Pieces of a Dream

Fair Warning: This post contains mature themes and sexual situations. If you do not wish to read items containing said content, feel free to leave. If you do read this and disagree with the content of this post, please don't leave me a comment complaining about it, as this is what this warning is for. This post ©2004-05, all rights reserved. Thank you.

And now,

Pieces of a Dream

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It had been two years since I saw Merrie, and she was as beautiful as ever. Her body, thinner; her hair, redder; her eyes, brighter. All the old feelings I had for her, ones I thought were long buried because of the distance between us, came up to the surface. I knew I had to take it easy, as I didn't know Merrie's feelings for me, other than ones of friendship. We acknowledged a mutual attraction, and had formed a mutual admiration society, but as for romantic feelings on her part, I had no idea.

She was staying in the same apartment building where she lived for five years before moving away from New England, as a guest of her former landlord. I suspected that the landlord had feelings for her as well, as he was allowing her to stay rent-free while he remodeled the building.

The first month she was there, she spent reestablishing herself: driver's license, registering her car, looking for permanent lodging. Working was out of the question because of the chronic illness she had been diagnosed with, so her income was Disability and SSI, a far cry from the 40 grand a year she made as a financial analyst. She was, literally, starting over at age 41.

She told me she was hesitant to contact me when she arrived in Massachusetts and I didn't understand that. We’d kept in touch via email and phone calls during her years away, so I thought she knew she could ask me for anything. She had found her own way back to the place she was most comfortable, although I had offered to put her up at my place. The price was right, and her former landlord was more than happy to accommodate her. I thought that meant she would have to "put out", but he really was being sincere. Maybe he had been in her shoes at some point, I don't know.

After the first month or so, Merrie called me at work. She told me where she was and what she'd been up to, and asked about me. I had no good news to tell her. My fiancee recently called off our wedding and moved back to western Massachusetts. It had been six months, and it still hurt. We had been together for five years, but when it was the right time (I thought) to make it legal, at first she agreed, but then got cold feet or something and called off not only the wedding, but our relationship as well.

We talked for a while, then I asked if she was free for dinner. She said she was, because she didn't go out much. We made arrangements to meet at a local eatery that evening. I admit that the prospect of seeing her again excited me on a couple of levels. I wanted to know if she would be willing to give me a chance to win her heart. The two years away only strengthened my attraction to her. She was, as usual, unaware of my predicament. She was unaware, too, of how captivatingly beautiful she was. She never realized that she got things because of her looks. It didn't even occur to her to use her looks to her advantage. She put more emphasis on her intelligence and her talents, rather than on her appearance. She passed that trait on to her two equally stunning daughters, now college students.

As I got ready to leave to meet her for dinner, Merrie was the only thing on my mind. The restaurant I chose was one I knew she liked, and it was crowded and lively when I arrived.

At first, I didn't see her, and thought she hadn't arrived yet, but then saw her copper hair out of the corner of my eye. I turned towards her, and looked at her in profile for a second, when she noticed me. She came walking over to me, and for a moment, I couldn't move.

"James!" she said excitedly; "it's so good to see you!"

"Merrie! Yes! So good to see you again!"

I took her into my arms and kissed her on the cheek. She looked perfect.

We were seated at a table in the back that was rather private. I don't know if that was by luck or design, but it didn't matter. Merrie, and her unusual green eyes looking at me, mattered.

Dinner went by in a blur for me. I concentrated on the music that was Merrie's voice the entire evening. She told me of her adventures in the bayous of Louisiana, where she had been living with her boyfriend until his sudden death a year earlier. Then, she went to Oklahoma, where she had family, but was very unhappy there. She stayed until her younger daughter graduated from high school, then made the decision to come back to Massachusetts. She said she needed a familiar, friendly and comforting place to put her life back together.

"You knew you could always come back here, didn't you, Merrie?" I asked her.

"Yes, that is part of the reason I came here," she said. "After Jack died, because we never married, I didn't get the survivor's pension from his company. Jack had always been told that I would get any survivor benefits if something happened to him, but that didn't happen. And, going to Oklahoma was a disaster. The only good thing that happened there is that I bought my car. I waited until Kayla started college before I left."

I remembered the phone call I got from Merrie when Jack was killed. She was inconsolable. It was about that time she was diagnosed with lupus, so her world had not only been shattered, but to have to deal with this illness as well was almost more than she could bear. I offered to help any way I could, but she wouldn't hear of it.

