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The Perfect Moment

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By: Michael Lee

Copyright © 2000, by Michael Lee. All rights reserved.


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I am not to speak to you,
I am to think of you when I sit alone or wake at night alone,
I am to wait, I do not doubt I am to meet you again,
I am to see to it that I do not lose you.
- Walt Whitman

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April 8             

______________________________________________________________________________

It is over. I did what had to be done, and ended it. Funny. The ending played out much differently than I expected. There were no tears, no pleading to reconsider. He just accepted it, completely and without reservation. He told me he loved me, although he didn't come right out and say the words. But I know the truth, and that is why it had to stop. He was falling in love with me, and I cannot allow that. The love of another man is not my lot in life, not now, not ever. I have had my chance, and I have made my choice. I must now honor that choice, and live only this life, my life with Edward.

Still, I feel a great regret. I cannot dismiss the power his words had on me, the way he moved my very soul. I cannot deny the lure of his eyes, nor the warmth of his body. I have never felt this way before, and its power frightens me. And the worst part is my utter confusion. If anything, it is worse now than before. I thought ending it would put the longing to rest, and tame my desire for him. I thought the finality of the ending would close the hole that had opened in my heart. I prayed my strength would douse the flames that lick at my soul. Now, I fear I am lost. Lost without the love that I had always believed was out there. I may have just thrown that love away, without giving it the chance it deserved to be seen and shared.

For me, only time knows these answers. I pray peace will come to me now. I will pray for my heart. And I pray Sam will find what he is looking for. Unless he is looking for me, then I pray he will forget about me. I pray I never hear from him again. That is the only way I can be sure, for I cannot trust my heart if he returns. And, although I pray he will forget about me, I know with certainty I will never forget Sam. He made an impact on me. And I will never forget . . .

 

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"Next. Excuse me, sir?"

Sam Williams looked up to see the pretty young teller looking at him, a frown reducing an otherwise beautiful face to one that was merely pretty. He shook the fog from his head and stepped to the window.

"I would like to make a withdrawal," Sam said as he handed the teller the proper forms.

"Okay, Mr. Williams, how do you want this?"

"Large bills, please."

"Alright. Just one second, okay?"

The pretty teller looked at him with a slight smile, flirting with her eyes as she began to count his money. Sam didn't care. He wasn't in the mood to try to flatter or impress the young girl. All he could think of was getting out. This money would finance the escape he so desperately needed, and then, maybe he could get on with his life. For the thousandth time, he wondered how things could get so lost in such a short period of time. He ran his fingers through his short hair, and felt the beginnings of another tension headache building in his neck. Christ, he thought. Not another one.

The teller turned and passed his money across the high countertop. Sam thanked her and walked out of the bank. He climbed into his truck, turned the ignition, and began to back from the space. As he pulled the transmission into gear, he caught a glimpse of the local US Mail drop box by the curb. Suddenly, an idea leapt from his cluttered mind, startling him with its brilliance and clarity. Of course, he thought. The answer was there all along. That was it, the perfect way to begin the healing that had eluded him this past month. Time, the great healer of wounds large and small, seemed to have forgotten him. One month had passed, with each new day seemingly longer than the one before. Every hour of every day moved with excruciating slowness. Time wasn't coming to his rescue after all but instead of despair, he found comfort in that realization. Lately, the pace of time only served to remind him of his failings, while mocking the hopelessness of his future. And not one hour passed that he did not think of her. Lana, the girl that left him one month ago, causing the heartache that 50,000 minutes had failed to mend. He knew his healing could only begin with an admission of the truth. And the only way that truth could be expressed would be in the form of a letter. A letter from the heart. Sam turned onto the four lane, and headed home.


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May 10

______________________________________________________________________________

I saw him today. He was driving his truck, and had stopped at the intersection across from the Outback. As I watched, he turned across traffic into the bank parking lot and parked directly in front of the entrance. I followed slightly behind, hoping he wouldn't recognize me in Edward's truck. I stopped next to the quick lube shop, and watched as he opened the door and stepped from the truck. My heart fell. He looked like a beaten man, as he walked head down across the blacktop. His eyes never looked up, and he never turned around, even as the tinted glass door swung closed behind him, erasing him from my sight. I know that look. It is the look I see in the mirror every morning now. As I step from the shower, wet from the water and the steam, I see the same look of pain flash across my eyes. My days begin as they end, with the realization that I have wronged him and hurt him terribly. But, lately, my eyes show more than just guilt. They show the pain of a growing understanding of my true heart.

I am finally beginning to acknowledge the source of my pain. I have hurt him, for reasons I no longer remember. I know I was right at the time, and yet, the reasoning I used to justify my leaving now seem empty and hollow, full of deceit and dishonesty. And in the process, I have hurt myself too.

I left the parking lot with tears in my eyes. The road swirled before me, bathed in the great drops of water streaming down my face. My body was racked with sobs, and for the first time since I told him it was over, I cried. I stopped outside a small diner, and let my sorrow wash over me. I couldn't imagine how I could have been so wrong. How did I allow myself to hurt him so? And how did I allow my heart to remain closed so tight, when all I wanted to do was to love him. And now, with my heart finally opening to him, I am here alone. With only my sobs to comfort me.

God help me, please. Let me find him again. Give me the strength to face the truth, and if I am ever given a second chance for love, let me grasp it, and not allow it to slip from my hands.

 

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Sam pulled in his drive, and hopped onto the concrete with a light-hearted leap that surprised him. Despite the pain of losing Lana, he felt more at ease today, more at peace somehow. For the first time in a month, he had something he dared not wish for. He had hope.

