2 comments/ 4753 views/ 6 favorites Past, Present and Future By: musicalchick When a person emerges from a very long relationship with one person, life feels very different. Small things such as deciding whether or not to go out and socialise can feel massive. In my case, I felt like a small pale animal that had been hibernating for many years, blinking outdoors in the sunshine for the first time in a while. The world felt vast, and I felt alone. I found what I thought might be love quite by accident. My first man other than my partner in twenty years was a famous man. He was tall, wide, funny and hairy. I felt like an 8 stone doll wrapped in his great arms. We had fun, it ended, but it was an experience that I do not regret. The second man made me realise that I had not actually known real love before. I have not been able to love again since. I have tried. I have even been on a date or two which were perfectly pleasant, but came to nothing. It would seem man number two has my heart still. I will be patient and hope that I begin to feel differently over time. Time is a great healer so people say. Here is a story about love, loss and hope... A Holiday I recently decided to have some time away from home and my business. I never thought I would be brave enough to go on holiday by myself, but needed to clear my head and have some thinking time. I work hard in everyday life. This is in some ways a good thing as there is little time to think, but this does mean that thoughts and emotions linger on a mental shelf in the background and this is not healthy in the long run. I confess to not being brave enough to go far, or tackle the unknown, so chose to stay in a little seaside town in Dorset that I knew well from childhood. The journey was long but pleasant. Autumn in the UK can be drab and wet, but sometimes also beautiful. The changing colours of the leaves on the trees can look stunning, and the sun was shining as I wove my way down South in my little car. I arrived at my Hotel situated on the sea-front during the afternoon, checked-in my bags and immediately decided to have a walk along the beach and the sea-front. As I stepped out of the hotel, I paused and breathed-in the smell of the sea. I felt immediately at home, and wanted to see all the familiar sights that I had known all my life. There is something quite enchanting but also melancholy about a seaside town at rest in Autumn when there are very few tourists visiting. As I strolled, I smiled to see a host of little boats that would have been for hire all chained-up securely for Winter. The larger of the two Amusement Arcades was closed with shutters down, and the ice-cream booths on the edges of the beach boarded up. The fish and chip shop, the tea shop and main ice-cream parlour looked open however, and I made a mental note to visit each. I stepped down onto the beach itself and studied the gentle waves. The tide was out, so I was able walk on smooth firm sand and admire the chalk cliffs in the distance. I bent to pick-up a small Winkle shell, turned it over in my hands, and put it in my pocket. I could see something brightly coloured further along the beach, and continued to walk, wondering what it could be. As I came closer, I realised that it was a child's bucket and spade half buried in the sand, perhaps forgotten about after a family picnic. The bucket and spade looked so sad and abandoned, yet so brightly coloured at the same time which seemed incongruous. Somehow the sight of these touched me deeply, and I felt a lump in my throat. I realised it was no good. I was going to have to think about him now I had the time and the space, and made my way slowly to one of the benches facing the sea. I lit a cigarette, knowing how much he would hate this, and let my mind wander freely... Memories I run a small plant nursery which specialises in English herbs. I have a business partner Becky, and we grow all of the plants ourselves. People come from all over to purchase unusual herbs for their gardens and we also have a successful website for both plants and seeds. People often contact us for planting and growing information to help them make the right choices for their gardens. I met Sam when I was least expecting it. I was grieving at the time, and no longer seeing the famous man whom I thought I loved. A potential customer email arrived requesting a huge amount of information, and containing a list of questions about plants, soil and watering. It was signed 'Sam'. I sighed to myself. Becky was busy, so I reluctantly began to respond to this lengthy tome. I ended the email (which had also become lengthy), in a semi-humorous fashion, asking this man Sam if there was anything else I could do for him? Perhaps I could 'walk on water' or 'raise the dead?' I then went to join Becky with the day's watering. The following afternoon, I checked the company emails again and saw that Sam had replied. He apologised profusely for asking so many questions, but thanked me for my helpful response. Today's question was whether we would be able to ship to the US? I replied giving him some details of US suppliers which might be cheaper as having done this once before, I knew that shipping, well flying actually would be expensive in order for plants to arrive in A1 condition. He replied again almost immediately, stating that he wanted proper English herbs for his garden, understood that there would be a significant cost, and would be compiling an order. I shook my head and smiled. Whatever... The plant order arrived the following day. I could not believe it. With shipping costs, this man was willing to pay in excess of £1000 for plants! Was he mad? I emailed back to double-check that this was correct, and also to discuss payment methods as I was unwilling to arrange such an order unless I was 100% sure we were going to be paid. The response was immediate once more, the money paid online though PayPal, and a Dallas P.O. box given as the sending address, so I got to work sorting out the plants and shipping. Because it was such an unusually large order, I hand-wrote a