Open your door. 

Standard

The unexpected “open your door” phone call is always a pleasure, especially when the temperature has peaked about 92 degrees today and the windows are open. The warm breezes enters the apartment, gently playing in my freshly washed hair. Afternoons like this make monthly budgeting a pretty peaceful event. Jeans laid out on top of the bed, the scent of crushed coconut moisturizer softly lightens the atmosphere as bare thighs rub together. The liberation of open windows, the warm breeze and bright yellow sheer panties does something to a young woman such as myself. TV background noise as crunching numbers begin to swim in front of me taunting me to panic and yell defeat. But the way sun is shining and how sweet the weather is, numbers are just that: numbers. Running my feet over this amazing carpet and feeding my face with zaxbys chicken finger plate, I’m feeling invincible and full of ideas on how to manage these next couple of months. I got so caught up in the motions that the warmth took hold of my body and began to trigger moisture. The phone rings and all you say is “open the door.” The element of surprise is always enticing in this situation. It must be the beginning of a lustful summer because the way your hands smoothed down the arch of my back and found the softness of skin was inviting in every way imaginable. Panties dropped easily and whispered words were carried off by the breeze. How open and delightful I became as parts of you became parts of me this afternoon in the warmth of my apartment. I tilted my head back and grabbed your hands as the headboard rhythmically tapped the wall, all I could think about was “damn I’m glad I answered the phone”

Written December 14,2015 

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