Here You Come Again (And Again)

Author's Note: The following is a work of fiction. All participants in sexual activities are over the age of eighteen and enthusiastically consenting. This story contains some anal play including the use of a butt plug. Enjoy!

__________

HERE YOU COME AGAIN (AND AGAIN)

by Eosphorus

"Open afresh your rounds of starry folds,

Ye ardent Marigolds." - John Keats

PROLOGUE: AUGUST 1999

She's all over him the moment they're through the front door. Kissing him, pulling him close.

He's caught off guard, but only for a moment. He wraps his arms around her, gathering her in. Her feel, her taste. Her scent!

He's wanted this all summer. Since that first day of work. Flirting, joking around. Catching her looking his way. Getting caught looking hers.

But... hesitation. She's only eighteen. Fully legal but four years younger than him. An awfully big gap at their age. Or not.

Then tonight. She asked if he could drive her home. Her car was in the shop. Mentioned her parents being out of town. Invited him inside to show him something.

Now this. They make her way into her bedroom, stripping off each other's clothes. Hands fumbling with buttons. A bra unclasped, panties slid down.

They fall into bed. She's uninhibited. Aggressive, even. Pushing him onto his back. Placing her hands on both sides of his face and kissing him deep. Then sucking his cock. Devouring it would be more accurate. Hard sucking while fingering herself. Then climbing atop him. Riding him hard. She comes screeching and moaning. His cock throbs inside her not long after.

A second round begins after a few minutes rest. More eager fucking. Instant sexual connection. Like they can read each other's minds.

They lay together after.

"What happens now?" she asks.

Good question. In a few days they go back to school. Five hours away in opposite directions.

He doesn't know what to say. What can he say? "I don't know. If it's meant to be, we'll run into each other again."

It's bullshit and he knows it. So does she.

___________

OCTOBER 2023

Twenty four years.

She looks incredible. Her smile, her long brown hair. And those eyes, as bright and dazzling as ever though now behind fashionable eyeglasses.

They hug. Her closeness brings with it a flood of memories. Instant arousal, also.

Think of it! Marigold, back in town. Standing in his store. Looking better than anybody has a right to.

She breaks off the hug. "Damn, Jeff, you look great."

"So do you."

"I'm sorry I'm late," she says. "I was looking at a house down the street."

"Thinking of moving back home?"

"Hope so," she says. "I could never afford to until now."

Their eyes meet again. There's an awkward silence. "This is my store."

Smooth. Real smooth.

She grins. "I love it! Imagine my surprise when I learned you were the owner."

"Imagine my surprise when I learned you were coming." Jeff gestures towards the shelf of current bestsellers. "The legend herself."

She walks over to the display. Jeff gets a longer look at her. She's in a lavender sweater, black tights, and tan boots. She's rounded-out a bit and pleasantly so. Grown into a short, curvy MILF with an ample bosom and a soft derrière.

Exactly like the main character in her book. How interesting.

"Can I confess something?" she asks.

Anything. "Sure."

"I've been going out of my way," she says. "Visiting bookstores whenever I can."

"As a bookstore owner, I endorse that practice."

She runs her fingers over the copies of her book. "I seek it out on the shelves. It's like a dream."

So is crossing paths with you again.

She pulls a copy off the shelf. "It's hard to believe my name's on the cover." She turns it over. "Or the 'About the Author' is about me."

"That must be wild."

"Listen to it. 'Marigold Martin is a first time author who makes her home in Syracuse, New York. She lives there with her daughter and three cats.' That's surreal."

One kid, three cats. No mention of a husband. "It must take some getting used to."

She replaces the book. "It does. Same as being back in town."

"It was weird for me when I moved back. I didn't expect to start a bookstore."

"It's the most beautiful one I've ever seen. Wasn't this an insurance agency or something back when?"

"A bank before that. Can I show you something cool?"

Marigold nods. "Always!"

He walks her to the science fiction section. "We call it the Vault."

Marigold's face lights up and it's like a sunburst. "It's an actual bank vault."

"Isn't it cool?"

Jeff never tires of showing people. The massive door is propped open behind a table displaying an assortment of puzzles for sale. Inside are three walls of books from floor to ceiling.

"You know, it was robbed once," he says. "During the Depression."

"A bookstore with lore!" Marigold steps into the Vault. "You know, I don't think I've ever been in a vault before."

"There's a first time for everything."

Marigold gives him a mischievous smirk. "There is indeed. Where's the interview taking place?"

"We'll have to use the Metedeconk Theater across the street. We sold four hundred tickets."

Marigold steps out of the Vault. "These crowds."

"You can imagine the hype," he says. "Homegrown author, and all. We'll keep the interview to an hour. The signing, too."

Marigold shakes her head. "I'll stay for as long as it takes to sign every book. I have zero plans for the evening."

Sybil emerges from the back room. "You must be Marigold. I'm Sybil. We spoke on the phone."

They shake hands, making a remarkable pair. Sybil is short and squat with buzzed hair, lots of piercings, and huge tits. She's also wearing a hot pink t-shirt emblazoned with the words "Lesbian AF."

Sybil sits Marigold down at one of tables in the coffee bar, diving into every detail of the evening. She stops abruptly, turning to Jeff. "What the hell are you doing standing around like a big dope? Looking like a beach bum, too. We're recording in an hour! Shower and get dressed."

"I'm going, I'm going." Jeff heads towards the stairs.

