HERE YOU COME AGAIN (AND AGAIN)
by Eosphorus
"Open afresh your rounds of starry folds,
Ye ardent Marigolds." - John Keats
PROLOGUE: AUGUST 1999
She's all over him the moment they're through the front door. Kissing him, pulling him close.
He's caught off guard, but only for a moment. He wraps his arms around her, gathering her in. Her feel, her taste. Her scent!
He's wanted this all summer. Since that first day of work. Flirting, joking around. Catching her looking his way. Getting caught looking hers.
But...hesitation. She's only eighteen. Fully legal but four years younger than him. An awfully big gap at their age. Or not.
Then tonight. She asked if he could drive her home. Her car was in the shop. Mentioned her parents being out of town. Invited him inside to show him something.
Now this. They make her way into her bedroom, stripping off each other's clothes. Hands fumbling with buttons. A bra unclasped, panties slid down.
They fall into bed. She's uninhibited. Aggressive, even. Pushing him onto his back. Placing her hands on both sides of his face and kissing him deep. Then sucking his cock. Devouring it would be more accurate. Hard sucking while fingering herself. Then climbing atop him. Riding him hard. She comes screeching and moaning. His cock throbs inside her not long after.
A second round begins after a few minutes rest. More eager fucking. Instant sexual connection. Like they can read each other's minds.
They lay together after.
"What happens now?" she asks.
Good question. In a few days they go back to school. Five hours away in opposite directions.
He doesn't know what to say. What can he say? "I don't know. If it's meant to be, we'll run into each other again."
It's bullshit and he knows it. So does she.
___________
OCTOBER 2023
Twenty four years.
She looks incredible. Her smile, her long brown hair. And those eyes, as bright and dazzling as ever though now behind fashionable eyeglasses.
They hug. Her closeness brings with it a flood of memories. Instant arousal, also.
Think of it! Marigold, back in town. Standing in his store. Looking better than anybody has a right to.
She breaks off the hug. "Damn, Jeff, you look great."
"So do you."
"I'm sorry I'm late," she says. "I was looking at a house down the street."
"Thinking of moving back home?"
"Hope so," she says. "I could never afford to until now."
Their eyes meet again. There's an awkward silence. "This is my store."
Smooth. Real smooth.
She grins. "I love it! Imagine my surprise when I learned you were the owner."
"Imagine my surprise when I learned you were coming." Jeff gestures towards the shelf of current bestsellers. "The legend herself."
She walks over to the display. Jeff gets a longer look at her. She's in a lavender sweater, black tights, and tan boots. She's rounded-out a bit and pleasantly so. Grown into a short, curvy MILF with an ample bosom and a soft derrière.
Exactly like the main character in her book. How interesting.
"Can I confess something?" she asks.
Anything. "Sure."
"I've been going out of my way," she says. "Visiting bookstores whenever I can."
"As a bookstore owner, I endorse that practice."
She runs her fingers over the copies of her book. "I seek it out on the shelves. It's like a dream."
So is crossing paths with you again.
She pulls a copy off the shelf. "It's hard to believe my name's on the cover." She turns it over. "Or the 'About the Author' is about me."
"That must be wild."
"Listen to it. 'Marigold Martin is a first time author who makes her home in Syracuse, New York. She lives there with her daughter and three cats.' That's surreal."
One kid, three cats. No mention of a husband. "It must take some getting used to."
She replaces the book. "It does. Same as being back in town."
"It was weird for me when I moved back. I didn't expect to start a bookstore."
"It's the most beautiful one I've ever seen. Wasn't this an insurance agency or something back when?"
"A bank before that. Can I show you something cool?"
Marigold nods. "Always!"
He walks her to the science fiction section. "We call it the Vault."
Marigold's face lights up and it's like a sunburst. "It's an actual bank vault."
"Isn't it cool?"
Jeff never tires of showing people. The massive door is propped open behind a table displaying an assortment of puzzles for sale. Inside are three walls of books from floor to ceiling.
"You know, it was robbed once," he says. "During the Depression."
"A bookstore with lore!" Marigold steps into the Vault. "You know, I don't think I've ever been in a vault before."
"There's a first time for everything."
Marigold gives him a mischievous smirk. "There is indeed. Where's the interview taking place?"
