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© Copyright 2000 Katie Rose.

About the author:

What would anyone want to know about me? Iím just a divorced mother from Nowhere Ville, Wisconsin Ė population 4,000. I started this little adventure on a whim; frankly, resulting from a frustration due to the relationship I was in. Boy, has it opened my eyes to the possibilities.

Former occupations include factory worker, waitress, shipping clerk, police dispatcher (yes, I got to tell them where to go), and limo driver. Recently I bought out the boss and joined the ranks of the self-employed as a real estate appraiser.

I feel that erotic stories, or any written word carries more weight and makes a more lasting impression upon a reader because the reader tends to relate their own life to situations described. Pictures can offer their own story, but imagination combined with the written word has more impact for me.

What kind of erotic stories do I like to read? Iím a sucker for the happy ending, so usually I browse through the romance section, but I also have a part of me that enjoys reading m/m stories.

The most asked question I get is if I write from experience or fantasy. I would have to say a little of both. Some stories are pure fantasy, some a curious mixture of both, and then there are a few that are right out of my life. I leave it up to you to figure out which.

If you have a comment on my story, feel free to drop me a line. I always appreciate feedback.



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Sometimes I feel like I have a split personality. I suppose everyone does to a certain point. It reminds me of the cartoon of a devil on one shoulder and an angel on the other. The devil today was filling my head with all the self- doubt it could muster.

The angel pointed out that I could do this. I know the material. All I have to do is relax, and the answers will come to me. If only the hallway wasn't so gloomy and depressing. It must be the lighting in here. With no windows, it was starting to make me feel claustrophobic. Not that the prospect of taking this test wasn't depressing enough. I paced back and forth. Man, I was nervous. If I passed this test, I would have my license. I jumped at the sound of the pay phone ringing directly behind me. My heart was beating wildly. I looked around to see if anyone had been waiting for a call, but everyone was filing back into the room, so I reached out and answered it.

"Hello," I said.

"Hi there," came the deep, soothing, masculine voice.

"Hi." I answered automatically. I expected that the caller was thinking he had reached whomever it was he as intending to call, but I was caught off guard by the richness of his voice.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"I'm about to take my test, like everyone else." I smiled, still thinking he was calling for someone in the class.

"Why? Where is this?" he asked.

I laughed then, "You've reached LTC. Why? Who were you calling?" I knew it was none of my business.

"I don't think it matters anymore. I'm aware this is going to sound like the oldest line in the book, but has anyone ever told you that you have a very sexy voice?"

I rolled my eyes, because in fact I had been told that on several occasions. It had actually become a standing joke at the office that if you wanted anything done, have Elena call.

"Yes, I have. Has anyone ever told you that YOU have an incredibly sexy voice?" I asked, still somewhat playing his game. I don't know what caused me to answer him that way. I was distracted, off guard, and the devil was smiling.

"Yes," he chuckled, "I've been told that a couple of times myself. So, do you have some time to talk sexy with ME?" he asked.

My jaw must have dropped a couple of inches. I couldn't believe this was happening. I looked around waiting for someone to jump out and say, "Smile. You're on Candid Camera." However, the lobby was totally deserted, which meant the test was starting. "You've got to be kidding? No, right now I have to go take my test. I told you that!" Reluctantly I looked at the receiver and went to hang it in its cradle. He did have a sexy voice though, the smooth, low kind. The kind of voice that could be gentle and caress you, yet still be strong and forceful. I shivered.

He must have known that I was about to hang up, because I barely heard him say, "Wait!"

I looked around again and I brought the receiver back to my ear. "I'm here."

"I really want to talk to you again. Can I call you later? Or if you want you can call me."

Damn, his voice is sexy, I thought again. He was actually pleading. The sensible part argued that I couldn't have him call me at my motel room. That just wasn't safe. If he called me, I would have to tell him not only what motel I was staying in, but also my room number and name. I could call him on my calling card though. The devil smiled again. All this ran through my head in a matter of seconds.

I stood there shaking my head, the uncertainty arguing with the excitement. I couldn't believe that I was actually going to do this. "All right. Give me a number I can call you at later."

"Great!" he said. "I'm really looking forward to it." He sounded so happy. He recited the number, and I wrote it on the corner of a magazine. I ripped it off, said I had to go and that I'd call him later.

I rushed into the test room and scooted into my seat. I couldn't help smiling guiltily from ear to ear. This has got to be on the oddest things to ever happen to me.

