Quickie • Fog

November 29, 2009

tags: Erotic Fiction, Erotic Story, Erotica, fog, Monocle, Monocle's Erotica, Monocle's Stories, Public Sex

by Monocle

(This vignette riffs on some themes and ideas I’ve loved from Will’s stories. It could not have come about without my reading them, and talking with him about oh so many things.)

Fog
A Quickie by Monocle

“Fog tomorrow morning, the weather says.” You said it casually, like it was, well, the weather, spoken over coffee at the kitchen table before work. But I knew different. I knew why you said it.

A cold front coming, breaking a brief spring heat wave. Those could draw the moisture off the river and sock in the city for half the morning. I knew you’d been waiting for it because you told me so in the warm cocoon of our winter bed. I hoped that the winds would shift and blow the front in another direction. You told me where we’d go, and when we’d go there, and what we’d do. What you’d do to me. You’d said it just that once, and I never forgot, though I’d hoped you did, until today.

I did all right at work, though I was distracted. I checked the weather too often. I fidgeted. I went for a walk through the park. It’s a beautiful park, a great square of green and blue in the center of the city, surrounded by the high-rises of business on two sides, and residences on the other two. I walked along the winding path, lined by greening trees, around the big arc of the northern field, where college kids were lying out and playing Frisbee in the young grass, reveling in a bright, clear, warm day of spring promise. The walk settled me for a time, but didn’t comfort me. By the end of the day, and through dinner I was antsy, though you were perfectly civil and wonderful as always. Attentive, caring, loving. We ate, talked, read, snuggled, went to bed, just like normal. But still I couldn’t fall asleep until far too late.