Summer Daze

Bobby leaned tiredly against the wall of the elevator as he waited for it to arrive at his floor. The bell rang, the doors slid open, and he walked around the corner. There she was, sitting on the floor and leaning against his door.

Her hair was piled on her head in a messy bun and varied in shades of red from very cherry to deep burgundy. Her head was slightly tilted in thought as she worked the crossword puzzle in his copy of the New York Times. A pale blue bubble appeared between ruby red lips and disappeared just as quickly when she shifted her leg to support the paper and leaned forward to write an answer.

“Hi.” He said as he approached her.

Summer looked up and smiled brightly, “Hey, there you are.” She accepted the offer of his hand and let him help her to her feet, “Took you long enough. Is Gotham safe for another day?”

Bobby chuckled and looked at his feet, “Y-yes.” He peeked at her from the corner of his eye with a shy smile, “Um…what are you doing here?”

“I brought your shirt back.” She replied, pointing to her ever present guitar case leaning next to his door.

“Oh…uh…okay…good” he nodded, “Th-thanks.”

Her eyes sparkled with amusement at his shyness, “So, are you going to ask me in or are we going to stand here in the hall all night?”

“I-I can’t.” he said softly.

“Can’t…or won’t?” Summer challenged, still smiling.

Bobby sighed and looked at her, almost painfully, “Can’t…y-you know why…we’ve…um…already talked about this.”

“So we can’t sit and talk? I never said I wanted to do anything more than that…”she teased.

He studied the floor and shuffled his feet. How a man over six feet tall could look so small and helpless was beyond Summer’s understanding. She wanted to hold him and kiss his forehead and tell him everything would be alright.

“I do.” He spoke so softly that his words were barely audible.

Summer did what she always did when she wasn’t sure what to do; she made a joke. “Right here in the hallway?!? Wow, not my usual thing…but okay…You’re more adventurous than I thought.”

“Summer!” he looked stricken at the thought.

She giggled and stepped forward, twining her arms around his waist and laying her chin flat against his chest so that she could look up, up, up into those beautiful chocolate brown eyes. “It’s okay.” She soothed, “I’m kidding…So, once you’ve found Star’s killer, maybe you’d be interested?”

“I-I’m interested now…” he whispered.

She hugged him tighter, feeling his hardness through their clothing, “I can tell…” she smirked. “But you want to do the right thing…I get it…You know, patience has never been my strongest virtue, but for you, I’ll wait.”

“Thank you.” He breathed.

Summer released him and grabbed her guitar case, “I’ll see you around.” She said as she started back down the hall toward the elevator, “Get to work, Detective.” At the corner she stopped and looked back at him, “I mean it…Hurry up.”

Bobby smiled as she disappeared from view. He heard the ‘ding’ of the elevator and the metallic rattle of its doors opening. “Wait!” he called after her… “My shirt…” but it was too late. She was gone.

He picked up the newspaper that his whirlwind had dropped near the door and went inside. He mechanically performed his evening routine, changing clothes and putting things away. Summer would not leave his mind.

Instead of climbing onto his treadmill, he sat down on the couch and breathed deeply. The scent of her was still in his nostrils, clean and sharp like freshly mowed grass with the barest hint of musk underneath. The arousal he felt in the hallway refused to dissipate and instead became an ever more insistent erection.

He lay his head back and closed his eyes as images of Summer; naked, beautiful, free, and laughing; danced through his brain. Almost without conscious thought, his hand traveled beneath the waistband of his clothing. Memories and imaginings swirled through his mind on a wind that hummed a now familiar and maddeningly untitled tune. Kisses, caresses, they way she seemed to fit so perfectly in his arms, sitting on his lap here on this very sofa as he stumbled and stuttered through asking her to love him. The smile on her lips, the answer in her eyes.

Had he really used those words, ’Love me?’…had he meant only physically?...Or had he been asking for more? For that which had forsaken him in his dysfunctional childhood and in the girlfriends who never understood and, in the end, always left? Had she taken his request to heart?

His fingers stilled for a moment on his cock at the recollection. He'd barely been able to contain the joy he'd experienced when she'd welcomed his advances. As he'd entered her lovely body, his heart had been soaring. He'd hidden it scrupulously, had even tried to hide it from himself. It was heart-wrenching, but necessary. Love and law enforcement was a difficult mix. For Bobby Goren, it was more difficult than most.

But here, alone in his apartment where wishes could take on a reality of sorts, he allowed himself what he denied in the outside world. Here in his imagination, his naked adorable Goddess sank to her knees before him and took his heavy flesh between her sweet ruby lips. Here, it was okay to give in to his every whim. To grasp her head, fingers twining themselves into her sensuous exotic hair as he thrust with abandon into the warmth and wetness of her mouth. Here, it was okay to fuck that beautiful mouth, to possess that loving, accommodating deity and empty his load right down her throat.

His voice was a ragged, falling cry of longing as his phantom Goddess let her lips and tongue glide smoothly back and forth along his engorged penis. His heart skipped a beat as he imagined…remembered...her gentle yet exhilarating touch on his flesh and the way she had unerringly targeted the sweetest and most sensitive spots. Humming. She was humming that strange tune and, suddenly, the title no longer mattered.

"Summer," he cried out, the single word was a sound of worship, of desperation and of resignation as his mind and body exploded in orgasm.