The Story Exchange

The Story Exchange

I'm a writer, but since you're reading this story you know that already I guess. I write from home, contributing articles to magazines, etc. I was kinda forced into it when I was made redundant from my job in a high-tech company a few months ago, and was awarded a very generous redundancy package. I'd always wanted to write, and I had a head full of ideas for novels, so I sat down and worked out my finances. I figured I had enough money to live on for the next two years if I lived very frugally, but hopefully something would come along in the meantime, and I could perhaps earn enough with regular magazine articles to stretch that out to three years.

I was doing okay, working on two novels at the same time, (not highly recommended) and writing and contributing pieces to whoever would pay me. The building I lived in was normally pretty quiet, with most of the other tenants and owners out at work all day, which made it easy for me to concentrate on what I was doing. That was fine until one of the other apartments was sold, and the new owners decided extensive renovations were required.

All hell broke loose the day the builders moved in, and I found it impossible to concentrate on writing because of the constant banging, thumping, drilling and hammering. I was losing money because I couldn't concentrate on what I was supposed to be doing. Then a couple of days later I was just standing at my front room window, looking out at the builders vans on the street and wondering what I was going to do.

I was kinda mindlessly looking up and down the road and then an idea came to me. I hesitate to say it was brilliant idea, but it was an idea all the same and I thought it may prove to be the solution to my problems. There was a café across the street, right on the corner, just down the road about 40 yards away. Bingo!! The thought came to me, if J.K. Rowling could write the early Harry Potter books in her local café, why couldn't I maybe try something similar.

I grabbed my laptop, slid it into its bag, put my jacket on and headed for the cafe. I crossed the street, walked into the café, ordered a coffee and had a look around. It was very quiet with four or five tables and booths occupied almost exclusively by women. Older women, old friends obviously, some younger ones, stay at home mother's probably by the look of it. I sat there for a moment or two looking a bit out of place with the women taking casual sidelong glances at me. They weren't

interested

in me I thought, just curious.

I had another look around as I sipped my coffee, and noticed they had a funny little alcove type booth which looked as if it would suit my purpose. It was obviously just big enough for two people. I casually wandered over and had a look at it and even sat down at the table. Fucking hell I though this is just what I need.

The woman behind the counter who looked to be in her thirties, not much older than myself, was keeping a cautious eye on me, a bit suspicious as to what I was up to, so I got up and went over to her.

'Hi,' I said introducing myself, 'I live just across the street, so were kinda like neighbours,' I ventured trying to ingratiate myself with the 'neighbours,' comment. She smiled a beautiful smile and introduced herself too, but I could already tell what her name was by the name badge on her apron which read, 'Carol.' I explained that I was working from home but was finding it impossible to concentrate because of the building work going on. She nodded as I spoke and said she'd noticed the scaffolding being put up and the vans and trucks coming and going.

'Well, the thing is Carol, I work from home, but as I said, I'm finding it impossible to concentrate with the noise the builders are making. Do you think I could possibly work here from your café?' She looked surprised, and had that little suspicious look on her face which said how much is this going to cost me? Undeterred I continued, 'I'm sure you've heard of how J.K. Rowling wrote the Harry Potter books in her local café.' She nodded, and I went on, 'Well you have that nice, secluded table in the alcove over there which I think would be ideal for me to do the same if you're agreeable.' She looked at me again obviously thinking it over.

'Well you don't look like a trouble maker or an axe murderer, so I suppose it will be okay, but I'm trying to run a business here, so what's in it for me?' I had already thought this one through.

'Carol, I understand completely, so this is what I propose. You can bring me a large coffee latte at nine, ten, and eleven o'clock every day I am here, and I will order lunch here too. Is that sufficient to let me work away quietly in the corner there?' She thought for a moment, and held out her hand, which I shook to seal the bargain.

'One thing,' she said, 'we get very busy here at lunchtime, and a few singles come down from the office block further along the street. If it gets very busy I may occasionally have to squeeze somebody into that vacant place in your booth, but since you'll be eating too and not working at that point, I can't see it being too much of a problem. Sorry if that doesn't suit you, but I can't afford to turn another paying customer away. Is that a problem?' I thought for a moment.