"We'll have to use the Metedeconk Theater across the street. We sold four hundred tickets."
Marigold steps out of the Vault. "These crowds."
"You can imagine the hype," he says. "Homegrown author, and all. We'll keep the interview to an hour. The signing, too."
Marigold shakes her head. "I'll stay for as long as it takes to sign every book. I have zero plans for the evening."
Sybil emerges from the back room. "You must be Marigold. I'm Sybil. We spoke on the phone."
They shake hands, making a remarkable pair. Sybil is short and squat with buzzed hair, lots of piercings, and huge tits. She's also wearing a hot pink t-shirt emblazoned with the words "Lesbian AF."
Sybil sits Marigold down at one of tables in the coffee bar, diving into every detail of the evening. She stops abruptly, turning to Jeff. "What the hell are you doing standing around like a big dope? Looking like a beach bum, too. We're recording in an hour! Shower and get dressed."
"I'm going, I'm going." Jeff heads towards the stairs.
He pauses, glancing back. After all these years, huh? Marigold waltzing right in the door. Looking at him with those eyes of a brighter green than he's ever seen. Damn.
__________
Marigold takes a deep breath.
She can do this. She's done this before. Dozens of times.
Yeah, but never here. In front of so many people who know her.
"You sure there's nothing you need before you go on?" Sybil asks.
Marigold hears the steady murmur of the crowd on the other side of the curtain. Butterflies flutter in her stomach. "Once things start, I calm right down."
"Don't worry. Jeff's great at putting people at ease."
No doubt! Those eyes of his alone could do the trick. Or get her worked up. She's never met anyone else with that particular shade of blue.
Jeff strolls in.
Sybil rolls her eyes. "About time."
He's changed into jeans and a dark green sweater. It shows off his build better than the hoodie and shorts he had on before.
Damn, he's kept in shape.
There's a sudden warmth between her legs. Great! Just what she needs, going on stage both nervous and horny.
"Ready to do this?" Jeff asks.
Marigold nods.
He places a hand on her shoulder. Her pulse races. "You'll be great."
Jeff steps through the curtain onto the stage. The crowd applauds.
He sits on one of the stools in front of the microphone and puts on his headset. "Good evening, everyone."
He introduces himself and the store. "This is a special live episode of Author Encounter, the podcast where we encounter authors. Today's author is Marigold Martin. I wonder if you've heard of her."
Enthusiastic cheering. Marigold's hands tremble.
"This is something of a homecoming for Marigold," he says. "She spent most of her childhood and teen years here before moving away. How about that, a local celebrity?"
More cheering follows.
"It's not every day a new author catches fire like she has. Her debut novel, Lucyanne Travers, Superspy, has been praised for combining elements of the traditional spy thriller, comedy, and erotica. Let's welcome Marigold Martin to Author Encounter!"
Raucous cheering erupts.
And here I go! Marigold strides out. The audience rises from their seats en masse.
How is this her life? Every appearance overflowing with fans. Her fans. She scans the audience. Looks like it's about three-quarters women.
Marigold takes a seat and puts on her headset. She takes another deep breath.
You got this, girl. You got this.
Jeff makes eye contact. Instant calmness.
"Full disclosure for the audience," Jeff says. "As my regular listeners know, I also grew up here. Then twenty years in Philly before moving back and opening Encounter Books here in sleepy Geil's Landing, New Jersey. Marigold and I worked together one summer at Carlo's Pizzeria Grill a block from here. This interview is sort of a reunion of old friends."
Old friends? That's one way to describe it! Then again, he can't just announce to his entire audience how the two of them fucked that one time.
"Good evening, Marigold," Jeff says. "Thanks for coming on."
"Thank you for the opportunity."
"Your book certainly is a unique blend," he says. "I've heard it described as heralding the birth of a new genre."
Marigold shakes her head. "I don't know about that. My book's good, silly fun. I don't expect it to change the world."
"Fair enough. Yet this strange mix works, doesn't it? At least in your hands. Suspenseful and tense on one page, side-splitting funny on the next." He pauses. "Arousing on the third."
She shrugs. "What can I say? I'm a Renaissance woman."
"The real question everyone's asking is where do you get your inspiration from?"
Interviewers always ask that. "The truth?"
The audience cheers.
