The old wooden floor creaked and shifted under our feet as we made our way down the narrow aisles. Bottles of every size and fashion stood at attention, their colorful labels touting the brand of the liquor within. A low and sultry guitar rang out through the ancient radio on the counter.
Daniel hummed quietly along with the melody as he lifted a bottle from a rack and examined it. He gently replaced it with the tiny clink of glass on glass. I looked up at the ceiling of the old liquor store, taking in the rough exposed beams from which hung all sorts of artifacts: guitars, fiddles, ancient bottles, even a voodoo doll here and there.
The place smelled of old wood and even older wine. This was a liquor store that had been in business for decades, and it showed in the vintage bottles on the highest shelves. There was a wine cellar in the basement, or so the sign said – it promised to hold only the best wines. Daniel turned a corner at the back of the store and I followed slowly, exploring everything around me but the liquor. The store was a mesmerizing kaleidoscope of history and I was duly fascinated.
“Honey, come look at this,” Daniel said. His voice came from the far corner of the store. I made my way around a freezer full of tall bottles of dark, rich lager.
Daniel stood in the back of a darkened aisle. Here the bottles were dusty and old. There was stepladder to one side. This must be where they kept the overstock merchandise. Even the freezer was dark, but I could hear the motor quietly humming away.
“Did you notice that no one is here?” Daniel asked.
I looked up at the counter. There had been an older man there when we came in, but he had tipped his hat toward me and excused himself to take care of a shipment. There was a little truck outside, and he headed for it with an air of purpose. It appeared that he hadn’t returned.
I smiled up into Daniel’s face. His dark hair looked almost black in the dim light. His eyes were no longer their placid shade of brown – they looked just as black as his hair. I shivered, remembering the voodoo doll hanging from the rafters.
Daniel’s eyes searched mine for a moment before he bent his head to kiss me. His hips came up against mine. Something hard stirred against my belly and I giggled into his mouth as his tongue traced my lips.
“Daniel,” I scolded.
“No one is around,” he whispered back, his lips trailing up my jaw. “You know, I’ve been in this liquor store a million times, but I’ve never once fucked in it.”
“Daniel, for shame!” I laughed, and he looked around, his eyes on the front door of the old liquor store.
“No one is here. Just a quickie, honey, come on. Let’s do it,” he whispered urgently.
I was already getting caught up in the spirit and thrill of possibly being caught. I was always the kind who fantasized about a public kind of encounter, but never had the guts to go through with it. This, though – it wasn’t entirely public, was it? And even if we got caught, what would the punishment be? A scolding, a fury in the eyes, or a barring from the store, perhaps – but what more than that? What did I have to lose, really?
“It has to be fast,” I whispered into his mouth. I found his belt buckle and quickly opened it. Daniel moved back just enough to give me room. I unbuttoned his slacks, then pulled the zipper down.
“Here on the stepladder,” he ordered.
“But it’s old – and rickety – “
“Where is your sense of adventure?” Daniel hissed.
I laughed as he picked me up and set me on the old wooden stepladder. He nibbled on my neck. His hands found my long skirt and clenched into the fabric, pulling it up inch by inch as I pushed his slacks open and pulled him free of his boxers. He was long and hard and ready to go. Daniel moaned softly as he throbbed in my hand.
“Fuck me,” I whispered.
I'm going excerpt crazy over the next few weeks, so I hope you're enjoying them!
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