Erotic – Hot Stories

June 7, 2010

Erotic Hot Stories – A Strange Seduction

The last rays of dusk had passed and the long shadows of darkness were settling themselves around the room as I sat on the couch and let the strains of my favorite CD wash over me. I drained the last dregs of my third glass of wine and shook my head cynically. Who would’ve ever believed I’d find myself drinking alone on Valentine’s Day swept up in a morass of unresolved emotions over my failed relationship?

Truthfully, Valentine’s Day had never ever been much of a big deal for me. Maybe I was just too much of a practical down-to-earth kind of girl. I’d always found it to be a day that typically raised all kinds of unrealistic expectations with the stores brimming with pink satin, red velvet hearts and love paraphernalia. And then of course, the biggest contradiction of all was the lingerie and chocolates! I mean, indulging in one meant steering well clear of the other.

Anyway, from my experience, most of the men I’d known hated buying that stuff, hated the pressure of having to make a big deal out of the day, hated having to play at being romantic over a delicately prepared dinner and being thoughtful on cue when they’d rather be eating a good steak, having a beer and getting down and dirty later. God, I sounded sour but I guess being alone on Valentine’s Day after losing my lover two weeks back had probably brought an extra edge of bitterness to the whole hearts and candy affair.

I wiped the beginning of a tear away furiously. Enough was enough! No more pathetic whining and self pity. He was gone. The pain still cut like a sabre through me but it was over. I’d throw the shirts he’d left in the laundry basket out with the trash in the morning and move on with my life. Two weeks of grieving and moping about was enough, but I’d hoped the wine would help to bring some relief from the tension and angst I’d been feeling. It hadn’t and I knew there was only one solution left. I needed to get off. An orgasm always relaxed me.

A fortnight without release was unusual for me but I’d not been in the mood. Every time the thought occurred to me, I’d be overwhelmed with the craving for his closeness, the warmth and heat as he slipped his hardness into me and the completion that always came with our coupling. He had walked away from what we had dammit, but I couldn’t help still wanting him.

I headed for the bedroom and caught sight of myself in the mirror as I shrugged off my clothes. Despite my gloom I was still what would be considered pretty. Not exactly the type a model agency would sign up but my dark curly hair fell softly around my shoulders and when my eyes weren’t red rimmed they were a deep green that sparkled when I laughed. I stripped off the blue jeans that clung to my long legs and mused at how lucky I was to still have a decent body given my tendency to occasionally binge on pizza and Chinese takeouts.

With my eyes closed, I lay on the bed and slowly began to stroke my breasts letting the tips of my fingertips tease the hardening nipples. Almost immediately dampness welled up in my pussy and I let my mind drift to a real nice place where I could believe that love and hope and passion were still there to reach for. Playing with my nipples was a sure fire way to get me aroused and I lowered my hand to the moistness between my thighs and stroked myself. Two fingers slid through the juice of my lust, parting the swollen pouty lips and dipped into the pooling wetness of my cunt.

In the background the phone rang and I plunged another finger inside myself. Whoever was calling could fucking wait, I was not letting go of this. Inside my pussy the three fingers stretching me were doing their work. I arched my back and thrust myself against my hand, imagining it was him. In the eye of my mind I could see his face just inches from mine, the fire in his eyes as he drove deeper and deeper into my pussy. A groan ripped from me as I recalled the way he panted with pleasure when my pussy clamped around him and he neared his moment, the smell of his musky maleness wetting my skin and the guttural sounds of his joy as he peaked.

God, I was almost there. Almost. Close. So close. The mountain of sensation grew, reaching for the peak that would burst in blissful joy. I panted as I felt my body shudder towards it. Sweat rolled down the cleavage of my breasts and the crack of my ass as I strained against my fingers that were relentlessly fucking the steaming cauldron between my thighs. The first rush of what would explode into ecstasy started somewhere in the pit of my belly and radiated out in hot waves pushing the breath from my body. I moaned and grunted rocking against my hand. My mind willed me on, frantic now on the edge of release.

The shrill sound of the phone echoed through the room shattering my concentration.

“Shit! Fuck!” I screamed in frustration as the peaking pleasure slipped from my grasp. “Oh God, nooo,” I moaned as the muscles in my abdomen quivered with tension, still desperate for orgasm. It had always been so easy to come with him.

The ringing ceased and almost immediately started up again. I grabbed the phone off the bedside table.

“Yes, dammit!” My voice was muffled, still thick with desire.

“Christ, Lucy these are the most screwed up directions, you’ve ever given me,” a strange male voice said. A note of irritation dripped from his tone, “I’ve been driving around for an hour and I still can’t find your place. Care to-“

“Excuse me,” I snapped, “There is no Lucy here. Never has been, never will be!” I was seething with annoyance and bordering on breathless rage. Whoever he was, he’d picked the wrong fucking minute to dial my number the first time he called and then he still had the gall to call again. I wanted to tell him his fucking fortune and then slam the phone down so loudly in his ear that it hurt. Asshole!

“Shit, I’ve got the wrong number, haven’t I? She actually gave me the wrong number, I can’t believe it!” I heard a loud thump and assumed he had slammed his hand down on the steering wheel. “Christ I should have known better than to get sucked in by her again. This is yet another one of her stupid mind games.”

I swallowed my retort as I listened to him. Despite the cutting edge to his words, his voice was smooth and deep. “I’m sorry to have disturbed you,” he said in a warm apologetic tone, “It sounded like I might have woken you.”

I struggled to catch my breath. It was my turn to speak, to say something, to confirm that he had indeed dialed the wrong number and then to hang up, but inexplicably I didn’t want to. The throbbing between my legs had intensified and my hand dipped into my pussy again. “It’s okay, I wasn’t sleeping,” I said as I choked back a groan of pleasure.

“Yeah well I shouldn’t have called anyway, even if it was her number,” he said bitterly. “It was a stupid whim to have tried to see her, what with it being Valentine’s Day and all.”

I impaled myself on my fingers and let my thumb slide over my clit as he rattled on. God, his voice was so good, so masculine. I needed him to keep talking. I bit my lip to cover the purring sounds in my throat and shut my eyes to block out everything but his voice. The rich male baritone continued, “…anyway this has been a good wake up call for me. I should have read the signs a month ago when she left me saying that she needed space and moved in with a friend.”

“A month ago huh?” I said my voice thick with arousal. “Too bad. Maybe she’s with my boyfriend. He left two weeks ago.”

“Hmmm, great month for relationships,” he mused. “Like I said, I’m sorry for bothering you. I’m sure you’ve got more important things to do than listen to a stranger’s sob story. Sounds like you have one of your own and I didn’t mean to interrupt whatever it was you were doing.”