As he sat down at his writing desk, he searched through the drawers, past the stacks of unpaid bills, and finally found what he was looking for. He pulled the old stationary from the drawer, surprised to find the matching envelopes that went with it. He opened the heavy paper, took the pen from the drawer, and stopped. The idea had come easily enough, but now finding the right words became a struggle. He had only one chance to get it right, and he decided against hurrying into it. He placed the pen on the desktop, and leaned back in the chair. His headache was beginning to recede under the attack of Excedrin he had ingested, so he closed his eyes to gather his thoughts.

Sam sat still. With his sight darkened by his eyelids, his memory quickly brought the past to light. Lana moved again with him, her eyes dancing, and her smile intoxicating. He heard the love in her laugh, and felt the warmth in her arms. His memory took him back, back to the day they met. The memory caused him to smile, for seemingly the first time in weeks. And once again, he was with Lana. He could see her, reaching for the book, taking it in her pretty hand, just as she turned and began to walk towards him. Later, as their eyes met that first time, a spark passed between them that would ignite a passionate flame that had yet to be extinguished. Within seconds, the memories came flooding back. It was early March, only two months ago. It seemed a lifetime though, as if time had stopped, refusing to allow him the comfort he desperately sought. His memory of their first meeting was as sharp as the night it happened, and suddenly, he was there once again . . .

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March 11

______________________________________________________________________________

I think I am losing my mind. I met a man today, in the bookstore. Since then, I have spent the past few hours thinking only of him. I cannot shake his eyes from my memory, and the worst part is I don't even want to try. My heart is pounding even now, and my hands are shaking as I try to formulate the words to describe what I am feeling. I can't be doing this. I'm engaged to be married in a few months, to the man I love. And yet, try as I can, I cannot see his eyes in my mind. I can only see Sam. Sam Williams.

I cannot fathom my recklessness. I gave him my name, and worse yet my cell phone number. I asked him to call me sometimes. What will I do if he actually calls? Worse yet, what if he doesn't call? God, I haven't felt like this in such a long time. I certainly never felt this way with Edward. But isn't it too late to be doing this? Yes, Lana, it is too late. I know that, and yet I can't stop it. This whole thing seems to be out of my hands. I feel I am being pulled along by destiny, and no one has thought to ask if I want to go. And to tell the truth, I don't know myself. Maybe I'll just wait and see what happens. I should let things take their natural course. If I am fated to be with Sam, then I will know. Somehow, I will know. At least, I hope I will.

 

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On that day in early March, Sam had taken his lunch break at the local bookstore, a habit formulated during his college years. Bookstores soothed him. He loved surrounding himself with the dark wooden shelves, filled to the top with row upon row of the passions, dreams, and fears residing within the pages. He stopped periodically, pulling books almost at random, reading the jacket while considering the book's potential. Sam chose his books by intuition. If the author's opening words spoke to him, then he would listen. He preferred not to rely on bestseller lists or the reviews of critics. Critics generally cannot be trusted to decipher the puzzle of a writer's heart and soul. That can only be found by immersing yourself in the work, letting the words ring in your mind as you open your heart to the story. But today, Sam was having difficulty finding a book to suit. He felt strangely distracted, and couldn't keep his mind on the task at hand. It seemed as if he was waiting on something, merely passing time until . . . until what? And that is when he noticed her.

She was standing with a book in her hand, one he immediately recognized as a recent top seller promoted by a famous talk show host. Sam was intrigued, and paused to watch as she held the book open, reading an early page with a look of intense concentration. She was totally absorbed in the writing, and he took advantage of her distracted state to carefully assess her. She was short, with a nice curvy body casually hidden beneath the denim overalls and white tank. Her hair was blond, and she carried it in a short sensible style, the ends falling just beneath her chin. Her nose and cheeks displayed a faint scattering of freckles, almost invisible beneath her tanned face. Her mannerisms hinted at confidence as she placed the book back on the shelf and began walking towards him.  Sam noticed that she seemed distracted, and did not appear to have seen him. But he quickly realized they would collide if he stayed put much longer. The thought of touching her lovely body, even in the form of an innocent collision, appealed to him, and he quickly turned and lifted a book from the shelf directly in front of him.

"Oh," she exclaimed as she inevitably bumped into his shoulder. "Excuse me, I should look where I'm going."

Sam smiled at her, pleased that his plan had actually worked, and replied, "Hey, that's alright. I guess I should have been looking too."

For a moment they remained still. He knew he was staring at her, but he couldn't take his eyes from hers. He was thrilled that she returned his gaze, her eyes never dropping. A smile formed on her lips, creating a slight dimple in one cheek as she slightly titled her head to look at him.

"Well, um, I am sorry. I'll be more careful next time."

"Okay. See you."

She stepped aside and began to move around him, but neither looked away. Sam searched for something to say, but strangely his tongue was in knots. He wanted to say something, anything to keep the moment alive, but his mind drew a blank.

She stopped again, this time directly behind him, and asked, "So, um, what book are you looking at?"

Sam looked at her, his thoughts lost in her blue eyes. Her smile dropped slightly, as she looked curiously at him.

"Hey . . . you awake?"

Sam snapped back to reality as he pondered the question. Book? What book? Then he remembered he had pulled one from the shelf just as she approached. He looked into his hand, and with growing horror, read what he pulled from the shelf - The Best Gay Erotica. Great, he thought. I finally meet a lovely girl, and she will inevitably think I'm gay. Sam quickly tried to hide the book, but the bold red title and hot cover design couldn't be hidden. He blushed as he struggled to come up with a lie that could salvage the situation.

"Ah, well, it's not for me. It's for . . . ah . . . my cousin . . . he's gay. Oh and he's a writer too. I'm getting this for him as . . . research . . . for his next book. It's a documentary about sex in the new Millennium." Sam felt his cheeks began to burn. Sam was a lot of things, but he was not a good liar. His cheeks gave him away every time.

