27 comments/ 222509 views/ 39 favorites A Simple Twist of Fate By: justified15 [Author's Notes] I took me several months to write and rewrite this story. I must say that for every story I post, I have another dozen half written. Finishing a story is always the hardest part. At one point I lost most of this story do to disk failure and my most recent backup copy only had the beginning part. I rewrote it and the story changed quite a bit. I usually start a story with a simple plot outlined in my head. But once the writing starts, I'm always surprised where it takes me. The plot changes as I type it and sometimes not for the better. I often have to rewrite parts of a story to make them all fit. Don't get me wrong, I love writing these stories. Sometimes making up an erotic story is much more exciting than reading one. I suspect that's true for most of the authors of adult material. ------ The Story ------------------- [A simple twist of fate] Joshua groggily got off the airplane, stretching his aching legs. A fourteen hour flight can do that to ya, he thought to himself. He wearily moved with the crowd towards customs and two hours later hopped on a bus that would take him back to small town USA where he was born and raised. Joshua had mixed feelings about his imminent return home. Four years in the infantry had changed him quite a bit. He was no longer the pigeon-chested wimp that had left for the Army right out of High School. He knew he could easily take any of the bullies that had routinely taunted him for years, so he wasn't afraid of any confrontation. Even though he wasn't looking for it. He also knew he hated his parents and probably his whole family. His father, Joshua had come to understand, was more closed off emotionally than anyone he had ever known. His mother had died from cancer when he was ten years old and his father remarried two years later. Although it just made his father retreat into himself even more. Joshua didn't mind that he remarried, but his step mother was from a rich family and always thought of herself as better than, well, anyone else. The new step mother had two sons and a daughter. He remembered moving into their colonial home on the good side of town. He was in awe of the house and furniture and couldn't believe that he was going to live there. His new mother told her boys, Chris and Jake, to show him to his room. Chris led the way, he being the oldest at sixteen with his younger brother, Jake following the two of them. Jake was fourteen. Chris pointed out the different rooms. He proclaimed loudly, "And this is my room. Take a good look now, cause you will never come in here again. Understand?" Joshua knew right then and there that he was not entirely welcome. Jake pointed across the hall and declared, "That's my room. Stay the fuck out of there too!" Joshua quickly took in the rooms, with there king sized beds, matching furniture and writing desks, perfectly arranged in front of large sunny windows overlooking the vast lawn and gardens. Each room had it's own elegant bathroom attached. His heart quickened and he decided that this luxury was worth putting up with these boys. He was quickly escorted down the hall to the opposite end of the old colonial house. Then up a narrow staircase that took three turns before coming to a small landing with two doors on the right and a narrow hallway with a door on the end to the left. This section of the house was not elegant at all. Chris pushed open one of the doors on the right to expose a dreary room with a small dingy window that overlooked the rear driveway and trash bins. He saw that his boxes of stuff were piled near the door. Jake told him, laughingly, "Your bathroom is down the hall. This used to be the house nigger's room, but we think you'll be right at home here." They both laughed at the expression on his face. Joshua held his hands up in mock resignation and tried to reason with them. He said, "Look, I know you guys didn't ask for me to move in here, but I didn't ask for it either. Can't we at least try to get along?" Jake laughed harder now, "Okay, okay, lets help you unpack and see what kind of person you are." With that comment they each grabbed a box of Joshua's things and dumped them on the floor. They ridiculed his stuff as crap and stole the few things they liked. They went through all of his boxes and by the time they left his hatred for them was cemented. The bus stopped at the Greyhound bus station on the corner of fourth and Ivy and Joshua snapped out of his reverie. He felt a wave of nausea as he stepped off the bus and surveyed his home town in the fading evening light. It had been four long years and he was surprised how being home affected him. He collected his duffel bag and then secured it in a locker in the bus station. He decided he needed a drink to settle his nerves. Five blocks away, he just finished his first beer when his old buddy, Jenson, came in from the cold. His name was Scott Jenson, but everyone just called him Jenson. Soon Jenson was filling him in on all the changes in the town. They carefully avoided Joshua's family, but eventually Jenson told him that Chris was now running the business that used to be Joshua's father's. Jake was still in college, but had gotten Samantha Jacoby pregnant last summer and had to marry her. Then Jenson said, "Oh, and your sister is dating Dave Borden." Joshua gasped at the thought. Dave Borden was the biggest prick he had ever met. And to think of him with his step sister, Traci, was just too much. Traci was two years younger than Joshua. He remembered how beautiful she had turned out to be. In fact, one