It was the tattoo she noticed first. It was some kind of dragon that curled and twisted around his large bicep before disappearing beneath the sleeve of the tight white tee-shirt.
She watched as the tattoo twisted and writhed as he flexed his arm, whilst reaching for his coffee. The artwork was a thing of beauty, intricate elaborate dark lines that formed the outline, but the scales of the dragon were done in red and gold ink that caught the overhead light.
Whoever the artist was he was a master of his craft. The tattoo creature rippled and moved giving the impression that it was trying to break free of its skin confines. She glanced up and caught the man’s expression, his full lips twisting into a smile and she realized she had been caught staring. Immediately she turned away feeling the flush of heat through her cheeks, and, to her embarrassment, between her thighs. Flustered she stuttered her order to the barista behind the Starbucks counter, grateful that he hadn’t noticed her embarrassment. From the corner of her eye she watched as the tattooed man gave a final glance in her direction and moved away.
She turned then to get a proper look at him, to take him all in. He was tall, far taller than her, his head shaven, shirt stretched across broad shoulders. Unbidden, her eyes glanced down taking in the tight Jean’s and she felt another surge of heat as he moved towards an empty table. She had barely sat down at her own table, her latte positioned directly in front of her when she became aware of a shadow.
Startled, she glanced up to find the tattooed man staring down at her. She felt intimidated and overwhelmed by his presence! He indicated at the empty chair opposite with a wave of his hand; “do you mind if I join you?” It wasn’t so much a question as a statement, and although she wanted to decline, to send him away, she simply nodded her head. She realized he hadn’t waited for her response; he was already pulling the chair back, confidence oozing from him.
Picking up her latte, she sipped at it, grimacing as the hot liquid burnt her lips. He didn’t notice, he was already telling her about himself, he hadn’t even asked her name! Men, especially one as masculine as this, had never approached her, she was the quiet timid girl, a sensible shoes girl, a proverbial wallflower.
She remained silent, watching his expressive mouth, lost in her own fantasy, his words washing over her. “Tight white tee-shirt, tight blue jeans, tight firm muscles…..” ran through her mind like a mantra. She found herself mentally undressing him, wondering what it would feel like if he took her, used her! She had no doubt that he would be selfish and arrogant with desire only for his own personal pleasure, his own satisfaction! Despite this, she shifted uncomfortably at the pleasurable thought, licking at her sudden dry lips. Lost in the moment she became aware that he had stopped talking and was pushing his now empty cup towards her. “How about another?” Not trusting herself to speak she simply nodded. He watched her silently one eyebrow raised and she understood that he was expecting her to buy it. “Americano, three shots, black no sugar.” She pushed herself out of the chair and hurried to the counter. Glancing over her shoulder she could see he was busy on his cellular phone. Now was her chance, she could simply walk out the door and never look back, but she found herself placing the order instead.
She recalled that he had told her he had a penthouse, but the run down block of flats that the Uber pulled up in front of bore no relationship to anything up-market. It was so run down it would need an extensive overhaul to even be considered down-market. She was tempted to say something, climb back inside the Uber and leave, but she followed him meekly into the graffiti littered building. The elevator sporting a badly worded “Out of Order” sign hung crookedly across the door, and she followed him up the stairs. He took them two at a time, the movement stretching his already tight jeans, his thigh muscles flexing with each movement. Halfway up he stumbled but recovered, finally emerging on the fourth floor where he fumbled with set of keys from his pocket. He lent against the door frame, his eyes unfocussed, and with a confused look on his face. She gently took the keys from his unresisting fingers and opened the door before pushing him roughly inside. With a last glance along the empty piss stained corridor she followed him and locked the door behind her.
The drops she had put in his coffee had acted quicker than she had expected but as she slid the bolt across a smile made her lips curl. Well now she had all night and the list of things she planned to do was only limited by her imagination. She turned to face the tattooed man who now watched her with unfocussed eyes as she slowly began to remove all her clothes. Beneath the frumpy outfit, her breasts were full and firm, her stomach flat leading down to the shadowed area between her thighs. She could feel the wetness there, the sense of excitement and anticipation of what was to come
The man tried to grin as she stepped from the shadows, but even that simple act was now beyond him. The puzzled expression on his face was replaced by one of fear as she took two switchblades from her handbag flicking them open with a practiced hand as she moved towards him. He tried to back away but his legs buckled beneath him, collapsing him onto the unmade bed. She straddled his thighs, with both knives at his throat, moaning at the obvious bulge beneath his jeans. Men! No matter the situation, they just couldn’t help themselves! Typical!
She leant forward, the tips of her nipples brushing his chest.
“Do you mind if I join you?” She whispered into his ear.
Copyright Rayven Angel 2020. All rights reserved. No part of these publications may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission of the author.