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05/18/17 04:16 am
pj! I remember wishing one of your stories would be finished seriously about a decade ago. Amazing. I just tried an old password I used to use and amazingly got in too. Memories!
03/20/17 01:20 am
10 yrs later, i finally rem my username and password. Pari, you rock. Hope you are well.
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10/06/16 08:34 am
Great post.
08/31/16 03:45 pm
And anyone else who loves this site, it's worth mentioning there's a nifty little "Donate" option just below the shout box here! ;)
08/31/16 03:43 pm
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Authors Chapter Notes:
For those who read Mr. Cabdriver and liked it, you should find this story equally enjoyable. I missed writing that story and decided to write this one.

Disclaimer: The characters belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. I own nothing.

When he held the door open for her, their eyes met and she was instantly attracted to him. She smiled and said thank you, staring into his blue eyes. He nodded his head then followed her inside the warm coffee house. She had goose bumps on her skin and it wasn't from the cold winter air but from the nearness of him.

Despite the bitter winter chill, the woman's face glowed as if she was walking in the summer sunshine. Every pulse point on his body pulsed a little bit harder, causing him to jerk in awareness. He picked up speed to beat her to the door, holding it open for her because her beauty deserved chivalry. When she smiled at him, it was like a thousand ships had launched his heart.

The coffee house was crowded with the early morning rush and for once she didn't mind. The constant bumping from impatient people only gave her an excuse to fall back against him where his hand would touch the small of her back to steady her. She apologized each time. He smiled and said it was okay, using the word love to punctuate his response. He was British and she was a sucker for a man with an accent and a touch that could send electric current across her skin, heating it like a knowing lover despite her thick wool coat. She welcomed his touch with a sigh and a small gasp. Then wondered if he heard her. Probably not she thought since the coffee house was crowded and noisy.

The early morning rush always gave him a headache but not this time. All he could think about was how much closer he could get to continue smelling her thick blonde hair. The intoxicating scent reminded him of exotic flowers dosed with a fresh spring rain. She was short but stood with her head held high exuding confidence. It stopped at the center of his chest and every time she brushed against him, his heart thumped harder than anything he'd ever felt. He wondered if she could hear. Probably not he thought since the noise inside the coffee house was deafening.

She wondered if he preferred coffee or tea. Since he was British, she was guessing tea. She wondered if he preferred strolls in the park versus Monday night football but who was she kidding. He probably could care less about what she wanted to know and more about how much longer he had to wait in this God forsaken line.

The more he sniffed her hair the more he found himself becoming obsessed with it. He wanted to know if it was possible to develop a fetish within minutes of noticing the object of fascination. He tried his best to suppress his sense of smell, asking his sight to distract him with the décor of the coffee house but he gave up within seconds of the request and let the fragrance engulf him like flames.

He wondered if she had a boyfriend or worse a husband but honestly he didn't care. He just wanted to talk to her so he asked her for the time. She turned; informing him it was 7:30AM. At least that's what he thought she said before getting distracted by her glossy lips that made his breath catch in his throat. He managed to say thank you and nothing else, kicking himself for being at a lost for words while he watched her turn away to continue facing the back of the person in front of her.

The sound of his voice in her ear almost made her jump causing a light flutter in her stomach. He wanted to know the time so she turned to him and tried to memorize every angle of perfection on his face without drooling. She noticed the scar on his eyebrow and the natural tint of rose red on his lips. She envied his cheekbones and noticed his eyes were a darker shade of blue. It was then she knew she needed to be careful; she could get lost in those eyes.

There was a brief moment when he looked as if he had more to say but he didn't and she was disappointed. She knew if she wanted to know anything about him, she would have to initiate the conversation first. She had no clue what to say. However, she had to think of something fast. Another register was opening up and soon they would be waited on and her thoughts would no longer be of him but of what she wanted to order. She was filled with an unexpected sadness and she didn't know why so she said the first thing that came to mind. Turning to him, she made reference to how cold it was outside. He agreed and they talked nonstop while they received their orders and just as she thought, he ordered tea.

When she spoke to him, she must of thought he was a stupid git. He'd forgotten he could speak but luckily the awkward silence didn't last long enough for her to repeat herself. When his brain finally kicked in, he couldn't shut up. Nervousness would do that but he was pleased she was able to keep up with him. Her name was Elizabeth just like the Queen Mother but the pretty blonde had more personality. Most of the things they talked about were of little importance but slowly grew in depth. The more she talked the more he wanted to know about her.

Normally, he would have left the coffee house on his way to work but he found himself searching for a table to continue their conversation. She followed him and it never occurred to him to ask her if she needed to leave. It was good sign she was enjoying his company. However, sooner or later they both would have to part and his body tensed at the thought. He liked her.

Never in her entire life has Elizabeth ever talked this much with a complete stranger but she was very comfortable with him, too comfortable. He looked like his name could be William despite his shocking blonde hair. She liked him. Not only was he chiseled gorgeous; he was also very intelligent and funny. It was a dangerous combination. Rarely, did she meet anyone who possessed all of the qualities she found attractive in a man.

