I write stories - sexual stuff mostly.

A dash of BDSM, a pinch of vanilla & some romance too. Some fiction - some not. Some super short - some kinda long.

I guess I'm just another pervy girl writer amongst the sea of them on here.

I do hope you enjoy my dirty mind.

(This Blog is for 18+)

My Writing

My Dirty Thoughts

FAQ

Email: adirtymindedgirl@hotmail.com

 

Anonymous asked
I love you English professor story. Is there any chance you will be updating it or will you leave it the way it is?

That story has been such a thorn in my side. I wrote it a while back, and at the time I loved it, but since then it hasn’t been easy to continue. It’s funny because I know what will happen next but I cannot seem to put it into words.
It’s not finished, obviously. I hope to be able to keep writing more some day.

Anonymous asked
I talk extremely dirty to my boyfriend. we both explore our deepest fantasies, tell each other situations that we would love to stumble in, but i feel like i would never be able to live up to what i say. i havnt even lost my virginity yet. any advice?

I felt that way with my bf; we talked dirty a lot before we actually had sex. Looking back, I see how different it was than what our sex life really is. Talking dirty is more fantasy and arousal rather than real life situations. You use words and stories to turn each other on and it shouldn’t be held is such high regard as to how sex will be when you have it.

It’s funny - I feel like my bf was kinda disappointed with how I wasn’t exactly how my dirty persona was. It’s not that I lied. It’s still me. It’s still my fantasies but sometimes they just can’t be fulfilled in real life.

As for your message/situation, I understand and feel for you. Your guy may have this idea of you and how sex will be (if you two have sex, that is) but he really shouldn’t. You can’t know how someone is sexually until you have sex with them. And you know, you may even impress yourself with how you will be and what you will do :) So, I’d say not to worry too much about it. Just be you. Don’t try to impress him or be someone you aren’t with him. And if/when you do have sex and he says you aren’t how he thought you’d be (in a negative way), don’t feel bad. That’s his problem. You will be awesome. I promise :) Hugs!

Currently…

writing Curiosity. Let’s hope the wind doesn’t get knocked out of my sails.

How’s everyone’s night going?

Anonymous asked
Any tips for writing dirty stories? I'm not very good at telling detailed stuff and I want to turn on this guy. Love your blog by the way! :)

All you need is imagination. Seriously, it’s that simple. Writers are just story tellers. We pull from our own experiences, desires, wants, dreams and, at times, the deepest, darkest parts of our minds.

If you want to impress someone with your words, simply tell them a story. A story about what you want to do to them, perhaps.
How you long to be wrapped up against their warm skin, listening to their heart beat as they tickle your back.
Or how you want to trail your fingertips across every inch of their skin, teasing and exploring, driving them mad and having them at your mercy.
Or you could get real dirty and tell them how you yearn to have every inch of their magnificent cock shoved down your throat, spit dripping out the sides, your mascara running down your face as only grunts and gasps escape between each forceful thrust….

You don’t have to be a poet or an English major, especially if you wish to speak instead of write/type. Just channel your inner dirty girl and let loose!

Let me know how it goes 😉

Anonymous asked
What do you think is the dirtiest story you've every written?

The first 5 or so parts to Curiosity, definitely. There’s BDSM, threesomes, anal, forced orgasms, hand cuffs, face fucking, name calling, degradation, and more! Can’t get much dirtier than that, right? 😈

But since you did ask which “story” and not “part”, I’d have to choose Sunday, as a whole. It’s not as harsh as Curiosity but it’s up there.

Once More

Much awaited sequel to Just This OnceReblog/Like & Enjoy. <3

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"Working late again, Ms. Stevens?" A voice says. I let out a yelp and almost knock my mug of cold tea on myself. I glance up and see Mr. Tate standing over me with an unreadable expression on his handsome face. Its way past 6 p.m. on Thursday and I’m still not even close to being finished my workload. It’s been over a month since the promotion and I’ve been swamped with emails and extra work that I haven’t been able to accomplish within the normal 9-5 work day. It’s put a strain on my friendship with my co-workers, affected my sleep and overall health, and most importantly ceased all flirting and dirty looks between me and Mr. Tate weeks ago. These days I barely had a moment to myself and I felt like this madness would never end. It was getting to the point where I almost regretted this promotion and wanted my old, boring life back. Almost.

