A drop of sweat trickles along my temple as I admire Jacqueline’s raven black hair, so smooth and lustrous, that cascades past her slender neck. She notices my wandering gaze and smiles, pleased with herself.
Jacqueline lifts the brass medallion that hangs from my necklace and holds it against her palm. She traces with her thumb the engraved letters.
“Mon coeur,” Jacqueline reads as her eyes twinkle. “You are laying it thick, huh?”
Her lips part slowly in a mischievous smile that makes my neck tremble. I imagine myself gripping my coworker’s head and pushing my tongue into her mouth. As I stammer an answer, a breeze chills my face, upper chest and bare legs. On the lower level of the pub, a man is holding the front door open while he shakes the water off his umbrella, so the storm is blowing gusts into the pub, spraying the floorboards with rainwater. A nearby patron must have gestured for the newcomer to save them from the cold, because the guy nods apologetically and closes the front door behind him.
Jacqueline lowers my medallion so it rests on my skin again.
“I-I just intended to convey that nowadays my heart is full of French,” I say.
She chuckles. Her right hand caresses my cheek, and as she runs those fingers through my hair, she leans closer. Her lips brush the ridges of my right ear. Jacqueline whispers huskily in French, and her sensual tone along with her warm breath burble down my earhole to fill the hollow space inside my skull. None of the individual words penetrate through the dense cloud of longing that has engulfed me, but goosebumps rise along my arms, I shudder warmly, and my pussy quivers as if a thousand bugs were trying to escape from my nether regions.
My pulse races wildly. I swallow to quench the dryness in my throat.
“I have no clue what you’ve said, but it made me tingle in the right places.”
Jacqueline’s warm fingers stroke the skin of my left hand upwards, towards the top of my forearm, but midway through she turns my arm. She traces the veins slowly, as if checking the pulse. She has scooted so close that her face almost fills my vision. Her breath, that breaks against my lips, smells like fruit punch. Those cobalt blue pools are staring straight into my eyes, and although I can feel her boring into my pupils, it’s calming me down.
“When did you fall for me, Leire?” Jacqueline asks softly.
My cheeks burn.
“I think I was always attracted to you. When you were near, I felt all tingly, but I found that uncomfortable because I needed to suppress my attraction to you. Your eyes are mesmerizing when they sparkle like that, and you have such amazing breasts and hips and ass. However, when you found me crying in the bathroom and you held me in your arms, I knew it in my bones.”
“You knew what, baby?” Jacqueline asks as if she wished for me to state it clearly.
I sigh.
“As long as you were with me, I was home.”
Jacqueline’s eyelids twitch, her nostrils flare. Distant thunder crackles over Red Hot Chili Peppers’ ‘Scar Tissue’. One of the bartenders must love this band. My coworker entwines her fingers with mine, and the heat of her hand radiates against my palm. Our bare knees touch.
She looks over the banister towards the bar counter, as if reminiscing.
“When I first met you, my impressions were negative. You had a strange smell, you laughed weirdly, you stole glances at my breasts. You seemed intelligent, but your thoughts were so convoluted and disjointed that I could barely comprehend half of what you said. I could tell you were mentally unstable, so I wasn’t too eager to deal with you.”
Jacqueline considers me a foul-smelling freak, and my laugh is annoying. I avoid blinking in case my eyes moisten.
“I hope there’s some upside to all that, because you are destroying me here.”
A smile flickers on Jacqueline’s lips.
“You’re scary sometimes, and even now there’s still a bit of danger lurking about you. But over time I found myself wishing to spend more time with you and hoping to learn more about your life. I wanted us to hang out in our free time, but I had no clue how you would react to such overtures from a coworker.”
“I don’t know either how I would have reacted. Over the years, I’ve ended up regretting many of my reactions. For most of my life I’ve been scared of getting involved with anyone else, and thought of love as a disease that could be cured by a pill or a hysterectomy. Being intimate means taking a risk, and… m-my mind dislikes risks since I lost my twin brother to cancer last year. But maybe that’s a habit that can be changed.”
Jacqueline’s seductive pout widens into a full smile that displays the whole upper row of teeth, deepens her dimples, lifts and tightens her cheekbones, wrinkles the bridge of her nose, and narrows her eyes.
“Jacqueline, when you smile like that, I feel like smiling too,” I say as I catch my breath and hold my stomach to keep my guts from erupting and splattering onto the floorboards. “It’s devastating.”
“I’ll smile like that more often, then,” she answers with an amused expression, but her cheeks are pinkish. “You referred to me once as a sexy mommy. Do you recall that?”
I have barely recovered from Jacqueline’s dazzling grin. I said what, and when?
“I-I couldn’t possibly keep up with every word that bubbles up from my subconscious and ends up sliding down my tongue.”
“I thought so, that you had let it slip out. But those are the best, aren’t they? And the thought of becoming your sexy mommy… made me all warm inside.”
I’m woozy with longing. I wish I dared to lean in and suck on her tongue, to lose my mind in a makeout session that would tune out all rational thinking, along with this horrid world. Maybe she will allow it if I ask nicely enough. For now, sweat is oozing out of my pores and likely staining my dress and the wooden seat beneath my butt.
Jacqueline stares at me intensely. I’m sure she can read my brainwaves.
“What do you think we should do tonight?” she whispers.
My mind gets crowded with short clips of our naked bodies entwined as we roll around on a boundless bed. I struggle to speak, but Jacqueline insists.
“Do you want us to fuck tonight, Leire?”
Blood thrums in my ears.
“Yes. Very much so.”
“Then come closer,” Jacqueline orders me huskily.
