Commodities

Saving Ourselves For Marriage: Part 1

SAVING OURSELVES FOR MARRIAGE: PART 1 TWO YOUNG CHRISTIANS EXPLORING LOVE AND PASSION. Based on a post by Architect 23 94 [https://www.literotica.com/authors/Architect2394/works], in 3 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast [https://archive.org/download/summer-2025_202506/SavingOurselvesForMarriage1.mp3] at Connected [https://feeds.feedburner.com/connected-podcast]. [https://archive.org/download/summer-2025_202506/SavingOurselvesForMarriage1.jpg] I sit naked in an overstuffed leather armchair absorbing my surreal surroundings. The remnant scents of crushed rose petals and last night's love making fill my nostrils while the gentle glow of dawn filters through leaded glass windows and sheer drapery. Gold-leaf picture frames and an antique clock face give off a slight radiance that contrast against the historic mansion's otherwise dark furnishings and wood paneling. Of everything in the room, the object most strikingly highlighted by the soft illumination is Emily's smooth alabaster leg extending from underneath the king size bed's dark duvet cover. The room is silent except for faint, deep breaths of slumber emanating from beneath the duvet. While my senses are filled by the early morning experience, treasured memories of the journey to this moment float through my head. MY CHILDHOOD. God has been good to me. I was raised in a very loving home by two wonderful parents, both faithful Believers who raised their two sons to be Godly young men. My mom worked as an elementary schoolteacher but spent most of her free time spearheading our church's county-wide food pantry ministry. Dad was a jack-of-all-trades who probably had 20 different jobs over his working career, not because he wasn't good at the jobs, but because he was a very inquisitive person and became quickly bored with each pursuit. We weren't monetarily wealthy by any definition, but we were a solid working-class family and our basic day-to-day needs were met. There were a few local main street businesses that were the economic and social hubs for our small Midwest farming community. Linda's Diner was the only restaurant in our one-flashing-light town, and was where the retired crowd started their morning with coffee and gossip. Following breakfast, the older men moved to the John Deere dealership where they spent the morning drinking more coffee and lamenting that "they don't make tractors like they used to." Meanwhile, the older women went to Clancy Drugs, which was actually more of a "five and dime" store that had a small pharmacy. The owner, Oscar Clancy, had set up an area with armchairs, a couple sofas, and a coffee table where the women would knit and crotchet while they gossiped. Two other local landmarks were the towering white steeple of the First Congregational Church, and the two-story brick Burkee Hardware building, owned by John and Bonnie Burkee. Both were welcome visual contrasts to flat horizons filled with endless cornfields, and both had transformational roles in my life. The Burkee's attended First Congregational Church, as did nearly everyone in town, and were long-time friends with my parents. Mrs. Burkee often helped my mom with the church food pantry and my dad was a frequently found at the hardware store 'shooting-the-breeze' with Mr. Burkee. Nearly every Friday night, the two couples could be found playing Euchre at their house or ours. Mr. Burkee knew money was always tight for my parents and, when I was a Freshman in high school, suggested I help out at the hardware store on Saturdays. I readily accepted and he put me to work with basic tasks like loading customers' cars, sweeping floors, and taking out trash. Since I was only 14 at the time, Mrs. Burkee would pay me in cash at the end of each Saturday and usually send me home with a plate of cookies or some other treat for my family. As a couple without children of their own, I felt a bit like the son they never had. The hardware store was a natural fit for me. My family didn't have money to buy new things or hire repair technicians when something broke, so dad always fixed everything himself. He had a mechanical mind and was innovative with cost efficient solutions and repairs. I was always eager to watch him as a young child, and to participate in the repairs as I grew older. As grew into a young adult, my mind began to work like his, inquisitive and mechanical, and that translated into a lot of practical knowledge that was helpful at the hardware store. After a few months, Mr. Burkee asked if I would want to help stock shelves on weekdays after school. He gave a stern warning that I needed to keep my schoolwork and grades in order. School was to be my number one priority and if I didn't abide by that, working afternoons at the hardware store would end. He had no reason to worry and I eagerly accepted his offer. School came easy to me and I carried straight A's without much effort. What didn't come easy to me was social ease. I was a very introverted person and found social interactions awkward at best. I had a couple good