Encounter
The band was playing far too loudly in one cramped corner of the crowded bar. Molly Malone, or it was once, before the audience had sent a dozen shots of Jameson on stage in appreciation. I was getting up to leave and had already put one arm through the sleeve of my coat when I saw you come into the room. I stopped dead still and watched as you floated an inch off the floor, finding the only empty stool at the bar. You sat and demurely crossed your legs. I finished putting my coat on and walked out into the murky night.
I was halfway down the block and about to get into a cab when it hit me. If I did not meet you tonight, I would never get another chance. I waved off the taxi and returned to the bar.
I was not surprised to see you surrounded by men, all offering to buy you drinks, all clawing at you for a moment's attention. Dejected, I dropped into a chair at a table near the door and ordered a Guinness.
A few minutes later, I saw, no, I sensed you walking right past my table. As you passed a slip of paper fell from your bag onto the floor. You did not notice, and slid right out the door.
I was up in a flash, scooping the paper with one hand and my coat with the other. Onto the street, looking left and right, and I spotted you walking away. I called after you, and you stopped. I apologized for chasing you and offered the paper. You took it and laughed, reaching out to touch my arm. I smiled.
“Did you enjoy the bar?” I asked, desperate for conversation.
“No, it was too noisy and crowded” you replied.
“We could go in here, it is quiet” I pointed to the door of The Snug, a tiny Irish bar behind a big green door.
You just smiled and followed me in. We took a booth in the corner, facing each other discretely.
We sat and talked and laughed for an hour. I dared press my knee against yours, feeling your warmth through my trouser leg. You did not resist, pressing back.
You excused yourself to go to the Lady's Room, telling me to order two more Guinness. When you returned, a sly smile on your face, you slid into the booth beside me pushing me deeper into the corner.
You put your hand into your bag, and with a small flourish, pulled your panties out and dropped them in my lap. You then turned your attention to your drink.
I reached into my lap and took the delicate lace garment in my hand. I wanted to raise it to my face, so smell your scent, but I dare not. I slipped it into my pocket and then tasted my fingertips. You smiled, but did not turn to look at me.
I reached under the table and rested my hand on your thigh. My fingers danced on the soft, supple skin, and I slid them up under your skirt. I could feel the heat increasing as my hand went further up your leg. You continued to look straight ahead, but you slowly opened two top bottoms on your blouse, exposing the ivory white skin of your breast to me.
You gasped as my fingers encountered your pubis, warm, wet, yielding. I teased, tickling, probing. You moved your legs apart a little, allowing me to cup you in my full hand.. I parted your lips, running one finger slowly up to your clitoris. You took a sharp intake of breath, and I watched your breasts heave. The delicate brassiere you wore shifted to reveal your dark nipple. I craved that nipple in my mouth.
I leaned towards you, putting my lips to your ear. My hot breath tickles you.
I feel your hard throbbing clitoris under my thumb. My tongue traces the edge of your ear. You keep staring straight ahead, cautiously sipping at your beer, not betraying to any observers your secret. I slip one finger inside you, your heat drawing me in. You shift your hips forward and I slip a second finger in.
Now I have you in my command, and I whisper in your ear.
“I want to watch you come.”
You nod stiffly and push your hips towards my hand.
I slowly caress you, my thumb pressing on your clitoris, fingers spreading your lips, thrusting into your deep dark recess. You stiffen and yield, guiding my actions, building in intensity.
Suddenly I feel you contracting onto my hand. Wave after wave of convulsions shake your hips as you struggle to remain composed above the table. I urge you on, whispering in your ear.
“Come for me, let me feel you”
Finally, you are spent and relax. You let out a sigh and rest your head in your hands on the table. I slowly withdraw my hand, and while you are watching, I take one finger into my mouth to taste you.
I smile and you manage a weak smile back.
We both sit in silence for a few moments, recovering. Then, with no warning, you sat up, buttoned your blouse and slipped out of the booth.
“I must run, thank you for a delightful evening” you said as you pulled your coat over your shoulders.
