A Shortcut to a Close Shave

Joint hanging from her lips, she bent down to pick up two wine glasses from the floor. In denim hot-pants, the full length of her radiant, tanned legs was visible. Her ginger bob was ruffled, part of it swung down over her eyes nearly touching the end of the joint. She brushed it behind her ear with her free hand. The glasses clinked. The room was hazy from smoke.

I'd always got on better with girls than with other boys my age, and since I'd met Jenny at college two years before, we'd been best friends. No one could believe we weren't having sex and we enjoyed playing up to them- holding hands and whispering in public, she often called me 'baby' and I called her 'Pixie'. A name which reflected her facial features, and light stature. At twenty she looked young for her age. I thought she was beautiful and she often called me handsome but we had strict rules against any kind of sexual contact with each other. We both knew that would be emotional suicide.

"I really need to get laid tonight" she complained, standing up, taking the joint from her lips. "You will" I idly indulged her. Normally I'd scold her for making herself so 'available' but tonight we both had Valentines dates and my objectives were the same as hers! Besides, all the smoke I'd passively inhaled was making my eyelids heavy and I was in no mood for disagreement. She collapsed onto the settee next to me. The soft, bare skin of her arm rubbed against mine. She put the joint back in her mouth and reached down for the wine bottle on the floor between us. Holding both glasses precariously in one hand she filled them too full, spilling a few drops on her leg. She didn't seem to notice and I watched as a droplet succumbed to gravity and slid down over her inner thigh into the shadow of her shorts.

"Are you ready for tonight then?" She purred nonchalantly. I only had one hour to go and I intended to go out in the t-shirt and jeans I had on. I made some lazy, stoned indication to this effect. She took a deep drag and then exhaled, shaking her head, making the smoke dance around her pretty face and dishevelled hair

"Scruffy bastard!" This sent us both into fits of giggles. She had a point, but I'd met my date in a heavy metal bar so she couldn't be expecting anything too upmarket. I was slumped back into the soft cushions of the settee, my chin nearly resting on my chest. It seemed like slow motion when she twisted herself round to face me, placed both her hands on my leg and leaned towards me putting her face close to mine. I sensed her small breasts were peering at me from within the smiling aperture of her vest top and I resisted the invisible force that pulled my gaze down towards them. She held my eye contact and said in a half whisper "You are nicely trimmed and clipped, down there, aren't you?" I lost my battle with the invisible force and glanced down. She must have noticed. The mischievous look in her eye was very familiar to me but her words were disconcerting. "What are you on about" I said defensively.

"Well, if you're hoping to get some action tonight you ought to think about what the poor girl might come up against. You wouldn't expect to have to go down on someone who looked like they were giving birth to a yetti. Why do men assume that the rules don't apply to them!?" This kind of tirade was typical. There wasn't much point arguing and anyway, although I was quite confident with girls I didn't have much experience. I needed all the help I could get. In my defence I said

"I don't have much body hair"

"I know" she answered cocking her head sideways and thinking. A fire was igniting in her eyes "Show me your pubes!" she ordered. I protested weakly, but once she latched on to something it was almost impossible to resist her demands.

"Show me your pubes!" she repeated.

Embarrassed, I undid my belt and pulled the front of my jeans down just enough to expose the top of my pubic hair. A tangled, straw-coloured bundle sprung forth. Her eyes widened before she collapsed into fits of laughter. Leaning back and pointing to the offending region she struggled between laughs to inform me "That has got to go!"

I hoped I wasn't a red as I felt. My confidence about my swift approaching date was draining away.

"But I've got no clippers or anything"

"You can use my scissors"

"I'll probably make a mess of it." I complained after thinking for a second. I'd already had a bottle of wine. She sprung to her feet and with an outstretched hand she ordered

"Come with me." I felt myself being pulled like a stubborn child across the floor of her flat and into her small, disorganised bathroom, my belt still hanging undone jingled as I walked. She turned towards me. From somewhere she had produced a shiny pair of hair cutting scissors. It seemed like slow motion again as she placed her hand on my chest to steady herself and began to sink to her knees. I was silent, in awe of the commanding efficiency of my tiny, troubled and beautiful little pixie. Her head was level with my crotch. She tugged the top of my jeans down to expose my pubes. I nervously held on to the waste band preventing her from pulling them down further. After she had suppressed a laugh by placing her hand over her mouth she began to snip away large chunks of hair with one hand, catching them in the other so they didn't fall inside my pants and reaching up to throw the liberated clumps into the sink behind me.