buddies and did marginally well holding conversations with adults, but would stumble epically when even saying "hi" to a teenage girl. When I turned 16, Mr. and Mrs. Burkee promoted me to be a legitimate, on-the-books employee at Burkee Hardware and had me start interacting more with customers. I helped them find items in the store, answered general questions, and sometimes helped brainstorm on their projects. Mrs. Burkee taught me how to use the cash register and record store credit purchases for customers that were billed monthly. I didn't recognize it until years later, but the trust Mr. and Mrs. Burkee gave me in those early years allowed me to find trust in myself. I was confident in my knowledge and that gave me courage in my interactions with customers. That also spread to other aspects of my life and I found it easier to have more meaningful conversations with friends or adults at church. Girls were still a different story. I had zero confidence in that area and remained painfully awkward to the point of social paralysis. It was as if I was on the outside of a glass bubble looking into the real world. There were a few girls at school and at church that I found attractive and interesting, but I lacked the ability to break through that glass wall. Accepting failure in that part of my life, I poured my energies into school, church activities, and the hardware store. I became more involved at church where I took on a bigger role in helping my mom with the food pantry, joined a Wednesday evening Bible Study group, and grew much deeper in my personal relationship with God. Those things certainly didn't solve my awkwardness with girls, but they at least kept my mind from constantly dwelling on the subject. BECOMING A MAN. By the time my Senior year arrived, I was a well engrained fixture at church and the hardware store. The Burkee's trusted me implicitly and often left me to run the store or lock up at night when they had other commitments. Over the Christmas and New Year's holidays, they even took their first vacation in 20-years, a 10-day Caribbean cruise, and left me to manage the store. During that year, I began to think about life after high school. The hardware store was very comfortable for me and I loved every minute of it, but I also knew it would be difficult to support myself, and hopefully a future family, on a store clerk's wages. My mechanical mind dreamed of an engineering degree and a career designing complex industrial innovations. The spiritual side of me dreamed of a life in ministry leading people to Jesus, though that wasn't exactly a high-paying appointment either. The problem with both options was money. My parents had managed to squirrel away a very small college fund over the years but, in reality, the vast majority of college expenses would need to be covered by scholarships and loans. Understanding the potential magnitude of college debt made a non-degreed life at the hardware store look more and more attractive. Mrs. Burkee had taken a keen interest in what I intended to do after graduation and there were occasional slow evenings at the hardware store when she would sit and listen to all the conflicting thoughts rattling around in my head. Every time she would give the same advice, to keep my options open, pursue all opportunities until a decision became clear, and keep praying for God's guidance. I took her advice to heart and explored various community colleges and universities, both those with engineering programs and those with ministry fields. I found a few Christian colleges that had well regarded engineering programs, which would give me the perfect opportunity to pursue both of my dreams simultaneously. However, the schools were private and their tuitions rates were astronomical. My "top-pick" school, Powell College, was located in a small town of the same name and was especially pricey. Mrs. Burkee continued her previous advice and insisted I apply to as many schools as possible to keep my options open. She backed up her determination by insisting that she and Mr. Burkee pay for all the application fees. How could I argue with that? Meanwhile, graduation was a couple months away and the entire town was abuzz about the upcoming Senior Prom. I had never attended a school dance and had no intention of attending Senior Prom. My mom disagreed, arguing it was a rite-of-passage and that I would regret it for the rest of my life. She wouldn't accept no for answer and said she would make arrangements for me to take her coworker's daughter, Bridget, to Prom. I continued protesting and told her that I could find my own date, but I didn't want to go to any high school dance, Prom or otherwise. However, mom was relentless and I eventually resigned myself to the fact I wasn't going to win the argument. My statement about finding my own date was a partial truth. Thanks to family genes, I was a fairly good-looking guy and occasionally drew the interest of girls around my age. Moving and lifting of heavy items at the hardware store had slowly evolved my body from that of a scrawny child into a muscular, well-defined 