Erotic Stories

by Karolina Rich

  "Hi, Kev," I said nervously. "When are you coming down?"

  "When are you free?"

  "Don't you have work to do?" I asked with a nervous laugh.

  "You know me: the procrastinator. Why do today what you can put off until tomorrow?"

  "Neurodyne wants me to come out there on Monday for orientation," I glanced at the calendar on my laptop. "Then they're sending me to Hawaii from Wednesday until Friday. I'll be off the week after that."

  "Hawaii? Must be nice," Kevin snorted playfully. "I could come in this weekend or the weekend after you get back."

  "I was, um . . . thinking that you might want to come out to Hawaii with me," I stammered. "They're paying for my hotel room, so that would be free . . . it's just . . ."

  "I can afford a plane ticket," he quickly read my mind. My pulse raced.

  We worked out a few more logistical things, then hung up. I gave him my travel itinerary and he promised to get a seat on the same flight.

  Before we hung up, I wanted to say the words. But I couldn't. Instead, all I could manage was, "Miss me, Kev."

  "I already do, Mel."

  * * *

  Over the next two months, we saw as much of each other as we could. When I was offered the job, I was insistent that I would not travel over weekends and that my flights had to be in and out of my hometown airport. The company was surprisingly considerate, but I was still spending way too much time away from my kids.

  The way I saw it, though, I didn't have much of a choice. No other job offers were materialising, and I was being paid fairly well. Kevin flew out to be with me on a couple of trips. As a translator, I was expected to be at all of the company's meetings and attend some after-hours social functions.

  I did manage to get away for a fair amount of time and I quickly found that Kevin was very adept at finding things to do. During the days, he would often disappear on some sightseeing excursion or get on a city bus and explore wherever it was we were. Later, I found out that he often went to visit city missions or orphanages, usually leaving a considerable donation in their offering boxes.

  The one good thing about all the east coast to west coast travel was that I began accumulating frequent-flyer miles at an alarming clip. As winter changed into spring, I started to feel a little bit better about my situation.

  Once again, I was gainfully employed. I began paying down my debts. The travel was taking its toll on my family life, but Kevin's presence seemed to have a steadying influence on me.

  I could still see the puppy love in his eyes. We very rarely talked about our relationship. Mostly we just enjoyed each others's company.

  After one jaunt to Vancouver, instead of going our separate ways in Charlotte or Cincinnati or Atlanta, I went home with Kevin to spend a Thursday night before heading back to my parents's house.

  The two of us met up with some of his friends for dinner. They were all very nice and made a big deal out of him bringing a "girlfriend" along.

  "We thought Kevin made you up," his buddy Mark joked.

  "Yeah, we've been trying to fix Kev up with dates for years," Mark's wife said. "But he never likes the girls we suggest."

  "Why not?" I asked my lover; I was just now getting used to the idea of having a boyfriend. He only shrugged.

  "He won't settle," a third friend scoffed. She was the lead singer in the group we went to see that first time I showed up on his doorstep. I guess she didn't remember me. Of course, she was probably too worried about playing her set than seeing who Kevin was with.

  "We're still waiting for someone to claim the pool," Mark smiled.

  "What pool?" Kevin asked.

  "That's none of your business. I have a feeling I'm going to win, though," his friend laughed. Then he gave me a wink. "I've got to hand it to you, Kev; you've really outdone yourself with Melanie. She is waaaaaaaayyyyyy out of your league."

  "Yeah, Kevin," one of the other guys said. "You out-kicked your coverage in a big way."

  I didn't get the joke, but watching Kevin turn beet-red was worth it.

  His friends continued to give him a hard time and even started calling the two of us "WALL-E" and "EVE". Guess which one of us is which.

  Despite the good-natured ribbing, his friends were very gracious and seemed to readily accept me as Kevin's significant other.

