Snatching the radio again, she answered impatiently, “Yeah, I’m on it. Give me a couple minutes to get there.” She reached into her hip pocket and handed something to me. “Here,” she said. “In case you have another impulse.”
I automatically accepted the small rectangle of cardboard but before I could comment, she was gone. Reading the print on the card, I had to laugh. “Season Pass: Admission for One.” The fair never lasted more than a week, and it was already Thursday.
The next day I was restless at work. I had five depositions to type and two more that needed to be scheduled. The law firm had recently added a new junior partner and I fervently hoped they’d hire another paralegal as well.
The weather matched my mood that afternoon. It had been raining for hours. Not a downpour, but a steady stream that kept my wipers busy on the drive home. I knew the rain would have caused the fair to cancel for the night, but I turned off the highway just the same.
The front gate was closed and the ticket booth empty. There were lights on in a few of the trailers and for just an instant, I thought I saw a figure wearing a blue ball cap dart from one to another. I turned my car around and made my way back home.
Saturday morning I took advantage of my day off and slept in until eight. The sun was out in full force, making up for yesterday. I knew it was the last day of the fair, but I wanted to wait until evening to go. I told myself it would be cooler then, but the real reason was Shayne. I was hoping she worked the same hours as she had on Thursday.
Dressing for comfort, I put on my usual khaki shorts and sleeveless polo. I made the short drive out to the edge of town in record time. Parking was free the final night and I showed my season pass at the ticket gate.
The crowd was large, people not wanting to miss whatever magic was left in this last rite of summer. I traveled down the midway,
scanning the rides. After a half hour of searching with no sign of Shayne, I was having a hard time convincing myself I wasn’t terribly disappointed.
Not yet ready to leave, I walked up to the nearest booth and laid some money down. Too late, I realized it was a shooting game. I had never held anything besides a Super Soaker and doubted my ability to hit a target.
The man behind the counter picked up an old lever-action Daisy BB rifle. Cocking it once, he handed it to me. The general idea seemed to be to knock over one of the inverted Styrofoam cups and win the prize that matched the number beneath it.
My first shot missed completely and went into the backstop of straw bales. The man took the gun from me, cocked it again, and handed it back. My second attempt winged a cup but it remained upright. As he took the rifle from me again, I began to suspect that the old gun didn’t even have enough air pressure to knock the cups over. Taking aim with my last shot, I heard a voice behind me say, “I thought that was you.”
Turning around, I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face. There stood Shayne, with her Cubs hat and radio but minus the sunglasses. She wore a black T-shirt with white lettering that spelled “Security” across the front. The corner of her mouth lifted in a crooked grin and I was momentarily stunned by how attractive she was.
“I was hoping that you might come back,” she said. “Win anything yet?” She nodded toward the booth.
Finding my voice again, I said, “Hi. No, this isn’t really my forte.”
“Maybe I can give you a few pointers. I’m Shayne, by the way.”
“I know. I mean, I heard,” I explained by way of gesturing toward her radio. I extended my hand. “Allison.”
“Allison,” she repeated, folding my hand in hers. Leaning closer, she whispered, “Let’s win something.”
“She’s playing again,” Shayne told the man as she passed a folded bill across the counter and turned her ball cap backward. Taking the BB gun from me, she cocked it four times and gave it back. Positioning herself close behind me but not actually touching me with any part of her body except her hands, she began coaching.
“Snug the butt up against your shoulder and support the barrel with your left hand. Wrap your right hand around here and squeeze—don’t pull—the trigger when you’re ready.”
She put her hands over mine and helped hold the Daisy steady as I tried again. With the added air pressure and the perfect aim, the Styrofoam cup flew off the shelf. I was so excited I let out a totally uncharacteristic scream and Shayne burst out laughing. The man behind the counter didn’t look nearly as enthused as we were, but only raised one eyebrow at Shayne and said nothing.
