The air was cold and brittle and the woman entered the coffee shop with a sort-of flurry that reminded me of the snowstorm that had blanketed the park the previous day. She seemed to actually shake-off the cold as she entered, unconcerned about where the cold lodged itself - after all, it had adhered itself to her without invitation. I noticed the gloved hands that she rubbed together as she approached the counter to order. The gloves were removed to reach into the purse to pay and I found my mind unwillingly thinking the cliche, "oh to be a glove on those hands."

She was beautiful, in a monied sort-of way. She exhibited too much class to be a model, but not enough down-homeness to be the girl-next-door. She was the woman who you don't possess, but who instead possesses you. She called the shots. She said when and where. But she said it with a desire behind her eyes; not a desire of domination and rule, but one of passion and fire.

Her eyes looked out from the frame of her face with an alertness that belied her relaxed demeanor. Between them, her nose sloped to its point and flared daringly as with it she sniffed the dark aroma of the coffee she'd ordered. Her mouth was small, with lips that pouted slightly when her expression was slack.

The winter clothing served to conceal most information I could gather about her body. But from what little I could tell, it matched her face in a most pleasing way.

She turned from the counter and her eyes swept across the tables. They momentarily met my own eyes, and I held her gaze, smiling slightly. I wondered, as I often do, how she'd feel if she knew I was appraising her as I was. Perhaps she did know. Her gaze moved on and she settled on a table by the window where she sat and proceeded to gaze into the dazzling snow-capped morning.

I'm not sure why my mind works the way it does, but as I gazed upon her hair, the sun glancing translucent through it, I could imagine a lover's hand entangled in that soft mass, urging her on with soft sighs of contentment and urgency. I studied her face again, noting that she had the demeanor of one who was well-fucked, or at least satisfied in the amount and quality of the fucking she received. My mind played over her mouth and I could imagine it opened slightly, mouthing the sounds of a woman bathed in lust. With such thoughts playing about my mind, the heavy clothes she wore seemed to melt about her and in my mind's eye she sat naked before me, the brilliant reflection of the sun on the snow enobling her fair skin, causing contours to reveal themselves, colors to jump richly to life.

Her eyes turned toward me in my reverie and beckoned me to join her in her nakedness. I needed no further prodding and smoothly glided to her side where I too was naked beside her. I was standing near enough to feel the warmth of her body radiating between us. A flush crossed her chest; was it a momentary flash of modesty, or perhaps a rush of passion? I noticed the light pink crests of her nipples, jutting proudly, awash in the blue-light of the sun reflected off the snow and deduced passion - passion in her breathing, her glance, and her smooth hands that sampled the suddenly fiery flesh of my hips. She was pulling me toward her. With me standing and her sitting, my cock was at the perfect height for her to perform a sexual oratory and I was certainly straining to hear what she had to say.

And oh, how sweet the words as her tounge spoke volumes along the length of my pulsing shaft, urging me to ever-more dangerous heights. The world around me fell away and I focused on her mouth, that mouth from which I had yet to hear a single utterance of vowel, but to which I now gave my full attention. My fingers entwined in her hair and my breath caught in my throat while her exquisite act continued in earnest. I thought how coffee had never smelled quite so good before!

I watched her slide my length from her mouth and look up into my eyes with a sort-of lopsided grin of pure lust. I held her face in my hands and moved down to meet that mouth with mine in a kiss of fiery passion, a kiss meant to convey the heat she had provided me with her oral ministrations. With a move that was filled with deliberate smoothness, she swiveled on the chair to open her shapely legs and position her sex near the edge of the seat. In the same move, her hands, which had moved to the sides of my head, pushed me downward past her attentive nipples, past her smooth belly, past the tangled curl of nether-down and between her silken thighs to her waiting rose, flowering unabashed - glistening lewdly and urging me for a kiss. I hungrily aquiesced, tasting, teasing, flicking and laving all that was hers. It was my tounge's turn to ballet across her stage with calculated precision, on "point" as she moaned for release and I gave it to her.

As she sat sighing in the snowy sunlight, I glanced at the other tables in the room. The occupants were somehow unaware of our indiscretion. The coffee-jerk behind the counter unconcernedly served a businessman a latte as I bent my fantasy over the small coffee table, making her surrender herself to me with her breasts crushed against the faux-marble tabletop, her exquisite ass beneath my hands as I slid deep inside her. Her deep moan should have aroused any ear that heard us, but the patrons continued in their caffiene-enhanced lives as I drove into her over and over again. Her mouth uttered words only those ensnared by passion could understand and they drove me further, harder into her. She was rising on her toes as we both strained for release - her crisis coming moments after my own cataract of pleasure.

I collapsed across her body, noticing small beads of perspiration on her shoulders that reflected the snowy scene outside the window by which shoppers passed unseeing. We untangled slowly and locked in a kiss that conveyed our appreciation for each other's unchecked passions. Dressing was awkward, but necessary.

She finished her coffee as a friend joined her at her table and I whispered a soft goodbye to my fantasy woman as I brushed out of the coffee shop into the chilly morning.