  "So tell us one thing about yourself that Kevin doesn't know," a tall, dark-haired woman asked. Through the snippets of conversation I had overheard, I had pieced together that she and Kevin went to college together. I couldn't figure out if there had been some sort of deeper relationship there, but they seemed close in an odd, platonic way. She had a knack for relating to people and getting them to open up; it certainly worked on me.

  "My parents named me to help with their English," I said after a second.

  Kevin's eyebrow went up. The other conversations around the table stopped to hear the story.

  "When my brother and I were born, my folks supposedly gave us American names to help us fit in," I started. "What they didn't tell me until I was in high school is that they picked my name because of the L sound. In Japanese, there's no L phoneme. So to force themselves to practice, I became Melanie instead of Hitomi or Ikuyo."

  "It must have worked," Kevin laughed. "I don't think I've ever heard them call you 'Merr-ran-ie'."

  I blushed a little, but shared in the group's laughter.

  "Well I'm glad you and Kevin met up again," the same woman said as she reached across the table to pat my hand. "He's been waiting for the right girl for so long and he only says good things about you."

  "All exaggerations, I'm sure," I said.

  She gave me a knowing smile and winked. "Now tell us one thing about Kevin we didn't know before."

  I thought for a second. On one hand, I didn't want to embarrass him too much, but this could also be fun. "When we were in middle school, he started wearing flip-flops. Like every day. Since we lived in Florida, there were only about two months out of the year when it wasn't sandals weather. This continued until we were in . . . what was it? Tenth grade? . . . When he started wearing Tevas—"

  "He still wears those things every damn day in the summer!" Mark said and everyone laughed. Kevin's face flushed.

  Turning, I winked at my lover. "Anyway, because he spent almost four straight years wearing those silly fluorescent green or orange sandals, he's got a gap that's about a quarter inch wide between his big toe and the next one."

  We all had a good laugh. The night wore on and after dinner, we all went our separate ways. Kevin and I drove back to his house. I got familiar hugs from his friends. He got high-fives from his guy friends, and a special—familiar?—hug from the tall, dark-haired woman. I felt a twinge of curiosity (and jealousy), but pushed it out of my mind. Whatever connection they had, she was apparently one of his closest friends, and I had just come back into his life after an eighteen year absence.

  The two of us held hands (like WALL-E and EVE) for the entire drive home.

  "You're friends were very nice," I said as we walked into the house.

  "I told them they had to be on their best behaviour," Kevin tossed his keys on to the table.

  "Or they couldn't run your new girlfriend through the wringer," I finished.

  "Hey, they just wanted to see what you were like." He took me in his arms and pulled me close. We kissed gently in the kitchen.

  "When will you be back?" he asked ruefully.

  "I'm not sure," I replied, not really wanting to address this. But I knew it was going to come up. My flight out was early the next morning and I didn't want to spend much more time away from my kids. The two of us uncomfortably stared off, each waiting for the other to say something first. I took a deep breath. "Mother wants to know when they're going to meet you. Again."

  Kevin looked at me, his eyes wide.

  "I could fly home with you tomorrow." The gears starting turning in his head.

  "I'd like that," I said softly. "At least let me pay for your pla
ne ticket."

  "Not a chance," he said in a way that wasn't dismissive, but nor did he leave the matter up for discussion.

  "No, Kev, I hate that you always pay for everything." My pride took over. "I've got a job now and I don't want you to think that you have to carry the entire financial burden of our relationship."

  "Melanie, I appreciate the thought, but really, I can afford it." He reached into a packet of papers he brought home from dinner. It was then that I remembered the dark-haired woman had given Kevin a binder of folders and envelopes. It took me a second, but my jaw dropped when I saw that he was showing me his investment portfolio. "What did you think of my friend McKayla?"

  "Your friend?"

  "Ex-roommate, actually." Almost instantly, my catty side took over. I felt very angry. Both with him for not telling me earlier and at myself for feeling this way about someone I had just met. He must have seen my reaction because he very quickly added, "Relax, we weren't romantically involved."

