Heat Wave
An Adult Short Story
by
E. M. Flemming
Copyright © 2013 E.M. Flemming
All rights are reserved.
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Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Thank You
1
The sweltering New York City summer heat could get to you, if you let it. The hundred-plus degree heat wave could make people do things they normally wouldn’t do. Trust me, I’m speaking from experience. But, this wasn’t just any old heat wave. It was a hot and sticky heat wave – the kind that only exists in places that get as humid as New York City does. It was the kind of heat wave that left you feeling hot and bothered – like you just got done with an unfinished steamy session that ended in a tumble of flesh and hair under the sheets. And of course, with my luck, the cabby I was in didn’t have any air conditioning, which made the slow crawl through bumper-to-bumper traffic on Fifth Avenue that much worse.
“I should have just walked,” I thought to myself. But looking around at the people walking the streets, didn’t seem that much more appealing to me. At least I was under the cover of a taxi. I looked at my phone to check the temperature – 108 degrees. The black vinyl sticky backseat of the taxi wasn’t making matters any better, but I tried to shrug it off. I didn’t know how much longer I could handle the heat so I thought about the beach for a moment, and how nice it would have been to be lying on a beach in a cool breeze. I thought about my long brown hair tussling in the wind. That would have been really nice right about then.
The thought of lying on a beach got me stirring. But it wasn’t just the thought of any old beach, or lying there on my own. I thought about how nice it would have been to be lying on a beach with Robert Dorning. I couldn’t get that man out of my mind. I had to shift around in the cabby just thinking of him, cramping my bare legs as I bit my lips for a moment. Robert Dorning. Just the mere thought of him made my legs quiver. But he was off limits for me. I wasn’t allowed to touch him. That is, I wasn’t allowed to touch him if his wife – my so-called best friend, Amy – had anything to do with it.
The cabby honked, jarring me back into the present moment. It was still stop-and-go on the street, and I wasn’t getting anywhere. I couldn’t decide if I should’ve gotten out and just walked the seven giant blocks in the sweltering heat, or not. And as if the honking was going to help, the cabby let go another rip of the horn. “God, this heat,” I said to the driver. I fanned myself with a newspaper that had been left lying around in the taxicab.
The cab driver undressed me through the rearview mirror with his little beady eyes. I shouldn’t have said anything. I caught his glare a few times, and brushed it off. The beads of sweat were starting to form around my collarbone.
Robert Dorning.
The slow crawl continued, and I reeled in thought. If this were just any old day, the wait in traffic wouldn’t have been so bad. I didn’t mind the break from being stuck in front of a computer, pounding away at the keys, even if it was sweltering hot outside. No, this wasn’t just any old day. This was the day I was going to have lunch with Robert Dorning. I thought about him again, and closed my eyes just to picture him standing in front of me there. Undressing him. Yes, I know, I wasn’t supposed to think like that, considering his wife was my best friend, but I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t help those thoughts from entering my mind. I squeezed my legs together again and shut my eyes for a moment.
Another honk.
I opened my eyes to see the cabby peering at me again with those beady little eyes. His messy dark hair looking disheveled, as if he hadn’t washed it in days. I did a small dry heave as I lowered my head, hoping he would stop looking. But the traffic wasn’t moving. Fifth Avenue was crowded with clusters of yellow – taxis were trying to maneuver from lane to lane, but they weren’t getting anywhere. What’s the point of trying to switch lanes in traffic that’s stopped? I just couldn’t understand it.
“Do you know what the hold up is?” I asked the cabby, while trying to look up and over to both sides to see if I could catch a glimpse of what was holding us up. I couldn’t see anything.
“I think it’s some construction, or maybe an accident,” he said in a very thick Indian accent.
“It’s just moving really slow,” I said to him. How was I stuck in one of the only taxicabs in New York City with no air conditioning? My luck.
“I know. I’m very sorry miss.” He wasn’t sorry. He was enjoying the time, carelessly undressing me every chance he could get.
More honks.
The meter was climbing and we weren’t getting anywhere. My mind started to wander again. All I could think about was the heated embrace that hopefully awaited me at my destination. The thought of our hot hard bodies pressed up against one another sent me into another tailspin. The sweat was literally starting to drip off of me.
“I can’t sit in here anymore. I’m going to just get out here,” I said to the cabby. I could see the dismay on his face as I got out. I could see him continuing to eye me, hoping to catch a glimpse of what was under the red floral skirt that hung loosely off my hips. “Thank you,” I said as I climbed out.
