• R. E. Maynard

One Night's Stand


One Night's Stand

Beauty complicated the depths of this fair lady’s soul; and photographs of her portraits captured admirations once proving a youthful existence. A career plastered her on every magazine that kept this starlet well known to an adoring fanbase. Affairs with fame led her to acquire riches from multiple failed marriages that now defined her as a black widower. Each of her husbands died of natural causes during sex. The idea that at age forty-eight she was a woman not desired left a foul taste in her mouth.


In the darkness of midnight, she crept through the lights of the nightclub with an intention to find a young male to let go of her inhibitions. Sex rattled her inner thighs with a powerful urge to feel a man’s flesh again. Being a nymphomaniac with a sex addiction took her years of repetitive therapy to calm aggressive compulsive behaviors that plagued her past. Now she sought a suitable moment that had the potential for releasing her frustrations of late. A woman on an adventure knew she had the looks still to prove what it takes. Heads turned in direction from every vantage point near and far.

Sweat beaded across his chest with a stream of lust radiating from his rapid movements. The lights flickered on and off him with an erratic chaos rhythmic to the music. Swaying hips caught her in a frozen state while he began to pulsate against the crowded space they shared now. Breath was not an option for her gasping with each brush from the bulge that he wielded so passionately. Sudden movement shock from her hips naturally, feet tapping slightly, and then a full gravitated dance between the two mirrored perfectly. It became clear that the songs passed them by for hours, and their drenched bodies became as one – closer and closer. Every touch forced her to embrace his advances more than the one previous, as she moved her hands aligning his physique. Pursuing her curves gave him plenty of excuses to caress those long legs that had captured the imaginations of so many men.

The two left the club and entered a taxi headed toward his midtown apartment. In haste he could not await their arrival and explored her while the driver watched distractedly in the rearview mirror. Swerving through traffic the taxi hurried along as the action increased in the backseat. Mostly naked the two now had no way to lessen their intensity. Screeching to a holt by the curb in front a brick building on Second Avenue, a wad of cash flew toward the driver. The lovers disappeared in the night. Unaware of the hallways dim lighting, an overcome damsel gives in completely to his penetration. Forcefully, he turns her and time races, and the best of her satisfaction reached a point of climax. He had no other choice but to match such ecstasy soon after, as they both collapsed to the floor sprawled one atop the other.

In a moments realization where she might be recognized by another person from his building, she gathered her clothing and stood upright.


He spoke with a soft tone, saying, “Please, spend the night with me.”

Pinning her hair back with a hairpin, she turned to look down upon him still kneeling and said, “I do hope you can forget this night happened.”

Confused by her stern voice and response, he sat gazing as she disappeared through a stairwell door. He thought to himself for a moment and with a sigh, then he stated, “Never!”

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R. E. Maynard 

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