Busted

Authors note: After my first story was published, I got to thinking about what would happen if the woman I based the female character on read the story and recognized herself. That thought was the genesis for this story. Reading Old Folk's Boogie before this will make some of the references clear.

*****

After what seemed like endless false starts and bouts with cold feet, I had completed and published my first story on the leading erotic story site on the web. It was semi-autobiographical and triggered by fantasy thoughts of a woman who lives nearby. Apparently the story was coherent, without significant syntax errors, and contained enough sex to keep the readers interested. It generated quite a few complimentary comments and way more "likes" then I ever considered possible. Spurred on by my success, I started on a second chapter a few days after the first was published.

The basic premise of the second story came to me as a masturbatory fantasy (sorry, some puns I can't resist). With the action sketched out in my mind, I started to work on developing it into a satisfactory story and creating the dialog for the characters. It was during this time that my phone rang, and my heart jumped, as I saw it was my muse, the real "Tracy", the character in my story. I slid the tab and answered my phone "Hi, Tracy".

"Hey there. I was hoping to catch you while you were walking the dog but I don't see you when there's daylight anymore."

"Yeah, I stick to shorter walks around my block this time of year. Saturday and Sunday she usually gets a longer walk, but during the week, there's no time for longer walks in the morning and after work it's dark, so we stick to the shorter walks around the block. Much less traffic means there's less chance of us getting hit by some driver who can't see us in the dark."

"I can understand that. How are you doing otherwise? Getting used to being a bachelor?"

"Slowly. I'm eating pretty well, no dinners from McD's or the other fast food establishments. I'm keeping the bills paid and my clothes are clean, so all things considered I'm doing OK. Daytime, it's pretty easy to find something to do, but the nights do have a tendency to get a bit lonely. I have started volunteering at the Bijou downtown when they have concerts or other events."

"Cool, what do you do there?"

"Scan tickets, help people find their seats, wander around looking cute, whatever they need."

She laughed at my answer. "The reason I called is that I was wondering if you are an author."

"Say what? An author, no. The only thing I ever wrote was a do-it-yourself manual on building a solar water heater back when I was about 30. Why?" Oh, Fuck, I thought. It never occurred to me that she might have read my story.

"Well, I read a short story last night and there were so many points that seemed just like your life and mine. I guess it was just coincidence and an over active imagination on my part." she said as I came to the realization that I was very close to being busted.

"Where did you see this story, in a magazine or a collection of short stories? Maybe I should read it to see if I agree that it sounds remotely close to you or me."

Tracy hesitated before telling me it was on-line but she couldn't remember exactly where she had read the story. Now I was sure she had read my story and recognized herself. I couldn't resist using this information to tease her and string her along. "Have you checked your browser history? It should show you what websites you've visited and that might refresh your memory."

"I have no idea how to check my browser history." she said.

I tried to tell her over the phone how to do it, deliberately making it sound like an impossible task for anyone who wasn't a computer geek. When she stammered that it wasn't something she could ever do, I offered to come down and help her since she had piqued my curiosity about the story and really would like to read it now.

After a moment of silence she continued hesitantly "Well, it was on a site for adult readers that I visit occasionally."

"You mean it was on a porn site?" I replied trying to shocked but in reality trying to keep from laughing hysterically.

"It's not porn...well, some of it I guess you could call porn, but most of the stories are erotica. I visit there when I need to pick up my mood."

I started to crack up laughing which prompted Tracy to yell "DON'T LAUGH AT ME!"

I got myself under control. "I'm not laughing at you, I'm laughing at the absurdity of the situation. Yes, I did write the story and yes, the female character is based on you."

"What if someone else finds the story and recognizes us." Tracy steamed.

"How could anyone recognize us except us? No one else was privy to the conversation that I based the story on. Unless you recorded the conversation and played it for all your friends and co-workers."

"Very funny" she snapped. "Well there's other things that people could recognize."

"Like what? Every town in America has widowers and divorcees. Every town in America has people with dogs and people who are remodeling their houses. Every town in America has people with kids and grandchildren. And almost every town in America has a Lowe's within twenty miles. Nothing in the story is unique to either your life or mine."

"I could lose my job if it gets out."

"No you won't. First of all, you didn't write it. And second, you can deny even knowing about it's existence. Your union would have a field day with that one."

She finally settled down and admitted that the possibility of anyone recognizing either of us from the story were remote at best. "But you could've at least asked permission to use me as the basis for your character."

"Oh, sure, I was just going to call you up and say 'Hey, I'm writing an erotic story, do you mind if I base to female character on you?' I'm sure that would've garnered a swift approval."

Tracy chuckled "I guess I see your point."

Now that we seemed to be able to have a normal conversation I had to ask the question that was at the top of my mind. "So, did you like the story?"

"I honestly did. At least until I thought about it and suspected you wrote it about me."

"Well, I'm glad you enjoyed it, even if only for a little while."

"I saw in the comments that it was the first story you submitted. If it is, you did very well with the three S's."

"The three S's?" The term had me totally confused.

"Yes, spelling, syntax and sex. Something all the best stories there have."

"I think I'm going to make a sign to place next to my monitor", I chuckled. "Concentrate on the 3 S's!!"

"Overall I thought the plot at least made sense from a situational standpoint and I liked that you didn't make yourself some kind of 70 year old sexual superman. The sex was a little too 'by the numbers' compared to a lot of the stories there but that's a minor quibble on my part."

"Hey, I'm only sixty-nine. Don't make me older than I already feel."

"Are you going to write more stories?"

"I am working on a second chapter for 'our' story and perhaps one about another muse of mine. Since I've been busted, would you like to read Chapter 2 before I submit it? You could act as my editor and correct my mistakes and offer suggestions about plot development."

"Wait, let me get this straight. You want me to proofread and edit a story written by a guy who wants to fuck me. And the story is about how he is going to fuck me. And then you want me to offer suggestions as to how or where he should fuck me?"

"That pretty well sums it up. Although I prefer to think of it as we're fucking each other, and that you're not just the poor damsel in distress." I hoped my facetious tone carried over the phone.

After a moment of silence, Tracy laughed "You're right, I remember in your story that I did carry some of the action so I guess I should say 'You want me to proofread and edit a story written by a guy who wants to fuck me. And the story is about how we're going to fuck. And then you want me to offer suggestions as to how or where we fuck?'"

"Now you've got it. You game?"

After a brief pause, she answered "You know it might be fun. And I admit that being the object of desire in a story that might be read worldwide is good for my ego as well."

Now it was my turn the laugh "OK, give me your e-mail address and I'll send you the latest draft in a little while. And I'm glad you seem to have gotten over being pissed at me."

Tracy gave me her e-mail and a couple of hours later I sent her my latest draft. Overall she liked it. During the course of the next week we exchanged drafts and her corrections and suggestions.

Finally I submitted it to the site and a couple of days later it was published.

When Tracy saw that I had a new story up and that the reviews were even better than the last one, she called me. "Congratulations, I see our story has been posted and people seem to like it. Why don't you come down for dinner on Friday to celebrate."

Her invitation caught me a bit off guard, but I quickly agreed.

"Good" she said "Grab a bottle of red wine because I'm making beef stroganoff. Oh, and you may want to call Dr. Mark because we may decide to come up with a new story idea or two."