There was something that had driven him to come, but he didn't want to analyze it. But it lingered in his mind, in the back, refusing to stay completely hidden. There was something about Samantha, that he couldn't put his finger on. And oh, how much had he wanted to lay his fingers, along with other parts of his body, on her?
Well, a lot.
*The Backstory*
Before I go any further with this hot little tale of raw sex and emotion, I'll introduce myself. I am Samantha or Sam, as my friends call me. But please be advised that certain identifying details in this hot little tale of raw sex and emotion (And yes, I purposely repeated that line. I'm trying to keep your attention here.) have been changed to protect the innocent...or the guilty.
I'm not going to tell you what I look like, or what sexual positions I like or what I like to do to a guy to make him scream my name in ecstasy.
No, not yet. Because you're going to put yourself in my shoes. (Sorry guys, this includes you. Just deal, okay?)
You may think you don't know me, but you do. You know someone like me. Maybe your best friend or your girlfriend, or maybe it's you! Basically, as long as humans exist, we will get hurt, we will fuck-up and hopefully we will also makeup. Here's a little story about that.
The situation was this...
He suddenly began ignoring me. There was no warning, explanation, or answer to my messages. I responded by "un-friending" him, which is the technological way to give someone the finger, the fuck-off, or to say "We're Not Gonna Take It ANYMORE!!!"
And I felt GREAT about it!
...For about a day and a half. I soon felt that maybe I had over-reacted....just a little bit, maybe? Or a lot, maybe? I wasn't sure what my next step should be. The problem was that I told him I'd never speak to him again. And that sort of complicates things....a little bit, maybe?
So I got some "guy advice" from two my dudes. And I received two very different, but equally supportive opinions. (smile).
Marcus: I'm sorry hon. If you feel that way you could send him a message and then give him time to think about it.
Stretch: Hell, Samantha even if this guy was going through something...How long does it take to say, "Hey, got your messages. Can't talk right now?" I just did it and it took me 3 seconds!
See what I mean? After much thought, and drawing from my Masters Degree in Overanalyzation, I finally decided. Somehow, I thought that this person's friendship was worth one more try. I at least wanted to apologize.
In any case, the message had to be creative, and something that would compel him to read it. I had no way of even knowing if he was actually reading my messages. Previously, when things were going well, I had promised to write a story for him. It suddenly I had a light bulb moment!
"What if I combined the apology with the story?"
And that's what I did.
*The Story*
Did you hear the one about the girl who was really sensitive and totally over-reacted and totally feels bad and totally wants to "make-up"?
Samantha said to Jared.
He didn't react, initially. But his eyes narrowed and his jaw tightened with irritation.
She had asked him to meet at her room in The Literotica Hotel, to let her talk to him. He wasn't sure why he agreed. He was already regretting it...a little.
There was something that had driven him to come, but he didn't want to analyze it. But it lingered in his mind, in the back, refusing to stay completely hidden. There was something about Samantha, that he couldn't put his finger on. And oh, how much had he wanted to lay his fingers, along with other parts of his body, on her? Well, a lot.
Maybe it was just pure curiosity at meeting her finally that had driven him here. No, not finally. Not like he had been longing to meet her, or anything.
She greeted him with a warm smile and clasped her hands in front of her, pushing the twin scoops of her cleavage forward. Her mocha skin glowed in the dim light of the casually luxurious room. Her brown eyes communicated a blazing warmth as they watched him with bold intent.
"At the risk, of seeming crazier than you already think I am," she said, pausing for effect. "I needed you to know that...I feel different about things now. And while my feelings were valid, I feel that I did jump the gun a bit and over-reacted."
His jaw tightened further still. He was a stubborn one, she thought. They were more alike than she had realized - two stubborn, extremely "passionate" people. Two fiery, determined personalities, warm enough to consume the space around themselves and others. This heat had a side-effect of causing some blistering, some hurt feelings that were not intended. She gave him a small smile, risking irritating him further.
She felt compelled to touch him, to just know what his skin felt like. She slid a finger slowly, softly down his nose, to his lips. She had to reach up, even in her three-inch high-heels because he was significantly taller than her. She took-in and admired his broad shoulders, finding him even more attractive in person than she had imagined.
Jared didn't have time for this. He had shit going on in his life. She ended things - she could deal with the consequences. He'd already moved on. It hadn't been that serious anyway. What was the point? He had thought she would just be fun, interesting. Not so serious about things.
She took a deep breath.
"I was in a very sensitive place," she said, softly. "My message to you reads harsher than I intended."
