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Introduction:

Where's she taking me? or is it I taking her???
‘Half true-half fantasy’ kind of story. It starts slow but gets hotter as the story moves on. Since most of the details are true, you’ll find some paragraphs of description, conversations, and real life effects. I did rush it on for the convenience of my readers when the characters are talking on the phone. I hope you’ll like the story. I’m eagerly waiting for your feedback. Enjoy! ~ Erotica Lover...........................

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It all happened because of two character flaws in me. If I were not late for the conference, I would not meet her and if I were not too talkative, she might not be attracted to me, at least not as much as she did. The chance meeting with her reminded me of Hardy’s thesis of imminent will or overpowering role of fate in our lives. It was absolutely a chance meeting between two strangers, apparently for no reason and surely without any intended initiative. It was just that I left my hotel for the conference in the nick of time and half way down the road, my old, beautiful, sweetheart, one and only Volkswagen Beetle broke down. I did not know what happened with her. She just stopped right in the middle of the road. I tried hard to get it to work but failed. Since the time was not favoring me, I did not want to be a mechanic with my new tweed suit on, so I thought better of it. Somehow, I pulled it to the roadside, locked it, and stood by the road looking for a ride. There was no cab in view and I was sweating profusely, not because of the sun that was shining pretty bright on me, but because of the thought of harsh stares on me when I would enter the conference room late.

From far, I saw a car coming towards me. When it got nearer, it was my favorite one, Toyota Camry. I don’t know why I love this car but I do and I don’t think it should be termed as cheating on my beautiful Beety. I raised my hand towards the driver for a lift and fortunately, the car stopped a few strides ahead. Rushing towards it, I reached the driver’s side and saw the most beautiful pair of eyes looking at me.

Even her voice was melodious when she asked, “What can I do for you?”

I managed to tell her the whole story in the shortest possible time and fortunately she agreed to give me lift.

Sitting on the passenger seat, I extended my hand saying, “It’s James ... James Miller.”

It seems she had to think hard before giving me her hand (no pun intended! :).

“I’m Jane,” she said.

Her hand was soft as velvet. I wanted to keep it in mine for long but I thought better of it.

“Thank you so much Jane. If you didn’t stop, I’d have surely been late for the conference. I’m going to be the second speaker and you can imagine very well what would happen if they call on me and I was not there. I hope I hadn’t bothered you too much?” I asked her after explaining to her the situation in one breath.

Her eyes were focused on the road while she said, “No, not at all. I was actually going down the same way. So it’s perfectly fine for me.”

I was continuously looking into her eyes. They fascinated me as the moon fascinates a snake. Probably she wanted to divert my attention from her face when she asked me about the nature of conference I was attending. Her question triggered my talkative bit, not only because I loved my work that I sure did. Most importantly, I wanted to talk with her as much as I could.

“I’m a researcher, working in a think tank on human security issues, and I’m here to participate in a conference on challenges to human security,” I told her without looking away for a second. This was just tip of the iceberg and I went on telling her my educational background, my deep interest in the field of research and in human security issues.

It went on and on. It was such a wonderful experience of observing her facial expressions while I was telling her my accomplishments. There is nothing in admitting that I just wanted to talk with her about anything. I talked non-stop until we reached the hotel. I didn’t want to go into that dry conference.

“Well, what do you do Jane?”

I saw that surprised look in her eyes as if asking me, “Aren’t you getting late for the conference?”

But she told me that she was a mother of two kids and worked with her father in his car showroom. I wanted to be right there with her, yet I knew I had to leave. My stream of consciousness was just going on single track, thinking how to see her again. Just before getting off the car, I had an idea.

“It is very nice of you Jane. If you didn’t pick me up from there, I know I wouldn’t be able to make it to this conference. I really feel obliged and I would want you to have lunch with me. Please don’t say no. It’d be nothing more than lunch. Since I don’t know anyone in this city, I’d really be grateful if you could spend some time with this lonely soul,” I tried to do the best I could with language, words and facial expressions for her to know I really wanted her company.

Her face and eyes were showing everything that she was thinking right at that moment. Sometimes, it seemed she was going to say ‘no’ and at times, she seemed convinced. In just a few moments, I saw multiple expressions on her face.