little card wishing Sam every success with his herb garden, encouraging him to contact me again if I could assist in any way. He replied a few days later with thanks. This was to be the start of something I could never have expected... Back on the Beach I was jolted out of my reminiscence by a dog running up to me and nuzzling my ankle. The lady owner retrieved her dog and apologised. I replied that I had not minded in the slightest, and remained seated on my bench watching both woman and dog grow smaller and more distant as they continued up the beach. I wondered how long I had been sitting, lost in my thoughts. The tide had begun to turn, so I realised it must have been a while. My stomach rumbled. There and then I decided to head for the fish and chip shop. I wondered if Sam had ever had proper British fish and chips? If not, he was missing out. I realised I had thought about him enough for one sitting. I knew I would indulge myself again, but it would hurt. I had had enough for one day. Breakfast I had slept well, and woke feeling only too happy to chomp a full English breakfast with copious amounts of tea. The breakfast room was cosy, but busy. I sat down alone at a little table for two, and began to think about how I might spend the day whilst waiting for my meal to arrive. I ate well, polished off a whole pot of tea, and decided that I would take a little drive, then a walk to visit a rather special piece of cliff and headland - 'The Old Harry Rocks.' I gathered my bag and stood to leave, just as more people were arriving for breakfast. I was surprised to hear a deep American sounding accent in amongst the general chatter. Oh dear, how this reminded me of my Sam. I fled from the room suddenly feeling quite sad again, and headed straight out. After parking my car, I began the ascent, first via a footpath, then through fields to the top of the headland. As I had remembered, the view was amazing and I was delighted to see 'Old Harry' and his wife still standing proudly, jutting out of the sea. I decided to sit as it was dry and sunny. I was glad I had dressed sensibly and warmly as the breeze was strong up there in the open. In such a beautiful place, I knew I would be able to focus my mind once more. Other walkers passed by from time to time, and I felt safe... Memories About a week after I had sent Sam's order he emailed again, this time to say that the plants had arrived safely and to thank me for the card. He said he had already arranged some of the plants and was really enjoying gardening. I found myself replying to him, asking about his garden and, well asking a little about him. Was there anyone to help him with this task? Did he need any further advice? He responded to tell me that no, it was his own garden, and he would be doing all the work. He must have sensed I was being a little nosy, as he then sent me a neat list telling me his age, height, hair and eye colour. This made me giggle. He was younger than me, but I sent a mock dating profile of myself to make him laugh. I sensed that he was a little 'stung' initially to be laughed at, but seemed delighted by my silly profile, and so the regular contact began. It very quickly became routine for Sam to email me to say good morning. He was six hours behind me, so I emailed him upon waking so that he would have something nice to read when he too woke. I found myself really looking forward to reading his thoughts, or hearing about his garden, his dog, his aims in life. I sent him a photo of myself in a moment of bravery. He was delighted to see what I looked like and sent a little photo of himself on a fishing trip. He looked like just a normal nice-looking guy. When I tried to enlarge the photo, it became out of focus and grainy, so I could not get the closer detail. He offered to send another, but I said it wasn't necessary. You see I was already falling for this man. It would not really have mattered if he had two heads and buck teeth! Sam seemed genuinely interested in me and asked me all sorts of questions. I found I trusted him, and told him a great deal about my life, my relationships, my friends and my interests. He told me a fair bit about his background too and what he enjoyed doing in his spare time. It seemed that in his work life he was quite a high powered businessman. I just liked the casual Sam - the Sam that liked to garden, liked to cook outdoors and take long walks with his dog. We began to communicate in real time via instant messaging which seemed easy and natural. The first time we messaged each other, it really felt to me that he was just sitting in the next room. I was eating my dinner as we chatted, and he said it felt to him as if we were sitting at the table together. I continued to chat to Sam without a second thought, continued to try and rebuild my life, and told him about the good days and the bad days. He realised I was going through big life changes and was always thoughtful and kind. I remember the first time Sam mentioned that he had become very, very hard whilst messaging me. The thought of him talking to me in real time with an erection had an instant effect on me. I asked him if he was stroking himself and confessed to feeling extremely horny and very wet indeed at the thought of this. He ordered me to take my clothes off and describe myself to him. This was a new experience for me, but one I was very happy to oblige. As he told me what he wanted to do to me, I stroked myself. This man was so sexy, so gentle, but also seemed to be enjoying taking control of my mind during these few minutes. It was easy to imagine his lips exploring my lips, my breasts and my dripping pussy, taking his time, adoring my body. I could not hold off, came hard, but to my surprise immediately wanted more! I think he was a little surprised too, but now he took his time describing to me exactly how he would fuck me if we were actually together. This time, I used my dildo as he described what he wanted to do to me. I was so wet and slippery by now that it kept sliding out! Again, I found myself responding to this lovely man like I