Author's Note: This story was uploaded previously under a different pen name I have had. Some things are altered, but ultimately, the story remains the same.
*****
I am a simple man motivated by simple pleasures. While some people need to "have it all," I find an easy, modest life to be more enjoyable. My job as a romance novelist, poet, and freelance writer and editor allows me to cover my living expenses and have a decent amount of savings.
A man writing and reading romance is an alien concept to some. This could be because of how the books are marketed, or it could be how men are socialized. Whatever the reason, I find romance writing to be fulfilling, and challenging in some respects. Writing about love forces me to connect with women and understand their wants, needs, and desires.
Though in my opinion, that's one of the perks of being a romance writer. I've always enjoyed interacting with women and learning about the things they like in men, the things they want in men, and the things they find irresistible. When women discover I write love stories, it does intrigue them.
Naturally, that led to me dating some, though I was far from being a Casanova. For one, the ideal man according to women is over six feet tall, has huge muscles, and a six-figure salary. I am a black man standing at an average 5'9," am more on the skinny side, and even though I make decent money, I'm nowhere near the six-figure mark. Since I didn't measure up, I decided to focus on writing for a few years in and after college. Now, in my twenties, I was single and ready to date once more.
However, a large number of the women whom I interacted with were taken, mostly with boyfriends, though some were married. I remember a friend lamenting that all the most beautiful women were taken. I dismissed his statement at first, but soon, I found his statement to be true. Even many of my female friends found boyfriends or husbands. It pained me to approach a beautiful woman and establish rapport, only for her to say she had a boyfriend, or for me to notice a wedding ring, or seeing a gorgeous woman on the arms of someone else.
The moral side of me told me to leave those women alone, but I couldn't lie, there was a part of me which wanted to seduce a taken woman. Some of my deepest, darkest fantasies involved having a passionate liaison with a woman who was already spoken for. Most of the taken women I've encountered were all beautiful, and, as they say, the forbidden fruit is always the most tempting. Of course, I never thought I would attempt to fulfill that fantasy.
I spoke with a friend who dated taken women before, and he told me that just because a woman is taken doesn't mean she's happy. Sometimes the guy may not satisfy her physically, he may be unavailable in some way, or she may "love him" but not be "in love with him." Also, the man may have cheated on her, and she's looking to get back at him. In his own words, "Hey, she's going to cheat anyway. May as well be with you." He added that taken women are some of the best lovers you will ever have.
His words resonated in my head for weeks on end. Was it possible that many of the women I interacted with liked me and wanted me to pursue them? Could it be true that some of those women were with those men just out of convenience? Were they being satisfied? Did some of them think about having affairs also?
Little did I know I would soon gain firsthand knowledge as to why some women choose to stray from their relationships.
One Tuesday morning in the middle of spring, I woke up, did my usual writing, then decided to go grocery shopping for a few things. There were a few grocery stores in the city where I lived, but some of the better ones were located in the suburbs, so I went out there on occasion.
After I finished shopping, I decided to get some lunch at one of the sandwich shops near the store. As I parked my car, I saw a blonde-haired woman wearing workout clothes jogging up to the store. Immediately upon seeing her, my eyes widened.
Despite wearing clothes suited for a workout, the woman's sex appeal was evident. Her sweatshirt did little to hide her buxom frame. Her gray leggings were cut at the knees, showing a pair of tanned and toned curves. Her blonde hair came down to the upper part of her back, going from straight at the top to curly on the bottom. I stared at the woman as she walked inside, her shapely ass swaying ever so slightly as she entered the sandwich place.
Steeling myself to approach her, I got out of my car and entered the restaurant.
I am a big proponent of being honest and direct with women. Small talk is okay, but I don't like engaging in large amounts of it. Not only that, but I rarely ended up being with a woman by taking things slowly. Plus, I've found that even though being directed leads to rejection sometimes, being straightforward tends to turn some women on.
While I have no issues with approaching women, I had to admit, this woman's beauty and sexiness did make me somewhat nervous. Still, I was able to give her a warm hello as I stood in line behind her. The woman returned my greeting, a gentle smile on her face. My heart hammered in my chest as I initiated conversation with her.
"How are you today, miss?" I said, noticing her eyes were an icy blue which almost seemed to glitter. I swallowed hard as I looked at them.
"I'm great," she said. "I just walked my daughter to school, then went for a jog, then figured I'd stop and get something to eat. How are you?"
"I'm doing well, also. Just ran some errands of my own" I paused for a moment, then said, "Honestly, if you hadn't told me so, I would never have guessed you were a mother. You're in great shape, if I may say so."
The woman's smile broadened and I heard her laugh. "Thank you very much. I do work out a lot. I like to look good, and I have to set a good example for my little girl. She's only six, but I have to model good behavior for her, right? How about you? Do you have any children?"
"Oh, no. Not yet." I shook my head. "I'd like some in the future, but not right now. I'm only in my twenties, after all."
"Really?" She paused, and looked me up and down. "You seem a little older than that."
"A lot of people say I'm mature for my age." She laughed and told me she could see that. I decided that now was the time to introduce myself. "Listen, my name is Martin, and you are one of the sexiest women I've ever laid eyes on. I like those gray pants you're wearing, they show off those amazing, toned calves of yours. How often do you run?"
The woman's face began to turn red. "Oh, I run a lot. A few miles every day. Wow Martin, you sure are forward."
I shrugged. "I prefer to be upfront with a woman. If I find a woman sexually attractive, I have no issue with letting her know that. By the way, what did you say your name was?"
"Oh, right." I could tell
she
was nervous now. "I'm Rachel."
"Rachel ... it suits you. Very beautiful name for a beautiful woman. It's a pleasure to meet you." I extended my hand, which she clasped. I took hers and gave it a light kiss, which made her shudder.
"Mind if I join you for lunch?"
"Well ... okay. That's fine."
"Hey, there's no need to be nervous. We're just having lunch, right?"
She nodded. We went to the counter and ordered some food and drinks, then took our seats at a table at one of the corners of the eatery. I found it hard to believe that a woman as beautiful as her would be tense around any man. Surely this buxom, blonde, blue-eyed beauty would get approached by men all the time? Yet, from the blush on her face, and even the speed at which her chest rose and fell, she was nervous as could be.
To lighten the mood, I made some small talk, mostly about the weather and current events as we ate. She particpated in the conversation, but not to the extent I expected. Still, she appeared to be having a good time with me.