“I’m flattered that you asked James, but ...”

I knew what she was going to say and I interrupted her in the most polite manner I could come up with.

“Please don’t say no. I promise you a very nice lunch and interesting time with a total gentleman that I am.” And I knew that did it.

She said, “OK, I’d be here at 12:30 but I’ll have to go back to pick up my kid from school at 2:45.”

It seemed I was flying in the air, and I could pluck any star I wanted to right at that moment.

“Thank you so much Jane. It will be a great honor for me to host you at lunch.”

I know I couldn’t hold my excitement and that put a big smile on Jane’s lovely face. She asked me to give her my Beety’s keys and she’d get it fixed at her father’s workshop. I happily did that, we exchanged numbers, shook hands, and she drove on.

All through the conference, I was physically very much there but my mind was talking with Jane non-stop. She seemed a very nice girl who maintained herself so well. Nails were perfectly manicured, makeup was tastefully applied, and dark brown hair had been curled and the tresses fell past her shoulders.

“I think she’d be in her mid 20s or late 20s at the most, but she’s as innocent as a baby girl. What will you talk with her about at lunch? ... Well, I think most likely about cars, because she wouldn’t be much interested in politics. Or what about fashion? But I don’t think she’d care much about it. Didn’t you see how simple she was! I think simplicity is ...”

I was talking with myself when the chairman of the first session at the conference invited me to present my topic and a participant on my right poked his elbow in my rib to awake me from my day dreaming. I didn’t really know what I said in the conference and when the session ended for lunch break, I went to the organizer of the conference and told her I wasn’t feeling well and I might skip the next session. She gave me the dirtiest possible looks and then nodded. I almost ran to the hotel gate and paced up and down with my hands rubbing the salt out of them.

It was past 12:30 and I started feeling that she wouldn’t come. I wanted to call her but refrained myself from doing so. My heart said she’d be here in any moment and I wanted her here without any further pressure but my mind was saying I shouldn’t take a chance. As this battle was going on, I saw that beloved Camry coming. I had this instant and big smile on my face. I briskly reached the parking area, got to her car and opened the car door for her to come out.

“Hello again, thanks for this royal greeting James,” she smirked coming out of the car.

I extended my hand to her. I just had to feel the softness of her hand again.

So taking her extended hand in mine, I replied, “You’re most welcome, your highness. I feel elated with the honor that you so generously bestowed upon me with your gracious company.”

In response, I got the most beautiful smile ever, and it seemed she was finding words to compete but then she just smilingly said, “you really know how to please a girl’s heart.”

My naughty self came up again as I responded with a playful smile, “Won’t you like to know what other parts of a girl I really know how to please?”

The blush on her pinkie cheeks was worth-seeing. I didn’t want to scare her off so without taking this mischievous moment on, I motioned towards the restaurant.

It was an intense moment. We just met and talked for only half an hour or so in the car and now we were here in this beautiful romantic environment of the posh restaurant.

There was a momentary silence until I thought to break the ice and asked her, “What exactly you do at your father’s car showroom?”

This question started off our wonderful luncheon with her telling me all about her work there from managing books to marketing and importing cars to reaching clients. It naturally led to a bit more personal life of hers as she told me how difficult it was to raise two young boys of 6 and 4 as a single mother, and to the death of her husband in Iraq two years ago. It was painful seeing her teary eyes while she was telling me how nice and understanding her husband was and how she despised the immoral and unjust Iraq war that Bush started for benefiting US oil mafia and that killed so many precious lives of Americans and Iraqis.

The discussion took interesting turns from politics to religion, modern-day societies, relationships, different lifestyles, and then again to cars. We were so engrossed in our conversation that we didn’t realize it was already 2:30. We both didn’t seem to want to leave the table just yet. But I knew she had to go and try I might, she wouldn’t stop.

After saying goodbye pleasantries, I asked her, “You know I’ll be here for two more days. Will you mind it terribly if I called you in the evening after I reach my hotel.”

She pondered on it for a while and then said while walking to her car, “Sure , I enjoyed talking with you today James. In fact, after a long time I felt being myself. I’ve almost forgot how beautiful and interesting conversations could be.”