I shifted on my bed trying to escape the pleas from my wetly stimulated body. It was time to hang up and finish what I had started, but there was this voice on the line that I somehow didn’t want to let go. He was in much the same situation as I was; alone on Valentine’s Day and still raw from the emotional aftermath of a broken relationship.

“Yeah,” I said hoarsely, “I was thinking about him when you interrupted…” I couldn’t believe I’d said it. It wasn’t so much the words but the inference. He knew what I was talking about. I sensed he understood perfectly well what I’d been doing. The arousal in my voice must have been a dead giveaway. It was as loud and as clear as a cat’s mating call.

He inhaled sharply, “Yeah, I know about those kinds of thoughts. I have them occasionally,” he said softly. The loneliness and hunger screamed from his tone and struck a chord with me. At least we understood each other.

“I’m in Milner Drive, where are you now?” The words spilled from my lips as if they had a mind of their own.

“Kingsway Avenue. Why?” He’d asked the question, but I couldn’t help but think it was rhetorical.

“That’s two blocks away,” I said huskily. “I’m in the third house from the corner if you want to stop by for coffee or something…” Jesus, what was I thinking; inviting a complete stranger into my home when coffee was the last thing on my mind. The throbbing heat between my legs had not cooled during our conversation. If anything the aching was more intense.

“I don’t know,” he answered drawing in an uneasy breath. “The way I’m feeling right now I probably won’t be much of a conversationalist with a woman tonight. My intentions around seeing her this evening weren’t exactly without selfish motive or even honorable…” He gave a wry laugh, “But I’ve got your number now, so maybe some other time?”

“I’m not feeling too talkative myself, so don’t worry about that,” I countered, dangling my offer in front of him like bait. “But if you change your mind it’s number six Milner Drive. I thought we could… keep each other from thinking too much tonight.”

“You’re making it difficult for me to refuse.” His voice had dropped to a low sexy drawl. “Yours wouldn’t be the white house with the green roof and the bay windows, would it? I’ve just pulled up outside.”

Reality set in quickly with his last words and I hung up the phone, grabbed my robe and rushed to the window. I tried to steady my breathing. This was total insanity; he could be anyone, dangerous even; a perverted sex fiend or a violent rapist. My mind raced even as I felt the first flicker of fear mingle with the liquid tide of hormones between my thighs. Shit, the way I was feeling right now, nobody would have to force me too much. But still, I wasn’t the kind of woman who invited strange men over.

Dammit, was I really this desperate? Maybe he would go away. I didn’t have to actually open the door and he’d get the hint and leave. At this point it could still just be a bad idea and not a serious regret. But my curiosity got the better of me. I inched the drapes aside and peered out at him standing on the curb next to his car in the dim light of the streetlamp. He ran his hand through his hair and stared at the house as if deciding whether he should venture up the driveway towards the front door.

From what I could see he was tall and well built without being overly muscular. His shoulders shifted in the loose leather jacket as he reached back into the car to retrieve something. From the distance I was, and the way he was positioned, I couldn’t make out his features and even if I could, it wouldn’t have made him less of a stranger. Maybe it was the wine I’d consumed. Perhaps it was just because I was so fucking tired of feeling miserable and alone. Maybe it was simply because it was Valentine’s Day and there was supposed to be passion and excitement in the air, I don’t know, but I acted completely out of character. A wave of recklessness washed over me as I walked straight to the front door and opened it just as he reached the doorstep.

Seeing him up close took my breath away. He was dark like a Brando biker with short well cut hair and a craggy face that pushed the word attractive to breaking point. His nose had been broken at least once and reset, but it was far from perfect and his grey eyes were big and inquisitive. They moved fast for their size, like a couple of quick boxers around a small ring. He looked like a tough guy and as if he ought to be dirty but I could see that he was scrupulously clean. Looking at a man’s hands was something I always did, and his fingers and nails were immaculate.

“Hi,” he said. “I’m Edward.” He reached across and handed me a bunch of yellow roses. “Flowers by default,” he grinned, showing good white teeth. “Hope you don’t mind.”

He didn’t strike me as the flowers kind of guy, not even on Valentine’s Day. But he’d said he had plans for Lucy or whatever her name was, tonight. Stupid girl, her loss was my gain!

“Thanks,” I said reaching for the blooms and smiling. “I’m Rachel.” I tried to keep my tone purposefully casual to deny what we both knew.

His eyes slid over me and I felt suddenly naked and exposed. The silky white robe I’d thrown on hardly covered me. It rested against the top of my thighs and was casually tied at the waist but I knew that my dark nipples were probably clearly visible to his eyes. I stood frozen there for a moment.

“I… I guess I didn’t really think you’d show up,” I stammered.

“Let’s say I was curious. You have a sexy phone voice and when you invited me over, I thought I’d take a chance and see what was behind the voice.”

“Disappointed?” I asked feeling self conscious and terribly aware of his masculine presence.

“Quite the opposite,” he drawled as his eyes drilled into me. “But I can leave, if that’s what you want.” His mouth softened at the corners as he spoke but it was still hard as nails in the middle. Fuck, he was sexy and I felt the butterflies take off in my stomach. Leaving was the last thing I wanted him to do.

“No,” I replied a little too quickly. “What I’d like, is for you to come inside.”

“I’d love to come inside…” he said as he flashed me a knowing smile.

Jesus, talk about a bad choice of words! My face flushed and the heat raced through my stomach like it does after the first sips of whisky. The front door blew shut as we stepped into the house. I dropped the flowers on the table in the hallway and tried to steady my breathing, praying that my exhale would not come out as a shuddering moan of delicious anxiety. I was inches away from a stranger and my desire for him was inexplicable, something I couldn’t begin to understand. He wanted me too, I was certain of that but there were manners, conventions, codes of conduct, things that were done and oh God, not done.

“I’ll get the coffee going and change-” I said huskily trying for some semblance of sense and decorum. “Take a seat,” I said gesturing to the living room, “I’ll be right back.”

“I’m not thirsty and what you’re wearing is fine,” His breath tickled my neck as he spoke and I shuddered in the muted light of the passage at the foot of the stairs He was following me. My heart hammered in my chest. I was afraid of what I wanted, and yet fearful that this frightening moment would pass.

My mouth was dry, but my heart was humming as the desire stewing between my legs threatened to overwhelm me. I tried to swallow but my saliva was gone. “Are you sure?” I croaked as I turned towards him flattening my back against the passage wall for safety and support.

There was sweat on his upper lip and moisture glistened in the chest hairs at the neck of his open shirt. I tried to lick at my lips as I waited for his answer, tried to smile at him as I anticipated his next move. But it was all too late. There were no manners left, no necessity for small talk. There was only naked need. Our hunger was frantic. His. Mine.