The scent of luxurious shampoos and shower-gels, put me on edge slightly and the touch of her cold fingers brushing against my lower belly sent electric shocks up and down my spine. She always pouted slightly when she was concentrating hard on something, which made her young lips look slightly slutty. Her long eyelashes blinked occasionally as she continued reaching up to the sink to expel the tufts of hair.

After a couple of minutes the exposed hair was neatly cropped.

"Further down" she commanded without taking her eye off the job. My breathing was getting heavier as I nervously slid my pants down an inch, exposing the base of my penis. She didn't seem at all phased by the situation and she made a couple more snips. The cold scissors brushed against me sending a rush of blood to the area. My cock was beginning to nudge against the waste-band of my jeans. Embarrassed, I willed it with all my might not to harden any further. I had to look away. Suddenly I felt her hand flat on my belly, which made me look down. She looked me in the eye with a terrifyingly determined stare;

"I'll have to do your balls." she informed me, hardly even breaking in to a smile. She began to pull gently on my jeans. I nervously held on to them but she looked at me again and raised her eyebrows, silently commanding me to let go. With her gentle pressure, my pants slowly descended, revealing the length of semi erect cock. It bobbed heavily and lazily before her. Her face was so close I could feel her measured breaths caressing my shaft. It took all the will power I had to keep my erection from becoming full. Both of us were silent. After a couple of seconds she got back to work, meticulously snipping and reaching up to the sink, my pendulous manhood swinging slowly in front of her face. Finally I spoke.

"This is slightly embarrassing" I muttered, half breathless.

"Don't be such a child!" She scolded, and after a brief pause gave me a playful push backwards. As my naked buttocks touched the cold porcelain of the sink I recoiled, thrusting my mid-riff towards her. My swollen penis lurched forwards, past her ear, brushing some soft, wayward strands of her ginger hair and swinging back towards me, sliding across her smooth, hot cheek. For a second she seemed stunned. The weight of my semi-erection had buffeted her head slightly to one side on her delicate little neck . I stared down at her, wide eyed, awaiting her reaction. Her cheeks were reddening. She bit her bottom lip and a faint smile began to play across her face eventually giving way to bursts of hysterical laughter. The tension broken, I followed suit. My stomach hurt I laughed so much. The weed always got us like this. The absurdity of the situation, the clumps of hair, everything was funny and I let the convulsions of hilarity take over my body.

After a while, I've no idea how long. I became aware that I was the only one laughing. Disconcerted, my own laughter quickly trailed away and I tentatively brought my attention back into the present. There, kneeling before me, she appeared transformed from the controlled, authoritative figure she had been moments before. She stared up at me with vulnerable, pleading eyes. Still kneeling but with her radiant, bare legs spreading wide, She leaned back on her hands, pushing her breasts towards me. Her head tilted slightly to one side to avoid the protruding length of my throbbing, fully hardened erection. My nervousness forgotten and my composure shattered by laughter, I'd lost all control and now my shaft soared proudly, brutally over her, its shadow slashed across her breasts which rose and fell in quick, sharp breaths. The expression in her eyes was unnervingly childlike and her massively dilated pupils tried to draw me guiltily in to some impossible trap. Her slightly feline cheeks were rosy red and her mouth was partly open, poised in rapacious longing.

I felt hot. My dick ached like never before and a silent inner voice begged her to relieve me with that hungry little mouth. I pictured her feverishly wriggling her way out of those hot-pants while those young, pink lips locked onto the side of my shaft and blindly felt their way upwards, hunting for the swollen end and begging to be smothered in hot semen. I imagined her giddily clambering to her feet without removing my cock from her mouth and gripping the sink with both hands. Arching her back into a deep curve which rose sharply over her tanned buttocks and moaning uncontrollably in anticipation of being entered.

It was Jenny who exorcised the demon which had possessed us both moments before. She fumbled around on the floor beside her and eventually reproduced the scissors to resume her task with the same cool efficiency as before.

"I guess it saves me from asking you to hold it clear for me!" She stated dryly in the fading light. I felt like I was recovering from being punched in the stomach, so I made no reply. I was however, fully aware that she had just saved our friendship.

