When Shadows Speak

The suspense was killing her. She had to see what this guy looked like. Before making her move, she prepared her face by putting on the sultry, come hither look, she was most famous for, then turned around slowly. When she saw the mystery man with the "mellow like Jell-O" voice, she almost jumped out of her silk panties. Standing before her was a gift straight from Heaven. This man was finer than wine with a hellafide body to boot; a light-skinned Adonis, smelling of Langerfeld cologne and fresh fragrant soap.

"Yes," she said, stuttering. "I’m not with anyone." Her heart pounded beneath her chest, like a basketball being bounced down half court.

"You mind if I sit down?" he asked, smiling and looking as suave and savoir-faire as Billy Dee Williams did in "Lady Sings the Blues."

"Sure," she said, gesturing to the stool across from her. He walked around, then sat, not removing his eyes from her lovely face. His demeanor was smooth and his body flowed like warm butter.

"My name’s Garrett," he said finally. "Garrett Hughes...and yours?"

Feeling as though she were about to burst at the seams, she spoke softly, staying in control.

"Mine’s Mia...Mia James."

"Nice to meet you, Mia."

"Same here."

"Do you come here often?" he asked, gazing at her as if she were a fine jewel.

"This is my first time," she answered, trying to restrain her impure thoughts. She wanted to touch every part of his fine, luscious body, then lick every inch of it afterwards, leaving a few hickeys here and there.