He pauses, glancing back. After all these years, huh? Marigold waltzing right in the door. Looking at him with those eyes of a brighter green than he's ever seen. Damn.

__________

Marigold takes a deep breath.

She can do this. She's done this before. Dozens of times.

Yeah, but never here. In front of so many people who know her.

"You sure there's nothing you need before you go on?" Sybil asks.

Marigold hears the steady murmur of the crowd on the other side of the curtain. Butterflies flutter in her stomach. "Once things start, I calm right down."

"Don't worry. Jeff's great at putting people at ease."

No doubt! Those eyes of his alone could do the trick. Or get her worked up. She's never met anyone else with that particular shade of blue.

Jeff strolls in.

Sybil rolls her eyes. "About time."

He's changed into jeans and a dark green sweater. It shows off his build better than the hoodie and shorts he had on before.

Damn, he's kept in shape.

There's a sudden warmth between her legs. Great! Just what she needs, going on stage both nervous and horny.

"Ready to do this?" Jeff asks.

Marigold nods.

He places a hand on her shoulder. Her pulse races. "You'll be great."

Jeff steps through the curtain onto the stage. The crowd applauds.

He sits on one of the stools in front of the microphone and puts on his headset. "Good evening, everyone."

He introduces himself and the store. "This is a special live episode of Author Encounter, the podcast where we encounter authors. Today's author is Marigold Martin. I wonder if you've heard of her."

Enthusiastic cheering. Marigold's hands tremble.

"This is something of a homecoming for Marigold," he says. "She spent most of her childhood and teen years here before moving away. How about that, a local celebrity?"

More cheering follows.

"It's not every day a new author catches fire like she has. Her debut novel, Lucyanne Travers, Superspy, has been praised for combining elements of the traditional spy thriller, comedy, and erotica. Let's welcome Marigold Martin to Author Encounter!"

Raucous cheering erupts.

And here I go! Marigold strides out. The audience rises from their seats en masse.

How is this her life? Every appearance overflowing with fans. Her fans. She scans the audience. Looks like it's about three-quarters women.

Marigold takes a seat and puts on her headset. She takes another deep breath.

You got this, girl. You got this.

Jeff makes eye contact. Instant calmness.

"Full disclosure for the audience," Jeff says. "As my regular listeners know, I also grew up here. Then twenty years in Philly before moving back and opening Encounter Books here in sleepy Geil's Landing, New Jersey. Marigold and I worked together one summer at Carlo's Pizzeria Grill a block from here. This interview is sort of a reunion of old friends."

Old friends? That's one way to describe it! Then again, he can't just announce to his entire audience how the two of them fucked that one time.

"Good evening, Marigold," Jeff says. "Thanks for coming on."

"Thank you for the opportunity."

"Your book certainly is a unique blend," he says. "I've heard it described as heralding the birth of a new genre."

Marigold shakes her head. "I don't know about that. My book's good, silly fun. I don't expect it to change the world."

"Fair enough. Yet this strange mix works, doesn't it? At least in your hands. Suspenseful and tense on one page, side-splitting funny on the next." He pauses. "Arousing on the third."

She shrugs. "What can I say? I'm a Renaissance woman."

"The real question everyone's asking is where do you get your inspiration from?"

Interviewers always ask that. "The truth?"

The audience cheers.

"I was on a business trip to London," she says. "He was ten years younger, like in the book."

Encouraging hoots come from the crowd.

"So the beginning was inspired by a real life experience?" Jeff asks.

"The first ten pages are basically non-fiction. The hotel bar, the Indian restaurant, the stroll along the Thames..."

"Then Daniel's a real person?"

"He's inspired by the guy I went out with," she says. "But everything else is made up."

"The spicier parts of the book," Jeff asks. "Were those also inspired by this mystery man?"

That's the first time an interviewer has asked that particular question. She's gotten that one from her readers plenty.

Here goes. "It most definitely was."

Delighted gasps ring out.

"Is the mystery man aware of this?" Jeff asks.

"Very much so."

"Is he a current romantic interest?" Jeff asks.

"No. I'm not romantically attached right now."

Jeff raises an eyebrow ever so slightly. The hint of a smile appeals on his lips. As if that's the answer he hoped for.

"Besides," Marigold adds. "Between the book tour, my daughter, and working on my next book, I don't have the bandwidth for a relationship."

Their eyes meet again for a passing moment. A tingle runs down her back.

"Let's talk about that," Jeff says. "How are you managing to balance it all? How has life changed since this book took off?"

"How hasn't it?" Marigold tells her story. A divorced mom just turned forty dating now and then. Devouring spy novels. Yearning to write one. "I spent months trying to write a traditional story. It was going nowhere fast."

Jeff smiles. "Until London?"

"I thought to myself, 'why can't this be the premise?' Someone just like me, thrust into the world of international espionage on a blind date."

"And you were off and running."

"And thus was born Lucyanne Travers. A divorced mom in her forties. Short with plenty of curves. Sexy as hell."

Prolonged cheers ensue.

"That's an angle which has garnered a ton of attention, hasn't it?" Jeff says. "Especially the curvy aspects of Lucyanne Travers. A well-known podcaster had some terrible things to say I won't repeat."

"I'm a size eighteen, same as Lucyanne. Sixty-eight percent of American women wear a size fourteen or bigger. But if you dare write a woman like that as sexy, people freak out. I think Lucyanne and I look pretty good. Whattya say?"