The girl smiled at him, relishing his embarrassment, and clearly seeing through his lie. "Oh," she said, smiling brightly. "Lucky he has a cousin as thoughtful as you, huh?"

"Sure he is," he teased, happy to find a way out of the situation. "In fact people tell him all that all the time. 'Jerry' they say, 'you're lucky you have a cousin as thoughtful as Sam. Now if I had a cousin like that I'd be the happiest person in the world.' Yep, I hear that quite a bit you know."

"I see."

"Okay, look, I saw you there, and . . . I was sort of looking at you when you started walking towards me. I was embarrassed, and grabbed a book off the shelf to hide behind, so to speak."

She continued to look at him, her smile brightening as she recognized the truth behind his words. "Sam, right?" she asked, "I'm Lana. Lana Arrington."

"Lana. What a pretty name. I'm Sam. Sam Williams."

Lana stood there, shuffling her feet, but not lowering her eyes. "Well," she said, "I should be going."

Sam couldn't let her go. As he searched for the right thing to say, he blurted out, "Lana, wait. Would you like to, uh, maybe meet me for lunch one day?"

She smiled again. "Yes. I would like that very much. Here is my cell phone number," she said, taking out a pen and writing the number on a piece of paper from her purse. "Call me, okay?"

"Okay. Thanks, Lana. Nice to have met you."

Sam stared as she walked away. She turned to look back twice, smiling each time when she realized he was still looking. Sam watched until she left the store. He tucked the number safely in his wallet, and walked to his car. Now, if only he could make it until tomorrow. He would call her tomorrow, hoping to sound less desperate than he feared he was becoming. Sleep didn't come easy that night, and when it did, it was filled with images of the petite blonde, her lovely body, and her wondrous eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

March 12

______________________________________________________________________________

Sam called today. He called as I was just getting in the car, to drive home after work. He asked me to lunch, at The Market Café. And the frightening thing is, I said yes, without a moment's hesitation. Without once thinking of Edward. But it's only lunch. I'm not really doing anything wrong, right? But I should know better, for I saw his eyes. And I know how I felt as I stood next to him at the bookstore. God, I wanted him, even then. I would have gone home with him even then, if only he had asked.

I dreamt of him last night, and when I awoke, I was incredibly aroused. My hand drifted to my pussy, and to my surprise, I was soaked through. I tried to recall the dream, as I allowed my finger to slip under the leg band of my panties. Fleeting, drifting images flashed into my mind as I struggled to remember. I saw Sam, standing several feet in front of me. I was naked, on my knees, as he began to unbuckle his belt. My eyes were locked onto his, the hazel pools reflecting his growing lust. I licked my lips as he finally released his pants, and pulled out his cock. Slowly, he lowered his pants to the floor, as I began to crawl on all fours towards him. I was the hungry wolf, stalking my prey. I was alive with lust and desire, the ache between my legs throbbing with the illicitness of the situation. For some reason, I wanted more than just average sex with Sam. After all, that is what I had with Edward. In my dream, as in my life, I want so much more. I want to be wild, uninhibited. I want to taste the darker side of love. God help me I want to be a slut.

In the dream, I attacked his cock, lapping at the thick head, devouring every drop of his essence as I coaxed it from him. I treated his body, and especially his cock, with an intensity I never imagined. The dream was so different from the love-making with Edward. With Ed, I tend to be passive, almost compliant. I feel I am there for his pleasure, and not my own. I am afraid to actively seek my pleasure from him. I am terrified he will judge me, and will be disapproving of the dark fantasies that haunt my imaginary sex life. I want to be the aggressor. I want to be the pursuer. I want to fuck, and to be in control. And in the dream that is what I had.

As the dream continued, I used my hands and tongue to bring him to the very edge of orgasm. And then, as I sensed his urgency, I immediately stopped, and took his cock from my mouth. I released it completely, and watched as it twitched and leapt before me. I told him he could only come when I was ready. I told him he had to wait. He begged me with his eyes, and yet still did not speak.

The memory of the dream faded, although my desire intensified. I began to feverishly work on my pussy, the fingers of my left hand sliding through the wet and puffy lips, entering the tightness of my core. I strummed my clit with my right hand, and within minutes I sensed my climax rush from within, the waves of pleasure radiating from my sex. I jumped at each touch of my fingers, my breath coming in gasps as I thrust my hips at my imaginary lover. The feelings didn't diminish, and as I continued to fuck myself, I knew another orgasm was building within. Illicit images flashed before my closed eyes, driven by my growing obsession with Sam. I pictured him between my thighs, opening me gently while lapping at my center, tasting all of me. I lusted for his cock, picturing it as it slid into my hole. I watched as my mind created scenes of intense and raunchy fucking, bodies slapping together, hands touching everywhere at once. And suddenly, once again, I came. Amazingly, I just had my first multiple orgasm.

As I came down from my peak, I knew. I knew that I would have him. And now, even the harsh light of reality cannot dampen the post orgasmic glow. I need him. I need him more than anything I have ever wanted before. Tomorrow, I will waken the girl born in the dream of last night. Tomorrow, I will have him.

 

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Sam was waiting at the table as Lana walked inside. She was fifteen minutes late, and Sam had begun to think she wouldn't show. She stopped, and looked about the room searching for his face. He stood, and waved her over. As she approached the table, he noted the sway of her breasts under the dress, and he immediately felt the blood rush to his groin. His cock begin to stir.

They talked quietly and continuously as the food was served, then eaten. All through lunch, Sam would catch himself staring at her lovely blue eyes, marveling at the quality of light reflected from them. She looked directly back at him, her gaze comfortable yet insistent, as if she were offering a silent challenge. He could sense she was interested in him, not only in his words but in his body as well. He wanted her as well, but was unsure if he should pursue her so quickly. After all, they had only met a few days ago.

