The Boo Store

I walked into the Spine bookstore resolutely. No sulking at home with a glass of wine, asleep by 11:00pm on a Friday night. I was thirty, not seventy five. Going to a bar sounded exhausting and there was a possibility I'd zero in on someone that reminded me of Joey and spiral into a bottomless cavern of self-pity and tequila. Sort of like last weekend. Sitting down with some inspirational poetry or an engaging memoir seemed productive and not likely to drive me deeper into a black hole.

It had been a long day, a hurricane of inconsiderate co-workers, deprecating texts from Mom, and break-up reminders. On top of all that, I had submitted five pitches in the past month and heard back from zero editors. Life wasn't altogether horrible but it wasn't the best.

Four months had passed since I moved out from my shared apartment with Joey. I could no longer stand his callous approach to everything - how little effort he put into our relationship, how embarrassed he was to hold my hand in public. It took me a while to convince myself I deserved better. The obligatory wreck at first, I slowly let him go.

These days, I'm alright, unless the wrong song wafts over from the radio or a guy with Joey's haircut crosses my path. The worst of it is the loneliness, the empty bed. My body craves touch and late at night, I lull myself to sleep with frenetic fingers, disappearing with my blanket tucked between my legs.

The store wasn't crowded and I looked around, mesmerized by the amount of books.

"Excuse me, could you direct me toward the poetry section?" I asked a short guy wearing a newsboy cap.

"Yes, that's upstairs, over by the right wall," he pointed.

"Thanks." As I walked away, I couldn't help but notice his eyes lower to my ass, confined firmly in a pair of stretch jeans. TGICF - Thank God It's Casual Friday. I ascended the stairs and found the poetry shelf. I ran my fingers over the books, their diverse textures and sizes massaging the tips of my fingers.

I pulled out a book of collected poetry by Edna St. Vincent Millay, something from my to-read list. Burrowed into a cozy corner, I planted the book in my lap.

And I read, vehemently. I scrutinized every word, relentlessly extracting meaning like juice from a lemon.

"What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why,

I have forgotten, and what arms have lain,

Under my head till morning; but the rain

Is full of ghosts tonight, that tap and sigh

Upon the glass and listen for reply..."

Engrossed by the words, everything faded away - the other customers, the jazz music emanating from the speakers. I lingered in my poetry bubble, finally content.

"You stole my book."

I looked up, dazed. A tall man was beaming down at me, his expression playful. I immediately noticed his facial hair - robust eyebrows complemented by a short but substantial beard. He was attractive - rough yet polished, with eyes like hot coffee. He smiled like he was hiding a secret bouquet of roses tucked behind his back. A jolt of anxious energy shot through my midsection.

"What?" I looked down. "You were looking for Edna St. Vincent Millay?"

"Oh! My bad. I thought you were reading about Easter Island. I'm planning a trip."

I stared at him with furrowed brows, not comprehending at first. Was he dense? Suddenly, it dawned on me - he was flirting. With me.

"Wow. OK. I mean, I can totally see how you'd get the two books confused." I tried to access my cache of coquettish witticisms but realized I had no such thing. I had not flirted in a long time.

He smirked.

"What's your name and why are you spending your Friday night reading?"

"I'm Mia. And why not? Reading is entirely underrated." I tilted my head coyly.

"Well, Mia, I agree wholeheartedly." I looked up at him, his glimmering eyes looking down, abruptly aware of our spatial relationship. He wore a grey, plaid button-down shirt that hung over his waistline loosely. I noticed his rugged jeans vaguely tracing the outline of his body and had to look away.

"I'm Reed," he added.

"Reed? And you are here to read? Cute." I winced inside - talking to guys was not my forte.

"Well, I hadn't thought of it that way," he laughed. "So far, all I've done is look at photographs. That's what I do - I am a photographer." Reed brushed his fingers through his dark, curly hair, the tendrils adhering to his forehead like leaves along a fence.

"Is that so? What do you photograph?"

"Everything. I'd love to tell you about it but we seem to be on different planes here. Either I sit or you stand." He smiled expectantly.

I hesitated, squinting at him, waiting for his next move.

Suddenly, he reached out his hand and I grabbed it, forgetting the book of poetry on the floor. I sprang toward him, stopping inches from his body. The store suddenly felt warm, stifling.

Reed smiled. "So, Mia, do you want to stay here and read or do you want to go across the street and get a drink and talk about reading?"

