It Happened One Halloween
Chapter 3: Morgan's Quest

Copyright© 2006 by Joesephus

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 3: Morgan's Quest - As a US Attorney tries to build a case a reporter tries to build something else.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Romantic   Halloween   Slow  

It took me almost four weeks to realize that Tyler wasn't quite perfect. In fact he was driving me crazy. Oh, I'd gotten four great stories out of our relationship, but I was seriously considering buying a vibrator. Tyler would take me to some nice place for dinner, then to a movie or some loud dancing club. If we talked, it would be all business, except at meals. He was a member of the clean-plate club. Okay not really, but as soon as I finished eating our personal conversation was over. So I ate slowly and I cleaned my plate... and I'd gained almost four pounds.

The more I discovered about him, the more I admired him. He was a real Horatio Alger story, the only child of a single mother. She died of a lingering disease just before he went into seventh grade. He never said, but I think it was AIDS. Alone with no other relatives, he became a ward of the foster care system. One foster dad introduced him to basketball and that proved to be his ticket out of the barrio. He'd been promoted to an Assistant US Attorney and then to a lead attorney, just a few months out of law school. The US Attorney's office was filled with green lawyers looking for experience, but to reach his level that quickly was almost unprecedented.

On his first case Tyler was expected to be little more than research assistant. Then both the senior and the lead attorney were riding together when a car ran a red light and hit them on the first day of the trial. The trial was an attempted murder by a gang member at the Federal prison in Bastrop. When the two US Attorneys didn't appear, the defense lawyer asked for a mistrial. Tyler stepped in and discovered everyone was one of those people who excelled in the courtroom. Many brilliant lawyers would become physically ill at the thought of facing a judge and jury. Tyler made special connection with juries, and wasn't rattled by even the most fearsome judges.

This gang case was his first major investigation. He had a whole gaggle of lawyers and staff assigned to him. All that was great, but in his ever-so-proper behavior towards me, I hadn't been kissed until earlier tonight. That was only because I acted very out of character.

We were hosting a small post-Thanksgiving dinner party at Tyler's apartment. Sitting around a fireplace sipping drinks, the conversation ebbed and flowed. Tyler and I were on the couch and he had his arm around me as he does when we're around others from the DOJ. Out of the blue, one of the other attorneys said, "You know, you guys have been dating for a month and I've never seen you kiss."

Tyler jumped right in, "Morgan's an old fashioned girl and you know how they are about public displays of affection..."

I interrupted, "Oh no, I'm not. I thought it was one of those Hispanic things," and I proceeded to lean over him and give him the best kiss I'd ever given anyone. I didn't plan to pull back until he knew he'd been kissed! When he began to return it, I felt my life pass before my eyes. When he stopped, I felt so boneless and breathless that I collapsed on the sofa. Can Tyler kiss! You might have heard the cliché that a kiss made my toes tingle? Well, that's not a cliché. I was flushed and I couldn't make my eyes focus. My toes were clenched so tight they hurt. Kicking off my shoes I tucked my legs under me, and leaned my head on his shoulder to gather my wits. I just was so frazzled I only heard the end of what his friend was saying.

"... in public I'm not sure you'd survive if you'd started sooner."

I could feel Tyler fidget. He might be great in the courtroom, but he always needs a few seconds to gather his thoughts before he responds to normal repartee. So I blurted, "All my life I've heard about Latin lovers, but I never believed it. They must have been talking about Tyler! You should see what he's like in private."

That's when I made a real faux pas. I thought I was just going to give him a loving pat on the leg, but I patted a little higher than I intended. He almost bolted from the couch when I discovered that he enjoyed that kiss as much as I did.

So why did he spend most of the drive home apologizing? I didn't know how to react when he said that in order to keep the target from being suspicious we'd have to kiss from time to time. I wanted to shout "it doesn't just have to be in public," but something about his tone made me rein in my excitement. Why are men so difficult? Why can't they be open like women?


