|Blogs > rm_boomzoomer2 > Boomzoomer's Lip Service|
I had been waiting for you for about four minutes. I guess it was reasonable, since I arrived a bit earlier than I said I would. I enjoyed watching people passing by your building, and every once in a while, I imagined it was you who I saw emerging from the green iron gate into the pool area, where I was sitting. It was kind of exciting to think you were some extraordinary hottie. I was hoping to be that lucky. Our phone calls revealed a sparkling personality and the quick wit I always find to be attractive, which is why I felt it would be worth the time to meet you, even with the possibility of missing the physical attraction necessary for me to want you for more.
One woman had stopped right in front of me. Clearly she enjoyed my investigative eyes running over her bra-less, sweater-clad, thin body. But she paid full attention to her text messaging activity, and seemed to be waiting for me to comment at some point, but I simply enjoyed the view. Then, remembering you talked about getting a new phone, I asked "Is that your new phone?" thinking it might be you. "No," she said, and jiggled past me closely, obviously excited to be noticed, and apparently, was expecting to be smelled as well. Briefly, the fantasy sequences passed out of my mind, and I was on to watching folks at the pool once again.
I had sat myself on the ledge of a planter near the pool exit, just behind a column and tree, but clearly visible to whomever would be looking for a waiting body. Moments later, a woman approached with a knit shawl that was slipping off her shoulders and back and now was nearly falling to the ground just draped between her elbows behind her. I found this extremely sexy. As she passed, she was clutching her phone in front of her, which I took as a clue, and targeted my stare at her. Very nice. About 5 foot 7, very thin, with a perfectly proportioned waist and ass. Not skinny, but sultry and sexy, walking quickly past in her three inch cork shoes. Her skirt hiked several inches above her knees, I saw the pale skin of her long legs in the moonlit and streetlight-lit cul-de-sac in front of the complex. She slipped right past me without noticing, and exited the pool area to the front of the building. I hoped this was you, so I pulled my cellphone from my pocket and punched the redial, and watched you and your long legs stop abruptly in front of me without turning around, and I slowly approached you from behind. When you didn't answer, and I finally hung up, you began marching toward the corner at which you thought I would be waiting. I called out, "Hey, is that you?" and you turned around.
I did the typical friendly, blind-date, shouldergrab with a kiss, near (but not on) the cheek, in a warm greeting. Immediately, though, you pulled my shoulders towards you and pressed ourselves into a secure hug. Pleasantly surprised at the hug, and at your sexy appearance, I smiled back at you. Later, in the restaurant on the corner, you held onto my arm firmly while we waited to be seated. I appreciated the non-verbal language you were using with me to show how much you enjoyed the physical contact. However, I could not have ever imagined to what extent your enjoyment would ever have been expressed later that night.
The shitty service was annoying. But the company was wonderful, and at least we had drinks in our hands. Our conversation was kept rather light, and humorous. We laughed, which always tells me how comfortable we are together. Presently, you reached into your purse, pulling out your lighter and Parlaiments. "Do you mind? ... I will quit tomorrow, I promise," you claimed, looking up at me.
I said "Oh, really?" "Yes, why?" you replied, to which I answered, "Well, then kiss me now." "What?" You stared into my eyes. "I said, 'Kiss me now,'" I repeated, smiling coyly. Then I barely heard you say "Okay," from under the noise of the people crowded around our table where we were seated, but I could read your lips. I leaned forward, my knees pushed back my chair as I reached across the sturdy table to you, grabbing your wrists. You complied, and our lips pressed together sweetly, then harder as we began to feel the hot sensations of the kiss. Time passed. I don't know how long we held that kiss. But when I pulled back, you said to me, "Once more." This time, I heard no noise, heard nothing from the restaurant crowd, heard no loud discussions or abrupt laughter of neighboring tables, heard nothing of the typical din of a restaurant. I heard nothing at all.
We looked around, found the door through the busy waiters and partygoers, and forgot to pay our bill. -BZ
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