He looked like a murderer of mass quantities. A man wearing a light blue cotton button down shirt stalked into the coffee house, where I sat enjoying my afternoon latte. His blond hair sat perfectly on his somewhat square shaped head, no hair stood out in defiance against the others. Small eyes scanned the restaurant several times before he headed to order a drink. I half expected him to pull a gun out of his back pocket and start unloading into the barista before turning to take a few of the patrons out as well. Instead, he ordered an espresso.
I kept my eyes glue to him as he walked out of the coffee shop and only exhaled once he was safely walking down the street. Considering the amount of shootings on the news lately, my fear seemed logical. Glad the threat was gone, I went back to my book and my latte.
The bell above the front door of the shop chimed. I looked up. The new customer resembled nothing of the mass killer. Wide blue eyes scanned the menu of drinks. Strong hands were stuffed into the front pockets of his form fitted jeans, accentuating his firm backside. The t-shirt he wore gripped his upper arms, hugging the hard, ripped biceps and rested loosely against his stomach. Noticing his arms and strength of his legs I imagined his stomach rippling with muscles. I bit my lower lip and willed myself not to rush over to him and run my hands through his casually tussled milk chocolate hair.
He ordered his drink. My phone buzzed. Another text from an old fling that refused to take the hint. I looked back to the register to find my eye candy, but he was gone.
“Hi.” It was him. I dropped my phone on the table and swallowed. His eyes were darker blue than I originally noted.
“Hi.” I squeaked.
“Mind if I join you?” His smile produced two dimples, one on each cheek.
“Sure.” I waved a hand at the empty seat in front of me, glad I hadn’t forgone the morning shower before heading out for my coffee. The bustle of the shop seemed to die down as he slid into his seat.
He started with small talk. Charming does not quite describe his tone, his eyes never left mine. His hand reached across the table and rested next to mine; I could feel the heat radiating from his skin. I had no doubt that a single touch from his hand would produce extreme heat inside of me.
At some point in the conversation he moved to the seat directly to my right. His hand covered mine and his thumb traced circles on the back of my hand. I had been right about the heat.
“Don’t be scared, but the moment I saw you I knew I wanted you.” His husky voice whispered into my ear. Instantly, my face flushed red and my panties became wet. Not unfamiliar to the one night stand, I felt the familiar twinge in my belly at the prospect. “And I always get what I want.” He took my earlobe between his teeth and bit down with enough pressure to get my breath to quicken.
“I’m not scared.” I said. He laughed.
“Good.” He took my hand and pulled my from my seat. I left the latte. He lead me to the men’s bathroom and locked the door behind us. I’d been in worse rooms. He peaked at his watch then reached for me. He pushed me against the door and captured my lips in a harsh, passionate kiss. He was crushing me, and I wasn’t stopping him.
His fingers worked my shirt up over my head before the action registered in my brain. His hands groped at my breasts, pulling my bra down to free them. He moaned into my mouth when I finally found my brains and put my hands to work. My hand slid down his hard abs, to his just as hard dick that pushed against this jeans.
The zipper came down easily. I fished around for the opening of his boxers, making the treasure that much sweeter when I found him. His skin was ho; his dick pulsed in my hand. I rubbed the tip of him, running the small bead of moisture around. We tore at each other.
He reached down, not letting our lips part, and yanked my skirt up to my hips and tore my panties free. “Sorry.” His apology muffled by our kisses. “Turn around.” He ordered and flipped me easily to face the door. He slapped my ass. “Stick it out.” He pulled my hips until I inched back, arching myself and presenting my ass to him. He kneaded my ass like a fresh batch of bread dough. He spread my cheeks and used his forefinger to trail a line from my wet pussy to my asshole. He shoved two fingers into my pussy and bit at my back. “Hot, so hot.” He kissed my shoulder.
His fingers were replaced by the head of his dick. I braced myself on the door a moment before he slammed into me. I cried out from the intense thickness of him. He reached in front of me and took my clit between his forefinger and his thumb. The slightest pressure there, combined with his animalistic thrusting had me moaning and writhing beneath him. He bucked against me, I pushed back at him- meeting him thrust for thrust.
My clit swelled beneath his fingers as he circled my clit. I pressed my whole body against the door, my tits crushed against the coolness of the door. His movements became more frantic. He increased the pressure on my clit. His breath was hot against my neck. My own breath became ragged as I found myself closer to the edge.
A slap to my ass signaled a fire in me that until that moment had never been ignited. I moved my hand to touch his and together we played with my pussy. A quick look over my shoulder at him I knew we were going to meet at the finish line soon. I gave a wry smile and pushed his fingers into my clit. A white heat took over my body. My thighs shook. Intense pulsating waves burst through me. I screamed out. His hand slapped over my mouth as he took his final strokes.
His dick twitched inside of me, I felt each wave of his orgasm. He jerked within me then rested his head on my back. His breathing came fast, his forehead was sweaty. Moments later he pulled free of me and zipped his pants back up.
I straightened my clothes out, best I could. I kept my eyes from him. I silently reached for the door. He put a large hand on the door to keep it closed and pulled me back to him. He captured me in another mouthwatering kiss. “Don’t go out there yet.” He whispered into my mouth between nibbles of my lip.
Loud noises invaded the room. Screams slipped under the door, surprising me. I pulled away from him and reached for the handle. He shook his head at me. Gun shots rang in my ear. He wrapped his arms around me and held me to his chest, stroking my hair. “Almost done.” He kissed my forehead. A few more shots then silence.
My heart pounded against him as we stayed wrapped in each others arms. My mind swirled, fear raped me.
A few minutes of quiet passed before he opened the door, still holding me in his arms. “It’s okay. You’re safe with me.” He walked me out of the bathroom.
Bodies lay scattered over the shop. Patrons laying over tables, huddled under chairs. Blood everywhere. The baristas all dead behind the counter. The murderer, the mass killer had blood in his perfectly combed blond hair. Still, not a single strand stood out in defiance.
“This is the one you saved?” He laughed, pointing his gun at me. “I had you pegged for the chesty brunette over there in the corner. This one’s so…mousy.” His lips curled over his radiantly white teeth.
“Don’t be an ass.” I heard from behind me. My hands shook. My eyes wandered over the carnage. No police sirens, where were they?! “C’mon.” I allowed him to lead me to the front door. I memorized every face of the dead as I passed them. “Don’t look at them. It’s better not to look.” He pulled me to him again as we walked out the front door.
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