Sustained cheering and supportive clapping follows.

"I have a steadfast rule," Marigold continues. "I don't let anyone rent space in my head. This whole obsession with strict adulation of a given body type is nonsense. Skinny, athletic, plus-sized, BBW, be you!"

Sustained cheering ensues.

Jeff looks deep into her eyes. "I'd say our audience agrees. As do I."

The interview goes on. Jeff queries her about her writing style and the minutiae of plot development. There's a shout-out to her high school English teacher Mrs. Lewis sitting in the front row choking back tears. Marigold steps down from the stage and hugs her to thunderous applause.

The whole thing feels like five minutes, her initial trepidation long since gone. It's like she can tell Jeff anything. Well, almost. He tries to get her to reveal details of her follow-up novel. All he has to do is smile that smile and there go her defenses.

Somehow, she resists. But she doesn't think she could deny him much else.

___________

Sybil signals to him they have five minutes remaining.

He nods. "We like to conclude every episode by having the author read a favorite passage from their work. I'm sure you've selected one."

Marigold smiles. "I have."

"Go right ahead."

Marigold picks up a copy of her book. She clears her throat.

"They stumble towards the bed, hands all over each other. Tongues dancing."

A thrilled gasp fills the auditorium. Jeff grins ear-to-ear. She's going there, isn't she? Damn right!

"No need to rush. Not with a woman like this in his arms. So many curves!

He's been with plenty of women, but can any match Lucyanne? She's got it all. Beauty, brains, playful sense of humor. And what a body!

Lucyanne peels his sweater up and over his head. His t-shirt follows.

Her eyes widen as she stares at his bare torso. 'Nice.'

They resume kissing, Lucyanne's hands run down his back."

The audience is deathly silent, hanging on every word.

"He raises an eyebrow. 'You need to catch-up.'

'Then catch me up.'

'Gladly.' He slides her shawl off her shoulders. It falls noiselessly to the floor."

Jeff stares at Marigold's lips while she reads. Damn. They're so soft, so expressive.

"He seeks out the zipper on the back of her dress. She turns around, lifting her hair.

He kisses the nape of her neck.

Lucyanne gasps.

He kisses her neck again. Two, three, four more kisses.

'Keep doing that,' she moans.

He obliges her. Squeezes her breasts from behind, also.

'Nibble my neck,' she whispers.

Daniel gives her neck a nibble. She cries out, inhaling sharply.

He backs off, unzipping her dress. Lucyanne wiggles out of it, down to bra and panties.

She turns around and his jaw drops. What a vision!

'Keep going,' he says.

Lucyanne shakes her head. 'You first.'

He stares at her. She gazes right back, eyes brimming with lust.

Daniel undoes the front of his pants. He pushes them down, stepping out of them.

'Much better,' she says.

May as well go all-in. He pushes his boxers down.

Lucyanne's eyes double in size."

Marigold closes the book.

_________

It goes on longer than any signing Jeff's ever hosted. Two hours plus. Marigold chats with every fan. Plenty of old friends, too. Personalizing copies, posing for photos. Radiant smile on her face the entire time.

Marigold keeps glancing his way and smiling.

Sybil sidles up next to him. "I can't recall seeing you so happy at a signing."

"Why not? We hosted the hottest new author of the year and sold four hundred books plus the tickets for the event."

Sybil smirks. "Hottest new author of the year, huh?"

"What're you implying?"

"That monetary gain isn't the only thing you're thrilled with tonight," Sybil says. "Hoping to rekindle things after all these years?"

He shrugs. "Is that so crazy?"

"She's into you," Sybil says.

"You think so?"

Sybil smirks. "Seriously, dude? The glances, the giggles. Straight chicks are transparent when they've got the hots for a guy. I thought you said you two only fucked once."

"Yeah."

"You must've made some impression," Sybil says. "Don't worry. Leave it all to me, my friend."

"What're you planning?"

Sybil smiles, turning away.

The last book is signed, the last fan gone. The theater staff starts closing things up.

"That went well," Marigold says.

Jeff nods. "Easily one of the best episodes we've ever done."

"Let's celebrate," Sybil says. "Hungry?"

Marigold nods. "Does Carlo's still have the best thin crust at the Shore?"

"Always," Sybil says. "They have great martinis, too."

"Vodka martinis are my favorite," Marigold says. "Same as Lucyanne Travers."

"I had a feeling," Sybil says.

Marigold glances at her watch. "Give me five minutes to Facetime my daughter before my mom tucks her in."

Jeff smiles. Take all the time you need.

_________

Marigold shakes her head. Who says you can't go home?

Carlo's has barely changed. Same old school decor, same linoleum floor. Flatscreens playing Sunday Night football now line the wall above the bar, but that's it. Aside from that, it could be 1999.

Several tables turn their heads towards them. Marigold recognizes many as attendees from tonight.

A pretty waitress Marigold's age greets them. "Hey Jeff, hey Sybil!"

"Hey Caroline," Jeff says.

Caroline sits the three of them at a bistro table near the bar. She gives Jeff a lingering smile. "The usual?"

Jeff glances at Marigold. "Actually, how about three vodka martinis?"

"You got it," Caroline says.

Sybil picks up her phone, shaking her head. "You'd better make it two. I gotta go."

"Everything all right?" Jeff asks.

