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The sun beat down on her like an interrogation spotlight. August in St. Louis is like standing at the gates of hell, Anna thought to herself, wondering again if she should consider moving somewhere with a more temperate climate. But her family was here, and her friends, and her job… The thought of starting over again somewhere else, while tempting, just didn’t seem worth it right now. So she kept walking, cursing the cars lined up at all the meters around the courthouse. Jury duty in the city sucked. There was no other way to put it. While they nicely paid for parking, it was in a garage ten blocks from the courthouse, and unless you were called in spring or late fall, when the weather was cool, the trek was miserable.

The last time she had jury duty had been December, 18 months ago. Fortunately, Anna hadn’t been selected to serve on a trial – it had been a close call, but she managed to avoid it, and only waste the two days of jury selection. She’d heard that trial had lasted the full week. But all she wanted to do right now was get through today and tomorrow. Thursday and Friday. Then it would be Saturday, and the Charity Gala. While not normally her cup of tea, her boss had asked her if she would like to go – the firm had purchased a table, and now they needed bodies to fill it. It wasn’t like she had anything else going on, after all. Her divorce was final (finally!) and she was settled into her new house. The unpacking was finished, she’d painted the dining room, and it was too damn hot to start a garden. So she had bought a dress she’d found on a clearance rack at Famous Barr and made an appointment to have her hair and nails done Saturday afternoon.

***

As Anna sat in the jury room, she leafed through a magazine while studying the other prospective jurors who gathered. This was the interesting part of jury duty, imagining what kinds of lives they had put on hold to come here today. She studied the handsome black man, his hair just beginning to grey at his temples, working feverishly at his laptop in between answering his cell phone and talking animatedly. She guessed he was in upper management at a mid-size company, hoping to close a deal before the end of the week. The unkempt older woman in mismatched sweats and ratty sneakers appeared unemployed, possibly on disability, and the lines in her face suggested she had been unhappy for a long time. Two rows behind her sat a young woman in her early twenties, her long blonde hair perfectly smooth, watching with disdain as the grungy man next to her calmly spit shells from sunflower seeds into a paper cup.

She wondered if this young woman had left a young man in bed, tangled in the sheets, the window A/C unit humming. Was she wild in bed? Demanding? Adventurous? Or did she do her best to please him, sacrificing her own pleasure to keep him around? These were the other kinds of things Anna wondered about some people she observed.

Take, for example, the young black man seated three rows in front of her and slightly to the right. Anna had a good view of his profile, and the way he slouched in his seat suggested he was very comfortable with his body. He didn’t care what others thought of him. His hand tapped out the beat pumping into his headphones, and he had good rhythm, which brought to mind other interesting uses for rhythm. He wore a black T-shirt that stretched invitingly across his broad shoulders, and she could tell from the slight bulges that he worked out with some regularity. His arms were nicely defined, and she could imagine him supporting himself on his arms above her naked and supine body, showing her the rhythm in his hips.

By late morning, she was horny and tired of fantasizing. She needed a little relief, but privacy was a bit of an issue. And what if she were in the throes of orgasm when her number was called? On the other hand, she’d be much better able to concentrate once she got the horny out of her system. It had been so long since she’d had a man she couldn’t even admit the length of time to herself. Sure, she always had Bob, the battery operated boyfriend, but there were times he was a really poor substitute for a flesh and blood cock pumping in and out of her, and Bob didn’t coat her breasts with cum and tell her to suck him clean when he was done. Bob didn’t tell her to sit on him and fuck herself while he watched football. No, that was what her ex did, and he was gone now.

So what was a horny girl to do?

Anna’s thoughts were interrupted by the call of juror numbers, and she listened, wondering if perhaps she should yell BINGO if her number was called. 104, 257, 319, 390, 393… Yep, that was her, Juror number 393. She gathered up her things and followed the other chosen jurors to the assembly area, her solo tryst put on hold for the time being.

***

Jury questioning lasted the better part of the afternoon, and again she narrowly escaped being selected. Had they eliminated one more prospective juror, Anna would have been next in line, and it turned out to be a rather violent rape case she remembered hearing about several years ago. Amazing how long it took sometimes for these things to come çubuk escort to trial. In all honesty, however, she wasn’t sure she could have been an impartial juror in this instance, so it was probably best she hadn’t been chosen.