Chris, my study partner asked, "Where were you?"

"Would you believe getting a request for an obscene phone call?" I quietly giggled.

Her eyes widened in surprise. I shook my head yes to tell her I was serious and whispered I'd tell her about it later.

I just sat for a minute staring at the test that had been placed before me. Since the phone call, I was a lot more relaxed. I took a couple of deep calming breaths, and foraged on.

Three hours later, I was glad to be back at my motel room. I had stopped after the test to explain what had happened to Chris, but I left out the part about me calling him back. The first thing I was going to do was get some ice and crack open a wine cooler. I kicked off my shoes, grabbed the ice bucket and padded barefoot down the hall. I could hear someone else was filling his or her bucket, so I slowed my pace. I wasn't in the mood for small talk. I glanced up as a man came out of the little room that housed the vending machines and headed down the hall away from me. He hadn't even noticed me, but I watched has he retreated. Nice butt, well built, but not muscle bound. Those were the kind of muscles that come from hard work. Guess I'm not the only one with this idea. He's probably taking his ice back to a wife who's waiting with the champagne. Just my luck, I thought. What is the matter with me? My imagination is working well overtime lately.

I filled the bucket, and returned to my room. I dug around in my bag, pulled out a couple of candles, and lit them. The small digital clock radio provided the calming background music. Now it was at least a little more like home. It didn't really matter, and it was just for the night. Tomorrow I'd be back home and back to reality.

I sat on the bed and started undressing. I was both mentally and physically exhausted. I longed for a hot shower. I finished undressing, stepped under the fine spray and let the water run over my body. Now that my test was out of the way, I let my mind drift back to the phone call. In my head, I could still hear his deep silky voice - not too deep, but just masculine enough to give me goose bumps. I still couldn't believe it had happened. Who knows, maybe the number he gave me doesn't even exist, but he sounded like he was looking forward to me calling.

As the water caressed my shoulders, I thought what kind of weirdo calls numbers at random, just to talk dirty to women? Is that what he had been doing? I wondered how many times he had offended someone only to have the phone slammed down in his ear. I ran the soap over my body. I wondered how often he wasn't hung up on. I slid the soap around my ample breasts. I wondered what exactly he'd said to others. I caressed the curve of my full hips.

Obviously, it must be worth the possible negative reaction he would get, if he kept doing it. I lathered the soap between my thighs. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe this was the first time he had done something like this. I was getting more aroused by the minute. I turned off the shower and wrapped a towel around myself.

I reached into my purse and pulled out the crumpled piece of paper. I studied the number. It didn't look like a local call and I wasn't even sure I would be able to get through the motel phone procedure. I surely didn't need to end up with the long distance call on the bill I turned into my boss.

I could hear the explanation already. "Um, that long distance call. Oh, that was when I called some guy for phone sex." Yes, that would leave a lasting impression. I decided to try to use my phone card.

Now that the devil had talked me into it, I reached over and dialed the number, and held my breath.

"When making a call in your calling area, please do not use one or the area code..." the recording droned on.

I hung up. Good grief! I was starting to lose my nerve. Maybe that was a sign. I stood up and the towel almost fell. I was surprised that I had forgotten I was only wearing a towel. I straightened and refastened it. Maybe I should get dressed. I poured myself more wine cooler and then paced. I tasted the cold fruity flavor and finally I decided what did I have to lose? If he turns out to be a creep, I could always just hang up on him. I propped the pillows up against the headboard and reached again for the phone. As I redialed, I could feel my heart beating.

He answered it on the first ring. "I thought you might not call."

I chuckled, "I thought I might not either." I found myself nervously wrapping the phone cord around my finger.

"What made you decide to finally do it?"

"I don't know." I thought about it. "I suppose curiosity."

"Really? About what?"

I could hear the smile in his voice. I wondered what he looked like. "I know this might be a bit unorthodox of me, but can I ask you a couple of questions?"

"Anything," he said.

I considered that. What did I want to know first? "Let's start with what can I call you?"

"My name is Dean."

"Mine's Elena."

"I think your voice suits your name. They're both sexy," he said in his own silken voice.

"Flattery will get you everywhere," I warned him laughing. "What or who were you looking for when you called today?"

"Actually I was making a call for work, but when I heard your voice it just totally got my attention, and you sounded, well - fun. Something just took over and I felt like I had to talk to you. Did you think that I made a habit of calling strangers?"

