by Clara James
She wasn’t exactly sure what to expect when she opened her emails, but she’d secretly hoped that she would find a message from Carl. Sure enough, her inbox had just one unread email, and it was from him. Like her note to him, it was brief. ‘I had a great time, too. If you ever want to meet up again, you know how to find me.’ Allie smiled, wondering if she should take him up on the offer. Sex with him was certainly good. However, it would get too complicated if she spent more than a night with him. He might start to think that she wanted a relationship and, even if he didn’t, if he saw her on even a semi-regular basis, there were things he might notice. Bruises, loss of weight, things she wouldn’t be able to hide from someone who saw her naked. No, there was no question. As wonderful as Carl was, it could only be a one night deal.
Besides, she reminded herself, the whole idea was to make up for all of the lost opportunities she’d had. And, she had to admit, part of the reason sex with Carl had been so good was because it was entirely free, uncommitted, maybe even meaningless. Allie knew, without question, that was what she hungered for.
Closing the email inbox, she opened a new browser and typed words she never thought she would write, ‘www.facebook.com’. Allie had always been a firm believer that Facebook was a complete waste of time. Now, however, she began to see a way of using it to her advantage. She wanted to contact men from her past, men who previously she simply hadn’t had time for. Consequently, with the exception of Carl, who she’d bumped into quite by accident and exchanged email address with, she hadn’t remained in touch with any of the guys who were now on her list of potential lovers. What better way to find them, than through Facebook? “Who would have thought,” she muttered, typing her details to open a profile on the site. “I’m actually grateful to Mark Zuckerberg for creating this crap.”
It didn’t take long to find a number of friends she’d attended college with and through many of them, she was able to find others, who for one reason or another weren’t listed on the college network. Soon, she’d already got over 150 ‘friends’. There were four men that she remembered particularly vividly and, writing quick private message to all of them, she hoped that they would remember her, too.
By the time she set the laptop back on the table, her dinner was cold, but she found she wasn’t hungry anyway. She left the goopy, unappetizing mess and kept her eyes on the computer screen. Leaning forward, she lent her elbows on her knees and placed her chin on her hands. As the seconds ticked by, she tapped her index finger against her cheek. She knew that it was stupid to sit there waiting, she was well aware of the fact that people had lives and weren’t logged onto Facebook twenty four hours a day. Nevertheless, the anticipation would not allow her to think of anything else.
So she continued to sit, as the minute’s ticked by, willing just one of the men to write to her, even if it was just to say, ‘No, I’m sorry, but I haven’t got a clue who you are.’ After fifteen excruciatingly long minutes, the small red ‘1’ appeared at the top of the message icon. Allie slipped from the couch and settled on the floor, pulling the laptop close to the edge of the coffee table, so she could reach the keyboard with ease.
The first man to reply was Stephen Lanzmann. He worked on the college paper and that meant Allie had had more time for him than most men. They even went on a couple of dinner dates. However, when he tried to move things further, Allie convinced herself that it would be a bad idea to sleep with someone she worked with, even if it was just on the college paper. She believed, somewhat illogically, that it would lead people, especially future employers, to assume that that’s how she got ahead in the workplace. So, their blossoming relationship was ended before it ever went anywhere.
She opened his message with no small amount of trepidation, wondering if perhaps, even though he’d been outwardly very understanding of her decision all those years ago, he was secretly pissed off. The opening line appeared to suggest that her concern was in vain. ‘Oh my, God! Allie McLaren, how long has it been?’ He went on to discuss old times, asking whether she remembered some of the stories they’d worked on together. Then, he asked the question she’d wanted to ask him. ‘Would you like to meet up some time?’
Not bothering to appear to play it cool, Allie chose not to wait before replying. Soon, a date for the following week was arranged. And, just as she was about to close the laptop, she found another new message. Within ten minutes, she had a second date, just three days after her planned meeting with Stephen. She wavered momentarily over whether to see the two men so close to one another, but shrugged off any concern the old Allie would have had, insisting that she didn’t have the luxury of time. Besides, she reminded herself, she wasn’t the old Allie any more. If there had been any residual doubt over that, Carl had washed it away.