6'-3" young man with softly chiseled facial features. Unfortunately, any female attention I received because of my physical appearance was quickly repelled by my awkward and unconfident nature. Prom was an absolute disaster. Set-up dates are awkward under any circumstances, but Bridget was very shy and just as socially backward as me. We were simply a bad combination and spent the first part of the night standing off to the side of the dance floor fidgeting nervously and trying not to make eye contact with each other. Eventually, I worked up the courage to ask her to dance when the band began playing a slow ballad. She reluctantly accepted. We slowly shuffled around in circles, clumsily looking for appropriate hand placements and keeping plenty of distance between our bodies. Thankfully, our respective friends rescued us shortly after the song ended and we amicably parted ways. RECRUITED. Envelopes with college and university logos began appearing in the family mailbox about a month before graduation. I had a perfect GPA, so it wasn't a surprise that they were all letters of acceptance. However, what I didn't expect was that most of them also included offers of significant scholarships and financial aid. I was ecstatic to learn Powell College offered an 80% no-repayment scholarship, which made my "top-pick" school a realistic possibility. I excitedly told my parents then immediately raced over to the hardware store to tell Mrs. Burkee. A few days later, I closed the hardware store and went home to find the Burkee's and my parents playing their regular Friday night Euchre game at the kitchen table. They all greeted me as I walked in the house and, with a strange look on his face, my dad said somewhat ominously, "Sit down son, Mr. & Mrs. Burkee would like to talk to you about something." I nervously pulled up a chair and waited patiently while they finished the last couple tricks of the hand. Mom updated the score and dad started reshuffling the cards while Mr. Burkee spoke. "Mike, you did a great job managing the store while we were on the cruise last winter and, well, we really enjoyed the time away. I have a proposition for you." I listened intently as he continued, "We would like to go on an extended vacation this summer. Go out west to the Grand Canyon, Yellowstone, Mt. Rushmore; maybe even try our luck in Vegas. We haven't planned it out yet so we're not sure how long we'll be gone, but I'm guessing 3 or 4 weeks for a road trip like that. So; We would like you to manage the store while we're away." I was more than happy to do so and started to respond, but Mrs. Burkee cut me off before I got any words out, "However, you won't receive your normal hourly wage while we're gone;” I looked at her quizzically and waited for her to continue after a faux dramatic pause, "Instead, John and I will pay the 20% of Powell's tuition that the scholarship doesn't cover, and also help you out with books and course fees." I was quickly doing calculations in my head. Their proposal was easily worth 4 times what I would earn at my normal gross hourly rate, not even considering taxes. I sat speechless with a stunned look on my face. Here was the answer to my prayers. God had provided. Mrs. Burkee excitedly continued, "I know you really want to go to Powell. You're an amazing young man and we want you to follow your dreams." Mr. Burkee echoed her thoughts and added, "You've worked your tail off for 4 years, more so than we could ask of any employee. This isn't a gift. You've earned it." I looked over at my parents. My mom was beaming and my dad had a 'gotcha' look on his face. Apparently, he thought it was funny to bait me at the beginning of the conversation. I slowly responded, "I; I don't know what to say. That's very generous." I think Mrs. Burkee was even more excited than me and blurted out, "Just say yes!" So, I did. CAP & GOWN. High school graduation and the following summer went by in a blur. Amid preparing to move away to Powell, I also managed to keep attending my weekly Bible study and maintain status quo at the hardware store while Mr. & Mrs. Burkee were on vacation. Before I knew it, I was loading up my car and saying heartfelt goodbyes to all my friends and family, and especially to the Burkee's for all they had done over the past years. After arriving at Powell, I quickly settled into my dorm room on the first day, then spent the second day on campus searching for a job. Despite my tuition being 100% covered, I still needed to pay for room & board and needed some spending money. Naturally, my first stop was the local downtown hardware store where I spoke briefly with the owner, a stern-looking man in his late 50s, Mr. Jacobs. He looked at me skeptically and gruffly asked if I had any experience. I modestly told him that I worked at the hardware store in my hometown. He asked for a contact person, which I gave, and he said he would get back to me. I spent the rest of the day applying for jobs anywhere that had a posting, though I needn't have. Mr. Jacobs called me first thing the next morning to say he talked to Mr. Burkee, and