had not ever responded to anyone before. The second time, as my orgasm grew, I wondered if I would survive! He really, really wanted to make me happy, make me relaxed, make me feel desired. Oh my, it worked. Oh yes indeed... It seemed polite after his magnificent efforts to recover myself and message him to tell him exactly what I wanted to do to him. I asked him to stroke himself whilst I described myself running my tongue over his balls, kneeling on the floor with my bare ass in the air. I imagined myself eventually (after torturing him a little), taking his whole cock in my mouth and us both watching me suck him with enthusiasm in a mirror. This sent him over the edge and he too ended up feeling very satisfied. I think we were both a little shocked, but in a good way. After all, if we could have this effect on each other just through messaging, what would it be like if we were ever to actually meet? It felt very, very exciting... Old Harry Rocks I realised that hot tears were silently running down my cheeks. I was sitting in the sunshine once more on a beautiful headland in Dorset. I could not think any more about Sam as it was too painful, so I just let the tears flow and sat quietly, (and lit another cigarette). I was jolted out of my silence by a voice. "Hi there, are you okay?" To my irritation the voice had an American accent. I looked up briefly to see a tallish man standing awkwardly by my side. "Do I look okay?" was my abrupt response. "Well, no. You look a little peaky," he replied. "I couldn't just walk by. I think I noticed you at breakfast this morning," he went on. I said nothing. I felt mildly annoyed at being disturbed and did not want company. I certainly did not want to hear an American voice. I willed him to just leave me alone, continued to smoke my cigarette and stared at my feet. I cringed further as I sensed him sit down next to me on the grass. "What is wrong?" he asked. There was an uncomfortable silence. He did not move however. "I was in love with a man once," I whispered. "Oh," was his reply. "Was he a good man?" he asked. "The best," I replied, standing up to resume my walk. "Thank you for your concern, but I don't want company right now," was my impolite exit. "What is your name?" I heard him ask as I began to walk. I pretended I had not heard and began my descent feeling both exposed and humiliated. The tears began again as I walked back through the fields and down the footpath to my waiting car. I just let them happen and allowed the breeze to dry them away. Upon reaching my car, I felt a little ashamed. I am not a rude person by nature. In fact, I like people as a rule and the poor man was only doing the decent thing and asking if I was alright. Oh well. No point worrying about it. I drove back to the hotel, parked my car and then spent an enjoyable hour in the smaller amusement arcade that was open, feeding two pence pieces into a coin cascade with the aim of moving the coins enough to win myself the wonderful prize of a miniature rubber duck! I returned to my room £2.50 lighter, but as the proud owner of a duck. This felt like an achievement, made me smile and so I had a bath, visited the fish and chip shop once more, then settled to read a book and had an early night. Breakfast II I found I had slept in a little so the breakfast area was pretty busy when I went down. Fortunately my table from the day before was just being vacated as I arrived, so I was able to park myself comfortably and order a pot of tea and toast. I was just buttering my toast when I felt a presence. I focussed on selecting some apricot jam and ignored the fact that someone was invading my space and settling themselves in the other seat at my table. Eventually I had to look up. Oh just great. It was the American man from the previous day. To be fair, there were no other seats, but I really was not in the mood for hearing his accent again. Yes, I was taking this break to think things through and put Sam into some sort of order in my head, but hearing this man's voice was a little like putting 'salt in the wound'. "Good morning," he said politely. "Same to you," replied without looking directly at him. I attacked my toast and jam with vigour. "You look as though you are enjoying that," he observed. "I think I will order the same." "Yes, some of us skinny ladies do actually eat and enjoy our food," was my gruff response. "Hey, I didn't mean to imply anything," he replied. I continued to eat and sip my tea in silence. "Are all English women this conversational?" he asked quizzically. I felt annoyed, finished my toast and eventually felt I had to look at this man properly for the first time. I made eye contact with him and was surprised to find him smiling at me with amusement in his eyes. He had a pleasing open face which was nice to behold, but I very quickly looked away again, finished my tea, and reached for my bag. I stood to leave and muttered a goodbye. "Hey," he exclaimed. (Oh that annoying American phrase which has caught on in the UK). "This man must have been quite something?" I found I could not reply. "Tell me about him," he said. "I have time to kill today and no company." I paused again and looked at him. Despite my annoyance, I somehow felt this man was safe. "If you really have nothing better to do, you'd better meet me at the front of the hotel in half an hour then," I replied bluntly and left. I decided I would give this man five minutes leeway, and then go for a walk by myself if he was later than this. I stepped outside of the hotel and he was already waiting for me. "Hi there," was his greeting. "In England we prefer hello," was my reply. God, why was I being such a bitch? This man had not done me any harm and had already shown me some kindness. I flushed a little. "Sorry. I guess I lost my manners." "I've had worse," he responded cheerily. "Shall we walk?" We walked along the beach in silence for a good twenty minutes. It was not an uncomfortable silence, and we both sort of gravitated to a bench on the sea-front without a word. "So, has this man hurt you badly?" he asked. "You