CHAPTER FIVE
NO REGRETS
The first three days of the working week dragged slowly for Allie. She rushed a few pointless assignments, but her heart wasn’t in her work at all. She spent most of her time scrolling through the Facebook profile of Stephen, trying to piece together his life since college.
By the time she headed home early on Wednesday afternoon, she’d learned that he’d recently split with a girl he’d been engaged to. There was no overt reference to the cause of the breakup, but, from the messages of sympathy Stephen had received from friends, which included unflattering remarks regarding the lady in question, Allie guessed there had been infidelity on her part.
All of this meant there was a good chance Stephen would be open to her suggestion of a guilt-free, no-strings evening of fun. He needed a sexual sorbet. Nothing too serious, just a night of purely physical pleasure to help get over the woman who’d broken his heart.
After a long, unhurried bath, during which time she shaved, exfoliated and tweezed her body to perfection, Allie dressed in a long red dress with plunging neckline. She’d got no plans to leave the apartment, but Stephen didn’t need to know that. Besides which, she wanted to wow him.
It was exactly seven o’clock when a firm knock sounded at the door. She rolled her eyes good-naturedly, remembering his almost obsessional punctuality. Smiling, she wandered to the door and pulled it open. “Right on time,” she announced.
Stephen Lanzmann was no jock, like Carl, but he was no less attractive. He had wavy, sandy blonde hair, which Allie noted was just long enough to rake her hands through. In a dramatic move from college, Allie found him embracing his inner geek. He’d ditched the contacts and returned to wearing thick-rimmed glasses. He wore fitted, dark blue jeans with a black dress shirt and a grey suit jacket. His light brown eyes took her in slowly, before a smile that was all bright white teeth emerged on his face.
Allie remembered that smile well. It was a dazzling grin, a genuine look of pleasure or joy, which reached his eyes and possessed such magnetism that it was impossible for anyone to dislike him.
“Hi,” he greeted, lifting his hand in a slightly nervous wave.
Allie had known this would be different from her experience with Carl. Stephen was an inherently shy guy. He wasn’t going to make any moves on her, especially if he felt self-conscious or tense. So, she had to remind him what it had been like between them when they were friends. Stepping forward, she opened her arms and pulled him into a hug. “It’s really good to see you,” she enthused, genuinely. “Why don’t you come in?”
It took a while for Stephen to force his limbs to react to the embrace and by the time he was wrapping his own arms around Allie’s tiny frame, she was already drawing back. “Err, thanks,” he grinned. “You look great,” he added.
“You too,” she smiled standing aside and offering him entry into the apartment.
Stephen gratefully accepted, stepping across the threshold and slowly taking in the living room in front of him. He wasn’t surprised by what he saw. No artwork on the walls, no pictures, clean wooden floors, no clutter, no ornaments collecting dust. It was simple, uncomplicated. It was very Allie.
“Do you want to sit down?”
Allie urged, draping an arm around Stephen’s waist and turning him in the direction of the couch.
“Umm, sure,” he nodded, following her lead and lowering himself onto the leather, L-shaped furniture. “Aren’t we heading out?” he added.
“We can if you want to,” Allie replied, settling next to him and making sure her thigh was pressed tightly against his. “But I was thinking we could stay here.”
“Oh,” he responded in surprise. “Well, sure,” he quickly added. “I mean, it’s quieter here. We can talk properly.”
Allie smiled to herself, placing a hand on his leg, as she leaned closer to his ear. “I wasn’t thinking about talking, either,” she whispered.
“You weren’t?” he questioned, his eyes moving down to her fingers and the suggestive way they crept around to his inner thigh.
