0 comments/ 7718 views/ 0 favorites Loose Ends By: AchtungNight Foreword- This story shall serve as the end- for now- of my Erika Christensen saga. It shall revisit the plot briefly, to resolve some things built on in other stories and then left behind when my life traveled in another direction. Like all my stories, this one is fictional. Any real people in the story are used fictitiously. They are not known to the author outside their public personas and my own imagination. My intentions are not malicious- merely flattery, entertainment of my fans, and satisfaction of the creative impulses that make one produce stories such as this. Please send feedback if you like. I hope you are pleased by how this story goes. -- AN *** Los Angeles, California September 22nd, 2010. "I love you, but I don't want this life we have lived." Doug Ramsay had said that to her the last time they saw each other, now almost a year ago. She had asked him what he did want, and he'd indicated another woman to whom he had introduced her earlier that night. "It happened all of a sudden, Erika," he said. "A few conversations, a few dates, and I knew. She did too. It's been going on for a while now, plenty of ups and downs, but we're still together. It feels so right. I feel I have to leave everything else behind." "Including us?" "Yes," he replied in a pained whisper after a brief pause. "I never wanted to say this to you, but we have to face it. You and I are from separate worlds. A relationship between us would never work on a permanent basis. It's fun but it's not forever, not truly lasting. We both deserve something more than what we can give each other, and I want you to be able to find it. I think I already have." She had considered his words, and then nodded her head. "I hope you're right. Good luck." He thanked her and immediately afterwards walked away to be with his new love. Erika was glad there had been no attempt on either of their parts to draw things out, speculate about whether they could get back together if his new relationship failed or whether she might someday join them in lovemaking. She was entertained by the possibility, Doug was someone she always would want and his new love could be also, but then was not the right time to ask. It would have cheapened the relationships involved, they both had known. Her heart ached too, and nothing he could have done would soothe that. Even now, months down the road, she still felt a slow steady pain. I'll get over it, she told herself, sipping her cinnamon vodka soda. It was the drink he'd marketed all over the world, one of many things that made him rich. None of it had fulfilled him, she remembered, and in the end she hadn't either. Again, as she had many nights since their parting, she sat with the drink at a bar and thought that she needed to move on. First, though, she had to understand. Erika's life had changed greatly in the past two years. First she got a new actress gig- steady work on the hit NBC TV series "Parenthood". There was the turmoil of trying to make the show work, give it her all, the relief of a second season when it came, and the knowledge that her trial would continue even though a brief victory was won. She and Doug grew apart in that time, barely talking to each other for months. She was not offended when his new relationship started, as they were never exclusive, and she felt happy for him when she learned how things had progressed. Only at the end was she disappointed, when their inevitable parting took place. Afterwards, various other relationships in her life changed form. Every married couple she knew seemed content with each other and their lives. They didn't seem to need or desire the sex therapy and friendly counseling she had given them. Ryan and Scarlett, Keri and Shane, Tom and Katie- all had settled down around her and become mere good friends, little more. Even John and Kelly Travolta, who had spent the early part of last year grieving for a lost child, were now celebrating the conception of another. With that and everything else going on for them, there was no longer any room for Erika in their lives. Her roommate Alicia Witt had also moved out. Her career had taken off, with several films and TV roles that made Erika jealous when she took time to notice them. New relationships came too, brief but intense. Erika wondered why Alicia never seemed dismayed by any of them, never turned to her when they soured, only slept with her when no one else was available or a boyfriend wanted them together. It was like they were but intimate physically or psychologically, no longer both. Erika couldn't get close to any of the guys either. Then Alicia launched a recording career and went on the road. "I have to be out of town for a while. I'll see you when I get back." Seven months later, Erika was still living in the apartment alone. "It shouldn't bother me," was the conclusion she always came to when she reminisced. We're still friends. Every now and then we talk on the phone, text, email, twitter. I know we could always get together and have fun if ever she returned, or serendipity got us together again. She knows that too. Alicia is one of many girls with whom I have that kind of relationship. It's never disturbed me with any of them. It shouldn't with her, if that's what is best for us, if it's what she wants. What's really bothering me, she wondered, already knowing the answer. It was that all the people she knew were happy and she was not. Every conflict in her life seemed resolved. She had steady work, and it didn't seem in danger of going away. Relationships that were in limbo had been settled. There were no world-shaping matters depending on her to help guide them. The Friendship had inserted dedicated and competent managers into both sides of the Scientology conflict, and Erika was pleased enough with the continuing developments that she felt no need to intervene. We do not need you to do anything other than what you are doing now, her superiors had instructed. Matters will proceed without your influence, it is not necessary that you get further involved. The memory of the last thing she had done for that conflict brought a smile to Erika's lips. She had visited her longtime enemy Jessica Feshbach, a church fanatic who had damaged many people's lives with