A cold, rainy night in late autumn. The tavern was crowded. Sound of people talking, laughing, cheering; a few storytellers surrounded by their respective audience, some guests sitting at the bar. A typical night in Big ol' Tom's tavern. None of the storytellers had, nevertheless, attracted the old barista's attention—so far, that is.

That was until the heavy oaken double-wing doors opened once more. A man in his late twenties stepped in, coat soaked from the cold November rain. He looked around for a free seat—no particularly peculiar behavior so far. His eye caught the last free bar stool.

When slowly walking towards it, he overheard a few stories. A very specific one caught his interest.

“But, dude, she did give you head, right?” asked a listener to the teller of this special story.

“No,” replied a grinning elderly and clearly drunk man, “for she had no head.”

The crowd around him almost died laughing. Unable to understand the joke, the young man stopped his walk to the bar, and turned his head to the elderly storyteller, disgusted by his sick sense of humor.

Another customer—probably a regular, judging from the self-confidence he emanated—approached him, and put his hand on his shoulder.

“Don't mind him, son,” this customer said, drying his hand—wet from the young lad's soaked coat—on his own jacket. “He's got a sick sense of humor. Always tells stories 'bout 'Nam. Claims he's fought in the war although everyone knows he ain't never set as much as a foot there.”

The elderly drunk storyteller stood up at once and walked—better: lurched his way—to the two men who had apparently insulted him.

His voice reeked of cheap booze. “Like you got an idea how many of those fucking slant-eyed gook fucks I killed back there!”

Another voice came roaring from the bar. “That's enough!!”

It was Big ol' Tom who was leaning over the mahogany bar. “How many times have I told you that we won't tolerate any racist expressions nor any aggressive behavior in here, Patrick!”

The drunk man squinted at the owner of the tavern. “Cut me some slack, Tom! I'm one of your regulars! He started it, man!”

Not willing to argue, Big ol' Tom sent the doorman after his drunk customer. It wasn't much of a fight, though.

Finally, the young man sat on the barstool.

“Pretty much going on here tonight, huh?” he stated.

Big ol' Tom replied while filling a few pints with his exquisite draft, “Patrick. An old friend. Warned him too many times, though. But let's not talk about this, shall we? What can I do for you, son?”

“Do I get it right that this here is the place where stories are told?” the young man asked, catching some of the other customers' interest.

“That's what the sign in front of this tavern said last time I checked. Big ol' Tom's Tavern, it says, the place where stories are told. ” The old man himself put a freshly filled pint in front of his new guest. “Drinks on the house while you're telling.”

He took a first long sip. “Well, that's something I like. Sure, a good story. I got one.”

One of the other customers whistled to catch everybody's attention to the bar.

“Listen up, everyone! We've finally got someone telling his story at the bar tonight!” he shouted to draw more listeners.

Before long, a little crowd had settled around the young man sitting at the bar. He heard many requests to make it kinky and dirty. He surely did not have an issue regarding that matter.

He smiled, sighed, and took a deep breath before beginning his story.

“My story takes place a few years back...”

----------------

It started with an innocent walk home after a company dinner. I can't recall what we were celebrating. A new boss, an older member retiring, or maybe it was the company's Christmas party? Had to be that, since it was in the middle of December.

I had kind of not really thought of any good plan on when or how to leave and getting back home. I just left at some point before I knew everyone was getting pretty much plastered and tiresome to hang around with. Just not my kind of evening. I mean... Nothing against a decent buzz as long as one can keep their shit together.

Another friend who left early gave me a ride to the bus station. I only realized I had missed the bus by a mere two minutes as my friend had already left. The next bus? Not before one in the morning, which meant another hour and a half to kill. As I already said, I had not lost a thought on how to get back home.

The night, however, was really mild for mid-December. Even though I only had my favorite zipper hoodie for a jacket, I felt pretty warm.

Screw it, I thought. I'll just walk home. What was it? Two miles? I knew the way along the woods like the back of my hand. Many had been the times I had taken this way to get home. A beautiful road along the woods, almost romantic, only lit by the moonlight. No streetlamps. A good three-quarters of an hour of time to lose myself in my thoughts.

Funny thing is that my thoughts instantly traveled to my ex-girlfriend, Emanuelle.

Oh, Emanuelle... What great experiences we had shared... Just the mere thought of it makes me dream again...

We had taken that very stroll home countless times during warm summer nights. I also remembered the time she merely saw the nice friend who walks you home in me. That was before we were together. Why would I do that, you may wonder. We just lived five minutes apart, by foot that is—practically neighbors—and she was that kind of girl you wouldn't let walk home in the dark alone. See what I mean? That was until one day our good night hug routine became more than just a formality between friends.

One of these nights, she wouldn't let go of me, and, well, I wouldn't let go either. Our warm embrace felt like... like... coming home, yeah that's what it felt like. Can't find another way to describe it. And after what felt like forever, our embrace turned into a shy kiss. A shy kiss turned into a more daring kiss. A more daring kiss turned into curiosity, and curiosity led to a rather wild night.

We were only together for a little more than a year. But within that time, I truly fell in love with her like I never had with any girl before. She just felt like the one I belonged to. For a moment there, I really thought I had found me the girl of my dreams; the girl I wanted to spend my life with. But from one day to another, things went south. Just like that.

