Naughty Love Letters

Written by: Amorica Croce

I sit listening to a play list that logistically makes absolutely no sense to anyone but me: and I think of him. Of all the things I write and then rip up in a million pieces. I think of all the times I make voice recordings of what I can’t say…only to erase them seconds after I listen to how ridiculous I might sound to anyone with any kind of sense at all. It’s such a girl thing to do. Nonetheless I do it, we do it, women in general. We create these relationships that don’t exist. It has yet to be scientifically proven but women can actually envision the moment of a first kiss to dieing in the arms of the object of their affection in less than thirty seconds. It is either a significant sign of evolution or the saddest state of affairs known to man.

All this and more while I watch him pump his gas; in the same place he’d done it for the last ten years. It’s amazing how someone so great can be so predictable in the most trivial of instances. His hair was amazing. Never out of place–not even a millimeter: thick, jet black, and curly. That jacket clung to him like nothing I’d ever seen before except for how I’d seen it on him. I could feel the saliva gathering to the rim of my lips, almost and ever so slightly, trickling from the corner of my mouth. David was his name. I’d watched him for so long I could literally be a living testament to the evolution of his sex appeal. He must have brushed up against me paying for gas twenty or thirty times over the last ten years-not that he’d noticed. Our polite exchanges of “I’m sorry” and “Excuse me” paled in comparison to what I’d dreamt about before and after those few seconds of bliss. I can’t even count the times I sat alone in the window of that run of the mill super standard coffee shop franchise reaping the benefits of free WIFI just to catch a glimpse of him. I even know how David takes his coffee: large, four creams, four sugars.

But guys like David don’t notice girls like me. They notice the tall blonde who walks into their salon with already salon perfect hair, nails, and body. Guys like David become hair stylists so they can be in constant contact with those kinds of women. Because, let’s face it folks there are two kinds of people in this world: the kinds that go to the “Salon” and the rest of us who go see a “Hairdresser”. People like me we never get our hair touched by people like David: it simply costs too much. Me, I watch David from a coffee shop window and fantasize about what it would be like have all eight inches of him deep inside me…then I go home and fuck myself: because that’s just what I can afford: economically, emotionally, and mentally.

And it’s always when you’re picturing someone naked that they decide to make eye contact while walking through the door. David smiled at me for a split second while making his way over to the counter. It was the kind of smile that could melt the panties right off you. I felt so flush, I knew I was turning red. I put the music louder to distract myself. Nothing like a little John Mayer “Say” in the head phones to take your mind off things…or NOT. I was in there at three o’clock in the morning itching for some inspiration. But what was David doing there? He’d perhaps just left his late night booty call’s place while she was fast asleep. I often came thinking about him with other women, rarely with me, but mostly with other women.

As I contemplated how sad and lonely my uneventful life was David sat across from me in the booth and took off his jacket. I was in a serious state of shock-not a mild but a very serious one. Peter (the cute and effeminate coffee house employee) brought David coffee, a breakfast bagel, and a bag full of what could only be donut bits. The music in my headphones was so loud and I was so stunned that I could see that their lips were moving but I had absolutely no idea what they were saying. Something David said made Peter laugh so hard he put his hand on my shoulder and shook his head. At absolutely no point did it occur to me to take off the headphones or say something. It did of course occur to David to sit with me when every other seat in that place was available. I, the very suave and nonchalant chick I was knew exactly what to do; and that was to fuck up what God had served me up on a silver platter: as per my usual self.

“Can I help you?”

That’s what I said to the Adonis half way through his breakfast bagel. He had just a little bit of butter on his facial scruff as he looked up at me unimpressed. He just kept looking at me much like an angry dog might if disturbed while eating: from the corner of his eye in between bites. Seeing as how this awkward situation could only get worse after my ten years of stalemate I figured I’d just go for the plunge. Before I could figure out something witty to say he reached over and pulled my headphone a bit.

“Do you mind if I sit here? I really hate to eat alone.” David put the headphone back on my ear and wiped his mouth with a napkin.

I pulled my headphones around my neck and shook my head quickly and began typing ten times faster. He had the sweetest voice. It made the baby hairs on my neck stand up and gave me goose bumps all over. I’m pretty sure David was well aware of the effect he had on women. Besides, if he didn’t know I doubt I could be the one to explain it to him. After all, my body was flush; my knees were weak, my thighs on fire, my pussy warm, and my heart ready to explode. I was in no condition to explain anything to anyone let alone the man I’d been fantasizing about making love to over and over again for the last ten years whilst he sat directly in front of me. It was very Twilight Zone meets awkward 80’s Teen movie moment. I couldn’t really breathe. I just needed to get out of there. I needed to get out of there right at that minute.