“Come here,” he whispered, pulling me towards him. He wrapped his arms around me like rope as his lips closed hungrily on mine. I kissed him back, my mouth open and wet, slippery with lust as our tongues slid together. The stubble of his beard rasped against my skin and I groaned in excitement as his lips consumed me. I wrestled his leather jacket off and let it drop to the floor. His cock still confined in his tight jeans pressed against me and I jammed my pelvis against him as my robe hiked up to expose my dripping pussy. He lowered his hand to my wetness and slipped his fingers through the matted hair into my pulsing heat.

“Oh God,” I moaned at the first delicious sensation of being touched. I drew my leg up to give him entry to my pussy and he fixed his eyes on me. They had taken on a faraway look but raw lust raged from them.

“Wait,” he groaned, moving me past him and onto the stairway. He urged me down so that I was sitting on the step that was third from the bottom and my face was line with his cock. It threatened to burst from the crushing denim fabric that was tautly stretched across it. I wanted it so badly. My mouth was watering. I needed to take his heat into my mouth and taste him. But he was in control. He sank to his knees, his eyes never leaving mine and positioned himself so he could spread my thighs open and lean in to taste me. His tongue lingered teasingly at the entrance to my swollen pussy lips and a groan of anticipation ripped from my throat when he finally plunged into the wet velvetness of my pussy.

He was a complete stranger and yet now he owned my intimacy. The realization shocked and excited me. His tongue explored with tenderness and then with passion as it slid through the folds and up to my clit. He licked and sucked it and then dipped his tongue back into my slit, pressing, drawing back, probing, driving me insane with feverish desire, making me gasp and grab at his hair as I tried to impale his tongue deep inside my cunt. I wrapped my thighs around his head and lifted up my ass to give him deeper access. “Oh Fuck,” I moaned as the sensations built. I could feel his tongue reaching deeper into me, his strong strokes exploring me. In, up higher then back to lap at my clit and all the way down my slit to the thin smooth strip that separated my pussy from my ass. For a second his tongue lingered and I knew instantly what was about to happen. He spread me wide open, and I lifted my butt off the step so that his tongue could slide between my buttocks. The thrill of indecent excitement shot through me as he pushed his tongue over the puckered ridge of my asshole and forced it inside. I screamed at the sensation and rocked against his tongue while I let my fingers slide over my clit. His movements speeded as he hungrily speared my ass.

“Oh fuck yess! Ooohh! ” I cried lost in the exquisite sensations. It was so nasty but so delicious. A moan bubbled from his throat as he replaced his tongue in my ass with a thick finger and resumed his skilled lapping and sucking of my clit, licking at my wet fingers and sweeping down into my pussy. A tight ball of ecstasy rushed from his tongue in my pussy to the drumming finger inside my ass and I bucked and reared like an animal riding his face like a saddle until the quake of pleasure crashed into me and swamped me in a storm of pure joy.

“Argghhh! God! ” I screamed as I gave myself over to orgasm. The muscles in my pussy and ass tightened and clenched around his marauding finger and tongue while juice spilled from me leaving its earthy animal scent lingering in the air above us. He moved his soaked face from between my thighs and unsteadily stood up leaning against the wall as he stripped off his sweat-soaked shirt.

“Thank you,” I gasped, still breathless. “It’s never been like that before.” He smiled and extended his hand to help me up. I felt so deliciously weak and shaky but I was still filled with the awareness of his diamond hard cock inside his jeans. “If we make it to the top of the stairs, there’s some unfinished business I want to attend to…”

By the time we reached the bedroom door, I had his jeans unbuttoned and my hand inside, reaching for him like a looter in a store, hurriedly grasping at the pulsing bulge so it wouldn’t escape from me. His cock reared against my hand pulsing like a heart as I pulled it free of its confines, and God, was he gloriously thick. My fingers were scarcely able to close around him. The taut skin of his cock was smooth and burning wet with his own excitement. He brushed against my tummy impatiently and my heart speeded up. My body was humming like a wire in the wind. I desperately wanted him inside me.

“Do it,” I groaned, “Fuck me, please.”

A slow smile spread over his face as he reached around and held the cheek of my ass, drawing my right leg up over his thigh as he guided himself to my entrance. Juice dripped from me in anticipation of the invasion and I gasped as he rubbed his cock head over my swollen lips.

For a millisecond the horror of unsafe sex crossed my mind. In a few minutes his sperm would be free inside me with all its dangers and secrets and frantic irresponsibility, but inexplicably the thought did not make me recoil. I realized with horror that this was exactly what I wanted. I’d always been so cautious, so responsible and now just once, with a desperation that bordered on the insane, I wanted to experience the basest sex of all with this strange man in my house on Valentine’s Day. I wanted to celebrate my lust and laugh in the face of lost love. I wanted to use the hugeness poling out of his jeans as a contraption for my pleasure and become a sex thing for him. For this night, I wanted to feel gloriously wantonly sexually alive.

My eyes must have screamed my thoughts because he bucked down and reared up invading me with a force that knocked the breath from my body. My feet flew off the floor and for a mind-bending second I hung there in space speared on his cock. One moment I was a void, achingly, agonizingly empty and then he was deep inside me stretching me, forcing my cunt to stretch open to take every rock hard inch of him.

“Ooohh,” I gasped as he split me wide open and reached beneath my ass to take my weight. His biceps strained and his knees buckled but he held me in front of him pressing me against the wall. He lifted me an inch or two higher as he drew his glistening meat out of me then let me down again to sink all the way to the base of him. Stars burst in my head at the depth of the penetration and the way his big cock head rammed into my core. I felt like I was being wrenched apart. My legs curled around him and I crossed my ankles in the small of his back to steady myself. There were beads of sweat on his lip as he carried me, still connected to him, to the bed where it had all begun with that phone call.

He thrust forward into me collapsing his body down onto me. The air rushed from my lungs as I clamped around him locking him in the hot whirlpool of my pussy. I kept my legs tightly hugged around him and dug my nails into his back.

‘Fuck me hard, please,” I moaned hungry for the friction and roughness of his lust. “Show me how much you want me.”

A guttural sound ripped from him as he drove back and forth fucking me in deep hard long strokes. “Jesus, you feel good,” he rasped, his breath coming in short, sharp pants. His mouth found my nipple and he latched onto it causing ripples of pleasure to race up my spine and explode in my already overloaded brain.

