"Deep breaths."
Stepping out of the car and looking at the coffee shop with trembling hands and a light-headed feeling. Nothing fit right that morning. Her hair did that flip that she hated. Her hands were shaking, so she couldn't get her make upright.
'What color lipstick would he love? Which perfume would linger after she left?' Nothing made her feel like she could ever live up to his expectations. But he was here. And after so long, it was finally time.
So much was wrong with their meeting. They were both married, and both had careers in which high moral fortitude was the standard. Everything about what they were about to do was risky. But it felt right. For so long, they had half-heartedly joked that they would one day meet. That they wouldn't be able to keep their hands off of each other. That they would spend days finally feeling each other. Finally fucking.
But today was the day. The day of truth. Was it too late to turn back? She looked through the window of the small, obscure coffee shop. A place where nobody she knew would happen by. Looking at the faces of each person inside, he wasn't hard to spot. There was an air about him. Kind eyes and a look of anticipation on his face.
'It's cute,' she thought.
He even seemed a little nervous. She watched him for a moment as he sipped his coffee. Watching his strong, skilled hands as he fingered through a magazine. She wanted him to finger her. To feel his hands exploring her, finding all of her secrets, grasping hard at her skin.
Almost as if he had sensed her thoughts, their eyes met. His amber eyes had a soft gleam, and he stood, motioning her to come inside. She felt her heart thumping loudly in her chest. She smiled, waved, bit her lip, and walked inside.
The first contact was awkward, as it was bound to be. After a quick fumble of hands and bodies, they opted for a hug. He was tall and stood a full head over her. He leaned in and kissed her cheek, but she felt it everywhere else. A shiver, electric and warming, spreading through her body.
Her face, her neck, her breasts, all turned a slightly pinkish shade. She tried to hide her face. His laugh, not a mocking one, but one of endearment, made her feel at ease. So much that she might melt.
"Good morning, Treacle," he said with a broad grin. "I've ordered your favorite."
A wide grin spread across her face. He remembered that cinnamon hot cocoa was her choice, and even though it was an odd selection, he was happy to oblige.
She sat across from him, and they smiled awkwardly for a moment. The tension that had so often weaved itself into their conversations had carried through to their physical meeting. She sipped her cocoa that was the perfect temperature. The warmth flowing down her throat made her long for his warmth in her mouth.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, "I almost forgot!"
She smiled mischievously and pulled from her purse two candy canes. He laughed, that beautiful laugh, the one that had so many times before made her heart skip a beat. She handed him one and then unwrapped the other and slid it into her drink.
She had a habit of licking the hot cocoa off of the sticky shaft. A gesture that he did not mind, nor was the implication lost on him. He remembered a time when she had playfully licked and sucked a candy cane for his viewing pleasure and thought of the one he had kept on his desk for months to remember her by.
Red lipstick is what she had chosen. Watching her lips as the candy disappeared into her mouth made him twitch. So often had he pictured those lips around his dick. Feeling her taste his arousal and knowing she would have an immediate response between her legs that he would be able to feel and taste finally.
They lead a conversation of small talk for a while, getting used to one another's company. The desire for physical contact was palpable. It tasted like coffee and cinnamon and candy canes.
"Shall we go for a walk? Show me around your city," he suggested as they both finished their drinks.
She smiled and agreed. They stood and walked to the door. He held it open for her. She reached up to squeeze his shoulder as a gesture of thanks. But that wasn't enough. As her hand slipped away, he caught it with his and pressed it to his lips. They walked forward, hand in hand, like teenagers touching each other for the first time.