  "What was it, then? Friends with benefits?" The words were out of my mouth before I knew I had said them. My insecurities came to the forefront. The woman we were talking about was absolutely drop-dead gorgeous. Not only that, but she was friendly and outgoing. Smart and sexy beyond belief. I couldn't believe for a second that if she and Kevin had lived together, he wasn't all over her.

  "That's not fair," he said softly. A dark look flashed in his eyes. There was a warning in his glare. I backed down. "She was a year behind me at Guilford. We had an apartment for two years when she needed a friend. And no, we never slept together."

  "But you wanted to," I spat.

  He looked away. A wistful smile flashed across his face. "At first, yeah. Everyone wanted to sleep with her. But I'm not her type."

  "What is her type?" I asked incredulously.

  "You are." The words hung over us for a long moment. "I guess in some ways, she is my type: dark hair, pretty . . . didn't know I was in love with her for the longest time . . ."

  I flushed both with embarrassment and at the look Kevin shot me.

  "Another unrequited love, huh?" I reached out and took his hand, as if to apologise.

  "Yeah," he squeezed my hand. "Anyway, we kept in touch after graduation and she's a very successful financial planner. She handles all my investments. McKayla and her wife live out at the beach; we could go visit them some time. They have a daughter who's about Emily's age. You'd like them."

  "I'm sorry for snapping at you, Kevin," I said.

  "That's okay, sweetheart," he said and kissed me on the cheek. "Say, didn't you have a gay boyfriend in college? Yeah, that's what I thought. And didn't you spend a lot of nights cuddled up with him because you both just wanted to share a warm bed without any expectations? Well, that was McKayla and me. She was Will and I was Grace."

  I blushed; there was certainly no refuting his logic. I guess I was also jealous that at a time when I had ignored Kevin, there was someone out there who appreciated everything he had to offer. Even without the sex. I took a deep breath and tried to let it go.

  Kevin smiled knowingly, then flipped through the pages of his portfolio until he got to the summary. My jaw hit the floor when I saw the number. "Don't worry about what these trips cost. Or how much I spend coming out to visit you wherever you are. I've got money to spare."

  Seeing me at a loss for words, he calmly explained how he had come into so much money and what his long-term investment strategy was, even in an economy that was in the tank. He and McKayla had a plan that was built to weather the storm and the two of them had enough foresight to pull out of the stock market before the bottom fell out.

  As he talked, I didn't know what to say. For me, it complicated things. Sure I knew that a round-trip ticket to Honolulu or London or Tokyo was chump change to Kevin. But what did it mean for us? Was I after him just for his money? Or could I get past that?

  After all, Kevin told people a lie about his career to fend off the gold diggers, but here he was showing me what he was worth. He didn't drive a flashy new car or live in a big, expensive mansion, yet he could probably fund a junta in a small South American country if he wanted to. Or buy Iceland.

  And there I was . . . recently unemployed. Up to my eyeballs in debt. Two kids. Living at home with my parents.

  What am I going to do?

  He talked for a few minutes, but my mind was swimming. His next words snapped me out of my reverie.

  "My parents want to meet you, too," Kevin said.

  "And what do we tell them?" I asked.

  "The truth," he said simply. It had always been that easy for him. In my mind, I was trying to figure out the best way to approach his folks as someone who hadn't seen their son in eighteen years, had two kids and was suddenly showing up on his doorstep now that he wasn't a gawky teenage kid and had made a fortune as a computer programmer.

  Kevin, on the other hand, was his always drama-free self. Simply tell the truth. No bullshit. No spin. No excuses.

  "How will they feel about me?" I asked insecurely.

  "They'll be happy to see you again," he replied. "And I think Mom knows about us."

  "Did you say anything to her?"

  "No, she saw you at the airport when we flew home back in January," Kevin smiled. "She figured me out pretty quick."

  "Yeah, moms are pretty good at that." I shifted uncomfortably. "So . . . um, what do you think they'll say?"