I groaned and twisted, writhing under him as the familiar twitches of pleasure began to grow again. Our hips slammed together and I ground my pubic bone hard up against him moaning loudly as the rhythmic spasms deep inside me built slowly and tripped over each other in quick tight convulsions that threatened to strangle him in the noose of my pussy. I shrieked with the intensity of my orgasm as a dam erupted in me. On and on it went, my quivering walls clutching at him and squeezing his steely hardness with the molten warmth flowing from inside me.

“Damn baby,” he screamed as his face contorted in a grimace of pure pleasure. “Fuck, oh fuck! God, I’m gonna come!” His hot breath fanned my face and his movements lost their coordination as his climax surged over mine. I felt his cock throb wildly as he spurted his release, spraying his cum in long ribbons deep inside me. My body rocked against his, wringing every drop of lust from him until he collapsed onto me. “Jesus,” he gasped breathlessly as his fingers traced along the sides of my body, “What a wrong number this was.”

I waited until our breathing had returned to normal and then eased myself out from under him. Satiated now, I was acutely aware again that he was a stranger.

“Should I make that coffee now, or maybe get you a drink…?” I said fumbling around for words.

He raised his head and fixed his eyes on me. “No, you don’t have to do that. I don’t want to make this any more awkward for you than it already is.”

“Awkward?” I said, trying to play it cool. “I think we passed awkward at the bottom of the stairs.”

He laughed and rolled towards me pulling me into his arms. I snuggled against his chest and inhaled his musky scent mingling with the aroma of our spent passion. “I guess, you’re right,” he replied. “But you were incredible and you saved me from being played for a fool tonight. There is something though that I am curious about,” he said sitting up and gazing intently down at me.

“What’s that?”

“If I called you again, would it be the right number?”

I took a deep breath and swallowed hard.

“Probably not,” I said softly not meeting his eyes. “Pining and falling into someone’s bed because of the end of one relationship isn’t exactly the best way to start another one.” It was time to move on with my life and I didn’t think a casual night of mind blowing sex with a stranger on Valentine’s Day qualified as the start of something new. “I’m sorry if that’s not what you wanted to hear.”

‘That’s okay, no pressure,” Edward said as he rolled off the bed. “I hope you find what you’re looking for and that things work out for you.” He buttoned up his jeans and reached for his shirt. “But if you change your mind and want to see me again, I can give you my number.”

What was I supposed to say? Would he think I was a slut if I told him I’d got what I wanted from him? That I’d stepped out of myself for one crazy night, lost myself in wanton passion but that fundamentally I was cautious and responsible, hoping to meet Prince Charming in some acceptable and conventional way. I watched him dress. “Ok, now I do feel awkward,” I said. “Are you simply trying to make me feel less guilty about tonight or do you really want me to call you?”

He shrugged as he buttoned up his shirt. “Would it matter if I did? It’s your choice. Remember, I said no pressure.” His lips curled in a half smile as he glanced passed me to the phone on the nightstand. “Serendipity, that’s what they call it, don’t they? Tonight was a fortunate accident, and who knows sweet Rachel, maybe we’ll see each other around sometime.” His grey eyes locked with mine, “Or maybe we won’t. Let’s leave it to chance. Stranger things have happened.”

I waited until I heard the front door close and his car start up before I headed down to the kitchen. The yellow roses on the table in the hall caught my attention. Propped up against them was a small business card. I read it and softly mouthed his full name then dropped it a drawer with a stash of take out menus and pizza delivery numbers. They were all numbers I used when my cravings needed to be satisfied. I shut the drawer and laughed with the exhilaration of my new found liberation and freedom. Edward was totally delicious, definitely better than chocolates could ever have been on Valentine’s Day and it couldn’t hurt to keep his number. After all, there were times when I might need a hot and fast delivery on demand.

END

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June 4, 2010

Erotic Hot Stories – A Simple Twist of Fate

Glen Thomkins smiled to himself as he stared at the screen of his computer monitor. The spell check function of his word processing program had just finished scanning his latest short story for the second time. This time it showed no errors. Glen double-checked the options on the Literotica Submit Page that he had selected. He clicked the Preview button, then after giving his story another quick read-through he submitted it for approval.

For just over a year Glen had been trying his hand at writing erotic short stories that were published online. He had read enough of them to be familiar with the tropes and machinations that many of his favourite authors used. And after reading enough of what he considered very poor attempts at writing he felt confident that he could do just as well — if not better than some. The story that Glen had just submitted was his eighth submission, and so far he was pleased that many of them had been well-liked by readers, judging by the positive feedback he had received. This was all the encouragement that he needed to keep writing. Besides, it filled a yearning or emptiness inside him that he could not quite intellectualize, but felt nonetheless.

Glen pushed himself away from his computer desk and went out to his kitchen. It was a Tuesday night and he had nothing to do now that he had submitted his latest story. He opened the fridge and ran his eyes over the contents of the shelves. After passing over a bottle of peach juice and one of Pepsi, he reached for a can of beer. It was nearly eleven-thirty and Glen thought that some beer might help him to sleep.

Returning to the living room, Glen tilted his head to the left and scanned the titles on the spines of his compact disc cases. A bittersweet smile appeared on his face when he saw Time Out of Mind. He pulled the jewel case out and placed the disc in the tray, then started it. He sat down on the couch and pulled at the tab of the beer can he was holding. It opened with a hiss and he took a gulp as he listened to Bob Dylan sing about being sick of love, yet in the thick of it.

“Amen, Zimmy,” Glen mumbled to himself as he brought the can back up to his snarling lips. He closed his damp eyes and began singing along to the music as his mind wandered back four years into the past.

###

Glen knew from experience that it took about four days for a story he submitted to Literotica to be approved. As the fourth day approached he always grew impatient to see his newest piece of writing appear on the web page. Then came the anticipation of feedback from readers. Often it was terse, but encouraging, although some of it had helpful criticism. Glen read them all and replied to all readers who provided an email address for him to contact them. To Glen, this was an integral part of contributing to the website. He had even made a few online friends as a result of it.

That Friday when he arrived home from work at Weaver’s Hardware Store Glen immediately went to his computer. He booted it up and smiled proudly when he saw that his story was listed amongst the new ones on Literotica. He quickly scanned it, then clicked one of the gold stars to rate it — giving it a 5 like he always did, and hoped others would. Next, he checked his Hotmail account to see if he had received any feedback.

When Glen saw that he had received three pieces of feedback on his story he smiled. The first reader chose to remain anonymous, so Glen couldn’t reply. The second person had given his name and email address. Glen saved that correspondence so he could reply later. Glen read the third piece of feedback, then checked the email address and name of the sender. His jaw went slack and his heart began to race. In disbelief, he read it again:

Great story. Lots of emotion for the reader to relate to, and hot, hot sex. Thanks for yet another top quality submission. Please keep writing. Stephanie

“Holy crap… Steph…?” Glen muttered to himself, his eyes riveted to his computer monitor.