will think me silly if I tell you about him," I whispered. "I'm sure I won't," he replied. "You will." "Try me." I sat in silence for a couple of minutes studying my feet. "I have never actually met him," I confessed. "There. You can laugh now." "I am not laughing at you. I am intrigued," he replied softly. "Tell me." "I didn't mean to fall in love with him," I returned. "It's just that we 'clicked' immediately. We got on so well. It seemed so right, so easy." I told him a little about how I had met Sam. I looked up and the man was looking at me intently, so I continued. "He disappeared for a little while," I explained. "I think he was a little 'blown away' at how far we had come in just a short space of time." "He came back?" the man replied. "Yes he did. He needed time to think things through for himself. I don't think he was expecting these feelings to appear from nowhere anymore than I was. He realised that I was recovering from a long partnership and a recent shorter relationship. He wanted to be sure that it was okay to be falling in love. He wanted to protect me and was worried that I was vulnerable." "Were you vulnerable?" the man asked me. "Well I suppose so," I replied. "Vulnerable does not mean stupid though. My feelings were definitely real despite me recovering from previous losses. I missed him badly when he wasn't there and hoped he was okay. I thought about him every day he was gone, but carried on with my life and my recovery." Past, Present and Future "You are a strong lady then." "I am a strong lady," I replied. "I have had to be over recent years. Strong does not mean lacking in emotion and feeling though," I replied with conviction. "You don't look very strong right now from what I have seen." I looked at the man again, unsure what to tell him. "What is your name?" I asked. "Tom," was his answer. "Well Tom," I said softly, "I work hard. I solve the problems of others. I see friends. I have interests and hobbies which I pursue. I offer myself little time to be weak. This holiday is for me. I am allowing myself to reflect and grieve. So right now I am weak, but in real life I am strong." There was another silence as we sat. "I don't want to tell you anymore right now," I announced. "Let's find a cup of tea." "Coffee for me," he replied. We got up and headed toward the tea room nearby. Tea and Coffee We sat companionably waiting for our hot drinks to arrive. "So what is it with all this tea-drinking?" Tom asked with a smile. "It's just a cultural thing I guess," I replied. "I could not possibly start the day without tea. My whole family are tea drinkers." Tom looked horrified as I added milk and sugar to my piping hot tea. I grimaced as a tiny strong-looking coffee arrived for him. "What's the point of that?" I asked. "That'll be gone in a couple of sips!" "Are you going to tell me your name now Ms Tea snob?" he quizzed. I looked at him. Again, he somehow felt safe. "My name is Emma," I stated. Was it my imagination, or did he look puzzled for a second? "Well Emma," he grinned. "Tell me more about this man." "Okay Tom. Now where to start..." Memories "Sam did return with apologies after taking a short break away from me. He said he was here to stay and would not leave me again. He wanted to know more about me. He wanted to be assured that I was not still hankering after my previous man, and confessed to feeling a little jealous. I told him he had stolen my heart. It sounds inconceivable as it was a long distance love affair, but we were indeed in love. Very quickly, we began to open up to each other again, sharing part of our day with each other and most excitingly talking about our desires." "It soon transpired that Sam travelled a great deal for his work. I did not ask what his work entailed. I decided I would not pressure him as he would tell me when he felt ready. You see I had begun to realise that our lives were very different. I now live in a small space which I love, and grow plants for a living. He lived in a large house and was probably a wealthy man. It occurred to me that in his real life he was probably very eligible. Sometimes I pictured him surrounded by rich women, each hoping that they would be the one for him. This did not bother me in the slightest. I knew I had his heart and his mind. He seemed hungry to know more about me, to know what I was thinking, feeling. He messaged me every day when he could, sometimes from odd corners of the world. He comforted me when I needed it, he delighted in my successes, and he really wanted me to be happy. When I did get to speak to him via voice message, it was again easy, natural and fun." "Again, although it was at a distance, the sex was amazing. Our thoughts were often very similar and there was no awkwardness. I began to want Sam for real, began to imagine what it would be like to actually meet him and hold him. At times, he would talk about us being together, but wanted to take his time and wanted to be sure that I was fully recovered from my past. He did not want to take advantage of me. This made me love him even more..." "Oh, why did it have to go so horribly wrong?" Back to the Sea Front Once again, I halted my reminiscence. Tom was looking at me intently, listening to every word. I suddenly felt very exposed. Why was I sharing my thoughts with a virtual stranger? I got up, fumbled for my bag and left the tea room wordlessly. Tears were threatening again, so I stood in the fresh air taking deep breaths, trying to regain some control. Tom caught up with me very quickly and stood with me looking once more at the sea. He spoke to me softly with concern in his eyes. "Baby, don't cry." Just those three words were all it needed to set me off again. My voice cracked and I fought to maintain some dignity. "You sound so like him." Tom's arms went around me. He pulled me close and I found I did not mind this at all. To be held by a handsome kind man was such a comfort. "I'm sorry. It's your accent that set me off," I whispered as I sobbed against his chest. "He used to call me 'baby.' I know it's a common endearment. Silly