The Fairy Tale Lover

Chapter One

I had watched the other students in my American Literature class file out of the classroom before walking up to Mrs. Tammy Billings' desk to await whatever she had asked me to stay after for. I could easily see the latest chapter of the romance novel I was writing sitting in front of her, and I naturally assumed that the coming discussion would have something to do with that. Once she had finished writing down some things in a chart, she placed the chart in one of her desk drawers and then looked up at me.

"Steven, how old are you?" she asked.

"I just turned eighteen last month," I replied.

"Good," she said. "Would you be interested in sharing a cup of coffee with me after school? I'd really enjoy discussing your novel with you in a more relaxed environment."

Wow, I thought to myself. This thirty-seven-year-old brunette beauty with her attractive, shoulder-length hair and deep brown eyes had just asked me to join her for coffee so that we could discuss a romance novel I was writing in which she was the woman I had secretly based the older female character on. My heart was alive with excitement at the possibilities that had just suddenly presented themselves to me.

"I would like that very much," I replied. "Where would you like to meet?"

"Do you know where the Lexington Diner is?"

"Sure."

"I'll meet you there right after school then?"

"Absolutely."

Not only could I not help staring at this amazingly beautiful woman, but I also couldn't possibly have failed to notice the way she was looking at me. It made my stomach feel as though some unseen hand had reached in and was tying it into one giant knot that was getting increasingly tighter with each passing second.

"Well you should go to your next class," she said, "and I'll see you after school."

"Okay," I replied.

Although I found it quite difficult to turn away from her, I walked out of the room and down the hall with the feeling of being in love as an overwhelming presence inside me. But there was also a worry that she was going to meet me just to talk, with no possibility of romance being in our future; however, my mind kept zeroing in on the way she had been looking at me as a hopeful sign that my worry was unjustified. I would find out soon enough, but the wait would be agonizing as the time seemed to creep by so slowly.

When the end of the school day finally did arrive, I wasted no time in getting what I needed from the locker and walking briskly out to the student parking lot where the truck my dad had bought for me was waiting to take me to Tammy. The thought occurred to me as I was approaching the truck that I had not told her I had a vehicle and didn't use the bus to get home. We all knew she drove a red corvette with a license plate that read "TAMSTOY." But how had she known I would be able to get to her without a ride?

Normally I enjoyed listening to various kinds of upbeat music on my drive home, but that day my mind was so awash in thoughts of the lovely woman I was about to meet casually at the diner that music simply didn't appeal to me right then. I made the drive with only the several scenarios I imagined becoming reality to entertain me until I pulled my truck into the parking space alongside where her car was parked. Upon getting out and looking at our two vehicles, I found myself somewhat impressed by how they looked together. Her sporty red car next to my black Dodge Ram, for some reason, gave me a heightened feeling of confidence as I entered the diner and saw her sitting in a booth located in a noticeably empty area.

"Hi Mrs. Billings," I said as I got to the booth and sat down across from her.

"Steven," she said with a smile, "as long as we're not in school, it's okay to call me Tammy."

"Okay, Tammy," I said, also with a smile.

The different venue we found ourselves in seemed to only make the knot in my stomach more apparent than ever, and this was only aided by my awareness of me sitting in the same booth with a woman whose physical beauty had already cracked my heart open, allowing oceans of desire to flow out uncontrollably. In the beginning of the school year I had looked on Tammy as all teenage boys might. She was beautiful and attractive but probably off-limits, and so I had also paid attention to other girls my own age, several of whom I had dated and broken up with already. But now I doubted that I would ever look at another female again if this worked out the way I so desperately wanted it to, though I knew that for that to happen, I would really have to be careful, yet cunning.

"I know I asked you to have coffee with me," she said, "but I'm a little hungry. Would you mind if we ordered something?"

"No, I'm hungry, too," I said, suddenly very thankful that I had followed my dad's advice and saved more money than I spent. I felt instinctively for my wallet because I knew that I had more than enough to cover whatever I ordered, and this was important because I didn't want her having to pay for both of us.

