Coffee Break

Fuller spotted her at Coffee People sipping a mocha.

She was reasonably attractive, but seemed disheveled. Strands of hair had escaped from her ponytail, her blouse had a coffee stain, and bulged a little where it tucked into her skirt. She wore a wedding ring. He sat next to her.

Fuller considered himself a player. He knew women found him irresistibly attractive. He used his coffee break for pickups.

She spoke first.

"Do you like my hair?"

"Aha!," said Fuller "You caught me looking."

"Well, do you like it?"

"It's nice enough."

"Nice enough for what?"

"It's long. I like long hair."

"Oh, you do, do you?"

"Yes, I do." Fuller stated affirmatively nodding his head.

"Why do you like it long?"

"It gives me something to grab."

"Oh, so you're a grabber, huh?"

"I like to touch," acknowledged Fuller.

She challenge Fuller. "Let's see you touch my hair."

Fuller pointed a finger lightly stroking her hair.

"Would you be that gentle if we were alone?"

"Probably not," Fuller admitted.

"Would you grab my ponytail in your fist and twist me to your desires?" She was heating up the pace of their conversation.

Fuller carefully stopped sipping his coffee for fear of choking. "Err . . . no, I wouldn't do anything like that."

"You'd force me to my knees?"

"No I wouldn't."

"You'd make me."

"No."

She gave him a smile. "Men are such liars."

"Not all men."

"My coffee's gone. I've gotta go."

"Wait. Give me your phone number," said Fuller.

"If I do, you'll never call."

"I'll call. I promise."

She wrote down her phone number on a matchbook. "Here, don't forget to call. Ask for Mrs. Lyon."

"I'll call."

Fuller put the matchbook in his pocket. He carried it around for the next 2 months. He carried it after all the matches were gone. He thought about calling, but married women were just too easy.

When he did dial, it was to keep his promise. He would enjoy turning her down. Fuller asked for Mrs. Lyon. The voice mail recording of a women's voice kept repeating the same message. "City Zoo, our hours are from 10am to 6pm, Monday through Saturday."

Fuller slammed down the phone and blurted out a string of obscenities.

"Slovenly bitch! I'd grab your hair, force my cock into your mouth, fuck your ass until it burned, and spurt hot cum all over your face!"

After he stopped shouting, Fuller smiled. She had sized him up correctly within the first few minutes of their meeting. She was tacky, but intelligent. He had put off phoning because he thought she would be too easy. She lied better then he did.

Fuller spent the next 6 months searching for her.