“I just have a few things to finish up, but I am leaving real soon,” I stammer, ruffling papers to try and cover up my nerves. He stands there in silence for a few minutes and I don’t have to look up to know he is staring intently at me.

“I admire your work ethic and the fact that you stop at nothing to get the job done, but…” I hold my breath. “You do seem awfully frazzled and overworked lately.”

"I—I do?" We lock eyes.

"You eat lunch at your desk and stay late most nights, don’t you?” I nod. I didn’t think he had noticed. “Is this job too much work for you?”

"No!" I snap and instantly regret it. I hate how easily he can rattle me. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

His eyes narrow and he shifts his weight. “I’m sure you can but I wouldn’t want you to burn out.”

"I won’t," I assure him.

"Well, listen, I think you need a little change of pace.”

“Are—are you firing me?”

"No. Of course not. You are my best worker,” I breathe a sigh of relief. “But I have a little side job for you - if you’re interested."

"Oh?"

"I need someone to fly to Portland and sit in on an important business meeting tomorrow."

"What would I be doing?"

"Listening, taking notes and maybe answering a few questions concerning the proposal. Basically, the Portland office is considering using the idea and since you are quite familiar with it, I thought you could handle it. It gives you the day off from working, plus you’d get to stay in a five star hotel tonight. Interested?”

“Sure.”

“Great. I will email you all the info right away. Just be ready by eight tonight. I will send a car.” He turns and walks into his office. I let out a big sigh and can feel my whole body start to relax. The list of emails doesn’t seem as daunting anymore and I lean back in my chair. I’m a bit nervous at the thought of being around the bigwigs in Portland but I look forward to the rest and relaxation of being away from this place.

~

I packed light, making sure to bring my very best suit and heels, and made it to the airport in record time to catch my flight. I was stuck on the aisle seat next to a woman with a stuffy nose. When I landed and caught the shuttle to the hotel, a note was waiting for me at the front desk.

• You are invited to have dinner in the hotel restaurant as soon as you are settled into your room.

It was late but I hadn’t eaten much today so I decided to take them up on the offer. I thought about going upstairs for a quick shower and change of clothes but my stomach wouldn’t stop growling.  As I stepped inside the dimly lit room I saw someone turn and wave me over. My jaw dropped. Mr. Tate? 

I manage to force my legs to walk over to his booth and sit down across from him. He looks different - less professional and more normal. He’s wearing a soft grey long sleeve shirt and dark pants. 

"Hello, Ms. Stevens. How was your flight? First class was pretty empty which was nice." He reaches for his glass of red wine and takes a sip. 

"You…you got first class and yet I got stuck in coach?" I mutter, reaching for my ice water.

"Did you?" He smiles. I had a feeling that he knew that already. “Would you like me to upgrade your return flight?”

“No, it’s fine,” I finish off the whole glass and take a deep breath. “You didn’t tell me you were coming too.”

“It was a last minute thing. It happens,” He says. Coincidence?

The waiter appears and hands me a menu. I scowl at the inflated prices and try to figure out which appetizer I can afford. The longer it takes, the more embarrassed I feel. Mathew must have sensed my dilemma and reaches over to take the menu from my shaking hands. 

"Here. Let me order for you." He orders us medium rare steaks, mashed potatoes and garden vegetables. My mouth is watering as I wait for the food to arrive. "It’s nice to see you in non-office attire." I blush and look down at my leggings and rumpled T-shirt. I chose comfort over style for the four hour plane ride.

"I—I didn’t know I was dining with anyone."  

"It’s fine. You look great. I also like your hair like that. You should wear it like that more often."

"Uh… thanks." I’m caught off-guard by his comments, especially since my hair is up in a loose bun and would never be appropriate for the office.

"I make you nervous, don’t I?" I don’t respond. "Is it because of that night at the office?" I blush even redder than before. "Do you think of it often?"

"No," I lie, fiddling with the cutlery. He stares over at me, trying to gauge me or figure me out. It only makes me more nervous.

"Me neither," He finally says, reaching for his wine glass and bringing it to his lips. The food arrives shortly after and I am thankful for the distraction. He orders more wine and pours me a glass without asking. We say a few things here and there but it’s awkward and the tension is thick. I find myself polishing off two more glasses in succession and by the end of the meal we’ve finished off the entire bottle. I’m feeling relaxed but a bit woozy since I normally don’t drink this much. When the bill arrives I watch him pull out an AMEX from his leather wallet.

