Second Chances
Copyright© 2025 by ahorsewithnoname
Chapter 4
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 4 - 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’d motioned to John at one point to bring coffee, having had his alcohol limit. He let her ramble, giving her occasional nods and other small bits of response to keep her moving forward. It was as if she had this great big weight on her back and he was content to let her shed it.
“And that is about it. I knew that if I were to stay even one more day, I would have ended up just like Autumn. I came home to try and salvage what is left of my life. I no longer have any friends here. Some have married or moved away, and the ones that know what I did in California all turned their backs on me. But that is alright because I won’t end up dead in some apartment with no one knowing my real name.”
He looked at her and was debating whether to say it or not. He didn’t want it to come off as flippant, not at all, but didn’t want it to sound corny either. Fuck it, he thought, {here goes.
“You are now MY hero.” He waited for her reaction, which was short in coming; a snort! Wasn’t expecting that he thought then paid attention as she replied.
“I am nobody’s hero. I made a lot of bad decisions, and I will spend the rest of my life living with them.”
Wounded, he thought. Without thinking, he reached across the table and took her hands in his.
“You did what you had to do to survive. That is very brave. They may have been bad choices, I will not say they weren’t, but you chose to go on. I have seen guys freeze up on the field, they lost their lives because they couldn’t make a decision. You chose to keep moving forward, and that makes you a survivor.”
He thought he saw the start of wetness in her eyes, and gently squeezed her hands a bit more, then saw the time on his watch. She saw the time too, her eyes showing surprise at the late hour. He saw her studying his eyes a bit.
“Why don’t I walk you home? You said you live above your mom’s shop? That’s right down the block, and the fresh air will do us both good.” He saw her nod, so he went to get his law enforcement gear back, and she joined him at the bar with her purse. The place was shutting down around them.
As they walked home, he thought about extending his arm but didn’t, not wanting to appear in any way forward at this critical juncture. During the small talk, he was trying to figure out how to ask her out without it sounding, well, too forward. He knew she was wounded and anything wounded needed to be treated gently.
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