I couldn't help smiling to myself as I marched on down the street on this chilly February night. Although we had left on slightly awkward terms, I knew that next time we got plastered together we would laugh our heads off at this afternoon's events. Right now I had other things on my mind. I had Jenny's flat keys and she had promised to leave me to my own devices as she was confident her date would be taking her back to his place. With an opportunity like this, failure was not an option. I continued in a thoughtful mood.

The coldness seemed to bring out the city's hardness and hostility. The black cabs hummed past me trailing white plumes of exhaust smoke. Their anonymous occupants leered at me, just inches away, but separated by steel and glass. I tried to follow one with a threatening gaze but was tripped up by a protruding paving slab. My stoned, slightly drunk train of thought lamented at the futility of kicking something as solid as a paving stone and my concentration turned to avoiding doing it again. Passing the time in this way I soon reached the restaurant where I was to meet my date Georgia. At least that was what I'd saved her name as in my phone but I'd never met anyone with that name before. I opted to call her George. That would cover at least a couple of alternatives.

The restaurant was just out of town on a main road, opposite a taxi rank. Couples were striding along, huddled together against the cold winter air. Heels 'clip-clopped' down the pavement and occasionally scuffed on curb-stones, car doors slammed now and then and headlights sailed past. I lit a fag and waited. The coldness made the smoke billow thickly around me. I waited, keeping my eye on taxis which were arriving.

I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was sudden and I physically jumped. I span round.

"I expected you to come from over there" I said, trying to play it cool but sounding decidedly ruffled.

"You're funny" She giggled, kissing me on the cheek. Her perfume smelled gorgeous, and slightly stunned, I took a step back to see if she was half as pretty as I remembered. Standing only a few inches shorter than me, she had thick, black, luxurious hair which cascaded over her shoulders and curled like two sleeping Persian cats on either side of her bare cleavage. Her breasts were pushed up high! Their size seemed out of proportion to her narrow but curvatious waist, which was hugged by a short and expensive looking pale-blue, silk dress. She had athletic, powerful legs. They were long and smooth looking and flowed perfectly down into a pair of glamorous high-heels. How she could stand there with no visible aversion to the cold I have no idea. But suddenly I felt severely underdressed. I composed myself and took hold of her hand.

"Let's go" I flung the restaurant door open and strode in ahead of her, tossing chivalry to the wind!

Inside, I was temporarily overwhelmed by the excessively warm air. So much so that I didn't notice the waiter asking me if I had booked a table. Georgia had to step in. So far I was not coming over as assertive and confident as I'd hoped. The restaurant was heaving with happy couples and we were led right to the other end where we were seated. The tables were decked out in tacky, red table cloths and helium filled, heart shaped balloons.

"Isn't it all so cute?" said Georgia. I smiled in agreement when I was actually contemplating how such blatant commercialism seemed to totally obliterate true romance from any occasion.

Conversation got off to a shaky start. She said her dad was Russian so I asked what he thought now that his country was democratic. She began to file her nails with a blank expression and said; "I don't know. I suppose he likes it." I thought better than to try discussing the works of Pushkin or Tolstoy with her. I was in a belligerent mood but I didn't want to put her off completely as I found her extremely attractive. Now I was sitting opposite her I could take more notice of her sexy eyes, high cheekbones and full lips. I probably spent half the time staring at her rather prominent breasts but she seemed to enjoy being looked at and I'm sure she was pushing them out, inviting me to feast my eyes!

I thought the night had started badly, so emboldened by a few more glasses of wine and feeling that I'd not much left to lose, I decided to bite the bullet.

"So what exactly do you look for in a man?" I asked, casually as possible. She leaned her chin on her hand and looked straight at me, a naughty smile beginning to spread across her face.

"I like a man who looks after himself well" She purred and lowering her gaze as if gesturing towards my lower body. This was crazy! A surge of confidence raced through me and me I leaned towards her.

"I've always kept mine nicely cropped. It's the least I'd expect from a girl so why shouldn't I? Plus it has the advantage of making it look bigger....Not that I need any help in that department!"

"I meant shaved!" She whispered now as our faces were getting closer.

"Shaved?" I spluttered. That had knocked the wind right out of my sails. "I don't know if I'd trust myself with a razor down there!" I virtually stammered. What was wrong with these women? What more could they expect from us?

"Well I've got a pretty steady hand" She quickly cut in. I pretended to think for a second while I regained my composure.

