Wild women do… and they don’t regret it
Wild women show what they’re goin’ through
Wild women do what you think they’ll never
What you only dream about wild women do.

Natalie Cole – Wild Women Do

The tall, good looking man sat sipping his hot, black coffee, head bent into his laptop, eyes filled with concentration and focus. He smelt success, looked intelligent and had the dimpled smile which could win any women’s heart and all her other desires too. Yummy some described him, desirable said another. Women vied for his attention but strangely he had not found anyone who could make him look up from the lit up screen, infected with rows and rows of numbers until…the tall sultry chocolate skinned siren breezed past him, her Aqua scenting up the place and her aura lighting up the already lit up mall with a brightness of her own. She wore a short, floral printed off shoulder dress, strands of beads filling up her gorgeous neck, and her long curly locks flying all around with a life of it’s own. Her legs seemed polished to a shine. Shapely, stemming out fabulously from those tan boots.

She walked with a swing in her steps, helped by her generous hips which gave character to her wonderful body.  A modern day gypsy who looked magical, the dream catcher tattoo sweeping the mane on her neck and a series of birds flying upwards on her calves. She entered the high end brand store opposite the coffee shop and he, who was unwavering, suddenly found himself drawn like a magnet to this fiery soul and he walked towards the store, without thinking of his laptop or bag lying there.

She moved around the racks, looking at things, putting them on herself, wondering if they suited her or not when their eyes caught in the huge mirrored wall as he nodded in approval. She looked surprised, then amused, as she picked up another from the rack. His head shook in negative as she smiled and then picked another gorgeous outfit in olive green. His eye brow went up and he smiled in approval as she walked inside the trial room. The shop was near empty as he moved further. She turned to see him watching her as her face curved up in a wicked grin.

The door was left slightly ajar as she dropped down her dress that she was wearing. She was poetry in motion and he knew that she was well aware that he was watching her. Her long, graceful neck, continued to full heavy breasts, beads carelessly playing peekaboo with them, which lay free without any bra, glistening and shining, her nipples, even darker but ripe and hard, betraying her body’s needs. Her waist, curvy but toned, as it continued to her wide hips, which might seem over full to many but on her frame, seemed to make her more tempting and delicious. Her thongs covered her modesty but he could see a tattoo curving out of it, arching around her waist and moving towards her back like a tribal waist band. He longed to see how and where it started but she turned to see herself in the mirror and her back seemed like a wave, curving and arching, creating a symphony of sorts.

She was gorgeous. She had given him an erection from the moment he smelt her but now his manhood was so hard that it was impossible to control himself. He inched closer to the door when he heard the subtle click and realized she had locked it. Disappointment hit him hard. He was so close to what he craved like a drug but couldn’t get it. The door opened and she walked out carrying the dress. She did not even glance at him as she walked by closely. She picked up a sexy looking dress and without turning to him for approval brushed past him. Her breasts pressed against his hands so subtly that he was unsure whether it really even happened. She moved towards the trial room and while shutting the door, just gave him one smoldering glance which now made him totally lose all sanity as he swiftly hijacked the trial room and locked the door.

Both stood there silently. Two predators, strong, sure but both victims. The room already small, felt like it was shrinking even farther. Her perfume filled his entire being as he stood staring. She stood with her back against the wall, her dark shoulders gleaming and inviting. He moved towards her and she stood waiting to see his next move but he gently placed a kiss on her shoulder. She melted under his touch as he felt her surrendering. His kisses continued from her shoulder, moving towards her neck. Her breasts pressed against him hungrily, straining and hopeful. He now crushed her lips hard with a strong kiss, his hands simply pulling down the dress she had worn. Her breasts now free, responded to the magical touch of his fingers as he squeezed and fondled them. Her nipples tight as she moaned in pleasure as he bent down to take her nipples in his wet, hot mouth. He sucked on both nipples like the nectar it offered would fill him up with the juices of lust.

His hands continued torturing her body, rubbing it, massaging her hips, making her shiver as he touched her gently then rough then smooth again and he could see her thongs became wet with desire which led to him rubbing her through the wet, satin triangular piece, as her rosebuds aroused themselves further. She was so ready and so was he. A sudden knock on the door made him realize the constraints of time as she giggled and replied, this one’s busy. She looked cool and relaxed as she unzipped him, freed his throbbing manhood and without even removing her thongs, thrust him inside her. They fit perfectly.

Two animals, high in the mating season, finding the perfect union, unleashing their primate desires, raw, bold and wild. He now went on a frenzy as he started thrusting into her, unable to be gentle, realizing she needed the speed and power as much as he did. She stood standing glorious and confident, her tall frame, matching his as they let the uninhibited desires overtake their senses, both craving the release that this union could offer. The room seemed to be shaking as he now turned her, pushed her on her knees, bending himself, pressing her breasts against the wall, as he entered her from behind, his hands massaging her clit with his fingers while he continued to thrust her, stronger and wilder, making them peak higher and higher till they both climaxed together. Panting and breathless but elated with this wild mating. She pulled on her dress, as he zipped up his pants, and without uttering a single word, she walked out of the cubicle, nonchalant and cool.

She was a Goddess, and it would take no less than a Greek God to even speak a word to her. He watched her leaving, from where he sat in the coffee shop, the dark corner he spent most of his days in. How he wished he had the courage to approach her as his protagonist had done in his book, but he was a mere writer without the heroic abilities of the protagonist he had so cleverly crafted with his words. The hero could get any woman he wanted anywhere but maybe the writer was destined to live the lonely life, unable to come out of the shell of his isolated existence. He kept hoping that someday he would find his manliness and courage but till then his protagonist would have to continue live his rocking life, showing the world what a stud he was!



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