Sybil stands. "A bat got into the garage and Linda's panicking. You guys stay. Enjoy yourselves."

Marigold stifles a giggle. A bat in the garage? That's the best she can come up with? No matter. Sybil's done her part well. First, the invitation, then the quick exit. Now it's just her and Jeff's beautiful blue eyes over a couple of martinis.

"I guess it's just us," Jeff says after Sybil leaves.

Time for a little fun. "Are you sure you still wanna?"

The color drains out of his face. "Yeah. I mean, if you do."

Why is she so evil? Better back off or she might scare him away. "Well, I am famished. And we've already ordered drinks. Might as well."

"Might as well."

Yeah, he still has the hots for her. No doubt. Now begins the dance. The flirting, the furtive glances. The mounting anticipation.

Caroline returns with their drinks. "Anything to eat?

Jeff grins at Marigold. "Large with mushrooms?"

He remembered. "Yup!"

"Got it!" Caroline goes to put in their order.

Marigold picks up her glass. "What shall we drink to?"

"Resuming old friendships?"

If that's what you want to call it.

They raise their glasses and take a sip.

"You know," Marigold says. "You interviewed me, learned all about my life since I moved away. But I know nothing of yours. Only what you said on the show. Or what I can intuit."

"And what can you intuit?"

Marigold studies him. "Let's see. You still like bicycling."

"What gives you that idea?"

"The lean build, your well-developed calves. It was hard not to notice them when you were in shorts before."

He smiles. "That so?"

"And, if I'm being completely honest," she says. "There was a bike behind the counter of the store."

"How'd you know it wasn't Sybil's?"

"Seriously? She'd need a stepstool to get on it." Marigold sips her drink. She takes out the skewer and bites off an olive, taking her time. Making sure he watches her pluck it off with her lips.

"What else do you see?" he asks.

"You like to read. Who owns a bookstore that doesn't? And you're an extrovert. That's always been the case."

"True, on both counts. Kinda obvious, though."

Marigold raises an eyebrow. "Kinda obvious? How's this? You live a mile from the beach but hate the sun."

"How do you know that?"

"It's early October and you've no trace of a summer tan." Marigold takes his hand and turns it over, exposing the whiteness of his wrist. "See?"

There's a long pause before she pulls her hand back.

She studies his face. He's still handsome as hell. The boyish charm abides, tempered by decades of living. The same short blonde hair is now flecked with gray.

He looks around. "You know, we met in this room."

"We did."

They dive into reminiscing about their summer working at Carlo's. The people. The customers. How everyone working there seemed to be fucking someone else working there.

She shakes her head. "After all these years, here we are again."

"It's something, isn't it?"

What have you got to lose? Just ask him. "Do you ever think about that night?"

"How could I not?"

"We were so young," she says. "Not so much, anymore."

"I don't think forty-three and forty-seven are so old."

"I suppose not." Marigold sips her drink. "But back to you. Where's life taken you?"

He sips his drink. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything."

"Where to begin? Got married and divorced. Spent nearly twenty years as a firefighter in Philly. "

Marigold didn't see that coming. "What? Wow. You must have some stories."

"I do. I miss it."

Marigold frowns. "Why'd you leave?"

"Got hurt on duty," he says. "Falling debris."

"No!"

"Fractured skull," he says. "Broken collar bone, broken hip."

"That's terrible."

He sips his drink. "My firefighting days were over. There I was, forty-something and no idea what to do with my life. Divorced with a preteen son who didn't understand me."

"How'd you go from injured firefighter to bookstore owner?"

"Three things I'd always loved were biking, books, and the beach. But I only like the beach in the early morning, before the sun's too strong. Or in the dead of winter when it's a vast expanse of white."

Marigold nods. He's become such a fascinating man.

"That's when I bought the bookstore," he says. "Sybil and me. She's my cousin, actually. We--"

Caroline returns with their pizza.

Marigold eyes grow wide. "I've missed this!"

They blow on their slices and wait for them to cool before digging in. Every bite is as perfect as she remembers.

"You were telling me about opening the bookstore," Marigold says.

"Sybil and I inherited the building from our grandfather. We decided to put a bookstore on the ground level and remodel the apartments above it. My loft is above them on the third floor."

"Over the store?" Marigold says. "How cool."

"It came out really nice, actually."

Was that an invite to come check it out? Perhaps it's best not to take the bait. Not yet. Let him work for it a little more. "How'd you come up with the idea for the podcast?"

"To promote the store," he says. "Next thing you know we're getting the likes of Marigold Martin."

She rolls her eyes. "Little old me?"

Conversation drifts to Marigold's book tour. Where she's been, where she's headed next.

Caroline returns. "How's everything?"

"Fantastic," Jeff says.

Caroline turns to Marigold. "You're Marigold Martin, aren't you? I couldn't go to your talk, but I really enjoyed your book."

"Know what?" Marigold says. "I'm gonna go back to the store and sign a copy for Jeff to give you."

Marigold glances at Jeff. He's doing a poor job of concealing a smile. He processed it, didn't he? Yeah. The fact that they'll be going back to the store. The one she knows he lives above.

"Really?" Caroline says. "That'd be amazing! Another round?"

One martini has lowered her inhibitions. Two so soon might dull her senses. Can't have that.

.

"No, thank you," Marigold says.

Caroline leaves. Marigold takes a bite of pizza. "This has brought back so many memories. I was already leaning towards making an offer on the house, but this cinches it."