" Well maybe you could show me how?"

"I'd love to" she said lustfully, then bit her bottom lip. What a day this was turning out to be! We both hurried through our main courses and decided against dessert now that the deal was sealed. We hurried into the night and hailed a taxi.

Back at Jenny's flat the lights were already on. It was lit warmly and Jenny had tidied up a bit before leaving. "Is this your place?" said Georgia.

"It is for tonight" I hurriedly replied. There was a definite sense of urgency in our voices and we made only a few brief exchanges. Having enquired as to the direction of the bathroom she strode off towards it, slipping the straps of her dress off of her shoulders in the process. The smooth material slid down to floor revealing a tiny thong. None of this broke her step and she seemed to glide across the room, still in her high heels. As she reached the door she looked round and gestured for me to follow, a look of hunger in her eyes. I hurried after, pulling off my T-shirt and undoing my belt. No apprehension this time! When I got to the bathroom she had virtually gutted the small wall cabinet and had found a pink, disposable razor and some shaving gel. She dropped to her knees to inspect my neatly trimmed and fully erect cock which I unashamedly wielded over her.

"Nice" she said, referring to Jenny's handiwork. There was definite sarcasm and for a second I felt defensive towards Jenny. This was quickly forgotten as Georgia began massaging shaving gel into my short pubic hair.

"mmmm" She kept making these noises seemingly unconsciously and occasionally flicked her tongue over the end of my cock. This made me spasm with pleasure and she giggled, wide eyed as she worked. I couldn't remember ever being so turned on. Even the coldness of the porcelain against my ass was pleasurable. The tap was running and between each stroke of the razor she reached up to rinse off the hair, putting the end of my dick in her hot mouth at the same time and always moaning with pleasure.

"mmmmm" or "ooooo". She had soon shaved me balls and all. The feel of the air against my skin was an extra turn on but when she expertly removed her bra and placed my cock between those large, round breasts I thought I was going to come there and then. She used her tits to wipe away all the excess shaving gel.

"Now I want you inside me, ok?" She said, not really giving me a choice. All I could do was nod as she took me by the hand and lead me to the bed.

Jenny's flat was a bed-sit. This meant that the living room doubled up as the bedroom so we didn't have far to go. Georgia never even turned to face me. She just climbed on to the bed on all fours and pushed her ass in the air expectantly. This struck me as a slight turn off after the erotic teasing that I had been through previously that day. But I took my position behind her, as my cock still ached like never before to be relieved. She still had her thong on and I pulled it aside to begin to work my end into her. It felt tight and hot at first and she eased herself back onto the full length of me. At fist I felt as if I might finish pretty soon but as she became more and more wet, I slid in and out easily, without the same intense stimulation. I settled into a rhythm, which she seemed to like. My balls were making a slapping noise against the back of her thighs and I loved pulling her ass cheeks apart to get a good look at her. She seemed to like this too as it made her cry out but I could feel myself getting less and less turned on. This had happened to me quite often in the past. If I felt I was losing a personal connection with my partner, I also began to lose my arousal. This was meant to be the perfect end to the night and now I was complaining to myself of being bored. I tried to think erotic thoughts but Georgia's moans seemed to be becoming more and more fake.

I was just about to suggest a change of position when I heard the key suddenly rattling in the front door. The door opened slightly and a small, bedraggled figure sheepishly side-stepped through it into the living room. It was Jenny. I was completely speechless and I stopped dead in my tracks.

"What are you doing back?" I weakly questioned her. I was mortified. She looked so pathetic standing there in a tiny black dress with her hair soaked and plastered down over her eyes. It must have started raining.

"Fucking mummy's boy doesn't screw on a first date" She whimpered an embarrassed explanation. She seemed as embarrassed as me. I couldn't see Georgia's face and I guessed she would be pretty shocked and embarrassed too. None of us seemed to know what to do next. I was still up to my balls in Georgia and then Jenny, who has a reputation for digging herself into deeper and deeper holes, reached into her handbag. Nervously she produced a small vibrator and then in some attempt to break the ice with a joke, said

"I guess this is the only action I'll be getting then" She was met with silence and then added "I'll leave you guys to it" and headed for the bathroom. Georgia, who's reaction I hadn't been able to gauge until now, suddenly spoke