"It must be nice to make all that money and live so lavishly," I say, without thinking. The alcohol is clearly starting to muddle my judgement.

"It’s not mine - it’s the companies," He retorts, leaving a healthy tip for the waiter. 

"Oh."

"But don’t get me wrong, I do quite well for myself and could cover the expenses if I had to."

"Right." I guess the rumors were true about his wealth, but it doesn’t change how I see him. Money isn’t important to me. We walk out into the lobby and into the elevator. I press the tenth floor button but he doesn’t move. “Which floor are you on?”

“Same as yours.” That surprises me since I would have figured he would have chosen the penthouse since the company is paying and he flew first class. I shrug it off and lean against the elevator wall for support to try and stop the dizziness. Once we step out, he follows me down the hall to my suite. I key myself in and open the door.

"Uh…thanks again for dinner."

"You’re welcome. Goodnight, Ms. Stevens. See you tomorrow."

I collapse in bed after shedding all my clothes. I try to watch TV but the alcohol mixed with the long flight is making me tired. I shut it off and crawl under the cover. It doesn’t take long for me to drift off to sleep.

Sometime later I wake to a knocking sound. I slip on the complimentary white robe and stumble over to the door but no one is there. I rub my eyes and hear it again. I realize it’s coming from the adjoining door between the rooms. I’m confused and a bit alarmed but I unlock it anyway. It’s dark but I can make out a shadow of someone standing there.

 ”Uh…Is everything OK?” I ask.

“No.” The figure steps closer and I realize it’s Mathew. He comes at me and grabs my face in his hands. I don’t resist. I just open my mouth and let in his eager tongue. He quickly removes my robe and runs his hands all over my body.

"Just the thought of you so close by drives me crazy!" He murmurs between kisses. Him having a room next to mine doesn’t sound like much of a coincidence but I’m not complaining. "I’ve had so many dirty dreams about you since that night in my office. Do you know how much I want to fuck you in the break room at lunch when everyone else is out and you’re left behind?"

"Jesus!"

"I’ve been tempted so many times - you have no idea." He kisses my neck. "I even get turned on by how hard you work. You’re always sitting there with that determined sexy face of yours typing away."

"Mr. Tate, I—" 

"There’s just something about you." He grabs me by my hips and pulls me against him. 

"I thought this was a one-time thing?" I whisper, feeling his cock throb against my skin.

"Once more won’t hurt," He whispers, pulling my hair and smashing his mouth against mine. We kiss – hungry and eager for one another. Pressing me against the wall, he gets on his knees and devours my pussy – letting his tongue slowly lap up and down my folds, making me shudder and moan.

“I lied earlier,” I murmur, scratching my nails across his shoulders. “At dinner. When I said I don’t think about that night we had. I think about it way more than I should. It was just so hot; the best sex of my life.”

“I know. I’ve seen the way you look at me at work. Teasing me with those eyes and making my cock hard when I’m trying to do work.” He slips a finger inside my pussy and slowly teases me. “But then it all stopped and I can’t handle it. I had to get you here. Get you away from all that stress and have you to myself.”

"So you planned this from the start?” I whisper, rolling my head back as he sucks my clit into his mouth and gives it a nibble.

"Of course. Does that surprise you?" I should’ve known.

"No. But it’s really fucking sexy," I purr. "I don’t think I’ve ever been with anyone who wanted me this bad."

"Shame. You’re irresistible." He slips another finger inside and starts to pump in and out. He plants kisses on my thighs and above my pussy just to drive me crazy. I reach down and tug his hair as my pussy clamps around his fingers. "That’s it. Cum for me." 

Tingles shoot up and down my spine as my pussy contracts and relaxes, pulling his fingers in deeper as I orgasm. Before I can even catch my breath, he stands up and drags me over to the bed. I’m at his mercy and I just let my whole body relax and give in. I fall onto my back and he tugs my head over the edge; positioning his cock against my mouth he shoves deep into my throat and starts to fuck me. I choke and scratch at his skin as I struggle to breathe.

“Inhale through your nose. That’s it. Good. Relax your throat. Fuck. Yes, like that.”

His long, deep thrusts began to quicken as spit spills down my face. He leans over and reaches out to slip his fingers inside my aching pussy. I roll my hips forward, raising my ass off the bed towards him, giving him more access to finger me deeper and harder. I moan against his cock, writhing around the bed, as his thumb grazes my clit sending me into an unexpected orgasm.