day while Joshua mowed the lawn he almost ran over a bed of flowers as he stared as Traci sunbathing by the pool. Chris had noticed the incident and decided to teach him a lesson. He dragged Joshua over by Traci and told him to get a good look. Then he stepped behind him as Joshua turned red with embarrassment. Joshua tried to apologize to Traci, but Chris grabbed his shorts and yanked them with his underwear to his ankles. As he struggled to get his shorts up he fell to the ground and heard Traci laugh at him while Chris kicked him into the pool. Joshua had never been able to look her in the eyes again. After that day Traci joined her brothers in the sport of ridiculing Joshua at every opportunity. Her favorite nickname for him became dickless. Finally Jenson and Joshua decided to go by the High School for old times sake. It was cold and had started raining. Jenson was proud of his car. He had completely rebuilt the engine and proudly raced down the highway. The beer, rain and cold made a deadly combination. Joshua tightened his seatbelt right before the curve where they met an oncoming vehicle head on. Three days later Joshua woke up in pain. It was as if every joint in his body ached. There was a nurse over him saying something. He looked across the room and saw someone in a hospital bed that looked like a mummy from the chest up. Their beds were at right angles and he could see the blue sky out the edge of the window next to the mummy guy. Two days later he had awaken numerous times and by piecing together everything he heard and seen, he now believed his jaw and cheek were broken, as well as several ribs and both arms in multiple places. His buddy, Jenson was dead at the scene of the crash. The guy in the other bed in his hospital room was driving the car that hit them. He had very similar injuries as Joshua and his name was Dave Borden. The shock of it all was too much for Joshua. He tried to speak, but was unable to do anything but make the same grunting noises he heard from his new room mate. Both arms were in casts. In fact, he was in a half body cast from his chest up. He could hear everything being said to him, but had no way of communicating back. It wasn't until his sister and Chris came to visit Dave that he realized that nobody knew who he was. Halfway through their visit, two doctors came to his bedside and spoke to him. They asked him to communicate by moving his foot. He was able to do that. Then they asked him to blink twice. He did. Then he overheard Chris shushing Traci so he could overhear the doctors. Joshua now knew that the moment of truth was near. The doctor asked him, "Son, if you know where you are, blink twice." Joshua did. Then to doctor said, "We don't know who you are. Do you know?" Joshua realized that amnesia was an easy ticket out of this mess. When he came back to this town he wasn't sure if he would even see his family and now he was even more sure that he didn't want them to know who he was. Chris would probably torture him if he knew. Joshua blinked once. That evening Traci returned to visit Dave. Joshua could see her enter the room and then she pulled the curtain between the beds. She spoke softly to Dave and he grunted back. Then Joshua noticed the grunts became appreciative and soon they were rhythmic. Joshua was surprised that Traci would be so bold as to jack-off Dave in a hospital. But soon she cleaned him up and bid him good-bye. When she left, Joshua noticed she had left the curtain pulled. He was disappointed because he liked to look out the window. The next afternoon he watched as they wheeled Dave out of the room. They told him they were taking him for x-rays and lab tests. An hour later when the nurse came in to put a bed pan under Joshua, he grunted and pointed at the spot where Dave had been. He wanted to know what was happening to Dave, but the nurse asked him if he wanted to be by the window. Joshua decided communication was too difficult and blinked twice to appease her. The nurse dutifully pushed his bed with the IV poles and everything to where Dave's bed had been. Not ten minutes later they pushed Dave in through the door. The orderly asked, "I thought he was in 12A?" The nurse responded, "John wanted a turn by the window so I switched them. Just put Dave on the B side for now. I'll switch them back later." They had taken to calling him John Doe. Joshua thought it was funny to be called John. Joshua noticed that Dave was out cold. They probably had to medicate him pretty strongly. He knew because he had made the trip to X-ray and the lab the day before. Thirty minutes later Joshua woke up. Traci was at his bedside say, "Wake up sweetie." Joshua knew right away that she thought he was Dave. He grunted and Traci kissed his forehead. She asked if he had a hard day and he blinked twice and grunted again. She said with an impish grin, "I know exactly what you need. Do you want some relief?" Joshua grunted discouragingly and blinked twice. Tracie was surprised and then a look of recognition crossed her face. She smiled delightedly and said, "You little devil, you. I know what you want, but I don't have any, you know..." Then she leaned in close and conspiratorially whispered, "Protection." She sighed and said, "Oh well, I should be safe this time of the month." She jumped up and left the room. She returned with the night nurse who was saying, "... a great idea. Just don't get too wild. And don't worry about John Doe. He's so medicated he'll probably sleep until noon tomorrow." The nurse pulled the door shut and snickered a good luck to Traci. Traci pulled the curtain closed around the bed. Joshua's