The slither of sun reflects from the car windscreen, making you blink as the sky becomes blue, the clouds of the morning finally clearing, the car park vast and surrounded by a tall block of department stores, a bowling alley, cinema and Pizza Hut at one end where you are looking, and a large supermarket off into the distance behind you.
With the smell of tobacco, so out of place yet comforting, transcending the sun soaking into the distant buildings, the uniqueness of you running deep into your immediate reality, the futility resting like a feather on your spine, breaking the havoc in your mind of the past week, going by the only sentiment you can justify, you are crushed by the faults in your past.
Familiar music plays through your headphones, your mind flat-lining against the monotony as the digital clock on the dashboard continues to uncomfortably show the passage of time, as you wonder where I am, knowing the selection of drinks for tonight at the discount store is a worthy distraction from returning a parcel at the counter one door over.
A few minutes passes and in a sudden break with the monotonous yet sweet fog, you feel the pull of my hand on the drivers side door handle, a pleasant shock, stomach sinking slightly as that ever so unrealistic worry that something could have happened is calmed.
Navigating the exit roundabout, just after the small road that leads out of the car park past the Pizza Hut, a wave of comfort coming over as we go left and over, straight ahead down to the larger roundabout, the digital air freshener finally clicking on with the scent of peony, rose and strawberry, an almost seamless change from the tobacco scent that always replayed emotions from decades ago.
The horizon starts to sting as the sun starts descending as you almost feel disappointed that the day is nearly over, maybe you are unfulfilled to your core, numb to the blessing you are living, going by the soreness the now grey state that has come over you, is deceiving you into a delusion, the mental cage that traps you when left alone, only I am that thing that can save you.
Taking you down the dual carriageway, the trees stand tall, the tops extending over the road, the petrol station glows deep into the coming nightfall, I turn into the little entrance and park up in the area beside the small shop, to go and grab some Red Bull for us.
Leaving you in the car as that familiar petrol smell emanates from the pumps behind, cars queuing as the drivers are impatient, with more than one pump user going in to do the weekly shop and pay for their fuel. I select a few large cans of sugar free Red Bull, also picking up dinner for tonight, and unknown to you something else that I bring back to the car in a large white paper bag that they have now decided to provide instead of those flimsy green plastic ones.
Pulling out of the garage, my cars headlights begin to shine against the wooden fence on the other side of the road, knowing our next stop is my house, you mentally sigh that the wonder of yesterday, with all its butterflies that circle your stomach, your mind trespassing into the darkening character of the area.
The turning comes around, as I swerve the steering wheel left, with a slight skid as I effortlessly place the car into the space just outside my house in one swerve, the bricks of the building lighting up with the headlights, "come on," I say, "this carbonara for two won't cook itself", as we both scramble to get out of my car.
I slide the key in the front door lock, the sound of the key against the lock mechanism is comforting, knowing the house is toasty warm, as I open the door and reach in to press the light switch for the hallway, the light coming on in a warm white ambience.
The carbonara now cooked and plated in front of you, we sit either side of the oak effect round table, the Parmesan cheese sitting in a container ready to be sprinkled, we make small talk that takes away the trepidation of your inner conflict, the food surprisingly nice for a quick petrol station job.
A plate of garlic bread is between us, the crust feels perfectly crisp with the bread soft and oozing garlic butter, the conversation between mouthfuls of that tangy goodness feels sophisticated, you feel warm, cared for as if this wasn't me trying to win you over, every other relationship is precarious, the chill starting to come through the cracks in the window as the stars outside come into focus, sharpening as the near hibernal whisper makes itself known.
Sitting on the side of the bed, you notice the bag from the petrol station on the top of the wooden drawer, folded discreetly yet also suspiciously, the scented candle glistening the wall against the dim standing lamp in the corner, as you hear me walk up the stairs with the two ice cold cans of Jack Daniels and Coke that to your surprise I remembered, an almost throwaway line from our little chats online.
The ring pull cracks and hisses as you open it, the immediate sensation is sickly sweet, the bubbles hit your teeth as you hold it close to your lips, looking up at me while taking a sip, the light fall seducing you as your gut drops, the whispers said would be so sweet you'd forget them in a few days, the silhouettes perfectly give you butterflies.
Kisses feel like pleasant static as your hands wander my body, shaped just right to turn you on, as you'd seen in those magazines, sitting on the beach in sun drenched Italy, your modest gaze back then, broken for a minute.