me. I can't tell you any more right now." "That's okay," he replied. "It's best to let it out. You'll be just fine." "Do you think?" I asked, turning my tearstained face to look at him once more. "I do think," he replied. "You are a gorgeous lady, and yes you are strong." "I think I need to be on my own for a while Tom," I said apologetically. "Thank you though." "Why don't you accompany me to the fossil museum at Corfe this afternoon?" he asked. "It might help to do something different with a bit of company." "Fossils?" I asked. "Yes, an interest of mine," he replied flushing a little. I found myself smiling. What a nerd. I began to snigger. "What's so funny?" he asked looking a little hurt. "Is this why you are here, to look at fossils?" I asked. "Yes, this coast is supposed to be amazing for fossil hunting. It's a hobby of mine." I looked at Tom, squeezed his hand and said, "I would like nothing better." Fossils It was rather a novelty to be driven rather than having to drive which is the norm for me. The journey passed without a great deal of conversation as I was enjoying the scenery around me. I love being by the sea, and kept catching glimpses of it on the horizon as we made our way to Corfe. Corfe Castle is pretty much a ruin on the top of a hill, but dominates the area visually. It always looks magical, and attracts visitors from all over the world. I think Tom was pretty stunned upon seeing it. From what I understand, America just does not have the history that we do in the UK. We climbed out of the car and made our way to the museum. Tom stood admiring the huge Ammonite that was mounted outside the building. "Imagine there once being shells that size!" he exclaimed. "That must have taken years and years and years to grow." We went inside and spent a very enjoyable hour looking at local fossils, and reading about their history. I did indeed find that my mind did not once turn to Sam whilst we were in the museum. When we emerged in the sunshine, Tom decided we should climb the hill and look at the castle. He had bought a guidebook which I thought was cute, and was reading sections avidly. He looked like a proper American tourist. "Are you ready to tell me more?" Tom asked once we had reached our summit and settled ourselves on the grass to admire the view from such a high vantage. "I'll tell you a little more," I replied. Memories "I began to feel afraid. I had opened up to Sam so easily. He never pressured me to reveal specific details of my life, but I did tell him more bit by bit. I told him about my family, my closest friends, about the people who had disappointed me. I even told him that this was my favourite part of the coast. He knew my name, the town in which I lived, and of course knew a great deal about my job." "I knew a great deal about Sam in terms of his hopes, his desires, his two best friends and a little about his family. He told me his family and friends were amazed that he had been talking to one woman for such a long period of time. They had given up hope it would seem of him ever settling." "What I did not know was his surname, what he did for a job and who he actually was. Everything he told me tied together, so there was no reason to doubt him. It would take some kind of a genius to keep track of everything he had told me, everything we discussed and not begin to make mistakes if he were not who he said he was. So no, this was not a problem. What had become a problem for me was that I had indeed become vulnerable. If Sam were to be taken ill, I would never know and never be able to find him. If he were to tire of me, all he would have to do is delete his email and messaging facilities and I would be gone. This scared me, but I did not feel I could push him and wanted him to open up to me when he felt ready." "Sam got the odd glimpse of my doubts and fears on occasion I think. Once I thought he was leaving me and I responded badly. He was angry with me. I did not wish to own this man, wanted him to be free to pursue his work, his interests, his friendships, but I wanted to meet him for real. He was aware that I must have concerns as to why he was keeping his privacy, and told me it would all come clear and we would laugh about it one day. I felt reassured by this. We continued to talk to each other regularly, make each other laugh and make each other cum with some kind of passion." Corfe Castle "That's enough for now Tom," I stated. "The next part will be the hardest, and I am not ready for that yet." "That's okay," he replied. "This is some kind of story. You have me hooked. It seems he was a lucky man." "Yes, maybe he was," I thought out loud. "You see, I don't think he believed I was real. Woman can be cruel and hurtful. I pretty much realised by now that he was in some kind of position in his work that could be damaged badly by a woman who was scorned or even lacking in tact. I think he was scared to tell me more. What a silly man. I would never hurt someone I had loved. I am who I am." Tom put his arm around me and squeezed me. Nothing was said, but I found I did not mind this at all. We continued to sit in silence enjoying the view, both perhaps lost in our own individual thoughts. Without a second thought, I leaned in closer and rested my head on his chest. His arm pulled me tighter to his body which was nice. Very nice indeed. As the sun began to set, we stood up and made a slow descent towards Tom's parked rental car, and he drove us back to the hotel. "Will you eat out with me tonight?" Tom asked me as he switched the car engine off. "No sweetie, not tonight," I replied. "I think I have done enough storytelling today, and just need to be by myself." His face fell a little. "Maybe tomorrow if you are still here?" I asked. "I will still be here," he replied with a smile, and gave me a little peck on the cheek. I thanked him, and went to my room. I was surprised to feel my cheek tingling pleasantly after this little innocent kiss. Breakfast Tom settled himself at my table for two just as I had poured my morning tea and was tucking into scrambled egg on toast. "Morning," he