After staring at the return email address to make sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him, Glen gave his head a shake. He knew that address as well as he knew his own. He had sent dozens and dozens of emails to it years ago. It belonged to Stephanie Calvi, an ex-girlfriend of his, and the one great love of his life. She was a junior high school teacher in Guilford, or at least she was when Glen last knew her. That was four years ago.

Glen pushed his chair away from his computer desk. He folded his arms across his chest and began tapping his upper lip with his forefinger as he thought. He wasn’t surprised that Stephanie was able to relate to the story he had written, or especially to the female character in it. The fact was that the female protagonist, Keri, was based entirely on Stephanie — from her physical appearance, to her taste in music. Writing that short story for Literotica had been a cathartic process for Glen. It was a way for him to hopefully exorcise some of his inner demons regarding Stephanie. In writing his story he was able to have the male character say things that he knew he would never get the opportunity to say to his ex-girlfriend. But now as he re-read Stephanie’s email he began to reconsider this long-held assumption.

A groan escaped Glen’s mouth as he weighed his options. His initial reaction was to reply to Stephanie and tell her it was he who wrote that story. But he wondered what, if anything, he had to gain by doing this. Then he asked himself what he had to lose. His relationship with Stephanie had ended amid much acrimony, and since then he’d had no contact whatsoever with her. He had thought of her countless times since then, and even allowed himself to dream about a reconciliation between them. But those dreams and longings had always vanished like smoke when he told himself that she was undoubtedly no longer single — perhaps even married. Even if she wasn’t, he could not imagine her wanting anything to do with him ever again.

Glen got up and went over to his stereo. Reaching towards the shelf of compact discs on the wall he pulled out Oh Mercy and placed the disc in the tray. The room instantly became filled with the sound of Dylan’s raspy voice. Glen paced the floor for close to fifteen minutes, thinking about Stephanie and trying to decide how to respond to her feedback, if at all. Once he grew tired he sat down on the edge of his couch.

Tears welled in Glen’s eyes as he listened to “Most of the Time”. He wiped them away with the heel of his hand, then got up and returned to his computer. He stared at the feedback email that Stephanie had sent, then began typing:

Hi Steph… This is probably going to come as a shock to you, but it’s me, Glen… Glen Thomkins. I’ve been writing these stories for a while now. Thanks for the feedback. I’m glad that you liked my story and hope that all is well with you. Take care.

Glen/epiphora79

Glen read and re-read what he had written several times before sending the email. Once he had sent it a feeling of near dread washed over him. He imagined Stephanie replying to tell him to go to fuck-off, or worse. For a while he thought that maybe the kindest thing she could do was to not reply at all. He went to the fridge and brought out a can of beer, then sank into the couch once more as he gulped it down. His mind was in turmoil as thoughts of the past and the possible future swirled inside his head. Dylan’s voice was still coming from the stereo speakers. Now he was singing about seeing a shooting star and a fire truck leaving hell. Glen felt as though he was in hell too, but one of his own design.

###

When Glen returned home from work the next day he was half-way to his computer desk even before the door closed behind him. Nervousness and apprehension filled him as he waited for his computer to boot and for his Hotmail Inbox to appear on the screen. His heart lept when he saw that Stephanie had replied to his email. The subject was simply “HI!”. Even that much seemed friendly and promising to Glen. He clicked on the link and read her email:

Hi Glen… Yes, I was shocked when I found out that it was you who’d written those stories. I’ve read them all. You’re a very good writer. I never knew you had this talent, but I hope you continue to pursue it. You could probably make a career out of it. I’m doing fine and hope that you are as well. I’d like to see you sometime, if you want. How does getting together at Joe’s Java for coffee sound? Let me know, okay? Steph

Glen smiled as he read Stephanie’s email for the third time. His heart was racing as he quickly typed a reply, thanking her for the email and saying that he did want to meet her for coffee sometime. He tried not to sound too eager or hopeful, but found it difficult because he was. Once he had sent his reply to Stephanie he made himself supper, although he did not feel much like eating.

That evening Glen watched TV, or at least stared expressionless at the screen for a few hours. He checked his email three times, hoping that Stephanie had replied. Each time he returned to the couch, disappointed. By the time eleven o’clock had passed he decided to go to bed and face yet another sleepless night, haunted by ghosts of his past. But first, he wanted to check his email one last time.

Glen’s face broke into a wide smile when he saw that Stephanie had replied to him. Her email was brief, simply asking if he could meet her the next evening at seven at the coffee shop where they had spent many weekend afternoons together. Still beaming, Glen quickly typed, telling Stephanie that he would meet her tomorrow night and was looking forward to seeing her. Then he went to bed, feeling happier and more hopeful than he had in years.

###

The smell of coffee filled Glen’s nostrils as he stepped inside Joe’s Java the next evening at fifteen minutes before seven. The room was crowded and filled with the sounds of conversation and the hiss of the espresso machine. Glen’s eyes scanned the patrons as his pulse quickened. After five or more seconds he saw Stephanie sitting towards the back of the cafe. She was wearing bluejeans and a white blouse with a tiny floral pattern. Her curly brown hair was longer than when Glen had seen her last. When her hazel eyes locked on him a smile instantly appeared on her pretty face and she waved at him.

Glen quickly walked towards the table where Stephanie was sitting. His smile widened and his heart accelerated with each step. For a few moments he stood beside her, speechless, as his eyes moved over her. She looked even more lovely and captivating than she did four years ago. Glen felt a lump in his throat.

“Hey. I’m glad you came,” Stephanie said, looking up at him.

“Me too,” he replied with a nervous laugh, then looked back towards the barista. “I’m going to get a coffee and I’ll be right back,” he told her.

As he stood at the counter waiting for his coffee Glen turned back towards Stephanie three times. Each time he saw that her dazzling eyes were still on him and her face was adorned with a smile. Glen held his mug of coffee tightly as he returned to her table and sat down opposite her.

“You’re looking good,” she said.

Glen shrugged self-consciously. “Thanks,” he said. “You look great, as always.”

Stephanie blushed and took a drink of coffee. “Thanks. It’s amazing what a little makeup and a curling iron can do,” she said with a laugh.

Glen felt his nervousness begin to wane as he listened to her voice and admired her beauty from across the table. “Your hair is longer,” he said as he ran his eyes over her curly brown tresses.

“Your’s is thinning,” she teased.

“Thanks, Steph,” he droned. “You’re a peach.”

Stephanie grinned and her hazel eyes flickered. “You used to say that I tasted like one — like the girl in that Dire Straits song about expresso,” she said.

