God, is she hitting on me? “You’re funny,” she says while she straightens back up.“Thanks,” I mutter. This is officially thirty seconds longer than I want any conversation with a stranger to go.“Want anything else? Coffee on an empty stomach can kill your insides.”“No, I’m fine. I’m waiting for a friend,” I say. Something in her wilts. Damn, I think she was hitting on me.“Alright, well if you need anything, I’m June,” she offers her hand out to me, and I shake it.“Nice to meet you,” I say. “I’m Sarah.”“That’s a pretty name,” she adds and holds onto my hand longer than I’m comfortable with.“So is June. My favorite month, actually.”“Two pretty names for two pretty girls,” she says with a wink and walks away.Holy shit, she was hitting on me. I blush with the realization, but then get really embarrassed. Was I supposed to flirt back? No. I have a boyfriend. I’m straight for fucks sake. I mean, I agree with Carl, everyone’s a little bi. But I’m not flirt-with-random-waitress-girl bi.I. On the opposite side were two mostly closed doors which I assumed went into his bedroom and bathroom. In the main area was a couch, coffee table, and television currently tuned to whatever college bowl game was on at the moment. Before I could determine the teams and score, he had me pressed against the wall next to the front door. At 6’4” he was quite a bit taller than I, even with the nearly 4 inch heels I had worn out of vanity. I had to tilt my head back to meet his eyes. Once I did, there was no hope of me looking anywhere else. One of his hands reached behind me, cupping my ass through my blue jean skirt, and the other caught me along the side of my neck to hold me in place as he bent down to kiss me. The feel of his lips on mine ignited a burning fire that was impossible to ignore. The force of his kiss separated my lips as his tongue dove into my mouth. His whole body pressed mine against the wall. I could feel his erection press into my crotch as he almost lifted me off of.
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