I opened the car door for her and before getting in, Jane presented her hand. I looked down at the hand, then into her eyes and again at her hand, and taking it in mine I looked into her eyes once again and told her how happy she made me just with her presence and how I looked forward to seeing her more. It seemed she was not sure about meeting again but she smiled that beautiful smile and nodded.

I waved her while she drove to the exit gate of hotel when she suddenly stopped, lowered down the window, turned her head back towards me and said, “Your car is ready at my showroom. You can pick it up from there whenever you get free from here. Good bye James.”

At that very moment, I realized why people hated goodbyes but a smile crept up my lips thinking that Jane accepted my request of calling her in the evening. After the last session of the conference, I took a cab to Jane’s car showroom with a hope to see her again but alas, she was not there. I came to know that she would usually get off at 5 or 5:30 and I just missed her by 10 minutes. I took the keys and drove straight to the hotel. All the way, I was thinking about Jane, how simple yet elegant she was; so good in developing conversations and so rational in analyzing very complex things whether they were related to politics, religion, society or business world and political economy. I did not find any stereotypical views in her discussion. I realized how easy it was to talk with her. Just being with her was a great pleasure.

I wanted to call her as soon as I entered my hotel room but I wanted to take shower first and get fresh before we start our evening meeting on phone. Taking shower was really a good idea as I felt myself getting re-energized. Thinking about her during shower gave me this big hard on and I realized that it was the first time I was thinking about her sexually. I did not know her age, yet she had a great body for a mother of two. As much as I could see her figure under her very professional attire, I could guess she had handful of breasts that seemed perky enough to get even a dead man’s mouth watery. Standing at around 5’6” or 5’ 7”, she had an athletic figure with flat stomach, long legs smooth and strong, and a perfectly round ass. Above all, she had very dreamy, deep brown eyes – a metaphor for deep sea with all its ebb and flow. I wondered for a brief moment whether she was also curious about me so much or whether she was also waiting to talk with me as eagerly as I did. I might get to know it soon.

By now, it was around 7 pm and I thought to give her a little more time with her kids. I laid down on the bed naked and continued stroking my very hard cock thinking about her more. I wanted her to be here with me, snuggling and cuddling with me on this bed. Just thinking about it made my cock ooze some thick droplets of precum. As the restlessness grew further, I thought of talking with her in text messages before calling her on phone.

“Wuzzup Jane? Thinking bout our afternoon meetin?or thinkin wat we’d talk on fone in a few mins? ;)” With my heart beating very fast, I pressed the sent button and then stared at the screen for what seemed like ages.

I waited and waited, but did not get any response. A little disappointed, I placed order for dinner, took my book out and started reading. With book in one hand and cock in the other, I just could not concentrate on the words. It was as if I was watching a movie of Jane and I in the pages of book. The message tone of my cell brought me back to reality, giving me that special churning in my stomach.

I opened the message that read, “Jus feedin ma kids,thot bout it a lil. Wat r u doin now?”

That evil smile got bigger as I typed, “Lying in bed ...... naked! TMI, right?”

To this message, I got an instant reply, “Jamessss, wat got in yr head. U were quite a gentleman at lunch and now.... lol, and wat’s tmi?”

That ‘lol’ was enough to tell me that she did not mind it, so I thought of taking it a little further.

“well, taking matter in hand:), I jus said im lying naked, was it really tmi? I didnt tell u wat i am doin, did I?”

“u r being too much now, no, u didn tell me dat n i don wanna know. Hehehe,” Jane replied, giving me a baton to move on the same track.

“i’ve no cure 4 dirty minds:) a penny 4 yr thought: wat do u really think i was doin?”

I knew for sure the exchanging texts was opening a new chapter in our lives, and I believed I would love every word of it.

It seemed Jane was also waiting for my text as eagerly as I did because I got an instant reply, “not tellin u ne thin.yr a dirty ol man.i think i’d better switch off my cell until u clean up the mess upstairs:).”

With that smiley from Jane, I thought of taking a chance and typed, “u thot i was touchin myself, didnt u?”