said. "You really do like your tea don't you?" I smiled. "Couldn't do without it I'm afraid." Tom ordered himself a coffee and bacon and egg and toast. "What are you up to today?" he asked. "I'm not sure," I replied. "I have been reading my guidebook and there is a little abandoned village I would really like to visit. Do you think you might like this?" he queried. "The lost village of Tyneham," was my response. "Yes, it has a lovely beach nearby too. I have been many times. We'll have to check it is open as it is on an army range." "Are you going to tell me the final part of your story?" Tom asked. "I might. I just might," was all I said. The Lost village of Tyneham Tyneham was a small rural village before World War 2. The residents gave up their homes for the good of their country and the military took over the area. Sadly, much of the village was destroyed through target practice and the residents never got their homes restored to them. The manor house was obliterated. The little Church and school remain and the shells of some cottages. It is now open to the public, but remains army land. I drove Tom this time so that he could admire the scenery. He continued to read his guidebook, seeming hungry for historical information. Again, I thought this very endearing. We walked around the village, went into the Church, and Tom took photographs. I returned to the car briefly to collect a picnic I had put together, and we began our walk to the beach. The beach itself is very pebbly. We found a large flat rock to sit on and ate our lunch with enjoyment. "Tell me the rest," Tom requested once the picnic was tidied away. "Let it out, deal with it, and then perhaps you can move on." "I'll try," is all I could manage. Once again, we sat in silence. This time, Tom put his arm around me. I felt safe, and began the final instalment. "Someone interfered, Tom. I know this now. How it hurts..." Memories "I woke up one summer morning to a very odd email from Sam. It didn't matter how many times I read it and reflected. It just did not make sense to me at all. In this email, he implied that I had had some sort of interaction with a woman that he knew. I had always known that he dated casually, but had asked not to hear about this. He said there had also been emails from me asking about this woman." "Again, I re-read the email and just did not understand. Being me, I initially thought I must be at fault. I felt hurt, anxious and confused. How on earth, (bearing in mind I did not even know Sam's surname), could I have had a conversation with someone he knew? I am not psychic or clairvoyant! "This played on my mind. I knew I had not emailed him about a woman. I had never heard of her before. What could have happened?" "I have had many weeks to ponder this puzzle. I now think that this woman was someone who wanted Sam badly, and wanted me out of the way. As I have discussed, he was open about me to friends and family and they were amazed that someone had kept him interested for so long. Women can be horrid. They can go to extreme measures to get what they want. If his emails were unattended, how difficult would it be to set up a new address so similar to mine that unless it was under scrutiny it would appear to be me? Perhaps one digit of the address could be changed, maybe the letter 'l' to a number '1'? How hard would it be to tell a few lies? After all, I was not there to defend myself. Perhaps this is far-fetched? Maybe I am wrong, but one thing is clear in all of this. This woman knew about me clearly. She implied she had communicated with me. She lied." "It hurt beyond words to think that Sam clearly believed that I could be sneaky, that I somehow by some means, (a magic wand maybe) had the facility to find out who he was, to interfere with his life. After all the trust we had built, all the dreams we had shared, all the hopes that we had." "I suppose this woman now has what she wants. I wonder if she can sleep at night knowing what she did. I hope it was worth it." Sitting on a flat rock "My worst fears came true Tom," I whispered. "He deleted his email. He deleted everything. He said I was better off without him. He went. He left me. I do not know how to find him. I will never know what truly happened. He broke my heart." This time, the tears really did start. I put my head against Tom's chest and cried in wracking sobs. I cried until I could hardly breathe. He held me. He stroked my hair. He kissed the top of my head. When my sobs began to subside, I looked directly at Tom. "I have had to live with this. I have had to live knowing that he lost trust in me, doubted my integrity, and doubted my love. I would never have hurt him. I would never have betrayed him. There are clearly people around him that have and would hurt him however in real life. This upsets me too as I am not there to protect him." "So that was the last you heard from him?" Tom asked. "Yes," I replied. "How on earth would I search for a man called Sam who lives in a town near Dallas? It would be like putting a needle in a haystack. Anyway, he does not want me now so even if I were by some miracle to find him, it would be pointless." Tom put his arms around me and held me close. When I looked up at him once more, he looked sad and concerned. "That's my story then," I said. "The worst thing is I keep kidding myself that he will return. I sometimes imagine that he will just appear at my door and sweep me off my feet or be waiting outside my Church for me on a Sunday to take me to lunch. I now know that this will never happen. He has gone for good. Oh dear Tom, I told you I was a silly woman." "No, not silly," he replied. "Overly trusting maybe. Come on, I'll take you back to the hotel." We walked back to Tyneham and to my parked car. Tom held my hand as we walked and it felt good. "Will you eat out with me tonight?" he asked. "Yes I will," I replied. "I'll even put a dress on." Dinner I found as I bathed and began to get ready that my heart felt a little lighter. It had helped hugely to be able to tell someone about Sam. Maybe I would recover