But at least the lawyer for the prosecution was easy on the eyes. He wasn’t tall, but he carried himself like he was the most important person in the room. He introduced himself as Matthew Golden, which seemed ironic, given that his hair was jet black and his skin had a somewhat olive tone. But Matthew Golden was a looker, and she was pretty sure he could captivate a jury with that wide smile and eyes that whispered “trust me.” His wedding ring, however, was not lost on her, and she had spent the rest of the afternoon fantasizing about what he might be like in bed, and what his wife looked like, and whether or not he had ever brought her up here after hours to fuck her on the witness stand.

By the time the rest of the panel was dismissed, it was nearing five o’clock, and downtown traffic was already a nightmare. Anna knew of a little bar a few blocks away called The Bench, and it was a regular hangout for lawyers after court ended for the day. A nice cold one was definitely called for, because she wasn’t willing to sit in traffic in the sweltering heat. And it wasn’t like she had anyone to go home to anyway. Maybe she’d find a nice guy who’d be willing to buy her a drink, tell her a few war stories, make her forget temporarily that she had sworn off men and relationships…

***

Three beers and four lawyers later, Anna had had enough of The Bench. The few lawyers who looked interesting were not interested in talking to a single woman alone at the bar. The ones who did approach her were sleazy at best. One guy was actually an ambulance chaser, and freely admitted it. She closed her tab and headed for the door, just as Matthew Golden was walking in. Although it was tempting, she resisted the impulse to turn around and offer to buy him a drink. Anna just wasn’t quite ready to pursue a married man, regardless of how sexy he might appear. Married men brought all sorts of complications to bed, and she just wasn’t willing to open up that can of worms just yet. Over the course of her life, she had only met a handful of me she’d be willing – and eager – to bed, wedding ring be damned. Tonight, the only person she wanted to bed was herself.

***

By Saturday evening, the heat had reached a feverish peak. Thunderheads were building up in the west, and the air was thick with moisture. Severe storms were expected by morning. Anna dressed slowly, the air conditioning on full blast. She was thankful the stylist had put her hair up, allowing tendrils to escape and curl in the humidity.

First came silky red panties, a garter belt, and matching strapless bra, followed by sheer thigh-high stockings. Next, she slithered into a fitted red dress that skimmed her hips and ended just above her knees, and slipped the spaghetti straps over her bare shoulders. A pair of red heels completed the look. She kept her jewelry simple: a thin gold chain around her neck and a pair of ruby earrings. Simple, but elegant. Trite, but right. If Anna had to fill space at the table, she wanted to fill it with class.

***

The Gala was in the Starlight room of a historic hotel in midtown, named for the glass ceiling that revealed a velvet sky studded with stars on a clear night. Tonight was one of those clear, hot nights, with a warm breeze that caressed the nape of her neck with its ghostly fingers.

When she walked into the Starlight room, heads turned. She was a beautiful woman, and she was alone. Wives immediately became uneasy, perhaps subconsciously signaled by the crimson of her dress. Red, the color of passion…danger…fire…harlots… She was a walking time bomb, and she reveled in the power it gave her. It didn’t matter if she wasn’t planning to use this power for anything. Just knowing the potential was enough.

Between appetizers and dinner was dancing, and she wasn’t lacking partners. Her head was spinning from the champagne and lack of substantial food and twirling around the floor with one man after the next. When the announcement finally came that dinner was served, she was escorted to her table by a tall, broad-shouldered man who looked vaguely familiar.

“It’s been a pleasure, Anna,” he winked at her as he pulled out her chair.

“Thank you, um…”

“Will.” His smile lit a fire in her belly, and she couldn’t help but smile back. There was something about him…

“Will,” she repeated.

“Save the last dance for me, Anna.” And with that, he was gone.

During dinner, the talk around her turned to business, but she tuned it out and wondered why this Will looked so familiar. He reminded her of someone she had known long ago, but she was certain it was only a coincidence. But how had he known her name?

As soon as dessert was finished, she excused herself and headed to the ladies room. A fresh coat of lipstick and a little powder on her nose, and she’d be ready to dance the rest of the night away. As she carefully demetevler escort outlined her lips, two women in stalls began discussing men they’d met. She ignored them until she heard one say “Spencer Ramsey.”

