Another Hot Day in the Valley
She was straight off an auto mechanic's calendar--blond hair, cutoff jeans, a halter top and lipstick. And if this morning I had known that she was going to sit down next to me, I would have changed out of last night's clothes and had a shower and shave.
"Are you waiting for the bus?" I asked. "Or just trying to find some shade?"
She thought about not responding, you could tell by the way she squinched her nose and rolled her eyes, but finally decided to speak, on the off chance I was just being polite.
(I wasn't just being polite.)
"The bus." She replied with a sigh. "And you?"
"And me what?" My heart was racing. She'd answered my question and followed up with one of her own... I wondered if it was too soon to try kissing her.
"Are you waiting for the bus?"
(I was now.)
"I am now."
The next few minutes passed in silence. She pretended to check messages on her cell phone while I thought about licking her neck.
Across the street stood one of those big, digital bank clocks--the kind that alternates between the temperature and the time. According to it, it was just after noon, and a hundred and four in the sun.
I tried to time my finger to point just as it switched. But she didn't notice and so I had to leave my arm out until the time turned to the temperature again.
"Sometimes bank clocks get the temperature wrong." I leaned toward her a bit as I spoke.
She glanced up at the bank clock. "You don't think it's really a hundred and four?"
I dropped my voice to a husky whisper. "It should have ticked up to at least a hundred and nine the second you sat down."
"I see." She replied and edged away as far on the bench as she could go.
I burned for her. I decided she should know.
"I burn for you." I said, reaching over and touching her arm.
"That's nice." She said and made it clear with a Taser that she didn't like me touching her arm.
We didn't speak much after that, we had sort of run out of things to say. I'm not quite sure when the bus picked her up--I was too busy writhing and wetting myself.
(She was straight off an auto mechanic's calendar--blond hair, cutoff jeans, a halter top and lipstick. And if this morning I had known that she was going to sit down next to me, I would have tried to have been someone else, someone other than me.)
posted by Latigo Flint @ 1:32 AM
7 comments
7 Comments:
I like this. It's a little different, but very good.
(yeah, no smartass comment this time, weird huh?)
Wanton Hussy, leading you on like that. Still, I've got a pretty good discription of her thanks to you. Her kneck won't seem so lickable when she's swinging from a tree.
I hear that a Taser is better than being shot in the face with skunk aroma. What do you think?
Next time, Taser her and place her in a burlap bag.
This is how I won my wife's affection.
Her reaction kinda surprises me. All you threw her were a couple of somewhat cheesy pickup lines and a single sweet statement of passion. It seems a little early to go to the Taser. (I mean, there's the whole last-night's clothes thing to consider, but I thought that was trendy in the Valley.)
Given your past experiences with barristas, you should at least have had the opportunity to offer to be mauled heroically for her benefit before she fried you.
Then again, with a halter top and cutoff jeans, where'd she have the room to hide a Taser? Woman with a draw that quick shoulda had it in a holster.
That last line really plucked a heartstring, like only either a country-western drinking song or an emo wail can do. Mind the cougars!!
Thanks Cindy-Lou. It felt a little different coming out, I'm not sure where it came from.
(Yeah, kinda weird... does this mean you want me?)
Hang 'em high Helga Von Porno, hang 'em high every one. Just beware the wanton hussies wearing woolen scarves in the sun... those scarves could cover hang noose scars, and on you they may wish vengeance done.
You writhe and wet yourself either way Old Hoss. Perhaps not that you'd notice these days, but I'd avoid both nonetheless.
She was the one with a Taser LBB. All I had were yesterday's clothes and a persistent erection. How much do you want for your wife?
It was an odd day Slarrow, an odd day all around. Where the hell was my relatively trusty sidekick while all that was going on, that's what I'd like to know.
Oh the cougars are coming for me Ari, with claws and teeth ready to eat a face off. This I already know. And I deserve it this time.
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