He pulls his fingers out and gives my ass a slap. “Fuck, Elena! Look at you. Spread wide with your tight, perfect pussy eagerly waiting to be filled.” He shoves in three fingers this time, stretching me open and making me cry out. He stops thrusting and just lets his cock throb inside my mouth. “I feel like I could do almost anything to you and you’d gladly take it.”

"Mmhhff." Is all that comes out when I try to respond to him. He pulls his cock out so I can answer properly. "Yes!" I gasp. "You can and I will."

"That’s hot. It makes me want you even more,” He groans and shoves his cock back in my mouth. I’m expecting it this time and I manage to relax enough not to freak out. He gets on his knees on the bed and flicks his tongue against my clit while he pounds me from both ends. I’m gasping and grabbing at him; the pleasure and fear mix together and all I can do is lay there and take it. His thick cock rams down my throat so fast that I have no control whatsoever.

The blood rushes to my head as he forces another orgasm from me and tortures my sensitive clit immediately after. I want to moan and scream and call him every name in the book. I tap on his back, signaling for a release and finally he pulls his cock free. I lay there gasping and coughing while he spins me around and places my ankles on his shoulders. My ass is off the bed making my stomach muscles scream out in protest. I’ve never been handled this way before. My body isn’t used to this.

“Mathew…” I gasp. He squeezes my tits as his cock presses gently against my entrance.

“What?” Our eyes meet and in the light of the moon pouring in through the sheer curtains I can see the heat and passion emanating from his.

“Please fuck me!”

He lets out a chuckle and nods. “Since you asked so nicely…” 

He grabs my hips and slides every inch of his manhood inside me. He is slow and methodical, at first, letting my neglected pussy get used to his girth. It feels like it’s been years since we last fucked, and yet my body responds as if it knows exactly what to do. His soft hand grips my face as he forces his fingers into my mouth. I eagerly suckle them as I meet his every thrust. His grunts get louder and all patience and care gets thrown out the window. A part of me wants him to slow down and make this last but the other part – the whore in me – wants it all. Right here, right now.

“I’m gonna cum,” I whisper, grasping his wrist with my hand and rolling my hips against him. Every inch of his cock slips inside me as my head rolls back and I cum with a shudder and a squeak. He pounds furiously into me and everything becomes a blur. I reach out and grab at his flesh as I cum once more.

“Yes. Take my cock,” He growls through clenched teeth. “Fuck. Oh fuck. I’m close… unf!”

Before I can open my mouth to tell him where I want his seed, he pulls out and sprays his cum all over my pussy and stomach – some even gets as far as my tits and chin. It’s his turn to gasp and pant as I lay there dizzy with desire.

“Whoa,” He murmurs, dropping my legs down and sitting beside me on the bed. I reach out and touch his back which is covered in beads of sweat. My legs are tired and won’t stop shaking. I close my eyes for just a quick second and I’m overcome with the urge to sleep. I don’t want it to end like this but I’m just too worn out to fight it. I feel him stand up and tuck my legs onto the bed. He manages to shift me up so that my head is on the pillow and covers me with a sheet. I hear him go into the bathroom and I lay there waiting for him to come back but pass out seconds later.

~

I awake the next day to an empty bed that still smells like us – like sex. I’m not surprised that he didn’t stay the night. This is strictly sexual – nothing more. I head into the bathroom for a nice hot shower and then lay out my clothes for the meeting. As I’m sitting on the bed with a mirror in one hand and my mascara wand in the other, Mathew walks through the adjoining door dressed in an ironed shirt and dress pants. He pauses when he sees me and his eyes dart across my familiar black lace panties and bra. My pulse quickens and I look away.

“Morning,” He says, clearing his throat.

“Good morning, Mr. Tate.”

“Can you help me with this?” He steps closer to the bed with his tie in his hand. I put away my makeup and kneel on the bed in front of him. I adjust his shirt buttons before slipping the silk tie around his neck. We are inches from one another and I can feel his breath on my cheeks. I notice his chest rising and falling rapidly as his eyes burn into mine. As I slide the finished knot to his throat, I glance down and see his erection pressing against his trousers. A smile escapes my lips as he reaches out and drags his finger along my jawline.

He sighs heavily. “This is bad,”

"What is?" 