It was Tammy's suggestion that we order a twenty-piece plate of hot wings to share, and so after ordering that, as well as our beverages, I found myself even more hopeful because of the fact that rather than eating two separate lunches, we would instead be eating the same thing from one plate. Although I tended to be a skeptical person at times, this just had to be yet another sign that perhaps I did have a future with her after all. I decided to test this feeling by floating a question that wouldn't be too obvious and yet would have to reveal something in the way of my being right or wrong.

"May I ask you something?" I said.

"What is it?" she replied.

"When you invited me here earlier, you didn't ask me if I needed a ride or if I had one of my own? That tends to make me think that it was either an oversight on your part, or you knew that I did have a ride."

Tammy smiled. "Let's put it this way," she said. "I knew that when you got here you'd be in a big, black truck."

"You saw me in it before then?" I asked.

Tammy nodded.

The waitress came over with our drinks and sat them on the table. "Your wings will be out in a few minutes," she said before walking away.

"Thank you," I replied.

Tammy watched her walk away and then resumed looking at me. "You're looking for me to give you a clue, aren't you?" she asked.

I seemed to know that she was on to me, and at first I was about to play stupid by asking her what she meant. In fact, I had even opened my mouth to do just that. But I caught myself and then abruptly looked right at her. "And which clue am I specifically looking for?" I asked.

Her smile grew bigger. "You want me to tell you something that will stop your worrying and confirm that I'm interested," she replied.

A few seconds of brain fog gave way to a simple but nervous-toned "Yeah."

The smile began leaving her face, being replaced by a much more serious, almost passionate, look. I watched as she reached under the table and did something to her foot, and then almost immediately I began to feel her foot rubbing up and down on my leg. I felt it go up and down three times before she stopped and began smiling again.

"How's that?" she asked.

"Um, yeah," I replied nervously. "That was about what I was looking for."

"Do you want to know why I'm interested?"

A simple nod was all I could muster after that very obvious sign she had given me. My tongue was simply frozen in disbelief, something I felt was not a good thing and had to be rectified.

"I'm going to be brutally honest with you," she said. "I'm a very passionate woman, and I've dated many, many men in my life. And I've slept with most of them. It's a sad reality that I've used sex in an effort to find the perfect man, and I failed miserably. I have heard from my friends countless times that the guy I'm looking for just doesn't exist, except in romance novels and the like. And I was beginning to believe that they were right until I began reading the chapters you were turning in. And though I never told you, I also looked for your name on the Internet and found the erotic stories site where you had posted three other stories, all with the same level of intensity, eroticism, and passion that your current one has. And that is exactly what I've been looking for.

"I've been looking for a man who can say the things you do through your characters. A man who knows a woman's body and can, as your character Charlie said, make it sing to the heavens. And a man who knows how to kiss and sweep a woman truly off her feet and make her feel like she's been whisked away by a dream lover who just stepped out of one of those romance novels we women like to read from time to time. And I'll tell you something else, too. When it comes to romance novels, I've never read anything by a man that was even close to being as good as what a woman can write. That is until you. I don't know how you do it, or why you're so different from other guys. But I knew as soon as I read those other stories you put on the Internet that you might just be someone I would be interested in learning more about. "

"And our age difference doesn't bother you?" I asked, now sincerely devoted to the mature level this conversation had taken.

"Hon, my sister married a man twenty-two years older than her, and the three years they've been together have been the happiest in her life. I know there are issues to be considered, but if it can work for them, then I'm not going to fret about age."

"You know it's a little hard to fathom how we have come in just one day from being teacher/student to being, well, whatever we are now. But I'm sure it's more than teacher/student. I wasn't aware that my stories had had that much of an effect on anyone really."

"Well you can pat yourself on the back then."

"So can I ask if you've ever been married or have any children?"