bungled counseling in the past decade, and given her a new assignment. She had done the same for Tommy Davis, a church public relations executive known for similar debacles and fanaticism. "The two of you are a liability to the rest of us," Erika had informed them. "After much meditation on the issue and discussing it with various people, I speculate that maybe there is a solution. You complement one another perfectly. Work and live together, see what happens. Maybe you will give each other enough drama and satisfaction that you won't need to mess up anyone else's daily life." The two had protested, then been surprised again when Erika stood firm. "I'm giving you both something you need," she answered them. "Jessica, your sister, my confessor, told me why you hate me so much. You've been jealous of me from afar for a long time, me and every celebrity. You think that in bringing us down while acting like a two-faced friend you can feel better about yourself, and you keep acting on the lie. Tommy has a similar problem in that he always wants himself and his issues to be the center of attention, always getting bored or offended when it's not like that. Don't argue with me, it comes out in your work all the time. The evidence is right here in your file. Anyway, I think you two are a perfect match. Putting you with each other is the best way to fix the issues you impose on other people. You two can either prove me right, or you can be dismissed from our organization. The Chairman backs me on this." Her last words, though not completely true, were enough to shut both Jessica and Tommy up. Afterwards the early-thirties couple began dating and soon married, the third time for him and fifth for her. Almost two years after their meeting with Erika, they were still together and apparently happy, and they had not made life difficult for anyone. One of the few couples I've helped even though I didn't sleep with either of them, Erika reflected with pride. Jessica's twin sister Melissa was also happy, with her work in the church charities and a fiancée. "I never thought it could happen for me again," the war widow had said of the relationship a week prior. "Then I met Charlie in Indonesia and things just clicked. You told me about him when you met him, before his SEAL training. I felt like we were close friends already. Our differences only made things right between us. He saved my life, I saved his, and..." she flashed a diamond ring at Erika, "the wedding's next April. Melissa Kurgan. I think I'll like the new name." "That's wonderful for you both," Erika replied. She hoped she could meet Chas Kurgan again soon and see if he retained his odd sense of humor. It would be good to reconnect with Melissa as well. She had been overseas often and hardly seen by Erika in the past two years. Everyone I know is happy, Erika thought, looking at herself in the mirror above the bar. The single people are too. Last time I talked to Evan Rachel Wood, she'd just broken up with Manson again, but she was laughing. She has a new part on "True Blood", one that's gone quite well this season. Lots of dates, nothing steady, but she was fine. I'm at a similar place in my life, yet I feel so different. I'm by myself and I'm not glad to be alone. "This is who you are," her inner voice whispered to her in dark moments. "You piece together the jigsaw of your character and the final picture is you finishing that same puzzle. You rip it up and start over, but it keeps turning out like that. You don't know what it means, where you should be going. Then you start to see madness lurking behind you. All your leads in life are drifting away, turned to smoke and dust. You've lost your way. Your life goes on unhindered, but often it feels like you haven't slept in a million years." "Excuse me," a man said, breaking Erika's reverie. She turned and looked at him. "You're Erika Christensen, aren't you? The girl from 'Swimfan', 'Parenthood', and 'Six Degrees'?" She paused before answering, giving him a brief appraisal. Handsome in the way she liked, dark-haired and well-built. Dressed okay, smelled fine, no hint of danger she didn't want to deal with. He was holding a cell phone camera, so it was obvious what he wanted. "Yes," she responded at last. Then she flicked her curly blonde hair over her shapely shoulder, sat up on her stool, and gave him a suggestive grin. "Snap away." The man clicked his phone and put it on the bar, then sat down beside her. "Thanks. Do you mind if I put this on my Facebook?" "Not at all." Erika shrugged, adjusting her hair again. Her casual black blouse and jeans suddenly made her feel self-conscious. The blouse showed a little too much cleavage, or maybe not enough. The jeans seemed tight, and she shifted on her stool uncomfortably. Funny, they were just fine a second ago. She nodded and smiled again when the bartender clicked another picture of both her and the man at his request. "Can I buy you a drink?" he asked, finally putting away his phone. "Sure," she answered following a second of consideration. "Just don't expect things to go anywhere. I'm not sure what my mood is right now, and I don't know you as anything more than a fan." The man nodded. "We can work on that. Do you have anywhere else to be soon?" "Not till the morning." "Same here, so why don't we just talk?" "Okay." She tapped her glass and the bartender filled it. "About what?" she asked her suitor when the bartender moved away. "What are you thinking about?" That was it? Erika blinked, not understanding. She was used to guys talking about how they recognized and admired her, or talking about who they were. This one hadn't even introduced himself yet. "The look on your face," he explained. "I've been watching you for a while now, so I know you're thinking about something. That look says 'I need to talk to someone, but I have nobody to talk to'." She swallowed nervously and looked away. He put a hand on her shoulder. "It's okay. You don't have to say anything, but maybe it would be better if you did. I promise you, it goes no further." She read the honesty in his voice and decided to believe him. "It's just my life. Everything's great, fulfilling, but it's not complete and well..." She trailed off, not sure what else needed to be said. "Did your boyfriend leave you?" "Boyfriend, girlfriend, everyone." She