'Okay, but women only. I'm not fond of big hairy guys smacking their lips, chewing with their mouths open, and farting as I work, or in this case, eat.' She laughed and agreed. So I went back to 'my booth,' set up my laptop, inserted my earbuds to filter out any distracting noise and started to re-read what I'd already written. With Vivaldi's Four Seasons playing quietly in my ears I set to work.

I worked studiously away until just after twelve noon. She'd brought me coffee as I requested at 10am and 11am, without saying anything, just clearing the old cup away and replacing it with a fresh cup. She brought me a menu, and I chose something for lunch. I ate in peace despite the café becoming quite noisy over the lunch period. They obviously weren't at capacity today because nobody came and sat beside me, and it was pretty much the same for the next two days.

On the fourth day, I was just clearing my laptop to one side before Carol or one of her helpers brought me my lunch. They were a bit later with it today, but I could see that they were extremely busy so I wasn't worried. It duly arrived and the food was very nice as usual, tasty, nutritional and filling, what more could I ask for? I was almost finished when Carol approached me.

'Sorry, I'm going to have to use the spare place at your table for a customer. I hope you don't mind too much, she's one of our regulars and a very nice lady. You might even like her,' she added smiling. '

A very nice lady

,' I thought. '

Sixty years old, wearing a chiffon scarf, make-up thirty years out of date, with blue hair..'

I was quite unprepared for the lovely young woman who squeezed herself into the other side of the table in the alcove.

'Hi,' she said looking quite embarrassed, 'They seem to be very busy today. I hope I'm not intruding, or invading your space.' She laughed, but it was a forced laugh stemming from her embarrassment.

I assured her that she wasn't disturbing me in the slightest. I was on a break I explained, so she wasn't interfering with my work at all, and I indicated the laptop I had pushed to one side by way of illustration.

Just then the server came with her food, and also took away my empty plate. I pulled my laptop back in front of me, and started working again, leaving her in peace to enjoy her food. I studiously kept my head low so as not to make her self-conscious about me watching her eat, and typed away at what I was doing.

Eventually she pushed the plate away and sipped her drink, and I looked up and caught her eye. She smiled, and I smiled back, too right I did, she was very attractive.

'You seem very busy,' she ventured, and I told her I had just been revising something I'd written earlier, so not really that busy. 'Working from a cafe is a bit different than working from home I would imagine,' she said, 'quite a few distractions to contend with.' I nodded.

'Like you, you mean?' I said cheekily, but smiling all the same. She blushed, looking embarrassed once again.

'I... I'm sorry, I didn't meant to disturb you,' she apologised, and I assured her there was nothing to apologise for, she hadn't disturbed me at all, and besides I was only joking, amusing myself at her expense. She seemed relieved then and smiled again. She had a lovely smile.

'I'm working here because my neighbour's flat is being renovated,' I explained, 'I'm trying to be a writer, and the noise destroys my concentration, so here I am a bit like J.K. Rowling working in my local café. I live just across the street you can see the scaffolding from here,' I volunteered.

'So, are you writing the next, "New York Times," bestseller or something entirely different?' I laughed, and she smiled. Just then the waitress came and took away the empty plate and utensils, clearing the table, momentarily halting the conversation.

'Not exactly,' I replied, 'this is more of a "bread and butter," short story to make some money. I am currently working on a novel, but this is for an internet website specialising in erotica.'

'Oooh,' she giggled, 'smutty stuff, how exciting. Would I have read any of your stories.' So, I told her the name of the site my stories were being published on, but she didn't know it, so I offered to read her the opening few paragraphs of the story I had just finished. She seemed quite excited at the prospect. Not sexually excited, but just excited in the normal way.

'One condition,' I said, and she looked at me, wide-eyed, and expectant. 'I'd like you to close your eyes while I'm reading so you can visualise it in your head.' She smiled at me, then nodded.

