Sunday, July 10, 2011

They Always Come

THEY ALWAYS COME or THE FALL-BACK
SANDRA THE CHAMELEON (SANDRA LONDON/CHICAGO EXXXOTICA 2011)


Hello, I'm September, and I've done a terrible thing.


Maybe more than one thing.


I'll start near the end and work my way back to the start. But for now, let's just say that I considered myself a fairly ethical girl.


Or at least a fairly ethical slut.


I never thought I'd sleep with someone from my personal life who I've known for so very many years.


Not once he got married.

But, damn, in a weird way, it sort of reinforces my own power in the grand scheme of the feminine mystique.


Do I wish I could take it back?


Well, yes and no.


The feeling and the memory is so fresh in my mind.


Fresh on my lips.


Fresh in my throbbing,wet pussy.

However, mentally, it has me in the crux of a moral dilemma.


The wife?


Well, I have also known her for just as long.


You see, we were all schoolmates once.


We stayed in touch, albeit sporadically as time churned on.

And that's the thing.


I remember being a bit miffed when I first learned they had started dating in college. You see, because he was my boyfriend once. And though I harbored no unrequited love for him and didn't want him back, well, I just never saw it coming.


Apparently, she had had her own yearnings for him all throughout our school days and I never knew.  I found this out much later. So, it was kind of mind-blowing to think that someone sharing all the same advanced courses, same set of friends, who attended the same parties, was secretly planning her own take-over.

Well, okay, this sort of thing happens from time to time, sure. But if you only knew the things he and I had done in our school daze. That episode that everyone found out about.


We were scandalized.


And we deserved it.


The sexual deviancy of our youth was in full bloom and on display for everyone to gossip about, hiding their smiles and curious glances.




I thought this might taint the sensiblity of our refined female ilk amongst the 'good kids.'

I knew the boys would never really mind.


I single-handedly fucked every single guy I wanted to, both before AND after "The Event" that nearly jeaopardized our scholastic future.


But we were so good, you see.


In every other way, at least.

Excellent grades, good looking, funny, popular.


All of us.


And, well, maybe that raised his status in her eyes, when everyone found out exactly how audacious we had been.


We all had dreams.

We fulfilled quite a few of them.


All of us.


But she and I, we started out with damn near identical goals.


She ultimately went one way.


Me? I went another.

Sure, I accomplished a hell of a lot.


Anyone who thumbs through my curriculum vitae would have no idea as to what really goes on in secret.


In the dark. On the screen.


Or in a closed room where two consenting adults agree to feign anonymity.

Ah, but who would have envisioned that the lines would blur yet again between reckless abandon and propriety? 

I held out for as long as I could that night. Really, I did.

It was in no way planned. 

I made no effort to doll myself up, stroll seductively before his eyes nor flaunt my tight, lean body and puffy, perky tits. 

Honest. 

But maybe that's what made it all the better. 

And all the worse.

She would cringe if she knew. 

Or maybe she would just block it out, pretending the elephant in the room wasn't squatting directly in her face, reveling in the power of her pink. 

There were so many opportunities to call the whole thing off that night before we agreed to meet face to face. 

Just to "hang out". 

A 'yes' and a 'no'.

A 'wait' and a 'never mind'.

And then a pause. 

And then a text a short while later. 

And we really did "just hang out." 

At first......

~They Always Come~
EROTIC SHORT/FICTION written by SANDRA LONDON
MISTRESS OF THE WILD-SANDRA LONDON JULY 2011 (CHICAGO)


1 comment:

  1. whats that saying shit happens lol besides its always hard(in more ways than one)to resist an angle troy

    ReplyDelete

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