I should have known better when she asked me if I was willing into an open relationship. Of course, I was surprised by her request, but not quite shocked, though. I told her I needed a moment to wrap my head around it.

Later, I agreed under the condition that, one, we would tolerate each other's adventures as long as it wasn't like every other night or so, and, two, we would be honest about it with each other, be allowed to ask any question whatever uncomfortable they were, and get an honest answer to it. Why not? We were young, inexperienced, naïve, adventurous. The thrill of it was very appealing to both of us. I couldn't have been more wrong. What an idiot...

This worked out pretty OK for a while. She had her adventures, nothing too serious, though—all within agreement. I didn't feel like she was cheating on me. In return, I got to ask anything I wanted. Fine by me. It even turned out that I got pretty turned on by listening to her stories.

They weren't many, though. She had like two escapades in like six or seven weeks. Or did she have three? Doesn't really matter anyway.

And then, one day—I was out at some rock show at an open-air festival I can't really remember, for the girl I had in view distracted me too much from the actual band playing—I thought I'd allow myself a nice little adventure too, so I'd have a nice little story to tell as well. So... I... uh... hooked up with her. Nothing too serious either, though; just some touchy-feely stuff, no actual fling. Again, nothing too serious.

And, yeah, I told Emanuelle about it. And guess what... She wasn't so amused, no, she was, like, really pissed off about it. So... Big fight. Sure, she gets to fuck around, but I gotta stay true? Don't think so. Well, she broke up with me after first telling me that she needed some time to herself to think, and letting me wait in my little misery for a few weeks. 'Cause I really was miserable, you know? Me ready to give up anything for her, basically just wishing she'd be the one I'd spend my life with, yeah?

So much for the open relationship... As I said, I should have known better from the very beginning on. What a shame. But, hey, that's the way things were.

Of course, I tried to move on. A rather hard task, considering that I had really believed we would work things out together. I had just put way too much effort into a relationship that was bound to fail from the moment she asked about that relationship... uh... upgrade. And of course, moving on had consisted of trying to find me a new girl. Wasn't even as hard as I had initially been afraid of, but equally easily breakable, unfortunately. Just for the record, the first girl I tried to date after Em had broken up with me turned out to be the one I had cheated her on with. So no serious relationship after our break-up it was.

And her? She as well hadn't waited too long to find her a substitute for me either. She still was with him for all I knew, but wasn't exactly what you'd call faithful and honest. I had heard more than just once that she was still fucking around as she had wanted while she'd been with me, but her boyfriend was just too damn naïve to see through her, although he knew perfectly well.

So there I was, walking home, thinking of that sweet time we shared. That was—like what?—three years later or so? We hadn't really seen each other since. Maybe in the mom-and-pop store, in a bar, or downtown somewhere, crossing each other, saying hello, and avoiding being awkward by immediately breaking eye contact and simply keeping on walking, pretending to have shit to do. Don't blame me, right? She acted just the same.

But often enough had I thought of her. I had missed her real bad, and sometimes still do. To be honest, sometimes, she still is the reason why I can't really bond with anyone, I guess. But still... However good the memories of her and our time together were, and however often I absent-mindedly thought of her—every time I did so and still do, actually—that dark shadow of the way she ditched me still hangs over these precious memories, churns up my stomach, twitches my belly, and leaves me with a bad feeling in my guts; even now so.

That time, however, was different. Was it the little alcohol I'd had? Much unlikely so. Or was it some kind of anticipation? Perhaps an expectation? I don't know. I just walked home and thought it would be funny to meet her. Maybe even to walk her home, for the old times' sake. That thought made me smile a bit.

But let's be honest, what were the odds? Considering that she had moved away from her mother's to another town two years before, the chances of her paying a visit to her mother, and thus of bumping into her this very night were rather slim.

I had almost reached the edge of the woods already—a quarter mile from home, one half at max—when I decided to sit down on that bench at the very end of the woods and enjoy the view of the night sky for a while before I'd finally make it home. When would be the next time I'd enjoy it so much, I thought. Winter would be coming soon. Winters were cold at my place, not the most attractive conditions for a night under the stars, not that there were many of them to see through that gray, thick, hibernal cloud cover that usually hung there.

Guess what, that bench was already taken.

----------------

The young storyteller addressed his next question to his audience. “...and guess by whom?”

He took the last sip of his pint, which immediately got replaced by Big ol' Tom, and ran his index finger over the bar, looking at the crumbs of consumed chips and peanut curls.

He was already digging his face into his freshly filled glass as one of his listeners suggested, “I bet it was Em, huh?”

The young lad took the glass off his face, pointed the index of his hand holding the glass to said listener, said, “Bingo!” and rubbed the froth off his upper lip with the sleeve of his sweater.

The pint landed on the bar again, and the young man proceeded in his story.

----------------

“Come to see the stars as well?” I heard a well too familiar voice I hadn't heard in a while say.

I sighed, “Guess so.”

I was kind of surprised, but also a little pissed off to find her there. I pressed my lips together.

“So what are you doing here, Em? Late. Dark. Alone.”

She chuckled before she replied, “Thinking of long-gone times.” She turned her head. “You do appear in these memories as well. And you?”

