The Stroker

"Lookin' good, Maryanne," he said.

"Thanks."

I got out my copy of The Stroker and put it on the table.

"Okay, let's hear it."

I shook my head and pushed the papers over to him.

"No, you're going to have to read it to yourself."

"That wasn't the deal."

"I can't read it here."

"All right," he said, and got up and walked away.

"Wait," I said, grabbing the pages and running after him. I caught up with him just as he reached his car.

"Get in," he said.

Without thinking about it too much, I did.

Jordon drove a few blocks, and pulled into the parking lot of the old closed library. He parked the car under a huge oak tree that was dripping with vines.

"Okay," he said, and turned in his seat toward me.

"Jordan..." I started, wondering what I could say that would possibly make it okay for me to back out.

"Just do it," he said.

I cleared my throat once, twice. Sweat beaded up on my forehead. I tried to think of excuses. "It's not really that—"

"Start," he said firmly.

"The Stroker," I said. I read steadily. As I read, I became more and more lost in the story, my voice dropping, and words slowing, as I suddenly became a voyeur of the voyeurs.

" 'I love you,' he said. 'You too,' she said." I looked up at Jordan. He was looking at me, his eyes glazed. "That's it; the end," I said.

Jordan slowly reached around and grabbed me by the back of the neck and pulled me to him. He kissed me softly, just brushing his lips against mine.

"That was fantastic," he said. His voice was raspy.

"Whatever," I mumbled. I looked down. I could see his the shape of his erection pushing firmly against his jeans. I looked away. "Your turn."

"I think I need a moment to saver that first, Mare. That was fantastic."

"Oh, phoo," I said. "It was just an assignment."

"Not to me," he said and flashed a killer smile.

His story was called, 'The Shipwreck', and was about three Navy guys who get stranded on a deserted island. It was predictable, and not very believable. But as he got to the point where they guys had been there for over a year, and slowly things between them change, I felt the temperature in the car rise, and I got wet.

Finally his story was over. I just stared at my lap.

"Maryanne," he said.

"Mmmn?"

"Well?"

"What do you want me to say?"

Jordan reached over and put a finger under my chin and used it as a lever to get me to look at him. "I want you to say, Jordi, that was so fuckin' hot, it makes me want to climb over this seat and straddle you."

I laughed. "No."

"No it doesn't, or no you're not going to say that."

I just laughed and shook my head. "No, it doesn't."

"Damn, I guess I'll just have to write another one."

"Oh."

"Because yours made me want to do that to you."

I blinked.

"Of course, I wanted to do that before anyway."

"Oh shit," I said.

He laughed.

"Not the kind of reaction I was hoping for," he said.

Then he leaned over and kissed me. His tongue pressed gently, asking for entry and I let him in.

It was heaven.

The best reward for a story I could ever imagine.

"More," Jordan whispered against me.

"Yes," I said.

# # #

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