The last of his cum pumped out, Art sent April a text. Saying they never talked about fees for reading and any corrections on his stories. April heard her text go off, but was too busy coming at that moment. Once she regained control, she sent him a text back. At the end of her message, she told him to call her anytime.
Art puzzled over her last line, saw what it could mean, but didn't think it meant for him. It just couldn't.
He set to work on a ghost story for her, also worked on his porn stories too. It was two weeks before he sent her one to her P.O. Box.
A couple of days later, she called him on his cell phone. Just hearing her voice, his hand rubbed himself through his jeans. Maybe he could shoot a load while they talked about his story.
Her next seven words toppled his hard on. "I think you sent me wrong story." He sat up, "what?"
"You heard me." He heard the coldness in her voice too.
Art apologized constantly, no reply from April as he babbled to her. She finally said "fine," when he asked her to meet him at bookstore to take back his story.
She was in the writing section when Art arrived. She dropped the brown folder to the floor. Art stooped down to pick it up, his eyes feasted on her nude stocking going up her legs, stopping at mid thigh, just under her skirt. She moved back as he stood. "Is this really happening?"
Her kiss, sweeter, then Art could ever imagine, and he did every night since meeting her, buckled his knees. "It's really happening, and I'm not wearing any panties."
Follow me home coming soon