"This. Us. I won’t be able to concentrate on anything today when I’ve got this image of you in my head. And last night too. God!” His thumb runs across my bottom lip. “This isn’t like me. You’ve got me all wound up."

"I know the feeling," I trail my hands down his shirt and settle at his waist. "So what are we going to do?"

"For starters, you’re going to get on your knees and please me with that dirty mouth of yours," He swiftly pulls me off the bed and puts me on the floor before him. "Then we have the meeting to attend to."

I unzip his pants and pull out his stiff cock. “And after that?”

"I have no idea."

Anonymous asked
So how much of your stories are fact and how much are fiction. You are great by the way

Love this question!

Most of my stories have some truth to them. From the dirty words spoken, to the place where it all happens, and even down to the personalities of the characters, but no story is completely factual. However, almost every sex scene pulls from my current sex life, or has my BF in mind - especially Curiosity.

The first four stories of the ‘7 Days’ series and Still Got It are pretty much factual stories of my current relationship. The Hotel series was something I emailed him when we were apart and is 100% inspired by us. Sunday is an unattainable fantasy of ours. The Chat Line stems from a personal experience of mine. The English Professor, Temptation & Just This Once are a few risque fantasies I’ve had throughout the years.

And the rest are pretty much just random ideas I’ve come up with that have little to nothing to do with my personal life or fantasies.

Voila!

Dirty Thought #9

I love the way you get so forceful with me, like you did last night. Your strong grip on my throat as you growl dirty things in my ear - calling me your Good Girl. Me gasping and writhing around with my legs spread wide hoping you’ll fill my pussy with whatever you want - fingers, tongue, cock, toys, anything! Instead you take what you want and mount my face; forcing yourself into my mouth and down my throat whether I’m ready or not. I choke and gasp and scratch at your skin but you aren’t letting up until I’m filled to the brim with your cum.

I’m at your mercy. I’m your little fuck toy. I’m yours for the taking and you’ll never hear me complain.

Fireworks

image

"Aww! Hot Drummer Guy is totally alone on New Year’s Eve," My best friend and roommate, Amy, said, as she gazed across the courtyard into our neighbour’s apartment. If he owned curtains he never used them. "Look! He’s standing in the kitchen eating his dinner for one surrounded by his cats."

"I’m sure he is just waiting to go out to some fancy party filled with skinny French models and caviar,” I grumbled.

"I hope so. No one as hot as him should be alone on New Year’s."

"Well how about you go tell him that then," I joked as I finished curling my hair for our party tonight. The apartment was decorated in lights and steamers and the alcohol and food tables were filled to the brim. It was going to be one crazy night.

"Once I have a few more cocktails in me, I just might," She giggled.

"Yeah right, Ames." She was obviously kidding. She wouldn’t dare. She promised that he was off limits ever since I told her I had a crush on him.

"You know what? I really should. You’ve been ogling him for almost a year now and maybe it’s time to just meet him and get it over with."

I scowled at her. “No way. I’m not like you. Guys don’t like me. I will just end up making a fool out of myself.”

"Pfft. Don’t be silly, Em. If you’d just relax and be yourself, guys would be falling all over you," I rolled my eyes. "Seriously. You can’t expect to find a boyfriend by hiding in your books and never putting yourself out there." 

"Maybe I’m happy being alone," I mumbled as the doorbell rang out.

"Yeah sure," She snorted. "I’ll get it." 

It was moments like these that I hated how different we were. She was a million times prettier and bubblier than me and if we could switch bodies and personalities, I’d have no problem getting any guy I wanted.

My mind flashed to the neighbour and I blushed instantly. He was extremely good looking – way out of my league – and had short hazelnut brown hair and green eyes. Lately he was rocking a neatly trimmed beard which hid his ridiculously adorable dimples. Countless times I’ve seen him almost naked through his floor to ceiling windows and I longed to run my hands across his hairy chest and manly body. From my bedroom window I would watch him putter around his apartment making food, playing the drums, reading or just simply sitting somewhere staring off into space. He intrigued the hell out of me and yet I was terrified of taking it further in fear of rejection.

I let out a heavy sigh and turned my attention back to getting ready. I wanted to at least try to have a good time tonight with our friends and not waste another night alone in my room. My hair was wavy and soft and I had on a shiny blue dress with black heels that I borrowed from Amy. She had even done my makeup bold yet complimentary to my pale skin and blue green eyes. I looked really pretty and I couldn’t wait to get some alcohol in me to loosen me up. I was hopeful that maybe this was the year that I would come out of my shell more and maybe, just maybe, I’d attract the attention of a great guy.

