Taken, Again. - Sex Stories

Taken, Again.

This is sort of the sequel to “More Than a Latte” by Elude. It makes more sense if you read it first, and you get to know the characters. I stared at the business card for a long time. My hands were shaking so badly I could barely tuck it into the compartment in my wallet that already bulged with gift and credit cards. I knew I was blushing, and knowing that others in the coffee shop were noticing what had happened made it even worse. I pictured the woman striding confidently from the washroom and tossing the card on the table we had shared as if it meant nothing at all. Worse, I pictured myself stumbling out after her, still putting my clothes back on properly then slinking back to the table. It took a long time to calm down and stop shaking. When I opened the wallet at home, my heart was practically beating from my chest. I took the card, “Stephanie” it said, and tucked it carefully behind my jewelry box. I had no idea how long it would stay there. A day? A month? An hour? Sleep that night was difficult. I thrashed and rolled around the bed tortured by dreams of Steff, her fingers, the touching, the wetness. Finally sometime in the middle of the night, I couldn't take it any longer. I raised my knees tenting the sheets and slid my hand down my tummy. I was far wetter then I suspected. I plunged my finger inside and started to pump it in and out as my other hand fondled my nipple. It only took a few moments to bring myself to a blinding orgasm. It wasn't a little one; it ...

... wracked me from my toes to the tips of my fingers. When it ended, it didn't help as much as I hoped. It wasn't until I stuffed the pillow between my legs and pulled it up tight against myself that I finally found some peace and drifted off to a calmer sleep. In the next few days, the confusing terror of the whole thing sank in. I had always felt curious, but this was different. It wasn't soft and loving. It was hard and wanton. It was the way that I gave myself to her almost like I would to a man that bothered me the most. It hadn't been what I suspected. It wasn't what I pictured, and it burned into my heart and my brain. Eventually I decided it was far more than simply sex. I was too hungry for it, and not for any woman but hungry for her sex. So the card sat there for a week, then another... and now I was at my computer screen, dumbstruck, staring at my screen, at the answer to the message I had finally sent to her. "Sorry I was away. Allison." was all it said. Moments before, when I saw the message I had finally screwed up my courage to write, my heart had begun to pound inside my chest like a captive animal's. My tummy had flipped and it had felt as hollow as if I hadn't eaten for a month. Now, having read the simple sentence, there was a worse emptiness and an embarrassment casting a sickening pall over it all. Waiting had seemed the thing to do, but now it felt utterly stupid. I asked to meet, but she simply told me she was away. "Who am I kidding? Of course she's moved ...