“No,” she huskily announced. “I was thinking about that night we went to the cocktail bar and what happened when we got back to my place.”
Stephen swallowed hard. “Nothing happened when we got back to your place,” he said. There was no hint of accusation; it was just a simple statement of fact.
“That was a mistake,” she whispered, her lips brushing against his smooth, soft cheek as they moved. “My mistake,” she added.
“Allie,” he sighed, twisting in his seat, so that her body was not quite as close to his. “I don’t think this is a good idea,” he noted. “I’ve just got out of a-”
“It’s all right,” she quickly interjected forestalling him. “I know you’re not looking for anything serious. Neither am I,” she smiled, tipping forwards and offering him a view of her naked cleavage. “I just want a chance to relive a chance I should have taken.”
It was struggle for Stephen to take his gaze from her generous curves. However, he eventually managed to meet her eyes with a questioning furrow on his brow. “Why?”
“I don’t want to live with regrets,” she replied simply, kicking her shoes off and pushing herself up onto her knees. “I don’t want to be left wondering what could have been.” She smiled as she took hold of the long skirt of her gown and swung one leg over Stephen’s thighs. “I’ll make sure you don’t regret it,” she informed him, settling into his lap.
Unsure what to do, Stephen lifted his hands only to leave them hovering at Allie’s back for a few moments. Then he placed them flat on the couch again. “I don’t want you to think that we can just pick things up where we left them,” he insisted, shaking his head. “Things have changed. Our lives have changed and we can’t…I mean….”
“Just one night, Stephen. That’s all I want. One night to feel what I should have experienced nine years ago.”
“I don’t…” he stammered, the war between the demands of his body and the warnings of his brain becoming harder to fight.
Allie knew that talking wasn’t going to get her any further. Instead, she reached behind her and began to pull the tiny zipper of her gown. The top of her dress instantly went slack and, as she slipped her arms out of the thin spaghetti straps, the red fabric pooled at her waist.
Her exposed breasts where directly in Stephen’s eye line. If he leaned forward just fractionally, he could taste the pink buds in their centers.
Over recent weeks, weight loss had meant she’d gone down a cup size, but Stephen’s admiring eyes, as wide as saucers, reassured her that they were still attractive. “You can do whatever you want with me,” she encouraged him, placing her right hand at the side of his head and stroking the backs of her fingers through the hair at his temple..
Although his face betrayed nothing of what her words had done to him, Allie felt the denim of his pants press rigidly against the crotch of her panties. His hands moved slowly to her legs, finding their way beneath the fabric, until he was touching her bare flesh. Then, Allie saw the change in his eyes, the shift from nervous nerdy guy to a man who knew exactly what he wanted and was going to get it.
Lunging forwards, Stephen placed his face between her breasts and delicately licked the inner curve to his left. The gentle teasing prompted Allie to jerk, rocking her hips against his. Both of her hands worked their way into the thick hair at the back of his head, twisting handfuls in encouragement. Stephen licked her other breast as he had the first, before placing his warm mouth on her areola and teasing the already erect nipple into an even harder peak.
Allie closed her eyes and tipped her head back, pushing her highly sensitive flesh further into his mouth. Stephen responded by grazing his teeth over the puckered skin and was rewarded with a strangled, “yes.”
Slowly releasing the warm pebble from his lips, Stephen leaned back once more. Looking at her flushed cheeks and ragged breath, he smiled. Continuing to massage the muscles of her thighs, he ran his tongue over his bottom lip. “Get up,” he ordered, in a manner vastly different from the nervy demeanor he displayed when he arrived.
Allie cocked her head to the side, assessing the change in him and intrigued by a facet of his personality she’d never seen before.
“Get up,” he repeated, sliding his hands out from beneath her dress. Lifting the fingers of his right hand to his face, he slid the heavy-framed spectacles from his nose, before uncaringly tossing them on the couch to his right.
