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Message-ID: <39945asstr$1040245804@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Nick Scipio <imperatorSPAM@BLOCKmindspring.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} NEW: Anticipation Like a Drug, A Jazz Club Story (MF, pett)
Date: Wed, 18 Dec 2002 16:10:04 -0500
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Author: Nick Scipio
Title: Anticipation Like a Drug
Universe: Jazz Club
Summary: Her eyes flicked towards the restrooms and she grinned 
mischievously. When she hooked her fingers in the waistband of 
my jeans, I became instantly erect. She gave me a tug, and I 
followed her lead.
Keywords: MF, pett
Revision: 1.0
Archive: http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/scipio/
Mailing List: Scipio_Stories-subscribe@yahoogroups.com
FAQ: http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/scipio/www/faq.htm

*****************************************************************
                       STANDARD DISCLAIMER

The following piece of fiction is intended as ADULT 
entertainment. It contains material of an adult, explicit, SEXUAL 
nature. If you are offended by sexually explicit content or 
language, please DO NOT read any further.

All characters in this story are fictitious; any similarity to 
any persons, places, individuals or situations is purely 
coincidental. The author does not necessarily condone or endorse 
any of the activities described in this story.

This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without 
the written permission of the author, Nick Scipio 
(imperatorSPAM@BLOCKmindspring.com). This story may be freely 
distributed with this disclaimer attached.

Copyright (c) 2002 Nick Scipio. All rights reserved.

*****************************************************************

Anticipation Like a Drug
by Nick Scipio

I was eager, anxious, excited, frustrated, and a little bit 
confused. I tried to sort it all out in my head, but the only 
clear thought I had was of _her_. Kate. How had I attached so 
many emotions to one person? I hadn't felt this way since the 
eighth grade!

I'd pursued women before, but I'd always known more about them, 
where I could find them, what they liked. Kate was a mystery. I 
didn't even know her last name. She knew me no better. Well, 
perhaps a _little_ better, I thought to myself, as I remembered 
the feeling of her hand wrapped around my erection.

The one thing I knew about her, the one solid thing, was when I'd 
see her next. Tuesday. I knew she'd be at the Jazz Club, I never 
had any serious doubts, and I found my certainty curious. 
Unfortunately, I'd had plenty of time to think about why I was so 
certain. The days until Tuesday dragged by, one plodding hour 
after another.

Each day by noon, I'd finished every last bit of work that I had 
to do. There were only three other people in the office, so I 
used the time in the afternoons to do my Christmas shopping. 
Despite being a bachelor, I had a fairly extensive list of people 
on my gift list: my brother and his wife, their two kids, my 
mother, my father and his wife, college-age cousins (girls) that 
I was close to, Gabriel, the girls in the office, servers and 
bartenders at the Jazz Club, the list seemed to go on and on.

I did about half my shopping online--thank God for Amazon.com--
and the rest of it in the large local malls. In order to distract 
myself from thoughts of Kate, I even made the 45-minute trip to 
the largest tourist trap in this part of the state, which 
contained no fewer than four major outlet malls and a whole host 
of smaller ones. Everyone and their cousin seemed to be out 
shopping, and the traffic was mind-numbing. I love the holiday 
season, but I hate the crowds. I love buying gifts, though, 
perhaps as much as I enjoy giving them.

I'd even toyed with the idea of getting Kate a gift. While I was 
shopping for everyone else, she was constantly on my mind. I 
stopped in a jewelry store to look at watches for my mother. 
Would Kate like jewelry? In my mind, I pictured her wearing a 
nice string of pearls, and nothing else. The salesman gave me a 
funny look as I fondled the string and smiled to myself. Kate 
wore a ring on her right ring finger, but nothing else that I'd 
noticed. Reluctantly, I ruled out jewelry. Too personal, too 
soon.

I walked past the Godiva store and decided to step inside. I 
bought half-pound boxes for the servers at the Jazz Club, one-
pound boxes for the girls in the office. I looked over the boxes 
of truffles, and thought about Kate's lips wrapped around... Well, 
by the time the harried salesgirl got my attention, I wasn't 
thinking about Kate's lips and _truffles_. I decided against 
chocolate. Too sappy.