"You'd already have a few friends in town," he says.

"I would."

Does he have the slightest idea how horny she is? Will he make his move, or must she?

Caroline returns with the check. Before Jeff can react, Marigold hands Caroline her credit card. "I've got this."

"Are you sure?" Jeff protests.

Marigold shrugs. "It's something I like to do. A lady can buy a guy dinner now and then, can't she?"

"I recall Lucyanne Travers picking up the check, too. You really are her."

"I'm Lucyanne Travers, and Lucyanne Travers is me. Except she has adventures I don't and some I do."

A mischievous glint appears in his eyes. "Which are the adventures she has that you don't?"

"I'm not a spy, for one thing. If you'll excuse me. I'd like to use the restroom before we go back to the store."

Marigold heads to the lady's room. She uses the toilet and does a quick touch-up to her make-up. She smiles at her reflection. Her and Jeff, after all these years? Crazier stuff has occurred.

_________

Jeff glances Marigold's way. No matter the angle or the light, she's gorgeous.

Sybil was right. Marigold's still interested in him. The glances, the smiles. Bringing up their night together. Now heading back to the store to sign a book.

It's odd. Caroline's not only an occasional lover, she's also a regular customer. One who only reads science fiction. Funny she never mentioned Marigold's book even though the sign advertising tonight has been up for a month.

Why do I detect the workings of a certain lesbian wingman?

He keys in the alarm code and opens the front door, switching on the lights.

Marigold takes a copy of her book off the shelf. Jeff grabs a marker from behind the counter for her.

"Can I offer you anything?" He asks as she signs it. "Coffee? Perhaps something stronger?"

"I'd love another martini if you have the ingredients."

Perfect set-up. "They're upstairs."

"Let's head on up." Marigold offers him her hand.

He takes it. "Let me show you something even cooler than the Vault."

Jeff leads her past the rows of bookshelves. To a door in the back of the shop.

"What's this?" Marigold asks.

"A hundred year old elevator," he says.

"Should I be worried?"

Beyond is a small room currently serving as a utility closet. Along one wall are the art deco brass doors of the elevator.

"It's perfectly safe." They step inside. He slides the doors closed. Turning the handle on the control panel, the elevator lifts them into the air. "Left goes up. Right goes down."

Marigold squeezes his hand. "Do you always choose this over stairs?"

"Why not? I've only gotten stuck three or four times."

She gives him a horrified glance.

"I'm joking," he says. "This is a precision machine. Built to last."

Marigold clutches his arm. "If you say so."

They reach the third floor. Jeff glides the elevator to a perfect, smooth stop. He opens the door and turns on the lights. Most of his place is one long open space. Living room, dining area, and kitchen. A pair of bedrooms and his bathroom are in the back. Beyond is the rooftop deck and garden.

"What do you think?" Jeff asks.

Marigold walks towards the window overlooking the street and turns around. Her eyes sweep upward towards the ceiling then across towards the kitchen. "So minimalist and uncluttered, Ultra-modern decor but the moulding and brickwork respect the building's history."

"That's very insightful."

Marigold runs her hand along the back of his couch. "Then there's your choice of furniture. All right-angles and leather. It screams 'a man--and only a man--lives here.' I like it. And those cabinets are gorgeous!"

"Actually," he says. "Remember my sister Sandy? She did them."

"Cool! How's she doing?"

"She has a carpentry business and a much younger boyfriend," he says.

"Sounds like my kind of girl. Now, didn't you promise me a drink?"

"I did." He goes into the kitchen and retrieves a pair of martini glasses, placing them on the island. Bottles of vodka and vermouth follow.

She follows him. "Podcaster, business owner, craftsman. What else are you good at?"

Don't tell me you don't remember. "I'm a helluva cook."

Marigold smiles slyly. "Yeah?"

"Olives are in the fridge behind you. Middle shelf."

Marigold raises an eyebrow. She opens the fridge and produces the olives, plunking them down on the island.

Jeff hands her the shaker. "If you could fill this with ice."

She uses the dispenser in the fridge door to fill it with ice. She places the shaker back on the island.

"I know I have skewers around somewhere," he says.

Marigold picks up the vodka. "Allow me. You locate them."

He opens multiple drawers before he finds them. Marigold finishes pouring the vodka into the shaker, adding a splash of vermouth

She puts the top back on the shaker and picks it up. "May I?"

"Go right ahead."

A devilish smirk appears on her face. "Do you know the secret to a good martini?"

"I bet you do."

"It's all about the shake." Marigold holds his gaze, jerking the shaker up and down. A constant, steady motion. Her smirk widens to a grin.

"That ought to do it." Marigold fills their glasses. Her tits press against the island as she leans forward pouring.

Marigold opens the jar of olives and picks up one of the skewers. She holds the skewer between her fingers, pointing it straight up. Looking directly at Jeff, she places the olive onto the tip of the skewer and slides it down to the base.

"I love the moment the skewer penetrates the olive," Marigold says.

"I never thought about it."

She slides more olives onto the skewer. "Each of the olives easing their way down its length. Impaled up on it."

Marigold places the skewer in Jeff's drink, pushing it towards him.

He waits till she finishes making her own. She takes her time, sliding each olive down the skewer into place. Looking into his eyes the whole time. Licking her lower lips.

She places the skewer into her martini. "Why don't we make it dirty?"