I was hired. HIGHER ED. I settled into a routine of classes and work over the next few weeks. My inquisitive mind yearned for new knowledge from both sources and I soaked it up like a sponge. The coursework was more challenging and took more effort than in high school, but was still manageable and left adequate time for about 20 hours a week at the hardware store. Between the hardware store paycheck, some help from my parents, and a moderate size student loan, I would be able to cover the cost of room & board and my general living expenses. Once again, God provided. During those first few weeks, I also began attending Faith Bible Church, which was located a couple blocks from the hardware store. It was a typical church in many ways, but also had a large college-age ministry given its proximity to Powell's campus. They had a worship service on Sunday morning and a variety of study and support groups throughout the week, including a 'young adult' (a.k.a. college student) study group on Wednesday evenings that they called Next Gen, just NG for short. Due to my schedule at the hardware store, it was a few weeks into school before I could attend my first Wednesday NG study. I followed signs through the church building into a large lounge area furnished like an oversized but cozy living room, complete with an artificial electric fireplace. I would guess there were about 40-50 students socializing in informal clusters around the room. I recognized a couple students from my engineering classes and decided they would be my safest point of entry into this new group. My eyes casually scanned the room looking for other familiar faces as I purposefully walked toward my engineering classmates, that is until I plowed into someone. My hands instinctively reached out to steady whoever I just clobbered and grasped the shoulders of an extremely petite girl. I looked down to see a bob of strawberry-blond hair face-planted into the lower portion of my chest. Socially horrified, I quickly stepped backward and squeaked out a timid, "Sorry. Are you ok?" The girl's head tilted upward to reveal pure beauty with amazing blue eyes and a welcoming smile. Ignoring my question and the clumsy circumstance, she cheerily thrust her hand out to shake mine, "I'm Emily! Emily Fulton. I haven't seen you here before so I was just coming to say hello." A pang of nervousness clenched my stomach as her delicate hand came to rest in my big mitt "Hi, I'm Michael; er; Mike." "Nice to meet you Michael," she said emphasizing my formal name, then warmly continued, "I saw you at worship service the last couple Sundays, but you left before I could catch you." I stood with Emily's soft hand in mine, frozen in an awkward conversational pause and unable to formulate an intelligent response. Again, she ignored my ineptness and continued, "I'm glad you came to NG tonight! I'm a Freshman at Powell, but I grew up in this church and already know most of the students here. Let me introduce you to some people." Her hand slipped from our handshake as she turned and began walking toward a group on the far side of the room. I followed behind, curiously observing Emily's petite form as her short legs took 2 energetic steps for every one of my lazy strides. While small, her 4'-11" body was perfectly proportioned, and her tastefully conservative attire gave an impression of style and elegance not exhibited by other students in the room. Tasteful white shorts highlighted subtly athletic legs and graceful hips, while a tailored pastel-blue sleeveless blouse accentuated her narrow waist and modest chest. Emily proceeded to introduce me to nearly everyone in the room before the study began, skillfully prompting conversation and filling awkward pauses in a way that made me feel at ease. That continued into the Bible study as we sat in adjacent armchairs and she effortlessly integrated me into the group discussions. As the study ended and people began to informally mingle again, Emily turned toward me in her chair with a genuine smile, "I'm really glad you came tonight. Will I see you Sunday morning?" The inquiry was rote social courtesy for most people, but Emily's smile and voice radiated true sincerity that meant much more than the face value of the words. The genuine kindness caught me a bit off guard and I stumbled a response, "Ye; yes, I'll be here Sunday." She enthusiastically replied, "Great! I'll see you then!" and moved to join a group of her friends across the room. SCHOOL WORK. Over the following weeks, I fell into a routine and became integrated into life at Powell, Faith Bible, and Jacobs Hardware. Classes were going well, and the hardware store atmosphere felt like a reunion with an old friend. Whatever tensions I had melted away when I entered through the old, creaky screen door on Main Street. At church, I began to build friendships with a few of the guys in NG and, on more Sundays and Wednesdays than not, Emily would initiate a few minutes of friendly conversation with me. Over the course of those brief chats, I learned she was an Early Childhood Education major, her dad was a tenured seminary professor at Powell, she was a cheerleader and president of the quiz bowl team in high school, and; she always dressed impeccably. In turn, I told her about my