"You're here now, Merrie," I said. "You can get treatment, and heal your heartache, and be in a place you feel secure."

"How come you always know the right things to say Jamey?" she asked. I noticed tears in her green eyes, and felt my heart breaking for her. She'd been through so much…

I absentmindedly reached across the table and wiped away her tears. She apologized for getting emotional on me, that it kind of sneaks up on her when she's not looking. I told her it was not a problem.

Later, when we were leaving, I offered to follow Merrie home, and she surprised me by saying okay. Merrie's apartment was in a tough part of town (actually, all of Lawrence is the tough part of town), and although I knew she could take care of herself, I felt better knowing she was getting home safe.

She invited me up to her apartment for a few minutes. I was kind of curious about where she was living.

The apartment was huge, and really more than Merrie needed for just herself. It was the same apartment she lived in when she lived here before, when it was her and her daughters, and later, Jack. It was furnished, because the landlord had lived here after Merrie moved out, and it was the first apartment that had been fully remodeled.

Merrie brought me a soda and we sat on the sofa and talked more. I found myself not wanting to leave. I had this almost uncontrollable urge to kiss her, and I knew that would lead to events that she might not be ready for.

Merrie, however, noticed, as I had been silent up to this point. "Jamey" she asked, "are you okay?"

"No," I said without thinking, "I'm not."

"Why not?"

"Because I want to kiss you, Merrie."

Merrie looked puzzled. "What's stopping you?" she asked. Indeed, what was stopping me?

I soon felt Merrie's lips on mine. The kiss was long, and sweet, and was everything I remembered Merrie's kiss to be. "Is that better, Jamey?" she asked in a sultry, husky voice.

Oh, yes, I thought. I tried to say it out loud, but instead led Merrie's hand to the hardness I had just become aware of.

"Jamey…" Merrie's voice trailed off. Then, "I did this?"

"Yes, Merrie…"

I thought she was going to tell me she couldn't allow our friendship to go to that level, that she wasn't ready for it to go that far yet. She then instead asked me,

"What do you want to do, Jamey? Tell me what you want."

"Oh, God, Merrie…I want you." I blurted out before she could say anything more.

The look in her eyes…I'll never forget it as long as I live. It was a look that gave me permission to proceed, to show her how much I wanted her.

"Please, Jamey…" she said quietly, "make love to me. Please?"

Merrie led me to her bedroom, where she unbuttoned my shirt and kissed my chest. "Jamey…" she sighed as she signaled her desires to me.

I removed the sweater she wore and unhooked her bra, freeing her generous breasts. Soon we were holding each other close, kissing and caressing one another. Feeling her breasts against my skin was incredibly sensuous.

I later laid her on the bed and took off her jeans and panties. As she lay naked on the bed, I took in the sight of body. Her large breasts, full hips, slim legs, together with her beautiful face…how could any man resist her? I resisted her as long as I dared, but now, all I wanted was to show this goddess I was worthy of her love.

"My goddess, my beautiful Meredith-Anne, I am not worthy of you, but I want you so much…"

"Please, James…please?" She sounded like she was afraid I'd change my mind.

I slipped deep inside her, and started to love her. We were as physically close as two people could get. I could hear her breathing changing, feel her body against mine, matching my every stroke, feeling her tighten around my cock as if she could squeeze it off at will; her lips on mine, her hands on my skin, our tongues meeting and touching; Her seduction of me was complete, and I was a willing victim.

Her cries of ecstasy and release reverberated in my brain. She cried out my name as she went over the edge, and I was not far behind. I swore to myself then and there that if Merrie allowed me to be in her life in this way, I would never, ever hurt her, never take her love for granted. Her body was her gift to me, her love meant everything to me.

After our lovemaking, she fell asleep in my arms, and I watched her as I waited for slumber to overtake me. You are so beautiful, Merrie, I said to her in my thoughts. I've waited so long to tell you I love you. I hope you love me, too.


In the morning, when I realized I'd been wrapped up in Merrie all night, I thought about how right being with her felt. I also realized that I had been in love with her almost from the moment we met six years before. I had so much I wanted to tell her.

She wasn't in bed when I turned over to say good morning. I heard the shower running, and briefly thought about joining her there, but decided not to.

