I'd do anything to leave here with you tonight....

Bound to fall in love
Bound to fall in love (Uh-huh, honey)

His briefcase was vintage. When he opened it, and elbowed me in my left tit for the first time, I automatically recognized the dangling Golden Fleece of the Brooks Brothers' logo on the interior lid. He'd forced his way into a seat too small for him to move so frequently between me and the sleeping woman. While a magnificent specimen, he had definitely not taken care of the case. Its well worn cognac leather looked like the last time it may have been polished was when his hair was less sandy with greys, which, for this silver haired man, hadn't been for quite some time.

Adjusting my body to avoid further prodding from his fidgeting ALMOST made me miss the GORGEOUS man sitting kitty corner from me. I hadn't even seen him board the train in all of his visual magnificence. I'd been so busy both rolling my eyes and trying to see what the silver-not-fox was taking out of his abused case that my eyes almost missed he-who-was-sure-to-be-my-next-(fill in the blank.)

I had been mid snarl when I locked eyes with him as the fidgeting would-be business man in a parka and hiking boots elbowed me again, sharply, rose and crossed to a more appropriate seat across the train. I sized him up. Everything on him was clean, neat,well assembled. I admired his effort. I'd gotten so used to men who either threw together their half washed look or who barely cared for the sake of caring that I had long since been with a man who looked like he put forth even minimal effort to how he presented himself to the world.

While trying to adjust my coat and undergarments at the same time, the vintage fur coat I'd decided to wear to dinner with friends suddenly didn't seem like such a good idea. I caught a glimpse of myself in the train's window and thought for sure I must look like a fuzzy apple on a stick; big on top, disproportionately small on the bottom. Why would a man THAT fine want a woman who looked like dusty discount cotton candy?  I tried to casually fix my hair in the train's window so that I could at least look my best while I pretended not to notice this beautiful creature who was close enough for me to mount, and claim in the name of the Republic of Lily, but it was altogether too soon for that.

Do I have any of my business cards in my purse?  Perhaps, I could figure out a way to slip him one. That would be a discreet way of flirting without throwing my panties at him, though that certainly would have been the preferred course of action. Ye gawds! He was fine.

As I open my purse to search for a card, the emergency feminine hygiene products I keep in every one of my purses begin to spill out.  As I shifted the 4 super tampons around (seriously? Was I prepping for a menstrual emergency or bracing myself for the levees to break again?) Yeezy's "Bound" began to blare in my ear buds.

My iTunes steadily prove that it is patched into my emotions like a musical heart monitor. I smiled at him across the way, admiring the camel colored coat he wore and wondered what his skull looked like. He had on a hat and I've been fooled int he past by good looking men in hats. Don't believe me? Ask Mona about the Gollum. Once she stops laughing, she'll tell you.

I wanted to know what this man on the train smelled like so I could wallow in his scent for hours.

I know you're tired of loving, of loving
With nobody to love, nobody, nobody (Uh-huh, honey)

Looking at him, I forgot that I'd once again sworn off doing-the-grown-up. Periodically, I need to purge. I do it in between the revolving door of lovers in my life to cleanse my mind and to refocus on what I really want. I was abstaining and here the heavens offered me sex in a camel coat and a dog ears winter hat.  Sometimes you have to be quiet to hear what the universe is trying to tell you.


I wanted to devour him, his mouth, his body, his smell, his fingers. 
I wanted to bite his lip.
I wanted to be on the other end of the texts he sent as we crossed the bridge.
I wanted to skip dinner and take this beautiful stranger home with me.
I wanted to feel those thick fingers grip my body in ways that I would always remember, because I was sure I would always remember.

That back belongs under my nails tonight.
His waist should be between my thighs later.
I don't remember the last time the longing was this urgent.
I can't remember the last time the pulsing in my p-u-s-s-y rivaled the bass in my ear buds.
I'm willing to give him ALL this good wetness I feel collecting and sliding against the kegels I'm doing to remain focused.
I would tighten it up around him, just...so....
(Sidebar: you ever kegel so hard you excite yourself? No? Me neither...I'm asking for a friend.)
I would tighten and pull him in deeper and deeper until he's knocking against major organs I'm sure to need later on.
I want him grazing necessary and important organs later....
He certainly will later on tonight, if I make my move.

My stop was approaching.
He had a confident stance to him, though he was sitting. Confident, but not arrogant. If I had a skirt on and my blood was a higher proof, I'd climb on his lap and ride him like the bridge of a blues song. 

I wish the fake Rico Suave sitting next to him with wet hair on the first day of March would move.
If it weren't for him and the SHOWTIME dudes dancing between us, I could cross and sit next to him.  Casually start up a conversation.
Smoothly...

But what would I do if I did?
What would I say?

I fingered the card I'd slid into my pocket.
I thought of him fingering the panty puddle the same way I diddled the business card and had to draw a sharp breath. Did I just swoon? Did the thought of this man alone just give me the vapors?

I wanna put my cool back on before I hand it to him, but my cool has left the building. He is THAT beautiful.
I want him. 

 I felt the train slowing but my heart was racing.  As I tried to straighten myself, the vintage pelt started shedding. The woman next to me swatted her airspace trying to futilely shoo the long dead flyaways from landing on her.  I didn't mean to, but I laughed, loud. She laughed too and as we both laughed, he smiled at me.

I liked his smile (#noshanice.) I wanted to taste his teeth. Weird as shit, I know, but that was how intimately I wanted to know this man.

I stood up as the train screeched to almost a halt, then jolted forward again, slowly. I switched the card from my right pocket to my left so it wold seem more casual when I handed it to him. Graceful swan that I am, I hoped I didn't fall as I stepped towards him, teetering on 4"heels wrapped in dark brown suede, reached the card out, handed it to him and stood there long enough to make sure it didn't fall to the ground and to see him turn it over in those thick, clean fingers of his.

He took it, almost grazing my hand in the process. I drew another sharp breath, and waited to see him flip the card over to read my title (Writer: Muse) then turned, and exited the train. As my heels click clacked on the pavement wishing there was a discreet way to fan myself in a fur and still look sexy. I opted against fanning and just willed my edges not to dance with the dewy nervous perspiration I was sure was about to glisten on my forehead.

I walked along the platform, feeling kind of like the boss of all coquettes. No, not the boss... The BAWSE. And as soon as that feeling washed over me, the panic set in like the cold sticky sweat I was pulling my fresh blow out away from.

What if he didn't call?

I had already imagined very intimate details about him and wanted to make the imagined a reality.

What if he didn't call?

I walked through the Lower East Side towards a dinner I wasn't really looking forward to and inside a restaurant that looked better suited for me circa 2000 awaiting the rest of my dinner party who were chronically late.

I checked my phone, as pretty girls in busy places often do to show the world how disinterested we are in the goings on around us, when I saw a text from a number I didn't have saved.
"Well that was new..." he went on to introduce himself, but nothing else mattered. I sighed a sigh of relief so deeply, I felt that I'd melted at my seams and was a fleshy oozing puddle across the overused banquet of a restaurant. All this and we hadn't even touched.
This man is sure to be either my greatest love or my greatest demise and I am ready to be either as long as he is the architect.