The rain poured down as if it wanted to flood the world and clean it from its sins, and Ellen looked out of the window trying to discern the figures on the street below and, among them, the guy working at the flower shop.

Ellen was used to buying flowers in that small shop because the old lady owner had seen her grow up and had always been very sweet to her. But a couple of months before she had been hospitalised and the shop had been taken over by her young nephew, Derek.

And from the day she had entered the shop and met him, she had fallen in love with his brown eyes, his olive skin, his low voice and his polished manners.

She could see him working under the shop canopy most of the day, selling such beautiful flower bouquets that only the sweetest guy on Earth could compose. Ellen knew it: he was, she thought, the right guy for her.

Shivers run all over her body when she put a hand on the window and touched the cold glass. She drew a heart around him on the condensation and continued looking at him, framed inside her love cage.

She imagined his muscular arms holding her. She imagined his kisses on her neck, his hands roaming over her body, his breath on her skin. And one of her hands slid down her stomach, between her legs, and reached her mound. Then a finger found its way to the most sensitive of her spots and she began to touch herself. She was wet, ready for a man that didn’t even know she was there, adoring him.

Eventually, that could have happened. Eventually, Derek could be the one touching her body in the same way she was, and his finger would be the one rubbing her clit and his fingertips the ones sliding in and out of her pussy, pulling her lips apart.

Eventually. If she only had a little more courage.

Ellen stared at that man moving in and out of the sketched heart and raised her pace. The darkness of the thick clouds, the noise of the rain against the window and the incessant ticking of the rain drops isolated her from the rest of the world. There were only she and him, and her orgasm approaching. Her head spun, her legs trembled and a slow wave of pleasure gripped her mind and her body until the only thing she could feel was the cold glass against her forehead and her heavy breathing.

Ellen opened her eyes and looked out of the window. Her breath had cancelled the heart. Now, Derek was only a blurred figure moving in and out of the shop, unaware of her attentions. A figure that could have been anyone.

Or maybe, eventually, someone.