"You poor baby" She purred. Jenny stopped. "Why don't you bring that over here?" She continued, sympathetically but authoritative. The two sexy girls stared at each other; one commanding, one obeying. My swirling mind began to doubt my own presence in the room in the midst of this powerful display of trust between the two female strangers. But as Jenny began to approach, her head lowered and as if pulled by some invisible force, my breathing became heavy, every one of my senses became aroused. In the silence, Georgia reached out and touched Jenny comfortingly, a gesture which was taken as an instruction to remove her sodden, black dress. It clung to her hips before dropping to the floor with a quiet thump. Her naked body was slightly pink in places from the cold and her nipples were rock hard. She looked as if she might weep as she knelt submissively before the seductress, and face to face with me.

The pleading, hungry look was back on her childish face and she exhaled sharply as Georgia gently brushed the vibrator up her thigh and over her pussy lips. This seemed like a cue for me to get back to work with my now throbbing cock. Jenny and I stared into each other's eyes as we took our pleasure simultaneously from this beautiful, Russian sorceress who seemed to have put a spell on us both. Jenny lay back and spread her legs for the moaning Georgia who expertly worked the vibrator over her little, pink clitoris. With this mesmerising sight before me I soon felt myself close to an orgasm. Jenny was laying back and staring up at me running the fingers of one hand through her wet hair. "I'm gonna come Baby" She seemed to say, almost telepathically. This didn't feel like a threesome, but like a supreme spiritual bonding between the two of us. Two friends. Two soul-mates. I watched hypnotised as she writhed and spasmed, crying out with her soft, breathy voice. I removed myself from Georgia, raised my self up so my balls rested on her lower back and let the warmth of climax flood into me. I grasped myself firmly and let the white streaks arch over Georgia's shoulder (some getting caught in her thick, black hair) and land on little Jenny. Some of it reached as high as her small, firm breasts and she rubbed it in to her skin as if it were some powerful, healing substance.

I felt bad for Georgia immediately afterwards. She'd been nothing more than an object during our adventure, and almost surplus to requirements by the end but she seemed to understand. She kissed us both on the mouth in turn and then walked away, still in just a thong, to make some coffee for us all. I spoke first to Jenny "Technically, we still haven't broken our rule." Jenny giggled and replied

"Happy Valentines Baby!"

END

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

A Short Night Together

My friend Denise picked me up at the airport . It had been a late flight, something like 11pm local time and I had already been up since 4am Chicago time, been to class, checked out of the hotel, sat in O'Hare for 3 hours and spent another 4 hours on the plane. She had worked that day and was tired too, not to mention she had just got over a cold. Plus her husband, who had been out of town for two months on a job, had just got back a few days before and they had spent a lot of time....um....reuniting.

We hadn't seen each other in about 8 months. As much as we really wanted to do other things, we were both pretty beat. So the plan was that she would take me to the hotel, get me settled in, talk for a little bit and then she would go home and rest. We would have the whole weekend to talk, visit family, shop and anything else.

When we got to the hotel she sat on the bed and turned on the TV while I stashed the luggage and made a quick check of voice mail. I felt filthy and needed a shower, kind of hoped that would wake me up a bit for even a short visit. She was happy watching some reality TV that she never gets to watch at home so I stripped down and took a quick shower.

When I got out there really wasn't any point in getting dressed as I was going right to bed. So I climbed up on the bed behind her, wrapped my arms around her and rested my head on her shoulder to watch TV with her. Talk about a nice way to end the day. And it would have been.

The problem was that I hadn't had sex in over a week. And sitting there behind her, naked, with my cock rubbing up against her butt.....well, suddenly I was getting a second wind. My hands started to wander and I played with her breasts while we watched TV. She has such nice breasts, about a 40D and yet fairly firm. It just felt so good to have her in my arms, and it felt so right to trace her nipples, to tug at them. Her breathing changed, her body totally relaxed, she began to melt into me.

But then she stood up and announced that we would have to wait. She should be getting home, Rick would feel bad if she spent the night since he just got back home and she was pretty tired. I told her that I understood and stood up to give her a hug and kiss goodbye.

Funny thing a kiss like that. I hadn't intended it to be more than a quick kiss. But I love kissing, and so does Denise. So after about 2 minutes of kissing and neither one of us had made a move to pull apart, my hands began to wander. So did hers. Soon my hands were on her ass pulling her tight against my body. After another couple of minutes of that I had to take things elsewhere. She was tired, I was horny, we had to either end this now or get on with it. I took a step back, releasing from the kiss and sliding my hands to her hips.