Nothing can look as dead as Texas in February. I looked out my apartment window at a dreary, drizzly day. It dismal out, it was almost enough to brighten my mood. I was in love, in love for the first time in my life, and the man wouldn't... wouldn't what? Certainly we kissed, passionately. Between work and our "dating" we'd spent more time together than most couples do in two years. We talked, endlessly, and at meals we'd bared our souls. My theory about eating slowly didn't work, I've gained over fifteen pounds and I can't seem to lose them.

"He won't treat me as anything other than cover!" I announced to my empty room. Valentines Day was a week a way and I'd already discarded all sorts of schemes to let him know how I felt.

I sighed heavily and picked up my cell to call Jenna. Our weekly talks were always on Saturday because we sometimes talked for hours, and minutes on Saturday were free. When Jenna answered, we spent some time catching up as former roommates and best friends will do. Jenna was still in New York, but married and already expecting their first. She finally lost patience and nailed me to the wall.

"Okay, Morgan, we've talked for twenty minutes and you haven't mentioned Tyler once. If you'd broken up you'd be crying and if he'd taken you on a real date you'd be bubbly, so what are you going to do?"

"I don't know! I'm guess I'm finally ready to ask for advice. My current thought is to manipulate a Janet Jackson type "wardrobe malfunction," but I'm afraid that instead of exciting him, he might die of laughter."

Jenna laughed, then said, "I've never understood why you were so sensitive about your boobs. They aren't that much smaller than mine and I've never had any complaints."

"Give me a break! With all the weight I've put on, let's say I've gone from a blood type of A and negative, to barely A and a B."

Laughing Jenna said, "Oh Morgan, and I bet you're still buying for the A cup, aren't you? I guarantee that if Tyler isn't gay he'll love your boobs. Did any of your boyfriends ever complain?"

I snorted, "No boy's ever touched them, much less seen them. The only non-medical person to see them was you. Jenna, Tyler's such a beautiful man, how's someone who looks like me ever going to get him interested?"

Jenna's voice turned serious. "We've talked about this forever. You're a strikingly attractive woman, especially now that you don't look like someone trying for the heroin chic look. If you're really serious about Tyler, tell him."

"And what am I supposed to do if he says he isn't interested? How could I continue to go out with him?"

"You'll know where you stand and you'll act like a professional. Who knows, even if he's not interested now, seeing how you handle rejection might impress him. But I still have a crisp hundred dollar bill that says he's nuts about you."

The conversation continued in the well-worn grooves created over the last six or seven talks. Then I blurted out, "I got drunk at his place last night."

There was a long pause and I knew that Morgan was trying to form her words. She knew the only time I'd gotten drunk in my life was the day after my last sexual experience. With her voice full of concern she asked, "What happened?"

"We were putting on another little dinner party at Tyler's place and just before the last couple left I downed two glass of port on top of two margaritas. I didn't declare my undying love, but I thought that if I were drunk I could lose enough of my inhibitions to make a pass at him. My fall-back plan was to grovel at his feet, begging him to take me to his bed."

"What happened?"

I didn't have to pretend I was falling-down drunk, much too drunk to drive, and I knew that Tyler had a least one past the legal limit, so I figured at the very least I'd spend the night in his bed. I did, and he slept on the couch! When he put me to bed, I tried to pull him down on top of me. He was extricating himself, when I passed out. A perfect gentleman, damn it! He was even there with hot coffee and aspirins this morning. I can't be sure but I think he woke me with a kiss to my forehead. The forehead for Pete's sake! What kind of man wakes a girl with a peck to the forehead?"

Jenna laughed, "One who is kind and considerate of a girl with a hangover. Has the implication of a good morning kiss escaped you? I'm sure you weren't at your best and he still kissed you."

I grinned. Jenna can always make me feel better. "I did feel like Sherman's Army had marched to the sea through my mouth. Do you really think that was a good sign?"

