She had a nice hourglass figure. I slipped my hands underneath her shirt; the skin on her back was smooth. It felt so good. I moved my hands around to her stomach, and then up to her chest. I cupped her firm breasts. She then broke away from the kiss. “I can’t do this,” she said and ran out of the room. I stood there dumbfounded. “Damn it,” I thought. I was so close. This sucks. Her car was gone by the time I finished changing, and she didn’t get back until late, close to 1am. I of course was still, still thinking about what had happened. I wondered if I had blown my chance, if I did too much too quickly. No, she still wants me. Like the night before I waited until she went to bed before sneaking into her room. I climbed into bed with her. She was lying on her back again. I got on top of her and started kissing her. She kissed me back, her hands rubbing up and down my body. We rolled around. I touched her thighs, slowly moving my hands up her body. My hands slid. As usual, everywhere you looked there was wall to wall traffic as I sat in my Lambo idly tapping my fingers on the wheel waiting for the lights ahead of me to change. To my left was a well worn yellow taxi with the driver looking as resigned as I felt as the minutes passed and no fucker moved an inch.All around us the great mass of the rush hour made their ways to wherever they were going that helped pay the bills, put food on the table, and keep the wolf from the door. A grumbling tide of huddled humanity working for the man so he could buy another yacht and send his two point four kids to Harvard. At least in stocks, I had room to breathe. Room to be a sex-obsessed resolutely single thirty-year-old asshole with no one to care about other than self. Look after number one. Life was much simpler that way. The only fate that matters is the fate you make for yourself.Finally, the traffic began to move.Little did I know that fate had other plans for me.*The light glowed a deep red in the.
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