Her Last Love Affair (5 page)

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.

No Regrets

T
he first three days of the working week dragged
slowly for Allie. She rushed a few pointless assignments, but her heart wasn’t
in her work at all. She spent most of her time scrolling through the Facebook
profile of Stephen, trying to piece together his life since college.

By the time she headed home early on Wednesday afternoon,
she’d learned that he’d recently split with a girl he’d been engaged to. There
was no overt reference to the cause of the breakup, but, from the messages of
sympathy Stephen had received from friends, which included unflattering remarks
regarding the lady in question, Allie guessed there had been infidelity on her
part.

All of this meant there was a good chance Stephen would be
open to her suggestion of a guilt-free, no-strings evening of fun. He needed a
sexual sorbet. Nothing too serious, just a night of purely physical pleasure to
help get over the woman who’d broken his heart.

After a long, unhurried bath, during which time she shaved,
exfoliated and tweezed her body to perfection, Allie dressed in a long red
dress with plunging neckline. She’d got no plans to leave the apartment, but
Stephen didn’t need to know that. Besides which, she wanted to wow him.

It was exactly seven o’clock when a firm knock sounded at
the door. She rolled her eyes good-naturedly, remembering his almost
obsessional punctuality. Smiling, she wandered to the door and pulled it open.
“Right on time,” she announced.

Stephen Lanzmann was no jock, like Carl, but he was no less
attractive. He had wavy, sandy blonde hair, which Allie noted was just long
enough to rake her hands through. In a dramatic move from college, Allie found
him embracing his inner geek. He’d ditched the contacts and returned to wearing
thick-rimmed glasses. He wore fitted, dark blue jeans with a black dress shirt
and a grey suit jacket. His light brown eyes took her in slowly, before a smile
that was all bright white teeth emerged on his face.

Allie remembered that smile well. It was a dazzling grin, a
genuine look of pleasure or joy, which reached his eyes and possessed such
magnetism that it was impossible for anyone to dislike him.

“Hi,” he greeted, lifting his hand in a slightly nervous
wave.

Allie had known this would be different from her experience
with Carl. Stephen was an inherently shy guy. He wasn’t going to make any moves
on her, especially if he felt self-conscious or tense. So, she had to remind
him what it had been like between them when they were friends. Stepping
forward, she opened her arms and pulled him into a hug. “It’s really good to
see you,” she enthused, genuinely. “Why don’t you come in?”

It took a while for Stephen to force his limbs to react to
the embrace and by the time he was wrapping his own arms around Allie’s tiny
frame, she was already drawing back. “Err, thanks,” he grinned. “You look
great,” he added.

“You too,” she smiled standing aside and offering him entry
into the apartment.

Stephen gratefully accepted, stepping across the threshold
and slowly taking in the living room in front of him. He wasn’t surprised by
what he saw. No artwork on the walls, no pictures, clean wooden floors, no
clutter, no ornaments collecting dust. It was simple, uncomplicated. It was
very Allie.

“Do you want to sit down?” Allie urged, draping an arm
around Stephen’s waist and turning him in the direction of the couch.

“Umm, sure,” he nodded, following her lead and lowering
himself onto the leather, L-shaped furniture. “Aren’t we heading out?” he
added.

 “We can if you want to,” Allie replied, settling next to
him and making sure her thigh was pressed tightly against his. “But I was
thinking we could stay here.”

“Oh,” he responded in surprise. “Well, sure,” he quickly
added. “I mean, it’s quieter here. We can talk properly.”

Allie smiled to herself, placing a hand on his leg, as she
leaned closer to his ear. “I wasn’t thinking about talking, either,” she
whispered.

“You weren’t?” he questioned, his eyes moving down to her
fingers and the suggestive way they crept around to his inner thigh.

“No,” she huskily announced. “I was thinking about that
night we went to the cocktail bar and what happened when we got back to my
place.”

Stephen swallowed hard. “Nothing happened when we got back
to your place,” he said. There was no hint of accusation; it was just a simple
statement of fact.

“That was a mistake,” she whispered, her lips brushing
against his smooth, soft cheek as they moved. “My mistake,” she added.

“Allie,” he sighed, twisting in his seat, so that her body
was not quite as close to his. “I don’t think this is a good idea,” he noted.
“I’ve just got out of a-”

“It’s all right,” she quickly interjected forestalling him.
“I know you’re not looking for anything serious. Neither am I,” she smiled,
tipping forwards and offering him a view of her naked cleavage. “I just want a
chance to relive a chance I should have taken.”

