“Do you notice anything different?” Stella asked James.
He tried to look closely at her sitting across from him at the little table outside of the cafe. He could never get past her eyes without getting lost, though. Her blue eyes gleamed brightly and seemed to see right through him. It had been so long since they had seen each other, and he had forgotten how strong her gravitational pull on him was. Like the sun to a planet, he knew he would eventually crash and be destroyed by her.
“You look beautiful as you always do,” James replied, awkwardly looking down at his food. He struggled with the power she had over him and felt inadequate. It wasn’t always this way, but things have changed.
“You haven’t even noticed?! Look, I had it fixed!” she exclaimed as she smiled and tapped her two top front teeth.
“Oh. You lost the gap. That’s good, I guess.” James responded flatly.
“I thought you’d like it,” Stella frowned. “Why can’t you be happy for me fixing a flaw? I feel so much more confident.”
Because he loved the gap in her teeth, it made her distinctly her. She was magnificently beautiful with high cheekbones, flawless skin, lush lips, and dark wavy long hair. She was tall, with legs that seemed to go on forever, and her figure was near perfection. But that gap in her front teeth was something he fixated on. That gap made her real to him. How could he ever explain this?
“I am happy for you. If you feel better about it, then I do too. It’s just…well, I liked the gap. I always thought you had a beautiful smile, and it didn’t need any improvement,” James said, forking his salad half-heartedly.
It had been well over a year since they’d seen each other, and she reached out to “catch up.” She fell in love. He was Russian, like her, and made good money. He might be the one.
“I’m happy and want you to be happy for me, James,” Stella said as she reached across the table to take his hand, her bangle bracelet clattering. Her long, soft fingers with their french tips sent jolts of electricity through him and the flood of memory.
In the backseat of her car over a year ago. He remembers feeling so grateful to have his fingers deep inside her, her wet center surrounding them. She was so out of his league, yet here she was, moaning his name as she nibbled his ear and bit his neck. Her musk filled that cramped space, making his head swim. She smelled sweet and flowery. The rain pattered on the windows, and the streetlight in the parking lot gave just enough light for them to see each other. The car rocked with every movement and squeak of their bare flesh against the stiff leather seats. “Yebat’ menya,” she moaned as he entered her, her eyes half closed with their long lashes and mouth open. He would later find out she was saying ‘fuck me’ in Russian, her familial language. He was moving inside her, the heat from her core enveloping his entire being. He nuzzled her neck as he thrust, crashing into her repeatedly.
That would be their only time. James was too old for her and not of her religion; that would break her mother’s heart.
“I want you to meet him,” Stella said. “Will you meet him? For me?”
No, James thought. How could she ask him to do such a thing?
“I would love to,” James replied to Stella, whose etymological meaning is “Star.”
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/118wr8t/the_star_mf_fiction_short