looked at the reflection of her blue eyes in the polished bar. "I mean, they're all my friends, but... that's not enough. I have family, but that's also not enough. And my career isn't enough." "Your life's ready to evolve," he said. "You once needed all these things, but now they've served their purpose and you need something else. You're just not sure what yet, and you're drifting until it becomes clear." She took in the words and frowned, then realized she understood his meaning. Surprised, she turned to face him. "How did you..." "I've been where you are now. It's not an easy place to be in. You know you're building to something more important than everything in your life previously, but it's not yet here." Erika nodded. "And I really want it to be." The man chuckled, looked away from her and downed his drink, then turned back. "Well, I don't know if I can give it to you. You're probably too worried about your privacy to give specifics, we don't know each other, I don't even know what I'm doing here." He coughed. "If you want to talk, well..." "Stop," Erika shushed him, the right words all of a sudden in her mind. "I'm going to tell you something that may shock you but I want you to just listen, okay? If you're not comfortable talking to me after you hear it, you can walk away. It's fine. All right?" The man nodded, and Erika took a breath. Then she vented her feelings in a rush. "I'm an easy lay, a slut. I've been one for eleven years now. I've slept with just about everyone I've wanted who's wanted me. Friends, co-workers, even people I pick up in this sort of place. It's never gone anywhere for me that's been fulfilling. I mean, for a while, it is very fulfilling, but then it's over and my life goes on. It's always like that. I've been thinking about this a lot lately and now... now I don't know what I want." Her suitor frowned. "I don't want anything permanent from anyone specific," Erika went on, stammering a bit. "I know when it comes it will be right and beautiful. I can wait as long as I have to. But I think there's something inside me that..." "Something that you have to satisfy," the man cut in, "a temporary relief for yourself, until the other thing arrives." "Yes." Erika blinked again. "How did you know that?" "Been there, still doing that." He let out another chuckle. "If you want that from me, I'd enjoy it, and I wouldn't put it on my Facebook either, trust me." She smirked, waiting for him to say she'd enjoy it just as much as he would. Again she was surprised when he didn't say that. Maybe he realized whether or not she enjoyed things wasn't up to him. This unfamiliar wisdom was enough to make her want to take a chance. "Tell me about yourself. Who are you?" The answers came as easily as they did with any other man in her experience. He gave his name- Joe- and what he did for a living- setup and maintenance of stage sets. This turned into a conversation about their mutual experiences in the film industry and all its ups and downs. "It's changed a lot these days," he said at one point. "People think it's all about the effects and forget that's just one part of the picture. I like it better when the background is detailed, and you can see the characters and their feelings affecting the set." "And vice versa," Erika agreed, giving examples from her own films and others she had seen. Joe brought in his own thoughts and she gave her opinions in return. They then talked a little about recent celebrity news. "She's going back to jail and rehab again, I can't believe it. She tweeted about it the night before, like that would increase her popularity." "She was right." "Yeah. I knew her once, you know. I wanted to call her a friend. Then she just separated herself from me. Everything that's happened in the two years since has shown me why. I didn't really know her at all." "Don't feel bad. You aren't responsible for her, or anyone but yourself, really." "I know." She sighed and moved the discussion to 'Parenthood' and how well its cast worked together. "We're a family, as much as my real family. I love it." "I loved your daughter's line in the season premiere last week. 'Mommy, did I come from a vagina?'" Erika laughed at his mime. "I'm glad I could prepare for that comment, what parent has such luxury in real life?" "Your reaction was probably the same as any real parent's would have been." "The good ones, anyway." "Agreed." After a bit more talking, accompanied by drinks, they headed out. "Your place?" he asked. Erika told him she wasn't ready for that yet, so they walked to a nearby motel instead. "My place is actually in Burbank," Joe explained, "long drive. I had a commute up here today, and the kind of day where you need drinks after work." Erika grinned. "Am I a bonus?" "Um, if you want to see it that way, sure." She laughed. His pause preceding the statement had earned him a few extra points. It happened slowly once they got inside the room. He asked her what she was comfortable with doing and she answered, "Whatever you want. I'll stop you if it goes somewhere I don't like. You do the same for me, okay?" He nodded, then moved close and gave her a kiss. A good kiss, quick but passionate, which left her amazed. She pulled back and breathed, then returned his kiss with one of her own packing equal vigor. He was but a few inches taller, and she had had lots of practice, so it was easy. When she had to breathe again, she pulled away and pushed him back, indicating the bed with a flick of her eyes. He took the hint and maneuvered that direction, taking her hand in the process and pulling her along. Erika went of her own will and then their hands were all over each other, previously unimportant details flashing in her mind. He had rough warm skin, darkly tanned from working outside. His clothes came off quick and easy, revealing the developed muscles beneath. His soft hair curled well between her fingers. His touch on her body made her insides shake, a familiar but very welcome sensation. One by one, her clothes were removed. His hands played along her skin all the while, exciting her and provoking equal response. Joe's lips were on her mouth, then her cheeks, her neck, and finally her bosoms. Her bra's front clasp was unfastened, and then they were on her buds. One was sucked, then the