“Missed the bus. So I thought I'd take the stroll home, like...”

Emanuelle cut me short, “...we used to. I know. Thinking of these past times as well, I see. It's funny how sometimes things are connected to each other like the tight web the fabric of life and fate are made of.”

“Don't make it sound more romantic than it really is, Em,” I replied rolling my eyes.

She still stared into the dark nothingness of the night. “Why so bitter?”

She clumsily got back on her feet. That was when I saw the half-spilled bottle of cheap booze lying to her feet. She stepped to me—pretty adroitly for half a bottle, actually—and looked at me through tired eyes.

She chuckled, took a deep breath, and let it out audibly. “I got to admit... I was kind of hoping you'd show up... waiting for you, you know?”

I quickly shot back the look, but didn't bother to let my eyes linger on hers.

“Is that supposed to be some sort of declaration or so?” I nonchalantly provoked her.

She hit my shoulder. It was too much of a knock to be meant playfully.

“You should know me better, dumbass,” she whispered.

I resumed my walk home; slowly at first, so she could catch up. I indeed knew her too well to think she'd let me walk away just like that.

We walked a few minutes in awkward silence before I decided to break the ice. “So, um... tell me... What have you been up to? It's been a while, you know.”

Her tone left no doubt that she was a bit pissed off as well. “Oh yeah? And what about all these times you just walked on by me, not even daring to look at me. Really?”

“Sure. Like you were acting any differently... Know what? Let's talk about something else, shall we? Otherwise, I'm afraid this discussion is not headed in any constructive direction.” I suggested.

“Okay, so how about the obvious?” She let her words sink in before proceeding, “I hear you got yourself a new girlfriend? Well... new... Newer than me, that is.”

I hesitated. She must have meant Laura, the adventure she had once used as a pretext to dump me.

“Uh-huh,” I just stated drily.

“It's the girl you had your little adventure with, right? Kinda foreseeable. But, yeah, that's what I get for being a little whiny bitch, right?”

Her self-criticism surprised me a bit and also raised my interest, so I asked for more details: “How so?”

“ Well... That time after our break-up wasn't easy. Not for me at least.” She paused. “I saw you replacing me rather fast. With all that fucking you're the one bullshit you've been feeding me?”

That caught me off guard. It's true that I had never wasted a thought on how she'd feel seeing me with the exact girl she had been jealous of. Apparently, she wasn't aware that this relationship had only lasted a few months. Okay no... Weeks at best.

“Woah there! These weren't lies at all, and you know that. You know I really loved you from the bottom of my heart. Agreed, being with Laura isn't exactly the best way to ask for an apology, but what did you expect? I moved on. And besides, you can't forget how hard I tried to win you back.”

“Yeah, got a point there. You did take risks, you did play the all-or-nothing card, and I just sat on my stubborn ass, and put you off with the too little, too late excuse. It was very stupid of me. Guess it's a little late to ask for forgiveness.”

It was hard to read her face. I couldn't really tell if she was trying to play with me or if she was truly trying to apologize for one of her major teenage mistakes. One part of me was really curious about finding out while the other part of me so desperately clung to this shadow that still hung over Emanuelle and tried to get me out of this situation as fast as possible.

I decided to make a daring move to find out more about her intentions. “No it's not. I can forgive you; that is if you can prove to me you're ready to, but you can't make the past undone. I will never forget how you broke my heart.”

“You make it sound so dramatic. Well, dramatic it indeed was—at least as far as I'm concerned. I certainly don't know how it was for you, but I can imagine it must have been quite painful to have your heart torn apart like that, although you had done nothing wrong. I was stupid. I really was. I should have considered all the implications from an open relationship from the very beginning on, not only the cool stuff about it.”

“Nope, that time was really not cool. I couldn't understand you. I blamed myself for having screwed up something that we had build together with so much effort. Eventually, I became mad at you. Took me a while to accept that we were just a teenage couple that had grown into different ideals that didn't match, and it probably was for the best for us to go separate ways. Sure, it wasn't an easy decision to make, but we both know we would only have hurt each other sooner or later.”

We had arrived at her old place. It was just the way I remembered it. Only as we stopped before the front door, I realized we had been holding hands since quite a while. I was confused. What now? What would be her next move? What would be mine? Had she just been playing with me? Should I just say good night, turn around and go? Yes, just that, nothing more. Or maybe a hug at max.

We looked at each other. Again, an uneasy silence set in.

Before Emanuelle leaned in to hug me, I nervously broke the silence: “It was nice catching up with you. Real nice. But I should be going home now.”

“Why?” she asked, “Don't you want to come in?”

“No,” I replied, “I'm tired, Em.”

“You can spend the night here if you like.” She tilted her head, and chuckled nervously, what caused a crooked smile to flash across her lips. “Just for the old times' sake, you know.”

I didn't hesitate, for I had already made up my mind earlier that night. “No, I can't. I have a girlfriend, and you know that.”

I admit that it was a bluff. A bad one even. But I just wanted to make it out of this situation as quickly as possible.

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, you're such a bad liar.”

Shit! She didn't hook. So another plan needed it was.

“And you... have a boy... friend,” I stammered trying to sound as accusing as possible, but failing rather miserably at it.