Somewhat amused, Allie did as she was told, shuffling back down his legs. The toes of her right foot found the hard floor and she eased herself upright. Feeling suddenly uncomfortably exposed, she made a move to pull the bodice of her dress over her torso, but Stephen stopped her with a sharp, “No.”
Pushing himself from the couch, he stood before her. Near enough to touch her, but keeping his hands to himself. “Take it off,” he encouraged.
Lapping at her dry lips, Allie followed his direction. Gripping the dress, where it clung to her hips, she nudged it down, until gravity took over. She was left in nothing but a black, lace thong. Preempting his next instruction, she hooked her thumb in the underwear, but again, she was stopped by a forceful, “No.”
Stephen shook his head, and held out his open left hand towards her. “Leave the panties,” he said.
Allie had once briefly dated a man who enjoyed controlling their lovemaking. So the experience was not entirely new to her. However, she had never in her wildest dreams imagined Stephen as sexually dominant. He was always so mild-mannered and easygoing, sometimes even shy, as he had been when she first opened the door. To see him reveling in a very different side of his personality was both arousing and slightly scary. However, she took the hand offered to her.
Stephen grasped her fingers and tugged them towards him, placing them over the bulge in his jeans. Guiding her hand, he encouraged her to rub him through the thick fabric, until she no longer needed the tutorial. Removing his own hand, he began to shrug his jacket from his shoulder, tossing it to the floor. “Don’t stop,” he commanded, his fingers quickly moving to the small buttons of his shirt.
Stephen was much slimmer than Carl, his chest was not as muscular or as prominent, but it was sleek and toned. Each inch of skin he uncovered was completely smooth, until he reached his navel, where a thin trail of fluffy dark hair disappeared beneath the waistband of his pants.
The shirt was shucked in the same way the jacket had been. Stephen didn’t even bother to glance at where it landed, his eyes fixed instead on Allie’s eyes. He gave her an intense look of gravity that almost dared her to stop stimulating him with her hand.
She sensed the challenge and redoubled her efforts, cupping him firmly, before continuing a steady massage with the heel of her hand.
“Fuck,” Stephen muttered softly, overwhelmed by the way she gently squeezed his testicles. Sensing the shift in the balance of power, he purposefully pulled her hand away from him. “Come with me,” he said, keeping a grasp of her wrist and tugging her after him.
Allie thought that he was heading towards the bedroom, not stopping to question how he would know where it was. However, Stephen’s destination was much closer, as he took a left around the couch and came to a
stop. Turning her, he nudged her forwards, until the high back of the couch was pressed against her stomach.
“Do you really want this?” he asked, his hands finding the dip of her waist.
Her answer was instinctive. “Yes,” she responded, her voice unwavering in its certainty.
Stephen’s hands left her body and she heard the rustle of clothes, and then felt the rush of air that indicated he’d bent and then righted himself hurriedly. As his hands came back to her, so did the rest of his body. The thick coarse hair at his groin brushed against the top her right buttock. His rock hard manhood was squeezed between his belly and her lower back.
Allie sucked her lower lip between her teeth and bit down hard, as the anticipation of feeling his length move inside her became almost a physical pain.
Stephen seemed to sense her impatience and a low rumble of laughter rolled through him. His right hand meanwhile moved over her buttock and sought out the small piece of fabric between her legs. “Were these expensive?” he asked, his voice now thick with arousal.
The apparent non-sequitur caught Allie off guard. “Umm,” she mumbled. “I…err-” Any further attempts to answer the question ceased as a short rip was joined by a flood of cool air to her sex.
“I’ll buy you another pair,” Stephen mumbled, placing his chin on her shoulder and taking her earlobe roughly between his teeth. As he gripped it tightly and ran the tip of his tongue over its curve, he leaned forward. Pushing his upper body against Allie’s back, he bent her over the back of the couch.
Allie grasped the leather edge with both hands, as she felt Stephen’s member slip down the cheek of her bottom and eventually come to rest between her legs.