I paused for a second. He was a complete stranger. Still, he was handsome and seemed nice - it's not like I'd be going home with him or anything. Besides, I really needed to unwind and forget about my asshole ex.

"I suppose a drink can't hurt." I felt my stomach tighten in anticipation.

"Great. We can go to Bells and Whistles across the street." Reed grinned and turned to walk down the stairs. I followed him, the poetry book lying on the floor, a forgotten relic.

He held the front door and I strutted out into the balmy night. I imagined his eyes on my body, tracing the curves of my hips. I felt a surge of excitement - his presumed attraction for me was a huge turn-on. We left the store and walked across the street.

"You are a terrible influence. I came out to read and ended up at a bar," I joked, glancing at him sideways.

"Hey, I didn't force your hand, you came here of your own accord. It's not too late to turn back," Reed smirked like he was apt to do.

We entered the dimly lit bar and proceeded to a small booth in the back. I slid in first and he surprised me by sitting next to me. I swallowed, hard.

"You don't mind, do you?" His assertiveness both intimidated and aroused. I felt my lower body growing weak.

"You're supposed to ask permission before you do something," I retorted, pursing my lips.

Reed laughed and pinched my arm. My eyes drifted to the unbuttoned top of his shirt, thick hair peering out like a patch of rogue grass. I looked away, quickly, my breath caught.

A cute, blonde waitress in a green dress took our order. I watched Reed's reaction to her but she didn't seem to register on his radar, he was too fixated on me.

"So, aside from poetry, what do you like to read?"

"Let's see. Mainly engaging fiction although I do read a lot of autobiographies. How about you?" I wondered if he was genuinely interested or was just making small talk.

"Recommend something. I usually read travel memoirs but I am open to everything." He ran his fingers through his hair, shiny curls falling across his forehead.

"Well, I recently finished Just Kids by Patti Smith and loved it."

"I've actually read it. I love books about New York City." I wanted to tell him how sexy I thought that was but composed myself.

"Really? Did you like it? I may have cried a little at the end. Don't make fun." I tugged at my earring nervously.

"No crying for me but I did enjoy it."

The waitress returned, depositing our respective glasses of Macallan and Maker's Mark on the table.

I attacked my scotch, hoping the alcohol would diffuse the sexually charged anxiety I felt. I wondered if he felt it too.

"So, you said you are a photographer? What do you photograph?" His leg brushed mine casually, sending a tingling energy down to my toes. I fidgeted slightly.

"A lot of travel and nature photography, I'm obsessed with exploring new places. There's nothing more exciting than uncharted territory, you know?" Reed looked at me, his eyes burning.

I nodded, suddenly feeling shy. His expression displayed his intentions and I felt my panties growing wet. He wants to fuck me. Tonight. I emptied my glass nervously and asked him to let me out to use the restroom.

The stalls were empty. I pulled my panties halfway down and stopped. My fingers drifted between my moist lips, pleasure radiating throughout my body. I gasped. I haven't been this turned on by someone in a long time. I had to pull it together. I couldn't go home with this guy tonight, right? I mean, we just met. Maybe I needed to chill out and just let things happen. I fixed my clothing and hair, and walked toward our table.

Reed looked up at me, his lips spreading into an eager smile. "Do you want to stay here or keep moving and find a different bar?"

"Doesn't matter. Although exploring the uncharted territory of another bar sounds exciting," I said, my breath rapidly accelerating.

"I was hoping you'd say that. Let me just pay the tab." Enthusiastic, he jumped up and walked over to the bartender. I lingered by the door, feeling the warmth of the scotch permeate my senses. It felt good to relax - I needed a break from the stress of overanalyzing everything.

Reed joined me and we walked back outside, the air thick with humidity. We turned down a dark street devoid of businesses.

"There are several great bars on the next block. It looks like it's going to pour soon so hopefully we get there in time," he said.

"I hope so. I don't have an umbrella," I informed him.

He suddenly stopped walking. "I'll be your umbrella," he said gently and nudged me toward a concrete wall. I didn't realize how much taller he was but he hovered over me, consuming me with his eyes.

I didn't resist his advances. I was relieved he was assertive since I was usually so shy.

Reed ran his fingers gently across my lips, rough fingertips sliding along my Burt's Bees lip gloss. I stared at him, craving his mouth.

Just as I was about to lean into him, he kissed me, gently at first, increasing in pressure.

His kiss felt hot, full of unspoken words. He pressed me against the wall, placing my arms at my side and holding my wrists delicately. It wasn't aggressive, just reassuring, as if he was letting me know he would take care of me. With my back against the concrete, I felt my knees weakening. I shifted toward him, craving hard evidence of his arousal.