Glen shifted uncomfortably in his chair at her mention of their intimate past. His blue eyes left hers and he stared at the coffee mug he was clutching.

“Oh, c’mon, Glen,” she said. “There’s no point in trying to pretend that stuff never happened, because it did — it was great too. At least it was for me.”

A smile slowly returned to his face. “Yeah, it was,” he said as his mind became flooded with memories.

Stephanie peered into her old lover’s blue eyes. She had forgotten how bright they were, but seeing them shine for her after many years stirred emotions in her that she had suppressed for a long time. “Are you still a big Bob Dylan and Tom Waits fan?” she asked.

Glen chuckled. “As long as I have a heart beating in my chest,” he said.

Stephanie smiled, reassured by the familiarity of him. “I bought Closing Time about six months after… after we broke up,” she confessed with a bashful smile. “Just because “Martha” reminds me of us, or at least gave me some hope.”

“I haven’t listened to that album in years,” he said with a heavy sigh.

“Because you don’t like it, or…”

“No… because I can’t stand the pain,” he told her, his eyes darting away again. “If I never hear “Lonely” ever again, it’ll be too soon.”

“Didn’t you learn to turn the pain off, like Bob Dylan?” she asked, only half-jokingly.

“If Bob really learned to turn it off, like he claims, he wouldn’t have written those songs about Sara that he did,” he scoffed. “Songs are like my stories — they’re fantasy.”

Stephanie reached across the table and gave her former lover’s hand a soft squeeze. Her brown eyes met his and she flashed him a feeble smile. “But your stories have more than a kernel of truth to them,” she reminded him. “You turned me into one of your characters, remember? I re-read them all after I found out you wrote them. I can see so much of you in them, Glen. I’m surprised I never suspected you’d written them long ago.”

“Well, like they say: write about what you know,” Glen said. He cleared his throat and straightened his back. “Did you like them?” he asked.

“Of course I liked them. But I guess you already know that,” she said. “And I liked them even more after I knew you’d written them.”

“That surprises me,” Glen replied with a nervous laugh.

“Probably about as much as I was surprised when I found out that you wrote them,” she replied. “Some of them are kind of… kinky. That one about breast bondage was really hot though. I never knew those sorts of things interested you. I feel like there’s a part of you I never got to know.”

“Well, it’s not the type of thing you always admit to, right?”

“Yeah, you’re right,” she agreed with a nod.

“It’s too bad we couldn’t have been more open about this stuff when we were together,” Stephanie mused aloud. “Things with us could have gotten a lot more… interesting.” She shot him a foxy grin as she brought the coffee mug up to her moist lips.

“It’s too bad that we couldn’t have been more open about a lot of things,” he said, then felt guilty. “No — I take that back. It’s too bad that I couldn’t have been more open about a lot of things. But I was so scared that if I was too honest regarding some of the reasons why I wanted to end it that it would only hurt you even more.” He frowned and avoided her eyes. “But that doesn’t matter anymore,” he muttered.

“It’s okay, Glen,” she said reassuringly. “And it does matter — you matter to me. You always have. I can’t imagine you not mattering to me, even if we’re not in touch with each other.”

“Thanks, and I hope you know I feel the same. I think of you so much, Steph. You wouldn’t believe some of the stupid things that remind me of you,” he said, then fell silent for a bit. “I’m glad you’re not bitter about it all either,” he added in a solemn voice.

“How could I be? We had some great times. That’s what I choose to remember,” she told him.

“Yeah, me too,” he breathed. “But, if I had to do it all over again…”

“I hope you’d do it all over me,” she interjected and let out a brassy laugh.

“You haven’t changed a bit, Steph,” he said, giving his head a shake.

“I feel like I have,” she said. “It’s been four years, Glen. You can’t tell me you haven’t changed at all. We’ll both be thirty soon. I’m beginning to feel old.”

“You don’t look it,” he told her.

“Oh… how do I look then?” she asked as she leaned back in her chair.

Glen thought for a moment as he ran his eyes over her. He felt the beginning of an erection and said “You look the same… great — lovely as ever.”

“Now I know you’ve changed — or at least your eyesight has,” she said. “I’m getting crow’s feet and my boobs are starting to sag.”

Glen let out a sharp laugh. “That’s ’cause they weigh a ton, Steph. I think I sprained my wrist holding them up one night,” he said, feeling his cock throb harder.

“You always did like my tits, didn’t you?” She giggled as she straightened her back. Her clit jumped and she could feel her cheeks getting warm.

“Yeah…” he said as his eyes moved towards her chest.

Many seconds of silence fell between the couple until Stephanie said “It’s so good to see you again. I’ve thought about you so many times, and wanted to call, but… I guess I was scared you’d hang up on me, or that a woman would answer the phone. I don’t know which would have hurt more.”

“I know what you mean. I’ve thought about you too. I even picked up the phone a few times and punched in a few numbers, but always chickened-out for the same reasons,” he said. “Even when I emailed you I was scared you’d reply and tell me to go to hell, or just not reply at all.”

“I was shocked when I read that email, but in a good way,” she said. “Thank god for Literotica.”

“Yeah, here’s to writing smut,” Glen said as he raised his coffee mug to her.

Stephanie laughed as she knocked her mug against the rim of his, then took another drink of coffee. “Can I ask you something?” she said.

Glen grew nervous and apprehensive when he heard her request, but was not going to deny it. He knew that he couldn’t deny her anything. “Of course,” he told her.

“Didn’t it feel weird writing a story about a character who was essentially me?” Stephanie gave him a puzzled look as she posed her question.

“No,” Glen said immediately, then became quiet as he thought for a moment. “This may sound weird, but it made me feel connected to you — like I was getting my one opportunity to say things I knew I’d never get a chance to say face to face.”

“Like you were writing from your soul to me from you — to paraphrase Bob,” she said with a dim smile.

“Exactly,” he said. “I’m glad you sent me that feedback, and included your email address too.”

“So am I,” she said with a grateful sigh. “I’d read your stories before, but this one really touched a nerve and I had to write to tell you how much I liked it.”

“Thanks,” he said.

“Don’t thank me,” Stephanie said. “I ended up doing myself a favour.” She glanced at her watch, then up to him again. “I should get going in a while. I’ve got test papers to correct and hand back for English class tomorrow.”

“Okay,” he said. “It was great to see you again, Steph. Can we, ah, get together again sometime for coffee?”

“Of course. You’re not going to get rid of me so easily now that I’ve found you again. Are you still living at the place on Montague St.?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said with a quick nod.

“Alone?” she said with a sly smile.

“Yeah… I’ve been alone for four years,” he said.