eyes got big as she started to pull her tight top over her head of long blonde hair. Her blue eyes glinted with anticipation as she undid her bra from her back and let it slide down her arms. Joshua stared at her beautiful full breasts. They were more perfect than any he had ever seen. Not too big or too small. Firm, but natural with reddish pink nipples that poked out like little top hats. They swayed back and forth as she pulled her shoes off and then she slid out of her skin tight blue jeans, revealing her long tanned legs and the tiniest thong panties. At this point she noticed the nice pup tent Joshua was creating with his sheet. She eagerly pulled the sheet and gown away and exclaimed, "Wow. You seem bigger and harder than ever. I guess it's been a long time now." With that said she bent over him and licked his penis from base to tip and then popped the head of his dick into her mouth and swirled her tongue all around it. Smiling she looked up at him with a naughty look and said, "You even taste better than before." Then she dropped her head to capture the whole cock in her mouth and began bobbing up and down with abandon. Joshua was in heaven. He hadn't planned this and certainly wouldn't have gotten in a crash on purpose just to trick his sister into a blow job, but he couldn't help but believe that God had finally noticed all the shit he had been through and now God was trying to make up for it. About five minutes later he felt the damn was about to burst. Traci stopped and pulled her skimpy panties off. She tossed them over his mouth and he could smell the scent of her pussy. Then she gingerly climbed up on the bed and straddled him. This caused some pain to his arms, but he wasn't going to complain. He had the perfect view of her gleaming wet pussy as she lowered herself onto his swollen dick. The head pushed in and then she settled herself down and he was completely buried into his step-sister's pussy. He realized then that he could die right then a happy man. It was the hottest most intense felling he ever had. Traci cooed, "Oh my God! You're bigger than ever right now. You feel soooo good inside me. I'll try to be gentle, but I just want to fuck your brains out." And she proceeded to do just that. Joshua made it last as long as possible. He never wanted it to end. He was in heaven. In fact, he secretly nicknamed Traci's pussy as heaven right then. And then he felt the thunder from deep within. Traci felt it too. She almost screamed, "Dave, Dave, Dave, fill me up Dave!" After Joshua came he stayed hard while Traci continued her frenzied ride and soon she grunted louder than he had and she shook the whole bed with her orgasm. She calmed down and leaned forward carefully to put her right nipple into the open slit over Joshua's mouth. He licked and sucked it as best he could and she whispered, "That was the best fucking sex I've ever had. You're my stud Dave. I love you so much. I can't wait until you're all better and we can get married." Joshua just grunted appreciatively. Traci fed him the other nipple and he grunted again. He could feel his cock getting harder. She noticed too and she slipped off him and the bed. Then she took his cock in her mouth again saying, "You taste so good tonight baby." Then she gave him an expert blow job. Her naked ass pressed up against his hand that was supported by the cast. She wiggled her ass as she slurped up and down on his cock so he wiggled his fingers into her hot wet pussy. By the time he blew his load into her mouth she was pretty worked up. She swallowed every drop and then climbed onto the bed and sat on his still hard dick. She fucked him a long time until they both came again. She was so excited she leaned close and said, "I don't know how you did it. Maybe it's the drugs, but you've never lasted more than three minutes before, much less cumming more than once." Joshua just grunted as she cleaned him up and repositioned the sheets and everything. She kissed him on the forehead and said good bye, promising to repeat the performance tomorrow night. The next morning a new nurse came in. She explained, "Melody, your regular nurse is on vacation for the next two weeks, so they asked me to cover for her shift. I usually work in the Cardiac unit, but I'm sure you boys wont give me too much trouble." She put both Dave and Joshua on bed pans and then checked their IVs. When she went to give medication through the IV she checked their wrist bands for ID. She looked puzzled because Dave Borden and John Doe were in the wrong beds. She went and asked the night nurse who told her, "You know what an airhead Melody can be. She probably put the bands on the wrong patients. Dave was still pretty out of it so the new nurse asked Joshua if he was John. He didn't really know what was going on, but he instinctively blinked once to indicate he wasn't named John. That was settled, the nurse had new wrist bands made and put them on the patients. Later that day, Chris and Traci came to visit Dave, but they came to Joshua's bedside. As they spoke to him he was surprised. Chris actually was concerned for him. He knew Chris thought he was Dave, but it was a shock to hear him talking nice to him. Dave, now completely awake, overheard them and became very upset. He couldn't speak, but he grunted loudly and thrashed his legs about. Traci ran to get the nurse and then the nurse tried to settle him down. Chris said to Joshua and Traci, "Man, that fucking idiot is psycho." Traci agreed. Joshua just giggled to himself. The nurse returned with a doctor who heavily sedated Dave. Chris and Traci bitched to the doctor and twenty minutes