When I passed the Victoria's Secret store, I simply had to enter, 
even though I couldn't imagine giving anyone on my list something 
from Victoria's Secret. No one, that is, except perhaps Kate. And 
she wasn't even really _on_ my list.

In spite of the fact that there was a decent crowd of shoppers in 
the store, I quickly had a salesgirl at my side. Her nametag read 
"Eve."

"Is there something I can help you find?" she asked smoothly. She 
was young, perhaps 25, and very attractive.

"I'm looking for something for... a friend."

"What size is your friend?" She used the euphemism with ease.

I opened my mouth to answer, thought about what I was about to 
say, and then actually laughed out loud. She looked at me 
curiously, so I hastily explained. "This is going to sound like 
the worst pick-up line, but she's about your size." I pointed 
vaguely at her lovely body. "About your build."

She actually blushed. To her credit, she remained businesslike 
and showed me several very sexy outfits, ranging from evening 
wear to lingerie. Eve chose outfits in her size, and then held 
them against her body, modeling for me. With each one, I would 
imagine Kate wearing it, and my cock quickly stiffened. Eve 
noticed, but misinterpreted the cause, and mercilessly led me 
towards the more revealing, and erotic, pieces of lingerie.

By the time we looked at panties, her nipples were noticeably 
erect. As soon as Eve held up the first pair of lace thong 
panties, I had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing. Kate 
_definitely_ had no need for those! Although I was enjoying 
flirting with Eve, I reluctantly decided that underwear was the 
wrong gift. Too personal, too soon.

When I thanked her and left, without asking for her phone number, 
I could tell that Eve was disappointed.

"I'll be glad to help if you change your mind," she said, laying 
a hand on my arm.

Change my mind about what? The lingerie, or the phone number? I 
looked into her eyes and smiled. Either, I decided. I thanked her 
again, and visions of Kate drew me out of the store and back into 
the mall.

For the rest of the week, I ruled out everything I looked at, for 
one reason or another. It all came down to the simple fact that I 
knew so little about Kate. Besides, while our encounters _were_ 
heated, they only consisted of a brief flash of her shaved pussy, 
a little help at the toilet, an almost-handjob, and several 
intense--but very promising--kisses. So I mentally scratched her 
off my gift-giving list. For the moment.

When Tuesday finally arrived, I was mostly finished with my 
holiday shopping, and I was exhausted. I spent the entire morning 
working in a Kate-fueled haze. I tried, unsuccessfully, to get 
her off my mind. I would succeed for a few minutes, if I managed 
to distract myself on the Net, but I kept coming back to her, 
kept thinking about her mannerisms, her exquisite body, her 
attitude.

I don't know what chemicals are released by the brain when you 
want something, or someone, but I felt like I was mainlining 
them. I couldn't remember a time when I'd wanted a woman as much 
as I wanted her. I'd decided that I was half-crazy, blinded by 
lust. I spent most of the morning with an erection, thinking 
about her--the feeling of her warm fingers squeezing my cock, the 
swell of her breast pressed against my arm, the sight of her 
smooth slit, punctuated by a thin strip of pubic hair. I wasn't 
half-crazy, I finally decided, I was _entirely_ crazy.

I looked at my watch and decided to take an early lunch. When I 
returned, a little after 1:20 p.m., I settled in to do a little 
shopping online. I browsed Amazon.com. I set up a Wish List and 
filled it with all the DVDs I could possibly want, and some I 
didn't know I wanted. I went to Crate & Barrel online, and 
shopped for knick-knacks, abandoning a shopping cart filled with 
$500 worth of stuff I didn't need. I answered some e-mail. I took 
a call. I looked at my watch, 2:05 p.m.

I hit eBay, aimlessly wandering through the myriads of treasures 
at auction. After I got bored there, I read the current news at 
Salon.com. I read the columnists I liked: David Horowitz, Camille 
Paglia, Amy Reiter, Allen Barra, and others. I clicked through 
the layers of the site, reading anything that struck my interest, 
for what seemed like hours. I looked at my watch, 2:40 p.m. 
Thirty-five minutes? I did all that in thirty-five minutes?

I tapped on my watch crystal, despite the fact that the second 
hand was sweeping. I searched for an online time server, and set 
my watch to the _exact_ time. Then I set my computer's clock to 
the exact time. Then I found an automatic time applet, downloaded 
it, installed it, paid for it, got the confirmation code in my e-
mail, and registered it. I looked at the computer's clock--
accurate to within mere microseconds, courtesy of the U.S. Naval 
Observatory--2:51 p.m.