Turned out the rumors about her fidelity were true as she replied, “Yes, and?”

Oh boy, did she make me angry. I really had to keep it together not to wake up the whole neighborhood. “And what?! That's exactly why our relationship broke. And after what you did to me you seriously ask me to spend the night with you while knowing you've already got someone screwing you? Seriously? Are you fucking kidding me?”

She wanted to slap me, but her hands were too shaky. Adrenaline? The alcohol the smell of her breath testified to? “Come on, Dan, that's three years ago! How can you just be so resentful?”

“You broke my heart, Emanuelle! You should have known better, you really should have.”

She tried to shove me away. “Oh yeah? Should I?”

I didn't directly react to her physical aggression. “Yes, you should! And now just go to bed, and leave me alone.” I pointed to her bedroom window to emphasize my point, before adding: “And if you so desperately do need a fuck, then call your boyfriend!”

She wasn't used to someone resisting her. She never had been. The mixture of rage and desperation on her face gave away her insecure handling of the situation.

Her facial expression got all distorted as she fought the urge to cry. “Fuck! Do you have any idea how hard it was to get over you? I fucking knew I had made a horrible mistake! But by the time I would have come crawling back, you were already screwing that Laura bitch! You're just thinking of yourself, aren't you? And me?! I fucking loved you! I missed you! Of course, there's Jack! But he's just a substitute... and a bad one on top of that! He could never give me what you gave me: true love! Someone I wanted to spend my life with! He's just a toy.”

I didn't know how to react. All I wanted was to end this situation, whatever the cost. Emanuelle was not exactly dead to me, but not really far from it either. It was up to me: give it another shot, and end things smoothly with her; maybe even be friends again, who knows? She was a nice girl after all. Or ending it there and then. Either way, there was nothing to lose, as I had already wasted far too much effort on it three years before.

So what should I say? It just came blurting out of me. “Now you go to bed, or I'll call the police. I swear I'll do that!”

“Yeah? You'd do that?! And what are you going to say to them, Mr. oh-so-ballsy?!”

“That you're trying to drag me into your bed against my will. I think the common expression for that is sexual harassment.”

I saw a tear pop out of her eye and rolling down her cheek. That was the moment I realized I had apparently overstepped some kind of boundaries I hadn't been aware of. I took her in my arms. She sobbed, rubbed her cheek on my chest. What the hell was I actually doing? I should have let her cry alone in the dark. I should have gone home, turned my back on her. Yeah. Coulda, shoulda woulda... Instead, I promised her to put her to bed. Again, What the hell was I actually doing? Nice going, Dan, I thought.

I got to admit, though, that our close embrace felt all too familiar, warm, intimate. The smell of her skin filled my nostrils as I dug my nose into her sandy blond hair. Again, I was experiencing this sensation of coming home while I saw the shell Emanuelle's shadow had laid over me over the years slowly cracking. It was hard to resist, to keep my fake badass attitude towards her. Her spell hit me again, bewitched me beyond confusion. What next?

Oh man, I really had her thinking she had convinced me into getting laid. She led the way upstairs guiding me to her bedroom through this house that had once been like a second home to me. I was in real deep shit. How in the name of... had I gotten myself into this? But more importantly, how was I gonna get out of it? Shit!

The sexual heat she emanated was filling the air, alluring my body while a million reluctant thoughts raced through my fully alert mind, as to break free from her spell—in vain. My sheer willpower couldn't stand against these long-forgotten memories of sublime carnal pleasure my body was about to re-experience after all these years of abstinence from her.

Once the bedroom door closed, she started undressing, even giving me a little seductive show. She was very good at it. The sway of her hips, the sultry glances she threw me as she licked her lips, the way she ran her hands over her sides down to her thighs. Did she do this to her boyfriend as well? Did she tease him like she teased me? Or was she still in love with me? Or was it just her ritual to seduce another conquest?

These questions stirred something in me, something weird, something sordid, yet twisted. I had to get out of this. The shadows of past events slowly came creeping back to me again. I wasn't looking at a former lover of mine. She had turned into a nymph, a demon... my demon. I desperately wanted to escape the room, leave, but my legs would not move an inch. Mouth open and dry; my eyes barely blinking, they drank in the sight of this temptress slowly blinding me with the promise of fulfilling my deepest sexual desires. I knew she could.

She sat down on the bed and patted the free spot on the mattress for me to join. I licked my lips and excused myself to the bathroom. At least, my mouth still worked properly. Having excused myself, I was forced to actually go to the bathroom so I wouldn't create an awkward situation.

I closed the bathroom door behind me, leaned with my back to it, and slowly sat down on the floor. I kneaded the root of my nose with my index and my thumb. I mumbled some gibberish—nothing really important, though. What was I supposed to do? I needed to figure something out, and I needed to do it fast!

I got back on my feet. I leaned over the sink, turned the cold water on, and looked at myself in the mirror before I splashed some of the icy water in my face. It cleared my thoughts a bit, woke me up a little.

Still without a real plan, I stepped back into Emanuelle's room. Nevertheless, my mind was set. I was determined to leave her, no matter how.