later, Joshua was in a private room. That evening Traci showed up even earlier. Now that he had a private room, she felt less inhibited. She checked with the nurse and then closed the door and pulled the blinds. Then she fucked him mercilessly. She had three orgasms and confessed to Joshua, "Dave, I can't believe it. Until last night I never had an orgasm from a cock. We fit together so perfectly and you last so long now. You fill me up sooo much. I love you and I don't care if I get pregnant. I can't wait to have your babies." And so it went every night for three weeks. Joshua was actually starting to get soar from all of the sex. He was also worried about the day they would find out about the mix up. The doctor and nurse came in and told him it was time to change his cast. They used a vibrating blade to cut away at the cast. When his arms were finally free he motioned for something to write with. The nurse and doctor agreed it couldn't hurt. Provided with paper on a clipboard and a pen Joshua wrote, "I"M NOT DAVE." They were stunned. The nurse quickly asked, "Who are you then?" Joshua wrote, "NOT SURE. MAYBE JOHN." A quick review of the x-rays revealed the awful truth. Their ID bands were corrected and then Chris and Traci showed up for visiting hours. A nurse stopped them in the hall right outside the door to Joshua's room. He heard Traci scream, "NO!!!!!" And then there was a commotion in the hallway. Joshua didn't know what happened, but he didn't see Traci or Chris anymore. He got better and a couple weeks later was able to talk a little. He had to have one more surgery to put his face back together. He heard that Chris had paid for everything. The best plastic surgeon was brought in for him. After the surgery Chris visited him. Joshua asked him why he had helped him. Chris said, he didn't know who he was, but he had his reasons. Two weeks later Joshua woke up to see Traci by his bedside. It had been almost two months since she had screamed outside his room. He stuttered, "T T Traci?" She replied, "John. I just wanted to see you." "I'm so sorry. I couldn't tell you. I tried." She put her fingers to his lips and said, "Shhhhhhh. I know. It was a terrible mistake." Joshua tried to apologize more, "It was terrible, but..." "I know. I was there too. I have to tell you something." Joshua didn't know what to say. He was mesmerized by her clear blue eyes and the soft smile on her pretty face. She gently took his hand in hers and said, "I didn't know it was you, but I knew you were different from Dave. I kept thinking Dave had turned into the perfect lover, but..... It was you." Joshua took a chance here, "You're so beautiful and I'm all messed up. I thought you were my angel. You gave me the strngth to survive this." Traci smiled even more and surprised both of them, "I think I love you." A Simple Twist of Fate Joshua gulped hard, "Traci, I..." She kissed him on the lips. Then she told him, "Don't answer now. It wouldn't be fair. I'll be back." That evening as Joshua contemplated this strange turn of events, Traci walked in. She held her finger to her lips for him to be quiet. Then she closed the door and the blinds. She said, "I have to know for sure if I'll feel the same, now that I know you're not Dave." Then she seductively stripped out of her clothes. She pulled back the covers and extracted Joshua's very hard cock out. She licked and sucked it. She got a little carried away and swallowed the length of him. He returned her enthusiasm by thrusting his pelvis up so his dick fucked her face. She climbed on the bed and lowered her wet pussy onto his throbbing penis. Then they fucked. They fucked for twenty minutes and Traci came hard yelling, "I love you John. I love your fucking cock!" Joshua decided to push his luck. He said, "I think I love you to. Tell me, have you ever had anal sex Traci?" She looked a little shocked, but then decided it was worth it. She said, "No, but if you want to, I'll try it with you." Joshua smiled now like the cat that ate the canary. Traci took that as a yes and pulled off his cock. She used her fingers to rub some of her juices from her cunt to her asshole. Then she slowly impaled her ass on his rock hard cock. It was very painful for her, but she thought of the pain he had endured and doubled her efforts until she came to rest on his pelvis. Joshua really couldn't believe his luck. His hot step sister had fallen for his cock. Now he was balls deep in her ass and she had done all the work even. Joshua believed this was equivalent to a religious experience and as she started to fuck her ass up and down on his dick he said, "Oh my God! I love you." The next morning Traci came to visit him again. She brought him flowers and held his hand. He looked into her eyes and saw she had been crying. "What is it Traci?" She sobbed a little, then, "I have something to tell you." "Go ahead dear." Tracy tried to compose herself and then blurted out, "I'm pregnant. I've known for over a month." Joshua was shocked. Not that she was pregnant, but that he felt vindicated in knocking up his sister. He said, "Is there a problem?" She sobbed for a minute and then told him, "Dave offered to marry me, but I couldn't stop thinking of you. I don't even know you and you don't know yourself. It's all so stupid, but..." She started crying again. Joshua just waited. Finally she calmed down and said, "You're the real father. I'm so glad you are, because, I can't be with Dave. He resents what happened, but mostly I loved what happened." She was crying again. After a long while Joshua squeezed her hand and said, "Look, I might be a bad guy, or I might be married with five kids, but it doesn't matter to me. I can't help how I feel. I'm ready to spend the rest of my life finding out who I am with you." Two months later Joshua and Traci were married. The rest of their family, Chris, Jake, his father and step mother were all there. They had no idea that he was Joshua. In fact, they barely even mentioned that a man named Joshua even existed. ----------- The End ------------ [Bad Legal Notice] Warning! If reading this type of material is illegal where you are located, then please forget everything you just read. 