~

It wasn’t long before the party was in full swing. There had to be at least 50 people stuffed inside our apartment. Music blared and laughter filled the room as I attempted to make my rounds and socialize with friends and strangers. I got as far as the kitchen before getting sandwiched in between two drunken guys I didn’t know. They quickly cornered off a few other girls and the incessant flirting and drunken man handling commenced. I tried to laugh and shrug it off but I was uncomfortable and needed out. I managed to slowly but surely back out into the safety of the hallway to make my escape.

"There she is!" A voice called out. Amy appeared at my side and I couldn’t hide the surprised look on my face when I saw who she was hanging off of. "Reid, also known as Hot Drummer Guy, this is Emma, my roommate. Em meet Reid, the guy we’ve been peeping on."

My face flushed a deep red. “Uh hi.”

"Hello." Reid extended his hand and flashed me a toothy smile. He was dressed in a simple T-shirt and jeans holding a beer in one hand. He looked even more handsome in person.

"I told you I’d go get him. He didn’t have plans tonight so I invited him over." She gazed over at me with an excited, wide eyed look.

"I can see that," I muttered, clasping my hands together to stop from shaking.

"Nice place. It’s a lot different than mine. Very quaint and quirky."

"Emma would love to give you the grand tour, wouldn’t you?” She grabbed me by the arm and tried to pull me forward but I squirmed away.

"I, uh, have to check on something," I babbled and disappeared into the crowd. I couldn’t believe she would do that - just spring that on me and think it would work. I was livid and needed more alcohol to calm me down. I tossed back a few beers in the safety of the living room as I casually peered around for any sight of them. I bumped into a few works friends and chatted with them for a while, taking my mind off how frazzled I was. I was starting to relax when I spotted Amy and Reid standing close together by the bathroom. They were laughing and she had her hand on his waist. It wasn’t totally intimate but it was enough to make me extremely jealous and upset. I knew she’d snatch him away from me. Why did I ever think that our friendship meant anything? She was an opportunist who loved to flirt. What did I expect would happen when I left them together like that? I’m such an idiot.

"Who’s the hottie with Amy?" A friend asked, after following my gaze.

"Reid. He lives in the building."

"Damn. Look at his forearms and those eyes!  She always gets the studs. I wonder what her secret is."

"Isn’t it obvious? She’s gorgeous, funny, interesting, charismatic, and smart - you name it," I said. "Everything I am not," I muttered under my breath.

"Yeah I guess that helps," She sighed. "Oh well. I better start prowling for a midnight kiss partner before all the good ones are snatched up. See ya later."

I glanced at the clock. 10:28 p.m. Time was just ticking away. I debated on doing the same but my confidence was depressingly low tonight after what Amy pulled. Unless some decently cute guy hit on me first, this looked like another lonely New Years for me. I caught eyes with a few contenders as I looped around for more alcohol but nothing came about. Defeated, I grabbed my hidden champagne bottle from the back of the fridge and was about to hide out in my room when I bumped into Amy alone and drunk.

“Thanks a lot. You’re a shitty friend, you know that?” I snapped.

“Hey! What’s your problem? You should be thanking me,” She slurred.

“For what? Going behind my back and stealing my guy? Gee, thanks so much bestie.”

"I didn’t steal him. What are you talking about?"

“I saw you two together all cute and cozy. You didn’t waste any time weaseling your way in.” 

“Get real,” Her dark eyes blazed back at me. ”I was just being friendly. YOU were the one that ran off like a little coward. I couldn’t just abandon him.” 

I snorted back a laugh. “Well where is he now then? In your bed?” All the alcohol in my system was making me sound like a catty bitch.

"Oh get off it! I told you I wasn’t into him and that was the truth. He probably just left,” She shrugged. “Ya’know, I practically handed him to you on a silver platter and you wimped out so don’t go blaming me and making up crazy shit. I would never go behind your back like that and you know it.”

I studied her face and realized she was telling the truth. It was all just a misunderstanding. “OK fine. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, you better be,” She sighed, reaching over for a hug.

I started to feel light headed and woozy. “I need air,” I said, and slipped into my room and onto the fire escape. The moon was big and bright and the sky was clear - perfect night for stargazing.