He raises an eyebrow.

Marigold pours a tiny amount of olive brine into his glass. She stirs it in with the skewer, deliberately slow. Staring at him.

She repeats the process with her own drink. "What can I say? Sometimes I'm in a dirty mood."

"Nothing wrong with that."

"Do you know why they put olives in martinis?" she asks.

"Nope, but I'm sure you're going to tell me."

Marigold sits at the stool next to him. "They complement the vermouth but, most of all, they balance out the drink's intensity."

Jeff picks up his drink. They clink their glasses and take a sip.

"Don't you love the way a splash of vermouth softens the bite of the vodka?" Marigold says. "Reigns it in."

Jeff takes a sip. "You've thought about this a lot."

"There may be an extended scene involving martinis in my next book." She sips her drink. "That's a little spoiler for you."

"Really?" he asks.

"Picture it. A cafe in Paris, late at night. Our heroine's a first grade teacher on her dream trip to the City of Lights. A charming but mysterious spy needs her help. There's a pair of martinis and a sexual charge in the air."

"What happens next?"

Marigold places her glass down. "That depends. It's a little early in the book for them to do it. Gotta tease the reader a bit, you know."

"Build up the tension."

"Drive 'em crazy," she says.

He raises an eyebrow.

Marigold's eyes gleam. "Until it's too intense to take anymore."

"Then what?"

She places her hand on his knee. "You make them suffer. Throw up obstacles."

"Doesn't that torture them?"

Marigold moistens her lips. Her hand slides up his thigh and she leans forward. "That's the secret. The readers want to be tortured."

His pulse quickens, a shiver running across his shoulders. "Do you think that's what I want?"

"Maybe a little," she whispers. "If this was one of my books, this is the part when we're attacked."

"Yeah? Assassins bursting through the door right as we're about to kiss?"

"Rappelling down from a helicopter and crashing through the window is better. More over the top. But preventing us from kissing all the same."

"I don't hear a helicopter."

"Then what's to stop us from kissing?" Marigold stares into his eyes.

"Nothing."

Marigold raises an eyebrow. She leans forward. "In one sense, we hardly know each other. Not these versions of ourselves."

"Does that matter?"

She shakes her head. "Not tonight."

They lean towards one another. Inching closer. Lips meet.

At last!

Their kissing picks up. Lips part, tongues twirl.

They back off, coming up for air.

"Well!" Marigold says. "I'm glad we finally got that out the way."

"And no helicopter."

Marigold laughs. "Now we can move on."

He nods. "I'd like that."

"Tell me what you want. Or should I tell you what I want?"

"You don't seem like the shy type," he says.

"Why fuck around? We're here, we're horny, let's have at it."

They kiss. Lips and tongues all over each other. He gathers her in, holding her close to him.

He takes her by the hand and leads her to his bedroom. It's dark inside but he switches on a lamp. Marigold pulls him towards her. They makeout standing next to his bed. Backing off, she peels his sweater up and over his head. Just like in the passage she read aloud.

"Now we're getting somewhere," she says.

His t-shirt joins his sweater on the floor. She runs her eyes over him. "Here's what Mama likes. Damn."

His arousal surges, the bulge in his jeans aching. This goddess, lusting after him?

Marigold falls back into his arms. He clutches her as tight as he can. His bare skin pressing against her sweater. She glances down. "Keep going."

"You really are Lucyanne Travers." Jeff unzips his jeans and wiggles out of them. He peels off his socks, staring back at her. Taking his time. Teasing her.

Marigold shakes her head. "No more dilly-dallying. Drop the boxers."

"But--"

Marigold gives him a stern look. "Drop 'em!"

As you wish.

He pushes his boxers down. His mostly-erect cock springs free. Marigold takes it in hand. It swells to rock-hardness at her touch. She smiles, nodding. "My memory was correct."

"I want you naked," he says.

"Then get to it."

Don't need to tell me twice.

Off goes her sweater. A white button-down is underneath. He unbuttons it, staring into her eyes. One button. Two, three, four. Finally sliding her shirt off her shoulders.

Marigold steps back, unzipping her boots and kicking them off. She wiggles out of her tights and is down to black bra and panties.

Marigold strikes a pose, hand on hip. "Like what you see?"

Her body is everything he could've hoped for. Delightfully curvy.

"So fucking much," he says. "Now ditch the bra and panties."

Marigold twists the front of her bra and shrugs it off her shoulders. Revealing a pair of big, full tits. Topped with bright pink areola and inviting, erect nipples.

"Damn," he whispers.

Marigold pushes her panties down. She steps out of them and drapes her hands over the back of his neck. "If you could see the look on your face, babe. Pure lust."

He places his hands on her hips. "Can you blame me?"

"Nope."

Marigold pulls his face to hers. Lips reunite. Arms wrap around each other. Bare flesh presses against bare flesh.

Jeff maneuvers her towards the bed, inch by inch as they make out. His mind races. Marigold again, after all these years!

Marigold glances down, smiling naughtily. Licking her lips. "May I?"

"Of course."

Marigold kneels for a moment, then rises. She grabs a pillow from the bed and places it under her knees and gets back into position. "Much better."

She strokes his dick. Locking eyes with him, extending her tongue. Flicking his tip with her tongue.

He sighs. "Fuck."

She gives him a naughty wink and takes him into her mouth. She sucks his cock, her hand gripping the base. Her lips moving along his shaft. Staring into his eyes throughout.