'Yes, that's no problem, that sounds fun,' she replied, and then looked quickly at her watch, 'just checking,' she explained, 'but it's okay I have time to spare, and I'm just dying with curiosity, I want to hear this so please go ahead.' I smiled back, her enthusiasm was refreshing. She closed her eyes, just waiting.

'Once upon a time,' I began, 'there was a beautiful young princess in a café,' then I couldn't help it, I started laughing, she opened her eyes, looking at me, puzzled but still smiling. 'Sorry,' I said, 'I was just teasing you, that's not how it starts at all, but looking at you with your eyes closed I couldn't resist. Let me start again, properly this time.' She was laughing as well, but we eventually calmed down before I began again.

I've been told by two or three women over the years that I have a nice voice, 'soothing,' and 'calming,' and 'expressive,' were some of the adjectives used to describe it. I often read my stories out loud so I was quite used to what I was doing for her now. I looked over the table at her sitting there, she looked very relaxed, so I began to read.

I read the first three or four paragraphs, leading her into the story, setting the scene and describing the young woman who was the central protagonist of my story. How she looked, how tall she was, what kind of figure, etc, and just as I was beginning to hint at matters sexual, I stopped.

'How does that sound to you?' I asked. She opened her eyes.

'Why did you stop? I was really enjoying that,' she protested. 'Read me some more please,' she pleaded.' I smiled, it seems she liked what I was reading to her, so I agreed to carry on for 'just a little bit more,' and she thanked me then closed her eyes again.

The first part I had read was just the introduction to set the scene and described my heroine, but now we were getting to the real nitty gritty, it was after all an erotic story. I kept my voice low and confidential, drawing her in, and although looking quite relaxed I could see she was listening intently.

As the scenes grew progressively more erotic, it also became more descriptive of the seduction, of her surrender with detailed descriptions of her breasts, nipples and pussy. Then it was all about her feelings and sensations as she was touched and aroused, kissed, fondled. I described how she positioned herself before she opened her legs in surrender to expose her wet pussy, and how she felt as the cock slid into her and she was finally taken to a wonderful and all powerful orgasm.

I looked over at my lovely young dining companion, and I noticed her cheeks were slightly flushed. Was she getting turned on I wondered, and she was breathing noticeably more rapidly than before. I continued with my story, and now I could see the tell-tale signs of arousal quite clearly.

I realised she was being seduced by my voice and story, and I was delighted with her reaction. After all, that's what erotica is supposed to do. It's designed to make guys hard and women wet, to bring them up to the boiling point by making them horny. What they do after that is up to them. We all know what they do of course, they either masturbate during or after reading, that's what writers are aiming for, and that's why they are reading it in the first place. It's like we provide the ammunition, and it's up to you to take aim and fire the bullets.

As I read the final words, she was breathing heavily, and her face was most definitely flushed. She kept her eyes closed for long moments after I stopped reading, obviously trying to get herself under control. I said nothing, just left her to her come down, and get her breathing back to normal again. The mere fact that she still had her eyes closed was an admission on her part, a shared sexual moment between us telling me that I had gotten her aroused with my story. Eventually she opened her eyes, and looked down rather than at me. She was embarrassed by her arousal, I could tell.

'Damn!' she exclaimed, 'that was hot.' I looked at her, hoping she'd say more, but no.

'Well, the purpose of erotica is to arouse,' I said gently. 'I think in your case it worked very, very well. Did you like the story?' She didn't react for a moment, a little reticent to admit the obvious.

'I... I loved it. You have a wonderfully dirty mind,' she finally admitted with a shy smile, trying to make a joke of it.

'Yes, I know, which is why I write this stuff. I enjoy writing it, and I like to think my readers enjoy reading it too, but until now, I've never known the exact effect it may have on my readers. Now I know, and it's a wonderful feeling to know I can excite a woman just with the power of my words. Thank you so much for listening,' I concluded.

'It wasn't just the words,' she tried to explain, 'it was the sound of your voice too, and being sat just across the table from you. I can't explain it any better, but it just got through to me,' she admitted, and then looked at her watch again. 'Oh damn, I'm sorry I'm going to have to run. Work beckons and I have to go. Will you be here tomorrow as well?' she asked, and I told her I would.