“I know, can you believe he’s here?”

“Sure, I mean, he dumped Lily Hampstead last Tuesday, and you know he doesn’t waste any time.”

“But don’t you think it’s a little crass of him to show up here, of all places?”

“Why? Because the last time he was here, Maureen caught him in the cloakroom with someone from the hotel staff?”

Anna caught her breath. It couldn’t be. But how many Spencer Ramseys could there be in St. Louis? She hadn’t seen him in, gosh, fifteen years? She quickly dropped her lipstick back in her purse and slipped out of the bathroom.

Anna ducked onto a balcony off the hallway to get a breath of fresh air before heading back to the Starlight Room. She could hear the music starting back up, but the view of the city was stunning, and she needed a little time to think this all through. Spencer Ramsey… Here… Tonight… After all this time.

She braced her hands on the railing, closed her eyes and was immediately transported back in time, to June, just weeks after her high school graduation, on a night that was still somewhat cool. Nothing like tonight. She had worn jeans and a white Tshirt, and in her haste to sneak out of the house, she had slipped her feet into her Keds without socks. Anna had had a crush on Spencer for most of high school, and wanted desperately to make him like her. Anna had been a virgin then, but she would have gladly sacrificed her virtue for Spencer’s attention.

She already knew she was a bad girl at heart, and wanted desperately to unleash that bad girl in Spencer’s arms. In person, he wanted nothing to do with her, but they had many long, late night phone calls in which he was a completely different person. It was with him Anna had delved into phone sex, and prided herself in being able to get him off in five minutes flat if she put her mind to it. Things were complicated, though; he had been dating a girl from another school, who was very jealous and possessive. Finally, during a midnight conversation, Anna became angry and called him all sorts of names, some of which she meant and others that she didn’t, and he hung up on her. For weeks, she was miserable, missing him but not sure how to take back what she had said. And it didn’t help matters any that he refused to spend any time with her in person.

But Anna had called him anyway, that June night, unsure whether or not he would even speak to her. She had been at a friend’s house, and they had split a bottle of white Zin, so she was feeling a little bit brave and very horny. To her surprise, Spencer was not only home, but told her he wanted to come see her. Twenty minutes later, he coasted his beat up Chevy Nova into her driveway, the headlights off so as not to alert her parents.

They walked silently around the side of the house, into the shadow of a large oak tree, and he hugged her, wrapping his warm arms around her body, holding her the way she had always imagined he would. She breathed in the smell of him, determined to remember that moment with all of her senses. He smelled like Eternity cologne and Tide laundry detergent. Finally, he kissed her, caressing her hair and back as he pulled her to him.

She had never been kissed like that before, and she was surprised by the wetness that suddenly damped her panties. She was pure heat, and felt as though she might melt in his arms. She pulled away from him, and he caught her hand. He sucked gently on her fingertips before letting it go. “Some things are worth waiting for, Anna,” he whispered.

They spent an hour sitting on the hill that overlooked her house, talking and flirting, before she reluctantly told him she needed to get back inside before her parents discovered she was gone. He asked her to sit in his car with him, so she did, and it was there that she felt a penis for the first time. Although she had nothing to compare it to, it seemed huge – she could barely meet her fingers around the shaft, and it was so hard, like a firm, warm cucumber, covered in baby-soft skin. She grew even bolder, knowing that she was the cause of his arousal, and kissed him, stroking his cock as her mouth caressed his.

Spencer followed her into the garage and tried to convince her to sneak him into her bedroom. He wanted to make love to her, he said, and kissed her again, sliding his hand inside the front her jeans. Before she had time to think, he had slipped a finger inside of her, and she inhaled sharply. He laughed against her lips, and whispered “You really are a virgin, aren’t you…” Anna kissed him again, thrusting her pelvis to meet his finger, wanting him – needing him – to finish what he started.

He pulled away from her then, and slipped out the door. Two weeks later, she heard that his on-again off-again girlfriend was pregnant, and he was moving in with her at her parent’s house. She never saw him again.

At the end of summer, she left for college, and lost her virginity ankara escort three weeks later, to a boy she had dated off and on that summer. The entire time, she imagined she was with Spencer. He had been the one she had measured all others by, and a fire still burned for him, deep in her belly.

