Time Enough at Last

(Author's note: For Steve, whom I am missing very much -- more than I ought to, and more than he misses me, I'm sure.)

*

On a humid and sultry July afternoon, Steve was heading to his car after a particularly demanding shift in the ER when he realized that it had been two months since he last saw Anne. In May, she and two friends had attended a block party in East Fairview, the borough where he lived and worked and where she owned a clothing boutique; she had deserted her friends for a while to join Steve in the stairwell to his apartment for an erotic interlude.

He further realized that she hadn't texted him in about a month and a half, which was odd for her; every week or so she'd send a note to say hello, or ask him a medically-related question, or tell him she'd seen something that made her think of him and laugh. He wondered what was going on with her, hoped she was all right, then with a pang wondered if she and her husband (with whom she'd been having marital problems) were patching things up, hence the radio silence.

After starting his Altima and cranking up the air conditioning, Steve dialed her cell phone number, which went directly to voice mail. He hung up without leaving a message, then sent her the following text: "Haven't heard from you in a while, you OK?"

Anne did not immediately reply, so his short drive home was made in silence, but as he sat down on his living room sofa with a beer his phone rang; looking at the display it was a number he didn't recognize but he could tell it was an East Fairview exchange. "What the ...?" he muttered. He briefly debated sending it to voice mail but reconsidered, as it could be someone calling from the hospital needing to speak with him. "This is Dr. Moretti," he said as he thumbed the Send button to answer the call.

"Steve. It's me," Anne's voice, low and hurried, replied.

"Anne! Hey, what's up? I haven't heard from you in a while, I was a little concerned ... is everything all right? And why are you calling me from a different number? Your BlackBerry broken or something?"

Anne sighed, then explained, "I'm calling from Mare's; I can't call you from my cell phone right now. Larry and I are separating, and I don't need anything that he can use against me in a divorce. If he and his lawyer decide to check my cell phone records and find out how much we've been in contact in the past ... things could get ugly."

"I see," he told her.

"That's why you haven't heard from me in a while." She sighed again. "I'm moving into the apartment upstairs from my shop," she continued, "so it looks like we'll be neighbors again. Well, kind of." At this she giggled, then told him, "I'm finding myself looking forward to

that

, I must say."

He found himself liking

that

very much too. "When are you moving? Do you need help?" he asked.

"I don't know, hopefully this weekend but I'll have to keep you posted ... I'm taking only my things, the living room furniture and the majority of the pots and pans and stuff like that, and I had new bedroom furniture delivered earlier this week. Larry's staying at a hotel near his office while I'm packing up my stuff, which is good. I should be able to get the majority of it out of here this weekend, and the rest the following weekend." She took a deep breath. 'I never realized it would be this hard," she confessed, "even though I've wanted out for such a long time."

"Over a year," he reminded her.

"And downsizing from a house to an apartment isn't easy either."

"I'm sure it isn't."

"You should see the 50 tons of trash at the curb," she joked. She was quiet for a minute, then said, "Look, I should get going ... until I'm out of the house, call the shop if you want to talk to me."

"Okay."

"And we won't be able to ... um,

see

each other till then either."

"I understand." He paused a beat then said, "I meant what I told you before, Anne," referring to the conversation they'd had the day after they'd slept together, "I'm a phone call away if you need anything."

"I know." He could hear the smile in her voice as she spoke. "Well, I'll let you go—I'm sure you had a busy day. And I'll let you know how things stand as soon as I can."

"All right. Good night, Anne."

"Good night, Steve." He pressed the End button on his BlackBerry, then sat for a while contemplating the conversation he'd just had with Anne, and what it meant for him, for

them

.

He found himself unable to sleep that night, thoughts of having Anne all to himself consuming him. Then he imagined her nestled against him, her velvety skin warm against his and smelling of soap and flowery perfume; this vision soon lulled him to sleep.

***

Steve didn't hear from Anne for two weeks until she sent him a text inviting him to the housewarming party she was throwing to thank the friends who'd helped her move. "Need me to bring anything?" he wanted to know.

