3 BOOK BUNDLE "Her Last Love Affair", "Her Last Love Affair: Breathing Without You" AND "Her Last Love Affair: The Final Journey" (4 page)

Allie hadn’t had many lovers, but she knew enough to know
that Carl was generously proportioned. His length was pretty impressive, but
the girth was even more so. His shaft had a slight curve that caused the smooth
domed head, which was already weeping clear fluid, to point towards the
ceiling. The sight of him caused another surge of heat to pulse through Allie’s
body and she began to feel her arousal seep onto her inner thighs. “I want
you,” she breathed, shuffling her feet further apart.

Carl met her eyes, with a grin. “Just a sec,” he urged, his
free hand disappearing into his back pocket and quickly returning with a small
square of foil.

Allie watched him rip the wrapper open and place the circle
of latex over the damp head of his penis. With practiced ease, he rolled the
condom down to the base of his shaft. “Oh, God,” Allie whimpered. “I want you.”

Carl was already moving. As he guided his covered member
towards her entrance, he drew the tip over her clitoris, prompting a muffled
sob of delight from her. Then he slowly slipped between her outer lips.
Releasing his grasp on his shaft, Carl’s hands moved to Allie’s hips. Digging
his fingers possessively into the thin layer of skin, he slid his feet inside
hers and nudged at her, until her stance was even wider.

“Carl,” she begged, her nails almost puncturing the thick
fabric of his jacket. “Fuck me,” she whimpered, trying to edge her hips towards
him, but being held tightly against the door.

He flashed a quick grin, before sliding forwards. His entry
was slow, inching into her tight passage, until he had to pause only halfway
inside her. “Jesus,” he hissed.

“Oh, God,” she panted, feeling her body stretch almost
painfully with the unfamiliarity of being penetrated. “Ahh,” she moaned, as he
edged deeper still.

Carl stilled, his breath coming hard against her cheek and
neck. “You okay?” he asked through gritted teeth, struggling to maintain
control over the demands of his body.

“Yeah,” she gasped. “Fine,” she assured him. “It’s just been
a little while.” Her inner muscles fluttered and spasmed, slowly stretching her
to accommodate him.

“Am I hurting you?”

“No,” she quickly responded, as discomfort began to give way
to intense pleasure. “No, don’t stop.”

Convinced by the desire in her voice and unable to hold back
any longer, Carl plunged forwards, burying himself to the hilt. Their hips came
together hard and the rough fabric of Carl’s pants was pushed firmly against
Allie’s clitoris.

“Yes,” she squealed, thrilling in the sensation of being
completely filled, one that had been so long absent from her life.

“You’re so tight,” Carl wheezed. “Feels so damn good,” he
added, almost incoherently, as he drew his hips back. There was no long, slow
slide into her warmth this time. The need to return was too great and he
slammed deeply within her.

Allie moaned her pleasure, her right leg lifting and curving
around his hip. When he thrust once more, her back slid up the door with the
force, and she screeched in delight. “God,” she panted heavily. “That’s it,”
she urged him. “Faster.”

Carl silently obeyed, only drawing back about halfway,
before hurriedly sheathing himself once more. He knew he wasn’t going to last
long the way they were going, but from Allie’s strangled attempts to breathe
and the way her fingers had gone into spasm at his shoulder, he guessed her
orgasm wasn’t far away either.

The short sharp contact of his covered pubic bone against
her clitoris was driving her insane. She used her leg to try and coax him
closer, rubbing herself against him whenever he was held within her body.

Carl’s lower half was moving like a jackhammer, slamming her
buttocks against the door with each thrust. Allie could feel the tightening in
her stomach and sucked in a breath, as she waited for the wave to break.

Another grunted thrust and Carl was spilling his own climax
into the rubber. “Allie,” he murmured, his hips making a series of jerky
movements.

The rapid, uneven motion of his hips prompted a warmth in
Allie’s abdomen and she felt the world melting away. “Yes, yes, yes,” she
sobbed, the orgasm less intense than she’d expected, but seeming to roll on and
on for what felt like hours.

Blast From The Past

T
he early morning sunlight streamed through the
window and landed on her exhausted eyes. Allie blinked and groaned in protest,
wondering why the sun was hitting her at completely the wrong angle. The bedroom
window that faced east was at the foot of her bed, not to the right. It was
then that she became aware of the strange weight around her abdomen. Forcing
one eye open, she glanced down at the white sheet and found a strong arm draped
over her middle. In her sleep-muddled brain, it took a few moments to work out
she wasn’t in her own bedroom, and a few seconds longer to remember why.

