Love, Sex and My Ex
Foreword
The
book is written in UK English, Primarily because the scene is set in Bermuda, a
British Overseas Territory.
This
story will hit a nerve with hundreds of thousands of people who have the same
plight as our protagonist, Robert Arden. He wants his ex back, in the most
desperate way possible. The focus of his efforts lies in his unending search to
achieve OBE's (out of body experiences) to connect with his ex-wife. Anyone, man or woman, could benefit from
Robert's experiences in this tale of love, lust and regret.
Happy
reading...
Love, Sex and my
Ex
An Erotic
Romance Novella
Introduction
How
many of us have lost the only person we ever truly loved. That one partner, we
now realize we can't live without. The one person whose mere touch can turn a
lousy day into a great one. The one true love we desperately want to get back,
no matter what.
What
if you just wanted to be with the only person you have ever truly loved, but no
longer loves you? Such was my dilemma. I wanted my ex back, to fill the void in
my life as only she could. This particular story deals with this issue.
Perhaps, just perhaps, you could learn from me.
My
name is Robert Arden and I'm going to take you on a most unusual journey. My
story begins shortly after my divorce. Is it a love story? Absolutely. Is there
filthy, depraved exhilarating sex? Of course. Humour? Who can live without it?
Swearing? A bit, but mostly from a rather unusual 'man of the cloth.’ Travel? Like you wouldn't believe. If the
preceding synopsis doesn't pique your interest, check yourself for a pulse.
Chances are you're dead, it's simply that nobody told you.
Love...
sex... and my ex. The first two words are in the correct order, if you don't
want to become the third. Read it again. We men tend to get the first two words
in the wrong order, (wrong as far as women are concerned) and that’s my point.
That is why we become ex-boyfriends, ex-husbands, ex-lovers.
Women
often fall in love with the way we smile, the way we speak, the things we say,
and the manners we demonstrate. The key to their heart, however, is the look in
our eyes when we see their face. After a while, sex becomes a natural
progression.
Men
on the other hand single out a woman they find physically attractive for
whatever reason, initiate sex ASAP, and then fall in love. Both routes can lead
to a happy conclusion, but we are going to discuss the ones that may not.
Specifically, we are going to journey through my failed relationship (which
left me an ex-husband) and the lengths I went to try and win my ex back. Did I
succeed? You tell me..........
First,
let me ask you a question. How many of you have experienced a lucid dream? A
dream so real you couldn't believe it was only a dream? How many of you have
killed someone in such a dream, or experienced incredible sex, or met up with
people who have been dead for years?
You've
dreamt you were flying or being chased by some horrible presence that gained on
you as you fled in agonizingly slow motion. I know you have. How do I know?
First, let me tell you what was gaining on you. Death, that's what. If it had
caught up with you, you wouldn't be reading this right now, so relax. We all
dream. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.
THE DREAM
Chapter
1 - Robert Arden
As
I stretched and began to wake up, the dream started to recede. One of the
tricks I had learned to recapturing a fading dream was to imagine myself
spinning slowly round and round in an anticlockwise fashion. I employed that technique
now and was rewarded with the dream that was slipping away coming back into
focus.
She
is so incredibly alluring, my wife of five years and ex-wife of one. Eleanor
Arden, now Eleanor Wilson once again. She lay naked beside me, the bedclothes
pushed off to the side as she did almost every night of our life together. I
smiled at the habit that left my ex-wife exposed to my view. My hand gently
traced the shape of her face as it slid down the exquisite jaw line and
continued slowly down the side of her neck to her shoulder.
I
still couldn't remember what had gone wrong. I loved this woman so much, I
could never understand how after only five years we had parted ways. As my hand
now moved gently over her right breast, the nipple stiffened and tickled the
palm of my hand as my fingers continued on their way towards the swell of her
perfect stomach. She was older than me by just over a year, and now in her late
twenties.
Continuing
down past her soft jet-black pubic hair, over the outline of her slender right
hip, down her thigh and coming to rest on her knee, the pangs of regret washed
over me now causing the dream to once again recede. I let it go and was again
for the millionth time left with only hurt and longing.