My heart hammers against my ribcage, and the blood it pumps out feels thick and heavy. My skin is warm and wet from perspiration. Jacqueline’s cobalt blues grow as I lean in. I close my eyes as I press my lips against hers. Her warm breath enters my mouth, the beat of her heart pulses through her silky lips.
When I draw my head back, Jacqueline narrows her eyes, and her nostrils flare as she inhales deeply.
“What are you, a teenager?”
I force myself to hold her gaze, although I feel small as a mouse. I shrug helplessly.
“I might as well be one.”
Jacqueline wets her lips. Her eyes are alight with desire.
“Kiss me again, girl,” she says. “Now like you want it.”
Her voice, honey dripping off a spoon, soothes and hypnotizes me, although I can barely see or hear anymore with how my blood is thumping in my ears and how the insides of my skull burn. As I lean in slowly towards my beloved, Jacqueline cups the back of my head, pulls me in and slides her tongue into my mouth. Her warm saliva has a tangy, fruity flavor. She keeps her cobalt blue eyes ajar, gazing deep into mine, as her tongue swirls slowly around my eager organ, exploring it with delicate movements of its agile tip. Her deep breaths warm my upper lip while our noses brush against each other. We are locked together in a dark room without any source of light or sound except for our lips and tongues touching one another.
Jacqueline strokes my nape tracing the skin with her nails, digging in as if to mark me as her possession. While her breasts squish into mine, her erect nipples, solid like round pebbles, poke at the fabric of my dress. A dizzying heat is building between my thighs. I’m containing myself from grabbing and fondling Jacqueline’s tits, although it feels as if they are pulling my hands towards them.
When we break apart, a strand of saliva connects our lips together like an umbilical cord. The crimson lipstick of her lower lip is smeared. It reminds me of the blood spatter from when I gunned down a man and buried him in a shallow grave.
Jacqueline licks the drool that was dribbling down a corner of my mouth, then she turns my head and nibbles delicately at my throat, tickling my nerve endings. I feel delirious, dazed by pleasure, as she runs her hands along my sides. I repeat to myself that I shouldn’t moan in public.
While Jacqueline’s wet, velvety tongue licks my earlobe, which sends shivers down my spine, whatever part of my brain is acting as a sentinel forces me to regain the sense of our surroundings. The group of college-age people that occupied the nearby table have quieted down, and their stares are burning the back of my head.
Jacqueline whispers into my earhole.
“I’ve parked my Audi nearby. Let’s go.”
I nod weakly. I’ve become too stunned and horny to speak. When we get up from the stools, I try awkwardly to fix my hair and the neckline of my dress.
Jacqueline looks me over. She wets her thumb and wipes some smudge off my chin, then another off my neck. I swallow. My coworker was turning around, but I wet my own thumb and I clean her lipstick smear from around her mouth. She grins.
Jacqueline tosses me my thick corduroy jacket. We hold each other’s gaze as I put on my jacket and she buttons up her designer coat. I grab both our umbrellas, one in each hand. We descend the stairs to the main level of the pub, then we march to the entrance.
When Jacqueline pushes the door open, a cold breeze blows on me, splashing my face with raindrops. The row of streetlights of the nearby square are pouring ovals of silvery light on the pooled water, that seems to be sizzling under the downpour. Most of the windows of the white building that hides the view of the beach shine blurrily. The air smells of saltwater and damp pavement and mud.
“Shit, it’s raining even harder now,” I say weakly.
Jacqueline takes her umbrella from my hand, then opens it with a flourish. She holds her right arm around my waist as she covers us both with the canopy. We step out from under the balcony of the first floor.
She leans in to lick my ear, then she speaks softly into it.
“You know where it won’t rain? In my house, under my comforter. I will keep you warm, too. So let’s hurry to my car.”
Jacqueline half-drags me up the narrow street, past parked cars, as I struggle to keep up with her pace. A streak of lightning illuminates the night, and thunder rumbles. With every step, our shoes splash on the tiny current that flows down the pavement. I’m sinking in a reverie, numb from horniness and confusion. The wind whips up a gust that lifts my skirt and flings icy needles at my bare legs.
I spot Jacqueline’s fog grey Audi A4 Avant.
“Hold the umbrella, sweetie,” she orders me.
“Huh? Alright…”
After I take over the duty of protecting us from the downpour, from a pocket of her coat she pulls out the car’s key fob. When she presses the button, a row of lights bring out the raindrops that roll down over the headlights. Jacqueline opens the passenger side door for me to climb in first. I barely realize that I’m sinking in the seat and that I’ve closed my door when Jacqueline sits down and closes hers. She takes the wet umbrellas and places them on the floor behind her seat. The rain is hammering on the roof and windows.
When Jacqueline turns towards me, her gaze melts my bones and transforms me into a trembling wreck of a human being. She scoots closer, wraps her right arm around my shoulders tightly and pulls me in. Her hot tongue burrows into my mouth like a raven’s beak seeking worms beneath rotting bark. She runs her free hand over my exposed thigh. Both our breaths become ragged and heavy. I close my eyes and let her ravish me.
When Jacqueline withdraws her tongue, I attempt to follow it, but she rests her forehead on mine.
“I’m going to do such nasty stuff to you,” she utters hungrily.
I swallow Jacqueline’s saliva. My labored breathing suggests I’ve just run down the street.
“Yeah. Flay my skin, amputate my limbs, gouge my eyes out.”
Jacqueline kisses the tip of my nose, then she slides back behind the steering wheel. The dashboard has lighted up with blue and yellow lines and curves, and the touch screen has switched on. As she revs up the engine, she closes her left hand around the wheel and shoots me a caring glance.
“Baby, I’ll only procure you pain of the sexual nature. Hopefully in time you won’t want any other kind.”
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