other, until both were erect. His hands pinched her nipples and then moved down across her stomach. His cock hardened in the process, Erika felt. She smiled as she pushed down his pants. Then her hands were on it, stroking it to full attention. His fingers were in her panties, drawing moisture from her vagina's depths. They moved out and caressed her inner thighs, traveled back and squeezed her rear. A few seconds later, they returned to her folds. She gasped as they stroked her hard and fast. As she tightened, his fingers were pushed out and her sensations increased in volume. Breathing slow to calm herself, she took his hands and moved one to her cleavage, leaving the other where it was. Two of his fingers remained inside her provoking spasms. His other hand moved to her breasts, tickling the undersides and arousing the aureoles. One of her hands was squeezing and fondling his manhood. The other trailed along his back, caressing the muscles and ready to grab his hands again should that become necessary. Loose Ends I am filled with mixed emotions as I drive to Theresa's house to pick up the last of my belongings on this hot summers day. Apprehension lurks in the background of my mind, while anger simmers not far from the surface. But most of all, sorrow dominates my state of mind. And my heart. Over the previous month I have struggled to keep myself together, reflecting over what went wrong and wondering if or how I could have done things differently. Our break up was not particularly nasty, but it was a long time coming. She and I have plenty of history and I feel that picking up the dregs of my belongings that remain at her place will be the last and final act in this little drama that was once something special and great for the both of us. I can remember a time, not really that long ago, when I was happy and felt lucky to be with her every day. Even just one year before we broke up, I remember how we had danced at our friends Karla and Tom's wedding reception, and I had looked at Theresa, so beautiful and perfect. I had thought to myself that it was about time I bought her a ring and popped the big question. Like I said, we once had it really great. The fact is I still miss us and what we had. Well, I miss all the good times. And there were plenty of them too. I have gone over our relationship many times in my head, remembering how happy we once were, and how we could maybe have worked through our problems better. I think about how, when we first met, we became inseparable, and my mind often drifts to that night we met at Karla's party. ~~~~0000~~~~ I had first seen her standing across the room, chatting and laughing with Karla. She really stood out from the crowd because she was tall, at least six foot, which is almost as tall as me. She had thick long dark hair that fell down to the middle of her back like a wild glossy black waterfall. Her facial profile was strong, but her features softened when she laughed. I noticed that her legs were impossibly long and that her skin was a medium brown complexion that looked unbelievably flawless and silky smooth. Karla noticed me watching them both across the room, her face lighting up with a smile and she waved me over to them. She introduced me to Theresa, this impossible beauty with whom she was chatting, and who smiled as I looked into her dark eyes. I smiled back and we shook hands and I noted how her handshake was as firm as mine. Our first ever contact. She spoke with a thick Kiwi accent and we hit it off with each other right from the very start, spending the next few hours chatting, drinking and dancing together. We were both enthralled by each other and at the end of the night I asked Theresa for her phone number, which she gave willingly and asked me for mine too. "Just in case you don't call," she laughed, and then flashed me a beautiful smile. She was as keen on me as I was keen on her. ~~~~0000~~~~ We started dating and everything went smoothly. She and I seemed to have a strong connection, getting along with each other like a house on fire. After our first date we agreed that we both wanted to keep seeing each other. I couldn't stop thinking of her, and later on she confessed to me that she couldn't have got me out of her mind even if she had tried. We spent hours talking on the phone and at some point we discussed how we thought we should try and take our budding relationship slowly. We told each other how, in the past, we had both taken things much too fast with our respective ex's, and those never worked out. That's the funny thing about ex's I suppose. Theresa and I managed to 'take things slow' for just three dates before our collective wills broke and we ended up back at my place, stripping each other naked and making wild passionate love with each other for the first time. And when I say wild, I mean wild, as we spent four or five hours in insatiable ecstasy with each other! That night we discovered that we were very compatible in the bedroom. And the lounge room. And the kitchen. And the bathroom. Our loving became a very regular occurrence and she was a very passionate lover, to which I responded in kind. We couldn't keep our hands off each other. We spent more and more time at each other's places, spending whole weekends in each other's arms, sharing our bodies and giving each other the greatest pleasure. We fell madly and utterly in love. We discussed things about our respective lives, such as our dreams and aspirations for the future. We talked about how many children we wanted, agreeing that two would be perfect, and we even decided on what we would name them. I admired her determination, her ambitions and her strong will. She was loud, confidant and passionate about many things, and I found these qualities very attractive. And I found her physically beautiful, like no other woman I had met, with her two big dark eyes and full lips that were so very often formed into a big, gorgeous smile that dominated her strong face. And her beautiful body, that was muscular like an athlete, yet feminine like a swim suit model, with her magnificently firm breasts. She would tell me that she loved my intelligence and the way I look at things with different eyes to most people. She also told me that she loved the fact that I am strong, but that I have a refreshing