#MondaysMuse on The Erotic Writers Group: Challenge Central

#MondaysMuse: Third Person Love

The Challenge

Write a piece in third person narrative.

They had met in highschool and hardly noticed one another. She was a skinny girl with coke bottle glasses and an inability to tame her wild hair who sat behind the most popular boy in the whole school during endless biology lessons conducted by none other than Mr. Bates – or as the school girls called him “Bator”.

He was popular at the school for a lot of reasons. First, his family owned half the town. His father was the mayor, his mother hosted grand banquets and all his brother’s – who were older than him – had these amazing jobs as lawyers and CEO’s. Then, he was a star athlete in the most extreme way that you could imagine. If there was a sport to be played, he was front and center, winning every medal imaginable. You’d never believe it by looking at him, but he had placed first in a ballet competition in Russia and had a dozen medals for professional wrestling.

When they first met, he was a relentless tease. He was incredibly good looking and when he was’t being a total ass, he was quite charming. Girls flocked to him constantly and even though he showed little interest, they just kept coming. Her first memory of him involves the dissection of a lamb’s eye – something she dreaded and he had looked forward to his whole life; it was the reason he was in biology instead of the other science classes taught at this jail cell they call highschool.

Years passed before they would meet again and this time, all the time that made up a life by this point had changed them entirely. He was still ridiculously good looking, although no longer boyish looking at all. Grey hair had creeped into his once dark locks, giving him an air of dignity that was hard to anticipate. He was no longer a successful athlete due to a stinging pain in his knees although his name was well-known from his long running career as such.

She was the most unrecognizable. Years of heartache, break-ups and make-ups gone bad, failures in her personal and professional life and hours wasted crying, left her looking ragged and frazzled beyond repair. Her wild hair, which had always been hard to tame, wiggled around her face in dizzy curls. Her skin was ruddy from too much sun, not enough protection and love and her lips chapped at the corners.

They bumped into each other on the street. He was rushing to the office, a briefcase in one hand and a coffee in the other, talking into the device strapped to his ear. She was off to meet her best friend Ivy for a coffee at the local shop they both spent way too much time at. Neither of them were paying any attention to the world around them and when they collided, his briefcase popped open and his coffee sprayed all over her tattered white dress.

She immediately started making this harsh cooing sound, as the coffee soaked right through the light fabric burning her sensitive nipples in an instant. He swooped down over the papers fleeing from the case, cursing loudly at the pantheon of random deities about his “stupid luck”. The whole street moved around them, as if there were some barrier keeping them from the dramatic scene about to unfold, as the too of them gathered themselves and their belongings.

She stood with her arms raised up by her side, trying to keep the hot fabric still on her hardening nipples. He closed up the briefcase, saying a silent goodbye to the lost charts and pages floating in the wind, and rose to see the white dress stained and clinging to her nipples. She pointed her finger, from it’s raised position, “Hey, I know you, don’t I?”.

He squinted his eyes at her, cocking his head slightly and reached up to brush a wet strand of hair out of her face. “Oh, maybe… I… uhm… I think so…”. She grabbed his waist and pulled him in for a tight hug, “Of course you do, it’s me!” and he felt strange because the girl he thought she was was not the type of girl who would or should hug him and yet, here she was…

She smelt like vanilla to him and her hair crowded his face. Without meaning to, his manhood sprung to life and she cooed at the feel of it against the wet front of her dress. He embraced her slightly tighter and she kissed his cheek as she pulled away. “Do you have somewhere you have to be?”, she asked him rather innocently and he nodded as he gulped, trying to cover himself with his briefcase. “Is it important?”, she implored, her freckled cheeks looking adorable behind her big glasses and wild hair. He just barely shrugged his shoulders and began to open his lips to explain, when she grabbed his hand and pulled him along behind her.

They walked rather hurriedly and every time he opened his mouth to ask a question or argue their fleeing with her, she turned and smiled and he forgot that he cared to know. They stopped in the middle of an alley between two tall brick buildings, a narrow curvy street winding between them. She pulled him in tightly again and wriggled against him, enjoying the feel of him through her thin dress.

She shoved him up against the brick wall and began undoing his pants, working his belt out of the front loops and unlatching the button. He seemed to grow and grow as her long fingers worked his length out of his pants. He put his hand in her wild and scraggly hair, feeling much softer than it looked, and pulled her in for a deep kiss and she pressed her body up against his, the front of her dress damp.

She turned away from him and lifted up the back of her dress, revealing nothing but her smooth white ass. He instinctively reached out and grabbed it when he realized that she was already very wet. He quickly rammed his strong cock deep into her and she let out a yelp as he pulled out and thrust deep again. He pulled hard on her hips, thrusting himself into her and she muffled the sounds of her screams in her hands which were firmly clasping around her mouth.

His final thrust was his hardest and her hands fell to the ground to support herself as he half collapsed on her backside shivering, the wall behind him just barely keeping him off the ground. He sunk until he was seated and she moved with him, keeping his shrinking cock inside of her. He closed his eyes trying to piece together what had just happened and she turned herself around to face him.

She stroked his hair as she kissed his forehead, this small crease forming on it from a vein that appeared when he became confused. Her hands traveled through his greying hair and she laid kisses around his nose, down his neck, across his jawbone as the muscles of her pussy gently clenched around him. His hands wrapped about her body and he gently rocked his hips without being aware of his slight actions.

He muttered, “What just… happened…?” and she shook her head, “We’re just getting to know one another, now, aren’t we?”, and he nodded even though he had no idea what she meant. They sat in that alley, in that position for what felt like a lifetime, muttering things back and forth to each other and before they knew it, they felt like they had gotten to know one another. They exchanged stories and told truths, they spoke about work and friends and by the end of it had repeated another climax for each of them, in that position.

When they walked away from that encounter, her cellphone squealing with calls from her missed coffee with Ivy and his head heaving with all the appointments he had just missed, they never considered that would be the start of what has now become a 20-year marriage with 3 kids and 6 grandkids…