Twice more we blew a cup away and the man handed me two small stuffed animals and a key chain. I was more than satisfied, but Shayne was preoccupied looking at the bigger prizes that hung from the top of the booth.
“Which one of those do you like?” she asked.
“These are fine,” I laughed, gathering up my souvenirs.
“How many to trade up for one of those?” she asked.
“Ten,” he replied.
Another folded bill passed between them and once again Shayne handed me the Daisy. I wondered just how much she was paying the guy and I started to protest, but she only placed her hands on my waist and gently turned me around. A few people had stopped to watch, making me nervous, and it took fifteen shots to accumulate ten small toys.
“Now, which one do you like?” Shayne asked me again, looking pleased with herself.
Shaking my head, I scanned the animals. “Snoopy,” I decided.
“Snoopy it is,” Shayne told the man, who was obviously relieved to see us leave.
Checking her watch, Shayne frowned. Thinking maybe I had kept her from her job too long, I suddenly felt foolish. “If you need to get back to work, please don’t let me keep you.”
“Oh no.” She seemed surprised. “I’m not working tonight. I was just seeing if we had time to take in some rides. They’re closing early tonight.”
“I’m really not much of a ride person.”
“Not even the Ferris wheel? If we wait until they start shutting down, I can pretty much guarantee us a spectacular view.”
Giving in to the expectant look on her face, I agreed. We walked in companionable silence as the crowd got thinner. The lights up and down the midway blinked off once, twice, signaling the close of the fair. Shayne led the way toward the Ferris wheel and called out to the man I remembered from the other day.
“Hey, Jimmy, can you hold off for one more ride?” Shayne placed her hand on the small of my back, guiding me closer. “We want to see the view from the top.”
Casting a curious glance in my direction, he replied, “Sure, just don’t stay up there all night, okay?”
“Thanks, Jimmy. We won’t. I’ll yell when we’re ready to come down,” she said, tapping her radio. Taking Snoopy and sitting him against the fence, she placed her cap on his head and said, “Don’t want him getting sick up there.” With that, Shayne motioned me into the swinging compartment and slid in after me.
The wheel slowly turned, lifting us higher until it stopped at the top. As we watched, the lights of the vendors and the other rides winked out one by one. Soon the only glow left was the Ferris wheel, and it was suddenly very quiet.
Shayne leaned back and regarded me with that crooked grin. “Peaceful, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is.” I waved my hand in an arc, indicating the grounds. “So how long have you done this?”
“Not long, just this summer. I spent six years in the Air Force and needed something different when I got out.” Seeing that I was waiting for more, she teased, “Haven’t you ever wanted to run off and join the circus?”
“There have certainly been times I would have liked to, but who really does that?”
“I did,” she said simply. “What about you? Born and raised here, I take it?”
“My whole life. Pretty boring, huh?”
“Allison, I wouldn’t say anything I’ve seen about you so far is boring,” Shayne said, bumping my shoulder.
“Then you haven’t seen a
nything yet.” I suddenly shivered. The air was much cooler now, in stark contrast to the earlier heat.
Shayne noticed and asked, “Cold?”
When I nodded, she turned sideways to lean back against the end of the compartment. Bending her right leg, she placed her boot flat on the wide seat and motioned me over. I hesitated only a moment before I scooted in her direction. Reaching around me, she settled me into the space between her legs, my back resting against her chest. I pulled my knees up and she swung her left leg onto the seat, enclosing me in the shelter of her body. The fabric of her jeans chafed my bare legs in a not unpleasant way as she rocked us back and forth a little.
“Better?”
I could feel her breath ruffle my hair. Since I didn’t know what to do with my hands, I just rested them on top of hers.
“Is this okay?” Shayne asked, her voice low.
I was having trouble speaking since my mouth had gone dry.
She tipped me a little to one side and looked down into my face. “Allison, is this okay?”
She was so close I could have counted the dark lashes that framed her eyes. “Okay,” was all I managed to say.