Fate, however, turned out to be a generous friend this time. As I approached the bed, I heard her snoring. She had fallen asleep while I had been trying to clear that mist in my head. The alcohol, no doubt. So easy. So goddamn fucking easy. I had to contain myself from bursting out in laughter.

I stepped out of her bedroom, and let out a huge sigh of relief. Phew!

----------------

“Wait... what?!” one of the listeners shot in to interrupt Dan's narration, “you let her go? Just like that?”

Another listener intervened before Dan could reply, “Let him tell the story already!”

“He's got a point, I guess,” Dan stated, “so, tell me, what would you have done?”

“I would have fucked her, and dumped her the very next day. C'mon, man, she deserved no different, right?”

Dan took a sip of his beer. A few peanut curls were shoved into his mouth. He nodded while chewing on them.

“Sure. I think any of us would have done this if it wasn't for Emanuelle, see? She's more the kind of girl who can't stand resistance against her charms. Plus... as I said, fate turned out to be an outstandingly generous friend that time. My revenge was better than just dumping her. Just you wait.

Dan paused to take his breath before resuming his story: “So... where was I...? Ah, yeah! So I was standing there in the hallway when...”

----------------

...another door cracked open. It was dark, so my eyes needed a while to adjust to the unfavorable lighting conditions. The first thing I could make out was a pair of crossed legs—female legs. A little further up, the hem of a thin, white nightgown covered the thighs that belonged to that pair of legs. Even further up, I saw a body, leaning to a door frame, a smile with eyes half-closed and a pair of ample breasts, nipples poking through the sheer fabric of the nightgown. It was Sheryl, Emanuelle's mother.

Let me tell you something about Sheryl before I go on with my little story, okay? She's worth the description, trust me. Oh yeah, I can see you guys already grinning.

Let's say she was that type of mother a young girl would not let her boyfriend hang out with. There's a word for that... Cougar it is, I guess. Matter of fact, Emanuelle had made the experience of getting turned down for the simple reason that her mother was so stunningly hot. Many times over even. This went so far that I only got introduced to Sheryl three months into my relationship with her daughter; and that was by accident, by the way. Yes, one can say that Emanuelle saw her mother as a threat, a rival—it was justified, though.

There indeed was everything to be cautious about. Sheryl was one exceptionally looking lady. You could really see how she loved being herself by the self-confidence in her aura. She was a naturally strong person who seemed to enjoy the attention she got; mostly from the boys her daughter brought home every now and then.

Well, she had every reason to: she had straight, sandy, sun-bleached hair that she usually wore in a pigtail all the way down to the small of her back. Her skin had a healthy complexion and showed no signs of age as it was perfectly smooth—probably the result of her constant workout, together with her toned body. And those legs and ass. Oh boy, an instant boner for any young man in the middle of his hormonal troubles. But the best were her tits. Full, firm, natural, high-standing D or even E cups. At her age? One of nature's finest little miracles. Every time I had seen her cleavage, I had, no joking, left a trace of my slobber all over the place. And her reaction? A cheeky little I'm-sooo-sorry grin.

Get the picture, huh?

And there she stood, her luscious body barely covered by her nightie. My eyes were glued to hers. My heart accelerated to top speed. I heard every single beat roaring in my ears, getting louder with each pulse.

“Now look who we got here,” she said in her most seductive tone, underlined with the satisfaction of knowing her words had the desired effect. “If this isn't Dan. What are you doing here, kiddo?”

I swallowed and cleared my throat, so at least my voice would hide my nervousness. “Good evening, Mrs. Woods.” I paused. “This is not what it looks like.”

A delighted smile flashed across her lips as though she was excited about the situation.

“Why so formal, Dan? You know it's Sheryl.” She tilted her head, and licked her upper lip, before adding, “So what does it look like, then?”

“Um...” I stammered, “I don't... uh... really... know...”

She did nothing to hide her amusement. “So how do you want to know what I think this looks like?”

I honestly didn't know what to reply. With me taken aback by bumping into her in the first place, her smoking hot appearance and her natural disposition to tease significantly younger men made it impossible for me to think straight, let alone formulate coherent sentences.

She stepped a little closer to me, patted my shoulder, and then softly placed her hand on my cheek.

“Just kidding, Dan. I followed your little fight outside,” she whispered while slowly approaching her face to mine until I could almost sense her breath. “I know you only came here because the situation demanded so.”

In reaction to her proximity, my heart almost jumped every other beat. I had to step back a little. Although it was dark, I could see a playful sparkling in her eyes. She loved the way she made me feel like a stupid little kid.

“Hey, I'm proud of you. For real. You said no to my daughter. Well, you basically said no to a girl. Not many men can do that—especially not young men. Yes, you've seen Em's flaws, but you've been with her for over a year, and I know that if it hadn't been for that open relationship shit, you'd still be together. You would have been a good son-in-law, actually—the dream come true for an every mother. You should know that. I really wished you two would work things out together, I really did.”

She let her words sink in. Her words had struck me good, but not as good as what followed. “Of course, she told me everything after your break-up. It took her a few weeks to realize she had made a terrible mistake. You were the one for her, and she knew it. She had to swallow the bitter pill and to realize her idea had not been so good after all. All she told you half an hour ago was true. Em was miserable after she dumped you. She had been playing a game with high risk while being a bad loser. And in the end, all that was left were... consequences.”