"I wish I could stay, but I've got to get home"

"I know, it's ok. I'll see you in the morning."

I took another step back and sat on the bed. She started to fix up her hair a bit. I laid back on the bed and began to stroke my cock. She just stood there and stared...like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Denise, it's ok, I just need to cum. You need to get home."

"I know, I need to go home. I can't sleep here tonight, maybe tomorrow."

Next thing I know she's taking off her shirt. I sit up to help take off her pants. Denise never wears panties so I was quickly greeted with a view of what I am convinced is the most beautiful pussy in the world. I know what I want, and now there's no talking me out of it.

I lay back on the bed again, my cock pointing straight up. Her hands are in mine and I gently tug her my way. She slowly climbs/falls on top of me, our lips meet and we're once again kissing but this time there is no clothing between us, just flesh against flesh and she feels so good against me. As we kiss she is slowly grinding her pussy against my cock and I can feel her warm moisture, it feels so good. She starts to arch her back up a bit bringing the head of my cock closer to.....to where I know I want to be....but not yet.

In a quick move I roll us both over so that I am now on top. The sudden change seems to bring her out of the sexual trance she had been in.

"We can't. I've got to get home."

But now I've recognized a scent. Her scent. And it's got me HOT. But there's something else.

"Did you and Rick fuck today?"

She's quite, but the look in her eyes says it all. This has been a fantasy of hers for a long time. She's had sex with three guys in one day, but always cleaned up each time. Not tonight. I know without her saying a word that she's had sex with her husband several times today. I know without her telling me that he fucked her right before sending her to the airport to pick me up.

"You didn't shower did you?"

"No. We can't do this"

I reach down and grab my cock, running it up and down her, coating it in her lubricant.

"You've wanted to do this for a long time. Do you want me to fuck you? Do you want my cum in you so you can go home and fuck Rick? You want him to feel my sperm inside you like I can feel his right now?"

She nods.

"This is so dirty, so nasty. We shouldn't."

But her eyes say she must. We have to. There is no way she'll go home now without my cum. Not on her. Not on her breasts. Not on her ass. Not on her belly. Not in her ass. As tired as she is, she's got to have my cum deep inside her to fulfill this fantasy. She's wanted this far too long. So has Rick. So have I.

In one quick thrust I enter her completely and stop. I kiss her hard. It's as if we have become one. She feels so warm, so wet, so wonderful. Her pussy does feel different somehow, I can tell that she's been fucked. I make one slow stroke, all the way out and then slowly all the way back in. It feels so good and I can tell by the way that she's kissing me that it feels just as good to her.

But it's too much. This is so naughty. I'm in a hotel fucking my married girlfriend who has just fucked her husband and is going to take her pussy full of my cum home to fuck him again. It's naughty, it's sexy and it's going to make me cum quick if I make one more stroke.

My mind is working overtime. I've got an even more naughty idea. I wouldn't have considered it even hours ago. But somethings got hold of me and I'm in a very horny mood. Besides, if our weekend goes as planned I'll be in bed with the both of them tomorrow night and the odds are very good that I'm going to be the first guy to suck his cock, to swallow his load.

So I didn't waste any more time thinking about it. I knew that what I was about to do would shock her, send her over the edge. And it did. I slowly withdrew my cock from the warmth of her pussy the, when I was out, quickly slid myself down so that my face rested between her thighs. She looked down at me.

"Don't. I'm not clean. You can't."

I did. With both hands I spread her lips apart to get a good look at that beautiful pussy. Then, in one quick move so I wouldn't start thinking about it and think my way out of it, I planted my face firmly against her. My nose just above her clit, my tongue at her enterance. Normally I work the clit first, but not tonight. Tonight I sank my tongue right into her, fucked her with it, tasted her. And she tasted great! Better than I would have imagined. I love to eat pussy, could do it for hours. And I've never had a complaint, lots of compliments. But this....this was different and I could do this until someone carried me off. It was that good! But her movements told me that suddenly she was as close to a good cum as I had been minutes ago. She was tired, I wouldn't drag it out and make her wait. I moved to her clit, sucked it in, flicked it with my tongue.....she launched into orbit! Only the second time she had ever cum by oral sex....and both times by me. A guy can take pride in something like that.

