At the corner of Valencia St. and 17th St., between the ice cream shop and the bookstore, a need to push a line, to experience more, seized me. A happy crowd of people shopping the windows filled the street, making their way here and there. And Amanda and I were moving with that crowd when a storefront called out, so I grabbed my best friend by the arm and pulled her into it. It was an adult store. In the corner the shop attendant, who must have been no older than twenty-five, laid down a box and glanced our way. Our eyes met. I froze. But Amanda smiled and politely nodded and soon the attendant responded in the same way. “Let me know if you need any help,” she said. She continued her task, and we ours. We had never been to a sex shop before, but before long curiosity with her well worn boots and sharp eyes knocked any discomfort aside.
Author: Radiant-Temperature6
Listening [Solo] [Fiction]
It was the perfect moment to open the windows: rain was beginning to din on the balcony, gently splashing all three of my plants. Soon, the rain flooded the streets with hundreds of small tin-tinn sounds, soaking and cooling the ground, the building, and my tiny balcony. The drain pipe echoed the sound of rushing water. You were having fun. Your window must have also been open because I heard the small lights around your window panes rattle against the wall, I heard music, and then I heard you. Moaning. Through the frenzy of guitars and rain, the sound of two bodies in love cut cleanly against the tintinnabulation of this monsoon shower. And I heard you exclaiming to the beat, “More, more…. I will have all of it….”
Abandoning my three plants, I hopped on to my bed and listened. I laid in bed imagining you in yours. A feeling of heat like the spice of cinnamon grew and spread across my body, down to the bottom of my feet. A shiver ran through me. It sharpened my awareness of the softness of my comforter, its cleanness, the press of clothes on my skin, their fit, and the sweet heat between my thighs.