Susannah Indigo - Readerotica vol.1

"May I help you?" She looked a bit wary at my silence, probably from having seen her share of perverts admiring the window display.

Yes, I thought. You can tell me exactly how many inches of thigh are bare between your stocking tops and your hem. Or you could just let me measure with my hands.

Instead I muttered dumbly, "Hello. I see your dildo has disappeared."

She laughed. "Yes." She looked me up and down, and I could feel her taking in my three-piece suit and my monogrammed briefcase.

"You're a lawyer?" she asked.

Man, I hate that it shows. The worst part is that it shows even when I'm in jeans. It's been killing me for fifteen years now. I once dreamed of being a great writer, saving the world with my journalistic exposes on the way to glory. I think I was afraid, and law school seemed a safer bet. I made up the excuse for myself that a legal education would help with my dreams. But it's difficult to save the world when you ride the train and kiss ass to rich people all day long.

"Yeah, I'm a lawyer." I wanted to take this Allegra in my arms and run off to a new life. Either that or just bend her over the bakery counter and pull down her panties and kiss her from her stocking tops up to her ass.

"I have problems," she said with a frown. It was really more of a perfect pout.

Problems were my life. Just once I wished a client could prance into my office and tell me they needed me even though they had no problems. But problems involving pretty girls and missing chocolate dildos at least seemed interesting.

I checked my watch and made the decision that would affect the rest of my life. "Tell me what happened. A burglary?"

"Come on in the back," she replied. I followed the swaying skirt through the rear door.

"I'm Bret, by the way. Bret Dublin." She shook my hand and I never wanted to let go. "Where's your boss today?"

She lifted her cute ass up onto a desk and laughed at me. "My boss? You've watched me every day through that window and you thought he was my boss?"

Stupid didn't quite describe my feeling. "He's not?"

"You gotta' watch those stereotypes, Mr. Dublin. I own The Chocolate Dream. Zach is an artist that does work for me. He was one of my teachers in art school."

She flipped on the radio to a beautiful rendition of Sarah Vaughan moaning about 'ain't misbehavin, savin' all my love for you. So I asked Allegra to dance. I don't know what I was doing dancing this young woman around the back room of a bakery when I should have been at my desk meeting old Mrs. Carey to discuss how to safeguard the millions from her estate, but there I was. And she was with me all the way. Fred and Ginger. Or maybe I just dreamed it.

"Tell me about what you do, Allegra." I know I was at least much closer to her, like up on her desk with my thigh pressing against her bare one while I surveyed her high-tech back office. A couple of computers in one corner and a constantly buzzing fax in the other implied a little more business going on than just wedding cakes.

"Ah, Bret, I make dreams come true. Of the chocolate variety. Most of my business is mail order — custom chocolates for any occasion."

Have I mentioned I love chocolate? Allegra was talking about chocolate dreams like they mattered, and I vaguely remembered having my own dreams once.

"Marry me, Allegra."

"What?"

"Marry me and give me back my dreams. I'll solve all your problems."

Some girls would have walked away. Allegra hugged me. And then she told me I was crazy.

"Come see the kitchen, Bret baby."

I knew I could fall deeply in lust, or even love, with a woman who would call me "baby" ten minutes after she'd met me. I put my arm around her waist and she didn't take it away. Visions of bare thighs coated in melted chocolate filled my mind as I followed her to the kitchen.

Candy molds were everywhere. Sports shapes, holiday symbols, and every erotic image possible. Dildos, cocks, nipples, pussies, couples intertwined, little handcuffs, and slinky gartered legs.

"We make everything here. I've never turned down an order. I just call Zach and he fires up a mold in his studio. People love the sexy chocolates the best.”

"So, what happened?"

"It's a long story. It started when I got a letter from that 'Moral Superiority' group. You know, the ones with their noses in everyone else's business? Come home with me tonight and I'll tell you the rest."

Waves of lust overtook me as I sat in Allegra's kitchen and watched her at the stove. I wrapped my arms around her waist and pressed up against her while she talked and cooked.

"So," she said, pressing back against me and letting me pour wine from my glass into her beautiful mouth. "The letter comes in one day. It says that city laws prohibit pornography businesses within 700 yards of houses, schools, or churches. We're downtown, right? And there are no churches within three blocks. But it turns out that almost empty building on the corner with a couple of little shops upstairs used to have a small private school on the ground floor, and is still licensed for it. Now, I don't think I traffic in pornography, I traffic in food and dreams. But it scared me enough to take down the display and start worrying about the back room chocolate-toy business. They just want to shut me down."

"Hmmm, " I answered with my lips heading down to her bare neck, "You do need my help."

She turned and kissed me. "I do."

"But," she added, "I asked my own business lawyer and he just said that technically they're right, and I should take away all visible signs of anything anyone could consider obscene. I've never had one single complaint about my shop from anyone before this. People love the display."

"Why do you think I can do anything for you, Allegra?" I knew exactly what I could do for her, and I wanted to do it right there on the kitchen floor.

"Truth?"

"Of course."

"Because every day when I watched you watch me through the window, I thought you looked like a man with imagination. I always wondered who you were. And what your hands would feel like on my bare skin."

Love. This couldn't be just lust. My hands traveled quickly to her ass and cupped it and lifted her up toward me. "Turn off the stove, Allegra."

She obeyed and turned back to me and I lifted her up and wrapped her legs around my waist. I kissed her deeply and spun her around, ending up by her big black leather sofa. I whispered what I wanted while I started to unbutton her blouse. "I want to bend you over the back of this sofa, baby, lift your skirt, and spend all night traveling from your toes right up to your heart."

She kissed me softly and said, "No, Bret baby. Not yet."

I knew what she wanted. I had listened to her story about how her grandfather opened his bakery in this building in 1925, and how it was failing when Allegra took it over from her mother. This location was her life. She lived above the shop in a refurbished loft and planned to stay there forever.

I stayed awake at night searching for a solution. I knew they would frown on pro bono work for dildos in my office.

Allegra made me dinner every night for a week, and we talked about what she could do to fend off the problem. She lit candles and played soft jazz and she put her hand on my thigh during dinner and said, "I know you can figure it out."

She was a tease, this Allegra, but an honest one. The night I came up with the absurd yet creative idea about how to hide the erotic chocolates as religious symbols she offered to show me what a woman could do with a chocolate dildo. She raised her skirt and leaned back against the pillows on the floor and spread her legs. I watched from the sofa above as she teased herself with a chocolate dildo that closely resembled my own hard cock. When she slid the chocolate into her pussy I felt like a teenager about to come in my pants.