The Window


I had walked down that hall a million times and looked out that very window just as many times as I had walked by it peering down at the people below wondering where they were all going but today my window was occupied.  Occupied by that mysterious “oh my God he’s so cute” guy that I had scene in the library a few times.  The one I wanted to talk to and when he looked at me I would look away and then look back and he was still looking.  There he was standing in the way of my view and from what I saw standing there he had the same wonderment about that quiet glass covered world below as I did.  He looked very lost in thought and I assumed it was thoughts based on the book in his hand but if he was anything like me at all it was the book and much more.  He didn’t look distressed though yet rather curious instead.  I appreciated that.  I smiled as I my legs began to move slower and my body seemed to be reacting to his long frame leaning on that window sill.  I felt my stomach squeeze and my mouth began to dry as I tried to swallow.  He was beautiful in the sunlight that shone in as one beam and then another hit his bare forearm that lead up to his hand touching his lip.  I licked my own lips as I watched him watching the world go by.  His sweater looked old an worn and comfortable. I bet he’d had it a long time.  I bet it smelled of his person.  His scent stuck on the woven cotton as he dare not wash it too often as not to let the washing take away from its comfort.  I could see myself pulling in on over my head and letting it be baggy on my naked skin as we sat and talked and I tucked my knees up under it and let it hold me together as it looks like it’s holding him in the light pouring in that window.  His hair combed back surly by his own hand.  No need for a brush with locks as perfectly fit like those.  Oh and I bet his body underneath that sweater was just as fit.  I could tell by his arms and the veins under his skin that popped up. I wanted to touch them.  His eyes were like blue diamonds from some mystical mountain that desired to be climbed and claimed by my own hands.  And sure enough as I was staring and losing myself in a full blown erotic fantasy, he looked at me.  I stopped, he kept looking.  He smiled.  His lips curled at the edges and his eyes hardened while they danced over me like a sugar plum fairy on the stage at a ballet.  They stuck back to my gaze and we were locked in.  I smiled back and walked towards him.  I tried to keep myself confident and pleaded to the Gods above that I be as graceful as I possibly could and not stumble physically over my own feet or mentally over my words as I began to talk to him.

We discussed the window and the people walking down the sidewalks below.  The hustle and bustle of the city so quiet from up here behind the glass.  We talked about his book and why he’d read it twice already and his likes of literature and mine seemed similar and I found him utterly fascinating.  This stranger in the window was becoming a bit of an obsession of mine for the moment and all time seemed to have stopped.  I forgot where I was going and why and he didn’t seem to have a need to be anywhere so we kept on.  His voice was low and husky with an accent that left me nearly debilitated with each emphasized syllable.  I could listen to him for hours.  The first time he swore made me shutter and the second made me smile.  He seemed very comfortable standing in that window talking to me.  His skin was so light and gentle looking in the sunlight.  It was like porcelain.  I wanted desperately to touch it.  It was hard to concentrate on what he was saying because the mouth that the words were coming out of was designed for nothing but kissing.  His lips were perfectly pink, almost as if they were stained with wine from Dionysus himself.  I was in a trance like state.  Nothing existed at all but he and I.  At one point I laughed and he put his hand on mind that rested on the window sill and I felt as if I were shocked or burnt.  I couldn’t tell which one it was but I felt warm afterwards.  My entire body was enflamed especially from the waist down.  I literally felt weak in the knees.  And when he laughed and he showed his full smile, I am positive I died and became reincarnated right there as we stood.

