The old café sat quietly between two businesses that had been shut down for years. The crickets hung out outside underneath the streetlamps at night yet its unattractiveness didn't keep people from coming into the place for warm coffee at the best price in town. The waitresses never budged you if you sat around for hours and only came by when they knew you needed a refill. From inside you could sit and watch the snowfall in winter and you would never guess it was below freezing out there. Outside, however, the building was worn and patches of paint were chipped off and there were cracks along the sidewalk.
After a short day at work Greg had no intentions of going back to his empty apartment without first having a snack and perhaps some coffee to kill some time. The old bell rang, with hardly a sound, hitting the glass door of the coffee house in a very common manner. He had never been in this place, but often passed by it on the way home. It had been about a week since his last girlfriend moved out of his apartment and he was barely coping. He thought for sure he had lost about 10 lbs during those seven days, for he had drunk every day since with hardly a meal in between. His boss had told him that if he didn't straighten up he'd lose his job. So today, this cool winter afternoon Greg decided to substitute his liquor for coffee and get some food in his system.
He chose a seat by the window at the far end of the place, hoping he wouldn't be bothered by anyone other than the waitress. Not long after he sat down he was greeted by a red-headed waitress with curly hair, freckles and a really big fictitious-looking smile. He reluctantly ordered a donut to have alongside his coffee. He looked around at the rundown place and the walls smudged with dirt from the years. He wondered how long the place had been there.
He sat staring into nothing, his wrinkled white shirt giving others a reason to take a second look at him in his work clothes. He had already noticed the freckle faced waitress whispering into the ear of another, chubby and young as they both glanced over at him in a very obvious manner. He decided not to care. Sure, the attention was flattering but this was not the right place, or so he thought. His ex-girlfriend Sharon was far from his thoughts by now. He had loved her, but not to the point of marriage, which is why she left him in the first place.
"Here's your coffee honey. What's a catch like you doin' in here by yourself?"
Greg looked up at her, an old lady with her left hand bent on her hip as if demanding an answer. She just stood there grinning with her big yellow coffee-stained teeth. This time her smile was sincere.
"Catch?" The old redhead noticed the slight confusion on his handsome face. He had perfect eyebrows atop beautiful grey eyes, yet one of them had raised in a most sexually appealing manner as he asked the question. Just as he had asked he realized that she was flirting with him. He felt a bit dumb for not realizing it.
"Let me know if you need something, sugar." She walked off slowly, but not before softly stroking his dark hair still holding that flirty smile on her wrinkled face.
He sat there, trying not to think of his now lost love and the only other thing that seemed to trigger his thoughts was work. He felt ridiculous wearing a white button down collared shirt to work everyday. He was a t-shirt and jeans type of guy who loved rock n' roll and pretty women. He somewhat regretted not seeing the end of his relationship being that they were completely different people. Sharon was a country girl who listened to country music, attended church regularly and lacked openness. She had somehow tamed Greg down and kept him from being the bachelor he so enjoyed being and at times even made him dress to her standards as well. He thought over that, wondering how he'd let such a person change him so much if she claimed to have loved him. Their relationship deteriorated once he'd begun to question her actions.
'Look on the bright side', he thought to himself 'at least you don't have to hear her bitchin' about not going to church, listening to the devil's music, and having to dress appropriately even to go take a romantic stroll in the park…' Which was something else he'd rather not be doing when so many good horror flicks were playing and good hard rock concerts that he no longer had to miss because of her.
He smiled to himself now, taking a bite out of his donut. He thought for a minute a window seat may have been nice after all, yet he remained where he was. His positive thoughts grew along with his new outlook on life. He used to be a big believer in the saying that everything happens for a reason and with that his thoughts of Sharon drowned away in his cup of coffee.
He looked at his wristwatch then and it read 4p.m. His donut was gone, his coffee had just been refilled and he considered leaving when something caught his eye. The dull rusty bell had clinked on the glass door. He had failed to look up, as he had been putting sugar in his coffee. Just as he set the cup down after a warm drink he noticed a beautiful brunette sitting across the way alone about three booths down. She looked about his age, mid-to-late twenties with a beautiful wave to her shoulder length hair. She had hazel eyes, as they did meet, and she smiled shyly at him with her red-stained mouth. She was right up his alley as he smiled back briefly unable to hold the stare on such a beautiful woman. She was photographic material, another hobby of Greg's that he'd given up to Sharon's demanding ways. He tried to sneak looks at her, here and there as the old chubby waitress tended to her and in his mind he placed her in different places. He pictured her in 50's lingerie her curvy breasts showing over the top of her lace brazier. He pictured her with long, smooth legs parted in a suggesting pose with that pretty smile of hers. He pictured her in his bed, naked and soft awaiting his rough touch.
The girl, Juliana, was having coffee as well, he noticed, but nothing else. She had just come from work, still wearing her matching black skirt and blazer. Her undershirt was a white, lace trimmed tank that didn't fail to show off her cleavage. She was much thinner than Sharon and she had a wild angel look to her that men often couldn't get enough of. Despite her beauty, Juliana was quite down to earth though she did love to party.