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. A Simple Twist of Fate "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. A Simple Twist of Fate The apartment was sterile. It had the feel of a hospital, and its white walls and soulless art radiated sickness. In its perfection, it was disgusting. Scott gave Stacey forty-eight hours to "do something" with her belongings and leave. Exiting her bed with her down, still groggy, she slowly marched towards the bathroom and filled up her tub with hot water. Usually, she took showers, but today she had different plans. As the water ran she looked in the mirror and studied her face. She was beautiful and she knew it, she never needed validation. She could see slight lines under her eyes, this was the only evidence of her toil, of working six or seven days a week and only getting four to five hours of sleep a night. She stepped into the tub and thought about her life and the choices she had made. She slid under the water, letting herself become fully submerged in the tub. She tried to relax. The idea was to resist the temptation to breath. Stacey imagined Scott finding her blue and bloated body floating in the tub. She imagined the people that worked under her feigning sadness while privately cheering in their head. "The evil bitch had it coming!" The closest thing her ambition got her to friends were allies. Stacey was desperately alone and it was entirely her own doing. Stacey looked up through the tiny distorted ripples of the bath water. White tile, spotless white tile. She blew bubbles through her nose, this was the first inkling of desperation. The battle had begun. Her body screamed at her to surface. Stacey knew that the body's drive to survive would send her into a panic, but eventually her body would give in and let her feel calm. Stacey closed her eyes, she didn't want to see the sickeningly sterile white tiles. Her brain searched for some beautiful memory to focus on. She remembered her wedding day. It too was repugnantly clean, it was so perfect that is was almost staged, it was never Scott she loved, just the idea of him. Stacey knew there was something wrong with her, every image she conjured brought up the same feelings of disgust, every memory that should have been a triumph was in some way wrong. It was all a lie! Stacey's body desperately told her to surface, she forced herself deeper into the warm water. Her body twitched and writhed. It was a struggle between her intellect and her instinct. Two separate wills within the same body in a life or death struggle. Something inside her told her that she must continue to live, but vindictiveness and self-hatred are strong motivators as well. She stayed under as long as she could, but the calm never came. Her instinct claimed victory. She surfaced, breathing heavily, her lips were blue, her wet hair fell all over her face, her breasts rose and sunk rapidly as she began to cry, overwhelmed and helpless. She was like a child crying loud cries is tortured hysteria. She would have to face the world for the first time as her true imperfect self. *** She wasn't married long enough to change her name. She was still Stacey Hinckley. She drove through the endless abyss that is northern Nevada. It is the kind of place so barren, that forces one to look inward. She was, of course listening to "Blood on the Tracks." The desert landscape stretched for miles. She had time to think, maybe too much time to think. How did it ever go so wrong? She was the successful one, the one her family bragged about, the one that made people jealous. She was the Valedictorian of her high school and graduated from Stanford as a Summa Cum Laude. Just a few months ago she was a 31-year-old executive in a PR and Marketing Firm in San Francisco. Newspapers interviewed her, people feared and admired her. She was married to an equally successful man and they were looking to buy a house in Walnut Creek. It was an affair with an older married investment banker that exposed her. She begged Scott not to leave her, but her affair crushed his ego and he was not willing to forgive the betrayal. No counseling, no long argument, just a clean sterile end. The investment banker's marriage fell apart as well. Stacey was faced with the epitome of shame. It was all too much for her to take, she could no longer pull off the facade of perfection. It wasn't even a year after her lavish wedding in Lake Tahoe that she had to confess to her family that she was getting a divorce. This was the hardest part, admitting a failure, a major failure at that. It was palatable how much her family and former schoolmates back in Utah reveled in her failure. Stacey could tell that it was somehow cathartic for them to know that Stacey Hinckley was indeed a human being. Now for reasons she wasn't even fully aware of she was heading back into the world that she left long ago. She was bound for Salt Lake City. The common conception is that women stray in relationships to achieve some sort of new emotional connection with another lover. Stacey felt no real feelings