As the waitress placed the check at the table, Sam stood, and helped Lana to her feet. They walked to the cashier, and after paying the check, walked outside into the bright sunlight. Sam squinted as his eyes readjusted to the glare, and was surprised as Lana took his hand.

"Walk me to the car?" she asked.

"Sure."

She turned, and led him through the narrow alley towards the municipal parking garage. For some reason, Sam's mind filled with lustful thoughts about her, and his cock began to thicken in his pants. He forced himself to pull it together, and tried desperately to concentrate on something else. Thankfully, his cock understood his plea and began to shrink once again.

Lana stopped at the elevator in the corner of the garage. "I'm on level 3," she said as she pressed the call button.

Time halted as they both watched the elevator begin its slow descent. Instantly he became aware of the heat of her body so close to his. The air thickened with desire, his heart pounding in his chest. He had never felt this alive. He tried to remain calm, realizing that only a short walk remained before they had to say their good-byes.

Suddenly, the silence was broken by the sound of the elevator door opening. They stepped inside the empty car. As the door closed, Lana stepped in front of him. Immediately, she pressed her body against his, snaking into his arms as she turned her face to look up at him.

"Oh God, Sam . . . I . . . please . . ."

He silenced her by leaning forward and kissing her. The kiss intensified as he held her tightly, savoring the delicious feel of her soft breasts pressed tightly against his chest. Sam lowered his hands, and cupped her firm bottom in his hands. As he squeezed, he broke the kiss and began nuzzling into the side of her neck.

"Oh God, Sam. I need you. I need you in me. Can you . . . please?" She was almost breathless, her words catching in her gasps as Sam's kisses stoked her passions. Sam raised from her, and in one quick movement, flipped the red control switch from RUN to STOP. The elevator shook as it quickly came to a stop.

"Come on, Lana. We don't have much time." She immediately took his face in her hands and thrust her tongue inside his mouth. They kissed feverishly for several long moments before she broke away. Her hands traced lightly across his shirt, unbuttoning each button as she began to sink to her knees. Soon, the last button opened, and his shirt fell from his shoulders. Lana was now kneeling before him. She placed her hand on his bulge, and her fingers sought the outline of his hard cock hidden in the folds. She found him growing slowly under her touch, the head moving forward, seeking her very heat. She rubbed his shaft between her fingers, straining to catch a glimpse of what she needed so badly. Once she thought he had grown to his full length, she reached for his belt buckle.

Sam watched as Lana unfastened his pants and pulled down the zipper. He reached to his side to grasp the rail, steadying his shaky legs as she reached inside his boxers and pulled out his cock. He couldn't take his eyes from the blonde head below him, and he caught a glimpse of his hard pink shaft as it emerged from his underwear. Lana placed her hand on his cock, and gently stroked the length of him from crown to base. She paused, and extended her tongue to touch just the tip. Again, she stroked his hardness, up, then down, before repeated the tantalizing flick of the tongue. This time, she lingered a little longer, swirling her tongue around the head and playfully flicking at the tiny opening.

She was teasing him, torturing him with her deliberate slowness, even when their situation screamed to move quickly. After all, they were doing this in an elevator at a public garage. He heard the occasional car door opening and closing, and even the faint sounds of voices in the distance. And then, just when he thought he couldn't stand it any longer, she began to suck his cock with reckless abandon. She moaned softly as she swallowed his length, and she kept trying to look at his face as she devoured him. Sam delighted in the sight of his cock disappearing past the lips of this beauty at his feet. He closed his eyes, and moaned as the pleasure began to swell inside.

"Lana, please, baby," Sam whispered, his voice now thick with passion. "I can't take much more of this."

Lana pulled his cock from her lips, and looked at him. "Sam, are you ready? I . . . I need you . . . inside me. Please Sam, please. Come to me."

Sam took her face in his hands, and bent down to kiss her. As their tongues met once again, he could taste his own salty flavor. Lana stood, then turned slowly around. She leaned forward and grabbed the railing as Sam pushed her dress up and over her waist. He reached for her panties, and pulled them from her hips in one swift move. Sam stood, and admired the shape presented so lovingly to him. She was standing, bent slightly at the waist, her round, firm ass jutting proudly at him. Her legs were wide apart as she braced herself for the assault that would soon begin.

"Come on Sam. Hurry, baby. I need you . . . now . . . please?" Her breathless pleas snapped him from his admiration of her ass, and moved him to action. He moved to her, taking his cock in his hand and guiding it to her. She reached behind her, and took his cock from him, placing the thick head precisely at her soft and tender opening. She nuzzled against him, driving them both crazy with anticipation. Sam took control as he grabbed her hips and began to move forward, slowly pushing open the velvety tightness. He pushed until his pubic hair pressed into her ass, his cock now buried in her silky depths. He stopped, relishing the feel of the new woman surrounding his cock. Lana was impatient, and signaled her intentions by wiggling her ass, forcing the cock within to move. Sam sensed she wanted a hard fast fucking, and her words left no doubt as she voiced her desire.

"Oh God, Sam, you feel so good in there. Come on, fuck me. Please, I need you to fuck me. Oh God . . . please?"

Sam did as he was told, starting his movements with slow long strokes, but quickening his pace as soon as he felt her open to him. Within minutes, he was driving into her with a force and passion he had seldom known. The sounds of their bodies slapping against each other encouraged the hard grunts of exertion and cries of passion. Lana began to gasp, her breath quickening and catching as she expressed her building desire.