'I'd like to hear more if you don't mind sharing your table with me again?' she declared as she stood up to leave. I told her I'd look forward to seeing her tomorrow. She thanked me again, smiled and was gone. I found it hard to get back to my work, and found myself thinking, daydreaming about her... who? Why hadn't I asked what her name was? I made a mental note to introduce myself, and ask her name if she actually came back tomorrow as she said she would.

'Was your enforced lunch companion bearable then?' asked Carol when she brought me my next scheduled cup of coffee at 2pm. I assured her that the young lady was delightful company and thanked Carol for placing her at my table, adding that she was maybe coming back the next day to have lunch with me again.

'Ooh,' laughed Carol, 'do I detect romance in the air?' I laughed and assured her there was no chance of that, after all I hardly knew the woman. I didn't even know her name, it was just that I found her easy to talk to and vice versa. She was just very pleasant company. Carol didn't believe me for an instant. 'We'll see,' was all she said as she left me to my writing.

The next day, after I had been working all morning and making good progress, I decided it was time to stop for a break and order lunch. As usual I cleared away my laptop to one side of the table to make room for the food. It was also a precautionary measure because laptops don't take too kindly to fluids being spilled on the keyboard. I had done that once a few years ago, and spilled a mug of tea over the keys.

It didn't turn out well, although my first instinct to immediately turn it upside down to drain the tea onto the floor helped. I left it to dry out and it worked okay when I switched it back on, but I lost a few things when I had to return it to factory settings. Nothing I couldn't recover since I had most of it saved on an external hard drive anyway, but I promised myself I would never let that happen again.

I had no sooner cleared away my stuff, when Carol came to take my order, and as she walked away to the kitchen with my order my new female friend arrived, gave me a little wave and a smile as she ordered her food at the counter. It gave me a chance to have a better look at her. She was about five foot six or seven, long, straight, dark hair spilling over her shoulders. Slim, but not skinny with a nice shapely figure, great legs which I could see courtesy of her shortish skirt, just above knee length. Nice shape, with trim ankles, wearing black leather shoes with low heels, smart but definitely 'office,' wear. A black shoulder bag matching her shoes hung from her shoulder. She looked very smart and efficient, a typical young woman straight from the office on her lunch break.

After she gave Carol her order, she turned to me and gestured towards my table as if to say, 'May I?' I smiled and nodded, and she came over to me then and squeezed herself into the booth across the table from me.

'Are you sure this is okay?' she queried, and I assured her I had been looking forward to seeing her again. She smiled again and I returned her smile. 'I was thinking about your story last night, and it inspired me to try and write one of my own. Maybe after lunch I'll read you a bit of it if you'd care to listen,' she suggested. I agreed, firstly because it's always nice to hear or read other people's stories, but she probably wrote something from her own experience and it would give me an insight into what she liked sexually.

I have to admit my sex life had ground to a halt over the last few months, and now here was this beautiful woman interested in me, in my writing and stories, and coming back at me with stories of her own, and erotic ones at that. This could be very promising I was thinking, and I knew I'd like to get to know her better, but it was whether she wanted to know

me

better that counted. I had a sneaking suspicion she might, and I didn't see any rings on her fingers, but I'm quite a modest guy and I always work on the don't count those damned chickens before they hatch principle.

We waited until our food was served, and chatted away just fine. First things first, so I told her my name and asked for hers.

'Marti,' she said, 'short for Martina. I was named after my aunt, my mum's sister.' So, that was that, a nice name and I liked it I declared. She kinda screwed her face up a little bit. 'I used to get called, "Smarty Marti," at school. It used to annoy me, but that was a few years ago now.'

We continued to chat and find out about each other with the main thing being we were both single, but had both been in long term relationships. Nothing for either of us except casual and infrequent dating for the last year or so. I was thirty one, she was twenty eight, so not too big an age gap either, things seemed to be clicking into place.