Trying for a new angle

Here is a story I am working on. It definitely does not fall into the same category as my other Pr0n stuff. What do ya'll think?


Like most days, after work I went to a favored haunt. It was an odd shop that mixed a coffee house with antiques and old books. The usual crowd was generally not my type and considerably younger than me. They were the alternative/earthy types that frequent eclectic places like this. Which I suppose should make me wonder why a late twenties copier repair man like me went here nearly every day.

Well, a big part were the books. I love old books, and the shop had new ones come in all the time. So I liked to come in and scoop them up before someone else did. I also enjoyed the atmosphere. So laid back and warm. Big overstuffed seats and such a random collection of music.

And, to be honest, Melissa was a factor in my regular visits. Melissa being the owner. Over the months, I had grown a fairly hefty crush on her. I felt a connection to her. When she wasn't busy at the counter, she would come sit and chat with me. We had conversations about politics, religion, science, psychology...anything you could think of. It was impossible for me to not become enamoured with her. I met lots of women during my job. Even took a few out. But conversations with them were focused around their daily routine. Things that happened to them. Nothing wrong with that, but it was nice to talk to someone who also talked about things that she thought about or that happened to the world not just herself.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't also find her physically attractive. She had a mix of 'girl next door' and 'naughty librarian' going on. I am sure she caught me looking at her when she twirled or braided her long straight brown hair.

But I didn't have the courage to ask her out. Don't ask me why. As I said before, I didn't have trouble asking out the various women I met during the course of my job. But I think Melissa intimidated me because rejection from her would actually mean something. I didn't want to risk losing her as the friend and daily conversationalist she had become. Lucky for me, she was less worried about that happening.

Today she caught me watching her from behind my book as she finished up with a customer. But unlike most times she caught me, where she would just smile at me slightly, this time she immediately walked over to my chair and sat purposefully on the big cushiony arm.

"So, are you ever going to ask me out?" She asked. Her voice had a tone of mock annoyance.

"Um...yes?" I answered.

"When? I think I have been more than patient." She said, crossing her arms over her chest and locking them down purposefully to drive home the point that she was 'upset' with me.

"I was waiting for just the right moment." She eyed me from behind her wire rimmed glasses, asking 'what moment would that be' without having to verbalize it.

"Right after I rescued you from a burning building. When; in awe of my heroics and display of masculinity, you would be unable to deny my affections. Later we would appear on the cover of magazines as the happy couple brought together by the tragedy and horror that is arson."

"Well, buster, unless that scheme also entails an elaborate plan for STARTING a fire from which to rescue me, it doesn't count. As a matter of fact, I don't think there is such a plan. You just don't like me." She was smiling, having enjoyed my silly story. I decided to answer her little fishing attempt with honesty.

"You're kidding right? You usually only get new, and by new I mean old but new to the store, books on Tuesday. But I'm here everyday, except Monday, because you are off. And I don't even like coffee."

"Yeah, I know. Your cup is always full when you throw it away." She grinned. "So, we've established that you have the hots for me. And that you can pull stories about arson right out of your ass. So what does that leave us?"

"Cowardice?" I asked. She seemed to mull this over.

"I think I can date a coward. Pick me up when the store closes tonight. Dinner's on you for making me wait this long."

"Yes milady. I shall bring the car around promptly at eight." I said in my best posh British accent.

"Good. And change out of the white shirt and tie. I want to see how you dress when you aren't getting off of work." She smiled at me, and walked off behind the counter.

"Oh, and Steve" she called to me as I headed to the door. "A fire? Really?"

"Yup. Twelve people would have died. But the post pyrotechnic coitus would have been awesome."

I quickly left and went home to shower and change. I was pretty proud at how steady I was during our exchange. But the next two hours were a torture of anticipation and nerves. The time finally came, and I pulled up to the shop as the clock struck eight. I could see Melissa inside as the lights went out and shortly after she was walking towards me with a bounce in her step.

As we drove to dinner, there was palpable tension in the air. Both of us seemed a little guarded, which was new for us. It wasn't until our appetizers came that we really flowed back into our usual ease with each other.

Mind you, things were still different, but in a good way. Our conversation had far more flirting than normal. And Melissa's normally cool demeanor cracked several times as she would blush or giggle. It was a treat to finally see the little girl in her.

I also felt more comfortable looking at her in a romantic way. How her delicate fingers idly played with her soft brown hair. The way her soulful brown eyes pierced me as I talked. Her full pink lips trying to hold back smiles so that she could try and keep her usual aloofness.

At one point she moved her hand to mine on the table and gently grabbed it. It was strange to have such a simple thing feel so good. I could tell she liked it too, since she blushed slightly as I caressed her fingers with my thumb. Her skin was soft and creamy. My mind wandered to the thought of what other parts of her might feel like.

We stayed at the restaurant until the asked us to leave so they could close. The walk back to the car was slow, delaying the end of the night. The drive back was equally slow and the tension had returned. Melissa was uncharacteristically silent. So was I, I suppose. She fidgeted and played with her hair more than usual, keeping her eyes ahead.

I walked her to her apartment door, where we stood in silence, nervously waiting for the other to say goodnight. But doing so would end our date, and I certainly wasn't going to do that. Melissa's nervous face suddenly changed, as though she had made up her mind about something.

"So, you want to come in for coffee?" She asked. I was surprised at how cliche she was being. It proved how nervous she was.

"I thought we established earlier than I don't like coffee."

"Then how about coming in to make out and possibly have sex?" She quipped back with a snarky grin.

"On the first date? Aren't we the little slut?" Yeah, I know you should never call a woman that. But in our months as friends we had said worse to each other in jest.

"First off, this isn't really a first date. We've done all the typical first date getting to know each other months ago. So this is more like our...fourth date. Second, if you don't watch your mouth you may not get to find out how slutty I really am." As she said this, she posed; tilting her full hips and then smacking her well rounded bottom.

We both laughed. This was a big reason I was so attracted to her. That we could be so open, and not be hung up with our conversations and teasing.

"OK, I agree that this isn't like our first date. But there is a first I think we need to get out of the way before I come in for 'coffee'." She looked at me expectantly.

I glided to her, reached out and pulled her to me gently. With one hand I tilted her head up as I lowered my head and softly pushed our lips together. Those lips I had been admiring all night felt heavenly against mine as we kissed. Her arms moved to my shoulders, mine to her waist; drawing each other in tighter to match our kiss.

I let my tongue peek past my lips, which mets hers doing the same shy exploration. Slowly at first, they caressed each other, but quickly moving to a more passionate exchange.