"Hey there," A voice spoke out from the shadows, startling me.

"Jesus Christ!" I clutched my chest and reached my free hand out for the railing. I squinted but couldn’t make out a face.

"Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you."

"You aren’t supposed to be out here. This room is off limits," I snapped.

"Oh. Sorry. I didn’t know." The figure stepped out into the light and my heart began to thump loudly in my chest. "I’ll go," Reid said, standing up.

"No! It’s fine. Stay," I sat down on the window ledge and opened up the bottle. "Drink?" 

He nodded and took a swig. We sat there awkwardly handing the bottle back and forth looking away from one another.

“How long have you been out here?” I asked.

“I don’t know. A while. I’m not a big fan of crowds,” He shrugged.

"Me neither."

Without rhyme or reason, he just opened his mouth and began to talk. I listened and nodded, studying the little intricate lines and movement of his face - the way his eyes narrowed when he was deep in thought. He was open and vulnerable without meaning to be and I wondered if I was because of me or the alcohol.  I learned more about him in the next hour that it took years to do with my close friends. He was twenty seven and worked two jobs – a full-time assistant at his uncle’s tailor nearby and a few hours a week at a bookstore. He had four sisters, grew up in a small town a few hundred miles south of here and graduated college with a degree in history. He adored all animals and his two cats were named Leo and Chuck. He loved bluesy rock music, science fiction books, action films, earl grey tea and collecting antiques that he found throughout his travels in Northern Europe and New England.

At one point he paused to take a breath and shot me an apologetic look. “Gosh I’m sorry. I’m talking your ear off. I’m not normally like this. I just feel really comfortable with you,” I smiled to myself. “So, please, tell me more about you.”

"I’m boring, really. There’s nothing to me."

"Oh come on. That’s not true. What do you like to do in your free time?"

"I—I don’t get out much," I sighed. "But I, uh, like to read."

"Yeah? What kind of books?"

"Poetry, literature, mystery, trashy novels - you name it; I’ve read it."

"Nice. It’s good to be open-minded like that. If you ever feel like venturing downtown, I can get you a good deal at the book store if you want." He smiled.

"Thanks. That’s nice of you to offer."

"No problem. So what else? Tell me more." 

I didn’t know what to say so I just took a deep breath and let the words pour out. I went on about my childhood, family, travels, hopes and dreams. I found myself spilling my guts to this handsome stranger while his eyes never left mine. There was this warm, comfortable vibe between us that made it easy to be myself. Our conversation began to flow back and forth and I quickly became enthralled with him. Hung on his every word. His voice bore deep into my soul, breaking down my walls and gently putting my usual worry some and defensiveness at ease. He spoke to me as if we had been lifelong friends. Nothing was off limits. Then the conversation dipped into deeper territory - love and relationships and all the sensitive subjects. He cherished his current state of single solitude and bliss but longed for a companion - someone that was a yin to his yang. 

"I haven’t dated anyone in a long time., I said. I was too embarrassed to admit that it was over 10 years ago. "I’m too shy and awkward. Amy says that it puts guys off."

"I don’t get that vibe from you at all. You seem perfectly normal and open to me."

"It must be the alcohol," I laughed. “I’m never like this when talking to guys.”

“Maybe I’m special.” His eyes seemed to sparkle as he smirked back at me.

“Maybe.”

As the bottle became lighter and our lips became looser, he let out a nervous laugh and looked off into the distance.

"I have a confession to make," He said.

I swallowed the lump in my throat as my heart started to beat faster. “Okay…”

"You and your friend aren’t the only ones doing the peeping." 

"What?"

"I’ve been eyeing you for a while now."

"Me? You watch me?" He had to be kidding.

"Don’t be so shocked. You’re gorgeous," I blushed. "I love how you spend most nights sitting right here. You aren’t distracted by the traffic sounds or the bright city lights. You seem so peaceful and relaxed."

"I grew up in the country and I miss the outdoors. This isn’t the most ideal setting out here but it’s better than nothing."

"Yeah, that’s for sure." 

"I love stargazing and sometimes sneak up to the roof for a better view."

"I know. I’ve seen you. I debated on following you up there a few times." We locked eyes once again.

"How come you didn’t?"

"I don’t know. I guess I didn’t want to bother you., He ruffled his hair. “Plus I wanted to meet you in a more normal circumstance at first."