sensitive side too. She would tell me that she loved how I make her laugh, and how I make her feel so wanted and sexy in a way no other man has ever made her feel. She told me that she loves me and that she knows I truly love her, like no one before. ~~~~0000~~~~ After a wonderful year and a half as a couple we were still blissfully happy and so we decided to move in together. I agreed that I would move out of my place and into hers. Initially things were fantastic. We loved the idea of living together under the same roof. We still couldn't keep our hands off one another, and we now had even more opportunity to do so. We loved the feeling of being domestic with each other, of cooking dinner together each night, washing up the dishes and then crashing on the lounge to watch the television. We mainly loved the familiarity of being together all the time. But that is where the problems started. It was just little things at first. For example, we had small arguments over the cleaning responsibilities. Apparently my efforts at cleaning weren't up to her standard. She felt I spent too much money and time on toys like my Xbox. I felt she spent too much money on shoes and dresses. She said I spent too much time watching football with my mates and not spending enough time with her on weekends. I felt she spent too much time shopping with, or chatting on the phone to her friends, and not enough time with me. We both have very strong wills and this caused us to clash. But these were all small issues and we both thought we could work through them. We were deeply in love and we only had eyes for each other. Our sex life was out of this world and we still had a lot of fun together, making each other laugh. So, despite having a number of small issues, we were mostly happy. Sometimes I still reminisce about the long happy drives in the countryside Theresa and I used to take on weekends, or the holidays we had, interstate and overseas. Every now and then she and I would go to a night club and stay up dancing until early in the morning, just for a fun night out. Afterwards we would catch a taxi back to our place, getting a kick out of pretending to be strangers who had just picked one another up in the club for a one night stand, giggling and kissing passionately in the back seat, giving ourselves and the taxi driver a little thrill. More often than not though, we just had quiet nights at home watching DVDs on the lounge, lying against one another. Then there was the trip we took to her native New Zealand, to visit her family. Her mum commented on how good we look together and her father told me in private that he is happy because of his daughter's happiness. I guess he was thanking me for that. ~~~~0000~~~~ After four years together things had changed. We fought on a regular basis. I don't even remember why we fought half of the time. Our rows weren't particularly feisty to begin with, just tit for tat, and being the stubborn people we are, neither of us would give any ground. But over time our arguments became heated. There were times that she and I said some hurtful words to each other in the heat of the moment. Things tended to escalate from there. There was never any violence between us but we both managed to inflict damage on one another's hearts and soul with barbed words. We would both end up very upset and she would sometimes cry. I would try to comfort her, realising that we had gone too far, but it would be too late and she just wanted me to leave her alone. Then I would end up sleeping in the spare room. I began to spend more time at work, just to avoid our fights. Our sex life began to suffer because neither of us felt like being intimate with the person who was making the other so upset. We tried to talk things through but sometimes I felt I was talking to a brick wall. She may have felt the same way about me too. We stopped having sex a couple of months before we broke up. Neither of us was initiating sex at all by that stage, which was so unlike our former insatiable selves who couldn't keep our hands of each other. The lack of sex was a symptom of the other issues we had, but it became the catalyst for our break up. We sat down one day to discuss how we felt, or no longer felt, and we admitted our relationship had become too toxic and decided it was best to part ways. ~~~~0000~~~~ I haven't seen her for the entire month since we broke up but I know that my flame still burns for her. I still can't stop thinking about her and how we both ended up in this unhappy place where we thought we would be happier without each other. That is why my emotions overwhelm me. I feel a twinge of nerves as I press the doorbell, wondering how she will receive me. Theresa answers the door and I can't help but think that she looks amazing, as she always has in my eyes. She is wearing a casual black singlet top that barely contains her breasts, and tight little shorts that expose her long legs, but I know she isn't trying to look sexy on my account because this is the familiar comfortable getup that she wears around the house on hot summer days. She gives me no smile and responds to my greeting with a curt, "Hello." But we still manage to give each other a quick hug. She invites me in to collect the last of my belongings, which includes a box of photo albums and some books that I had left on the bookshelf. At first she is cold, ignoring me and going about her own business as if I wasn't there. I take two box loads from the house to my car, and as I walk back and forward through the house I notice, with some sadness, all the familiar things that I bought her over the years. There are a couple of paintings, several books, and then there is the indoor palm tree in the corner which we had named Reg and joked was our pet plant. Before I finish collecting my belongings I notice that she is watching me and she smiles a weak smile and her cold attitude toward me softens slightly as she asks if I want a cup of coffee. I know I should really get going back to my own place but I decide to stay for a coffee and catch up with her. She is still my friend, I think. At least, I would like for she and I to remain friends. We have a chat over coffee out on her back deck. In better times Theresa and I used to sit out here in the two comfy cane chairs and chat and laugh