My cock was getting harder with all these innuendos. I was impatiently waiting for her next message. My heart pounding in my chest so hard that it seemed it would come out any time. She did not reply for a long time. It was almost fifteen minutes. I was cursing myself for sending that message. Even after thirty minutes, there was no response.

“I’ve ruined everything for sure,” I thought to myself.

Even my cock was showing its anger by turning its head to right, lying so passively on my thigh. Every passing second was taking a toll on me. I had hundred and one different thoughts running through my mind in a second, both optimistic and pessimistic. I had to have her back somehow; yet I decided to wait for her next reply to be on safer side. I looked at the clock. It was almost 9 pm now.

“You’d better send her one more message and if she doesn’t reply, then call it a night,” I told myself when the door was knocked and at the same moment, my mobile chimed.

For a moment, I was not sure whether to open the door first or check out the text. Then I realized I could do both at the same time.

How true Francis Bacon was, “It is impossible to love and to be wise.”

I opened the message box and asked loudly, “who’s it?” and hearing “room service,” I shouted “come in” a little too loud while I opened the message.

I was so relieved to see it with such a big smile on my face that even the butler smiled as if he knew everything.

Her text was like golden words for me as it read, “Wat else can i expect from a dirty ass lyin naked. Doncha hav nethin gud 2 do Mr. Miller.”

As I was reading the message for the second time and forming a naughtier message in my mind, she sent another text that said, “sorry for taking so long.i was tuckin my kids in bed n tellin dem nite time story.”

This message relieved me even further. Now I was pretty relaxed and my dirty mind was at full swing.

My next text to her was, “u cant expect a book in my hand?and as if u neve touched yrself:)!”

Her reply to this was quick, “I can expect a book in yr hand but im not sure bout de oder hand.”

She was really quick in typing text messages as her followup message didnt take more than thirty seconds that said, “we all have needs, dont we?but i dont do it all the time as u do. Hehehe.”

I was wondering how come she was being so open to sexual innuendos when she was so shy at lunch but I kept this question for future consumption as I replied, “ya, we do but there’r not many who’d admit it.i think its time i call u now, ready for it?”

Jane’s reply to it was bold, so provocative that even my cock woke up from its deep slumber; maybe to see if it was needed.

“Ready4what James.dont read too much into it.switch off yr dirty mind b4 callin me or im not takin yr call.lol.”

Instinctively, my left hand replaced the book with my cock and right hand dialed her number. It seemed she picked up the call before the bell rang.

I heard her say chuckling, “You’re a dirty man James,” and she giggled.

“Oh really! And what do you think about yourself when you were talking about my hands? Wasn’t it a dirty mind Janey?”

I replied but immediately felt that I said something wrong, as she went silent and when she spoke, she uttered next few words in pretty serious tone.

“Please don’t call me Janey. It hurts,” she said and went silent again. The air was getting heavy.

I was trying to find something to say when she spoke again, “My husband used to call me Janey, you know ... you are so much like Dave. You talk and create fun, play with words and force people to smile even when they are stressed. For a few seconds, I thought I was texting with him when we started exchanging messages. It feels good to find another man I can be open and frank with and at the same time, it’s so painful. I hope you understand the point James.”

Silence prevailed for quite a while. I wanted her to say whatever was there in her heart and mind.

However, when the silence continued, I stuttered, “Well, I don’t know what I should say. I can feel the pain you’ve been going through but as you said it during our conversation at lunch, life moves on, and we need to move along with it.”

I wanted to change the mood of this conversation so I quickly added, “By the way, I assume our little innuendos must have got you a little uneasy somewhere else too. Wet, aren’t you?”

My efforts got an immediate result, a long “Jameeeeeeeeees” and then “If you exposed your real dirty self to me at lunch, I would never agree to give you my number and permission to call me.”

She giggled and I knew we could move ahead in that line.

So I insisted, “You didn’t answer my question, are you?”

I heard a little rustling and fumbling before i heard a sigh from her side as she said, “You’re really too much. And no, I’m not giving you any answer to your naughty banters.”

“How will you feel Jane, how will you feel if I enter your room while you are busy with your showroom papers, hold you from back and kiss the side of your neck.”