We talked for a bit more and then, after we said good-bye, I gathered every ounce of my courage and hit my speed dial for Tyler. You've heard the expression "your heart in your throat?" Well my heart wasn't in my throat, but I could certainly feel the arteries in my neck throbbing. My heart was beating so hard I was sure he'd hear it... if he answered. In an instant my mouth had turned so dry I wasn't sure I'd be able to speak. I screwed up my face as the memory of this morning flashed through me.

As soon as he'd left the bedroom, saying he was going to fix us breakfast, I'd bolted from his apartment, too embarrassed to let him see me. I don't know what he was thinking about me, but in making this call I knew I was crossing my own Rubicon. Our relationship either had to grow, or... or... or somehow I'd have to find a way to continue without the man who Plato said I'd lost in our primeval state, my other half, the man whose soul had been joined to mine forever.

The phone rang again and I tried to reassure myself that if Tyler was indeed the other half of my being, then I was the other half of his. Oh God, please let it be so.

"Hello Morgan, are you okay?"

Damn caller ID! "I'm fine, a little embarrassed about last night." Then, before my rationalizer could stop me with a million excellent reasons to delay, I blurted, "We have to talk. Would you mind coming over here, I'll fix you dinner..."

There was a long pause, Then I thought I heard anguish in his voice when he said, "Sure Morg, I'll be there in about an hour. I'll be happy to pick up something if you don't want to cook..."

As his voice was trailing off my mind was working at warp speed. An hour! How could I possible be ready in an hour, much less fix anything. Besides I didn't have anything to fix. "That would be great, I'll see you in an hour."

For the next hour I was a whirling dervish of inefficiency. I didn't manage to get my place clean, myself fixed up, or seductive music picked for what I hoped would come later. I was trying, unsuccessfully for the third time, to apply my lipstick and simultaneously fix the botch I'd made of my hair when the doorbell rang. I blotted my lips, stuck my tongue out at the horrid image in the mirror, took a deep breath, squared my shoulders, and marched in dirge-time to meet my fate.

Tyler had a large sack that gave off the most tempting aromas of my favorite Chinese dishes. I took it from his hand, set it on the dinning table, turned and launched myself into his unsuspecting arms. I don't know if it was reflex or surprise but as he hugged me to him, with singular fierceness, sparks of passion dissipated the gloom I'd lived under all day.

I silently thanked God that while men might be able to hide their emotions they can't hide their desire. Judging from what I felt, Tyler really desired me. I leaned back and pulled his head down to make him kiss me. Have I said that Tyler's kisses curl my toes?

I don't know how long it went on, or when his hand moved to my bottom. I just knew that when I became aware of it, I broke the kiss and leaned back a bit. Then looking into those incredible eyes, I reached under the full skirt I chose for this very reason and pulled off my panties. I moved back into his arms and as our lips met I folded them into his back pocket. He didn't understand the symbolism of what I'd done, but he certainly didn't miss the message.

In a feat of impressive strength he swept my bulk up in his arms and carried me to my bedroom. He sort of stumbled as he laid me out on my bed but that was the only stumble he made. As he lay beside me, he consumed my being as his lips touched mine. I wasn't aware that he'd lifted the loose sweater I'd picked until I felt the first set of lips to ever touch my breast. He'd taken most of my left into his mouth and the warmth melted any resistance to having him see my deformity.

As he moved to my right, my nipples were so hard they were painful. When his tongue circled my areola, a static charge shot down to my sex. I grabbed his head by his ears and pulled his mouth up for a kiss. Then I did it again when I felt his kisses start to move south. As much as I wanted to experience the mysteries of oral sex, at that moment I felt I would die of emptiness if I didn't have him inside me.

I reached for his zipper and made a mess of it. He pulled back a bit and I felt him open his pants just before he moved over me. I pulled my skirt up out of the way and opened my legs to let him into me.

My breath whooshed out as he plunged all the way into me without hesitation or searching. A very distant portion of my brain wondered I was too big down there until I marveled at how aware I was of the shape of him inside me. I swear I could not only feel the head, but the tube that ran the length of the organ inside me.