Yesterday - 1 h 0 min

How Chloe Finally Got Some: Part 2

HOW CHLOE FINALLY GOT SOME: PART 2 CHLOE GOES BAT-SHIT CRAZY, THEN RESORTS TO STALKING. Based on a post by oldtruckdriver [https://www.literotica.com/authors/oldtruckdriver/works/stories]. Listen to the ►Podcast [https://archive.org/download/spring-erotic-stories/HowChloeFinallyGotSome2.mp3] at Steamy Stories [https://feeds.feedburner.com/steamy-stories]. [https://archive.org/download/spring-erotic-stories/HowChloeFinallyGotSome2.jpg] Chloe hopped out of bed and went to grab the drinks. On the way to the kitchen she thought not only had she not had Dave use a condom but she had him in her apartment. Both of those were pretty high on her list of things not to do. Her well-fucked cunt was leaking a long stream of juice down past her knees, by the time she had refreshments dished up. When she came back with the beverages she also had a bowl full of red and green grapes. They sat cross legged on the bed and ate the grapes and re-hydrated. "When we first got in the apartment you said you were horny and would explain later. "I guess I did. Well, it started last night" Chloe took a good part of an hour detailing the long string of bad luck and fluke circumstances from her 2 days of cock trolling. By the time she was finished he was rolling on the bed laughing. "Wow!" he exclaimed; "and I thought I had a fucked up night." She was flat on her back, laughing right along with him and said, "The only reason I can laugh about it is because of your failed attempt at mugging me. The night has turned out so much better than I thought it was going to, that's for sure. My craving for a good cunt-pounding was driving me nuts, but it was so thoroughly rewarded by finding and seducing you, Sir David.” He got up on his knees next to her and looking down said, "And it doesn't look like it's over yet." Referring to the turgid flag pole extended over her lovely tit. "Well look who decided to join us.” She turned her head and kissed the red bulbous head. “Let's get him wrapped up shall we?" she asked reaching into her nightstand for a condom. The sex was very good. He was a considerate lover and induced her huge orgasm; and then brought her along for an even bigger one, when he climaxed. When he pulled out, she peeled off the condom and dropped in into the bedside wastebasket. He pulled her over until she was lying with an arm and a leg draped over him. "That was very nice," Dave said, "Do you mind if I take a little nap? When I wake up I'll slip out." "First of all," she said grabbing her phone, "put your number in this. I'll give you a few days to get a new phone and I'll call you." She looked at him for a moment and thought to herself, well I've broken two of my rules tonight, why not a third. "I wouldn't mind if you stayed the night. Tomorrow's Sunday, we could go for brunch somewhere." She found she was holding her breath waiting for his reply. This was her bravest and most insecure moment of taking initiative and risk. "Much as I would love that, I have to get home early, to get Sharon to church." Chloe reeled back from him, then put both her feet into his ribs and pushed. She couldn't knock him all the way out of bed but he got the hint and scrambled out the far side. "You miserable son of a bitch, get the hell out." "Let me explain," he begged. "Go choke your own chicken, bastard," she yelled pointing toward the door. He quickly dressed and left the bedroom. She followed him naked to the front door. He fumbled with the three locks on her door and she shoved him out of the way, got them unlocked and jerked the door open. He was half way through the door when he stopped. No; by god, once tonight was enough. He stepped back into her apartment and pulling the door out of her hand, gently closed and locked it. "What the hell do you think you're doing? I'm calling the police," she yelled. If anything her volume had increased. Very firm and reasonably he said, "No, no you're not. You are going to sit down while I explain a few things to you." "I am not interested in anything you might have to say." It was a classic Hallmark Movie scene of Chloe being the over-reacting dingbat chic, feeling insecure about giving her heart away, then impulsively assuming the worst in a decent guy. "Well Chloe," he began softly, "I think there are things you should be aware of so please sit down." Then he roared, "And shut the fuck up, for the love of God!" This startled Chloe so much she actually submitted to his strong male assertiveness. She shut up and looked at him. His face was a mask of anguish. She silently sank down onto her sofa. David disappeared down the hallway and soon reappeared with the comforter from her bed. He draped it around her and then sat down in the armchair. "I was already accused of a lot of things that weren't true, tonight. I gave up on that other bat-shit crazy chic, because she was not worth fighting