Music! I needed some music. I opened up my MP3s folder, queued up 
a bunch of my favorites from the Eighties, and then hit play. 
Time, 2:55 p.m. I bounced through songs in the queue, listening 
to the first few bars, before moving on to the next song that I 
just couldn't wait to hear. I finally got tired of the Eighties, 
2:59 p.m., so I queued up the Nineties. I loaded WinAmp with a 
good 75 songs and hit play at 3:03 p.m. Finally, I settled in to 
browse for new skins for WinAmp. Twenty-three skins and eleven 
minutes later, I got bored.

Kate.

Beethoven!

The Ninth Symphony, one of my favorites, was 70-some-odd minutes 
long. They'd designed 74-minute CDs, way back when, so that the 
whole Symphony would fit on one disc. I scrapped Blink 182 and 
loaded Beethoven. If I could last through the whole Symphony, I'd 
make it close enough to 4:30, when the Jazz Club opened. I had 
high hopes. I made it to the second movement, the one I think of 
as the "chase scene." Time, 3:27 p.m.

I closed my eyes and thought of her. Sensual lips. Even white 
teeth. Pear-shaped breasts. Trim stomach. Shapely hips. Legs, 
legs, legs. Did I mention her legs? I got an erection, just 
thinking about her calves and ankles. Ankles... one in each hand as 
I thrust into her... Snap out of it, man!

I looked at myself and decided I needed to change clothes. I 
needed a shower. I needed to get out of the office. The office 
was a vortex where time was sucked away and the clocks all ran 
slow (despite the best efforts of the Naval Observatory). I 
closed WinAmp, I closed my e-mail, and I left. No one asked where 
I was going, but all three of the remaining people in the office 
looked at me funny. I didn't care.

Why couldn't I live further away from the office? The 10-minute 
drive was mindless, and short. I went inside and shed my clothes 
on the way through the bedroom. I'd pick them up later, maybe. I 
turned on the shower and stepped under the stinging spray, 
letting the heat infuse me. I shampooed, I washed, I scrubbed, 
and I shaved. I got an erection, thinking about how Kate would 
look, water-sleek and smiling, standing in the steam in front of 
me. I reached for my manhood, then decided against it. I wanted 
to wait. I luxuriated in the water until it ran cold. When I 
stepped out of the shower stall, every smooth surface in the 
bathroom was fogged.

I wiped off the mirror, and then the clock next to the door, 3:58 
p.m. I went through my bathroom routine, mechanically. With my 
body on autopilot, my mind wandered, and I thought of _her_. I 
got another erection, but resolutely refused to touch it.

When I opened my closet, I stared in dismay at the racks of 
clothes. I must have gone through the better part of half my 
wardrobe, looking for the perfect outfit. When I finally decided 
on comfortable jeans and a pullover sweater that made my chest 
look good, I was mentally exhausted. I had to get it together! 
Kate would see me and wonder where the cool, collected guy she'd 
been fondling the week before had gone, and then she would wonder 
why had he been replaced by _this_ doofus?

I opened the nightstand drawer and stuffed two condoms in my 
front pocket and then lay down on the bed, on top of a pile of 
discarded clothes. I sneaked a quick look at the clock, 4:16 p.m. 
I wanted to leave soon, so I could hopefully relax and have a 
drink or two before she arrived. I tried to calm down, to control 
my breathing, and closed my eyes.

I opened them again, a couple of minutes later, and automatically 
looked at the bedside clock, 6:18 p.m. Ahhhh, good, I thought to 
myself. I'd only had my eyes closed for two minutes, so I could... 
Two minutes? I looked at the clock again in growing panic. Two 
minutes? Two _hours_ and two minutes!

I flew off the bed and quickly brushed my teeth again, cleaning 
the taste of sleep from my mouth. My errant hair refused to 
cooperate when I ran my fingers through it. With a final look at 
myself in the mirror, I ignored my hair and headed for the front 
door. I stuffed my feet into my shoes, grabbed my coat, and 
headed out to the Rover.