"I really didn't know what to think. But I guess I thought you could have done it intentionally."

"Can I ask you some questions?" he said.

"I guess that's fair."

"Have you ever done anything like this before Elena?"

"No," I quietly answered.

"Where are you now Elena?" I loved the sound of my name rolling off his tongue.

"I'm in my motel room."

"So am I. Do you spend a lot of nights in lonely motel rooms?"

"No, usually I spend my nights in my lonely home," I laughed. "I'm only here for the night. Tomorrow it's back to my everyday life."

"Taking a break from reality?"

I paused, remembering my thoughts from earlier "Something like that I suppose."

"Everyone's entitled to one now and then. Sometimes it feels good to not have to live up to the expectations of the rest of the world, and to just let go. Will you tell me what you look like?"

I momentarily thought about telling him a Barbie description, but in light of his previous statement, I took a chance. If the guy wasn't turned on, he could imagine whatever he wanted. I figured what difference did it really make.

"Well, I'm 5'3", an average build, definitely not skinny, just I suppose a sort of hourglass figure, or more romantically put, voluptuous. I have auburn hair, short and wavy, and blue eyes.

"You sound pretty. Is that the truth, or did you just make that up?"

I smiled, inordinately happy that I hadn't lied. "No, it's the truth. If I were making things up I'd be skinny!"

"For some reason I believe you, not that it would really matter to me. Next, question, what are you wearing now? Isn't that how the typical phone sex pick up line is supposed to go?"

"I'll forgive you for that. Um," I hesitated, "you mean really."

"Yes"

Again, I could hear the smile. I giggled, sounding like a schoolgirl. "You're probably not going to believe me, but...only a towel. I just got out of a shower." I chuckled again.

"Now that does make my imagination work overtime."

"And what does you imagination tell you?

"I can see myself sitting on the side of your bed, next to you. Your hair is still wet. I can see the water droplets on your shoulders. I'd run my fingers, up your arms, through the wetness, over your shoulders, and across the tops of your breasts, dipping down between them."

I couldn't help myself. I lifted my hand and followed the trail of wetness, doing just what he told me he'd do. Slipping my fingers into my cleavage and stroking across the tops where my breasts were starting to spill over the top of the towel.

He continued, "I could see them barely contained in the towel. Then I'd open the towel. Would you do that for me Elena?"

"Yes." I reached up, grasped the corner of the towel, and gave it a sight tug. The cool air danced over my body, while the change in temperature was evident on my nipples.

"I'd ply open the towel, leaving you totally exposed to my eyes."

I glanced up and saw my reflection in the mirror across the room.

"Tell me Elena, do you masturbate?"

Without hesitation I answered, "Yes." Why I even answered that question I don't know. It was more than a bit personal, but for some reason I didn't care. It wasn't that I was a prude, just that it didn't get brought up in most conversations, and it felt sort of exciting to talk freely about sex, even if it was to this stranger with the alluring voice. Maybe that's what made me be able to do it. The fact that I'd probably never see or talk to this person again, made it seem so natural.

"What's your opinion of women masturbating?" he asked.

"I think more women do it than admit to doing it." I ran my hand over my abdomen and dipped it down between my legs and back up again.

"And what's your opinion of men masturbating?"

"I think that watching a man pleasure himself is very erotic. Only he knows right where he wants to be touched and how he wants to be touched. But, the most exciting part is watching when he actually ejaculates. That is so hot."

"Will you touch yourself now for me? I want you to. I want to hear you and your sexy voice as you tease yourself to an orgasm."

"Only if you will do the same for me."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I want to know just what you're doing. I want you to tell me each and every detail." I could hear him moving.

"In that case, hold on." There was a pause on the other side of the line, then his voice came back. "I just removed my shorts and propped up my pillows. I can even see myself in the mirror on the wall across the room."

"So can I. These motels must all be the same." I chuckled. "Dean, have you ever done this before?"

"Which part?"

"Any of it. All of it. I'm just curious. It doesn't really matter." But it did, because I was getting nervous again. Maybe he'd think I was some sort of freak. Some sex starved pervert.

"Truth?"

I hesitated. Did I honestly want to know? However, the doubt was still there. "Yes."

"Elena, I've never had a girl admit she masturbates or admit she likes to watch a guy get off. I've never called anyone including any 900 number girls to talk sexy with. The closest I've come to phone sex was a conversation over the phone with my ex-wife just after we were separated. That was seven years ago." He paused. I think he was trying to judge whether I was about to ditch him for his revelations.