"Jamey?" Merrie called from the bathroom, "There's coffee if you want some."

I said okay, and went to find a robe to wear. Merrie had thought to leave me one on a nearby chair. I didn't even let the fact that it was pink bother me, I just slipped it on and headed out to the kitchen. Merrie was already there, pouring cups of coffee.

"I don't remember, Jamey," she said, "do you take yours black or with cream and sugar?"

"Cream and sugar." I'd have taken it as coffee grounds just for her. She said the cream and sugar were on the table and to help myself. She then said that the pink robe looked good on me, and I noticed a mischievous look in her eye as she said it.

"Well, good morning to you, too, beautiful…" I said as I kissed her. The kiss lasted longer than either of us planned, but it was just as powerful as it was the night before. I was just about ready to tear her robe off, but restrained myself. Instead, I said without thinking,

"I love you."

Merrie looked at me with a look on her face I couldn't read. I don't generally blurt things out like that, and it hung in the air between us.

"I know, Jamey," she said quietly.

That took me aback. Was I that easy to read? "How…?" I asked her.

"I knew six years ago when we made love on the beach."

I remembered. We'd known each other only a couple of weeks, and we'd been out on a date when we went to the beach to talk. It was very late at night, and there was no one there. We must have talked for a couple of hours, interspersed with French kissing and fondling. Soon we were hiding under a blanket making frenzied love before the cops who patrolled the beach came back our way.

"How did you know way back then?" I asked.

"Because you cared about my feelings, about how I felt afterwards, because we hadn't known each other very long. I just knew you weren't like any other man I had met up to that point. The only other man who did that was Jack."

I noticed she looked sad. I knew she met Jack a few months after I met her. She took his death very hard. He had just asked her to marry him and given her a ring. Two weeks later, Jack was killed in platform collapse off the Louisiana Gulf Coast. At his funeral, she slipped the engagement ring on his pinky before they closed the casket.

Merrie was silent for a long time. "What's wrong, Merrie?" I asked her.

She looked at me with tears in her eyes. "I love you, too, Jamey, but I feel like I’m being disloyal to Jack's memory."

"Merrie, I didn't know Jack very well, but I do know that he was crazy about you. He'd want you to be happy. I'm sure of that," I told her.

Merrie nodded and conceded that I was probably right. I took her into my arms and held her for a long time. "I don't want you to hurt, Merrie," I whispered to her. "Please know I would never hurt you."

"I know you won't, Jamey. That's one of the reasons I love you. It's one of the reasons I came back to Massachusetts."

"What?" I asked, surprised, "What's one of the reasons you came back?"

"That I knew you loved me," she said. "that you wouldn't hurt me. I could tell in the way you spoke to me on the phone. I could tell in the way you wrote your emails. After you and Kiera broke up, it became obvious to me. You didn't have to tell me you loved me, Jamey. Not with words. Your actions spoke for you. And because of that, I knew I loved you. I just needed the time to put it all together in my mind. That's why I didn't call you when I first got here. I wanted to be ready, because I knew you would want to be with me."

She then took me back to the bedroom and made love to me. "Let me love you, James," she had said as she took the pink robe off me, revealing my desire. She knelt before me and took my hardness into her mouth and brought me to the point just before release, then had me lay on the bed as she slipped my cock inside her, and rode me the rest of the way. She then lifted off me and lay on the bed next to me. Her lovemaking was forceful, yet gentle. She said and did all the things I knew she'd do to arouse me. What she did next blew my mind…

"Fuck me, Jamey!" she cried huskily, "Fuck me hard!"

That got me hard again fast. I did as she asked, urging me to take her harder, and to not be afraid to hurt her. "I want to touch my clit and feel you fucking me long after you leave," she said after we both came many more times. All I had to do was touch her clit and she'd come again almost immediately. I went down on her and took her womanhood to my lips, and the cries of desire threatened to overtake her. I wanted to possess her, fuck her, suck her, whatever it took to hear her cry my name out in orgasm. I fantasized about loving her for years, and now, it was reality, but a reality far beyond my wildest imaginings.


I ended up spending the entire weekend with her. When I left Monday morning to go to work, she told me she loved me, she needed me, and asked me if she could be my lover.

"Oh, Merrie…" I had told her, "you are my everything."

Four months later, she moved in with me.


(Originally posted 8/24/04. Updated 3/2/05)