This is a continuation of my story Jury Duty. I had intended it to be a one-off but I got some requests to continue it, so here comes chapter 3! This is a story very loosely based on actual events and real people. All names have been changed to protect the innocent.
I spent my Saturday running errands and thinking about Nicole. My parents went out to dinner with friends, leaving me alone to fend for myself. I made Mac and Cheese for dinner and settled into the living room with the dog on my lap to watch a ballgame.
Around 9pm Nicole called. We exchanged small talk. I told her about my day. She told me about hers. "Ugh, what a long day," Nicole said, "I love my family, but after a whole day they start to get on my nerves. Plus, I couldn't stop thinking about you."
"I couldn't stop thinking about you either," I said.
"That's sweet," Nicole said. We were silent for a moment, enjoying our mutual affection for each other. Then Nicole said, "So, what's your username?"
I had forgotten all about telling her about the fact that I wrote erotic fiction, so for a moment I couldn't understand what she was asking me. "My what?" I asked.
"You know, on Literotica," she said.
"Oh, that," I replied, feeling a fresh rush of panic over the prospect of Nicole reading my stories. They were so full of weird kinks and fetishes... I was sure she would read something that would turn her off. "I don't know if it's such a good idea," I said, although deep down I knew that there was no way Nicole was going to stop pestering me until I let her read them.
"Please?" Nicole drew out the word, like a five year old asking for another cookie.
"I don't want you to end up reading something you don't like..." I said and trailed off... not wanting to finish the thought.
"So, you're probably into stuff that I'm not into." Nicole stated matter-of-factly. "That's pretty normal. Maybe I like things that you don't." She paused. "There aren't any incest stories or rape fantasies, are there?"
"No," I said, "Nothing like that."
"Then I'm sure it'll be fine," Nicole said, "You know I'm not going to give up now until you tell me, don't you?"
"Yeah..." I said dejectedly. "Fine, here it is." And I told her.
"Thank you," Nicole said. "I'm going to be here by myself for most of the day tomorrow, so now I have something to do."
"I have my daughter tomorrow," I said.
"I know," Nicole said, "Why don't you give me a call tomorrow night after you settle in?"
"Okay," I said.
"Goodnight," Nicole said.
"Goodnight," I said, and before I hung up I was sure I heard the sound of a laptop booting up.
I tried not to think about Nicole that Sunday and focus on my daughter instead. Despite my best efforts, my mind drifted towards Nicole again and again. I wondered if she was really sitting there, in her bedroom, right at that moment, reading my stories. What would she think of them? How far would she get before she decided I was a sick pervert and that she wanted nothing further to do with me? After I brought my daughter back and I started to wind down my evening, I started to get nervous. I kept imagining her calling me a sicko pervert and hanging up the phone, or not even answering my call. I struggled to find the courage call her because I was so sure it was going to turn out awful.
I waited until 9pm, when the house was quiet, to put all of my anxieties aside and call Nicole. I started to panic when she didn't answer right away, but after a few rings she finally answered. She sounded out of breath. I wondered if she had been running.
"Hey," she said, "It's about time you called."
"Sorry, I got caught up in something," I lied.
"It's okay," Nicole said, "How was your day?"
I told her about my day. She was still gasping for air and panting while I talked. She never mentioned to me that she exercised. I wondered if she jogged in the evenings or something. "So, how was your day?" I asked.
"It was... uhm... good," Nicole said, "I got a lot done."
"Good," I said, and we fell into an uneasy silence. Well, I was silent. Nicole was still breathing heavily into the phone.
"Aren't you going to ask me what I'm doing?" Nicole asked.
"Yeah," I said, "What are you doing?"
"I'm reading your stories," Nicole said, and she gasped.
"Really," I said... my mind suddenly racing... that heavy breathing... was she masturbating right now? "What do you think?" I asked her.
"Well," Nicole said, "There are definitely some things in here I wouldn't be into. I am NOT rolling around in the mud... and I'm not bi-sexual. How weird is it that you named that character Nicole?"
"I'm not even sure where it came from," I said, feeling relieved that she was still talking to me, "The name just came to me. It's one of life's great coincidences."
"I guess so," Nicole said, "You're a good writer. Some of these stories are really hot."
"Thanks," I said, ignoring the backhanded compliment that only 'some' were hot. "How many have you read?"
"Just about all of them," Nicole said, "I was more or less going chronologically. My favorite is the one with the childhood sweetheart. It's pretty clear when you zigged instead of zagged there."
"Yeah," I said. "I'm glad you like them."
"Thank you for letting me read them," Nicole said, and we fell silent again. I was thinking that she didn't need to thank me for letting her read them, she really didn't leave me a choice, but I didn't tell her that. Eventually Nicole said, "So, do you want to know what else I'm doing right now?"