Rebound - Sex Stories

Rebound

... walked to her door, and when she was safely inside blinked the porch light to let Shelly know it was okay to drive away. The next morning there was a text message on Kay’s phone: “shelly gave me ur number can we talk – jim” “You little bitch, Shelly,” she grumbled. She tossed the phone on the bed and got ready for her shower. Her phone rang at the laundromat. “Shelly! Well, well, well. How very nice of you to call. You do realize I’m going to smack the shit out of you, don’t you?” “What did I do now?” “You gave the bartender my number!” “Obviously, you weren’t going to do it.” “No, I wasn’t! Dammit, why do I hang out with you?” “Because you know I’m the one person in the world who will always love you. I’m here for you no matter what.” “If you love me so much, why are you trying to mess with my sex life?” “You don’t have a sex life! That’s part of your problem!” “Just because I don’t have one right now doesn’t mean I have a problem!” After an awkward silence Shelly said, “Jim called you?” “He sent me a text.” “It’s a start.” “I’m not like you, Shelly! I don’t screw bartenders!” “You eat lunch, don’t you? Try that, and see where it goes.” Kay stuffed her phone in her pocket and finished folding towels. She was putting the last of her clean clothes away at home when she got another text: “3 messages are creepy so ill stop now wud u like to chat – jim” “Humph,” she muttered. After dinner that night she picked up her phone to make a call to her parents and saw Jim’s last text. ...

... “You’re right. Stopping at two texts is just enough to not be a creepy stalker.” She made her call and tried to put him out of her mind. Sunday morning dawned fresh and clear, a perfect early summer day. Kay took her coffee mug onto her miniature balcony so the breeze could help dry her curly blond hair. Good day for a hike. She ate a light breakfast and dressed in a sports bra, practical panties, tee, and shorts and padded around her tiny place packing a few essentials into a day pack. High socks, favorite walking boots, hair in an unruly ponytail through a baseball cap, and she was off. She was about a mile along the trail in the river hills when she heard someone approaching from behind. The parking lot below had been deserted. She turned and saw a man running toward her. “Hey!” he called. “Jim? What are you doing here?” “Running,” he puffed as he flew past. He disappeared around a bend in the trail. She caught up to him a half hour later, sitting on a rock in the shade. “Hello again.” He raised a half-empty water bottle in salute. “Surprised to see you here.” “Are you? Shelly didn’t put you up to this?” “Shelly?” “My so-called friend who gave you my number.” “Oh, brunette, vodka gimlet. No, I use this trail a lot if the weather’s nice. It’s two miles from the parking lot to here. I run, die on this rock for a while, and walk back down. I’m not following you. When you didn’t text me back I got the hint.” She sat on a rock nearby and opened her own bottle of water from her ...