  "Not a thing," he said in a comforting way. "They'll just be happy that there might be a chance that I won't die alone."

  We shared a nervous laugh.

  The two of us sat back on the couch. I fidgeted for a second, then took a deep breath. I guess now was as good a time as any to have "the talk."

  "Kev," I started tentatively. "Are you okay with us? I mean, the way we're going?"

  "Of course," he said.

  "Well, if you're going to meet my parents, that also means you're going to be meeting my kids," I wrung my hands. "They're a package deal with me. And not only that, you're always going to be second behind them. I won't apologise for that and it doesn't mean you're not important to me. But my kids come first in everything."

  "I understand," he said sincerely. I don't think he quite appreciated the implications of what I was saying, but he appeared to understand.

  "So you don't mind having a girlfriend with a seven year-old and a three year-old?"

  "Naw, not as long as that girl is you," he wrapped his arms around me. "Besides, I like women with kids . . . it means they put out."

  With a snort, I attacked him with a shower of pokes, playful punches and tickles. Soon, we were both laughing and collapsed on top of one another. He cried "uncle" not too much later.

  Then he picked me up in his arms, took me back to his bedroom and it was my turn to beg for mercy.

  * * *

  The next weekend was a whirlwind for me.

  We woke up the next morning and drove to the airport, but not before taking a shower together. As we dressed, Kevin threw me down on the bed and fucked me like a wild man. Only instead of cumming inside me, he pulled out and left a thick load of cum on my belly. We didn't have time to shower again, so he rubbed it in to my skin. I spent the rest of the day knowing that I was going to have to face my parents and children, as well as his parents, with Kevin all over me. It was both embarrassing and kind of hot at the same time.

  I called him an "evil, evil man" but he only laughed wickedly and smacked me on the backside.

  Kevin cashed in some of his frequent flyer miles and the two of us flew home.

  He caught a cab and went to visit with his parents. I told him that my parents wouldn't approve of me just showing up on their doorstep with him. They were, after all, still a little traditional. When I got home, I greeted the kids then took my mother aside and told her that Kevin insisted on meeting them again after eighteen years.

  She looked a little shocked and was somewhat dismayed at the short notice, but she didn't object. Then I had to take a deep b
reath and break the news to my father. He seemed to take it well.

  "I knew you had someone special in your life, Melanie," he told me. "You have been much happier lately."

  Basically, I gave Father the short version of my whirlwind romance with Kevin, and stuck to his lie about being a community college professor. Like Mother, Father has his biases against community colleges, but his recollections of Kevin were uniformly positive and he was pleased that my new boyfriend had done well for himself (if only he knew!). It helped that Kevin had earned a Ph.D. from a "respectable" school.

  Then it was the hardest part for me: breaking the news to my kids. I told them that an old friend of mine was coming to dinner. I didn't explain any details, only that Kevin was very special to me. They also handled it well; I think being around their father and his girlfriends made it easier for me to introduce someone to them.

  About mid-afternoon, I drove over to Kevin's house and sat down with his parents. There were butterflies in my stomach, but their friendly demeanor immediately put me at ease. Very simply, Bud and Carla Westcott are the two nicest people on the planet.

  Both remembered me coming over infrequently to work on a school project with Kevin. They asked about my parents and my brother. They said they couldn't wait to meet my children.

  Kevin's dad Anthony (no one ever called him that, though; when he was in the Army, someone started calling him "Bud" and it stuck) was a retired banker by trade, so he and I compared notes about the business. His mother was a child welfare advocate and despite all the reasons for her to be jaded and cynical at life, she was without a doubt the kindest person I had ever met. I could tell they doted on Kevin and realised that it was because of them that he had become such a good person.

  We left right before dinner with promises of meeting again the next day for lunch.

  "They really like you," Kevin said as we got in my car. I was in the passenger's seat, having coaxed him into driving.

  "They're very nice," I said, taking his hand.

  "Mom wants to know what took me so long to find you again."