Chapter 1

She filled my coffee cup and I mumbled thanks. It took me a moment to notice that she hadn't taken the pot and moved to another table. I looked up at her and she knew what I was thinking. "Just curious" she said, "Every morning you come in here and it's the same thing. Several cups of coffee while you read the morning paper and eat your breakfast and then you take that pad out of your briefcase and write on it for a half or or so while you drink more coffee. What are you writing?"

"I don't know you well enough to tell you."

"Oh come on. I've been pouring your coffee and serving you breakfast for over five years now. It doesn't make us the best of friends but it ain't chopped liver."

"If I tell you, you are liable to think I am a pervert."

Debbie laughed, "Honey, I know perverts - I'm married to one, and you would have a long way to go to even come close to matching him."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really."

"I write erotic stories and post them on an Internet site."

"No kidding?"

"No kidding."

Debbie pointed to my legal pad and asked, "Is that one?"

I nodded my head yes and she asked, "What's it about?"

I handed her the legal pad and she sat down on the other side of the both and started to read. Once or twice she stopped reading and looked over at me before going back to the story.

When Debbie was done she handed the pad back to me, "That's wild. I know her."

"Know who?"

"The woman in the story - I know her - I went to high school with her."

"Thanks, I needed that."

"Needed what?"

"Positive reinforcement. A lot of what I write sounds hokey to some people, but what makes a story work for me is if at least one person can read it and identify with it or part of it."

"Where do you get your material?"

"Some of it comes from personal experience, some comes from hearing people talk about their experiences and some of it comes out of thin air."

"Out of thin air? How is that?"

"Well, you just gave me a story and you didn't know it."

"Me? I gave you a story?"

"Sure. Here, let me show you."

I took my pad and flipped to an empty page and started writing.

OUTLINE

• Breakfast at restaurant.

• Waitress comments on fact I'm always writing.

• Tell her about erotic stories, wants to know where they come from.

• A. Personal exp.

• B. Listening to others.

• C. Out of thin air.

• STORY

• Needs a hook.

• A. She gets interested and wants to tell me about stuff that has happened to her.

• B. She gets turned on and wants to have fling and have me write about it.

• C. Need to talk to my sister/ girlfriend/cousin because she could really tell me stories.

• D. Need to get together with other waitress, she's a slut and could tell you some stories.

Need to work on it - pay more attention to what goes on in restaurant. Might get an idea.

I handed the pad back to Debbie and she read it. I saw a small smile develop and then she looked up at me. "C and D would work. My sister could tell you stuff that would curl your hair and Jen on afternoons is a perfect fit for D. My favorites are A and B, but I can't make up my mind about that. Hang on to your outline and I'll get back to you."

I tossed the outline into my briefcase with a dozen others and forgot about it.

The next day was Saturday and I never stopped for breakfast on weekends and Debbie was off on Mondays so I didn't see her again until Tuesday. I was drinking coffee and reading the Sports section of the paper when Debbie slid into the booth across from me.

"What about a combination of A and B?"

I put the paper down, "What?"

"The outline, what if you combined A and B? The idea would be to start out telling about experiences that happened and then have it lead into a fling."

Debbie was right. That would work better than either A or B standing alone. "Who do you see as the girl? Your sister, cousin or Jen from afternoons?"

"No silly, me! I'm thinking of me."

"You aren't serious?"

"Sure I am. I've had a lot of things happen to me and I think it would be a kick to tell it to someone and then to see it in print. You wouldn't use my real name, would you? And we could makeup the fling part. I could tell you one of my fantasies and you could use that as the fling part and write it as if it really happened."

"I don't know Debbie. We would have to spend an awful lot of time together for you to tell me about your past. What would your husband think?"

"He works afternoon and I have all kinds of free time in the evening. Can we do it? Please? I really want to."

What the hell I thought, I didn't really have all that much going on in the evenings right then and a good story is a good story.

Debbie arrived at my apartment at six and I got her a beer and we sat down at the kitchen table. She was nervous and fidgety and so I asked, "Having second thoughts about this?"

"Oh no! Well, yes, kind of."

"You don't have to do this."

"But I want to. It's just that, well, I don't know. No one is ever going to know it is me, are they?"

"Not unless you tell somebody."

"You won't tell anybody? I mean, you're kind of like a doctor or a lawyer and every thing I tell you is in confidence, right?"

"Not really, but think of me being like a reporter protecting his source."

"But no one will ever know, right?"

"Every one who visits the site on the Net will know the story, but no one will know that the story is about you."