for the investment banker, no desire for anything more than a good time, it was really only lust. It was her own sexual drive that led to her shameful divorce and that was a hard pill to swallow. Her now ex-husband Scott had enjoyed his twenties, he wouldn't even tell Stacey how many women he slept with, he said he lost count. Yet Scott didn't seem to be interested in exploring his sexuality with Stacey. Scott was boring. It was so cliche, Stacey couldn't believe she made the mistake she did. She risked and lost her stable marriage for the excitement of a torrid affair. At least the investment banker didn't have any hang-ups like Scott, he fucked her in ways that Scott wouldn't. It was Scott's mindset, that either a woman was a wife or a whore. He couldn't bare to see his beautiful bride, the future mother of his children as a sexual being. So in Scott's eyes Stacey went from standing on a pedestal of sexless admiration, to being regarded as the vilest whore alive. She was no longer clean. Stacey tried to explain; she fucked up, it was a stupid mistake, it meant nothing. None of those things mattered to Scott. To him, she was now a dirty whore. He never shed a tear, he never raised his voice, but he did make her know she was worthless. She took a job as a Vice President for a database management company in Salt Lake City. This was in part to save face. The title Vice President sounded important when she said "Vice President" the job sounded like a promotion. The truth was that the job was less than lateral, it was actually a significant pay decrease. Stacey would miss the weather, the beauty and the youthful energy of San Francisco. Yet it was now soiled by her divorce. As she drove through the desert, she questioned herself and her decisions. She purposely didn't take many possessions with her. All she had was her Prius, her laptop and a small wardrobe of business suits. She was wearing a suit now, a black sheath dress, she wore an undershirt with a white collar. Her blonde hair was in a ponytail, she was wearing oversized dark glasses that were currently hiding her stunning and intense deep blue eyes. Her face exuded authority and confidence, yet somehow Stacey still looked youthful. This was not a natural state, Stacey worked tirelessly in front of the mirror to perfect the perfect executive look. Over time, it became second nature. Even in her current state, even alone, she kept her expressions aloof and detached. In San Francisco, she was considered an "evil bitch" by her underlings. She was young and a woman, if she did not strike fear into those who worked under her, she would never get the results she needed. Her reputation as an "evil bitch" was clearly hypocritical as she was no different from the equally ambitious male executives. The truth was, people resented being told what to do by someone so much younger and it killed them to know that she was generally smarter and more qualified than just about anyone. All of Stacey's life people had despised her for her ambition, beauty, and sheer perfection. Her serious attitude and drive separated herself from her peers at an early age. Her look and mannerisms reflected this separation. She floated above the fray. She achieved great things but made few friends. Stacey never played up her looks, she hid her body well underneath her usually conservative business suits. The fact was, though, her beauty was almost impossible to hide. Stacey had an hourglass figure and a washboard stomach. The high-heeled shoes she usually wore did nothing but enhance her long powerful legs and large posterior. Stacey was a bombshell, she could have been a movie star or a model. Stacey knew this, it was plain to see, but she did not want to use her body or her looks to be successful, instead she insisted on using her willpower and intelligence. She wanted to be a shining example, she wanted to break the glass ceiling into oblivion, she wanted to be on the cover of magazines and to be interviewed by journalists. In San Francisco, she was on her way. Now it was all gone. As she drove Stacey's mind was torturing her again. She was preoccupied yet again with sex. Her entire adult life she had felt it prudent to suppress her sex drive. She had to. If she let her sex drive run her life she could not achieve what she desired out of life. She wasn't suppose to be sexual, she was a leader, an example, a righteous member of society's upper echelon. Yet as she suppressed her sexual nature she felt like a statue, an inanimate object, and barely a human. She tricked herself into believing her nature was beneath her. This is why she hated herself for the affair, it was a momentary lapse, her first dalliance into debauchery, it was downright unfair, that this first slip-up led to such punishing consequences. As Stacey drove, she thought about men, all types of men; strangers, men she knew, archetypes and celebrities. She imagined them with her in all the ways she wanted. She was tired of hating herself. Stacey pulled her car into a gas station in the middle of nowhere in northern Nevada. She was blasted by the heat as she stepped out of her car. She dusted off her black sheath business suit. She took off her dark glasses and threw them onto the unused passenger seat. Stacey looked up and was temporarily blinded by the sun, she was forced to squint and shade her face with her hand. She could feel a thin layer of dust sweep against her body as she put her credit card into the gas pump. As she pumped her gas, a man caught her eye. He was also pumping gas, he was filling up a small truck. The truck was rusted, the front windshield was