They talked about the weather, his job, her job, and other general stuff but the conversations grew deeper when they started to talk about music, poetry, and late model cars; things he was passionate about. She could listen to his voice forever, liking how his words rolled off his tongue and spilled off his lips. She was having inappropriate thoughts of the sexual nature, making her feel impulsive. She wanted to kiss him and find out if his lips were as soft as they appeared.

Elizabeth knew she should have left after receiving her coffee but she couldn't help but follow him to a table to continue their conversation. She figured what the hell, she had some time to kill. Anything was better than spending it sitting at her desk. Besides, the small table for two had the better view.

William had hung onto her every word like a lovesick fool. He tried to get a hold of himself but she had a voice of an angel and the green wide eyes of an unknowing seductress. He noticed when she talked her lips would form a natural pout and some of her words possessed a childlike innocence he found endearing. His attraction to her grew deeper as he stared into her eyes, wondering how soft was her skin and what it smelled like. If it was anything like her hair, he was in trouble. He wanted to know what it felt like to have her under him and to be pleased by her. Elizabeth had an unexplainable hold on him that plagued him with even more sexual thoughts. He found to be a bit strange and unnerving but William liked the strange and unnerving so he decided to do something about it.

As the last topic of their conversation started to wound down, William let out a deep breath, preparing himself to ask a question he hoped she didn't find offensive. He was about to ask but lost the nerve when the logically side of brain warned caution, leaving the question to dangle on the tip of his tongue like a ripen piece of fruit.

There was a brief moment of silence but to Elizabeth it was a pause like when there was something that needed to be said but not asked. She expected him to ask her if she had boyfriend or if she was married-the second being true. Elizabeth was wearing her wedding ring but she found herself hiding it while they stood in line and then again under the table when they sat down. The connection she shared with William made her wish she wasn't married. She was lusting after him and the only thing holding her back were the vows she made to her husband. The silence was getting awkward so she decided to do something about it. She allowed him to ask her whatever he wanted.

William's question had caught her by surprise. He asked her to define passion. She replied with an answer told to her by one of her friends. She told him it was like an unquenched thirst. He agreed and then asked her to define ecstasy and she had told him the truth. She never experienced it. He informed her she was missing out and she agreed but not with words. She had let her eyes tell him.

Anxious to know his answers, Elizabeth asked him the same questions. Turnabout was fair play she thought. He told her passion to him was a mending of souls in motion and ecstasy was thumping heartbeats, thrusting rhythm and endless orgasms. Signs of moisture developed between her legs and her mouth was dry with instant lust. She sipped her coffee then met his gaze. At that moment, she knew she was going to cheat on her husband with him and that's when her left hand found its way to the table. She knew he saw her wedding ring but he said nothing so she forced him to look at it. She held her hand out in front of her and had given him a half smile. He asked her if she was happy and she said yes.

William was glad she had picked the fruit. He had agreed with her answer to his first question. However, he was more interested in what she thought instead of her friend. It was a pity because he could see she had passion in her eyes. He could feel it when she talked about things that excited her and had strong opinions about. Since she wasn't offended by his first question, he asked her to define ecstasy. He was disappointed she had nothing to add. He continued to stare into her eyes while his hand inched closer until their fingertips touched. A rush of heat washed over him. He wondered if she felt it to.

Elizabeth felt warm and it wasn't from the coffee. When they touched, she thought her heart would stop. She felt dizzy and for a brief moment her eyes closed and thoughts of kissing him returned. She tried to hide the fact she was blushing, turning her head to the side. The chemical rush she received from the William sent her blood racing. Elizabeth called her office and told them she was not coming in while he did the same. She also made sure any calls from her husband at the office were sent directly to her cell phone.

They walked out of the coffee house and found themselves kissing passionately against the old brick building. Their tongues glided in and out each other's mouths while their hands roamed over their heavily clothed bodies with sexually excitement, extreme sexual excitement. Desperate to be together and alone, they mutually parted and boarded a train headed for upstate New York to a small bed and breakfast establishment.

On the nearly empty train, their lust had found them again as they stole kiss after kiss. William removed his coat, placing it over them while his hand crept up her dress. He stoked her through her panties, feeling his fingertips moisten with her dew. She sighed against his mouth while his clever fingers continued giving tantalizing shocks to her wet place. Figuring they were drawing enough attention, he stopped and withdrew his hand but couldn't stop kissing her.

They shared a small cab ride to the intimate location where William registered them while Elizabeth waited outside. They had a small cottage to themselves with all the comforts of home. There was a huge king size bed decorated with fine linens, a fireplace, a loveseat and matching chair with a small cherry wood coffee table in the middle. There was a bathroom off to the side with a large claw foot tub and a bearskin rug sprawled in front of the fireplace with four large decorative pillows laid about. Elizabeth thought it was the perfect setting for lovers; the lovers they we were about to become.

A/N: The difference between this story and Mr. Cabdriver is that Elizabeth is married and happy but the story is not about her being happy. It's about her having an affair despite that and I, as the author, want to give you a look inside their illicit affair but simply put, it's a smut story and I hope you like it. There is more.

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