"Tell me what happened at that time," I gently prodded.

The audible sound of him releasing the breath he had been holding was such a turn-on. "All I remember was we were strolling down memory lane when one thing lead to another and we began talking about some of the better sex times. Just talking about it was getting me hard, and I told her so. The next think I knew I was stroking myself off while she told me in graphic detail what she would have done to me had we still been together."

I imagined him stroking his hand up and down on himself while on the phone, just as he was now, made my heart skip a beat. "Thank you."

"For what? I haven't done anything, yet."

"For being honest with me." Absently I was playing with my nipples. They puckered and stiffened. I flicked them and pinched them slightly. I wet my finger and slid it over the sensitive tip. "Are you comfortable?" I asked.

"As comfortable as you can get in a motel room decorated in mauve."

I looked around my own room. "It must be the universal color for motels now. That and country blue and sage green." I noticed the strong hand of mauve strung throughout my own room.

"Elena, do you have a significant other?"

"Would it matter?"

He didn't answer immediately. "I guess not. It's really none of my business."

"No."

"No, what? That it's none of my business, that it shouldn't matter, or that you don't have a significant other?"

I laughed, "I don't have a husband lurking in the background, or a steady boyfriend. If I did I wouldn't be in this motel room alone, and I most likely wouldn't even be on the phone with you."

"I'm glad. I mean, like I said, it really isn't any of my business, but I feel better knowing for some reason that your not doing something behind someone's back. What is it about you Elena that makes me care? I don't even know you. I think it was something more than your voice that reached out to me this afternoon."

"Well, I don't know what I expected I was getting myself into, when I called you. I don't know how to explain it. I was really nervous before I called you. At first when I dialed the number, I got a recording about area codes and I almost didn't have the nerve to redial. But I did, and I'm glad I did," I said.

"That's because I gave you my cell phone number. I didn't want to miss your call if I was out of my room.

For some reason that thrilled me. "It mattered that much to you that I called?"

"Like I said, you struck a chord when we talked this afternoon. Speaking of this afternoon, how did your test go?"

"I think it went OK. I won't know for a while what the results are. But I have a good feeling about it. You didn't make it any easier."

"I'm really sorry about that. Were you thinking about me?" I could hear his smile again.

"Yes, I'm sure that was part of it. Did you ever try concentrating when in the back of your head you're thinking of a sexy voice you just met?"

"I'm afraid I do now. I was trying to concentrate on a proposal I had to do this afternoon. As much as I wanted my phone to ring, I was terrified it was going to ring in the middle of it and then I'd have to put you off and then I'd be taking the chance of losing you again."

I hadn't even considered what he had been doing that afternoon. For some reason I was thrilled by the idea of him thinking about me after our call.

"Do you realize this conversation is nothing like your stereotypical obscene phone call? At least not what I imagined it to be," he said.

"What do you imaging it to be like?

"I suppose I expected it to be right to the point. And, all sex. Maybe because on a 900 number you're charged by the minutes," he chuckled. "I've learned so much more about you than I ever expected, and I don't mind it one bit." He paused then. "Elena, tell me one of your fantasies. Tell me about something you've always wanted to do, but you never had the opportunity to do."

"Hmmm. I'll have to think about that a little. I guess I've always been an outdoors kind of girl, and I'd like to have sex outside."

"You mean like in your back yard or in a more exotic location?"

"Well, I do have one fantasy along the outdoors lines. I guess it sort of came to me in a dream."

"Tell me about it."

"You're probably going to think it's weird."

"No, Elena, I'm not. Matter of fact I'm already getting hard just thinking about it."

I shivered. "All right. It starts with me asking the man if he slept well.

I knew he didn't because I could feel it when he held me. I hoped he didn't mind, but I'd made plans for us. Special plans.

"Please put on the blindfold."

I'm not going to tell him where we are going yet. "Just trust me," I told him.

I would never do anything to hurt him or embarrass him. He should know that by now.

"We've both been working way too hard and I think we could use a little relaxation. I've made all the arrangements." I asked him to come into my arms. To let me hold him. I want to kiss away all the tension. He always tastes good to me with his tongue swirling around my mouth. I suck his tongue while he presses his already firming cock against me. With my tongue, I simulate what I want him to do to me, in due time.