badly cracked. The man himself was a curious sight. He had long brown stringy, sweaty hair, yet he wore a suit. it was a fashionable suit that fit him well, the man had a strange allure. Stacey believed he was some type of musician based on the guitar case resting snugly fastened by a seat belt into the passenger side of the man's truck. The man noticed Stacey as well. Both of them looked like fish out of water in their current environment, it was clear that both her and this man were simply passing through. Stacey imagined he was her antithesis, yet somehow a kindred soul. He was handsome and most likely talented, yet he didn't seem to chase money. Stacey imagined a folk musician or a classical guitarist who refused to compromise his art. Stacey thought deeper, she was giving the man a backstory simply because she was attracted to him, she wanted to imagine a situation in which they would forge an unlikely romance. Stacey realized that this was an unrealistic and unnecessary endeavor. The man was a stranger, she liked the mystery, romance be damned, she wanted sex. Maybe it was loneliness, maybe the isolation, maybe the unprecedented time to herself, but Stacey started to have wild racing thoughts. These thoughts intrigued her and tempted her. Her usual defenses against her own desires were compromised. Stacey watched keenly as the man walked into the convenience store, the gasoline still pumping into his truck. Seconds later he emerged with a key attached to a brick and walked up to the bathroom door which was located on the outside of the building, he unlocked the door and let himself in. Stacey looked around the empty dust filled the desert landscape, a single car buzzed by, Stacey's hair slightly shifted, she smiled and bit her bottom lip. She began to walk towards the bathroom door. Her heart was racing, she paused standing by the door. Closing her eyes, she gently turned the knob of the bathroom door. It was locked. Stacey swallowed, she examined the door, white spray paint was scribbled everywhere. Stacey heard the faint sound of the water running, soon the stranger would open the door and if Stacey didn't walk away he would immediately be faced with her looming next to him, it would be awkward and embarrassing. Stacey didn't know what she was doing, she was getting cold feet. She had no clear plan, but she knew that if she didn't walk away, she would have to give into the stranger's allure. Then before she could turn around, the stranger opened the door and was startled by Stacey's presence. Without thinking, she approached him, putting her face near his, backing him slowly back into the bathroom. He was wordless, he was probably too shocked to say anything. Once in the bathroom Stacey kissed him and he reciprocated. Stacey felt a surge of adrenaline and sexual desire. She closed the door behind her and continued with her aggression. He smelled strangely good, his perspiration was odorous but still slightly pleasing. Still aggressing, Stacey pushed the stranger back and pushed his shoulders down so that he sat on the toilet. The more Stacey looked at the stranger the more attracted she became, his dark eyes, looked bewildered, yet somehow comforting. There was an immediate raw and visceral connection between the two of them. As the bathroom light flickered, Stacey could see graffiti all over the disgusting bathroom. The mirror was broken, grains of sand were strewn about the concrete floor. Brown and gray stains covered the walls. The bathroom was obviously not regularly maintained, it was obscene. Stacey began to unbutton her collar, the Stranger watched in silence. Wasting no time, Stacey removed her dress and let if fall on the filthy floor, she revealed her black lace bra and panties. The stranger let out a deep breath of approval when Stacey unclasped her bra to reveal her pert breasts. Stacey stepped out of her high heels and pushed them away with her feet. Looking the stranger directly in the eyes, with a lusty stare Stacey slowly removed her panties sliding them down her legs, they stepping out of them, revealing her completely and totally naked body. The stranger examined her from head to toe, he saw her delicately trimmed bush and let out a subtly exhale of approval. Stacey lowered herself to her knees. Her knees harshly pressed into the cold hard concrete floor, small grains of sand embedded themselves into her flesh. Stacey breathed deeply and slowly unzipped the stranger's pants, she reached through the fly of the stranger's black boxer briefs and gripped his rock hard cock. Stacey swooned, it was long and thick, longer and thicker than either of the men she had been within the last year. She pulled the Stranger's cock out of his fly exposing his shaft. Stacey's mouth began to water as she lusted after the large circumcised cock. She kissed the cock's head and looked up at the stranger with a fierce lust. With her free hand, she felt her own wet arousal and then she spit on the stranger's cock. He let out a delightful little moan, as Stacey began to suck. She worked the cock slowly, sliding her wet lips and tongue over the shaft, she moaned muffled moans as she intimately felt the smooth flesh of the cock's shaft. She briefly looked up at the handsome stranger as she slowly sucked him off, his eyes were closed, he was basking in the physical pleasure of Stacey's fellatio. He was seemingly tuning everything else out. Stacey meanwhile reveled in her debauched state. She felt more naked and vulnerable than she ever had before. Her position on her knees, opened her to the stale air of the filthy bathroom, each time she bobbed her head, she