for. You on the other hand, I think, are worth fighting for. So, from the top, I am not married and have no kids. My ex, Brittany, was compatible for a while, but eventually didn't like being married and feeling tied down. I met Brittany when we were in college. She was a foreign student, here on an academic visa. She was passionate about us and we married a week after completing our grad studies. That was 4 years ago. Two years ago she was granted citizenship. Three weeks later she took off. I haven't seen her since. A month after she left I got divorce papers. We had a prenup and she got nothing of mine. I work in the financial district, actually I'm in arbitrage, and make a ton of money. I just resumed dating a few months ago and tonight was the fourth date with bat shit crazy lady. Now, I don't owe you anything and you don't owe me anything. We just happened to meet each other and have the best night of my life. If I gave you a good time too, that's great. I repeat; I am not married and I am not in any type of relationship, with anyone. The only thing I can be rightly accused of is being a divorced man. I'm sorry, I didn't mention that as I was being dragged up here by my cock. I didn't think it was germane to the situation. The 'Sharon' I have to take to church is my German Shepard. The church is at the nursing home where my mom lived until she died. I used to take Sharon to see my mom, and the staff convinced me to keep bringing my dog in as pet therapy for the lonely residents who were my mother's last friends. Sunday is our day for that. Just after the residents have breakfast. Thank you for your time and patience." She sat there stunned while he got up and unlocked the door. He opened the door and have her a long sad look and was gone. She hung her head and started crying. She woke up the next morning in her bed, but did not remember moving from the sofa. She only left her bed that day to pee and toward evening heat a can of chicken noodle soup. She thought about David all day Monday. On Tuesday she started calling the number he had put in her phone. He had given her the right number but every time she called it went right to a full voicemail. On Friday she was still getting the same result. She spend the weekend outside the city, with her parents. She insisted they watch The Princess Bride and she cried through most of it. THE HUNT FOR HER DAVID. After trying a couple times Monday morning she had finally had enough. OK she thought to herself, you are in I T, you know how to run a search. So she started a search with the known facts. She had a first name, she knew he worked for a financial firm, he was in the arbitrage department. Her results showed 117 hits for Davids in arbitrage. How can that be she wondered. She had had to look up arbitrage to find out what it even dealt with. It sounded like a very tedious way to earn money. She started on her list and had phoned 30 Davids by the end of the day. Tuesday and Wednesday saw her at the end of her list with no hits. Then she thought maybe the firm David worked for didn't call that division arbitrage. She did a search of every financial institution in the area. This yielded 245 new Davids. It took her nearly two weeks to go through them all without finding her David. His phone now said the number was no longer in service. She gave up at this point and tried to forget him. She moped around at work until her boss finally called her in. He was a good guy and soon got her talking. He heard her out and then picked up his phone, searched for a number and dialed. "Hey Mike, Stu Cooke here, I need you to do a 50 mile radius search. White male, 25 to 30, brown and brown, 6 feet, medium build, first name David, probably find him in stocks, financial, banking. This is personal so quick like bunny, my friend. Thanks, see you at the Carlson's on Saturday, bye." Chloe said, "I already ran a similar search, I got nothing." "Yeah, but you don't have the resources Mike has. His company does FR searches. If this David has had his picture published anywhere, the facial recognition software will find him. Now get out of my office, I have work to do." She stood up and said, "Thanks Boss man, you're the best." The next afternoon she got an email from FR Database. There was an attachment with pics of 64 men. She slowly went through them and about halfway through, there he was: David Wheeler wearing a tux and smiling shyly. She clicked on his pic and the press release the photo was from came up. It was a charity ball to raise money for, naturally, Pet Therapy Project. He was there as a representative for a private banking company. She ran a search on David Wheeler and found he worked for a private investment bank. No wonder she hadn't found him. Then she searched divorce court records and got an address. If she remembered the building correctly each apartment went for 2-3 million bucks. Suddenly she wasn't so sure finding him was a good idea. She had a good job but he probably made twenty times what she did. Why would he be interested in her? Her next thought was, money does not buy happiness, and