The door opened behind her, and she was aware that she was no longer alone on the balcony. She felt hands on her waist, and a voice whispered, “So this is where you’ve been hiding.” His breath was warm on her neck, and the combination of his soft voice in her ear and his Eternity cologne was the final confirmation she needed. Spencer William Ramsey.

Anna leaned back into him as he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her neck just behind her earlobe. “It’s been a long time, Anna. Too long,” he whispered, nibbling on her ear as his hands reached up to cup her breasts. “I believe we have some unfinished business, you and I.”

She closed her eyes and reveled in the feel of his arms around her after all this time. So much had changed in fifteen years, but some things were still the same. While he was not the same hunky 21 year old who had ignited the lust in her loins that June night, he had grown into a sexy 36 year old man who could still make her melt with a touch. She cupped her hands over his and didn’t feel a wedding ring. Well, Anna thought, at least that’s promising, but that answered only one of nearly twenty years’ worth of questions.

His lips traced a path down the curve of her neck and across her shoulder, pushing the strap of her dress down as he kissed his way across her skin. Anna couldn’t take it any longer. She had to kiss him. She turned to face him, her palms flat against his broad chest, eyes locked with his, forcing herself to breathe. Her lips parted, and she leaned in as he lowered his head to meet hers. Their breath mingled, a heartbeat away from touching lips, his hands lightly resting on the curve of her hips pulling her to him. Their lips met, parted, and reunited again in a gentle, slow, open-mouth kiss that left her breathless and lightheaded.

His hands were warm on her hips, and he pulled her tighter against him, pelvis to pelvis. Her hips swiveled against his in a rhythm as old as time as his mouth plundered hers. Time had ceased to exist. All she could think about was his mouth on hers and the feel of his erection pressing against her belly. Her hands slid down between them, and she began to stroke him through his pants, wanting to return some of the pleasure he was giving her. He groaned and pulled back, putting some distance between them.

“Anna, we can’t. Not here. Not like this. Some things are worth waiting for.” His final words re-ignited the burning lust she had felt that hot June night, and she felt like a teenager again, nervous but brave, with an inexperience matched by eagerness and desire.

She moved toward him and kissed him again, wrapping her arms around his neck. When they finally came up for air, she whispered, “I only live a few blocks from here. Perhaps you’d like to continue this discussion somewhere a little more…private?” Her voice was sultry and dripping with innuendo.

He kissed her again, hard this time, insistent, drawing the heat up through her body and leaving her lips feeling swollen and bruised, before taking her hand and pulling her back inside the hotel. “I’ll drive; just tell me where to go.”

They scurried down the stairs, trying to avoid any other party-goers on their way out, stealing kisses between floors. At one point, she seriously considered sitting him down on the top step and straddling him, she was so hot for him. Some things are worth waiting for, he reminded her, as though she had spoken out loud, before kissing her again, pushing her up against the wall, his thigh between her legs and pressing into her sweet spot. She writhed against him, anxious to feel him inside her. Just when she thought she might explode, he pulled away and grabbed her hand, continuing to lead her down the stairs.

Anna took little notice of his SUV on the short drive to her house, other than the mental note that the back might be big enough for a quickie, should the need arise. The only words she spoke were where to turn and where to park. She was focusing all her energy on not attacking him while he drove. The last thing she needed was for them to be pulled over for reckless driving and have the officer turn out to be her ex.

Inside, she didn’t bother even turning on the lights. She had hardly shut and locked the door when he was on her, pushing her up against the door, his hands massaging her breasts while his mouth molested hers.

Before she knew what was happening, he had slid the dress down off her shoulders, exposing her satin-bound breasts. He tongued her nipples through the red bra, darkening the fabric, as his hands slid up underneath her dress and quickly removed her panties, tossing them behind him into the dark hallway. Anna leaned against the door, her knees weak with desire, as his tongue found her source of pleasure. She spread her legs to allow him full access, thankful for the door holding her up as her pelvis took on a mind of its own, begging him to give her release. Her hands found his hair and she caressed his head while he made love to her with his tongue. The first tremors were starting, and a moan escaped her lips, which turned into a cry of despair as he pulled away from her.

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