Marigold mixes up her technique. At times, taking his entire length into her mouth. Or jerking him off between intervals of vigorous sucking. Kissing her way up and down his cock, too. Ultimately taking him back into her mouth.

The first inklings of an orgasm appear. No, no. Mustn't come yet. Not when she hasn't gotten off!

"You're gonna make me come if you keep going," he says.

Marigold backs off, standing. "Can't have that. At least not yet."

They ease into bed together. He climbs atop her, kissing her neck. Squeezing her tits. She wraps her arms around his shoulders.

"I'll come quick if you stick your cock in me," she says.

"You don't want me to get you warmed up first?"

Marigold smiles. "Maybe a little. Clamp your teeth down on my nipples and hold them there."

"I like it when you order me around."

She laughs. "Good for you, cause I'm a bossy bitch. Now get started on those tits!"

Jeff takes her breasts in hand. Kneading them, enjoying their fullness. He leans in, sucking her left nipple.

"Oh god," Marigold moans.

He shifts his attention to her right tit, sucking on it as hard as the left.

"Now clamp down," she moans.

He bites down on her nipple, holding his teeth in place.

"Harder," Marigold sighs.

He applies more pressure.

"Fuck, yeah! Now the other!"

He switches breasts, biting down on her other nipple the same way.

"Fuck, yeah!" she cries.

Jeff moves a hand between her legs. She parts them. "Finger me while you bite my nipples."

He inserts his index finger inside her. Fingerfucking her while biting her nipples.

"I'm ready for your cock inside me," she murmurs.

"Not until I enjoy a little taste," Jeff says. "If that's okay."

She rolls her eyes, grinning. "If you insist."

"I do insist."

He settles in between her legs, running a hand over the silken softness of her thighs. He kisses one thigh, then the other. Back and forth, working his way closer to her pussy.

"Enough!" she cries. "Eat my pussy, eat my fucking pussy!"

Jeff starts with a long lick the length of her pussy. Breathing in her rich aroma. Savoring her taste.

Marigold gasps. "I just realized I haven't showered since last night Sorry!"

"Don't be!" Jeff embraces his task with renewed gusto. Licking her clit steadily, inhaling her pungent scent.

Marigold's reaction is instant. "Lick it hard! Up and down, up and down!"

Yes, ma'am!

"Oh god," Marigold whimpers. "I need you inside me. I'll come right away."

Sounds good to me!

"Get up here!" she snaps.

Not to be denied, is she? Jeff crawls atop her. He thrusts into her a few inches, then pulls back. A second thrust and he buries his full length inside her.

Marigold gasps. "Fuck!"

He starts off slow. Fucking her at a gentle pace.

Marigold wraps her arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer. They kiss. Deep, hard kissing as they fuck.

Jeff speeds up, but only a little.

Marigold whispers in his ear. "Go all out. Fuck the shit out of me!"

He does as she asks, pounding her pussy. Marigold clutches his shoulders tighter, wrapping her legs around his waist.

"That's it," she shouts. "FUCK!"

Such intensity! So much like that first night.

Marigold shrieks. "I'm coming! FUCK!"

Yes! Come for me!

Marigold emits a long squeal, her eyes clamped shut. Her fingernails dig into his skin as pounds her pussy. She exhales and he eases up.

She places her hands on both sides of his face and kisses him. "That was so fucking great!"

"You came so fast."

Her eyes hold him under their spell. "I come a lot when I'm ramped up like this. And in the right hands. How else do you want me?"

"How about you get on all fours?"

"One of my favs." Marigold sticks her tongue in his ear. Pleasure courses down his back and he fucks her faster.

"I love getting it doggy style," she whispers. "But I like this, too. I like you taking your time on top of me. I feel like a queen."

"You're no queen," he moans. "You're a goddess. And I could fuck you this way all you like."

Marigold kisses his neck. "Maybe I'll take you up on that offer some time. Right now, gimme it from behind."

He withdraws. Marigold gets on all fours facing the headboard, sticking out her ass. He pauses, appreciating the sight. Damn.

Jeff eases his cock inside her. He takes his time fucking her. Steady, slow thrusts. Concentrating on the glories of her ass and clutching both cheeks. Speeding up gradually.

Marigold sinks from her hands to her elbows. "Fuck, yeah."

Jeff keeps at it, pounding away. One thought is in his mind, repeated over and over. Make her come. Make her come. Make her come.

Marigold's words dissolve into moaning and gasping.

Yes!

He doesn't let up, fucking her hard while she's in the throes. Afterwards, he eases up. Letting her catch her breath.

"That was so fucking great," she says.

What now? He's given her two orgasms, the dutiful lover. Keep going this way and get relief? Switch to a different position?"

The grand finale of that first night with her comes to mind. That's it! "How about you lay on your back and I give it to you standing at the edge of the bed?"

"You got it, babe."

He pulls out of her. Marigold sits up. "That was so damn good. I thought I might squirt for a second there."

Say what? "You squirt?"

"Usually only when my ass and my pussy are both getting played with."

Into ass stuff? Noted.

She lay back on the bed. "That part got cut from my book," she says. "My editor thought Daniel fingering Lucyanne's ass and her drenching his face was a step too far."

"Save it for the next one."

Marigold laughs. "I don't suppose you have a vibrating butt plug I could borrow?"