I didn’t stop there as I wanted to make her feel wanted. I wanted her to squirm in delight. I wanted to hear her moans and groans.

So I asked her,“What are you wearing?"

“James please don’t,” she replied in a hissing tone.

But after a small pause, Jane answered, “yes to your earlier question and sweat suit is the answer to your second one.”

“Fine, all right. I think we should not let this opportunity of knowing each other deeply go waste.”

I winked and then realized she could not see me over the phone. It seemed she had some fears inside her that put her in a deep trance.

But it seemed she came out of it quickly, “And you James.”

I quickly replied, “Nothing.”

“Oh, James," she uttered. Then, with heavy sarcasm, “So dirty.”

“Thank you. But you know, since I'm already pretty much naked, it's only fair if you are, too.”

“What??? You want me to take off my clothes? James, are you in your senses?”

“Very much,” I answered. “I'm getting a hard-on just thinking about it.”

She seemed a little shocked as she gasped but then I felt as if she was getting in the mood. I was just observing the changes in the pattern of her breathing. It was like a blind man trying to figure out what was happening around.

“Will you be surprised if i tell you i’m not wearing much either.”

“But you said you had sweat suit on?” I asked wondering what was actually going on there.

“Well, I took off my shirt before i moved to bed and i was not wearing anything underneath.”

I chuckled knowing that she avoided the word ‘bra’ or ‘underwear’, “and you think I’m dirty ol’ man.”

After a little pause just to keep my breath under control, I said again, “Talk to me, baby,” with a sensual tone. “Describe everything.”

“Well, I took off my shirt earlier, and wasn’t wearing a ... aaaa.... a”

“Bra,” I said to complete the sentence, and then asked her, “So what can I see now, any other shield hiding Jane’s ...”

“Everything, almost. I'm naked. Well, half naked. You can see my breasts, and my nipples. My nipples are getting hard.”

“Mmm,” I replied. “I love your tits. I want to feel them. Can I put my big, rough hands on them?”

“Yessssssss,” she said. “Please touch them James. Ohhhh! Yes, I want you to touch them dirty ol’ man.”

Her breathing was saying her body was responding quite positively. Just thinking about it was making my cock harder. I asked her to lie down on the bed and close her eyes.

“Just imagine my hands touching them ... oh yeah Jane, they feel so nice. Do you like me touching you like this? Do you like me squeezing your tits and pulling your hard nipples?”

“Yeah,” was her instant reply. Her voice was softer, her breathing disturbed.

“Touch yourself with your hand the way you imagine me touching them, and describe it all,” I instructed her.

She told me her free hand moved to her tits and she began rubbing and kneading them, gently twisting her nipples between her fingers as she described.

"Can I lick them, Jane?" I asked.

I just heard hissing sounds, trembling and troubling breath.

"Please, yesssssssss."

I continued, “Let me suck on those big tits.”

“Okay...” was her only response and I could feel she must have had to made an effort to even say this one word, showing how aroused she was.

“I'm licking them all over. Can you feel it?”

“Yessssssss.”

She was breathing harder now. She described that she pushed one of her large breasts up towards her mouth and gave it a long, slow, wet lick.

“Tell me what you feel, baby.”

Jane had to swallow hard before she could obey, “I can feel your tongue on my tits. It's so warm and wet. My whole chest is tingling.”

“Just your chest?” I was quick and ready to make full use of every opportunity at hand.

“No. I'm getting wet, too.”

“That's good,” I continued. “That's good, Jane. Are your pants still on?”

“Just a second,” she answered.

I could hear her getting up off the bed, still holding the phone to her ear, as I could clearly hear her breath.

“Describe it to me as you take them off. Tell me what I can see.”

“OK.” she began pulling her sweat pants down slowly.

“You can see just the top of my butt now.”

“Oh, baby. You're teasing me, huh? My big cock is so hard for you right now.”

Jane pulled her pants down further, revealing just her backside.

“Now you can see my whole butt.”

“Mmm. That ass is just perfect, baby. Can I hold it? Can I squeeze those cheeks with my hands?”

“Yeahhhhh.”

“Can you feel me?” I asked.

“Yesssssssss.”

