A Late Night Encounter...

I’ve been married for five years now, but last week, I couldn’t shake the memory of a late-night encounter that happened when I was still working at my old coffee shop. It was pouring rain and the bar was unusually empty. A customer walked in, tall with dark hair and piercing eyes, he sat by the window where he could watch the storm. We hit it off...or more like our bodies did. He told me his name but I can’t recall it now; all I remember is the way his hand slipped under my apron as we talked about the weather... He whispered something dirty in my ear that made my heart race, and before I knew it, he was kissing me with a passion I hadn’t felt for years. We moved to the back room behind the counter...it was dark but the soft hum of the espresso machine provided enough cover. My hands roamed under his shirt... His skin was warm against mine as we pressed our bodies together; he undid my jeans and slid inside me so easily, quickly building up a rhythm that left me breathless...I didn’t want it to end but reality kicked in and the bar closed soon after. We never saw each other again, yet I can still feel him inside me now...