We discussed the library and he quickly offered to take me to a special area where he finds most of his hidden gems, like the one in his hand.  Now normally, I would hear my mothers voice telling me not to go with a stranger to the library but if she saw him, I bet she’d tell me to go with him.  So I followed along side him to the elevators.  We went up a bout 6 floors I think and stepped out.  As soon as we did that smell hit me.  The paper smell that I love.  He noticed and smirked and said he adores the smell of real books especially old ones.  We walked through the stacks to a section that did look very old.  I hadn’t been on this floor before and I was in heaven.  A beautiful book wielding man standing so tall over me and so close to me that I could feel his body heat on my skin.  It was crackling with tension as we stood so close.  His royal eyes scanning me over and over as we walked up and down the narrow book isles.  I picked a few and he picked two and he began to read from one.  He had chosen poetry and as he recited the verse I nearly came undone right there in that isle.  I had taken my jacket off so my chest was exposed under my v neck t-shirt and it was moving quickly from my breathing change.  I was swallowing my sounds that were becoming audible I am sure.  It was so quiet he had to have heard me moan or at least have witnessed me biting my lip so hard I nearly drew blood.  He stopped and looked up. I was standing there in my grey shirt and jeans, the one with hole in the knee and my red converse fiddling with my fingers as I leaned against the book shelf. I had tucked my black hair behind my ear and he walk towards me with the book now down at his side and reached up and untucked my hair.  His touch was so gentle and meaningful.  I closed my eyes when he did it and my breath was hard out of my open mouth.  He ran his hand fully through my untucked hair and as he did he pulled my head towards him and our lips met.  I wasn’t stopping him.  I was going to let this man from the window with his lustful looks and his longing stare and his delicious lips kiss me and take me on a fantasy walk with our bodies.

My hands went to his waist and when they did he made a sound.  It was an “oh” sound and he moved backwards against the books.  He was so tall that he spread his legs apart so he was at a better height for me to reach him at.  And I was right, that sweater felt as soft as it looked.  Our lips and tongues were in unison and our bodies moving like a dance in the isle.  I was against him as close as I could be.  His hands were large and traveled up and down my back stopping at my backside gripping me, kneading me like he’d never touched a woman before.  I braved it and put my hands under that soft sweater as I wanted to feel him.  Touch him.  Make him feel me.  His hard body trembling under my touch as I ran my hands up over his chest and back down over his stomach.  I pulled it up and saw the firm build of a man who takes care of his body and I had no choice but to kiss him there.  I trailed kisses down his upper body with no fear and I breathed him in as I did it.  He smelled clean and masculine.  I never wanted to loose that scent.  His head tilted back and then forward to watch me kissing him. Our eyes stayed fixed on one another. He pulled me up to him taking me with his mouth once more.  The kissing assault continued as time froze in that isle.  The sounds that came out of mouth excited him as he moved me around.  My back was against the books now and he was trying to prop me up so he could get a better angle with my body touching his.  The rhythm kept going.  The moving, the kissing, he moans and groans and grunts and whimpers.  I wanted to explode.  He had ignited me with sheer curiosity standing in the window while the sun lit him like a spot light.  His hands making me shiver and quiver and his body pressed against mine so hard that I felt like it would leave a permanent imprint on me and I would love that.  A forever reminder of the window man in the soft sweater with perfect hair and lips with the sole purpose of pleasure.  And I was devouring that pleasure one delectable kiss at a time.  His teeth grazing my jaw now and biting at my neck.  I could barely stand it.  I was combustible.  I was flammable. One spark and I would blow.  That’s all it would take and he knew it.  He knew what he needed to do and he did it.  With his touch he did it.  I fell over the edge and he caught me.  He caught me with his bare hands as I leaned into him.  My hands gripping his shoulders and his pulling and tugging at that sweater.  I dug into him as my breathing got louder and my body clinched.  I was undone.  Completely.

It was just us, alone with the books and my breathless body resting against his.  He held me up and pulled me to him.  He held me.  Close.  And I smiled and looked up at him. He pressed his lips to my forehead and then kissed me again.  Softly, slowly and our lips both smiled.  Those books held a secret now.  And so did my mind.  That window will never have the same composition again and my body will never be the same since I decided to stop and talk to that man who blocked my view.  There will be a panoramic pleasure now when I see that window and the sight and spectacle of him will forever be etched in my brain and mine in his and what a scene that was I am sure with only those old books as our witnesses and the vision of our encounter added to the library of our imaginations for the future to fuel our day dreams and day dream we shall.

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