“I’m single too,” she said flatly.

Silence fell as Glen and Stephanie’s minds began to race and fill with possibilities. He took a drink of coffee, gazing at her from over the rim of his mug. She gave him a shy smile and pushed her hair back over her shoulders.

“I’d like to stop in some night,” Stephanie said nervously.

Glen’s mouth tightened. “Steph, I… ah… are you sure that’s a good idea?” he said.

“I think it’s a great idea,” she said and grinned.

“I’d love that — really, but…” His voice died and his eyes left hers again.

But what?” she asked.

Glen’s lips grew tight. “Steph, we can’t relive the past,” he said.

“No, and I don’t want to; that’s over. But who knows… the future is still unwritten,” she told him.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he agreed. “I’m just so scared of screwing up again. We could have a great friendship, you know?”

“True, but you know that both of us would still want more than just that,” she countered. “We can’t be just friends. There’s too much of a spark there.”

Glen smiled. “Yeah… more like a flame, I’d say,” he said wistfully.

“So, how does tomorrow night around seven sound?” she asked.

“Like something I’ve dreamed of for years,” he said.

“Me too,” she said.

Stephanie slung her purse over her shoulder and stood up. She reached out for Glen as he got to his feet and hugged him. A shiver rippled through her as his arms went around her. She kissed his cheek and nuzzled into his neck.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night at seven,” she breathed into his ear.

“I can’t wait,” he said and kissed her pink cheek.

###

The next evening Glen had just finished washing his supper dishes and was wiping the kitchen table when he heard the knock at the door. His heart leapt and he turned around and saw Stephanie standing there. He hurried to the door to let her in.

“Hey,” she said as she stepped inside.

Glen’s eyes moved down her body. She was wearing a long purple skirt with ruffles at the hem and a light pink blouse. “Hey, it’s great to see you again,” he said.

Stephanie walked over to the kitchen table and sat her purse on it, then turned to smile at him. “Tidying-up before I got here, I see,” she teased.

“Yeah, something like that,” he said.

“How tidy is the living room?” she asked.

“Ah, not bad,” he said, a little confused by her question.

“Show me.” Stephanie took his hand in hers and guided him into the living room. When they were in front of the couch she pulled him to her and pressed her lips to his. Her hand glided up his back as their tongues danced. She could feel his hard shaft pressing against her stomach, but that wasn’t where she wanted it to be.

“Mmmm… I’d forgotten what a great kisser you are,” he said as he looked into her eyes, licking his lips.

“You too,” she purred, running her hand along his side and stealing a glance at the bulge in his jeans.

Stephanie turned towards his stereo, then back to him. “Mind if I put something on?” she asked.

“Go ahead,” he said, “As long as…”

“I know — not Closing Time,” she interjected with a grin.

“Or Blue Valentine,” he added.

Stephanie could feel the pulsing of her clit as her eyes roamed the rows of compact discs. But her heart was also racing and felt lighter than it had in years. “How about Slow Train Coming then?” she asked, turning back to him.

“That sounds great,” Glen replied.

After Stephanie had started the CD she took Glen by the hand and pulled him down on the couch beside her. She held him to her and settled into his strong arms. She closed her eyes and gave a soft moan as his hand stroked her back. Already she was quite wet, but she knew that soon she would be dripping and craving him, like years ago.

Glen slid his fingers along Stephanie’s delicate jawline and cupped her chin in his hand. He tilted her head up as his lips met hers, sucking and tugging at them. He could feel her firm breasts pressed to his chest as they kissed and her hand sliding down to his right hip. When he curled his fingers around her left breast and squeezed it she moaned and writhed slightly.

“Mmmm… play with my tits, Glen,” she moaned. “They missed you… your hands… your mouth.”

Glen’s fingers trembled as he began unbuttoning Stephanie’s blouse. Once he had it open to her navel he tugged it apart so he could cup her heavy mounds through her bra. Her thick nipples poked out at the white lace and he rubbed her left one as he kneaded her other breast.

“God, you’re beautiful, Steph,” he said as he caressed her.

“Me, or my tits?” she joked.

“You — all of you,” he said as he looked into her eyes. “I love your tits, but don’t ever think that’s all I love about you; there’s so much.”

“Thanks. I feel the same. You’re so easy to love, Glen,” Stephanie said as her hand glided up his thigh. She cupped his package, giving his shaft a slow rub through his jeans.

“Careful, it’s loaded,” he joked.

Stephanie moaned and rubbed his shaft harder. “How about you unload it on me… all over my tits and my face,” she purred.

Glen tugged at her bra and uncovered her left nipple. He wrapped his lips around her coppery nub and began sucking and pulling at it with his lips. When she arched her back he began squeezing her right breast harder and pinching her thick nipple between his fingers. His cock was throbbing as she rubbed it through his jeans. It was so hard now that it was becoming uncomfortable. He wanted to take it out, but he wanted it to be in her even more.

“You know what I find ironic?” she said as she looked down at him teasing her nipple.

“What?” he asked in a ragged voice.

“Even though we were apart, you still made me cum — with your stories,” she admitted.

Glen laughed. “I’d rather do it the old-fashioned way though,” he said as he looked up at her.

“Or maybe we could invent a few new ways,” she said. “Your stories have given me ideas… really naughty ones.”

“Mmmm… I like the sound of that,” he told her.

“How about we move this party upstairs?” she suggested as she leaned away slightly.

Glen’s smile drained from his face and his eyes shifted as he sat up. “I, ah, don’t have any condoms, Steph,” he mumbled.

“So?” she said dismissively. “We’ve done it plenty of times before without condoms; it’ll be okay, Glen.”

When Glen didn’t reply, Stephanie bristled. Her mouth tightened as she studied the compunctious expression on his face. “I know you don’t want to hear about this, but we might as well face it now,” she began. “Since you, I’ve only been with one guy, and I always played safe. I don’t want to get AIDS any more than you do. I’m not stupid, Glen.” She paused for a few moments, then added “That’s what you were worried about, isn’t it?”

“Well, it did cross my mind,” he said, feeling like a cad.

“Well, you can put it out of your mind. I’m not dying to have sex,” she assured him.

“I’m sorry, Steph. It’s just that…”

“You don’t have to explain,” she said, masking her hurt. “I understand; I can’t blame you. It’s been four years, and you don’t know what I’ve been doing.”

“Just so you know, there hasn’t been anyone for me since you,” he said.

“No one?” she blurted out as her eyes widened.

“I went on a couple of dates, but my heart just wasn’t in it,” he told her. “I kept comparing them to you and they couldn’t measure-up. They just made me miss you even more.”