She bent her head slowly, giving me every opportunity to pull away. I kept my eyes open until the second I felt her kiss. At least I thought she kissed me. The contact was so fleeting I wasn’t certain until I felt the softness return.
Again and again, Shayne’s lips brushed over mine, never lingering long enough to satisfy. She seemed in no hurry, content to restrict her exploration to this teasing contact. Warmth spread through my body as desire built, making me impatient. Reaching up with one hand, I curled my fingers around the back of her neck and initiated a searing kiss that got her attention. Immediately her arms tightened around me, hands splaying across my rib cage. I was certain she could feel my heart beating wildly as she gently cupped my breast through the thin material of my shirt, her thumb rubbing back and forth across my hard nipple.
Opening my mouth in an involuntary “Oh,” I felt the soft tip of Shayne’s tongue glide along the sensitive skin of my inner lips. I granted her full access and met each stroke of her tongue with mine. Desperately needing air, we broke apart for only seconds before I felt Shayne’s teeth on my neck. Leaning my head back against her shoulder, I closed my eyes again as she trailed a wet path down my neck to my collarbone.
Needing more, I unconsciously began to squeeze my thighs together, rhythmically rocking my hips to relieve some of the pressure building between my legs. Shayne soon joined me in the sensual dance, tilting her hips forward with each of my backward thrusts, one hand moving in circles on my stomach, inching downward and causing my knees to part automatically. A flick of her wrist and my khakis were unsnapped and the zipper lowered, her palm pressing hard against my mound. My body stiffened and I nearly came right then. Sensing this, Shayne stilled, allowing me time to catch my breath.
“Still okay?” Her voice was rough with the effort at restraint.
“Very much okay,” I assured her, covering her hand with mine, encouraging her to continue.
Keeping her lips against my neck, she ran her index finger along the elastic of my bikinis, tracing the edge before slipping inside. I knew I was so wet they had to be soaked. When Shayne discovered that for herself, she groaned and bit down lightly on my neck.
I was already so close and Shayne knew it. Dipping her fingers between my folds, she carefully entered me. I whimpered and wrapped my arms around her upper thighs, dimly wondering if I’d leave bruises there.
After withdrawing briefly, Shayne returned with two fingers, then began a steady rhythm pumping in and out. I didn’t realize I was squeezing her legs in time to her thrusting hand until I felt her quads contracting in time as well. In seconds my stomach muscles clenched and an electric current burned down my spine. Adding a third finger, Shayne stroked deeply one more time while reaching down with her other hand to draw a fingernail across my swollen clit. My whole body rocketed off the seat, taking Shayne with me. Beyond the roaring in my head I could hear her saying my name over and over.
“Allison, beautiful Allison.”
The only sound in the night was that of our breathing when Shayne finally withdrew her fingers. She pulled me tight against her, not speaking. I was reeling with so many emotions, I was afraid to say anything. All I knew was that I didn’t want her to go. Before I could stop, the words fell out of my mouth. “I can’t believe you’re leaving tomorrow.”
I was mortified when I heard my voice. I was sure she’d think I was foolish to even consider asking her to stay. When she didn’t answer right away, I knew I’d blown it. I started to sit up, but she wouldn’t release me. Clearing her throat, she finally spoke.
“No chance of you joining the circus?” she asked doubtfully.
“I could, if I have to,” I answered honestly.
Shayne let out a huge breath, laughing. “Nah, I don’t think I want to share you with the general public. Besides, it’s my turn to be impulsive, and I have a very strong impulse to stay.”
Just then her radio crackled and an annoyed voice came through. “Shayne, are you ever coming down?”
Grabbing it off her belt while hugging me closer, she pressed the button and said, “No, I don’t think I am.”
Time to Wake Up
Cliodhna O’Bannion
I can’t sleep any longer. Though the movie of yesterday plays, I know there is no going back, and my mind is filled with today, this morning. It is an anniversary, a celebration, a festive adventure, a wonderful anticipation.