for hours. This time our conversation starts with some awkwardness as she tells me that she has been okay and is just getting on with life. I tell her the same lie, that I am okay and that I too am just getting on with it. At some point in the conversation she asks the same question that was on my own mind. "So," she tentatively asks, "Have you been seeing anyone?" She has always been forward and straight to the point. "No, of course not. It's much too early for me." I am telling the truth because I need time to get over her in my own way. I couldn't even imagine dating anyone else yet. "How about you?" "No, much the same as you," she replies. I feel a sudden sense of relief wash over me. She is a very sexy woman and I am sure other men would definitely be interested. She has always had many admirers, but when she and I were together she always made it clear to other men they had no chance with her. During our relationship I felt totally secure in knowing she only had eyes for me. But now I worried, with some guilt because I knew my thought was selfish, that she would move on with someone else. There is an awkward silence between us now and I suppose it is time to leave. "Well, I better get going then," I say, awkwardly. "Yes, okay," she replies, equally as awkwardly. "I'll let you out." We walk to the front door and she gives me a weak little smile that comes out more like a grimace, with her lips pursed together. I detect a genuine sadness in her eyes and I wondered if she can see the sadness in mine. "You take care of yourself," I tell her. "You too," she says. We give each other a long goodbye hug. Neither of us seems too eager to end it though. We share a goodbye kiss that is just supposed to be a peck on the lips. But her lips linger on mine a little longer than a quick goodbye kiss should probably linger. My mind is telling me I should break the kiss and tell her that I have to leave, but instead I kiss her back. We kiss each other harder and our tongues that were once so familiar with the other rediscover each other's embrace. We pull each other closer and tighter, our bodies pressing together in a perfect fit just like old times. The familiar way our two bodies melt into each other is comforting to me and quickly I become very aroused. Theresa notices too and without any hesitation she begins to pull me towards her room. I don't even try to resist as I give in, letting her drag me to the room we used to share as a loving couple. I know I am giving in to her 'wants' again, but how can I resist? She has initiated this time, and it has been a long time coming, for she has not initiated sex with me for over six months. However, this time around isn't going to be one of the marathon sex sessions that we used to engage in, with plenty of foreplay, exploration, and breathtakingly amazing intercourse followed by plenty of cuddles and after play. This time is going to be hard and fast, like the quickies we sometimes used to have when we were super hot for each other, but hadn't the time to spend ages making love. My brain tries to process a million contradictory thoughts about this beautiful and incredibly sexy girl who, until recently, I shared my life with, and for whom my fire still burns. I know she and I can't see eye to eye, and that what we are about to do is a very bad idea, but my body's reaction is eroding any common sense or logic. The excitement builds up, with my dick super hard and stretching in my pants, threatening to split both itself and my pants at the seams. She and I are now ready to go, our hands clasping at each other's clothing as we strip each other naked. She practically rips my tee shirt over my head, as I roughly remove the black singlet top she is wearing. I reach around her back, my arms brushing her familiar smooth brown skin, and I unclasp her bra strap, removing her bra and exposing her gloriously firm and perfect breasts to me for the first time in many months. She reaches down and pulls my board shorts off as I pull down her own tight little shorts at the same time, making sure I take her panties off with them. In no time Theresa and I are both naked, her raven black hair falling wildly around her brown shoulders, some tendrils falling further against her ripe breasts, but neither of us is stopping to admire the views that we both know so very well. I put my hands around her waist, feeling her skin again, roughly caressing up her body that once was so familiar to me, skirting round her boobs, then rubbing up under her shaven arm pits and tracing my hands up the length of her arms, to interlock my fingers tightly with her own above her head. It is my turn to take control and I kiss her deeply, our tongues dancing together just like in the good old days. We break our kiss and she stares at me with her dark eyes that have a look that is a mixture of excitement and defiance, her lips slightly parted, menacing white teeth showing through the gap. I stare back, holding her gaze with a similar look as my mixed emotions course through my being. The tension between us feels thick and exciting, and, just like the times when we were fighting, neither she nor I are going to give any quarter this day. With my fingers still locked in hers, I push her down on the bed, not too roughly, but with a little force so she knows this is not gentler, old me that she was used to. She doesn't resist me though and I clasp her hands above our heads, near her pillow, pinning her to the mattress. As my face hovers above her I see the wild excitement in her eyes, which is a look that used to be so familiar to me and one that has been sorely missed, since being replaced with a look of anger, disdain or resentment. I too am excited by the passion of this moment, my cock harder than a tungsten rod and poking out like an arrow from my groin, pointing towards its deliciously soft and wet target. I feel a feral excitement rising in me. I still love this girl but I feel that she hurt me. Well, I do know we have hurt each other. But despite all the pain, at this moment in time we want each other's bodies like an addict wants crack. I push down into her, my hard cock up at her entrance and I feel the lush moisture of her dripping wet opening against the throbbing head of my engorgement. I still hold her hands to the bed, forcing