But when realization did finally strike, the events of the
night before came flooding back to her: their hurried coupling against the
door, followed by a shower and a rather more leisurely session under the warm
jets. Then, unable to get enough of each other, they’d made love for a third
time on the bed. It was one of the most intense nights of Allie’s life and she
was glad that Carl’s stamina allowed him to keep up with her sex-starved body’s
need to make up for all those nights she’d spent alone.

Opening both eyes, she gazed at the high ceiling and
couldn’t prevent the inane grin on her face. ‘So, this is what I’ve been missing,’
she silently said to herself, tossing a sideways glance at Carl.

His hair was no longer neat. In fact, it was a mess from
where she’d grasped handfuls of it the night before. He was sleeping
peacefully, a low rumble that couldn’t really be called a snore coming in a
steady rhythm with each inhale.

Allie smiled again, as she looked at his handsome face. She
was glad that he’d been the one to break the drought. Not only was he a very
considerate lover, but he seemed to know exactly what she needed and when.
Allie guessed that he’d either been with a lot of women, or was simply a very
quick study of her. Because by the third time they’d had sex, she’d cried out
in orgasm four times before he finally allowed himself to come.

Carefully, she took hold of his thick wrist and lifted his
arm from her body. Noticing the deadweight, she guessed he was sleeping very
deeply indeed, and realized the chances of waking him were minimal. So, with a
little less care, she slipped her naked body out from under the sheets and
wandered to the bathroom. Stifling a yelp, as her bare feet touched the cool
tiles, she closed the door softly behind her.

Once under the jets of the shower, she couldn’t help but
relive the hour or more she’d spent in there with Carl. Closing her eyes, her
hand slipped over her soapy stomach and crept between her legs. She winced,
realizing how sensitive the activities of the night before had left her.
Nevertheless, she continued to lazily stroke two fingers between her swollen
lips. Gently, she stimulated her tender flesh, focusing on the tiny engorged
bud. It didn’t take long for a slow, relaxed orgasm to relieve her. But she
knew it would only do so temporarily.

With still damp hair, and wearing the black dress she
arrived at the hotel in, Allie emerged from the bathroom. She wasn’t surprised
to find that Carl was still sound asleep, although he had moved, rolling
facedown into the middle of the bed. Moving to the tiny cabinet on the left
hand side, she picked up the hotel’s notepad and pencil. After scribbling a few
words onto a piece of paper, she ripped it from the pad and placed it lightly
on the pillow next to Carl’s head.

With only a passing backwards glance, Allie made her way
from the bedroom and across the suite’s living area. With a spring in her step
and contentment she hadn’t felt in a long time, she left the hotel room and
shut the door with a quiet click.

When Carl finally woke up, he would find no trace of her,
except a handwritten note, which read. ‘I had a great time. Thanks!’

***

It was a little after midday when
Allie arrived in her apartment building. She got a disapproving look from her
elderly neighbor, Mrs. Jessop, in the hall, and guessed her dress and slightly
bedraggled hair fairly screamed, ‘slut’.

Strangely, though, she didn’t avoid the older woman’s eyes.
Instead, she offered her a warm, “Good afternoon,” as the smile she’d worn ever
since she woke up continued to brighten her features.

It wasn’t until she was in the safety of her own apartment and
slumped on the couch, with her legs propped up on the seat, that she realized
she truly didn’t care what Mrs. Jessop thought. She didn’t care what anybody
thought. Maybe she had acted like a slut, but she was not ashamed of it. She’d
always gone after what she wanted, she’d just been under the impression that
what she wanted was only a career. How wrong she was. There were so many more
things to want, crave and desire in this world. Then, the reminder of what had
caused her drastic change in attitude bombarded Allie and the smile she’d been
unable to remove from her face, disappeared of its own accord. Fortunately,
however, fatigue came to her rescue, preventing her from dwelling on her fate,
as she drifted off into a pleasant sleep.

Allie slept the entire afternoon away. By the time she woke,
it was almost five o’clock and she was ravenous. Pulling herself up from the
couch, she dragged her lethargic limbs to the kitchen and threw open the
refrigerator. She stood for several moments, sleep still fogging her brain,
before she reached forwards to a pasta meal. It took her less than thirty
seconds to rip the cardboard open and toss the tray into the microwave.

Leaving Percy Spencer’s wonderful invention to work its
magic, she wandered into the bathroom, tossed some cold water on her face and
then peeled herself from her dress.

When the microwave’s incessant beep announced that dinner
was served, Allie walked back onto the kitchen dressed in a pair of plaid
pajama bottoms and a crisp white T-shirt. Her hair was scooped back from her
face and clipped loosely at the nape of her neck.