"What do you mean?"

"Like in the lobby or elevator or somewhere neutral where it didn’t look like I was stalking you."

"This is so crazy!" I gushed. "I can’t believe you’ve been watching me the whole time I was watching you."

"Just a couple of creepy weirdo’s, we are." We burst out laughing.

"Everyone get ready to count down," A voice shouted from inside.

"Shit. It’s midnight already?" I craned my neck to glance inside the living room window to see the Time Square ball slowly falling on the TV.

"10, 9, 8!" They called out. Reid moved over and sat next to me

"7, 6, 5!" We joined in the count. My nerves were tingling with anticipation and excitement of being so close to him. This was all so surreal.

"3, 2, 1!" We shouted in unison. Everyone inside cheered and the sounds of pots and pans banging around the building echoed around us. I gasped in awe as fireworks burst into the sky filling it with a bright white light. Soon more colourful bursts and bangs followed and it reminded me of festivities back home which made this moment a million times more special.

"Happy New Year, Emma." Reid pulled me close for a hug, catching me completely off guard. I hugged him back and stared up at him with a starry eyed expression. Without missing a beat, he leaned down and kissed me. My lips responded before my brain could comprehend what was going on. I kissed him back, cradling his head and pressing myself against his strong chest. When we finally pulled back, he let out a low whistle.

"I’ve never done that before," I blurted out.

"What? Kissed a guy?" He teased.

"No!" I blushed, looking away nervously. "Had a New Year’s kiss, silly."

He slipped his arm around my back and gave me a squeeze. “Well if I have my way, you’ll be doing a lot more of it before the sun comes up.”

I blushed and tried to bury my face in his armpit but he gently nudged my face a few inches from his.

"I’m glad we finally officially met," He said.

"Me too. I think 2014 is going to be the best year yet."

"Definitely!" He said and leaned down for another sweet kiss. 

Snowed In

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I was standing by the stove absentmindedly daydreaming as I waited for the kettle to boil. A two foot blanket of snow had fallen throughout the afternoon leaving both me and the whole house freezing cold. It was almost dinner time and I was waiting impatiently for my blind date to arrive. I had cooked up the best chicken dinner with roasted vegetables and it smelled amazing. If this new guy had a thing for good cooks, he was sure to like me. I was nervously pacing around the kitchen going over my to-do list when the knock on the back door startled me. I spun around and my stomach jumped up to my throat. I glanced at the clock. He was early. Unlatching the door, I yanked it open and instantly frowned.

"What are you doing here?” I grumbled, looking back at my ex-fiancé. The love of my life. Bane of my existence. My Achilles heel.

Emmett eyed me up and down, noticing every little detail about me - a trait of his I used to love but now made me quite uncomfortable. I shifted my body behind the door and repeated my question once more.

His grey eyes met mine. “I tried calling. You changed both numbers.”

It was one of my New Years resolutions. I needed to move on with my life and it was a necessary step. So was agreeing to this blind date that was surely going to be ruined if I didn’t get this pest out of here as soon as possible.

"Yes I did. Now what do you want?" I pressed.

"I need my snow tires. They’re in the garage."

I grabbed the key off the wall hook and a handed it to him. “How long will you be?”

"Why? You’ve got a hot date or something?" I could tell that he was fishing for info. I wasn’t biting.

"Just hurry up please." I crossed my arms over my chest and stepped back. I felt vulnerable and unsure of myself around him still. I had hoped it would have dissipated by now as it had been months since we were a couple. We were once one of those sickly sweet madly in love kind of couples. We finished each other’s sentences, loved the same food, music and hobbies, and seemed to have an easy time making it work while balancing work and play. We were talking about marriage and our future together just before I found out his dirty little secret. He begged for forgiveness and said it was a mistake that happened back when we were still trying to get to know each other. But I couldn’t forgive him and ended up kicking him out of the huge farmhouse I inherited from my grandparents. I missed him like crazy and cried myself to sleep for weeks. But not now. Now I was over him and ready to move on.

He turned around and jogged towards the detached garage. The snow was falling faster now and sticking to the ground which was a bad sign. I went back inside and checked my phone. No messages. Richard was hopefully on his way here and Emmett would surely be long gone before then. I tried not to stare out the window at my ex but it was hard. Why did he have to show up today of all days? The one time that I’m expecting a date - my first since being single. This wasn’t fair. I hated my luck.

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