Feeling your fingers slide under the bottom of my t-shirt, pressing against my back lights a bulb in your mind, you feel the breeze in the air of the Amalfi Coast psychosomatically as the tip of your index finger touches and brushes my middle spine.
You become heavy in my arms as we kiss once more, my arms a firm support for you now feeling a feminine urge, a rare experience unlike being alone, the feeling of coldness that comes from using firm silicone with its dull rhythmic pulse, no weight pressing against you, no shift in the warmth between two souls and no falling into each others arms at the moment of climax, your breasts feel heavier behind the fabric of your bra, almost losing yourself to a collapse as the kisses become more intense.
I lift you on to the bed, anxiety coming over you about how you look, a lack of sexual etiquette has you awestruck as I don't flinch for a second, you're momentarily lost, uncertain, but I don't hesitate, I don't waver - and that alone unravels you.
I lay on top of you, kissing your neck with your fingertips on mine, moving down as the small pecks send a warm shiver that make you pull your legs, you make a sultry chirp as my masculine breathing has you surrendered, before I get up from the bed as you are slightly confused, "don't you want me?" you say, as I grab the bag from the petrol station and pull out a bottle of strawberry flavoured lubricant.
You almost burst out laughing in relief, "so that's why you took so long!" you remark, still giggling as I use my teeth to pull anti tamper plastic off of the lid, your breathing still elevated from the caress just moments before, the plastic blew away somewhere, as you ask to take a look at the bottle in sheer disbelief, "it comes with a tingling sensation" I announce as you also clock that.
Biting your lip, you pull your trousers down to reveal your irresistible curves, going over your knees and feet as the fabric of your knickers feels noticeably less heavy, the flower behind it eager yet unique, I come closer for you to feel the bulge in my trousers, inviting you to pull them down for me.
Going past my socks as I kick them away, as you had thankfully done the honours, you place your hand on my penis which is begging for that last bit of stimulation to get hard, it feels substantial and soft, yet firm and inviting, I grab the bottle of lube and dispense some of it on to my penis, inviting you to lick, which then becomes full on sucking.
You feel liberated that you have so much control over me as you deliver an unexpected amount of pleasure, not knowing if I could cum at any moment - a dessert you want to save for last as you finally find a way to pull away and beg me to return the favour.
Laying back on the bed, you feel pleased that this is finally happening, someone desires you enough as your knickers peel away, a feather against your buttocks as the lace pulls past them, I feel butterflies at what is being offered as I now have no other option but to sink deep into your being, allowing your troubles to become mine, aimlessly grabbing the bottle again to dispense some more lube on to your flower.
Within half a second your head jolts back as you receive the best oral, moaning with no resistance as your nipples harden almost painfully against your bra, I see you race to take it off and allow myself to help you, going back down with no need to be asked, you grabbing your breast as masturbation can't even come close to this, every curve of your fingers sending tingles.
I enjoy you as you get wetter, the lube sharpening in taste as the sound in the room starts to penetrate the walls, our motion seamless and a quick coming of the tide, I feel your heartbeat as I come up to cuddle for a few seconds, kissing every point of arousal with an almost magical level of precision.
I open the drawer and grab a condom, tearing it open as you tease yourself while I put it on, you re-arrange the two pillows into the center of the headboard and re-position yourself into the middle, I come and join you, with that awkward ten seconds every couple has of finding the right position as you lay back as your flower curves around my penis, gracefully enjoying the first thrust.
The bed starts shaking as my hips collide with your thighs, as you beg me for more power, making it effortless for me to do, your hand placed on my neck and cheekbone, staring deep into my eyes as the carnal rhythm pleasures you.
Admiring my body moving against yours, my inability to hide how much pleasure you are giving, with the masculine growls and the beginnings of sweat, the sensibility is lost on you as you become something unknown to who you are in the outside world, psychological trepidation is giving way to a new you, that commands an unashamed celebration of what is hidden behind the walls of the building.
There is no buying time, the old you is running away when you know full well come tomorrow morning, the cloud will be back, tonight promising a reprieve as you feel things that haven't been known, almost stolen from what you know should be real.
Bouncing for a mere few seconds we both begin to orgasm, we unravel each other as our minds blank for that few seconds where I become athletic in my motion and our bodies almost fly, I orgasm with such strength that I physically have to hold back as it is pleasantly unbearable, throwing myself beside you as I reach down to your flower which is pulsing like mad, fingering you so perfectly that you have a leg shaking orgasm, your vocalization is so tremendous that its almost like the feeling of falling a thousand feet, for both you and I.