Second Chances
Copyright© 2025 by ahorsewithnoname
Chapter 3
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 3 - Is it possible for a reformed Hollywood porn star to reclaim her life in small town America, and get a second chance? Possible, especially when it's with the local sheriff, who has some issues from his past. After a chance meeting, their relationship nurtures and grows, hitting some bumps but moving forward to the inevitable climax. It's an erotic story, but more of a true love story. You can read a bunch of reader's comments for this story at Bookapy.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Romantic Heterosexual Fiction Masturbation Oral Sex
He saw her turn back to her drink, and take a sip. Not much of an attempt, he thought, then decided that perhaps he was just a bit edgy and needed to chill.
“You said, Hutchins? Are you any relation to Martha Hutchins over at The Mortar and Pestle, over there on Main and Greenlawn?” He hoped that this diversion would take them to safer grounds.
“Yes. She is my mother,” she replied, thinking about her mom’s natural herb and essential oils shop, a hobby that had bloomed into a thriving business. “I guess knowing all the business owners is kind of a job requirement.”
“I do try. But she made me a eucalyptus and mint rub for my knee that works like a miracle. Even on bad days, it takes away most of the pain. Reminds me that I have to swing by and get another jar.” He took a swig from his glass. “I didn’t know she had a daughter.”
“I have been away.”
He looked at her once again and saw what looked like a wince.
“I lived in California for about eight years.” She seemed a little reluctant.
“Wow, that sounds exciting. I bet you have a lot of stories from the big city.”
He started to take another swig but heard her mumble something and so he looked toward her again and saw that she had lowered her head. Crap, he thought, his brow furrowing, I’m always stepping in it.
“I wasn’t meaning to say something to upset you.” His concern was present in his voice and upon his face.
“It’s alright,” she said, trying to calm him, “I’m fine, I just...” He saw that she once again was at a loss for words. What is it with her? Mass murderer, he mused silently.
“I don’t mean to pry, but would you like to grab a table and talk? I’ve been told that I’m a pretty good listener.” Last chance. I don’t wanna sound like I’m hitting on her.
“Are you trying to interrogate me, sheriff?” He saw the first sign of mirth in her voice, and smile, but he was still a bit concerned.
“Ma’am, I am off duty. Nothing you say can or will be held against you. So how about it, do you need a friend to talk to?”
“No, really, I’m...” and she stopped once more. He waited, and just when the silence bordered on getting awkward, a sure sign for him to leave her alone, she spoke up again.
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