He says nothing, smiling sheepishly. This is too much fortune for one man.

Marigold's eyes widen. "I was kidding. But if you do have one, I'm no longer joking."

Jeff opens the drawer on his nightstand and takes out a small black box. He opens it and holds up the butt plug.

Marigold grins ear-to-ear. "Hello!"

"I use it when I masturbate sometimes. I've never told that to anyone."

Marigold grins. "I think it's fucking awesome!"

"I sanitize it thoroughly after every use," he adds.

"So stick it in my ass!"

He smiles. Here's a development he didn't foresee. "Slide over to the edge of the bed."

Marigold gets into position. "Be gentle. That plug's a little bigger than I'm used to."

"Don't worry." He retrieves lube from the drawer. "You're in the right hands."

"I'm sure."

He rubs her thigh, jerking his cock with his free hand. "The key is to relax. I want you to breathe nice and slow for me. Go on. Deep breaths."

Marigold takes several long, slow breaths.

"That's better," he says. "Now I'll start."

He squirts lube onto his finger, smearing it around. She spreads her legs, and he squirts some on her butthole. He pushes his finger in, sliding it past her sphincter.

"Oh, that's nice," she moans.

Just wait, babe.

He squirts more lube on his finger, fucking her asshole with it. Slow as can be. Getting her used to it. Turning his finger around in circles. Stretching her out.

"Are you ready for the butt plug?"

Marigold laughs. "I wasn't expecting to be asked that this evening! Yeah, I'm ready."

Jeff smears lube over the butt plug. He squirts more over her asshole. Jerking off with his free hand. Still hard as a rock.

"Expect a second of mild discomfort," he says. "Then you get used to it."

"Go ahead, I'm ready."

He pushes the butt plug against her butthole. Marigold gasps as it slides in.

"Okay, that wasn't bad," she says. "Now it feels good."

Get ready. He presses the button on the base and the butt plug whirrs to life.

Marigold gasps. "Oh, fuck!"

Jeff presses the button again and the butt plug vibrates harder.

Marigold slaps the mattress. "Holy shit!"

Jeff leans forward and licks her pussy.

"FUCK!" Marigold pinches her nipples. "That's perfect. I wish you could bite my nipples and fuck me."

He looks up. "I have nipple clamps."

"The things I'm learning about you."

He picks her clit again. "I don't use those on myself."

Marigold raises an eyebrow. "Caroline?"

"Were we that obvious?"

"Kinda," Marigold says. "Now break them out."

Jeff retrieves the clamps from the drawer. He carefully attaches the first to her right nipple.

Marigold shudders. "That's a lot, but I like it."

"Shall I continue?"

He attaches the second.

"FUCK!" Marigold gasps. "I love it! Now fuck me, please, fuck me!"

Jeff gets in position, easing his cock inside her. They gasp simultaneously and he begins thrusting. Nice and slow.

"Harder!" Marigold cries. "HARDER!"

Jeff speeds up but only a little.

Marigold's cries grow louder, her head turning side-to-side. "FUCK, FUCK, FUUUUUCK!"

Jeff keeps at it, lifting her legs. Clutching the black of her thighs. He speeds up again, fucking her with abandon.

"FUCK!" Marigold shrieks. "I'M COMING!"

Her words trail off into a string of incoherent syllables as she rides the throes of her latest orgasm. A series of squirts gush forth from her pussy as she comes. Three in all, soaking his midsection.

Yes! God, yes!

It's not nearly as much volume as he's seen in porn, but so what? It's a sight he never thought he'd behold in real life.

Her orgasm pushes the butt plug out of her and onto the floor.

He's given over to lust. Nothing exists except fucking Marigold's pussy. Thrust after thrust into her, his cock tingling. In, out. In, out. Closer to relief with every second.

"Fuck," he moans.

His orgasm looms. Any second now. Any second.

YES!

Jeff thrusts as deep into Marigold as he can. His cock throbs rapidly, pulse after happy pulse. Easing into lingering twitches. A sense of sweet relief left in its wake.

He sighs. "Damn."

Jeff backs out of her. He turns off the butt plug and sets it upright on the nightstand. She unclips her nipples and places the clamps next to it.

He crawls into bed with her. They hold each other close, listening to each other breathe. She turns onto her side, facing him. Resting her head and his shoulder. He wraps an arm around her.

"There are no words," she says.

He pulls her tighter. "There doesn't need to be."

_________

The boardwalk is deserted early in the morning. Marigold likes it.

She squeezes his hand. Here I go. "I hope last night wasn't just a second one-night stand."

"So do I. I certainly don't want to wait twenty four years to see you again."

They stop walking, staring at each other.

Marigold smiles. "I was going to make an offer on the house even before last night. If I am moving home, maybe we could see if there's anything there. Try and figure out if there's more than sexual chemistry between us."

He looks deep into her eyes, cradling the side of her face. "We owe each other the attempt."

They kiss. It's warm and passionate and perfect.

__________

Endnotes:

- Thank you to Rob Royale for his opinion on the title. His stories are similar to mine in many ways and we share similar tastes. He's a quality writer and, if you enjoy my work, you should check his stories out as well.

- The language of the prologue was inspired by the prose style of Prettylynne. Her work is remarkable for both its sheer beauty and emotional power. Her stories tend to be shorter in length, so curl up on the couch some rainy day and read them all.

- Thanks again for reading! Comments and votes are always appreciated.