“Do you mind watching this for me. I just have to go to the bathroom.”

“Sure.” He looked up curiously and sipped at his coffee. “What you listening to?”

“What?” I answered unintelligently.

“What music you listening to?” He said it as if he was speaking to someone who’d just learned English.

“It’s a mix, uh, John Mayer, Peter Gabriel, U2…it’s a mix.” I said while taking my head phones off. I got up and bolted hollering “If you need to leave don’t worry Peter will watch my stuff.”

And in seconds flat I was in the bathroom. Washing cold water over my face I just couldn’t seem to shake off the hot and bothered feeling I had all over me. I put my hair up in a clip and wet the back of my neck with cold water-but it just didn’t work-nothing did. I looked at myself in the mirror. What was the matter with me? He was out there and I was hiding in here. Guys like that don’t sit with girls like me but that guy did sit with me and I ran as far away from him as I could. That hot and bothered feeling had planted itself deep in my puss. I looked at the bathroom stall. How long could it take me? After all, I’d narrowed it down to a calculated science. Before, I knew it I was in there with my hand down the front of my panties, two days after the Brazilian wax, best time to love yourself, so wet and warm. One leg up against the stall, breathing heavily, almost there, almost, not like anyone was going to walk in to the girl’s washroom…but, someone did.

“Hey…” Whispered David softly from the doorway.

“This is the girls bathroom,” I said with my hand still down the front of my panties lacking anything intelligent to say. It’s amazing how stupid we are when caught in the act, even if the other person doesn’t know they’ve caught us.

“Yeah, are you gonna be long?” I could hear the door close, only I could still hear him talk, that could only mean he was inside there with me. I was almost there but I couldn’t finish with him there. Sounds crazy, but I couldn’t masturbate thinking about the object of my desire while the object of my desire was in the room.

“I’m coming.” What the hell was I saying?!? “What are you doing in here?”

“What are you doing in here, it’s been like ten minutes, what’s taking so long?” I could hear him walking towards the stall. I quickly pulled my hand out of my panties wiped my cream filled fingers with some toilet paper and right before I opened the door I flushed the toilet, there was nothing to flush but I flushed it anyway, just to save face. I walked out and found him right in front of my stall. David smiling now just as he did when he walked through the door earlier.

“What were you doing in there?”

“Excuse me?” I said trying to get past him. He didn’t move.

“It smells like something but not exactly like what gets flushed down the toilet.” He said with his hand gently scratching the scruff on his chin-almost as if he was sizing me up for a fight.

“Do you mind!” I said sternly, not that it made a difference, he only smiled more and put his arms up over the top of the stall doorframe. It seemed he was blocking my escape.

“Not at all.” He answered. He had some nerve standing there like he owned the place.

“I have to get back to my work so if you don’t mind.” I stood there embarrassed beyond belief or reason.

“Yeah, right, “The Role Playing”, I know you like that stuff.” David started to touch the front of his pants, I could see he was all the girth I’d hoped him to be…but I realized quickly that something was off. When he took my hand and put it on all of his girth I had more than an inclination that something was off. “So, what do you want me to call you? It’s different when you actually meet-you know?” He whispered in my ear.

I found myself in quite the predicament. On one hand: David’s cock (so hard and ready to go); On the other hand I had a serious case of mistaken identity. I had just realized that David didn’t sit with me because he was sitting with me; but David was sitting with me because he thought I was someone he had been “talking” to anonymously. I didn’t have the heart to tell him but I had to tell him. WHY? Because despite the fact that I was obsessed with him, and even though I wanted nothing more than this moment to come to fruition: I couldn’t have it happen under false pretenses. So what did I do while my puss was on fire and my hand holding a little piece of heaven? I pulled my hand off of that engorged member and looked him straight in the eye and said. “I’m sorry but I think you’ve got me confused with someone else.” And at that moment David turned white and that devilish grin came clean right off his face. He took a step back and looked at me hard.

“So, you’re not the girl I been…?”

“I’m afraid not.” I said shaking my head.

“But you’ve got a laptop and everything. You don’t have to be shy-I understand if you don’t want to do this-it’s not like when you type it out.” He said with this serious look on his face.

“Are you on crack?” I answered while going to wash my hands.

“I’m just saying, I know it’s different for girls, I understand.” He was convinced I was this woman he’d been chatting up on the Internet who’d suddenly backed out of their late night rendezvous.