felt the putrid air touch her asshole. The situation was uneven. The stranger was still in his suit, with only his cock shaft exposed, yet Stacey was fully and completely nude. Her hands harshly gripped her naked thighs, as she sucked deeper on the stranger's cock. She stopped her fellatio and reached into the Stranger's fly again, this time feeling his balls. To Stacey's surprise, he was shaved, approving of this revelation she hastily pulled them out of the fly and greedily licked, lapped and sucked. She jacked him off with her hand. She but his balls in her mouth tasting their sweat and enjoying it. Stacey couldn't help but moan, as she licked and sucked on the stranger's balls. Unable to think straight from the pure adrenaline and ecstasy Stacey started to again suck the stranger's cock. He moaned out, and she could feel his hands lightly touch her hair then recede. Stacey appreciated the stranger's restraint, yet she longed for him to be rough. She looked at him with her intense blue eyes, continuing to suck his cock passionately. She did not blink, the stranger matched her stare. Then wild and rapturous he pulled at his hair. Stacey felt a small spurt of semen in her mouth. She reached out and grabbed the stranger's hand and placed it on top of her head, beckoning him to push her mouth down on his cock. To fuck her mouth. There she was, a powerful business woman on her knees completely naked in a rank and disgusting gas station bathroom. A mostly clothed stranger pushing her mouth down harshly on his cock. She gagged, drool and cum dripping out of her mouth. She felt his cock slam against the back of her throat, she felt his soft balls press against her chin. It was dirty, deplorable, shameful, humiliating and degrading, yet she had never felt so aroused. She had never felt so alive. She gripped her thighs with her hands, her nails slightly breaking her flesh. Semen and Saliva were now trickling out of Stacey's mouth and onto the stranger's balls, as well as splattering on the cold concrete floor, almost immediately blending in with the other putrid stains. The stranger began to tremble, his cock began to contract in Stacey's mouth. A loud guttural moan emanated from the stranger's mouth. Stacey felt a harsh spray of salty semen hit the back of her throat. She felt his cock contract and pulsate in her mouth, spewing semen harshly. It seemed to never end, Stacey felt as though was nearly drinking semen. She swallowed several times, each time letting a mouthful of semen slide down her throat. Semen was dripping out both corners of Stacey's mouth, long strands of cum dangled from her face. As he tilted his head back in organismal relief she bobbed her head up and down, her aim was to suck his cock clean. She licked the semen and saliva off of his balls thoroughly. Then she went back to the shaft, licking the last of the cum off of the cock, she reveled in pleasure, seemingly unwilling to take the stranger's cock out of her mouth. When she finally fell back on her haunches, her ass making contact with the cold concrete floor, she looked at the stranger and wiped her face off with her bare forearm. She looked like something wild, like something uncontrolled, an animal. She quickly stood up, her feet stepped in her own juices. She rushed to put her dress back on, leaving her underwear and undershirt in the bathroom. She picked up her high-heeled shoes in the dank bathroom. She thought she heard the stranger say something as she walked away, but she did not stop. Once in her Prius Stacey wasted no time, she put her car seat back as far as she could and leaned backward. She hiked up her dress and began to vigorously caress her now exposed clitoris. Her bare foot pressed against the front windshield of her car. She moaned loudly and passionately as she pleasured herself. Her car window was opened a crack and anyone within earshot would know exactly what was happening. This was the epitome of hedonism and recklessness, it was shameful. Stacey at that moment owned her shame, she owned her recklessness, and she lived in perfect harmony with her nature. Stacey's car was locked, if anyone wanted her to stop they would have to smash her window. A Simple Twist of Fate She bucked her hips and pulled her hair with her free hand. Stacey could feel the presence of the Stranger outside of her vehicle. It turned her on even more to know he was watching her wantonly and aggressively masturbating. Stacey's fingers were soaking wet from her own secretions. She screamed loudly, she harshly hit her palm again and again against the driver's side window. She was nearly hyperventilating. Stacey's eyes started to roll back into her head, she was shaking, twitching and quickly losing all control. Then it struck her, she let out what is probably the loudest sound she had ever made and a wave of pleasure permeated her body. Wave after wave of pleasure hit Stacey's body, the bliss seemed last for minutes. When it was done Stacey was limp in her car seat, unaware of the outside world. The stranger was right outside of her car door, he must have witnessed everything. He almost looked sad, he had his hands in his pocket. Stacey didn't know what he was doing, she ignored him completely. With reluctance in his step, the Stranger walked away and Stacey saw him calmly get into his truck. Stacey looked in the mirror and adjusted her hair. She put her dark glasses back on and let out a deep breath. Out of her rearview mirror, Stacey saw the stranger drive off towards California. She primped her hair and took a deep breath, she left the gas station and continued on her drive towards Utah.