now? I had only packed one dress with me as I had planned to be mostly outdoors during my holiday. I combed my long damp hair, slipped the dress on over my head, and stepped into some little flat ballet shoes. If we were to walk any distance, or on the beach again, high heels would be stupid. Before I exited the room, I put on a dab of lipstick. Tom was waiting for me at the hotel entrance. He looked at me and his eyes widened. "Oh my, Ms Emma you look good," he drawled. "That dress fits you like a glove." "Thank you," I replied breathlessly, and quickly put on my coat as we headed outside. Tom took my hand, and we walked a short distance to an old pub which looked like it provided good food. The weather was not yet really cold, but it was pleasing to see that an open fire had been lit. We settled at a table nearby. Tom went to the bar to get us a drink each and fetch menus. I waited patiently and focussed my gaze on the fire, letting my mind drift. "Miles away?" Tom asked. "Sorry," I replied. "I was miles away." "Were you thinking about Sam?" "I was," I confessed. "Sam is a business man. He takes time to make big decisions in his work and is not a risk taker. I think he saw me as a bad business proposition in the end. He was after perfection. Perfection does not exist. We are just people. I am just a person." "You are a sweet person," Tom smiled. "That is obvious to me." "I think you are quite sweet too." Without stopping to think, I raised myself up from my chair a little, leaned forward and kissed Tom gently on the lips. "Thank you for being so kind to me dear man," I whispered in his ear, then sat back down. I looked at Tom, and was pleased to see that he was smiling. He really was rather cute with short brown hair and an open friendly face. I had actually noticed also when walking to the pub that he had a pleasing physique. It was nice to be beginning to find a man attractive again. We ordered our food and chatted easily. "Tell me more about you Tom," I requested. He proceeded to tell me a bit more about his interest in fossils and the outdoors generally. He liked to hike and go camping, and we found we had a great deal to talk about. The time passed quickly, our meals eaten, and before long it was late. "Let's have a quick walk on the beach before going back to the hotel," Tom suggested. Past, Present and Future We headed outside and the temperature had dropped a little. Tom put his arm around me and we walked a little way down the beach in the darkness and paused to listen to the sound of the waves. "Have you been with a man recently?" he asked. "No," I replied. "I expect my parts have shrivelled up and disappeared!" Tom turned to kiss me on the lips. We looked at each other. I leaned in and kissed him back slowly and softly, then paused... "There seems to be life in my parts after all," I told him with a demure expression on my face. Tom reached for me, pulled me close and kissed me once more. This time the kiss lingered, lasted, explored. I could feel life in his parts too. My legs began to tremble at the feel of his hardness pressing against me. "Is this okay with you darling?" he asked with such concern in his voice. "It is wonderful," I gasped, leaning to kiss him again. "Please don't stop." I nearly passed out with desire as I felt his hand tentatively stroke my bottom over my dress. I pressed myself more firmly against him, locked my lips against his, and shivered as his hand gradually moved down under my skirt and began to caress my bare leg. I let out a gasp of desire. "Oh God, it's been so long," I gasped. "I will probably cum like a teenage boy being touched for the first time!" Tom laughed, kissed me again and let his hand ride slowly up my leg to my knickers. "Your knickers are soaked," he sighed. I cried out as he gently moved the crotch of my knickers to one side and slowly touched my wet pussy with gentle fingers. "I need to you to touch me where it matters," I begged, burying my face in his neck, covering it with nuzzles and kisses. "Please." He found my swollen bud and to my delight started to stroke it very gently, spreading my slippery juices, whispering endearments in my ear at the same time. It was probably selfish of me, but I just leaned against him, let him stroke me, and focussed on nothing but the delicious sensation of my orgasm building. "Your pussy is swollen," observed Tom breathlessly as he veered away from my clit for just a moment before returning there with his fingers. "Do you want a big hard cock there?" he asked. "Later, yes...please," was all I could return. I began to moan as I felt the delicious sweet feeling that I had not felt for so long begin to build. I lifted and bent one leg, hooking it around Tom's body as I began to lose control. "You sexy, sexy lady," he whispered as I moaned some more. His fingers continued their gentle caress until I could stand it no more and cried out as my pussy exploded. I think I actually screamed, and was glad afterwards that the sound of the waves must have muffled the sound! I ended up being held in Tom's arms like a little rag doll. My whole body twitched and I gasped deep breaths of air as I recovered slowly. I thanked him over and over again. "I'm sorry," I gasped. "I have not done anything for you." "You have done more than you know," he replied tenderly. "Stay the night with me?" "Yes please," I sighed. "I want that big hard cock!" I kissed Tom once more, felt his erection pressing against me once more, then broke off, took his hand and we made the short walk back to our destination. Once in his room, we tore at each other's clothes. "I need you," I begged as he lifted my dress over my head. "I want to fuck you hard beauty," he replied as I wrestled with his belt and zipper. Knickers and bra were hastily removed as he shed his clothes desperately. We paused just for a moment to look at each other. Tom stood in front of me, naked. His huge erect cock was practically throbbing to his heartbeat with pre-cum beginning to leak from its tip. He looked at my slender body, drinking in the sight of my small pert breasts, my