The old door bell rang again and an old big couple sat in the booth in front of Greg, blocking his view of Juliana. His watch read 5 p.m. and he decided to finally head home. He dropped the old red-headed waitress a good tip and proceeded towards the door passing by the gorgeous brunette. Without turning his head he eyeballed her, noticing her smile back devilishly as if she'd known he'd look. Needless to say, Greg walked out with a big smile on his face.
A few minutes later he walked up to his doorstep and into the place he'd been avoiding all day. It was unclean and messy, yet it did not smell bad. Once inside, he threw his white collared shirt on to the sofa where it made a soft landing on top of all the other clothes he'd worn during the week. He found a small spot to sit on that wasn't piled up with work shirts and he allowed himself to fall there after turning on the television. He found a descent music channel to watch as he took his cell phone out of his pocket as if awaiting a call. He watched for a few minutes the bodies moving around, singing and dancing…then he dozed off.
In his dream, he sat lazily at his sofa wearing boxers and a wifebeater watching music videos only half of which were of his interest. A woman's voice said his name eerily as if underwater. He turned around then and behind the sofa stood Juliana, staring at him as if awaiting a response. He smiled at her and quickly stood up. She walked around the couch nearing him and he met her halfway. She had on a white nightgown; it was long and silky. She truly was beautiful, her figure thin but just enough, her eyes set on Greg. She stood completely still now, with her arms hanging down, hiding nothing. She had nothing to be ashamed of. Even her feet, he noticed, were pretty. Despite the 3 foot distance between them, he could smell her. She smelled like flowers and candy and he became immediately aroused.
Her gaze called unto him, to please her and there was no way he would resist. He walked over to her and slipped his right hand around her hip to feel her figure. Their eyes met and he kissed her red lips. She softly stroked his muscular left arm up around the shoulders. Her left hand clenched his shirt strongly, pulling him closer to her, though closer he could not get. The kiss was deep and meaningful and undoubtedly a welcoming to more. He had both hands on her buttocks and a few seconds later they had made their way to the crowded sofa. Greg was quick to remove the garments off the sofa just as he was to remove them off of Juliana. She didn't stop him. He had simply slid the straps of her nightgown off her shoulders and let it drop to the floor. It made no sound. Her breasts were full and perfectly curved and her hips so sensual. She wore no panties. Her privacy was angelic. A perfect woman, indeed. A devilish smile came to her lips.
He aggressively poised her on the sofa facing away from him. She complied. He pulled his boxers off revealing a very hard member. He irresistibly placed his rough hands on her pale buttocks and squeezed them, for they were so round and perky. He examined her from behind and he gently touched her up between her shapely legs. She was already wet. He ran his hands up her back and back down to her hips which he reached around and held. He pushed himself into her and she let out a moan, sounding just as sweet as she. She was very warm inside; just as he'd expected. He started with a slow, hard thrust making sure this would be a lasting moment. She felt so good to him and he couldn't remember the last time he'd had sex. Even then, it hadn't been this good. He hungrily groped her full breasts from underneath her and played with her erect nipples. They felt so soft to him as he seemed to knead them in pleasure. He bit her gently on her back and she moaned again as if wanting more. With every thrust she moaned and groaned and even said his name. He thrust deeper and deeper each time by now in a rhythmic motion. Her pleasure moans turned into low screams and he felt her muscles inside her contract in orgasmic spasms. Her insides grew hotter still and no longer did he contain himself, coming inside her like a volcanic eruption in heaven. Then a phone rang.
Greg awoke to find himself erect, but disappointingly alone in the apartment. His cell phone rang loudly and he finally came to enough to reach for it. It was an unknown caller. He never answered those calls and he felt that if you knew him, you wouldn't call him from an unknown number. He hit the dismiss button on his phone and thought about his wonderful, short-lived dream. In a split-second, many thoughts ran through his head, like running back to the café to see if she might still be there. But what would he say to her? He couldn't tell her about the dream. Na, he thought. Surely a beautiful woman like that would be married. He thought about her hazel eyes and her gothic wavy hair. And her scent, that wonderful scent of perfection that he'd never before smelled on a woman. It still lingered in his mind.
"What the fuck" he said to no one as he quickly got dressed and ran out the door to head back to the café. Halfway down the steps to his apartment he considered going back to change, for he had just thrown on a t-shirt and the jeans he'd worn the day before after work. Thinking he may be out of time, though, he ignored his nudging mind and began walking faster.
The day had begun to end and there wasn't much daylight left as he walked hurriedly on the old cracked sidewalks nearing his destination. He glanced at the other side of the street, at the pedestrians hoping to see Juliana walking home. He didn't know what he'd do if he saw her. There was always the possibility that she'd accuse him of stalking her. Perhaps he would keep a distance. Perhaps this wasn't even worth his time. What if she was married? What if she wasn't interested? What if she broke his heart? She was worth it, he thought.
Suddenly, a few blocks from the café he glanced upward. Coming towards him was the woman, wearing her blue business suit, white lace showing from atop her blazer. Her body moved sensuously feminine. He stopped dead in his tracks and stared. There she was, just as he'd hoped. Now what, he wondered.
A devilish smile came to her crimson lips.
"Hi, Greg", she said.