I called after you “Will I see you again”?
You did not even turn back to answer, but as you went through that stout green door I saw a slip of paper fall from your bag.
Smiling, I sat back and ordered another Guinness.
I was halfway down the block and about to get into a cab when it hit me. If I did not meet you tonight, I would never get another chance. I waved off the taxi and returned to the bar.
I was not surprised to see you surrounded by men, all offering to buy you drinks, all clawing at you for a moment's attention. Dejected, I dropped into a chair at a table near the door and ordered a Guinness.
A few minutes later, I saw, no, I sensed you walking right past my table. As you passed a slip of paper fell from your bag onto the floor. You did not notice, and slid right out the door.
I was up in a flash, scooping the paper with one hand and my coat with the other. Onto the street, looking left and right, and I spotted you walking away. I called after you, and you stopped. I apologized for chasing you and offered the paper. You took it and laughed, reaching out to touch my arm. I smiled.
“Did you enjoy the bar?” I asked, desperate for conversation.
“No, it was too noisy and crowded” you replied.
“We could go in here, it is quiet” I pointed to the door of The Snug, a tiny Irish bar behind a big green door.
You just smiled and followed me in. We took a booth in the corner, facing each other discretely.
We sat and talked and laughed for an hour. I dared press my knee against yours, feeling your warmth through my trouser leg. You did not resist, pressing back.
You excused yourself to go to the Lady's Room, telling me to order two more Guinness. When you returned, a sly smile on your face, you slid into the booth beside me pushing me deeper into the corner.
You put your hand into your bag, and with a small flourish, pulled your panties out and dropped them in my lap. You then turned your attention to your drink.
I reached into my lap and took the delicate lace garment in my hand. I wanted to raise it to my face, so smell your scent, but I dare not. I slipped it into my pocket and then tasted my fingertips. You smiled, but did not turn to look at me.
I reached under the table and rested my hand on your thigh. My fingers danced on the soft, supple skin, and I slid them up under your skirt. I could feel the heat increasing as my hand went further up your leg. You continued to look straight ahead, but you slowly opened two top bottoms on your blouse, exposing the ivory white skin of your breast to me.
You gasped as my fingers encountered your pubis, warm, wet, yielding. I teased, tickling, probing. You moved your legs apart a little, allowing me to cup you in my full hand.. I parted your lips, running one finger slowly up to your clitoris. You took a sharp intake of breath, and I watched your breasts heave. The delicate brassiere you wore shifted to reveal your dark nipple. I craved that nipple in my mouth.
I leaned towards you, putting my lips to your ear. My hot breath tickles you.
I feel your hard throbbing clitoris under my thumb. My tongue traces the edge of your ear. You keep staring straight ahead, cautiously sipping at your beer, not betraying to any observers your secret. I slip one finger inside you, your heat drawing me in. You shift your hips forward and I slip a second finger in.
Now I have you in my command, and I whisper in your ear.
“I want to watch you come.”
You nod stiffly and push your hips towards my hand.
I slowly caress you, my thumb pressing on your clitoris, fingers spreading your lips, thrusting into your deep dark recess. You stiffen and yield, guiding my actions, building in intensity.
Suddenly I feel you contracting onto my hand. Wave after wave of convulsions shake your hips as you struggle to remain composed above the table. I urge you on, whispering in your ear.
“Come for me, let me feel you”
Finally, you are spent and relax. You let out a sigh and rest your head in your hands on the table. I slowly withdraw my hand, and while you are watching, I take one finger into my mouth to taste you.
I smile and you manage a weak smile back.
We both sit in silence for a few moments, recovering. Then, with no warning, you sat up, buttoned your blouse and slipped out of the booth.
“I must run, thank you for a delightful evening” you said as you pulled your coat over your shoulders.
I called after you “Will I see you again”?
You did not even turn back to answer, but as you went through that stout green door I saw a slip of paper fall from your bag.
Smiling, I sat back and ordered another Guinness.