flat stomach and neat little pussy. I fell to my knees and ran my tongue along his shaft. He whimpered and moaned as I stroked his balls at the same time. I felt the air disappear from his lungs in one big gasp as I took his whole cock in my mouth and began to caress it with my wet mouth and tongue. Tom pulled me to my feet, lifted me in his arms and laid me on the bed. "I can't last," he whispered. "Next time I will fuck you for hours, but I just need to be inside you right now." "Be my guest," I replied urgently, pulling his body towards me, pulling his lips towards my own as he slowly entered me. "You are so tight and slippery," he uttered. "You'll feel every sensation," I replied urgently, pulling him deep inside. He began to move inside me. I knew I would and could not last either. The feel of this gorgeous man filling me was indescribably amazing, and I could feel myself grow tighter still as my pussy gripped him in delight and with longing. I wrapped my legs around Tom's waist as I again began to moan. He licked my breasts as he fucked me, kissed my face, and told me I was heavenly. I kissed him back, stroked his bum, and begged him not to stop... I stifled a scream and made a sort of strangled gasp as my pussy went into spasm once more! I loved the feel of again exploding, but this time all over the whole length of his cock. He must have felt every part of this as very shortly after, he tensed, pulled out and sent a shower of cum all over my body, my face and the bed, then collapsed against me panting. We lay there, both completely content for some minutes without a word, then Tom looked at me, smiled, and said, "You can't know how glad I am to meet you." "You rescued me," I replied. Aftermath Tom got up from the bed and returned with a damp warm flannel with which he wiped my face and body. "That was out of this world," he told me as he returned the flannel to the bathroom and began to search though a bag. "I've got some 'penis grigio' somewhere here. Would you like a glass?" I felt all the air leave my lungs in one go. It felt like icy water had just hit me in the chest. You see only one person I had ever known had used that silly phrase... "What did you just say?" I asked, sitting up and looking at him intently. He turned around, naked, wine bottle in hand and looked at me with big startled eyes. There was a long silence. "Where exactly in America do you live Tom?" I asked. More silence. "Is it in a small town near Dallas perchance?" "I...I...er," he began. "Sam?" I asked him, hardly believing the words that were coming out of my mouth. "Sam, is it you?" He walked over, sat by me on the bed and put his head in his hands. "Yes, it is me," he muttered. "But how, but why? How did you find me? Oh God, you had to listen to my story, my feelings." Hot tears once more had begun to drip down my cheeks. I found I could not move. I stayed silent to allow him to explain himself. "I never stopped thinking about you," he murmured, head still in hands. "You are partially right. I did doubt you and I am so sorry for this. All I wanted was just to see you from a distance. I was pretty sure you wouldn't know it was me." "But how...?" I started. "Your business partner Becky. Don't be too angry with her, but she dished out the information about where you were going on holiday when I telephoned and pretended to be a family member. I took the first available plane to the UK." "Please continue," is all I said. "I recognised you immediately and realised that you looked sad. I followed you at a distance to the cliffs the other day and just had to approach you. You looked so very distressed. It was clear you didn't want company. I should have gone home there and then, but found I couldn't. I wanted to speak to you. When you began your tale, I wanted to confess then, but at the same time wanted to know how you pictured our love affair and how you felt for me." His voice cracked a little. "I am so, so sorry Emma. I've ruined everything first by doubting you, and now by being dishonest. I love you so much." I sat digesting this information. It seemed unbelievable that I had taken this holiday to recover from loving a man who was now sitting naked on the bed next to me trying desperately not so sob. I just didn't know what to think. "So," I thought out loud. "What seems to have happened is that I have accidentally begun to fall in love with the same man I am already in love with." This thought suddenly struck me as being deliciously funny. I began to snigger. "And they say that women often go for the same type of man each time," I said with a grin. "Well, I hate to be a stereotype, but it would appear that this is correct." I began to laugh. I couldn't stop. I slid off the bed and lay on the floor clutching my sides in hysterics. Sam lifted his head and looked at me in bewilderment. "You are not angry then?" he asked tentatively. This made me laugh even more. "I'll maybe be angry with you later Sam, but right now this just seems so funny!" I collapsed into another set of giggles. Sam lowered himself to the floor, gently pulled me into a sitting position and cupped each side of my face with his big hands. "I really am so very sorry," he said with feeling. "You can't imagine how good it is to actually meet you, hold you and love you though." "Actually I can Sam. You know how much I love you and desire you. I feel the same." He put his arms around me. I snuggled in a ball against his bare chest. We stayed that way for some time. "Can we start by getting to know each other again properly Sam?" I asked. "I would love to date you. I know it's sort of awkward with us living so far apart, but I do get some holiday time and I expect you do too?" "That sounds like a great idea," he replied. "Come to bed Emma. I want to hold you all night. In fact, I never want to let you go." "Please never let me go," I whispered, and we went to bed. If the people we love are stolen from us, the way to have them live on is to never stop loving them. Buildings burn, people die, but real love is forever. A quote from the film 'The Crow' 1994