A little touch

The tramp’s voice came out low, almost breaking with disbelief.

“Can I… can I touch you? I don’t believe you’re real.”

Emma’s heart gave a sharp kick. For a split second she hesitated, then her eyes slid to Mark.

Mark dragged a hand down his face and sighed, muttering, “Alright. But somewhere more discreet.”

Emma’s pulse leapt. She nodded, gathered the edge of her coat, and the three of them moved out of the station, slipping down a side street until they found a narrow, shadowed alley. The air smelled of damp stone and old rubbish, but Emma barely noticed. Her skin was already prickling with adrenaline.

She stopped near the wall and, with a deliberate calm that betrayed her racing heart, slipped off her coat and lowered her dress. She handed both neatly to Mark and then laced her fingers behind her head, her body arching slightly as she presented herself.

Her voice came soft but firm, carrying in the still air.

“Okay. You’ve got two minutes. Touch me wherever you want.”

The tramp froze, his eyes wide, his breath rattling. He turned helplessly toward Mark.

Mark gave another long suffering sigh and gestured loosely. “Go on, then. The clock’s ticking.”

That was all the permission he needed. The tramp stepped closer, trembling hands rising. His gloves were rough against Emma’s bare skin as they cupped her breasts, tugging at her hard nipples. A gasp escaped her throat, the sensation so sharp, so unexpected, it stole her balance for a moment.

Then his hands moved lower. Across her belly, over her hips, down between her thighs. His fingers pressed against her wet slit, pulling her open and clumsily pushing inside her, rough and dirty, and Emma’s knees almost buckled. He was rough, his dirty fingers not used to touching a woman's most intimate area. She braced herself against the wall, her body betraying her with a rush of liquid.

Every part of her was alive with contrast the filth of his touch against the smoothness of her skin, the stench of whisky and grime against the freshness of night air. It should have repulsed her. Instead, it thrilled her.

She let her eyes fall shut, drinking in the forbidden intensity of the moment, aware of Mark’s silent presence watching from only a few feet away.

And still she thought, I want more.