Again, Sheryl paused. She wet her lips with her tongue.

“She still loves you, you know. And I can see that you still have feelings for her as well. But I can also see that shadow of irreparable damage that clings over the two of you.”

I sighed. It was the first time, I took my eyes off hers. I stared into the blank darkness of the stairwell. The corner of my mouth twitched involuntarily. I looked back at her, opened my mouth as though to say something, but closed it again.

Sheryl resumed, “She's a lot like me.” She paused to take a deep breath. “Because when her father left me, we had been through a very similar story, resulting in a comparable situation. It took me very long to get over him; almost fifteen years. During that time, I felt the need to compensate for my loss. That's why I enjoyed the attention these teenage boys gave me so much. It made me feel desired, it made me feel like a woman again, and I was proud of being one. It became some sort of a game to me. Em, however, is taking this whole thing even further. She's just screwing every guy around.”

She narrowed her eyes to tiny slits.

She still whispered, but with a tone sharp enough to cut through flesh, “That little slut was even shameless enough to seduce my man! We've been dating for about two years now, and she just goes... and fucks him!”

She took a strand of her hair between her fingers and played with it as her facial features softened again.

“He confessed to me. He was so ashamed of it. Serves him right. I forgave him, but only under one condition: I get to cheat on him as well.”

She let go of her hair. Her voice changed back to its sweet, seductive sound. “And I think it's time for us to teach Em a little lesson.” She quickly shot a glance to the floor, bit her lower lip, and looked back into my eyes. “You and me, that is.”

She approached me again. “Don't you want to...” Sheryl lay her hand on my nape and softly tugged my head towards her face. “...give her something back for what she did to you?”

Once more, she bit her lower lip and released it again. Doing so, it slightly brushed mine. I had an instant hard-on. My teenage wet dream about to be fulfilled? With that MILF? She was hot, hot, hot! Plus get some revenge on Em as a convenient side effect? Hell yeah!

I planted a daring kiss on her lips for an answer. She joyfully squirmed from the pleasant surprise. She took my face in both hands and smiled at me. She stepped back, grabbed my shirt firmly, and led the way to her bedroom, where she almost threw me on her bed. She quickly closed the door and mounted me with one leap.

Her hands glided under my shirt to feel my skin, my body, my pectorals as she leaned in, and started making out with me. She was on fire. A true feline about to devour her prey.

My shirt was quickly removed, leaving my naked skin exposed in the dim moonlight. She licked her lips by the sight of my body as she inspected me as if I was a piece of art and she the connoisseur.

As she lowered her body on mine again, I allowed my hands to slide under her nightie. She traced my jawline with her lips, licked my neck, sucked on my skin, bit me... My neck, my pectorals, my nipples, all the way down to my groin while my hands slowly eased her out of her nightie. She was naked underneath.

She sat up again, granting me the sight of her exquisite body. Her legs apart, my sight caught her delicious pussy—completely bald. She spread her labia so I could see the first droplets of her female nectar glisten in the moonlight.

“Like what you see?” She whispered smiling.

I was too dumbstruck to reply, so I just nodded my head yes.

A devilish grin crept over her mouth. “But now let me see yours.”

And off went my pants. My skin-tight briefs left no doubt on my raging boner. She bit her lip at the sight of it. Her fingertips traced its outline from base to head to base to my balls which she then gently grabbed. My sigh and the twitch it caused in my shaft made her grin in satisfaction.

She helped me out of my briefs, eyes widening and mouth opening as my cock got free from its tight confinement.

“I so wanna get my brains fucked out with this tonight,” she moaned.

She wrapped her hand around my shaft and softly stroked it. She felt my growing excitement in her palm. She placed her hair behind her ear with her free hand and lowered her head towards my throbbing hard-on. Her lips contracted around the head, and her tongue brushed over the very tip. I couldn't believe that this priceless view I got was actually real. Getting sucked by the cougar mother of your ex-girlfriend. Just... Picture that!

I dug my fingers into the mattress of her king-sized bed from the pleasure I was given. She bobbed her head up and down a few times before taking my dick in all the way down to the balls. She swallowed on it, moaned on it, sending vibrations up my groin through my flesh. Fuck! I was in heaven.

She slowly moved her head up again, letting my cock slide out her mouth until only the head was still between her lips. She started pumping my shaft with her hand while sucking on the purple mushroom like she wanted to suck my cum right out of it. She looked at me with her big eyes. An angel with my dick in her mouth. What a picture!

As she let go, a big drop of pre-cum came oozing out of it. She licked it off, making a sticky rope from her tongue to my cock as she raised her head. She crawled up, and kissed me, shoving her tongue in my mouth to let me taste my own pre-cum. Our tongues danced together all the while she kept on pumping my erection up and down with her hand. I was moaning into her mouth as the ever-increasing pleasure slowly brought me to the brink of my impending orgasm.

She broke the kiss to trace the tip of her tongue up my neck, and nibble on my earlobe.

She lowly sighed into my ear and whispered, “I know I was your wet dream. Know what? You were mine too.”

By hearing this, my cock instantly got stiffer. I almost blew my load over her confession. She felt the stiffening in her hand and stopped moving it at once, grinning knowingly.