"I was on a business trip to London," she says. "He was ten years younger, like in the book."
Encouraging hoots come from the crowd.
"So the beginning was inspired by a real life experience?" Jeff asks.
"The first ten pages are basically non-fiction. The hotel bar, the Indian restaurant, the stroll along the Thames..."
"Then Daniel's a real person?"
"He's inspired by the guy I went out with," she says. "But everything else is made up."
"The spicier parts of the book," Jeff asks. "Were those also inspired by this mystery man?"
That's the first time an interviewer has asked that particular question. She's gotten that one from her readers plenty.
Here goes. "It most definitely was."
Delighted gasps ring out.
"Is the mystery man aware of this?" Jeff asks.
"Very much so."
"Is he a current romantic interest?" Jeff asks.
"No. I'm not romantically attached right now."
Jeff raises an eyebrow ever so slightly. The hint of a smile appeals on his lips. As if that's the answer he hoped for.
"Besides," Marigold adds. "Between the book tour, my daughter, and working on my next book, I don't have the bandwidth for a relationship."
Their eyes meet again for a passing moment. A tingle runs down her back.
"Let's talk about that," Jeff says. "How are you managing to balance it all? How has life changed since this book took off?"
"How hasn't it?" Marigold tells her story. A divorced mom just turned forty dating now and then. Devouring spy novels. Yearning to write one. "I spent months trying to write a traditional story. It was going nowhere fast."
Jeff smiles. "Until London?"
"I thought to myself, 'why can't this be the premise?' Someone just like me, thrust into the world of international espionage on a blind date."
"And you were off and running."
"And thus was born Lucyanne Travers. A divorced mom in her forties. Short with plenty of curves. Sexy as hell."
Prolonged cheers ensue.
"That's an angle which has garnered a ton of attention, hasn't it?" Jeff says. "Especially the curvy aspects of Lucyanne Travers. A well-known podcaster had some terrible things to say I won't repeat."
"I'm a size eighteen, same as Lucyanne. Sixty-eight percent of American women wear a size fourteen or bigger. But if you dare write a woman like that as sexy, people freak out. I think Lucyanne and I look pretty good. Whattya say?"
Sustained cheering and supportive clapping follows.
"I have a steadfast rule," Marigold continues. "I don't let anyone rent space in my head. This whole obsession with strict adulation of a given body type is nonsense. Skinny, athletic, plus-sized, BBW, be you!"
Sustained cheering ensues.
Jeff looks deep into her eyes. "I'd say our audience agrees. As do I."
The interview goes on. Jeff queries her about her writing style and the minutiae of plot development. There's a shout-out to her high school English teacher Mrs. Lewis sitting in the front row choking back tears. Marigold steps down from the stage and hugs her to thunderous applause.
The whole thing feels like five minutes, her initial trepidation long since gone. It's like she can tell Jeff anything. Well, almost. He tries to get her to reveal details of her follow-up novel. All he has to do is smile that smile and there go her defenses.
Somehow, she resists. But she doesn't think she could deny him much else.
___________
Sybil signals to him they have five minutes remaining.
He nods. "We like to conclude every episode by having the author read a favorite passage from their work. I'm sure you've selected one."
Marigold smiles. "I have."
"Go right ahead."
Marigold picks up a copy of her book. She clears her throat.
"They stumble towards the bed, hands all over each other. Tongues dancing."
A thrilled gasp fills the auditorium. Jeff grins ear-to-ear. She's going there, isn't she? Damn right!
"No need to rush. Not with a woman like this in his arms. So many curves!
He's been with plenty of women, but can any match Lucyanne? She's got it all. Beauty, brains, playful sense of humor. And what a body!
Lucyanne peels his sweater up and over his head. His t-shirt follows.
Her eyes widen as she stares at his bare torso. 'Nice.'
They resume kissing, Lucyanne's hands run down his back."
The audience is deathly silent, hanging on every word.
"He raises an eyebrow. 'You need to catch-up.'
'Then catch me up.'
'Gladly.' He slides her shawl off her shoulders. It falls noiselessly to the floor."
Jeff stares at Marigold's lips while she reads. Damn. They're so soft, so expressive.
"He seeks out the zipper on the back of her dress. She turns around, lifting her hair.
He kisses the nape of her neck.
Lucyanne gasps.