There you are, still glowing—at your weekly aerobics class, your friends pounce on your radiance. They quiz you. They want all the details; they get but a few. How many years has it been? You still wear this happiness like a slinky teddy; anyone can see there is so much promise and mystery, but only I am allowed to explore it and discover all that you are. Your shy discretion keeps us cocooned, away from prying and prattle, safe in our secret places where no one else even gets to visit.
Ah, our meeting. We are at a backyard cookout. I am late; you plan to leave early. Our intersection begins with chatter about spiders and visits to urgent care centers, moves to our careers, what we’re reading, changes to growing-up tales. You are bold enough to ask for my phone and e-mail. I don’t think twice. You overstay your deadline, preferring to be late to your next potluck in order to spend more time with me. We walk to your car, you lower your cool shades, I see your eyes for the first time, and I am smitten.
An exchange of e-mails, quickly made plans, and we are making out like high-schoolers in public. When dark falls fully, we hear ominous rustling in the brush near the water. We race to my house, and I reach for you and for the clothing that is in our way. I stretch to hold you in place when you declare you are nearing the point of no return and that means you must leave. I know with certainty that I have passed that point. Immediately, my thoughts turn to “next time.”
“Next time” comes; we do, too. I feel shy and awkward, clumsy and inexperienced. The years gone since my last relationship have taken a huge toll. But I begin to find my way, with your indulgence and patience. I have never been so noisy during sex, but with you I take no measure to restrain myself. You use your fingers and hands and eyes and lips and soft murmurings; you inflame me as no one has. Long-lasting kisses, curious tongue, whispering into my ear about what you want to do, what you’re going to do, what I can’t stop you from doing, and I can hardly contain my wanting. My desire grows and grows until I am ready to push your fingers into my pussy myself, to show you what I want, where I want it, when I want it.
It is your deliberate pace that is working its timely charms on me. You test the curve of my neck. Yes, your chin fits nicely and that gives you a good view of my lips as you caress them, barely touching them with your fingertips, as your forearm brushes against my breast, and I can only mutter Oh. It is almost too languid as you talk about my body, demonstrating with a touch. My temperature is rising, along with m
y pussy as I raise my hips to offer a better angle, not such a reach, a hint of my urgency. Finally, you take the plunge and give the length of my pussy lips a long swipe and I cannot help but scream my thanks. Then your hands are everywhere, and your mouth joins them at the spring of my wetness, and you are the only thing that is keeping me anchored on the bed. I want, I want, I want, and I want.
There are no words simple enough to say through my heaving breath, but you hear anyway and push two, no, three fingers into me and twist your arm as I shout. Twist and shout. I want to squirm away. I cannot take all this pleasure. I’m not going anywhere. You see to that with your leg covering mine, your mouth covering my clit, your hands holding me down so you can take your pleasure.
This pleasure, this desire, this fulfillment goes on forever and it can’t get any better until you begin moving your fingers in and out while you rub my inner lips and zero in on the hood of my clit with your tongue. That sturdy tip, which carries all those words of love, bounces me into another realm. It is all clit and tongue, pussy and fingers, humming and screaming.
I don’t lose control; I give it over to you, willingly, gladly. I want you to drive me over the edge. I need you to think for both of us. One thought enters my brain: How do I keep this going? Another thought: I can’t take much more. I shake and shake as your tongue swirls and curls and finds and takes so much pleasure that I am sure I will faint. Is that me? Can that be my voice? I am saying nothing intelligible and that says it all. I am yours. You can take me anytime. And when I pray, I pray that you will…take me…now…later…in between. Fast and furiously without a thought, pushing me against the wall and making my knees buckle; pushing me down on the bed and sucking furiously; taking me from behind so thoroughly that I feel as if I’m in a coma; slowly, lovingly caressing every nerve ending; begging me to sit on your face; twisting so we can both use our tongues for their greatest, highest purpose. It’s your choice.
Stolen Moments Page 24