It was another night as many before sitting at Starbucks drinking coffee, reading blogs and writing; nothing special, nothing different about this night then any other; that was till she walked in.
I heard her before I saw her, her stiletto heels tapping across the tiled floor in a walk that spoke of confidence. I looked up at the sound and there she was, striding across the floor approaching the counter like she owned the place.
One couldn’t help but notice her; she was dressed in a black skirt, white blouse and a black jacket over top. She had a figure that most women would kill for and a presence to match it. Even without the heels she was tall which only added to her presence. Her hair was jet black and her eyes matched.
Her hair was the only thing out of place on her. It was a tousled, tangled mess so out of place with the rest of her. Looking at it one could even say she had sex hair, like she just ran out of the house after a wild wanton encounter.
I took a break from my endeavors on the laptop and watched her intently.
While I couldn’t hear what she was saying from where I was sitting I saw her lips moving as she gave her order to the barista behind the counter. Once her order had been place she moved to the back to wait.
I couldn’t clearly see her from my seat yet my gaze never waivered. My mind was spinning a hundred miles a minute. What was going on, what was her story?
As she picked up her order from the counter I saw her nod and smile as she turned and walked back to the door. Again her heels tapping on the tile floor with that confident walk of hers. I was surprised to see two drinks in her hands as she pushed open the door.
I expected her to head for her car and there be someone else in there waiting for her. Instead she moved to the side of the door; stopped and began scanning the parking lot.
For several minutes she stood there, waiting, looking, watching.
She never faltered from her spot, that was her ground and she was going to stand there for as long as she needed to.
A few minutes later a man showed up, a tall Latin gentleman, he as well; was dressed in black; there was nothing about him that was out of place. He wore a suit that fit him like a glove, his hair full and dark again with black eyes to match. His hair though was the complete opposite of hers, not a single one out of place.
She handed him one of the drinks in her hand and they headed for a table on the patio. They sat down and I could see them engaged in conversation while they drank.
Her mood lightened as they talked; while before her demeanor had been stern now her face softened and she looked more relaxed.
From my seat I had a clear view of them on the patio, although it was times like this that I wished I had learned to read lips or be a fly on the wall for their conversation.
Once more her demeanor changed, she became nervous, her eyes darting back and forth. Her companion became insistent like her was urging her on. I dipped my head down as if I was concentrating on the laptop in front of me, but my eyes never left those two on the patio.
Once more she shook her head no, he didn’t seem to be getting angry only more insistent upon something.
Finally she gave up her struggle at what he wanted. She slowly began removing her jacket. As she did a smile began spreading across his face as he sat back in his chair and relaxed.
Once she had her jacket off she hung it over the arm of the chair she was sitting in. She hesitated for a moment as she looked at him. He nodded to her as if signaling her to continue with what she was supposed to be doing. The whole time the smile never waivered from his face.
From inside I could see their eyes lock, for a moment I forgot to even breath as I watched them. Only for the briefest of instances did her gaze slip from his as she quickly scanned the surroundings.
Her hands then went to the top of her blouse as she reached for the first button. She slowly undid the top button; her hand slid down to the next one and undid it. Her eyes never moved from his as the next two buttons slipped free from her blouse.
This time without the slightest hesitation she pulled open her blouse. His smile beamed from ear to ear at what he saw. From my seat and my upturned eyes I could see quite clearly myself.
Under her blouse she wore no bra, her breasts free from those confines. They weren’t as free as one may think though, oh no.
For I saw what did hold those firm breasts of hers beneath that blouse.
Rope, hemp rope to be exact, intricately woven into a harness around her chest and breasts was a Shibari weave.
It seemed like time stood still for me as I watched, I could only imagine what it was like for her.
Finally he nodded and she began buttoning her blouse back up once more. Putting her jacket back on they finished their drinks, got up, tossed the empty cups in the trash and left.