It was struggle for Stephen to take his gaze from her
generous curves. However, he eventually managed to meet her eyes with a
questioning furrow on his brow. “Why?”

“I don’t want to live with regrets,” she replied simply,
kicking her shoes off and pushing herself up onto her knees. “I don’t want to
be left wondering what could have been.” She smiled as she took hold of the
long skirt of her gown and swung one leg over Stephen’s thighs. “I’ll make sure
you don’t regret it,” she informed him, settling into his lap.

Unsure what to do, Stephen lifted his hands only to leave
them hovering at Allie’s back for a few moments. Then he placed them flat on
the couch again. “I don’t want you to think that we can just pick things up
where we left them,” he insisted, shaking his head. “Things have changed. Our
lives have changed and we can’t…I mean….”

“Just one night, Stephen. That’s all I want. One night to
feel what I should have experienced nine years ago.”

“I don’t…” he stammered, the war between the demands of his
body and the warnings of his brain becoming harder to fight.

Allie knew that talking wasn’t going to get her any further.
Instead, she reached behind her and began to pull the tiny zipper of her gown.
The top of her dress instantly went slack and, as she slipped her arms out of
the thin spaghetti straps, the red fabric pooled at her waist.

Her exposed breasts where directly in Stephen’s eye line. If
he leaned forward just fractionally, he could taste the pink buds in their
centers.

Over recent weeks, weight loss had meant she’d gone down a
cup size, but Stephen’s admiring eyes, as wide as saucers, reassured her that
they were still attractive. “You can do whatever you want with me,” she
encouraged him, placing her right hand at the side of his head and stroking the
backs of her fingers through the hair at his temple..

Although his face betrayed nothing of what her words had
done to him, Allie felt the denim of his pants press rigidly against the crotch
of her panties. His hands moved slowly to her legs, finding their way beneath
the fabric, until he was touching her bare flesh. Then, Allie saw the change in
his eyes, the shift from nervous nerdy guy to a man who knew exactly what he
wanted and was going to get it.

  Lunging forwards, Stephen placed his face between her
breasts and delicately licked the inner curve to his left. The gentle teasing
prompted Allie to jerk, rocking her hips against his. Both of her hands worked
their way into the thick hair at the back of his head, twisting handfuls in
encouragement. Stephen licked her other breast as he had the first, before
placing his warm mouth on her areola and teasing the already erect nipple into
an even harder peak.

Allie closed her eyes and tipped her head back, pushing her
highly sensitive flesh further into his mouth. Stephen responded by grazing his
teeth over the puckered skin and was rewarded with a strangled, “yes.”

Slowly releasing the warm pebble from his lips, Stephen
leaned back once more. Looking at her flushed cheeks and ragged breath, he
smiled. Continuing to massage the muscles of her thighs, he ran his tongue over
his bottom lip. “Get up,” he ordered, in a manner vastly different from the
nervy demeanor he displayed when he arrived.

Allie cocked her head to the side, assessing the change in
him and intrigued by a facet of his personality she’d never seen before.

“Get up,” he repeated, sliding his hands out from beneath
her dress. Lifting the fingers of his right hand to his face, he slid the
heavy-framed spectacles from his nose, before uncaringly tossing them on the
couch to his right.

Somewhat amused, Allie did as she was told, shuffling back
down his legs. The toes of her right foot found the hard floor and she eased
herself upright. Feeling suddenly uncomfortably exposed, she made a move to
pull the bodice of her dress over her torso, but Stephen stopped her with a
sharp, “No.”

Pushing himself from the couch, he stood before her. Near
enough to touch her, but keeping his hands to himself. “Take it off,” he
encouraged.

Lapping at her dry lips, Allie followed his direction.
Gripping the dress, where it clung to her hips, she nudged it down, until
gravity took over. She was left in nothing but a black, lace thong. Preempting
his next instruction, she hooked her thumb in the underwear, but again, she was
stopped by a forceful, “No.”

Stephen shook his head, and held out his open left hand
towards her. “Leave the panties,” he said.

Allie had once briefly dated a man who enjoyed controlling
their lovemaking. So the experience was not entirely new to her. However, she
had never in her wildest dreams imagined Stephen as sexually dominant. He was
always so mild-mannered and easygoing, sometimes even shy, as he had been when
she first opened the door. To see him reveling in a very different side of his
personality was both arousing and slightly scary. However, she took the hand
offered to her.