Something a Little Different

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College

Sitting in the coffee shop….the same one that I sit in five mornings a week, drinking my coffee, feeling the day dawn in front of me. Pondering just what today might hold in store for me. I hold the letter in front of me…rereading it…want to get it right.

I have been reading a new letter each Monday for the last 6 months. Most of them are along the same theme. Meet new people…one each week…learn to live again. I belong to a unique group. It is for shy folks like me…too shy to even attend a group meeting.

Each week on Monday an inspirational letter arrives, sometimes with instructions for the next day, sometimes just a note with some feel good motivational message. Most times, I read the letters but freeze before I can act on them. Yesterdays letter was different. More detailed, more direct, no veiled innuendos, no feel good message…just a get out and do set of instructions.

So,here I am…the same as usual but so different. I dressed as the letter told me to, am sitting in my usual seat and watching the people as they come and go,carefully scanning the crowd…looking for the person that is described in the letter. Shrinking into my chair, my breath catches.

There he is, at pendik escort the counter…he is ordering a coffee with milk and a croissant. He is in his mid fifties, has a suit jacket on…striped tie and a briefcase held casually in his left hand. The fingers that grip the handle are ring-less.

Silently praying that he leaves, because the letter states that he must sit facing me…I watch his every step. Averting my eyes as he turns towards me, I fiddle with the top button of my blouse…will I be brave enough to follow the letter’s directions this time?

Issuing a hard sigh from between my lips, I can only stare in amazement as he sits opposite me at the next table…in full view. The sounds of the café are silent to my ears, as my fingers undo the top three buttons on my blouse, smiling as I see him look at me…his eyebrows raised.

My face flushes a scarlet colour as I pull the hem of my skirt up over my thigh, parting my legs…letting my pussy show…just the edges, my lips tightly clenched…hiding the treasures inside from view.

He cocks his head to one side and grins mischievously, winking at me as I lick my lips, wetting them, gone dry from sucking air across my clenched teeth. maltepe escort I gasp in alarm as he rises from his seat, lazily hooks his briefcase with his left hand again, holds his coffee cup and croissant in his other and sits down at my table. He doesn’t say a word.

He just sits there smiling at me…his coffee growing cold…the croissant untouched as I forge boldly ahead and let my blouse gape open. The rounded edges of my breasts clearly visible, and my nipples growing as he continues to stare at me. My hard nipples strain against the thin fabric of my blouse, no bra…they are being teased into a state of raw nerves with every movement of my shirt.

My pussy lips are moving on their own…the heavy load of lubricating juices that are pooled behind them demanding to be released…I suck in a sharp breath as I feel them part, the moisture seeping along, dampening my thighs.

He shuffles his chair in tight to the table and reaches across to caress the exposed flesh of my heaving left globe, trailing his fingers lower to lightly brush my taut nipple. My back arches, head lolling back, as my eyes close, I am lost to the intensity of the moment. His foot unshod, probes my pooling kartal escort liquid, toes slipping easily between my pussy lips, finding my button, the button that controls me.

And then right there in the middle of the coffee shop….I am cummmmmmmming and cumming hard. I close my eyes tightly, his fingers biting into my tender nipple, his toes wriggling my clit into a swollen spasming knot of pleasure. Silent screams rip the air…unheard by anyone save me…they resonate in my head…filling my mind with an orchestra of sounds.

His toes delivering such amazing feelings to my clit…it continues to dance sending shower after shower of electrical emissions through me…my tortured nipple a mass of quivering flesh as the orgasm rips into me….through me….carrying me along atop the crest of its wave….finally ebbing and waning as I open my eyes, gasping as I look at him.

His toes finally still, I wince as he pulls them away. His eyes locked with mine, he bends to fix his foot. Leaving the coffee and croissant untouched, he glances at his watch, rises , collects his briefcase and walks away, turning at the doorway to wink in my direction. A sly smile passes fleetingly along his full curved lips and he is gone.

Clutching the letter to my breast, my lips parted slightly, curved into a goofy grin. I gather my belongings, stand on wobbly legs, pull down my skirt and walk the short distance to my home. Looking forward to next Mondays letter.

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Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

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