Road Rage Read online

  I toweled off and padded out to the kitchen in a robe. Caitlyn was a doll. She distracted me with teen drama, homework and a round of cards, a game played like double solitaire we called Scrooge, until bedtime. God bless her for saving me from my unwelcome desire. I could not fathom what irked me more, harboring a grudge against Patrice or being so turned on I couldn’t think rationally where she was concerned.

  Two weeks later, Caitlyn’s squad had an away game, and I had the day off. I couldn’t remember the last time I splurged on a day of beauty. By the time all was done, I felt like a brand new woman. With my fabulous new hairstyle and my earthy ginger painted fingers and toes, I treated myself to a new outfit and got fifty percent off. The new dark-brown slacks were lined for warmth and the ecru sweater hugged my curves while the color combination complimented my naturally red hair and light complexion. As an added bonus, I bought the brown leather boots I’d had my eye on for ages. It was the perfect day!

  On the way to Caitlyn’s game, I sang along with every song on the radio, whether I knew the words or not. There was a good chance I’d run into Patrice after trying hard not to think about her since our fight, but even she couldn’t ruin my day. I felt like a million bucks. I hoped my daughter would recognize me.

  I was excited about Caitlyn’s game that would decide the championships and arrived before her team. As I pulled my van into the parking lot, unfamiliar teachers and kids were leaving and entering the school building, so I figured I’d walk around inside waiting for the game to start. Guessing there would be less loitering outside the classrooms on the second floor, I climbed the steps two at a time. The effort was easy in my comfy new boots. Before I could turn around, the custodian stopped sweeping like he was about to either eat me up or ask if I was lost. I was gone before he had a chance to do either.

  The rival school was twice the size of ours and before long I lost my bearings, but I needed to pee. I had two choices: find the girl’s room or use the teacher’s lounge. Without a soul in sight, I chose the teacher’s toilet, figuring it would be vacant, cleaner and why not pee in comfort. I never expected to bump into my nemesis coming out of one of the two stalls. She wiped her hands on a paper towel before crumbling it into a ball to throw in the wastebasket for a clean shot and turned when I gasped.

  Patrice looked like she was about to die from shock. My feet were cemented to the floor. Neither of us spoke. We stared at each other, silent, the only sound the swishing of air in and out of my lungs and the strong beat of my heart. The only way for me to head into a stall was to brush past her. If I touched her even briefly, I’d combust. I hadn’t seen her dressed up in years. Here she stood in interview-style attire, wearing a sleek navy business suit, sapphire silk shirt and low-heeled gun-metal leather pumps with a bag to match. She held her ground like she owned it. I found this unsettling to say the least and totally sexy to be honest. Her hair was gelled and the braid was either hidden or history, and well, her lips were lined in red, with glistening lipstick that made them all the more moist and kissable. Had I been in a foul mood, I don’t know what I would have done. She spoke first, and funny enough, I didn’t have an ounce of fight in me.

  “Oh, it’s you.” Her voice was gruff but her eyes were soft. With her overcoat and suit jacket in the crook of her arm, I had a good view of how enticing her nipples looked through silk. Before I could steal my gaze from her chest, she invaded my personal space and I could not do a damn thing about it. In fight or flight mode, I prepared to run. All these conflicting emotions clouding my brain affected my motor functions until I felt spastic.

  That’s when she kissed me!

  I couldn’t react to her heated kiss right away and feared she’d bite me again; I still had a tiny scar from the last time. My lips were paralyzed along with the shock of the rest of my body while her lips ravaged mine, rough and soft at the same time, the disparity overwhelming. Had my brain been engaged rather than my body, perhaps then I could have pushed her away. But every fiber of my being was super charged when she tightened her arms around me like an anaconda. She took my breath away.

  Finally, I managed to summon movement from the muscle group responsible for my mouth. I returned the kiss, all the while unable to silence the voice inside my head screaming: you can’t fuck someone you hate; stop this nonsense this instant. But my body was stubborn, my needs were urgent, and my desire was too damn insistent to ignore.