“Listen, you seem a little lost. And at (I looked at my watch) four o’clock in the morning almost, if you’re little late night chatter hasn’t shown I don’t think she’s gonna.” I answered snippy.

“Okay, so if it’s not you why were you playing with yourself in the girl’s bathroom?” He said without missing a beat.

“What?” I was so embarrassed, so embarrassed, and technically, I really hadn’t done anything really wrong. “That’s none of your fucking business. I don’t have to explain anything to you.” I said pointing with wet hands and that got water all over him.

“Okay, relax. You know something about me so now I know something about you. I just feel it’s fair you know?” David was really reaching here. For probably the first time ever I saw him with a genuine look of bewilderment in his eyes. “It’s just nothing like this ever happened to me before okay. I’m feeling a little fucked right now.”

I took some paper towels and dried my hands. “I don’t know anything about you.” I was blatantly lying, I mean, really lying, but I had to do it-it was the right thing to do at the time.

He looked at me with relief. “So, you’re not going to press charges?”

I started laughing hysterically. It was not what I expected at all in that moment. But, when you really think about it and after what just happened if I was David and it was almost four o’clock in the morning and I’d just put some strangers hand on my cock in the ladies restroom: I can see how avoiding a criminal record would be my top priority.

“It’s not funny.” He was so perplexed it was impossible not to laugh. I know it was mean but I couldn’t help myself.

“I’m sorry.” I said regaining my breath and composure. But, it was no use I couldn’t stop.

“What’s so fucking funny? I was supposed to meet somebody in here. What’s you’re excuse for whacking off in a public restroom on a Thursday night (looks at his watch), Friday morning?” He starts to laugh realizing the ridiculousness of this entire situation. I’d like to think my laugh is contagious, I know my laugh is contagious…but, there’s always a brief moment of doubt.

I laughed so hard my eyes were crying. I held my stomach that hurt in the sweetest way. And just like in the movies we locked eyes and slowly stopped laughing. Then came the awkward moment of silence as per movie moment handbook page number…you get the picture. And just like that, life kind of goes back to normal and redundant until the next great moment comes along.

“What’s your name?” David asked sincerely.

“Amorica.” I answered, waiting for the usual response.

“Is that your real name?” He asked looking in the mirror as he checked himself out.

“Yep.” I answered for the millionth time in my life.

“That’s cool. I’m David.” He said as he looked back at me. “I guess you won’t tell my friends I won’t tell yours?”

“I don’t know any of your friends.” It wasn’t very witty but it was the truth. For some reason my candor made him grin. I got the feeling David was the wiser. I’m sure guys like him usually are in any given situation-even the ones where they appear to have the most to lose. Guys like him don’t ever really lose.

“I feel like I should buy you food or something.” He wasn’t exactly the sharpest tool in the shed at times. I guess meeting the object of your wanton desire never really pans out to what you’d like it to be. Nonetheless, there was much more to David than I’d imagined, and I’d imagined almost everything.

“I really don’t think that’s necessary.” I answered.

“Yeah, technically we didn’t “do” anything right?”

“David, I’m not pressing charges.” He smiled and giggled like a 16-year-old boy might when a supply teacher catches him trying to flirt with her. He nodded and opened the bathroom door for me to leave. I walked out but stopped. One question needed answering-I had to know. “David, I just have one question.”

“What’s that?”

“Why, does a guy like you need to go online to meet girls for sex?” I realized right away that sounded so wrong. “I mean, I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay.”

“No, I’m really sorry.”

“No really it’s cool.” He closed the door and put his hand up against it and thought for a few seconds and then turned back to me and said “Same reason you take your laptop to the coffee shop.” I shook my head not understanding. “Because I can.”

It wasn’t the most prolific answer but it was the honest answer. I don’t know why it is when we get the answer to the question WHY we are almost always disappointed. Perhaps its because the WHY of things is never what we hoped it to be. Maybe these questions are just the bypass to something better than their answers. In my case it was.

“How come I never seen you here before?” He asked curiously.

“I don’t know.” That was another lie; truth is, before tonight he never looked at me.

“Probably sounds crazy but I kinda hope I run into you again-to talk you know?”

“Yeah, me too”

And just like that the stalemate was over. I didn’t really know what that series of awkward moments in a coffee shop restroom would eventually lead up to. But, I’ll leave the rest for another time. Just know that when I got home it took me an hour to rid myself of that hot and bothered feeling deep inside me. It wouldn’t be the last time but it really was one of the best times.

End of Part 1 Amorica Croce

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