Heat Wave - Erotika Short Stories for Women (Adult Short Stories for Women Series) by E.M. Flemming

1

 
    The sweltering New York City summer heat
could get to you, if you let it. The hundred-plus degree heat wave could make
people do things they normally wouldn’t do. Trust me, I’m speaking from
experience. But, this wasn’t just any old heat wave. It was a hot and sticky
heat wave – the kind that only exists in places that get as humid as New
York City does. It was the kind of heat wave that left you feeling hot and
bothered – like you just got done with an unfinished steamy session that
ended in a tumble of flesh and hair under the sheets. And of course, with my
luck, the cabby I was in didn’t have any air conditioning, which made the slow
crawl through bumper-to-bumper traffic on Fifth Avenue that much worse.
    “I should have just walked,” I thought to myself. But
looking around at the people walking the streets, didn’t seem that much more
appealing to me. At least I was under the cover of a taxi. I looked at my phone
to check the temperature – 108 degrees. The black vinyl sticky backseat
of the taxi wasn’t making matters any better, but I tried to shrug it off. I
didn’t know how much longer I could handle the heat so I thought about the
beach for a moment, and how nice it would have been to be lying on a beach in a
cool breeze. I thought about my long brown hair tussling in the wind. That
would have been really nice right about then.
    The thought of lying on a beach got me stirring. But it
wasn’t just the thought of any old beach, or lying there on my own. I thought
about how nice it would have been to be lying on a beach with Robert Dorning. I
couldn’t get that man out of my mind. I had to shift around in the cabby just
thinking of him, cramping my bare legs as I bit my lips for a moment. Robert
Dorning. Just the mere thought of him made my legs quiver. But he was off
limits for me. I wasn’t allowed to touch him. That is, I wasn’t allowed to
touch him if his wife – my so-called best friend, Amy – had
anything to do with it.
    The cabby honked, jarring me back into the present moment. It
was still stop-and-go on the street, and I wasn’t getting anywhere. I couldn’t
decide if I should’ve gotten out and just walked the seven giant blocks in the
sweltering heat, or not. And as if the honking was going to help, the cabby let
go another rip of the horn. “God, this heat,” I said to the driver. I fanned
myself with a newspaper that had been left lying around in the taxicab.
    The cab driver undressed me through the rearview mirror with
his little beady eyes. I shouldn’t have said anything. I caught his glare a few
times, and brushed it off. The beads of sweat were starting to form around my
collarbone.
    Robert Dorning.
    The slow crawl continued, and I reeled in thought. If this
were just any old day, the wait in traffic wouldn’t have been so bad. I didn’t
mind the break from being stuck in front of a computer, pounding away at the
keys, even if it was sweltering hot outside. No, this wasn’t just any old day. This
was the day I was going to have lunch with Robert Dorning. I thought about him
again, and closed my eyes just to picture him standing in front of me there.
Undressing him. Yes, I know, I wasn’t supposed to think like that, considering
his wife was my best friend, but I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t help those
thoughts from entering my mind. I squeezed my legs together again and shut my
eyes for a moment.
    Another honk.
    I opened my eyes to see the cabby peering at me again with
those beady little eyes. His messy dark hair looking disheveled, as if he
hadn’t washed it in days. I did a small dry heave as I lowered my head, hoping
he would stop looking. But the traffic wasn’t moving. Fifth Avenue was crowded
with clusters of yellow – taxis were trying to maneuver from lane to lane,
but they weren’t getting anywhere. What’s the point of trying to switch lanes
in traffic that’s stopped? I just couldn’t understand it.
    “Do you know what the hold up