  A subtle whiff of her Obsession pushed me past indecision, as if I had a choice, which I didn’t. My mind was made up. I was going for it, with my eyes open, for better or worse. If her scent aroused my senses, after I was sure it was my least favorite smell on the planet just a short time ago but now had my doubts, then her breasts pressed firmly against mine shoved me into all sorts of unbidden passion, anticipation, lustful thoughts and all the rest I had been denied for more years than I could count.

  Instant bliss was when my nipples hardened; sheer ecstasy was having her pantyhose-clad thigh between my legs; the point of no return was the pressure her thigh put on my throbbing clit. I had a real thing for hose; don’t ask me why, but nylon made me weak in the knees. The wall held me up as she worked my crotch until my panties grew slick with desire.

  Her kisses sent delightful shivers up and down my spine, along my arms and down my legs to my toes. I had to have this woman. At the very least I had to keep kissing her. Fuck hate! I didn’t even give a second thought to love, because at that moment, I could have fucked a lava lamp.

  Her lips were wet, kissable, and her lipstick would be a memory when I got done with it. She tasted so good; I welcomed her mouth again and again. I opened my lips allowing her access; our tongues danced like friends, not foes. She transported me to another universe where enemies were friends in disguise, and once their true identity was revealed, they were friends for life. Where was I going with this? I didn’t care; I had to satisfy my basic need first; and think later.

  As I cupped her head in my hands, she held me off long enough to lock the door from the inside. I roughly pulled her closer for making me wait and she responded with a seductive smile. I greedily ate every last molecule of lipstick off her lips as she helped herself to mine. The moment she placed her palms on my breasts, now swollen, needy and crying out for her like a long lost lover, I couldn’t breathe—there were more important things than air.

  I lived for the way she fondled my breasts. I needed her to go under my sweater, beneath my bra; her hands, scorching and hot on my naked, fevered flesh, were like two flames of the same fire. She brushed her fingers along the hem of my sweater and murmured, “I hate you,” but implored my permission with her eyes.

  “I hate you too,” I whispered, and gave in without further hesitation. Together we lifted the sweater over my head. She placed it on the nearby desk.

  “You’re incredible…it’s unbelievable how long I’ve…” her voice barely registering above the pounding in my ears from the beating of my rapacious heart, “I’ve wanted you for—” I kissed her before she could finish her sentence. I was enjoying her scintillating, stimulating, and heated touch too much to waste time talking. I wanted her all over. I wanted her inside me. And I wanted her now. Hurry up and touch me before I lose my mind, or change it, I thought. If I had to tell a woman what I wanted, I’d almost rather do it myself. I was awed when she granted my secret desire and unhooked my bra our very first time.

  My bared breasts ached to be fondled; I silently rejoiced when she lifted them both toward her mouth. I prayed she’d rub, lick, bite and suck each nipple until I cried; I soaked my panties when she roughly squeezed, playing me like a master pianist. She pressed the fullest parts of my supple flesh together for the shortest distance to travel with her tongue between my rock-hard nipples, more erect than they’d been in forever. With a yearning I’d long ignored, my clit stiffened harder than before as if wondering “why the wait?” In response to her talented ministrations more lust poured out of my lonely-for-so-long pussy.

  I wa
s ready to beg her to fill me. She knew my body language better than I did. She unzipped my pants and along with my panties, she removed my clothes until I stood totally naked before her. Surprisingly, I was open, trusting and at total ease. Pleased with the promise of sex in my life, I was excited beyond compare by how sexy she made me feel and how uninhibited my response.

  Patrice cupped my pussy snaking one then two fingers between my swollen lips. I gasped, sucking in my breath and holding it. Her fingers slid easily inside, probing my center, granting another of my many wishes. My hips met her hand, hips and hand thrusting in unison, until I could stand it no longer, I had to come.

  “Go for it,” was all she had to say and I was thrown into a deep and long lasting climax that kept on coming and coming and coming.