"Oh . . . oh . . . Sam . . . yesss . . . ohhhhh yessss!" Her body began to tremble as an overwhelming orgasm shook her. She continued to cry out, and her gasps of pure delight pushed Sam to the edge. He struggled to maintain control, but quickly lost the battle as Lana began to have another orgasm on the end of his aching cock. The intense contractions that squeezed his cock ended whatever will power he had remaining. He thrust deep within her still contracting cunt, and held still as he released his climax within her.

Sam held her tightly, not wanting to leave the safety of the comfort of her warm body. He held her until the reality of their situation reappeared with an insistent knocking and the sound of concerned voices above them. He withdrew his wet cock from her, and together they quickly dressed and attempted to compose themselves as he returned the switch to RUN. The elevator lurched ahead, and began its steady climb. The doors opened to a small crowd of curious onlookers. Several people, most of them women, averted their eyes as they emerged from the elevator. The nervous glances made it apparent that although their liaison was shielded from prying eyes, the thin walls of the elevator did little to hide their exertions from prying ears. Lana broke into nervous laughter as they walked quickly to her car.

"Oh God, Sam," she exclaimed enthusiastically as she opened her door. "I can't believe we just did that. In front of all those people too! I am so embarrassed."

Sam blushed. "Don't be embarrassed. It was fun, wasn't it? And from the looks on those women's faces, maybe it did them some good to hear what a passionate lady really sounds like."

"Yeah, but now they think I must be a whore."

"Lana, you aren't a whore. No more than I am. Look, what just happened was . . . special, not cheap. Lana, I feel so . . . close to you. Now more than ever. There is something different about you. A feeling I have never experienced before."

Lana looked at him with eyes softened by the experience they had just shared, and silenced him with a soft kiss. "Sam, will I see you again?"

"Lana, of course you will. I'm not that kind of guy. I'm not seeing you just for that. Don't you see that?"

"Yeah. I guess I do. But still, this is moving so . . . so fast. I mean, I don't even know you. You don't know me. You really know nothing about who I am Sam. Can't you see that?"

"No Lana, I don't.  I only see you. But I only know what you choose to show me. So far, I like what I see. But I want more. Are you willing to show me?"

Lana paused, as if deciding on the proper response. "Yes Sam. I'll show you. I'll show you all. I just need a little time okay?" 

"Okay, Lana."

"Call me tomorrow? I want to see you again, and again. But, I need to think about some things too. Just . . . call me, okay?"

With that, he kissed her, and stood aside as she pulled away. Her brake lights flashed once, twice and then she was gone, leaving him with a smile and a memory that would last forever.

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March 13

______________________________________________________________________________

I fucked him. I did what I set out to do, and fucked him. I wish I could say that we had made love, but I know better. How could it be about love? After all, I had only seen him twice before I allowed him to fuck me. In an elevator for God's sake. I guess I should be proud. I wanted to be a slut and that is what I am. I am the one that started it. I am the one that allowed it to go that far. And now, I am sure he will never call again. Maybe that is what I wanted all along. After all, I belong to another man. I cannot allow myself to get involved in another relationship.

But I fear it is already too late. I feel something undeniably strong with Sam. I never would have allowed it to go so far so fast if I hadn't. I feel things, things I never experienced at any time with Ed. My heart cries out for Sam. I want him so badly. I want him again, and again. Please God. I hope he calls. I hope it isn't over. Oh God, I hope . . .

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam opened his eyes and stared at the blank page before him. The sheer delight of that first encounter hung in his memory as he struggled to find some joy to replace the misery of the past month. He shuddered as he remembered that first time in the elevator. He thought back to their next meeting, and remembered Lana's obvious excitement when he arrived for the dinner date he promised. He was shocked to learn that she had believed he would never call again.

Over the course of the next few weeks, they went on a several dates, each one ending in his bed. She was the most uninhibited woman he had ever known. She asked him to do many of the things he had always dreamed of, yet had been afraid to ask of any girl he had dated. But despite her openness in sexual matters, she refused to allow him to see all of her. She kept him at arm's length somehow, refusing to allow him to get close. He guessed at her reluctance, but ultimately was completely surprised when the truth was finally revealed. By that time, he had fallen hopelessly in love with her, even though he had not confessed this love.

A frown crossed his face as he forced himself to replay the events of that fateful evening.  It happened on a Friday.

Sam had asked Lana to meet him for dinner after work at their favorite Italian restaurant. He arrived early, at least fifteen minutes prior to their scheduled date. As he settled in, he ordered a bottle of wine, studied the menu, and watched for her arrival. She entered the restaurant at exactly 6 o'clock, looking dazzling in a sheer off white blouse that dipped invitingly between her full breasts. The short black skirt and stylish shoes highlighted her legs, and several heads turned as she walked in the door. She never failed to make an impression wherever they went, and tonight was no exception. One look at her face however, caused his stomach to tighten with worry. Her face was taught with an expression of concern mixed with sadness. Her lips were pulled down, with no trace of her usual smile. He stood, and waved her over with a mixture of anticipation and dread at something he feared yet could not place.

"Lana," Sam said as he helped her into her seat. "Are you okay? Is something wrong?"

She looked at him, and shook her head. "Oh Sam. Look, I have been thinking all day. Since last night actually. I . . ."

"Lana? Come on, what is it?"

"Sam, please," Lana said, her eyes filling with tears. "Just give me a minute okay? I have something I have to tell you."

She paused, and collected herself, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. Sam stared at her, lost in his thoughts. This can't be happening, he told himself. He knew without a doubt that it was over. He had no idea why, and the suddenness of this realization shocked him into a state of numbness. He swallowed the lump that suddenly appeared, before reaching across the table to take her hands.

"Lana. You're scaring me."