"One marriage and no children. I've been told that I can't have children, which doesn't bother me because I wouldn't be able to enjoy life as much if I was to have a baby."

"Well I hope you'll forgive my curiosity, but can I ask you why you got divorced?"

"I was young. I got married when I was seventeen to a loser who treated me like dirt and thought it was perfectly okay to beat the shit out of me. I'll bet you didn't know that my teeth are all false. My husband knocked so many of them out that I had to get the rest pulled."

"Tammy," I said suddenly feeling extremely uncomfortable. "Please don't ever bring that up again. I can't stomach the thought of anyone hurting you. I just can't. You're like some goddess to me, and it's inconceivable that anyone would want to hurt someone as beautiful as you." I shook my head in disbelief. "Now I'm going to be tortured day and night thinking about some asshole punching you in the mouth and knocking your teeth out. It fills me with such rage, and all I want to do is find the bastard and knock his teeth out."

Tammy reached across the table and rested her hand on mine. "It's okay," she said. "I won't bring it up again."

"Well let's change the subject, shall we?" I said. "What do you think of my current story?"

"Well the first thing I remember about it was how surprised I was that it was written so well," she replied. "When you first told me that you could write and wanted to turn in chapters in a book you were working on instead of what the others were doing for the assignment, I believed you enough to agree, but I had no idea you could write that well. I have read so many romance novels, all of them written by women. And when I finished your, I think it was the third chapter, yeah your third chapter, I couldn't believe how powerful and intense it was. All my life I've wanted to hear a handsome and dashing man say things to me like I was reading, and the fact that the person who wrote those words was a man was nothing short of astonishing. And your talent, and it is a very big one, is that you have an almost perfect way of turning someone's emotions into words that have the ability to make the reader feel those same emotions. That was incredible!"

"Did you wonder what it was going to be like when they got intimate? I mean were you worried about feeling kind of icky reading about a sexual encounter written by one of your students?"

"Oh no, not at all. I knew it had to be coming. Even though she kept resisting his advances, it was so obvious that the sexual tension between them was so powerful that they had to eventually make love. And, if you want to know the truth, the last chapter before they had sex left me hanging when it became clear they were going to be making love in the next chapter. When I got to the end and found that I was going to have to wait until the following week to find out what their experience was going to be like, I wanted to call you on the phone and demand that you bring in that chapter the next day so I could read it."

"Why didn't you? We all turned in our phone numbers, and you would have seen that I gave you my cell number as well as my phone number."

"Well it wasn't just the idea of your parents wanting to know why their son's teacher was calling him late at night. I was so overwhelmed with passion by then that I was beginning to realize just how attractive and interesting you were, and I was a little nervous about that. Believe me. That's never happened before. I went to bed thinking mostly about what was coming in the book, but here and there I thought about you and whether you really were anything like the men in your stories. And each time I did, I felt this excitement and I would stop thinking about it because it frightened me."

"Okay here you go," said the waitress as she came up to the table and laid the plate of wings down along with several smaller plates. "Is there anything else you need?"

"No, that will be fine," I replied.

"Well just let me know if you need anything else," she said.

"We will," I answered.

The waitress walked away, and as soon as I was comfortable with her distance, I looked at Tammy and continued with our conversation.

"Before you eat anything, I really would like to know what you thought about the chapter in which they did make love," I said.

"Do you want the truth?" she asked seriously.

"Yes," I replied, thinking that maybe it hadn't been as good as I had thought it was.

"I can't believe I'm going to tell you this," she said as she lowered her head.

For a few moments I felt as though I was being left hanging because of the clear intent in her words to tell me something that would undoubtedly excite me, perhaps even sexually. Then I watched her look back up at me with a very nervous, partial smile on her face.

"I was so hot and wet by the time I finished reading that," she said. "That was the most erotic and beautifully-written sexual scene I had ever read, and it just blew me away."

Just then she motioned with her finger for me to draw close to her. I stood up as much as I needed to until I was able to lean forward and meet her face about halfway across the table, with about an inch or two separating our lips.