It felt good to be out of that cab, and to be walking again. If nothing else, the act of walking created a bit of a breeze, even if that breeze was a hot one. It would have been the typical hot summer heat wave day, if it weren’t for the fact that I was meeting him for lunch. Robert Dorning. My legs quivered again while thinking about it, and the oversized black sunglasses I had on, hid me from the creepy men staring at me as I quickened my pace to the meeting.
Robert Dorning.
I still couldn’t stop thinking of him. With each click of my high heels, I was one step closer to being near him.
But then what?
Did I actually have the guts to go through with it? Did I actually have the nerve to screw over my best friend? The summer heat was definitely getting to me, and I was picturing myself doing things that only a person in heat would do. No pun intended. But I must say that, if you saw Robert Dorning yourself, you might not be able to resist either.
Okay, picture this – six-foot tall, dark-skinned, jet-black hair, light crystal blue eyes, sporting the body of a God. And, he’s probably one of the smartest and most talented people that I’ve ever met. I guess I’ve always been a little bit jealous of Amy. I mean, I’ve dealt with so much in my past, and mopping up the aftermath of a messy divorce can definitely help to wither you away.
It was clear that I had made the right decision to get out of the taxi, because I was already three blocks down the street, and the traffic was still at a standstill. I would have been stuck back there forever had I not gotten out. But something must have been going on. Traffic like that wasn’t uncommon, even for New York City during rush hour. But after I had walked another half block, I saw it. Construction. The loud drilling and banging made my head pound, but it also had blocked off the street temporarily to allow a cran
e to do some heavy lifting. Good thing I walked.
I was only a few blocks from the hotel when the catcalls started. I was used to it by now, but it does get to wear on you. I mean, a woman does like to feel beautiful, but don’t men get embarrassed sometimes? Some men certainly take it to a whole other level. “Damn, you’re fine,” said one of the men sporting an orange reflective vest and hardhat. He just stood there, eyes following me the entire time, as I walked by. Another called out from behind the crane, “Wow, what I would do for a piece of that.” I guess it made me smile a bit.
I suppose I wasn’t too surprised. That day I was wearing some pretty revealing clothing. I needed to do some heavy impressing, if my mission was going to succeed.
Robert Dorning.
God, I couldn’t get him out of my mind. Only four more blocks to go, I thought – only four more blocks until I’m just inches away from him. He was definitely going to be mine. I was sure of it.
2
The hotel on Fifth Avenue was a much-needed break from the sweltering heat. Although, my libido didn’t feel relaxed, the cool, climatized lobby was a nice change of pace from the outdoors. I sank into a carefully appointed couch in the upper lobby area of the posh hotel, while I waited for Robert Dorning. I was sitting adjacent to a couple that appeared to be there for some type of business meeting. I’ve always been so intrigued by watching the body language between a man and woman, so I sat there and eyed them through my dark glasses for a few minutes.
Throughout my years, I used my understanding of psychology to have my way with men. I have a degree in behavioral psychology and have always immersed myself in the pursuit to understanding why people do the things that they do. So, you can only imagine the fun my mind can have at times in some of the most unlikeliest situations. I guess you could call me an opportunist, because I use my knowledge of behavior to my advantage. I know just how to manipulate people.
So, as I sat there watching the interaction of the man and the woman seated near me, a few things became apparent to me. One thing that was important was their proximity, or how far away they were seated from one another. There’s actually a science attributed to attraction and just how far, or close, you need to be to a man in order to peak his interest. Most men talk about gaming women, which I find funny, because most of them don’t even have a chance when they try. Sure, some of their tactics may work, some of the time, but what I find more intriguing is, just how women can game men. Now, I’m not talking about gaming them in a vindictive way. No, I’m just talking about gaming them just to get what you want. And, at that moment, I wanted Robert Dorning with every fiber of my body.
The mere mention of Robert Dorning sent another shiver up and down my spine, and sent the Goosebumps ablaze all over my bare legs and arms. Well, anyways, this man and woman that were seated next to me had an interesting chemistry going on. From the way they were seated close to one another, you could tell there was some sort of attraction there. The man was say in his mid to late forties, and the woman probably pushing about thirty. He had on a wedding band, she didn’t. And as I watched them, it was intriguing to me the way the two of them acted.
He had on this gray pinstripe suit, probably from a fancy place like Brooks Brothers, and she had on a professional suit dress. I noticed a couple of things about this pair. First off, the man had his suit jacket off, and was showing off his dazzling gold-colored cufflinks. To me, this indicated that he was somewhat comfortable with the girl. The power suit shows the authority, while the suit jacket off gives off a little bit more of his casual side. He clearly wanted her to feel relaxed. Next, they were seated about a foot apart from one another on the couch next to me.