"Oh, Sam. I . . . I don't want to scare you. But, I have to say this. Just listen, okay?" She looked at him, and smiled briefly, squeezing his hands to reassure him that it wasn't as bad as he thought. Or was it? "Sam, I'm engaged. I'm engaged to be married."

"Lana, I know. Hey, I've seen the ring you know. I know you never mentioned it, but come on, I'm smart enough to have figured that much out. I don't care about that."

Lana looked at him, and the sadness in her eyes shook him. A tear spilled from her right eye, tracing a faint line down her cheek. Sam stared at it, thinking absently how beautiful she was, even as she cried.

"But I do, Sam. I do. God, I am engaged to be married to another man in a few months. But instead of loving my fiancé, I have been going out behind his back and fucking you. How can I possibly start a marriage by cheating on him even before the wedding?"

"Then don't marry him Lana. Come on, think baby. You aren't ready. Jesus, Lana, look at us. We have such fun together, and I don't mean just the sex. We connect. We are so alike. I am completely happy with you, and I think that we have something special starting here. Don't you?"

"Yes . . . I mean . . . no Sam. No. We aren't starting anything. I am going to be married soon, and I am going through with it. Sam, I love Edward. I know it doesn't seem that way, but I do. He has given me so many things. I can never repay him for all the love and trust he has given me over the years. I promised him that I would marry him, and that is what I am going to do. I'm . . . I'm sorry Sam."

Sam couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Lana, are you saying that what we had wasn't special to you?"

"Oh Sam, don't make this harder than it has to be. Please."

"So," Sam asked, perhaps a bit too defensively, "this was just a last ditch fling before you get hitched huh? One last chance to be the party girl before you have to settle down, right?"

Lana looked hurt. "No Sam. Look, I admit that it may have started out that way. I mean, I was worried about my future. I thought, maybe I had missed a turn somewhere. I thought I had already lived my life. But then, I met you, and I saw something different. I saw someone that could allow me to be different. And that is what you and I had. It was wonderful, but it wasn't me. It was who I wanted to be, at least for a little while. But now, I have to be who I am. And that person is the girl about to be married to Ed."

Sam smiled, and nodded his head. "So, I guess I just found you too late to have a chance then, huh?"

"In a strange way, I suppose you're right. I don't know Sam. I honestly don't know. Maybe this was just about my insecurity about Ed. Maybe . . . it was more than that. But, Sam, please know this. You stirred something deep inside me. I found myself thinking of you more and more, and of Ed less and less. You made an impact on me. I'll never forget you. No matter what you may think of our relationship, know that I'll never forget you."

Lana released his hands, and slowly stood. She smiled once again, giving him the smile that lit his heart on fire only a short month ago. "Good bye Sam. Smile for me, okay?"

And with that, she turned and walked away. Sam sat there, and stared at the door, halfway expecting her to return, to take his hands and beg him to forgive her. It was all a mistake, she would surely say. By the time he finished the third glass of wine, he accepted the fact it was over. He left his money on the table, and walked away. The dinner entrée cooled on empty table, forgotten and untouched. The busboys, oblivious to the shattered remains of the doomed romance, swept the table clean, preparing it to stage another scene in the ongoing drama of love.

A tear landed on the page, darkening it slightly as it was absorbed into the paper. Sam shook the ghosts of that night from his head, and wiped the tears away on his sleeve. Come on, Sam, he thought. Get a hold of yourself. She's gone. And then, he remembered why he was here, sitting at his desk with a tear-stained sheet of stationary in front of him. He was here to set the record straight. In the sleepless nights since Lana walked out, he couldn't shake his regret for one thing he had not done. Despite the feeling in his heart, he allowed his pride to quiet his emotions that night. He regretted that he allowed her to leave, without her knowing the truth. And now, he was here to set the record straight. He took the pen in hand, and began to write.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

May 14

______________________________________________________________________________

I got his letter today. Sam. I couldn't believe it. I walked to the mailbox as I usually did, and there it was. Once I saw the name written above the return address, my heart skipped a beat. I ran inside, and tore it open as fast as I could. My eyes scanned the page trying to take in all the words at once, frantically trying to understand him in one instant. Finally, my heart slowed enough to read it. As I read, I felt my heart race again. He hadn't forgotten me, as I was sure he would. And suddenly, as I finished his last line, I knew what I was going to do. I want him back. I want 'it' back, whatever 'it' is. God help me, I want Sam. I will pick up the phone, and call him. And I will give him the one thing he asked for. I will tell him yes.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam heard the car door shut just as he opened the refrigerator door. He paused, then heard the doorbell ring. As he walked the few steps down the hall, he thought about the moment that was finally at hand. His hand trembled as he reached for the knob. And there, framed by the opening, stood Lana, smiling. She fell into his arms, their bodies pressing together as they sought to touch each other fully and completely. He turned his mouth to hers, and found her waiting for him, willing. They kissed, tasting the regret of the wasted month on their tongues. Sam held her tightly, as if he were afraid she would slip away again. Even as he held her, he still could not believe she was here, in his arms once again. He had not allowed himself to hope that his letter would result in a reunion. The letter was as an act of confession. It was not a confession of sin, but a confession of love. Sam wanted Lana to know just how much he cared. He wrote it to confess his love, to finally put his heart at ease. Nothing else mattered at the time but honesty. All he wanted from the letter was to be able to sleep at night. And now, here she was once again.

They broke the kiss just long enough to allow Sam to take her hand and lead her to his bedroom. As they walked to the edge of the bed, he took her hand and began to speak.

"Lana, please . . . "

"Shhhh, Sam." Lana quieted him with a finger to his lips. "Please baby, no words. Just love me. There will be time to talk later, but now, I just need you. I . . . I just need you, Sam. Let me show you how much I need you."