them down with my strength and I feel her struggle just a bit. But I know she wants this as much as I do. I push into her, penetrating her, and feeling her lush insides envelop my length as I slide up into her depths, rediscovering her inner chamber from which I was banished from many, many months before. She gives a little gasp and meets my thrust with equal force, claiming me all the way to the base of my cock where it meets my testicles. I am in her deep, as far as I can go, and I stop for a second or three, relaxing my grip on her hands for the first time, and then let them go altogether. I put my arms around her shoulders and her own arms released from my grip wrap around my body in a strong embrace. I revel in the moment, that I have reconquered her in the most intimate way possible. While it also crosses my mind that she too has reconquered me, I don't care. We are, for a brief time, lovers again. I know her so well though and we both know our limits and what each other is capable of. I have no desire to physically hurt her, but she and I still glow with an anger that neither of us really understands. I pull my length all most all of the way out, and then thrust back hard inside her. The feeling of my dick sliding deep into her warm wetness is amazing, as it always has been. Her full lips part a little, releasing another sharp gasp, as her eyes open a little wider, locking firmly on my own. I stare intently at her and she stares back. As I begin a rhythmic, and not so gentle thrusting, in and out of her slickness, I am still conflicted with all the emotion that brought us together and then ripped us apart. The hurt and anger of our recent and unhappy past, but also the love and passion I still feel for her. I burn with a smouldering aggression, and she can see it in my eyes and feel it in my thrusts. I see and feel the same in her, and neither of us gives way as we meet each other with equal force. I want to fuck her hard for the hurtful things she said to me, and yet I want to make real and passionate love to her over and over again, because I still love her. There is conflict between anger, hurt, love and passion. Loose Ends I have exceptionally uncharacteristic dirty thoughts that I never would have dreamt of while we were together. I think about pulling out of her mid thrust and spurting my jiz all over her face. I can't believe I am thinking this because it is so unlike me and I have never had such dirty thoughts before. Instead, I pound her mercilessly into the mattress. But each action has an equal and opposite reaction, and as she holds me in a fierce, vice like grip, meeting my thrusts equally as forceful, our bodies grinding and rocking together with aggressive passion. I have not forgotten how strong she is and we are locked like two pythons, squeezing each other and trying to get the upper hand, neither giving any slack. I take my confused emotions out on her vagina as I thump my dick quite a bit harder than usual into her. She feels great too and my mind begins to selectively forget all the problems we have had and what forced us apart. Short gasps escape from between her ripe lips with each outward breath. We push and pull, thrust and release, managing to get a rhythm up like in the old times when we made passionate love with the main intention of pleasuring one another instead of possessing each other like we were now. As we hump, the seal the between my engorged penis and her wet vagina sometimes breaks, pumping air through the gap and making loud sucking, farting noise. The skin on our sweaty flat bellies is also locked hard together and makes similar noises when air gets forced into any gap that forms between our writhing bodies. Once upon a time we would have laughed at this, but now we just take each other lustily, grunting, gasping and grinding together. I kiss her hard on the mouth and she returns the kiss with as much force and passion. Grinding away at each other, I kiss her on the neck, sucking at her smooth brown skin. She begins to moan, calling out for God and even calling my name. Our orgasms are now arriving fast, the pressure rise in me as I kissed near the base of her ear. I am ever so tempted to whisper, "I love you," into her ear, but I don't dare, sucking vigorously on her ear lobe instead. She calls out my name as I slide deep within her one more time, and I feel my body lose control as the tingles of climax build within me, and then explode, pumping great wads of cum juice into her. She cums hard too, shuddering in orgasmic pleasure. I unexpectedly feel an uplift of happy emotion that this most beautiful girl with whom I once wanted to spend the rest of time with has taken a great pleasure out of our union and a large part of me still wishes that I still could still spend the rest of time with her. As we begin to slow our movements, I give her a very gentle and loving kiss, the first gentle kiss since our kiss at the door. She kisses me back, sweetly, just like the old times. We are both drenched in sweat from the passion of our sex and the humidity of the summer heat, and the bitter-sweet scent of our sex permeates the room. As we rest, catching our breaths, my brain kicks back into gear. I am not regretful about what she and I had just done, but I know it most probably won't save us and reinvigorate the old relationship we once had. I am reluctant to leave her body though. Part of me – okay, all of me, wants to stay here, with her, inside her, belonging to each other like we once felt we used to. I could lie with her for the rest of time, just holding each other. I know that when I pull out I may never have that connection with her again. I know I still love her. But this time there will be none of the post coital cuddles that we used to love every bit as much as our sex. She wriggles under me and I roll off and lay beside her. We both lay like that in silence, lost in our own thoughts, staring blankly at the ceiling fan that spins above her bed. In my head I chastise myself for having such angry thoughts about her. I have calmed down though and common sense helps me realise that our relationship demise was not just her fault and I know that I had a hand in it too. "That was hot!" she says, breaking the silence. "I had almost forgotten how good we can be together." "Yeah, we