she had every right to look for that happiness. Then she thought to herself, a court of law would not call it looking for happiness, they would call it stalking. Chloe wondered how she could meet him in the right circumstances. She couldn't just show up on his doorstep. She probably couldn't get past the doorman. His work was out too, but she could wait outside his work and then follow him, er stalk him. What the hell was wrong with her? She had never acted this way with any other guy, not even crushes in high school. This guy is everything you Don't want in a man. He's probably a workaholic, he's rich, he lives in a penthouse, she would be just another trophy wife. Wife! Oh no, not wife, where did that come from? She didn't know if he would ever speak to her again let alone want to marry her. Marry! My God, I am going crazy, he's going to call me 'bat-shit crazy lady.' The biggest question was still why. Why was she obsessed with this guy? And that's all it was, right? an obsession? She had gone out with quite few guys, some of them she had even had short relationships with. Her list of guys she had fucked and forgotten was fairly long. Most people would indeed consider her a slut. So why, why this guy? The voice in her head, the one with the answers, was obstinately quiet. Now, here's the plan, she said to herself. I'm going to stand outside where he works and let him see me. If he wants to talk to me he will approach me. If he sees me and ignores me, I will walk away and never think of him again. She had gone in early the next morning so she could leave in time to be at David's workplace when he came out. She had dressed casually in jeans and tennis shoes. Who knew how long she would have to wait on hard concrete. No way she was going to do that in heels. She cabbed over and got out. For a moment she thought the cabby had made a mistake. The address she wanted didn't seem to exist. She walked to the end of the block and found a number on the building so she turned and walked past a high limestone block wall to the other end of the block. It was a nice restaurant with the address etched in the glass above the door. Apparently the address was also the name of the restaurant. It had to be here she thought, banks, even private ones had to have a way to get in, didn't they? Halfway down the block was a small door recessed into the limestone wall. It had no writing or numbers on it. Then she noticed a business card sized brass plate embedded in the wall. All it had was the name of the firm David worked for. Well, she thought, at least that part went right. Then she realized she could not just stand on the sidewalk for untold hours. She decided she would go back to the restaurant and ask for a seat by the window and watch for him. She had a 50 50 chance of his walking that way. Then she had another thought. What if the main entrance was actually in the back of the building. She crossed the street to see if she could see something behind the wall. From that perspective she could just see the roof line of what was maybe a three or four story building that looked more like a mansion than an office building. She turned and looked at the building on her side of the street. It was an office building that looked like it had windows that overlooked the street on every floor. She went in and found a tenant board. She picked a firm on the top floor just in case someone asked what she was doing wandering around. She rode the elevator to the eighth floor and turned left when she got off. Sure enough there was a large window in the foyer. She walked over and looked down on the target. She giggled out loud. Target indeed, here she was, a female Tom Cruise, gathering intelligence for her mission. Then she snorted and thought, well that's about as real a scenario as the rest of what she was doing. Her target was a Greek Revival style mansion in four stories with a three story wing on each side. It was set toward the rear of the property and there was a nice courtyard and garden covering the area all the way to the wall. It looked as if the front door only served as an entrance to the courtyard area. That must mean the main entrance is actually in the rear of the building. Having finished her surveillance she made her way back to the street. She turned right when she got to the street. She went to the corner and crossed and continued down to the alley. The alley had an ornate metal fence with a large gate that stood open. She walked through the gate and saw it was paved with cobblestones and in good repair. It was also very clean, much cleaner that the street outside the gate. It was somewhat narrow for perhaps 80 feet then opened up on the right. The rear of the mansion was on her left. In the opening on her right were spaces for about twenty cars. They were nose in against a brick wall. Names were painted on the wall above each space. And there, the fourth space, in was David Wheeler's name. She stopped and looked at the car and was not surprised that it was a gray Lexus GS 350. "Pardon me miss, may I help you?" a voice behind her asked. She turned