Lana kissed him tenderly, briefly darting her tongue between his lips before breaking free. She pushed him gently to the bed, and then stood to look at him. Sam's heart raced in his chest as he began to anticipate the lovemaking that was surely about to begin. He couldn't believe this was actually happening. But there was something else at work here. Lana had a different look in her eyes, one borne of the hunger of lust and love. Maybe it was his imagination, but Sam sensed that something was about to change their relationship in a way he had not foreseen.

"Sam," she whispered her voice thick with lust.

"Yes, Lana?"

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes. I trust you completely Lana. You read my letter, didn't you?"

She hesitated. "That's why I am here Sam. That, and something more. Sam, I need you. But . . . I . . . " She paused, as if unable to continue.

"Lana, what is it? You can tell me."

"Sam, remember the times we made love before?"

"God Lana, how could I possibly forget? You were incredible."

"See, that is what I am trying to say. Sam, I want you to know this. Until I met you, I never dreamed of doing those things with a man. Ever. Not with Ed, not with anyone. But then, I met you. And from the moment we met, I knew . . . I knew that I could trust you. And that you . . . could give me the things I always wanted, but was afraid to ask for. You can give me even more, can't you? Do you know what I am trying to say?"

"I think so. But tell me. Tell me Lana."

"No Sam. I . . . I would rather . . . show you. Do you trust me Sam?"

Sam paused, his throat tight with the knowledge that she was about to make his darkest desires come true. He knew, right then, that anything he could wish for, he could have with Lana. And he knew he would give her anything she desired as well.

He closed his eyes, and whispered to her, "Yes. Anything Lana. You can do . . . anything."

"Sam, before we start, I want you to know one thing. I love you Sam. I have since the day we met. I never stopped loving you."

"Lana . . ."

"Shhhhh, Sam. Close your eyes, and just wait for me. Wait."

Sam closed his eyes, and listened as Lana walked across his bedroom floor. He heard the sound of a door open, and then the soft sounds as she moved clothes around in his closet. He could hear her steps as she walked back across to the floor, stopping once again at the foot of his bed.

"Don't move, love." Lana's voice was soft and gentle, yet firm. "Don't move, and don't open your eyes until I say so, understand?"

"Yes." Sam felt his cock begin to strain against his pants as he listened to her voice. His breath quickened, and he extended his tongue to moisten his increasingly dry lips. He had no idea what was in store for him, but he could barely stand the anticipation. His mind was spinning in a thousand directions. He prayed that she was indeed taking the first steps to satisfy his most hidden desire.

"Are you hard, Sam?"

"God Lana. Yessss. I am so hard baby."

"Quiet Sam. Only answer yes or no, unless I specifically tell you otherwise. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Good. Now, extend your arms."

Sam did as he was told, and extended his arms to either side. She took his right arm, and encircled his wrist with a terry cloth sash she had removed from the bathrobes he had in his closet. As she tied the free end around the bedpost, she looked into his eyes once again, her eyes suddenly wide with doubt.

"Sam, do you . . . um . . . is this bad?"

"No, baby. Please . . . please do it."

With his assurance, she bound his left arm just as securely as his right. And then, she produced his favorite necktie. With a devilish smile, she fashioned the necktie into a blindfold and wrapped it around his head. Suddenly, the room was darkened. His heart leapt in his chest as he realized just how helpless he now was. He was completely and utterly under her control. He struggled briefly against his binds, and found them comfortably loose, yet completely secure. He could not break free even if he tried.

A minute passed. Then two. He felt the bed shift as Lana stood once again. He thought he could hear the soft rustle of her clothes. He imagined her standing in his room, slowly removing her clothes, her fingers lightly tracing her exposed skin as each piece was removed. He imagined her shirt as she lifted it from her head. She was wearing no bra, something he noticed as she walked in. He imagined her hands as they pulled the tight jeans from her hips. Her fingers then hooked the sides of her thong, and pulled it free, revealing her completely.

Suddenly, the darkness of the blindfold brightened to a dull gray. He immediately realized she had switched on the table lamp beside the bed. He then heard the unmistakable sound of the blinds being pulled. Sam's mouth went dry.

"Lana, what are you doing?"

"Shhh, Sam. You mustn't speak. But, if you have to know, I am standing here, completely naked in front of you. I want to see you, so I turned on the light. And the last sound you heard, was me opening the shades. I want your neighbors to watch us tonight. I want them to see exactly what you will do to please me."

Sam could not believe how excited he now was. He never imagined sex could contain such overwhelmingly powerful emotions. He was overcome by the intensity of the moment, as the sensory depravation began to take effect. As Lana's soft hand grazed across his aroused crotch, his breath caught in an audible gasp.

"Ah, so you are enjoying this, aren't you Sam?"

"Yesssss," he whispered, remembering her demands.

"Good. Now Sam, I am going to remove your pants. You must hold completely still, do you understand?"

"Yesssss."

Lana's hands began to slide up his skin, starting at his ankles, then to the the inside of his thighs, before lightly tracing the outline of his hard cock through his pants. She removed his belt, opened the snap, and lowered the zipper. Her hands gently raised his hips from the mattress before she pulled his pants, along with his underwear, from his body.

"Oh, Sam, your cock is so hard, baby. You look like you can't stand much more of this. Tell me Sam, would you like me to touch it now?"

"Oh God, Lana, please."

"Tell me, Sam. Tell me what you want me to do with it."

"Lana, I want you to kiss it."

"Kiss it, love? Come on Sam, you can do better than that."

"Lana, I want you to . . . to suck it baby. I want you to . . . suck my cock. Please, take my cock into your mouth."

"Yes, Sam. That's it. That's what I want to hear. So, baby, you want me to suck that big cock of yours?"

"Yesss!"