do know how to get some things right. I just wish we were more compatible with the rest of our relationship too." With a hint of sadness, she agrees with me. She tells me that she is still hurting because we had hurt each other and were no longer together and I tell her I feel the same way. We discuss the possibility of reconciliation, but in the end we both agree that we need time apart and that, at the present time, if we got together again, we would probably end up going down the same road and would reach the end quicker the next time. I think we both get some small comfort from a scant possibility that sometime down the track we would perhaps reconcile. We dress and she walks me to the door again. And again we hug and I kiss her cheek. She gives me a weak smile, and as I see sadness on her face, it crosses my mind that this might even be our last ever contact. I reach out and caress her left arm, giving her a weak and sad smile of my own, and then I bend down in the doorway to pick up the last box of belongings that I have not yet taken to my car, before very tentatively turning and walking away. As I drive away from her place for the last time I feel a great loss and sadness, and it feels as if the past four years were only a dream. I wonder who will be the first to break and call the other. Perhaps down the track we might give us a go again. Though, knowing us both very well, I think we will be as stubborn as each other, waiting and hoping the other will call, and she and I will most likely hold out indefinitely. I wonder when, or if I will see her again. ~~~~0000~~~~ Loose Ends It was not. The odd telepathy from their conversation earlier once again came into play, and it was like they were moving in sync with each other. His hands and lips went where she wanted, and hers followed suit. The remainder of their clothes were removed and tossed away. They rolled on the bed, trying one position after another. Eventually they settled with him above her. Usually Erika liked being on top, but tonight she felt like surrendering control. Maybe that was my problem, she said to herself. Sometimes when you take charge of your life, you screw it up. Adapt to your environment, and you are happy. Force the opposite, and you are not. The breathless foreplay continued, chasing the thoughts from her brain. There was only their lips and hands, what they were doing at each moment. She felt his breath on her tits, then against her throat. She squeezed his shoulders and arms. Two of his other hand's fingers captured her clit and pressed it, the others tapping her legs. Their mouths met, tongues dueling for several long seconds. "Now?" he asked with a hesitant tremor in his voice. She shook her head. "One second." Pulling away from him, she reached into her pants pocket and withdrew her wallet. She took a condom out of the inner pocket and held it out to him. "Pays to be prepared," she explained with a shrug. "You're right," he replied, laughing as he withdrew the plastic from its packaging and rolled it onto himself. Then his attention returned to her body. It only took a few seconds for them to return to the point where they left off, and the reward was worth the patience. "Now?" he asked her again. Erika nodded, he moved up, and then he was inside her. His hard member thrust in and out. Her cunt muscles clenched it, increasing her sensations. Heartbeat increasing, she felt something rising inside her. She released a rapid series of moans, each heralding a possible climax. None panned out, but she sensed a similar path from his vibrations and breaths. Then he was erupting hot liquid bursts inside the condom, sparking tremors in her cleft. "Thank you, Erika," he gasped in rapid relief. She smirked, then moaned again as he concentrated his full focus on her now. He squeezed her breasts with one hand, massaged her lower back with the other. His cock, remaining hard despite its release, moved within her. His lips kissed and nipped at her ear. A few seconds passed, and she was moaning hard again. This time she was ready, and it happened. A sharp toe-curling come, shaking every fiber of her being and then pushing into her core. "Yes!" she cried, and he kissed her smile. Then he pulled back, slipped out of her, moving his hands away as the sensations settled down. "Okay." She heard an emotional distance in his voice, though he was but inches away. "That was good for me." "Me, too," she replied, putting a hand on his deflated manhood. She squeezed it and gave him another dazzling smile. "I'd like more of this, if you want to give it to me." He thought for a moment and then grinned back at her. "Sure. Can I, uh, use the bathroom first?" "Go ahead." She followed him with her eyes as he got up and retrieved his pants, then took objects from the pocket. First were two condoms he laid on the nightstand. "Pays to be prepared?" "Right," she concurred with a knowing expression. "This is my card," he said, placing a square of white paper next to the telephone. "Work and cell numbers. In case you need to leave and forget later, if of course you want this to go anywhere." "We'll see." She glanced at the card and reached a decision. "Your email's there, I'll send you my number next time I'm at a computer?" "Okay." "Uh, Joe?" He stopped at the bathroom door and turned to face her. Erika smiled, feeling nervous as his eyes lingered on her glorious naked figure. She savored the feeling for an instant and then voiced her concern. "None of this goes on Facebook, okay? Not that the media pay much attention to me, they never have, but I'm not the kind of celebrity who advertises my relationships." "I wouldn't want to be with someone who was," Joe said. "I'll be back swiftly." Don't take too long, Erika willed him. I want this to continue, as far as it takes us. If it's finally what I want, that would be wonderful. If not, at least I know what I'm in for. I'll take it day by day, hoping and longing, facing things as they come. It felt right, she reflected. It might not be; it might be over soon like all her past relationships. But maybe this time she would have the patience to find out. "I will do what I can to make it happen," she declared. "I think it could go that way if he's interested. I know I am. I want more this time, more than temporary relief." *** The End.