Stephanie smiled and laid back against him. She held him tight as she wiggled closer, looking down at the outline of his hard cock through the denim.

“Come on,” Glen said. He leaned back a ways and looked into her sultry eyes, then to her round cleavage as he stood up.

“Where?” she asked.

“Upstairs. I want to show you something.”

Stephanie giggled as she stood up and reached for his hand. Together, they ascended the stairs and entered his bedroom. After she took a few steps beyond the threshold Stephanie stopped. A peculiar expression came over her face as she stared at the bed.

“What is it?” he asked with concern as his hand ran up her back to her right shoulder.

Stephanie turned to him, smiling again. “I was just thinking of all the times you made me cum on that bed,” she told him.

Glen began unbuttoning her blouse the rest of the way and pulled it from inside her skirt. “How about we add a few more times to the tally,” he said. He tugged her to him by her blouse and kissed her wet lips.

“Mmmm… please,” she purred. “My fingers have been no substitute for your cock.”

Glen kicked his shoes off and started unbuttoning his shirt. He watched Stephanie as she began undressing beside the bed. Her pendulous breasts swayed and her dusky nipples pointed towards him. Once he tossed his boxers aside and was naked he placed his hands on the curve of her smooth hips and eased her against his body. His hard shaft rubbed over her wet petals and she rocked her hips as they kissed.

Breaking their kiss, Stephanie tugged at his hand as she backed up towards the bed. She laid down on it, running her hands up his back as he settled between her open thighs. She wrapped her legs around his and drug her nails up his spine, making him let out a deep moan.

Glen looked down at her and smiled. He kissed her as he lowered himself on her, stroking her left thigh. He let out another moan as the head of his shaft slipped between her wet lips.

“Welcome home, Glen,” Stephanie said as she felt him push into her. She lifted her ass from the bed and gave his shaft a squeeze deep within her walls.

“God, you feel wonderful,” he groaned as he began pumping. “You’re so beautiful, Steph.” He bent down and pinched her right nipple between his lips and began sucking hard as he worked his cock in and out of her faster. He felt her grip him deep within her tight pussy and began thrusting harder as his heavy balls slapped against her. Her breasts had begun to move with their rhythm and he gripped her left one hard as he met her with each hard stab his shaft made into her.

“Oh god, Glen… fuck me hard,” she cried out. “I used to think of us doing this when I played with myself… now I want it for real.”

Stephanie’s legs were wrapped tightly around him and Glen raised up on his knees. He grabbed her hips tight, his fingertips pressing into her, and continued to piston his cock in and out. He watched her heavy round breasts jiggle and listened to her moans grow louder. His right hand moved down her stomach and he pressed his thumb to her clit. She cried out as he began rubbing her button and pressed down harder on it.

“Oh shit, Glen… I’m going to…”

Stephanie never finished her sentence before her first orgasm rushed through her. She arched her back and twisted on the bed as she cried out in ecstasy. Glen held her tighter, still pumping his thick shaft and rubbing her pink pearl with his thumb. He looked down, watching his shiny cock move in and out of her, then observed the look of pleasure on her face. Her eyes were closed and she was smiling as he took her, just as they had both longed for over the past four years.

“I’m so close, Steph,” he moaned a while later.

“Cum on me, Glen” she begged. “Shoot it all over my tits… my face… I want it everywhere.”

Glen slipped from inside her and moved up her body. He groped at her right breast, tugging and pinching her swollen nipple while he stroked his meat. Stephanie watched, running her hands over his thighs. He came with a throaty moan as the first stream of his thick cum erupted from his slit. It splashed over her left breast, running across the firm nipple.

“Oh god, Glen… cum all over me,” she moaned.

Seconds later Stephanie felt more of his cum shoot over her skin. It landed over her lips and cheek, then began to run down her face. She licked her lips and brushed her fingers over her cheek, smearing his jism over her soft, hot skin. A third, final burst landed on her upper lip. She felt it run into her mouth and she swallowed it eagerly, craving more.

Panting hard and still holding his cock in his hand, Glen lowered himself on her. He squeezed the base of his shaft and moved his tight fingers down towards the head. One last big drop of his thick cum ran from the gaping slit and he wiped it off on her tongue as she stuck it out to receive it. Stephanie moaned and sucked at the head of his cock, hoping to get every bit of his seed that she could.

Glen rolled over on his left side, facing Stephanie. He smiled at her as his hand glided down her side to her hip. Her skin felt hot and silky smooth. He pulled her closer and kissed her wet lips, tasting himself on them. “I’d almost forgotten what an amazing lover you are,” he said.

“Thanks, so are you. None of my fantasies about you even begin to compare to this,” Stephanie said, her voice still thick with arousal. “How about I remind you every day from now on how great we are together, just in case you forget.”

Stephanie giggled as she looked into his eyes. Then when she saw his expression change she understood how he felt at that moment. “What are you scared of, Glen?” she asked.

Glen let out a heavy sigh as his eyes darted about. “I’m scared of it not working out — like last time — scared of getting hurt again. But maybe more than anything, I’m scared of hurting you all over again, Steph,” he told her. “I know what you went through four years ago, and I’d hate myself if it happened again.”

Stephanie looked into his eyes and moved closer. She rested her arm over him and met his gaze. “Glen, I’m a big girl now, remember?” she said. “I know what I want and I can take care of myself.”

“I know, but…”

“No buts,” she interjected. “If you don’t want me anymore, then please tell me, but don’t act like a martyr and say you’re rejecting me for my own good.”

Glen sighed. “Okay,” he relented. “I do still want you, Steph. I never stopped wanting you. You must have known that as soon as you knew I’d written that story.”

Stephanie nodded. “Yes, but they’re just fantasy, right?” she countered with a sly grin.

“Sometimes fantasy can become reality,” he said. “And there was already a good amount of reality in that story anyway.”

Stephanie thought for a while, then began speaking. “Look. Glen, I’m not asking you to promise me forever like before. I don’t believe in forever anymore because now I know that nothing lasts forever. Life never turns out as you planned it. There’s no script,” she said. “All I ask is that you promise that you’ll be with me tomorrow. And if tomorrow comes, I’ll ask you the same thing again. And the next day… and the next… Can you do that?”

Glen smiled lovingly at Stephanie and kissed her lips again tenderly. “Yes, absolutely,” he said. “I’ll be with you tomorrow, Steph.”

“Thank-you. That’s all I want,” she said as she rested her head on his chest.

Feelings of peace and unspoken love filled Glen and Stephanie as they lay in each other’s arms. Neither of them feared the future or dwelled on the past anymore. They knew they had tomorrow together, and that was much more than they’d had in years. Each of them felt confident that the rest would happen naturally.

END

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