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"Stay"
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"Stay" "Stay" Whoooossshhh…. and with that, the closing door leaves the relatively quiet calm of a frigid Ohio December morning behind and is quickly replaced with a multi-pronged sensory attack. From here, the sounds, best described as morning madness, are familiar but require a moment to compartmentalize. Orders being taken, conversations had about weather & the holidays, the whirring and grinding of the different machines. Second, but not by much however, are the smells… ”Mmm, God I love how it smells here!” feeling the corners of my mouth drawing up into a slight smile. From sweet bakery, to salty ham and bacon based breakfast sandwiches to the freshly ground and then brewed coffees. Slipping from my comfy warm Uggs, the floor is cold under my feet as I grab for my flats. As they dropped to the floor, once again I spread my toes with a little wiggle, the bright light catching the high gloss shellac I paid extra for. “Damn, she was right…this dark cranberry red does look good against the contrast of my pale white skin.” I am suddenly more convinced that the higher price and extra tip was well worth it as I slip into my shoes. Slowly and purposely I stretch, arms extended up, long deep breaths; adjusting my pony, smiling as I think back to… WHAM… the hit comes unannounced from behind, arms squeezing tight around my midsection, but why do they have a pillow between? It takes but a second, and I realize that Samantha is my accoster. Her more than ample 36Cs pressing into my back. “Hey girl, how are you?” She laughs as she can tell she definitely managed to catch me off guard. Just as I catch my breath, I am once startled as her grip around my waist is replaced by reaching up and squeezing my breasts! “So, how are the girls? Damn, I think they’re getting bigger? OMG, THOs…you got THOs…!!!” “What…? What are you even talking about?” “THOs - titty hard ons… your nipples are hard, and you could probs cut glass with them!?!?!” “What in the actual Hell is wrong with you?” Taking a finger and twisting, she immediately lets go and I complete the move by grabbing her hand, twisting under and pushing up so her hand is now inverted as her fingers are painfully, and unnaturally, pointing at her elbow. She gives a slight shriek, satisfied I let go. As she spins around we embrace in a more formal hug exchanged by most cousins. Yep, Sam’s my cousin and we work together at the coffee shop. “Jules…so…tell me, how’s it going?” “Good, everything’s great, you?” “Look here, don’t be an ass…you owe me details. I haven’t seen you in three days and I get ‘good’?? Wrong answer, we are still doing drinks tonight, right? Or are you blowing me off again, so you can blow dude again?” Her sentence trails off just as Thom passes through. He looks judgingly at the two of us. Without a word, Sam points at me and shrugs to him. “Seriously, what is wrong with you?” I ask, returning to fix my pony. Heading back to the floor she reminds me of our plans, “Tonight, 8pm, the Olive…see you there slutbunny”. “God, she needs help” I think to myself as I finish straightening myself. Before heading out to the counter, I run a hand over my shirt, THOs, I guess I do have them…smiling, I think back to just a… “Jules can you grab two things of creamer on your way out here, thanks…!!!” The thought dissipates and I’m off. Hitting the floor, a quick scan reveals all the regulars, as I grab the cream, from a distance comes… ”There’s Ms. Julie!!” Without turning I know in an instant that it is the Patterson’s, specifically Jim. As I turn, as per usual he is accompanied by Mrs.P, Jill. A cute couple, mid 50s, very outgoing and known to tip generously. They're standing at the open end of the counter. Rushing over, dropping off the creamers in stride, I'm greeted by Mrs. Patterson with a hug. Moving on to Jim, his hugs are usually stronger and linger for a slight moment, nothing inappropriate mind you. Just something you might more accustomed to with a close relative you haven't seen in a while. As we pull in tight, something is different, but also strangely familiar. Then it hits me... "Did someone get new cologne!?!?" "Aha, yeah...Jill's idea. She said she was tired of my Old Spice day after day". Taking over Jill says "It's by Tom Ford, it's called..." "Tobacco Vanille" we both exclaim simultaneously. "So, you know of it?'' she inquires. "Yeah, kinda...'' my smile growing "it's my new fave''. As I finish my sentence and Mrs. Patterson continues on. "If he knew what I paid for it..." I don't quite catch the end of her sentence as Jim's cologne has not only sent my olfactory senses into overdrive, but I now find myself thinking back to just a few hours earlier... "I hear the weather is going to get very, very cold soon." Jill has moved on, but so have I, and this time the resolve of my recall stands firm. For the third time in as many days I find myself snuggled comfortably in the early morning hours. I have the collar of the oversized t-shirt I'm wearing pulled up over the bridge of my nose taking in the wonderful smell of fresh Carolina tobacco and sweet vanilla from Madagascar. Laying on my side, I am suddenly aware of his hand on my hip, without acknowledging him, I continue to lay still. His hand then moves under the cover and begins to slowly draw up the length of his shirt that I am wearing. At the end of the shirt he slips his hand under it. It's warm against my hip and feels good. Slowly running it over my hip to my stomach, it lingers there for a moment. Involuntarily, my stomach contracts and flinches several times. Similar to, when as , going over a country road hill at decent speed. Smiling, I think to myself ,"OMG, did he just feel that too?" Moving slowly upward, lightly brushing past my breast, his hand holds my face as he leans in... "Jules why don't you just stay?" |
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Wow. Good for you Jules! Well written too. Remember, he is even luckier than you feel you are! 
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