Suddenly, Sam felt something warm and wet wrap around the head of his exposed cock. Lana put the cockhead into her mouth and gently sucked him past the crown as she descended his shaft. Slowly, she eased inch after inch into her mouth. When his cockhead reached the back of her mouth, he felt her open her throat as she swallowed his cock. She stopped only when he felt her lips against his pubic patch. As soon as she hit bottom, she grabbed his balls with her hand, measuring the heft in her small hand. She backed away from him, her hand following her mouth, caressing his shaft in her firm grip. She paused at the head, before taking her tongue and swirling it around, licking him and causing his cock to jump as her tongue flicked across the tiny opening. Over and over, she repeated the movements, taking him deep in her throat while caressing his balls with her loving hand.

Just as he was getting used to the rhythm and pace of her exquisite talents, she pulled his cock free, releasing him with her mouth as well as her hands. Sam felt the cool air dance across the wet tip of his aching cock, but he made no sound.

"Sam, was that good, baby? Did you get enough?"

"Oh God, yes, Lana. But Lana, please, I want to come so badly. Please, love."

"Oh no, not yet you don't. You haven't given me my pleasure yet. Remember Sam, you said anything right?"

"Yes . . . anything . . . please. . . "

"Sam, have you ever seen a girl . . . fuck herself with a toy?"

"Yes."

"Then you know how she loves to take the thick head, and use it to part her pussy lips don't you? You know how she loves to take the head of her toy and tease her little clit until she can stand it no longer, don't you?"

"Yes, Lana."

"Sam, will you be my toy? Can I use your cock as my toy? Can I use it to come with?"

"Oh yeah, you can use my cock. Do it, baby."

Lana she climbed on the bed. She placed her knees at his side, and suddenly he felt the warmth and wetness of her pussy as she sat on the length of his cock.

"You can't move, love. Remember, you are only my toy. You cannot move, and you cannot come until I have."

She began to slide her pussy up and down the length of his cock. She was drenching wet, and the slick warmth of her slit sent shivers down his spine as she caressed the underside of his cock. Lana rocked back and forth, allowing his cock to open her, but not enter her. She began to moan aloud each time his cockhead brushed against her exposed clit. With his cock in her hand, she held his shaft tightly in her grasp as she teased him once again.

"Hmmmm, God Sam, you have such a nice, firm cock. I don't think I have ever had one this big and this hard. I am going to enjoy this toy, love."

She then took his cock and began to stroke it against her open pussy. She raised up on her knees, and moved the cock as she wished it, opening her lips, then pushing it across her hard little nub. Each time she pressed against her clit, she would gasp, crying out as her pleasure began to build.

"Oh fuck, baby, you have gotten me so wet. I am so close already. So close. Don't come yet, please don't come yet. Just . . . a few more minutes."

Sam struggled to maintain his control. He knew she was close, and truth be told so was he. But he also knew how important it was for Lana to come as she wanted to, exactly as she needed to. He would hold off any way he could to ensure she got what she needed from him. Fortunately, she was much closer than he thought, and within seconds he felt her begin to come. She cried out, and began to move with a series of quick jerks. Suddenly, she leaned forward and placed his cock at her opening. In one quick move, she leaned back, thrusting his cock inside her pussy as she cried out his name.

"Now, baby! Oh . . . God . . . I'm coming! Fuck me, Sam.  Please fuck me, baby!"

Sam thrust his hips at her now, attempting to give her what she begged for. He wanted to fuck her, to fill her with cock, the cock she so obviously loved. As she rode him, he felt the intensity of her contractions tightening around his cock. As she reached the peak of her climax, she called to him.

"Now, Sam, come, baby. Come for me, love. You can do it, come for me now!"

Sam allowed his mind to focus on the scene playing in front of him for the first time since she had taken his cock to her wet pussy. He imagined the sight, as a passerby would see it. The light from his window would illuminate them clearly. Anyone would see a beautiful blond, her tits bouncing deliciously as she sat astride a well-built brown-haired man. Closer inspection may reveal his hands bound to the bed, and a blindfold covering his eyes. He imagined what the middle aged couple across the street would think of this scene, and wondered if they were watching him even now. And then, as he imagined how Lana would look from the street, fucking him, coming on him, he lost all control. He called to her, signaling that he had obeyed her. He wanted her to know that he had done everything she had asked. As he filled her with his come, he wanted her to realize that he would do anything for her, anytime, any place. 

They lay completely still. Sam was still tied to the bed, but his blindfold had been removed. He noticed the blinds were still closed tightly after all, as Lana reached over to switch off the light. She returned, untying him before wrapping her arms around him as she lay on top of him. He could feel his come trickling from her, coating his soft cock with the delicious mixture of their love. They lay together, each one completely still, until their breathing slowed as they shared the same breath, just as they had shared their love.

As Lana fell asleep, Sam reflected on how far they had traveled to be here, in this way, at this exact moment. Their journey had not come easily, and he had experienced joy and pain unmatched in any previous love. And he knew they had many struggles yet to face. He didn't know what the future held, he only knew he wanted to spend each moment of the present with her. As he listened to her sleep, he realized that this was indeed the perfect moment. The one moment in time where anything could be possible. A love he had thought was gone had returned to him. A heart he had thought was broken, now filled with hope. At this moment, the only truth was love. They had validated this love, and had reveled in its passionate and tender glory. The only thing that mattered was the pressure of Lana's body against his, the feel of her heartbeat against his skin, and the warmth of the breath they shared. Let tomorrow laugh, he thought, for no matter what the future brings, it will never erase this perfect moment.


THE END

I hope you enjoyed this story.  If you wish, drop me a line at mikethelee@hotmail.com. I reply to every e-mail I receive, and I look forward to hearing from you.

 


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