"I had to masturbate twice before I could finally fall asleep," she whispered before sitting back down.

I was speechless and probably had my mouth open as I stared at her in complete shock. There could be no doubt, I thought to myself, that an admission like this from such a beautiful woman could only mean that love was in the air, and I was inhaling as deeply as I could. Tammy must have known the effect her words were going to have on me because she acted like it with her grin and the way she looked at me so sensually. I could have been wrong, but that look seemed as though it was clearly giving away her romantic interest in me.

It took me almost a full minute before I was able to respond to her. "Well I'll have to keep that in mind as I get closer to the end," I said fighting to keep my smile from stretching from ear to ear.

Tammy laughed. "Well the next time they make love," she said, "I'm going to need someone there with me to do, um, what needs to be done afterwards. Any suggestions?"

My heart could have stopped beating right then and there. I had just been subtly invited over to her place at some future time to make love to her, and I was finding it extremely difficult to control the subsequent feelings that were unleashed inside me as a result. "Uh, I'm available," I said very nervously with a few slight nods of my head. "Yeah."

Tammy laughed heartily and again put her hand on mine as if to say that she was laughing, not at me, but at how I had responded.

We continued to talk as we ate, and by the time we were ready for our checks, Tammy asked the waitress to combine both bills into one.

"What are you doing?" I asked anxiously after the waitress had walked away.

"I'm gonna pay it," Tammy replied.

"Absolutely not," I said firmly.

"Why?" she asked, obviously surprised by my tone.

"Because I refuse to do anything that might be seen as taking advantage of you. I have money. I'll pay my bill."

Tammy looked stunned. "You're not taking advantage. I just want to do this."

"I know, but I don't want you to. Forgive me for being so old-fashioned, but some guys, including me, don't feel right when a woman pays the bill. It makes me feel cheap and unimportant."

"Oh Steven," she replied with a sympathetic look. "If these were the old days, do you think I would have made the move on you like I did?"

"Well how about you be modern and I'll be old-fashioned, at least as far as paying the bills for dinner is concerned. I have enough money to pay both our bills, but I just don't have enough on me. Listen, when I look at you, I see a woman whose been hurt. I see a heart that still beats in hope that the right one will come along, but which bears the scars of all the wrong ones that already came along. Unless you could step inside me and feel what I am feeling right now, you just won't understand my insistence that I pay my own bill."

I stood up once more until I was able to lean across the table. "Come here," I said.

Tammy again met me halfway, and I quickly gave her a brief, yet passionate kiss using only my lips. I expected to see a surprised look on her face, and yet the passionate look that was there before I kissed her remained unchanged. I glanced around for a nanosecond to see if what I had just done had been observed, but it appeared that we were safe as none of the paltry few diners and even fewer staff seemed to have noticed.

"I feel like I want-" I paused for a moment due to the extreme level of nervousness I was suddenly feeling. "I feel like I want to take care of you for the rest of your life." I sat back down and bit my upper lip for a moment as I considered how I needed to present what I really wanted to ask her. I looked back at her to see that she was motionless and gazing at me as though she was waiting to be kissed and embraced right then and there. "What are your plans this weekend?" I asked.

Tammy shook her head slightly. "I have some things to do regarding class," she replied, "but other than that I'm completely free."

"Have you ever been camping?" I asked after a big sigh.

A smile returned to her face. "Not since I was very little," she answered.

"Well I know a place about four hours from here that would have inspired Monet to no end. It's so beautiful up there, with mountains everywhere you look and a cabin right smack in the middle of it. My uncle owns it, and he's told me that when he's not using it, I'm free to use it whenever I want. I've the key right on my key chain. All that's needed for one weekend where two people can talk and, well, hold each other without ever worrying about being interrupted is your consent to going with me there."

The look of passion returned to Tammy's face as she nodded. "I'd love to go," she said, "but do we have to wait until this weekend to be alone?"