I knew she would fade fast now, tired as she was. But the fantasy required more. I kissed her for a minute, maybe a bit more, gave her body just a little time to come back down. But that was it. I needed to fuck. Not just to cum, I needed to fuck and fuck hard. She wasn't just going to get my cum deposited into her, we weren't going to make love like we usually did. This needed to be a hard, fast fuck.

"I know you like to be on top, but I love looking at your ass. And I want to cum deep inside you. Get up and let me fuck you from behind."

She looked at me as she got up to position herself, never really taking her eyes off of me as I stood by the bed waiting. You could tell that she was tired, her body was tired, but she wanted this more than anything. The look in her eyes told me more than I could ever hope to put into words.

Up on all fours she waited for me to get behind her. She didn't wait long. In this position her pussy was wide open and meant for my cock. I slid right into her, all the way and took just a moment to take in the view. Her ass looked so good, all that flesh with just the right curves. I slowly pulled my cock about 3/4 of the way out and the look of my cock inside her, her lips pulled back against it, her ass up and exposed to me....that did it for me. I began thrusting hard but slowly. I build up speed but kept a steady pace pulling almost all of the way back and slamming all the way in. She was slamming her ass back toward me with as much effort as I was putting into it. When we met we would stop, grind, enjoy the feel of it for just a second before repeating again. After about three minutes of this, my balls were tight and I was ready to cum. After more than a week without sex I was finally ready to cum and cum hard. And I did. When my cum released I pushed into her as hard as I could and held there, my cock pulsing, shooting and pumping my cum into her. Her pussy quivered and pulsed on my cock, the sensation of my cum so deep within her had set her into her second orgasm of the night with me. We just held like that, both of us in some sort of primal screem/grunt, maybe a minute or more. Then my body demanded movement. I slowly withdrew my cock then came back into her again. As I thrust into her my cock pulsed yet again and I swear I came yet again, several more spurts of cum inside her.

That was it. I was spent. She was spent. Somehow we managed to collapse together on the bed like that with my cock still inside her. We lay like that for a few moments before I had the strength to get up off her. As I did I noticed how wet my dick was and I reached down to slowly stroke my now flacid cock. She reached out to me, had me stand by the bed a moment as she got up and took my cock into her mouth. She sucked me, licked me, kissed me. Then I crawled into bed with her and we lay in each others arms for maybe 10 minutes. I felt her starting to doze off and, as much as I wanted to have her in my arms all night, it could not be.

I helped her get up, I dressed her. With a quick hug and kiss I sent her on her way home. Good thing she didn't have to go far, just a couple of blocks.

As soon as the door closed I called her husband.

"Denise is on her way, call me back if she isn't home in 10 minutes."

"Ok, thanks for letting me know. I'm suprised she didn't just stay the night with you at the hotel."

"She missed you Rick. You've been gone for so long and she loves you so much. I don't blame her for wanting to go home to you tonight. We'll get to spend our time together tomorrow."

"I know. But you didn't get to see her for very long tonight. I would have hoped that at least you would have talked her into sex. I know what it's like without it for so long."

"Hey Rick, do you really think we wouldn't have fooled around? No way. She's so fucking hot. And I love her too much. It's been 8 months since I was with her last. No, I got some time with her."

"You did? You know.....um....wow. I mean, we did it right before she left."

"Rick, I know. Thank you. I loved seconds. Just so you know, she didn't shower before leaving here. And I cam hard. Do me a favor and complete her fantasy. Then tell her to relax and sleep in, not to come get me before noon."

"Holy shit. I can't believe it. You're the best. She's never let me in her right after....I mean....wow."

"I know. Me either. Hey, you hard?"

"Oh hell yeah!"

"Good. Well don't let me shock you here but.....before I fucked your wife...."

"Yeah?"

"I ate her."

"Damn!"

"I know. It was one of those spur of the moment things. Fucking hot tho, you know?"

"Yeah. Damn, that is hot. Well, she just pulled up into the driveway. I'm gonna let you go. I want to get her to bed, see if I can have thirds.....maybe even...."

"Wow. I can't believe you're even considering it. Well make love to her for the both of us. And remind her that I love her. I'll see her tomorrow afternoon and the both of you tomorrow night."

"Good night."

END

A Slow Tuesday

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