She nods. I kiss her. No slow lean in, no feeling her out. No breathing close with our noses touching. I just tilt my head and swoop in. I catch her lips and press them full and flush with my own. So tough when I’m staring at a distance, so soft up close. It feels like I’m sharing my secret with a stranger. I’m soft inside, just like you, and I want sex. I don’t know why. Then I kiss her properly, but in reverse. First, I kiss her. Then, I pull back just far enough for our lips to brush. I touch her nose with mine and breathe in. I lean back to see her lips, then look up into her eyes. I mumble, light-headed with a thick tongue, “If you don’t want to do that, we don’t have to. We can just have midnight lunch and hang.”
- - - - - - - - - - -
Midnight Lunch is an erotic story about microwave omelets and falling in love at a Mini Mart after midnight. Jean is working the night shift, keeping her emotional cards close to her chest and her wants at arm's length. Surprisingly, she finds selling people coffee and junk food at night is making her softer not harder. When Maria drifts through the doors, Jean threatens to crumble completely. She loses her footing and finds out what she's really protecting under her tough exterior. This short story is 13,600 words.
|File size:||115 KB|
|Age Range:||18 Years|
About the Author
Robin writes at a messy desk in a neat room. She loves sunshine, goofy jokes, and coffee popsicles. She writes to make sense of the world and tries to capture life as it is, believing emotional empathy to be a better medicine than soothing fantasy. She considers the highest praise of her work to be ‘I’ve felt that, too.’ Robin lives in the Pacific Northwest and tells everyone that it’s rainy and grey so she can have the lovely weather all to herself. She doesn’t have any pets but there is this one neighborhood cat that badly wants to live in her house. They hang out on her porch instead. Join her mailing list here: http://eepurl.com/bv3cPL