waiting...

A hand rests lightly on the bottom of the leather wrapped steering wheel. Reclined in a bucket seat, he sits waiting, sunglasses at night covering half-closed lids. The soft but persistent sound of rain, washes out the sounds of the city. He waits with the radio turned down, loud enough only to mark the passage of time. His cock, the only thing not torpid. It strains against the zipper of his jeans. Slowly and painfully his stiffening shaft bends sharply back upon it self. He reaches beneath his boxers and corrects his course.

Relaxed again, he half-dreams of the woman for whom he waits. His cock swells with every reminisce. Kissing the freckles on her back. The curve of her shoulder into neck. The smell of her pussy, moistening. The firm but gentle stroke of her hand on his tumescence. Her smile as they fall asleep.

A pair of bright red shoes appears on the stairs in the distance. Stalking clad legs appear with the next step. A red dress and then a soft face appear from the stairwell in the near-distance, with the next steps. He draws a breath sharply with recognition. He tenses slightly, at the sight of her. His cock, jerks up above the waist of his jeans, fully aroused.

His pulse speeds. Desire clouds his vision.

He draws a breath, then exhales slowly. He starts the car and pulls forward. A sly smile creeps upon his lips. He can smell her, already.