and looked up at a nice looking man in a security uniform. He was smiling and polite but what he had really asked was, what the fuck do you think you're doing? She returned the smile and explained, "I was just using this as a shortcut, is that all right?" "Of course miss, it is a public thoroughfare. We do however, like to keep an eye on the personal property of our clients and associates. You understand I'm sure," he replied with the same get the hell out of here smile. "Naturally, I just had to stop and admire this gorgeous piece of machinery. It's a beauty isn't It." His smile was genuine this time, "That it is miss, that it is." She gave him another smile and continued on down the alley. Shit, now what are you going to Miss Cruise? There was no place on either end of the alley to wait. What was she going to do anyway, jump out in front of his car. Well, if he were going fast enough that might be a solution. She walked back to the main street and looked around. In the opposite direction from David's building was a coffee shop. A SIGHTING. She headed that way, a mocha latte couldn't hurt, it might even help. She sat at the counter that faced out onto the street. She wasn't really paying attention to what was happening around her. She just sipped at her latte feeling sorry for herself. She looked out the window and across the street saw a bistro, an office supply place, a gym and a bakery. Typical downtown fare, nothing worth noting. Even the people were typical. Women in business attire, shopkeepers, bicycle messengers in bike shorts with colorful shirts with helmets, men in suits. Some of them were sharper than others in their Armani or Brioni. David looked very sharp in his Brooks Brothers three piece. Wait, what? It was David! There he was striding down the street carrying a gym bag. When he reached the gym he produced a key card and went in. She dashed out and, not looking, was nearly run over by a cab. She blew off his honk and an insult in a language she did not understand. The door was long closed by the time she got there. No amount of tugging or banging with both fists produced any results. She gave up and went back to the coffee shop. The only thing that kept going through her head was, I saw my David, I saw my David. Then she shook her head violently. He's not your David, asshole. He's just a guy who will probably be terrified when you confront him. Well, she thought, my mom will probably bail me out of jail when he has me arrested. She sat clutching her purse so she could rush out when he exited the gym. She jumped every time the door opened. Finally it was him. He had changed to a polo shirt and khaki pants. He had his gym bag in one hand and his suit on a hanger over his other shoulder. She rushed out and stood at the curb and yelled his name. He turned in confusion then saw her. He stood there staring for what seemed like an hour to her, but was really only two seconds. His gym bag fell out of his hand and his expensive suit fluttered to the dirty sidewalk. He never took his eyes off her as he crossed the street. Cars in both direction slid to a halt. Somehow he made it unscathed to her side. He stopped in front of her and looked into her soul. REUNITED. "You," was the only thing he said before bringing her into his arms. They stood there crying on each other for a long time. Then he held her at arms length and just...looked. He snapped out of it and cried, "My suit!" He grabbed her hand and this time looked before leading her across the street. He picked up his things and looked around. "We need to talk and I need a drink. Maybe many drinks." They walked down a block to a bar called Harry's. He asked her, "Martini's?" "Dirty with two olives." He told the waiter, "A pitcher of martini's, dirty, and a bowl of olives, please." "How did you find me?" he started, "no wait, let me go first. The night I left your place I was devastated. I really liked you and had screwed it up completely. I just wandered around not paying attention to where I was. It started raining again and I didn't have a phone to call for a ride. I flagged down a cab and went home. I came back the next day to apologize and I couldn't find your house. Do you know how many brownstone's there are in that area? I knew it was within a block or so of bat shit crazy lady and I swear I knocked on every door and asked a lot of very suspicious and wary people if they knew where Corey lived." She interrupted him, "It's Chloe, C H L O E." "Oh," he said frowning, "I guess that would make a difference huh" "Anyway I had no last name, where you worked, nothing to help me find you." he took her hands and said, "I have been lost without you. I can't focus, I can't sleep, my boss calls me Zombie man. So how did you find me?" "Well, I had your phone number and I tried that for days. I couldn't get through and finally it went out of service." "Let me explain that. On Monday I went to my carrier to get a new phone. I asked if they would transfer everything to my new phone. She started to

8 Jul 2026 - 1 h 0 min

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