Grabbing a fork from a drawer and a plate from the rack, she
quickly removed her meal from its packaging and returned to the living room
with it. Stifling a yawn, she slid her plate onto the coffee table and allowed
the steaming pasta to cool. Her eyes moved over the table, looking for some
distraction for a couple of minutes. A copy of Rosalind’s magazine, which she’d
left a couple of weeks previously, had remained unread. She still had no
intention of picking it up. Instead, her eyes continued to move and eventually
landing on her laptop, she quickly swept the computer up with her right hand.

She wasn’t exactly sure what to expect when she opened her
emails, but she’d secretly hoped that she would find a message from Carl. Sure
enough, her inbox had just one unread email, and it was from him. Like her note
to him, it was brief. ‘I had a great time, too. If you ever want to meet up
again, you know how to find me.’ Allie smiled, wondering if she should take him
up on the offer. Sex with him was certainly good. However, it would get too
complicated if she spent more than a night with him. He might start to think
that she wanted a relationship and, even if he didn’t, if he saw her on even a
semi-regular basis, there were things he might notice. Bruises, loss of weight,
things she wouldn’t be able to hide from someone who saw her naked. No, there
was no question. As wonderful as Carl was, it could only be a one night deal.

Besides, she reminded herself, the whole idea was to make up
for all of the lost opportunities she’d had. And, she had to admit, part of the
reason sex with Carl had been so good was because it was entirely free,
uncommitted, maybe even meaningless. Allie knew, without question, that was
what she hungered for.

Closing the email inbox, she opened a new browser and typed
words she never thought she would write, ‘www.facebook.com’. Allie had always
been a firm believer that Facebook was a complete waste of time. Now, however, she
began to see a way of using it to her advantage. She wanted to contact men from
her past, men who previously she simply hadn’t had time for. Consequently, with
the exception of Carl, who she’d bumped into quite by accident and exchanged
email address with, she hadn’t remained in touch with any of the guys who were
now on her list of potential lovers. What better way to find them, than through
Facebook? “Who would have thought,” she muttered, typing her details to open a
profile on the site. “I’m actually grateful to Mark Zuckerberg for creating
this crap.”

It didn’t take long to find a number of friends she’d
attended college with and through many of them, she was able to find others,
who for one reason or another weren’t listed on the college network. Soon,
she’d already got over 150 ‘friends’. There were four men that she remembered
particularly vividly and, writing quick private message to all of them, she
hoped that they would remember her, too.

By the time she set the laptop back on the table, her dinner
was cold, but she found she wasn’t hungry anyway. She left the goopy,
unappetizing mess and kept her eyes on the computer screen. Leaning forward,
she lent her elbows on her knees and placed her chin on her hands. As the
seconds ticked by, she tapped her index finger against her cheek. She knew that
it was stupid to sit there waiting, she was well aware of the fact that people
had lives and weren’t logged onto Facebook twenty four hours a day.
Nevertheless, the anticipation would not allow her to think of anything else.

So she continued to sit, as the minute’s ticked by, willing
just one of the men to write to her, even if it was just to say, ‘No, I’m
sorry, but I haven’t got a clue who you are.’ After fifteen excruciatingly long
minutes, the small red ‘1’ appeared at the top of the message icon. Allie
slipped from the couch and settled on the floor, pulling the laptop close to
the edge of the coffee table, so she could reach the keyboard with ease.

The first man to reply was Stephen Lanzmann. He worked on
the college paper and that meant Allie had had more time for him than most men.
They even went on a couple of dinner dates. However, when he tried to move
things further, Allie convinced herself that it would be a bad idea to sleep
with someone she worked with, even if it was just on the college paper. She
believed, somewhat illogically, that it would lead people, especially future
employers, to assume that that’s how she got ahead in the workplace. So, their
blossoming relationship was ended before it ever went anywhere.

She opened his message with no small amount of trepidation,
wondering if perhaps, even though he’d been outwardly very understanding of her
decision all those years ago, he was secretly pissed off. The opening line
appeared to suggest that her concern was in vain. ‘Oh my, God! Allie McLaren,
how long has it been?’ He went on to discuss old times, asking whether she
remembered some of the stories they’d worked on together. Then, he asked the
question she’d wanted to ask him. ‘Would you like to meet up some time?’

Not bothering to appear to play it cool, Allie chose not to
wait before replying. Soon, a date for the following week was arranged. And,
just as she was about to close the laptop, she found another new message.
Within ten minutes, she had a second date, just three days after her planned
meeting with Stephen. She wavered momentarily over whether to see the two men
so close to one another, but shrugged off any concern the old Allie would have
had, insisting that she didn’t have the luxury of time. Besides, she reminded
herself, she wasn’t the old Allie any more. If there had been any residual
doubt over that, Carl had washed it away.