Reed pulled back suddenly, analyzing me with an intoxicating hunger. "You are so incredibly sexy," he drawled, his fingers tracing the inside of my thigh. I drew in, the breath lingering in my throat, my lips parting in anticipation. He drew closer, and as the tip of his finger drifted across the middle seam of my jeans, I couldn't control myself - I moaned desperately, my head tilting back into the wall.

He bit his lip, his eyes like two spinning planets, explicit in their desire.

With hardly a warning, the sky opened up. Several haphazard drops quickly turned into a downpour.

"Come on, this way, we can get a cab on the next block," Reed said and grabbed my hand. We ran down the sidewalk, the streetlights illuminating hundreds, thousands of water droplets bouncing all around us. My blouse was completely soaked, the green silk clinging to my body. I smiled as I ran, invigorated by the unexpected adventure.

We arrived at the main thoroughfare and he stuck out his arm, desperately waving at passing taxis. His hair was saturated, the curls plastered around hair face. I looked at him, his face bathed in the light, trying hard to rescue me from the tumultuous weather. At that moment, he looked stunning. Without thought, I grabbed his arm and pulled him into me, my rain-slicked lips desperately landing on his. Reed complied, placing his hands firmly around my waist and drawing me into him, a lost girl, found again.

Our tongues intertwined as the water wept down our faces. The rain, incessant, battered our shoulders. My entire body keenly aware of his, I fought against instinct to pull away, breathlessly.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't stop myself," I stammered. "Let's get that cab."

"I was a willing participant too, you know." He laughed, wiping the water from his brow.

We snagged a car right away.

Reed opened the yellow door for me and I hopped in, relieved.

"294 West 8th Street, please," he told the driver. I smoothed my hair nervously.

"Are you OK with coming back to my apartment? I can give you clothes to change into." He looked at me wearing a concerned expression. I wanted to smile - he was worried I might say no.

"Yeah, I'd like that." I moved closer to him and slipped my hand inside his.

Reed looked at me with a mixture of desire and reverence as I placed my head on his shoulder.

We pulled up to his building and he paid the driver. The rain had slowed marginally and we ran inside. The elevator ride was fraught with tension - I was astounded by the unexpected turn of events. My night started with poetry and was going to end with...sex? I had never had a one-night stand before. I suddenly felt very self-conscious.

Reed opened the door to his apartment and cautiously, I walked into the darkness. He flicked a light switch behind me, and we locked eyes, my chest pulsating with energy.

A large calico cat appeared, meowing emphatically.

"Hey Meatloaf, meet Mia," he said in the direction of the cat. "Want a glass of wine?"

I nodded, bending down to pet the purring Meatloaf as Reed disappeared into another room.

Seconds later, he handed me a glass.

"Good to see we have our priorities straight," he laughed. "I'm going to change - do you want to shower? I can give you a T-shirt and some shorts to wear."

"I'd love a shower! Wet clothes are the worst." I ran my hands down the sides of my drenched jeans to demonstrate.

I followed him into a short hallway as he led me toward the bathroom.

"Thanks," I said coyly, wishing I was forward enough to ask him to join.

"Wait," Reed said and pulled me in for a quick kiss.

I blushed and shut the door, leaving it unlocked. Quickly, I shed my clothes, immensely relieved to remove the cold, wet fabric. I glanced at the mirror and ran my fingers over my breasts, nipples erect.

Turning the faucet, I stepped into the standing shower, noticing the available bench. The hot water exploded and the sharp currents ran down my face, my mouth open in blissful surrender. I welcomed the weight of the water pressure as it caressed my chest. With the assistance of a scratchy bar of soap, I lathered, my hands sliding over slick skin.

"Mia? Sorry, forgot to give you a towel." I heard Reed say from the doorway.

I froze, his voice sending a shock through my body. The water battered me as I slid the steamed door open a crack and peered out. He lingered at the door, clad in a pair of grey sweatpants and an Indiana Jones T-shirt.

"Thank you, um, here, you can just leave it, on the toilet, I guess." I was having trouble speaking, overwhelmed by his sudden appearance. Immediately conscious of every naked inch of my body, I felt my groin tighten.

"Wow...you look...sexy," his eyes grew dark but he kept his distance.

"You're kidding, right? I am a mess." I tugged at my wet hair as evidence.

He stepped inside the bathroom, encouraged by my inability to end the exchange.

