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Because I felt. nothing. I grabbed my coat and keys then went outside. Sitting on the stoop to the apartment complex, I wrapped my arms around my knees to fend off the chill that set in the moment my butt hit the concrete.
Caressing my arm, breast, hip, thigh. Intentionally distracting me. I shoved on his right shoulder. "What's wrong?" "Shh.
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"Fuck, Holly," he panted. His fingers flexed again then loosened a little. "That feels so good. " I hummed and twisted my hand, keeping the friction to a minimum.
But I'd not imagined this. After four hours of the noise and being hit at least a dozen times by random ladies' purses while they adjusted the weight of their purchases as they shuffled by, I would have gladly traded this job for a fish market. At least the fish didn't bicker about getting a lower discount than advertised, or that so-and-so was already out of whatever it was in the flyer and it was only nine o'clock. The complaining voices were almost as bad as the feeling of claustrophobia that started to set in the longer I stood in one place.
Looking up occasionally did help.