Tyler pressed our pubic bones together and my clit screamed its pleasure. At the same time he pulled back from our kiss and suddenly my sightless eyes were lost in the wonder of the beautiful soul that shown through his whiskey-colored eyes. I was no more capable of speech than I was of flight, but the language of love needs no words. Our eyes spoke and our souls heard truth deeper than any other form of communication.

The sex act continued as our bodies sought ever more complete union, but our eyes were so lost in each other that the most massive orgasm I've ever experience almost went unnoticed. I was much more aware of the throbbing that I knew signaled his pleasure, but through it our eyes never so much as blinked. My whole universe had shrunk to the incredible soul behind those impossibly deep eyes.

At some point I became aware that not only was my soul linked to his, but that his heart was filling me with the most incredible essence. No sooner was I aware of his essence leaving me than I knew I could contain no more joy, no more happiness. In a fierce possessiveness I pulled Tyler to me. I wept tears as pure as the bliss that ran down from my center to stain my sheets.

For too short an instant, I felt my love joined to me body and soul. Then, I felt an unwanted tenseness in his body. He hadn't slipped from me, but I knew he was bracing himself to say something he didn't want to say.

"Don't say it. Please don't say anything." I pulled him to me with all my might and my tears felt hot on my cheek. I couldn't stand the thought that I might have now made love three times and the fourth time might be with a fourth man. I couldn't let Tyler make this our only time.

"Morg, I should never have done this. I do need to tell you some things about my past that will change your opinion..."

I cut him off, "This is the third time I've done this and you are my third man. If you plan to destroy what I think we have, please wait until our year is up. I've done everything I could to get you here." I squeezed him to let him know exactly where 'here' was. "And I want you to come back often. I know there's nothing in your past that would change that."

I took a breath, "Even if there is, please don't destroy what we have now. I promise that even if there's something so terrible that I wouldn't want to continue, right now I can't stand being another one-night stand." I paused again, "Please, Tyler, Please don't do that to me."

I felt his tension ease and he hugged me to him. I felt cherished and loved. I also felt a tiny bit guilty. I was pretty sure I knew what Tyler wanted to tell me and I didn't want to let it ruin this moment.

I also didn't want him to know just how thoroughly I'd checked him out. I'd used every bit of leverage that being a reporter for a major daily gave me. I now knew that his mother had several arrests for prostitution, and that she probably died of AIDS. I knew Tyler had been arrested and spent some time in youth facilities. Those records were purged, but his school records weren't. Most importantly, I knew that shortly after his mother died he turned his life around and became an inspiration to other troubled kids. I also knew that there was no birth record for his mother anyplace in the country. She was either illegal or had changed her name.

I was glad that he finally wanted to share his past with me, but not now, not when we were joined, not when I was still trying to show him that I was the other part of his being. I knew my search for my other half was over, and I wanted him to realize the same thing.


The last six months have been the happiest in my whole life. My columns have been a big hit locally. There's been interest in publishing them nationally, and I've even had a book publisher calling. Instead of straight news stories, I've tried to show the human side of the characters on both sides of this battle. I've interviewed gang members in jail or prison, and passed along the stories of the people who put them there.

I still have no idea if Mr. Seton was any closer to finding the leak in his office. The only thing I hadn't been able to do was to privately interview any current sex workers. I knew that I didn't stand a chance of talking to them at the various places where they worked. I'd even staked out one of the "Live Models" places, but I never saw a girl alone. They traveled in groups and I figured one of the girls was probably a gang member.

On the personal front, things were going great with Tyler. We'd had bumps and even some knock-down-drag-out-fights, but we hadn't broken up, walked away, or resorted to our professional relationship to keep our personal one going.

Two weeks after we first made love we had the take-the-guy-home-to-meet-the-parents. It was weird, but part of it was that I'd never brought anyone home. My parents had met my other boyfriends, but the significant ones were in high school and college. You don't have a high school beau for a sleep-over and my college "friend" never left New York.

 
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