Fully
awake now I lay there, thinking about Eleanor, wondering if she ever considered
our divorce a mistake. Perhaps even wanting me back, wishing as I did that she
could turn back the clock. She had never remarried and for that I was somehow
grateful. As long as we were both single, I felt there was still a chance, no
matter how slim, of us rekindling the love that for me would never fade.
We
had remained casual friends (casual to her, not so casual to me) and bumped
into each other from time to time. She had even invited me for lunch at her
house on several occasions and I had always accepted, studying her body
language as she flitted around the kitchen, trying my best to read more into it
than was really there. We had always hugged when the inevitable time came for
me to leave, but I had always left feeling empty, wishing I could have poured
my heart out to her but scared that rejection would crush my only dream.
I
swung my feet out of the king-sized bed and reached for the notepad resting on
the bedside table. I stared at the title I had written on it. Dream Diary #12.
As I had faithfully done for the last two
years, I opened it up to the newest empty page and wrote the date in the
top right corner. After a moments hesitation, I began to write. Slowly at first
and then faster, trying to recapture my latest dream in as much graphic detail
as I could before it faded forever. This (I was assured) would reveal any
common dream thread. The common thread, was always Eleanor.
Satisfied,
I had caught and transferred to paper as much of the dream as I could honestly
remember, I replaced the note pad to its regular spot and opened up the largest
of three drawers that my bedside table possessed. The other eleven volumes were
stacked up in two piles inside the drawer alongside several other books. These
other books now engaged my attention. I looked at the titles of some of them
even though I knew them by heart. The Key to Lucid Dreaming. Easy Solutions for
Lucid Dreaming. Astral Projections and You. Out-of-body Experiences (OBE's as
they are commonly known) How to Turn a Lucid Dream into an Out-of-body
Experience (a step by step guide) I rested these books and another five of
similar content back in the drawer and closed it.
Eleanor
is the only daughter of an American Diplomat and his wife. Washington, DC was
home to the Wilson family. As for myself, my mother was English, and my father
Scottish. They had taken up residence in Bermuda, a year before I was born.
Tucker’s Town in Bermuda was all I knew. Half of my life revolved around
various beach activities at Tucker’s Point, a mere ten minutes from our house.
It was there I had first glimpsed the woman who became my wife.
I
lay back down and quietly took stock of my life after the divorce. Within no
more than three months, Eleanor had returned to Washington, and, to the best of
my knowledge, had settled there. As for myself, I had poured my energy over the
same period of time into growing a small but profitable local landscaping and
maintenance business. More through luck than good judgment, I had secured
several large contracts for my company by way of referrals including that of a
Persian Prince, who had purchased a second (or was it third) home abroad, this
one here, in Bermuda, and who only stayed here for three months of the year,
but requested that "Robert and his crew" properly maintain his
extensive and beautifully manicured property all year long. This lucrative
contract alone allowed me to hire my crew, three brothers and their uncle, on a
permanent basis and was responsible for tiding us over during the slower winter
months.
The
Wilson family, including Eleanor’s grandmother, had vacationed for almost three
weeks, at a home belonging to a friend of the family. The house was of medium
size, but its claim to fame was its proximity to the beach. I was pretty much
relentless in my pursuit of the Wilson’s daughter. She resisted my charms
(effortlessly it seemed) for the whole of her vacation. Not so the second time
her family visited. Against both her father and her mother’s wishes, we married
barely ten months after we first met. Five blissful years in Bermuda, tarnished
only by a divorce I never saw coming. How could I be so blind? I lost the very
best part of me. I took her for granted, I guess. What else could it have been?
What could I do to win her back? She didn’t need me, that was quite plain, but
is a relationship based on needs only, or are there other factors which could
tip the scales in my favour?
Chapter
2 - Robert
I
bumped into Eleanor unexpectedly at the airport on St David’s Island, where I
delivered a much needed suitcase to one of my forgetful friends, going away for
a two-week vacation to Florida. That awful longing returned full-force the
second I saw my ex. Her gorgeous long black hair swirled about her face in the
morning wind. The slightly lopsided smile that accompanied her attempts to keep
the hair away from her face made my insides melt... as it always had. She
gratefully accepted my invitation for a ride to the house of the women whom she
had always considered her best friend. Ashley, an artist, had been pursued by
many suitors, but never married. The two women were of similar age and almost
identical interests. The good news, Ashley had always liked me, the bad news...
just not for Eleanor.