I drove like a madman to the Jazz Club. I didn't know a Range 
Rover would drive well standing on two wheels, but it handled 
like a champ. When I pulled into the parking lot, it was nearly 
full of cars from the after-work crowd. I found a spot, near the 
back, and headed for the front door, restraining the urge to 
sprint. I had visions of seeing Kate's Lexus pulling out of the 
parking lot just as I rounded the corner. While I walked, as 
quickly as my self-imposed decorum would allow, I hastily scanned 
the parking lot for a sign of her car. No luck. The sodium 
streetlights muted the colors and I couldn't pick out her car.

At the front door, I paused to compose myself. I ran a hand 
through my hair and straightened my jacket. As calmly as I could, 
I reached for the door handle and then pulled. When I stepped 
inside, my eyes immediately scanned the vestibule. No sign of 
her, and a rushed glance at the cloakroom revealed a _lot_ of 
black leather coats. I had just started for the stairs when I 
looked up at a smooth pair of legs, long legs, encased in knee-
length white stockings. My eyes moved up, over the pleated 
Catholic-schoolgirl skirt, over the fitted and buttoned blue 
blazer. My gaze then slid over the swell of luscious, pear-shaped 
breasts, over the long, elegant neck, and finally settled on the 
twinkling blue eyes I'd seen in my imagination for the past week.

"Hi there," she said nonchalantly.

I tried to look as unruffled as I could, but I'm sure it was a 
weak effort. "Hi."

"I was beginning to think you weren't going to be here," she 
said.

"I'm here," I said, stating the obvious. I was on pins and 
needles.

Her eyes flicked towards the restrooms and then she grinned 
mischievously. She moved down the stairs, and I reflexively took 
a step back. When she lifted the hem of my sweater and hooked her 
fingers in the waist of my jeans, I became instantly erect. She 
gave me a tug, and I mindlessly followed her lead.

The two guys waiting in line for the men's room gave me shit-
eating grins as Kate dragged me past them and into the ladies' 
room. Once inside, she shut and locked the door, and then turned 
to me.

She wrapped her arms around my neck and stepped close. I put my 
hands on her hips and bent to kiss her. Our lips met and I 
immediately felt her tongue teasing mine, licking my lips, 
tasting me. The kiss grew heated and she pressed herself against 
me, grinding her hips against my erection. I was lost in her 
embrace, but it didn't escape my notice when she dropped her 
hands and fumbled for my belt. In a moment, she'd stripped it 
open and pulled loose the buttons of my fly.

Her cool fingers reached into my boxers and withdrew my swollen 
member, caressing my length and squeezing me gently. She stood 
back and began stroking me in earnest, her eyes smoldering, a 
playful smile quirking her lips. When she turned to lean against 
the cool porcelain of the sink, she turned me with her, and then 
spread her legs so I could move closer.

I stepped forward and ran my hands up her torso to cup her 
breasts. She grinned at me while she continued stroking my cock, 
and I gently squeezed her fabric-encased breasts. The buttons on 
her fitted blazer, which was complete with a faux school crest, 
came undone under my skillful fingers. She gasped as I spread 
open her jacket and revealed the sheer blouse underneath.

She was braless, and her swollen nipples were clearly visible. I 
gripped them between thumb and forefinger, causing her to moan. 
When I began twisting them, she closed her eyes and whimpered. I 
released her breasts, and my hands trailed down her stomach to 
the waistband of her skirt, and then lower to the hem. Her eyes 
flew open as I lifted the plaid material.

The hand on my cock stopped moving as my hand darted under the 
pleated folds of her skirt and I found what I was looking for. 
She was smooth, and hot, and very, _very_ wet. Her clit was 
already hard, so I ran my fingers up and down her slit, spreading 
her moisture and making her slippery. She began to look anxious, 
but then I bracketed her clit with two knuckles and rubbed the 
sides of the sensitive pearl, and she shuddered and closed her 
eyes in ecstasy.

With my other hand, I bunched her skirt up and extracted myself 
from her suddenly limp grasp. My cock was harder than it had been 
all day, and it had begun to ooze pre-come. I stepped forward and 
rubbed her slippery pussy with my swollen glans, causing her to 
moan again. I thought about the condoms in my pocket and was just 
reaching for them when...

