Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.
You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.
Click hereExcept -- I didn't know, did I? That's what he'd told me, but I had no way of knowing whether any of it was true...
"Oh God," I breathed, an icy chill displacing the heat of my flushed skin, the rapid transition leaving me clammy. Had I just been incredibly, mind-bogglingly stupid? Had I just fallen for the oldest trick in the book?
What if he hadn't been waiting for a blind date? It hadn't seemed very likely, after all. A good-looking man like Adam would surely have no problem attracting the opposite sex. What if he used that line about being stood up on a different woman every other night of the week? And what about Claire? What if he'd conjured up a story about a dead wife to use as a highly effective device to get women to feel sorry for him -- to lure them into his bed?
I covered my face with my hands, groaning softly. Now I really was being stupid. Of course it hadn't been like that. Had it?
I'd read about confidence tricksters in the newspapers, arrogant enough to believe that I'd never be so gullible -- I'd never be so naïve. But when it came to men, when it came to sex, Iwas naïve. Lisa had been telling me that for years.
So when Adam had told me that he hadn't had sex since his wife died, I'd believed him. When he'd told me that he'd been with Claire for ten years, I'd believed him. And when he'd told me he'd never had unprotected sex...
By the time the bus drew up outside my block of flats I was weak with fear. The hundred yards or so to the front door had never felt further, the tenderness between my thighs a grim reminder of the risks I'd taken. Finally managing to wrestle my way through the front door, my shaking fingers struggling with the key, I turned into the bathroom and snatched up a slim blister packet from the shelf above the sink.
"No," I whispered disbelievingly, staring at the writing above the single empty pod on the end, a further twenty pills still intact behind the foil. "Oh, God -- no..."
*
Thanks for reading me. I'm still very new to all this so all comments and advice would be very gratefully received.
Just as willingly as I rode the elation, you pushed the fear down my throat whether I wanted it or not (didn't).
Though I'm trying to be confident that Adam is wealthy and going to use his resources to find her... well hell, *I* could find her: Just call the schools and ask to speak with Claire!
I hope he is at least as resourceful.
J
at least to that chapter. I imagine that he'll simply call all the local preschools and ask for Emma... that's what I'd do.
As to her panic, she really could not have forgotten the meal at The Mill, and how exclusive it is, and how he had a reservation - that he was dressed for. OK, so she could forget in a panic, but seriously she damned well better remember or she's got sawdust between her ears :/
J
let's hope Adam finds a way to call her. and the bus driver is wrong.
beautiful story.