I don’t know what it is about watching people, but it’s something I love to do. I don’t think you can really call it a fetish, but more so that it’s just intriguing to me. It’s intriguing to me because I want to know and understand people’s most animalistic impulses. What gets a man to want you, even when he has a “perfect” woman to call his own? I ask myself that question all the time, but rarely do I act out on my inner most desires. But today was different.
As I sat there on the couch adjacent to the little business meeting going on next to me, I crossed my legs, which were now covered in Goosebumps, then crossed them again. As I did this, I could notice the man shift his attention from the barely thirty-old girl next to him, and look at me. Although I might sit here and tell you that this was unintentional, I would be lying. That was when I first got his attention. But I didn’t want to really interrupt what was going on so I pulled out my phone and pretended to not pay attention to them any longer. Once he could see I was completely disinterested in his not so inadvertent stares, he continued working on his prey. I call her prey because I could just sense it in a man when he’s willing to bend a few rules, or break a couple of laws, just to get a girl. To me, it was obvious.
The young woman was either an employee, or looking to gain the man’s business. You could see that she was enamored and impressed with him. She blushed multiple times, and it was clear that she was allowing herself to fall into his clutches. But, she was going about it all wrong. If she was an employee, or someone looking to gain the man’s business, and she wanted to sleep with him, she was doing it all wrong. First off, she was not in charge, he was. She was allowing him to have the upper hand. From her posture, to her body language, and to the words that were coming out of her mouth, it was all wrong. And, you could see him beginning to lose interest. He was losing interest overall, meaning, even if he slept with the woman in the next hour, her chances of continuing on as his employee, or gaining his business were slim to none. Sorry, I’m just being honest here.
They were initially seated about a foot apart from one another on the couch, which was a three-person couch. She was holding some papers, which he took from her to carefully examine, but that she allowed him to take from her. She certainly not was not in charge. She was making it too easy, and men want a challenge, trust me on this. She was making everything too easy on him, and whoever this girl was, she was clearly very “green.” If I could have had a one-on-one conversation with the girl, I would have set her straight, but I couldn’t. And just as that thought crossed my mind, he got up and excused himself to go to the restroom. Perfect, I thought.
“Hey,” I said to her. She looked somewhat startled. Poor girl.
“Hi?” she said in a very soft, yet high-pitched voice.
“You’re really going about this all wrong. Is that your boss?”
“No,” she said, “it’s a client we’re courting. I work for a PR firm.” She went to hand me her card but I interrupted her. I didn’t want the poor girl’s business card.
“Look, do you want to snag the guy, and get the business? Because, the way I see it, you’re about to blow both.”
She turned bright red. “Excuse me?” She didn’t sound the bit intimidating.
“Look, I’ve been sitting here, listening to your conversation, and you’re doing it all wrong.”
“How do you even know what I’m doing? You’re pretty rude.” She went to try to ignore me, but I knew she wanted to hear what I had to say.
“I’m not trying to be rude. I just have some, let’s just say, experience with this kind of thing.” She stared at me like a deer in headlights. “I know he’s an attractive guy, and I know you probably are intrigued with the way he’s flirting with you, but do you want the business, or do you want the guy?”
“The business,” she said in a very hesitant manner.
“Okay, you want both, it’s pretty obvious.”
“He’s married,” she said.
“Really?” I asked rhetorically. “I see the way you’re looking and flirting with him. I’m not here to judge, I just want to steer you in the right direction.” I had completely caught the girl off guard, but she was finally starting to listen. “I want you to try to do this. First of all, you’re far too close to him. Your body language is screaming inferiority to him. I k
now that as a woman, you like a man to be overpowering, but you can’t do that at first. You have to play the attraction game.”
“The attraction game?” She sounded like she had no idea what I was talking about. I think she was just green to life in general.
“Yes. Have you ever heard of the propinquity effect?”
She sat silent for a moment. “No,” she said, “why, what does that mean? What does it have to do with anything?”
“Okay, from sitting here listening to you guys, it’s clear that whatever deal you’re trying to strike up, is not going to happen overnight.”
“Well, yes, this is only our second meeting.”
“Okay, well, then that means you’re doing a lot more wrong. You’re being far too submissive to him right off the bat. The propinquity effect is just some fancy psychology term for how near you are to a person, and how often you interact. When someone has a high propinquity to you that means that you have a lot in common, or you run into each other often. What this also means is that when you have a high propinquity, you are more likely to get the guy.”
“So… what are you saying exactly?”
“What I’m saying is that you need multiple interactions with him. Since this is only your second interaction, you need to come up with something that shows that you are busy, but still interested. You have to find a way to tease him enough, but then put him off.”
Heat Wave - Erotika Short Stories for Women (Adult Short Stories for Women Series) Page 1