"How's the water in there?" Reed asked slyly. His messy hair hung over his forehead, almost obscuring his fervent eyes.

I gulped as it hit me - he wants to come in. It seemed like he was waiting for an invitation. I was suddenly very aware of my pussy, wet and tingling. I wanted him to join me more than anything. C'mon Mia, what are you so afraid of? You're already naked in his shower. I took a deep breath.

"Well, why don't you see you for yourself?" Holy shit. I felt a jolt of electricity rocket through me.

"I thought you'd never ask." With an amused expression, Reed walked toward me and opened the door. With my naked body visible to him, massaged by the water, I felt exhilarated. I pulled back, nearly shaking, pressing against the wall. Without undressing, he stepped in, the stream quickly flattening his hair and blackening his clothing.

"You just can't seem to escape the rain, huh?" I laughed nervously.

"I've been too distracted to care," he took a step toward me, sending my body into overdrive.

Just inches from me, he bit his lip, staring at me, wet and cowering against the wall.

"Sit down," Reed instructed and I acquiesced, breathing hard. The seat felt smooth against my bare ass and I looked up at him, eagerly awaiting further instruction. He kneeled down to my level and ran his hands along the inside of my thighs, staring at my pussy. He licked his lips eagerly. "Perfect," he murmured and split my lips open with his tongue. I moaned gently, tremors of pleasure passing through me.

Reed stopped and looked up at me, his eyes shimmering playfully. His mouth curled into a smile as thin rivulets of water dripped down his face. He stood up and detached the shower head and came back to me, surprising me with a hard kiss. I felt his wet tongue thrusting into my mouth, my pussy burning with desire. It was unbearable and I felt the urge to push his head down, just to feel his hot, silky tongue on me again. Nudging my chin upward, Reed began to gently kiss my neck, dragging his wet lips across. Suddenly, I felt the rhythmic sensation of the water shifting down my stomach. I gasped as it reached its destination.

From the way I was sitting, I could look down and see as the stream gushed over my pussy, spreading my lips gently, shifting them side to side. He moved the shower head up and down, closer and further, his eyes lit up like a mad scientist. I felt the cascading pleasure rising, cultivating something inside of me, an urge that hasn't been fully expressed in many months.

"Oh my god, I'm going to cum," I moaned, bucking my hips forward.

Tossing the shower head down, Reed quickly replaced it with his mouth, drawing rhythmic circles around my swollen clit. Everything felt wet, inside, outside. I felt his beard graze my lips and shuddered. Leaning back, I grabbed the bench for support. The intensity was climbing, higher, concentrated in my groin. Everything tightened - there was no turning back now. It all went black as I closed my eyes, sparks piercing the darkness. I moaned, desperately, like a caged animal, as his tongue brought me over the threshold, shaking, a woman reborn.

Simultaneously weakened and simulated, I climbed down to the shower floor and tugged at his waistband, pressing my mouth against the wet fabric surrounding his erection. "Wait," Reed said, surprising me. He pulled off his wet T-shirt and placed it underneath my knees. That sweet, unanticipated act made me want to suck his cock that much more. I ran my fingers through his coarse chest hair, stroking his tight stomach just above his waistband. I rubbed my mouth up and down, against his bulge, bursting with anticipation of seeing his beautiful dick. He groaned softly as I pulled his pants down. His cock sprung free, trembling slightly. I looked up at him with an expression of violent desire, and ran my tongue around the sides of his head. Not breaking eye contact, I eagerly lapped at the underside of his shaft, licking it like it was the last ice cream cone I'd ever eat.

Looking up at him alluringly, I took him in my mouth, sucking slow and hard. The sound of running water isolated us from the outside world. I wrapped my fingers around his cock, lifting it gently to cup his balls with my tongue. Raising my eyes upward, I watched his mouth open slightly. I sucked on his head, using my hand to stroke his shaft quickly, suddenly taking all of him in my mouth. I gagged but didn't stop. "Oh god, baby," Reed groaned. I pulled him out of my mouth and looked at him. "I want you to cum all over my face." I wanted to taste him, bad, but the idea of his cum spraying all over won in the end. His eyes widened and I enveloped him again with my mouth. Picking up speed, I used circular hand strokes along with my slippery lips, moving to the rhythm of the falling water, my hands sliding around his cock, my mouth full of him. "Don't stop," Reed gasped. At the last second, he pulled himself out, exploding on my face. Eyes closed, I opened wide, tasting his rich, creamy fluid as it dripped down my cheeks.