He crawled out from under his computer desk after attaching the keyboard to the cpu unit. Once again he’d forgotten, stretched out, catching his toe in the wires below, and tugged the cable out. He sighed, dismayed at yet another klutzy episode. Earlier today his hot dog had leaked ketchup down the front of his white shirt, his red tie, and the right inner thigh of his pants. So much for eating in the park.
It was all that woman’s fault, of course. She’d rolled past him in her wheelchair, her head turned away. She’d been laughing at the antics of a large dog running and leaping at a frisbee thrown by a few college kids. Her laugh mesmerized him, jolted him. He had paused, his loaded hotdog forgotten halfway to his mouth as she moved past, not even noticing him. He hadn’t seen the sudden bleeding of the ketchup out the back of the wrapper, so caught up was he in the way the sunlight danced over her tresses, the tightness of the tee-shirt over her breasts. She was stacked. And her laugh was like pure sex.
For weeks she had held his attention. He would watch for her in the park each lunchtime. When the snow had piled up, he’d wondered if she was cooped up somewhere, unable to go out.
Her hair was dark with a bit of a wave to it, and her eyes were brilliant, sparkling blue. Her laugh…it sent an electric current right to his crotch.
Embarrassing to be so turned on by a laugh at his age. And perhaps if he hadn’t been picturing her stretched across his lap as he’d watched the spanking scene from his favorite porn site, hadn’t shifted, stretching out his long legs, he’d not have disconnected his keyboard. Again.
Saturday dawned full of promise. The storm that had threatened to bludgeon the area had gone far south, leaving the sky cloudless and blue. He decided to walk, doing his errands on foot to enjoy the warmth of the day. Shoving his dirty clothing into a backpack he set off for the laundromat. From there he went to the office supply store to purchase an extension cord for his keyboard. No more disconnects while fantasizing about pulling that girl onto his lap and stroking his hands over her bottom.
He wondered, standing there holding the cord in the middle of the store, if she was paralyzed. Would she even feel a spanking? Would she feel sex? Like sex? Want sex? Want him?
“May I help you sir?” The kid looked like he was twelve, standing there, looking at him like he was some middle-aged dork. Well, he was a middle-aged dork. Tallish, hair thinning a bit on top, and carrying a few…okay a bit more than a “few”…pounds, he figured he was the dictionary pictoral on what a dork looked like. Too much time in front of the computer, not enough time playing football, not these days.
“No…I’m good. Thanks.” Time to focus on the now. He filed away the erotic thoughts of the girl he sometimes thought of as “his” for later, when he was watching that video on his computer. He made his way, slightly pink cheeked, to the front register. He only knocked over one small display of pens, to his credit. He really was a dork, sadly. He shook his head as he escaped from the store, then made his way to the bank. There he managed to accidentally tug one of those chain pens off the table it had been adhered to, dropped the change the teller handed him, and bonked his elbow on the stupid shelf that ran around the front of the teller windows. Thankfully, Claire had known him for years, and merely wished him a safe day, while trying hard to not laugh at him.
He tripped on the metal strip at the edge of the door of the market, dropped the package of provolone from the deli, and discovered his pen had sprung a leak – in his pocket – at the front register. He briefly considered going home and pulling the covers over his head.
Halfway down the block he remembered that he was supposed to bring something to the play party tonight. Unlike those doms of fantasy stuff, his klutz gene did not seem to disappear during play time. He just seemed to not be bothered by it as much then. His inner Dom was a lot more confident than his geeky day-to-day self, he supposed, dabbing at the ink stain on his shirt with a napkin he’d found in his jacket pocket. His alter ego could be “under-Dom” – kind of like Underdog, with a D/s twist.
He headed into the new bake shop, deciding to pick up some cupcakes. Sure it as a BD/sm event…but even sadists liked cupcakes! There were some in the window that caught his eye, half white-half chocolate, neatly swirled together. That sure described his life, and likely the life of many of the folks who came out in the darkness to play dirty games with one another.
The bell over the door tinkled, and he realized that although the shop had been here at least 6 months, he had not ever stopped in before. A pleasant woman with neatly feathered white hair came through a door behind the counter. Heavenly scents followed her, circling around his head.
“Wow!” He said, tilting his head back and inhaling deeply. “Whatever that is, it smells…fantastic.”
“Our famous cinnamon swirl bread. Just about done, too. Welcome to Heavenly Eats. Your first time?”
“Great name! I was just thinking that the scent from your kitchens were divine! Yes, my first time here…and I guarantee it won’t be my last! I’m here to get some cupcakes for a …” he stopped himself in time. “…gathering tonight. I saw the vanilla chocolate ones…they looked perfect!”
“Oh, our Swirled Choco-nilla’s are very popular,” she said. “Here.” She offered him one. He hesitated…”this will, if you pardon the pun, eat into your profit margin…”
She threw back her head and laughed. It was a wonderful laugh.
“Oh my, if it hooks you into coming back? We’ll write it off as advertising expense.” Still hooting with laughter, she began assembling a box.
“mfmmmmmohmmm” He stopped trying to talk, intent on catching the crumbs. A giant gob of icing fell, but he caught it, for once, and gobbled it down.
“That was the best cupcake I’ve ever had. I’ll take 3 dozen.”
She smiled as she began to box up the treats.
“See? Definitely worth the sacrifice. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man enjoy one of our cupcakes so much.”
Stoked on sugar, he carefully took his purchases home, glancing over towards the park. Nope. She wasn’t there. He wasn’t certain what her schedule would be with spring coming on. With a sigh, he continued home.