"Hold my hand and follow me. Trust me," I told him. "The ride isn't that long. Leave the blindfold on for now," I say.

I want to kiss him again. I want to run my tongue along his jaw line and down his neck. I reach for that now very prominent bulge in his pants. Leaning over I kiss it through the material. I can feel him tense.

"Where are we?" he asks.

"Someplace safe. You'll soon see," I answer.

I get out first, grab a backpack out of the back seat, and come around the car to let him out. When he is out of the vehicle, standing there, waiting for me to tell him to take off the blindfold, I just watch him. I can see his body start to relax. He still doesn't totally trust me, but drawing on the senses that he still possesses, he notices different things. The sounds are peaceful. There is a slight breeze. The wind is gently blowing causing the leaves to rustle between the many branches. He can hear the birds, chirping, singing, and calling the alarm that we are in their space. The water can be heard crashing and rushing somewhere off in the distance. The air smells clean, like pine needles and fresh dirt.

"We're almost there. Hold onto me and I'll guide you. I'll go slowly. I've brought you to one of my favorite places. Can you hear the sound of the water getting louder?" I ask.

We slowly and carefully travel down the path to the edge of the walking bridge.

"Stop here. This is one place where you can appreciate where we are. Take off the blindfold," I order.

I watch his reaction as his eyes adjust and the beauty spreads beyond him.

"What do you think? It's called Laura's Falls." I take his hand, "Come onto the bridge with me."

We stop in the middle, and he wraps his hands around me as we both stand there drinking in the wonder of it all.

"From up here you can see for what seems like miles along this river, and the whole thing is made up of small waterfalls and rapids. But there is one area I enjoy the most." I say as I pull him along. "Follow me along the footpath," I tell him.

"We're almost there. Are you ready?" I ask. I hope he likes it.

"Step through the trees and into the clearing." I hold my breath until I can tell by the look in his eyes that he appreciates it as much as I do. He reaches out for my hand. This small sandy beach surrounded by the pine trees and the huge boulders on all three other sides, makes the perfect hide-a-way. The beach leads to a small alcove where the river ponds slightly, creating a natural sunny pool.

"I've never brought anybody here before," I tell him.

He asks, "How did you find out about this place?"

I laugh. "No, my smile is not giving anything away. I tailed my older brother one afternoon when he and his girlfriend went out. And no, I didn't stay to watch them, but I have come back her on many occasions to relax and to catch some rays. Nobody ever comes up here so I never bother with the swimsuit. Have you noticed any pesky tan lines on my body?" I ask him. "Maybe you better take a closer look, and I mean a real closer look," I suggest.

He removes my T-shirt. Then he opens the snap, then the zipper on my shorts. He slips his fingers in.

"Can you feel how damp I already am?" He tugs them down all the way and he dips his fingers into me again.

In reality, I did the same to myself, again spreading my legs even further. I could see the light glistening off moisture already on my lips in the mirror across the room. A slight moan escaped.

Dean cleared his throat, "Are you actually doing it?"

"Yes. Are you getting harder?"

"Yes, and I'm slowly stroking it. Please continue."

"It feels so wonderful," I tell him, and he lets me lick his fingers, sucking my juices off his digits. "Where else would you like my tongue?" I tease.

As the midday sun beats down on my naked body, I decide he is way over dressed. Slowly I remove his clothing. I touch him everywhere, working my way up his body. Starting at his calves, then thighs, hips, stomach, buttocks, back, chest, and finally up to his shoulders. My breasts gently press against him.

"Feel better?" I ask. I reach into the backpack and bring out the blanket and sunscreen. I know there are certain parts of his anatomy that I wouldn't want to get sunburned.

To be on the safe side I ask him to put some sunscreen on my back first.

He spreads the lotion around, down my backside, sliding his hands along my legs.

"Yes, that would feel good." I moan into the phone.

Before he can put on the sunscreen though, he stops to give my nipples a little extra attention.

"Yes, Elena, do it to yourself," Dean encouraged.

I pinch and twist my nipples, massaging my breasts.

I love it when he licks and teases my nipples until the peaks are hard.

"Suck them into your mouth," I request. "Mmmmmmm. I love that feeling that goes straight to my pussy." I allow him to play with me, sending the shivers through my body, then finally push him away. "You better stop for a little bit. You don't have any sunscreen on."

I pour the creamy liquid onto his back. His muscles are still very tight. As I work the knots out of his back and shoulders I suspect other muscles have tightened.