“Not so fast there, boy. We've still got the whole night to go.”

She cautiously took her hand off my stiffness and straddled her leg over me so she only needed to sit down on it to get impaled. Before she let it glide into her drenched cavity, she spread her pussy lips apart again. A thin rope of her viscous nectar slowly fell on the very tip of my cock.

“You see how wet I am? You see how hungry my cunt is for you and your steamy semen?”

She plunged two of her fingers in her hole, took them out and impaled herself on my dick, balls deep. A delighted sigh came out of her mouth.

Before riding me, she shoved both her fingers in my mouth.

“Suck on this!” she ordered, “delicious, huh?”

We started moving together in a complementary up and down motion. I was surprised by the power of her downward thrusts. She was a genuine cock-craved feline. A loud and steady rhythm of slapping noises echoed through her bedroom every time her ass hit my groin.

Her lewd mouth followed our rhythm: “Oh! Fuck! Yes! Deeper! Harder! Fuck! Me!”

She took my hand and placed it right where it brushed her clitoris with each of her downward motions. With both these stimuli, she stopped moving and threw her head back in ecstasy before long, along with a long hiss through her teeth. Her vaginal walls convulsed around my stiff shaft as she came for the first time this night. I almost came as well from seeing this woman climax and feeling her pussy clenching around my dick as though to milk the seed right out of it.

As she came down from her high, she lay down on my chest, all smiles, and played with the little chest hair I had.

“You didn't come yet? Good boy,” she whispered. She placed her lips right to my ear and added, “Don't worry, Em's fast asleep when she's drunk. But you know what's a real shame?”

I slightly shook my head, and she replied for me, “That there isn't another one just like you to stuff my tight and dirty rear hole as well.”

I swallowed hard, and my cock—not far from my orgasm—twitched again.

She squealed in delight. “Hm... Look who's ready.” She paused. “Since you can't share me with another stud like you... Wanna shove up a plug up my butt instead?”

That was it for me. I exploded inside her, pumping my jizz right up her snatch. My moans—no, my screams—filled the room. Never before had any girl known so well how to trigger such intense orgasms as this one exceptional MILF.

“Yes, that's right! Spray my pussy with your semen!”

Once I was done cumming, she got off my already shrinking dick. Thick drops of my cum fell from her pussy entrance onto my belly.

“Now look at that mess you've made here,” said Sheryl happily smiling, “filling me with cum... Naughty boy. I hope you're up for another round.” She lay down on me to give me an ardent kiss of deepest sexual desire. “But for now, it's my turn to get some pleasure from you.

She crawled up to my head, and sat on my face, her pussy still full of my sticky semen. The first drops of this viscous, salty liquid dribbled into my mouth. I had always thought this was gross, but the taste of our mixed love juices brought me back from my post-orgasmic coma. It even turned me on again to taste this strange, yet familiar mixture. My dick already tried to get back to life although totally flaccid as she ground her crotch on my face.

After a while, I had her lay on her back, for breathing was rather difficult in the given circumstances. She spread her legs in anticipation, but before I let my tongue do its magic between them, I let her taste our mingled juices through a deep. passionate kiss. She kissed me back, sucking on my lips; moaning into my mouth as I penetrated her pussy with two of my fingers. She arched her back as each of my fingers' strokes sent electrifying shivers of pure lust through her body.

She took my head in both her hands and pushed me straight to her privates. I went for her clitoris without any detour; let my tongue circle around it, all the while my fingers were still working her lewd cavity. The combined assault of my fingers and my tongue made her hips gyrate. Her aching cries were like music to my ears. The expression on her face was the most arousing thing I had ever witnessed.

“You horny little bastard!” she moaned. “Now stuff my... ass with... your fingers... too...”

I readily obliged to her command. I lubed the fingers of my free hand with her love juice before inserting first, one in her tight bumhole. It slid in so easily that I instantly inserted another one, causing the expression in her face to light up.

She supported herself on her elbows and looked at me. With lust-widened eyes.

“Yes! Right there! Keep rubbing!“ she cried as I matched the strokes of the fingers of both my hands with the rhythm of my tongue still licking her erect clit. “Keep it right there! Keep it right there! KeepitrightthereKeepitrightthereKeepitrightthere! Oh yes! Oh yes! OhyesOhyesOhyes! Fuck FuckFuckFuckFuckFuuuck!”

She came. Screaming. Shouting.

I let her recover from her ecstasy. Never before had I seen someone come this hard.

She still breathed heavily as I lay down beside her, resting my head on her breasts, slowly running my pussy-juice soaked fingers over her belly. I secretly hoped she'd still be in for that promised other round, as my dick was rock solid again.

She pushed my head onto her chest. “Fuck, that was unbelievable. Are you sure you're not even twenty-five? You're a better licker than my boyfriend.”

I chuckled at her remark.

A little moment passed. It was long enough for me to feel already halfway disappointed, being afraid she might already want to go to sleep. That was when her hand grabbed my cock.

“Lookie there. I already thought you wouldn't be up for the second round.” She paused. “Hey, I bet you never had a girl with tits as big as mine, did you?”

I shook my head no. She smiled and bit her lower lip.

