Thank you to everyone for the feedback and votes on my first submission to Literotica, "Forget the Rain". I appreciate any feedback I get and try to answer all that I can. Thanks also to istanbulnoir for his editing assistance on the last story. Comments (helpful ones please) are always welcome and don't forget to vote!
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I finger the square of notebook paper and smear some of the ink across the numbers written there. I'm looking at the numbers but I'm not really seeing them. I have no real reason to call the number and make things that much worse on myself. But at the same time,
I find myself wondering how long it will be before I give in and dial, taking away my loneliness along with every ounce of dignity I had left.
Of course, I was going to call. I could fight an inner battle with myself all I liked and it would ultimately end in only one outcome.
I pick up the phone and curse at myself for even lifting my finger to touch the keypad. Every tone brings just a bit more of a tear to my eye. I hate doing this, but I can't stop either. It's weak and all I ever need all at the same time.
"I knew you'd call me." His low voice announces in greeting.
"Shut up. God, I hate you." I growl back.
"Nice, Rae. Real nice." He was laughing at me.
"Does the offer still stand or what?" I cut right to the chase. I don't want to mess around with this any more than necessary.
"Absolutely. You know I'll always cater to you in that department." I can almost taste his cologne and feel his short salt and pepper hair under my fingers. Damn him.
I give him directions to the seedy motel that I've rented for the night and hang up without saying goodbye. I don't have to say goodbye to Greg or even be nice to him. He just wants to fuck me and I just want to fuck him.
Greg knows he can do this to me and he doesn't care one bit how it hurts me. He's not entirely at fault. I know I hold the blame as well for even degrading myself by using him this way.
Greg and I had been engaged to be married at one point in time but he kicked me out of his house after one good, long argument that started with his infidelity and somehow ended up with me throwing my engagement ring in the sewer and moving back in with my parents.
I hated him more for that than anything else. I probably could have lived with the thought of him screwing 18 year-old girls, but kicking me out without a penny to my name and making me move back in with the mother and father that I hate at the age of 30 years old made me want to pitch him head first off a cliff.
What brought me to this sick point in my life was the fact that I saw him two days before this and he slipped his new phone number into my bra just as he handed the waiter his credit card to pay my check.
Greg told me in no uncertain terms that he wanted to pound me into the mattress and fill me so full that I would taste it for days on my tongue.
Greg knew I wasn't with anyone and hadn't been since he threw me out. He used it to his advantage and the more I thought about my former lover and the way he used to make me scream for hours, the more I didn't care about the reasons why we were no longer a couple.
I could use some of what only he could give me and though I despised him, his cock never did anything to deserve my neglect. Right? Pathetic.
I pace back and forth with memories flooding my brain of Greg and me. Four years together. Four long years of him and me together, loving, laughing, fighting, fucking, making love, kissing; just everything.
I am jerked from my woolgathering when a knock resonates through the dusty room. I open it up and swallow the boulder sized lump in my throat at the sight of him.
At 45 years of age, my ex fiance towers above my 5'5 frame by almost a full foot. He's wearing just a white tee shirt and black pajama pants that hug his hips in the most sinful way. I can't stop looking at the crotch of them, wondering how hard his seven inches is behind them, how fast he can make me beg for him, how deep he can fill me with that monster that hangs between his thighs.