I thought about my day, and all that had led me to this point, 
and I came to a decision. As I looked at her, calm washed over me 
like a wave. Her face and neck were flushed with desire, her 
nipples were diamond-hard points straining at the thin fabric of 
her sheer blouse, and her pussy was beckoning to me warmly. I 
moved forward and my cock slid over her pussy, teasing her clit 
with its passage. The base ground against her as my hips met her 
inner thighs.

When I stopped moving, she opened her eyes. Nervousness crept 
into her expression so I bent to kiss her. Her body responded 
against mine and the kiss heated. When I pulled back, we were 
both breathless. With lust-glazed eyes, she looked at where my 
cock was poking out from between us. Her hand reached for me, but 
I stopped her.

She looked confused as I reached into my jacket pocket and 
withdrew a pen and one of my business cards. I flipped the card 
over, held it in my left palm, and began to write on the back. I 
wrote down my private cell phone number and then put away the 
pen. She watched me curiously throughout.

"I want you more than I've wanted any woman in a long, _long_ 
time," I said.

She wiggled her hips against me and I almost relented. I could 
feel the heat and moisture of her pussy on the base of my cock, 
and it was almost more than I could resist. Ruthlessly, I quashed 
my rising lust and palmed my business card as I reached for her 
blazer. While I refastened the buttons, I bent to kiss her again, 
losing myself in the feel of her supple lips against my own.

"God! I want you," I breathed, pitching my voice low. "But all 
this fucking teasing is making me insane."

I kissed her again, hard and fast, and ground my hips against 
her, making her shudder. When I pulled back, I lifted her hand 
and put my business card in it. She stared at it 
uncomprehendingly for a moment, and then looked into my eyes.

"If you want me as much as I want you, and God how I hope you do, 
you're going to have to _call me_," I said.

Her eyes darted from my face, to my handwritten phone number, and 
then back again. I stepped back and looked at her while I stuffed 
my unwieldy erection back into my boxers. She looked disheveled, 
I hadn't put her back together all that well, and I smiled as she 
looked at me in shock. I managed to button my jeans and fasten my 
belt, but my poor cock was crammed painfully down the leg of my 
shorts.

I leaned in to kiss her again, tenderly, but with some heat, and 
she whimpered as I pulled back.

"I don't want a first-name-only, hard-and-fast-in-the-bathroom-
and-then-we're-gone kind of thing," I said to her seriously. 
"It's a good place to start, but a bad place to end."

I turned for the door, but checked my motion. When I turned back 
to her, she looked at me in confusion. I pulled her towards me, 
and into my arms, and kissed her soundly. She resisted at first, 
and then melted against me, throwing her arms around my neck and 
twining her fingers in my hair as she pulled my head down.

I pulled back and reached for the door.

"Call me," I said.

As I turned the doorknob and the lock clicked its release, she 
let me go. I brushed my fingers down her arm and over her palm, 
pulling her hand after me as I opened the door. My fingers 
lingered, holding hers, and then I let her go. When I stepped out 
into the dim hallway, there was no one in sight. I walked past 
the hostess and back into the cold night, wondering what I had 
just done.

I straightened my coat and walked purposefully towards the Rover. 
My erection was an uncomfortable reminder as I strode into the 
cold night, and I grinned ruefully when I thought about where it 
_could_ have been.

And then, I wondered if she would call.

I didn't make it home, I didn't even make it to my car, before my 
phone was ringing. It was too soon to be her, I thought sullenly. 
It was probably Gabriel, lonely, and calling to talk to me about 
how all the 20-something girls weren't interested in being 
bought. I was in no mood to talk to him.

The Caller ID labeled the call Private, but I was sure it was 
Gabriel, calling from his hotel. I answered the phone with a 
snarl. For a moment, I heard nothing from the other end of the 
line. Then I heard background noise, bar noise, and I became even 
more perturbed.

"What's the matter? Are you okay?" I heard through the phone, 
faintly, from the background. "Who are you calling?"

I heard the sound of heavy breathing. "Hello?" It was her.

"Hello," I said, anticipation making my voice waver.

"Ethan?"

"Yes." Despite my growing excitement, I kept my voice level.

"Meet me in front of the restaurant," she said.

"I'll be right there."

-----

Copyright (c) 2002 Nick Scipio. All rights reserved.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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