He kisses her neck again. Two, three, four more kisses.
'Keep doing that,' she moans.
He obliges her. Squeezes her breasts from behind, also.
'Nibble my neck,' she whispers.
Daniel gives her neck a nibble. She cries out, inhaling sharply.
He backs off, unzipping her dress. Lucyanne wiggles out of it, down to bra and panties.
She turns around and his jaw drops. What a vision!
'Keep going,' he says.
Lucyanne shakes her head. 'You first.'
He stares at her. She gazes right back, eyes brimming with lust.
Daniel undoes the front of his pants. He pushes them down, stepping out of them.
'Much better,' she says.
May as well go all-in. He pushes his boxers down.
Lucyanne's eyes double in size."
Marigold closes the book.
_________
It goes on longer than any signing Jeff's ever hosted. Two hours plus. Marigold chats with every fan. Plenty of old friends, too. Personalizing copies, posing for photos. Radiant smile on her face the entire time.
Marigold keeps glancing his way and smiling.
Sybil sidles up next to him. "I can't recall seeing you so happy at a signing."
"Why not? We hosted the hottest new author of the year and sold four hundred books plus the tickets for the event."
Sybil smirks. "Hottest new author of the year, huh?"
"What're you implying?"
"That monetary gain isn't the only thing you're thrilled with tonight," Sybil says. "Hoping to rekindle things after all these years?"
He shrugs. "Is that so crazy?"
"She's into you," Sybil says.
"You think so?"
Sybil smirks. "Seriously, dude? The glances, the giggles. Straight chicks are transparent when they've got the hots for a guy. I thought you said you two only fucked once."
"Yeah."
"You must've made some impression," Sybil says. "Don't worry. Leave it all to me, my friend."
"What're you planning?"
Sybil smiles, turning away.
The last book is signed, the last fan gone. The theater staff starts closing things up.
"That went well," Marigold says.
Jeff nods. "Easily one of the best episodes we've ever done."
"Let's celebrate," Sybil says. "Hungry?"
Marigold nods. "Does Carlo's still have the best thin crust at the Shore?"
"Always," Sybil says. "They have great martinis, too."
"Vodka martinis are my favorite," Marigold says. "Same as Lucyanne Travers."
"I had a feeling," Sybil says.
Marigold glances at her watch. "Give me five minutes to Facetime my daughter before my mom tucks her in."
Jeff smiles. Take all the time you need.
_________
Marigold shakes her head. Who says you can't go home?
Carlo's has barely changed. Same old school decor, same linoleum floor. Flatscreens playing Sunday Night football now line the wall above the bar, but that's it. Aside from that, it could be 1999.
Several tables turn their heads towards them. Marigold recognizes many as attendees from tonight.
A pretty waitress Marigold's age greets them. "Hey Jeff, hey Sybil!"
"Hey Caroline," Jeff says.
Caroline sits the three of them at a bistro table near the bar. She gives Jeff a lingering smile. "The usual?"
Jeff glances at Marigold. "Actually, how about three vodka martinis?"
"You got it," Caroline says.
Sybil picks up her phone, shaking her head. "You'd better make it two. I gotta go."
"Everything all right?" Jeff asks.
Sybil stands. "A bat got into the garage and Linda's panicking. You guys stay. Enjoy yourselves."
Marigold stifles a giggle. A bat in the garage? That's the best she can come up with? No matter. Sybil's done her part well. First, the invitation, then the quick exit. Now it's just her and Jeff's beautiful blue eyes over a couple of martinis.
"I guess it's just us," Jeff says after Sybil leaves.
Time for a little fun. "Are you sure you still wanna?"
The color drains out of his face. "Yeah. I mean, if you do."
Why is she so evil? Better back off or she might scare him away. "Well, I am famished. And we've already ordered drinks. Might as well."
"Might as well."
Yeah, he still has the hots for her. No doubt. Now begins the dance. The flirting, the furtive glances. The mounting anticipation.
Caroline returns with their drinks. "Anything to eat?
Jeff grins at Marigold. "Large with mushrooms?"
He remembered. "Yup!"
"Got it!" Caroline goes to put in their order.
Marigold picks up her glass. "What shall we drink to?"
"Resuming old friendships?"
If that's what you want to call it.
They raise their glasses and take a sip.