I wanted him from the moment I saw his hands resting on the counter that rainy Friday afternoon at the pharmacy. They were neither callused, like a construction worker's, nor effete. His nails showed no signs of the dirt or grease that would evince a farmer or mechanic. They were trimmed to the quick, but the beds were long?a perfect end to the shapely fingers they capped. He waited patiently for his purchases to be rung, tapping his fingertips in time to the inoffensively boring music that wafted through the shop. I imagined that he worked in an office of some sort, for his hands bore no sign of manual labor. Yet they had a strength about them; an enticing dexterity that made me wish he was tapping them in a far more intimate place?a place that was growing warmer and wetter with each flex
Ataşehir Escort of his graceful knuckles. Perhaps he had a hobby or a vocation that required strong fingers. Maybe he was a pianist or a masseuse. I sighed in relief when I found no ring on his left hand, although I was baffled as to how anyone attached to those exquisite hands could possibly be single. As he held out his credit card to the cashier, he glanced over his shoulder at me. That was the first time I looked away from his hands and took in the rest of him. Unremarkable, really, in comparison to his hands. Neither tall nor short, thin nor fat. Roughly my age. Apparently in good health. Inviting mouth, with a welcoming smile and the white teeth of someone who eschewed coffee, tea, and tobacco.
Ataşehir Escort Bayan Not unattractive, but not stunning either. He smelled of a woodsy soap, rugged and pleasant. And he carried himself with a quiet confidence, a take-it-or-leave-it attitude that was more contented than arrogant. His hazel eyes held a mischievous sparkle, though, and when they caught mine, I fancied I saw a spark of recognition. And a question posed with one raised eyebrow. I not only saw it; I heard it just as clearly as if he'd spoken it?or, rather, kissed it onto the skin of my neck, just below my ear. And I felt it, down there, between my legs. There is no way he could've missed the shiver that passed through my body at that moment. I knew instantly that I
Escort Ataşehir would follow him wherever he led, just for the chance to feel those hands on my skin. He could be an axe murderer, I cautioned myself. My rational side was muzzled by a libido that would not be denied. He signed his name and collected his purchases, stepping aside and turning toward the door. I wanted to call out to him, to tell him to wait for me, but my voice stuck in my throat. The clerk nudged my shoulder to get my attention, and I hastily attended to my transaction with a sheepish flush across my cheeks. Outside, the rain fell in buckets, and I stood beneath the awning, steeling myself for the dash to my car while hoping I'd have enough private time to take the edge off my hunger before the kids got home from school. Wouldn't take long with the image of those hands in the forefront of my mind. I took a deep breath and stepped off the curb?and there he was! He took my elbow, silently urging me to run with him. I fancied I could feel the heat and texture of his fingertips through the thick corduroy of my jacket sleeve.