"Front next," I say.

He rolls over and I see that I'm not disappointed. God, he has a beautiful body. It's not the breeze that makes me shiver. I can't help but think about all the things he has done to me, all the sensations that he has made me feel with every touch. I love the way he looks at me with desire in his eyes. I know he wants me. Probably almost as much as I want him. I bend over and flick my tongue over his nipple.

"Dean, do you like to have your nipples played with?"

"Yes. My ex-wife never understood that. She said it was a woman thing and that guys shouldn't feel that way. If you were with me would you play with my nipples?"

"Yes, I'd take them in my mouth and lick them. I'd nip them and suck them. I'd cover your chest with kisses, licking and tasting you."

"God, Elena you are hot! Keep going. I'm getting so turned on."

Then I cup and massage his balls with one hand while I stroke him with the other. But I want something else. I want to see him stroking himself.

"Do you think that when I'm out here by myself I don't take advantage of the natural beauty and seclusion? I want to see you do it too. I just want to lie here for a little while and watch." He should have known I'd ask him to do it eventually. Now is the perfect time.

"I want you to stroke yourself as I watch until just before you're going to come. Then I want you to back down."

"Tell me what you're doing Dean."

"You know I'm stroking myself. I'm giving myself long, slow pulls. There's a large drop of pre-cum seeping out and I'm spreading that around on the head. It's so sensitive. It feels so good. I'm stroking it some more, a bit faster. My cock is getting thicker, and harder. Tell me more."

I could hear his breath catching. "Do you mind if I play with myself a little?"

"Mind? No, please do. I want to hear this while you bring yourself to the edge. Just keep telling me."

"All right."

"I won't come yet. Not without you," I say.

I love to watch the emotions cross his face...surprise, apprehension, acceptance, excitement, pleasure, then finally pain. I want to remove that look of pain and replace it with a look of pure ecstasy.

"Sit up so that I can straddle you. I need to be close to you. I want to feel your very hard cock slowly easing into me." I slowly sink down, inch by inch. I tighten my pussy muscles. Releasing and tightening. I'm milking him with my pussy.

"Can you feel it Dean?" I slid my fingers into my pussy. Stroking them in and out, and tightening my pussy muscles around them. My fingers played with my clit. I was wet everywhere. "God, Dean, you should feel me."

"Elena, I'm so close to coming." he breathed.

I can feel his cock pressing against my g-spot and it's really getting me hot.

I stoked mine with my fingers.

I move up just a little, and then back down. Squeezing, relaxing, and tightening again. I don't think I can take it anymore. I want to wrap my legs around him. I want to pull him deep inside of me.

"Suck my nipples. Bite them gently. Rock me back and forth on your cock, faster and faster."

I can feel my orgasm building.

"I want to feel you come with me," I whisper. "Look at me. Open your eyes and watch me as I come. Trust me."

The primal grunts and groans I heard on the other end of the line told me that Dean was coming. "Yes, Oh God, Elena, I can't believe this, Ahhhhhh."

As he spoke to me, my fingers finished the dance over my clit. The other hand was sliding in and out of my dripping pussy, stroking the fires, and pushing myself to the orgasm, I knew I couldn't deny. "Oh, Dean. It feels so good. I'm coming," I moaned. "Oh, yes!"

Then there was only the breathing; he on one end, and I on the other. The both of us struggled for breath.

"Thank you," finally he said. "Did you feel it? That special connection between us?"

"Yes," I whispered. It had felt so wonderful. Like he had been there with me, and the reality that he wasn't actually there started to break through.

"I don't want this to end this way," he said. "I know you don't know me, and I have no right to ask you for this, but can I see you some time soon. I'm not ready to just walk away."

I thought about it. I had just done something with a complete stranger that I probably would never be able to tell another soul about. Who would ever believe that proper Elena would do something like what just happened? "I don't know," I hesitated.

"Think about it, please?" he pleaded. "Call again tomorrow morning before you leave. Either way, OK?"

"All right." I conceded, but the guilt was setting in. "Good night, and sleep well."

"Dream of me Elena. I'll be waiting to hear from you tomorrow morning. Good night."

I hung up the phone, turned out the lights, and climbed under the blankets. I was suddenly cold and felt desperately alone. I lie there awake for quite a while. How could I be considering calling him tomorrow? To be thinking about starting a relationship with a complete stranger was crazy. He knew nothing about me. I didn't even know what he looked liked. He most probably thinks I'm one hell of a slut to do what I did. The angel won and I wouldn't be calling him. Finally, I fell asleep.

