The Woman Of His Dreams

Published July 18, 2013 by M E McMahon

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I looked up and there she was, the woman of my dreams, buying a ticket for the last show of the evening.

I straightened my tie, brushed a hand through my hair and prayed to the Gods above that she loved popcorn.  Standing behind the concession stand, with shaking hands and my hormones raging, I silently whispered, “please, please, please come over here.”

She looked like Angelina Jolie with her silky midnight black hair reaching down to land on the top of a most awesome derriere.  Her pale, green blouse was buttoned just enough to satisfy the censors but low enough to stir any man’s loins. The long thin strap of a black purse crisscrossed her ample breasts and a gossamer black scarf was wrapped around her perfectly tapered neck like a gentle caress. She wore a short black skirt, slit on both sides under which her long, perfectly shaped legs played peek-a-boo with each gentle sway of her hips.

I glanced behind her to see if she was with anyone, but the theater lobby appeared to be ours, and ours alone to share.  For the first time, I was glad to be alone behind the concession stand as I wanted to enjoy the sight of this stunning woman without interruption.

I saw Mitzi, the ticket seller and my long-time girlfriend, put the “Closed” sign up in the window of her booth.  She left the cubicle with the night’s proceeds and headed for the office.  “Hey, Sean, once the movie ends, make sure you bring your tray into to the office.  I want to count it and get out of here as soon as we can.” She frowned when she saw the object of my lustful gaze, shook her head and stomped into the office.

I nodded and said, “Okay, Mitzi,” without taking my eyes off the goddess heading in my direction.  As I heard the door to the office slam, I felt a slight twinge of guilt over the desire I felt for this woman when my girlfriend was just on the other side of that door.  The slam told me that my rapt attention that was focused on the woman and not on Mitzi had not gone unnoticed.  I knew that I would be punished for my wandering eyes but at that moment, I was willing to pay any price to spend the next few minutes soaking in the beauty of this extraordinary woman.

I watched the tall beauty walk towards me and I saw the strides she took spoke of experience; this was no teenager, this woman had enticed and conquered men in the past but her beauty would endure to trap many more of my gender in the future.  She reached the counter, placed her hands on the glass candy display and I watched as she took a long sultry look at the selection of sweets inside.

“Do you see anything you like?” I asked, embarrassed by the squeak in my voice.  At nineteen, my vocal chords were still hanging on to the preadolescent timbre that had plagued my youth and made my speech sound like a human version of Mickey Mouse.

She lifted her head and I gazed in her clear azure blue eyes and I was lost in a vision of soft sand, an emerald blue ocean, a blanket and this woman naked next to me.  She stuck out a soft pink tongue and ran it across her pouty lips and purred, “Yes.”  Her smokey voice stroked every nerve in my body and I feared that my pants were going to burst trying to hold in the effect she was having on my manhood.  “I could just die for some popcorn.”  She gave me a slow, inviting smile and took a deep sexy breath.

“Would you like some hot oil on your popcorn?”  I said.

She raised one eyebrow and gave a throaty laugh.  “Oil?” She looked at me and I felt the heat rise from my neck to the top of my head when I realized I my gaffe.

“I mean butter.  Would you like some hot butter on your popcorn?”

“Yes, my handsome young man, butter would be divine.  I like to use oil for many things but butter seems to work best on my popcorn.”  She grinned as if to let me know that she knew I was picturing her at that moment naked and covered with oil.

I turned and prayed that this gorgeous woman wouldn’t notice the party that was going on in my pants and walked to the popcorn machine.  I filled the cardboard container with the cooked kernels and slathered them with butter.  I walked back to the woman and asked “Would you like something to drink with this?”

“Oh, honey, I’d love a cocktail right now, but I hate to drink alone and I’m sure you’re employer would not appreciate me stealing you away from your duties.”  She winked and said, “Just the popcorn will be fine.  How much do I owe you?”

I watched as she lifted the strap of the purse off of her shoulder and laid it on the counter.  As she snapped it open, she nudged the popcorn container with her elbow, spilling the contents on the lobby floor.

“Oh dear. Look at the mess I’ve made. Here, I’ll pick it up.”

I rushed around the counter, grabbing a broom and dustpan on my way, excited that I would be able to get closer to the woman of my dreams.  When I reached the front of the counter, she was kneeling on the floor and trying to capture the renegade kernels.  “Here, I’ll get that cleaned up.” I said.

“Well, the least I can do is help.” She replied.  I knelt down to her level and was rewarded with a up close and personal view of her breasts.  With my eyes glued to her cleavage, I blindly reached out to scoop up the popcorn.

She noticed the direction of my stare and smiled knowingly.  “Do you like what you see, my friend?”

“Oh yes, very much.” I blurted out.

“Hmm…well once we have this cleaned up, perhaps we can get better acquainted.  But, first, I’d like you to meet a friend of mine.”

Friend? Confused, I raised my head and glanced around, worried that I had missed her escort by focusing only on her.

I never saw the gun she held in her hand until I felt the sharp pressure on my side. I turned my head back to her and watched in horror as the scarf drifted off her shoulder and exposed her Adam’s Apple.

“Now, my young man, this is what we’re going to do.  You’re going to get your tray from the cash register and we’re going to go to the office to meet Mitzi. “

As we headed to the office, I heard the muffled laughter from the moviegoers inside the theater..they didn’t realize they were missing the real comedy that was being played out in the lobby. They didn’t know that the laugh was on me.

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15 comments on “The Woman Of His Dreams

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