"Just your sweet little self," she replied, following this message with a smiley face.

The day of the party was clear and bright and (thankfully) not at all humid. Anne had cordoned off the parking lot at the rear of her shop and had tables and chairs set up; a gas grill was heating up to cook hamburgers, hot dogs and chicken while her friend Jamie played chef, and loads of finger foods and snacks sat on a long table. Three huge coolers were filled with water, soft drinks, beer and wine, while a huge boom box played alternative music.

By the time Steve arrived the party was in full swing. At first he didn't see Anne; then she emerged from the rear of her shop, and his breath caught as he surveyed her standing there in a wrap skirt patterned in bright pink flowers and a tight white t-shirt. She had some sort of tropical flower over her right ear; spotting him standing there she grinned broadly and moved to stand in front of him. "Glad you could make it," she said in greeting, before giving him a friendly peck on the cheek.

"Nice to be here." He extended a bottle of wine towards her. "For your new home."

'You didn't have to ... thank you!" They made small talk for a few minutes, then she took him around to introduce him to her friends, all of whom gave him the once over before falling into conversation with him.

His eyes constantly sought Anne out as she circulated among the crowd, and every so often she'd catch him looking at her, smiling when she did so. At one point she joined the group he was chatting with, and he felt her hand brush against his; this gesture, simple as it was, aroused him greatly.

"We're running low on beer and wine," Anne said in a low voice. "Can you help me get some from upstairs? I should have brought it down earlier but ran out of time."

"Sure," he told her. He followed her through the shop and then outside to the entrance to her apartment; once upstairs in the kitchen she turned to face him. "What?" he wanted to know. "Where's the beer?"

"There's plenty of cold beer downstairs ... and everything for the party is in the back room of the shop," she informed him.

"Then why—" Steve got no further than that, as Anne forced him against the refrigerator and kissed him, her mouth devouring his hungrily. "But what if someone comes up?" he asked dumbly.

"No one's coming up here," she replied. "They have no reason to. They can use the shop bathroom, and everything for the party is downstairs." She kissed him again, then reminded him almost angrily, "It's been two months, Steve. Two fucking months. And I'm tired of fucking around having to wait." And with that he felt her hands at the front of his khaki shorts, which she quickly undid and let fall to the floor; she yanked his boxer briefs down enough to allow his erect cock to rise and eagerly meet her soft, delicate hand, and he sucked in his breath as her fingers began moving up and down the length of his shaft. She kissed him again, then whispered, "Take off my skirt, Steve."

This he did, revealing that she had no panties on—

Jesus holy shit Christ

, he thought,

if I'd have known

that

we'd have been up here much,

much

sooner

. She groaned as his hand moved over her crotch, then his middle finger sought her clit and started rubbing it. 'Hurry," he heard her whisper, "we can't be too long ..."

He was happy to oblige her, so without further ado he shoved his underwear to just above his knees; he grabbed Anne by the waist and whirled around so her back was against the refrigerator, and in one smooth move she was off her feet and he was inside her, thrilling at the feeling of her hot, wet pussy around his cock. "I missed this," she admitted softly,

"I did too," he informed her before kissing her again, and she made a soft growling noise as his lips crushed hers.

Minutes passed in near silence as they fucked, then her harsh command of "Faster, baby ... faster," caused him to roughly increase the cadence in which he drove his cock in and out of her dripping pussy. He glanced quickly at her face and saw that she had her lips pressed tightly together to keep herself from crying out. 'Like this, baby?" he wanted to know, and she nodded frantically.

When he felt himself about to come, he again pressed his lips to hers to keep both of them from shouting out and possibly alerting her friends to the goings-on upstairs; a muffled squeal from her let him know that she had come when he did. When he drew back to look at her she gave him a huge grin. "That was amazing," she told him, as he carefully lowered her to her feet.

"That was," he repeated. After one final kiss, they quickly straightened up and re-joined her friends in the rear parking lot, exchanging lustful glances and playful smiles as they moved through the crowd.