Dreams are funny things. Not always welcome doorways into our souls. When you most want to push something from your thoughts, your dreams will bring them back to haunt you.

As I drifted between the different levels of sleep, I dreamt of October. I was walking in a maze of dried corn stalks. I dreamt of milkweed pods that upon bursting send their wispy seeds floating wherever they may with the hope that life will be good to them. I dreamt of laughter, togetherness, of arms wrapped around me, holding me tight, and of kisses dripped at the base of my neck.

I awoke more confused than before, wondering where that bit of philosophical musing had come from. I sat on the edge of the bed and shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. The angel of sensibility told me I had let the devil of lust mar my judgment the night before, but today I should see how inappropriate and impossible the whole situation with Dean was. Then the devil spoke up pointing out that sex is perfectly natural and I should enjoy life more. Besides that, think about the feeling of the dream.

However, in the end, the angel won out and I packed my bags, putting the whole situation behind me.

I dressed and went down to the front desk to check out. I wanted to make sure there were no hidden phone charges I was skipping out on. I handed over my room key to the clerk. "Could you check for any additional phone call charges for my room?" I inquired.

"Sure," he said. "What name and room?"

"Elena Carter, room 1134."

The clerk returned. Looking up and past me he smiled at someone who had a minute ago stepped behind me. "No, Ms. Carter. There are no additional charges."

"Thank you." I said, and I turned to leave. However, the man directly behind me didn't move.

I kept my eyes lowered and was about to try to step around him when behind me I heard the clerk say, "Well, Dean, how was your stay this time?"

I froze. Slowly my eyes rose drinking in the body. The body I'd seen before, but only from behind. I knew it immediately.

"This trip has brought me a few wonderful and curious surprises." The voice. His voice. I closed my eyes. I couldn't look at his eyes. My face felt hot, and I suddenly felt very ashamed. His hands gently gripped me by the shoulders.

"Everything seems to be in order. If you ever need anything just give us a call. See you next month?"

"I'm not sure Johnny. I might have a slight change in plans." To me he spoke softly, "Elena, would you please look at me?"

I did then. He was tentatively smiling. The wrinkles by his kind eyes had been the eyes of a dream. Almost loving, yet confused.

"Can I talk to you?"

I took a deep breath. "Yes" I whispered and he took my hand and led me down the hall to what appeared to be a very small conference or meeting room with a love seat, flanked by two chairs. It reminded me of a regular room without the bed. He sat me down in one of the chairs, and clasped both my hands in his. He sat on the coffee table. I watched our hands.

"Elena, why didn't you call? Not enough curiosity today?" he prodded.

We both remembered my comment from the night before. While I knew his question was meant to provoke me, I didn't want him to have the wrong impression. I pulled my hands free of his distracting fingers, stood, and walked to the window. Initially I just stared while I gathered my thoughts. I did owe him an explanation.

"Dean, there are a lot of things that I didn't tell you about me. Some of those things aren't quite as obvious as the one standing in front of you. I'm not a skinny, beautiful, sex starved woman. I guess I was a little more forward last night because you couldn't see me. Had I been standing next to you I never would have had the nerve to tell you all those things about me, and besides that, you probably wouldn't have noticed me even standing there.

"Elena, when I asked you to call me today, I just wanted to meet you. I didn't ask you to run away with me."

I smiled. Little did he know I would have liked that idea.

"And what do you mean the obvious one standing in front of me? You told me what you looked like last night, and I told you then that it didn't matter." He paused. I could feel his eyes studying me. I squared my shoulders and hugged my arms around myself protectively. "But it does matter to you. And someone else told you it mattered." He stood then, walked up behind me, wrapped his arms around me and held me. My heart tightened with a crazy mixture of hope and fear.

His lips were close to my ear, and his silky voice whispered to me. "Elena, you are a beautiful, sexy woman. I see it in more ways than you ever will, and I've just met you. I felt it right from the beginning. When I heard that first "Hello." Elena, give me a chance to prove it. Let me get to know you. Who knows what our future could hold? Just give us a chance." He kissed the nape of my neck.

Who was this man? This man whose voice caressed me, whose touch was igniting me. The devil and angel spoke together. "Maybe it's time to take the chance."


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