“So I bet you never had a real tit-fuck, huh?”

Again, I shook my head.

“Want to have a real tit-fuck then?”

I nodded.

She smiled. “Good boy.”

This was the moment I realized how perfect her tits actually were. Immaculate.

I got off the bed, on my feet. She kneeled on the floor in front of me and placed her large breasts around my manhood. She moved her whole body up and down, licking the purple head every time it came to her face. Then she took it in her mouth, gently sucking on it, still massaging my shaft with her huge tits. It was a pleasurable feeling, though not as pleasurable as fucking her snatch.

“Sheryl, mmmh, yes!” I tried to say. “Sheryl, stop.”

She did as asked.

“Sheryl, what was that again with your butt plug?”

She grinned. “So you can talk during sex? The butt plug?” Her grin widened some more. “Shove that damn thing up my ass, and fuck me doggy style, filthy boy!”

She got a key from the drawer of her night table. It opened a bigger drawer where she hid all kinds of kinky devices; among others, her butt plug as well. She handed the glass cone to me and got on her bed. On all fours, her perfect ass facing my direction, she wiggled it and threw one sultry glance at me.

I spit on the sex toy a few times and spread my saliva all over it. Just like my fingers before, I could slide it in without much resistance, causing her to welcome the new intruder by a delighted whimper.

“Now get up, and walk around a little, will you?” I ordered, “I wanna see that thing sticking in your ass a little.”

She licked her finger in approval. “You sure are one naughty boy, aren't you?”

She stood up and gave me a little show in the moonlight. Flashing her tush every now and then, granting me a glimpse of her back door filled with her sex toy. From the way she moaned and her face distorted from time to time, I knew some moves stimulated her. I enjoyed the show lying on her bed, slowly stroking my cock. It only lasted a few minutes, but I couldn't have taken it much longer anyway.

She crawled back on the bed towards me. She gave my cock one last lick before turning around and presenting me her ass again. She spread her labia with her fingers.

I shoved my cock into her pussy once more. This time, I felt the glass plug push through the thin wall between both her holes. I knew I wouldn't last very long like this.

“Fuck, Sheryl!”

“You like it when my butt's stuffed. Filthy boy,” she commented over my exclamation.

I reached out to her breasts that were dangling to and fro from our matching thrusts. They felt so soft in my hands, much like two pillows—the true pillows of heaven. I took her nipples between my fingers, twisted them, pulled them. Sheryl's moans approved of my actions.

I let go of her divine melons and stopped moving.

I tried not to sound like a schoolboy when I said, “I can't hold it much longer, but I want to give you the fuck of your life.”

She reached out for the bed rail. “Then fuck me deep and hard, naughty boy.”

I took a deep breath and fucked her as fast and hard as if my life depended on it. Even she was surprised by the power of my thrusts. The whole bed moved under our simultaneous motions. I was about to cum, but I knew what I had to do: I grabbed the base of the but plug, and started plunging that thing in and out of her asshole.

“Oh...” was the calm that came out of her mouth that announced the storm.

I didn't stop moving—neither my dick nor the plug—until her unintelligible screams filled the room. Her muscles contracted uncontrollably around my shaft. She suffered major cramps all over her body as she tensed to a never-before-felt full-body orgasm. I, however, much to my astonishment, didn't come.

She collapsed, her butt still in the air because I held it there. It took her at least ten seconds of near hyperventilation until she gathered her breath again.

Panting, she said, “What... was... that...? Never... felt... so... good... before... And you?”

“Uhm...” I hesitantly replied, completely baffled. “I didn't.”

“ What, you didn't come? I'm not letting you go until you fill that pussy again.”

She reached between her legs where my penis was still buried in her pussy. She cupped my balls, gently massaged them, and slowly gyrated her hips. My whole body went shaking instantly.

The door flung open, as my words matched the exact pace of the contractions in my shaft. “Oh... fuck... She... ryl... I'm... com... ing...”

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Emanuelle shouted, not believing what she had just run into.

Her mother chuckled: “Milking your ex' dick—inside my pussy. Revenge, BITCH!”

----------------

“You guys should have seen her face... Priceless, I tell you! That anger. That disappointment. That disgust. Pure hate.”

Dan emptied his glass, and let go a relieved sigh. A bright smirk flashed across his lips. “Man, feels good to get this off my chest.”

His audience cheered and applauded. He had delivered a worthy story, as promised earlier this night.

Dan pointed his index to the regular that had interrupted him a while ago. “And? Watcha think? Way better than just screwing and dumping her, am I right?”

A satisfied grin flashed across that man's lips as he nodded in approval.

The customers started leaving the tavern one after another. They had got what they had come for. A few minutes later, the tavern was empty save for big ol' Tom, Dan and his most enthusiastic listener.

“Guess you've never heard of her again?” big ol' Tom asked, placing one more refill in front of Dan. “Here, have one last drink on the house. You've earned it.”

“Nah, didn't, and I don't really think I'll ever see her again. Since that night, I'm dead to her as she is to me. Actually, I'm so dead to her that she'd learn the ways of necromancy, kill me, summon me, and kill me again if that were possible. But know what?” Dan paused and leaned in to emphasize his last statement. “I'm proud of it.”