She slid her hand across her butt and squeezed one of her cheeks. Then she traced her crack with her finger. It caused her to moan just slightly, which caught her off guard.

“Oh, you like that, don't you?” I said. “You like it when I rub your ass. But what about that juicy pussy of yours? Can I see that, yet?”

Jane let her pants drop to her ankles. She stepped out of them and lay back onto the bed, again closing her eyes. She told me she could smell her wet, throbbing sex in the room as if this wonderful smell filled the room like never before.

“Is it hairy, trimmed or shaved.” I asked her.

“It needs shaving James.”

“OK. Spread your legs, and tickle the hair just above your slit. I like the feel of pussy when it is shaved.”

She told me she hadn't had much motivation lately to cut it. The blond curls covering her mound were only about half of an inch long, and I told her I would like her to change that in the morning.

“Yes,” she answered.

“Now you can see all of me. I'm completely naked.”

“Oh my gawwwd, you are so hot, baby,” I said. “I'm going to finger you now. Can I do that? Can I put my finger in your pussy, Jane?”

She told me she slid her finger over her wet slit and then dipped it inside herself. Her body trembled, as did her voice.

“Ye—yes.”

She was breathing very hard now.

“You're so wet,” I said in a husky deep voice.

“I put my finger on your pussy lips and you just sucked me right in, didn't you? God, you're so hot Jane. So hot and tight, even on my finger."

She began moving not just one but now two fingers in and out of her pussy.

“Yeah,” she managed to choke out. “It feels so good.”

“Now I want to fuck you,” I announced. “I want to stuff this big dick of mine right up your tight little cunt. You want that?”

She hesitated, then said, “No.”

"No?" the surprise and a kind of shock was evident in my voice.

I was taken aback a little, but tried to keep things going.

“Oh yes you do. You want me to fuck you with my hard cock until we both cum...”

“James, no,” she said again.

If I was confused by the sudden turn of events, it seemed she was in shock on her end too. She explained without ceasing the movements of her fingers that for almost the entire session, she had been trying to imagine that she was doing it with her deceased husband. But when I talked about taking it to the next level, she could not deny it. It was not her husband in her imagination at all. It was James, the person she had just met and talked for a few hours, not the handsome dream-boy who fathered her kids. This turn of event shocked her too. I realized that it was just too much and too sudden a change for her. It wasn't her military boy who had touched Jane's breasts and nipples; it was I that she was imagining. I had sucked her breasts. I had squeezed her ass. I had slid a finger into her wet pussy.

And now, hearing my voice describing my “big dick” and “hard cock” was just too much.

“Whether to let that feeling go and begin a new life or stick to the person who will never be back” was the question she was pondering.

It felt weird, and it was taking Jane right out of the fantasy. She couldn't believe what she was wanting, but she couldn't deny it either.

“All right,” she seemed to have made up her mind.

Still catching her breath, she took control of the conversation without missing a beat, “No James, not yet, bec’z first I wanna taste that big hard cock. Is it wet with pre-cum?”

I knew at that very moment, life will not be same; neither for me, nor for Jane...

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Second part is coming along pretty soon. But how soon depends on the feedback I get. Do let me know if you like the story and if you want me to continue it on.
3 comments

anonymous readerReport

2010-12-31 01:15:44
Ugh the texting part was annoying. othe then that id say you did a pretty good job.

anonymous readerReport

2010-12-30 17:26:40
You have such great potential. Keep up the good work.

Conversation is the hardest thing to write and you do it very well.

anonymous readerReport

2010-12-30 17:24:27
Oh I love the story! Lets do part 2 and 3 and so on.

Ignore the people on here that are negative if the writer takes awhile to get folks togeather.

Some of us are pretty smart and like different types of stories,
You are a Smart Writer and a good word Smith, keep it up.

Read Quigley and his Favs. they are Masters, don't let the critics depress or
scare you.

In my business "the sale starts when the customer says No."

You do good work.

Women coming back from the loss of a spouse often miss chance after chance. The idea that you are supposed to live for the Memory is bogus.

Even harder with kids, and sometimes even harder with grown kids.

It takes a special person to get by that.

This is a strong professional women who either is or will be wealthy.

Keep up a really good story.

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