  One glorious peak followed another as if no end was in sight. Her fingers slowed, my pussy tightened, unwilling to let her go. With precision, she guided her thumb around my clit, she stroked up and down the turgid length, until I burst like bright flashing lights; and then she milked it until the very last drop. My knees buckled but she caught me.

  At last, I spoke. “Thank you,” was all I could manage.

  She grinned, cock sure and ready for more. Let her gloat, my turn next. Slowly, I removed her jacket; her nipples were deliciously erect. Carefully, I undid each button until I exposed her bra. She moaned. I giggled as I teased at the hooks until she grasped my wrist. I got the message but ignored her plea. Finally, I exposed her perfect orbs and took my time examining, touching, fondling until she whimpered my first name. It had been years.

  “Bernie,” she whispered, and from her lips my name sounded sublime.

  I made love to every inch I could reach and reveled in awe of her glorious body. When I could finally pull my mouth away from hers, I worked my way down to her fragrant crotch. I loved the way her clit jumped and danced for me. I delighted in how hard and big it grew. The instant I put the tip of my tongue to her clit, she came hard and violently. It was quick but potent. I vowed that this was just the beginning of something bigger than both of us. I could tell; it was the same for her. I luxuriated in her folds until she shuddered, one aftershock after another, until she was no longer able to take it anymore. One last touch on her precious and momentarily tender gem and she gripped my head to ease my mouth off her sated ache.

  I stroked her cheek, glistening from our sweet exertion. She kissed my fingers when she could reach. I lifted her chin and tasted her lips, slightly salty and irresistible. Reluctantly, I stole myself away.

  “I still hate you,” she said.

  “Me too,” I replied, neither of us believing a word of it. “We’d better go.”

  “The game,” she murmured.

  “And just when I have so many more ways I want to please you.”

  “Next time, we need to plan this better.”

  “Yes.”

  We helped each other dress, talking like lifelong friends.

  “I’ve wanted to do this forever,” she said.

  “No kidding?”

  “I never could figure out why I hated you so much.”

  “It was the same for me, but now we both know why, don’t we?”

  “I never was any good at fighting attraction even if I suspected the woman didn’t return my affections.”

  I offered my most apologetic smile. “I’m sorry I cut you off that day.”

  “I’m sorry I lost my temper. I should have let you in.” She took my hands and held them tentatively at first. “Let’s make up over dinner.” She tightened her grip as if she hated to ever let go. “How about this Friday night?”

  “That sounds wonderful, but what do we tell our daughters, they’ll think we’ve lost our minds?”

  “We’ll figure it out.” She pulled me in and held me close. I returned the hug and then peered up into her face, totally aglow, and sealed her lips with all the promise I could put into a kiss.

  The End

  About the Author

  Cheri Crystal is a healthcare professional by day and an erotic romance writer by night. She was born and raised in New York and lives in the United Kingdom with her wife. Cheri began writing fiction in 2003 after reviewing for Lambda Book Report, Just About Write, Independent Gay Writer and other e-zines. Her short story collection, Attractions of the Heart, was a 2010 Golden Crown Literary Winner for lesbian erotica. Visit www.chericrystal.com and friend her on Facebook for the latest news. Due out in February 2013, stay tuned for Ageless Erotica, edited by Joan Price. Cheri is honored to be included in the groundbreaking anthology with her tantalizing lesbian love story, “Better Than Vibrators.” In her spare time, she enjoys swimming, hiking, viewing wildlife, cooking, jigsaw puzzles and spending quality time with family and friends.

  Other Stories by Cheri Crystal

  Award winning author of

  Attractions of the Heart

  Road Rage

  Top Bird

  Innocent Kiss

  Exercise Dyke

  The Ties That Bind

  Does The Butch Come With The Recipe?

  Campus Craze

  Steam

  Playing With The Band

  Going Fishing

  Consult My Pussy

  Climbing Rocks

  Mirror Image

  Better Than Vibrators