The New Ending

The New Ending
by David Cain

Bill Tyler sat sadly nursing a beer when the sound of a woman’s voice, slightly intoxicated and very excited, erupted behind him.

“Billy Tyler!” she squealed, “Is that really you, Billy?”

Bill turned his head to get a glimpse at the woman who had ID’d him. He was greeted by a mane of red hair and a pretty smile.

“Sure is.”

“I’m Megan Stoltz!”


“I was friends with your sister, Linda, maybe eleven years ago.”

“Well …”

“You wouldn’t know me, I mean, we weren’t ever introduced or anything.”

“That would explain things.”

“How is Linda?” she asked, taking a seat opposite Bill.

“She’s in Florida.”

“Sounds like Linda. We spent that summer hanging out at the beach. Linda loved the beach.”

“Hence Florida.”


“Can I tell you a story about us?”


“I mean a story about you and me.”


“It’s crazy and I’ve never told anyone else.” She looked around, suddenly aware of who else might be listening. “Let’s move to a booth. Is that okay? This is kind of a personal story.”

“Sure,” said Bill, a bit intrigued and developing an attraction to this slightly crazed and yet delightful woman.

“Over here,” she said, sitting again opposite Bill. Leaning forward so she could speak softly, her breasts presented a deep and luxurious cleavage. Bill began to enjoy the encounter.

“It was summer and you were back from school. I knew who you were but you didn’t know me. Your parents were out of town and I had spent the day at the beach with Linda. You were working at that BBQ joint, I think. You were never around.”

“Sounds right.”

“Linda had way too much to drink, especially after spending all day in the sun, and she crashed out early. I don’t know why, but I was wide awake, sitting in Linda’s room, watching her snore. I don’t even know what I did, watched some television, did and redid my nails. I think I picked up one of Linda’s romance novels and skimmed through it, looking for the sex scenes. My ‘boyfriend’ was in France and I was unfulfilled. I mean horny.”

Bill’s eyes opened wide, surprised by her candor. Megan blushed.

“What can I say? I was horny and there was nothing I could do about it.”

“Sure,” Bill said, slightly out of breath.

“It was like one thirty when you came home. I thought maybe it was your parents but they weren’t supposed to be home. I didn’t really think about you living there, so I was curious and a little scared. You made noises, you know, getting stuff from the kitchen and then you turned on the television. I was relieved when you did that, because I figured there was no way a prowler would turn on the television. Then I remembered Linda telling me you were home. So I decided to check it out.”

“Your house had stairs from the upstairs bedrooms along the back wall of the family room. So I’m creeping like a little kid along those stairs until I get a view of you sitting on the recliner, eating a sandwich and watching television. You looked dreamy, kicked back and relaxing. I sighed and you looked around as if you heard me but I was in the dark and so you went back to your sandwich.”

“So you were spying on me.”

“Exactly. I couldn’t help it. You were this hot older guy and I was a horny young woman. I didn’t have the nerve to just walk down and get into your business, so I just hid on the stairs and watched you.”

Bill smiled. “Creepy.”

“Yeah. After you finished eating, you pulled a joint out of your wallet and lit up. I was so shocked, not because I had anything against weed, but smoking right there in your parents’ family room, that was bold.”

“They were out of town.”

“Still, I couldn’t believe it. Then you went over to a cabinet, reached deep inside and pulled out a video tape.”

“Uh oh.”

“Popped in an old video porn and sat back to suck on your doobie. This girl’s mind was blown.”

“I can imagine.”

“People get naked on the television and I’m crouched on the stairs in my t-shirt and panties. You’re just kicked back, getting high. Part of me was dying to walk down, take a hit from you and start a conversation. But with the porno rolling, I didn’t dare.”

“Too bad.”

“Too bad, indeed. You sat the roach down and tugged your pants open. Now there are people screwing on television and I’m staring at this huge erection.”


“I’d never seen anything like it,” said Megan, almost whispering. “I was mesmerized, staring hard at your big dick. I was awestruck and holding my breath. Then you started stroking it. My fingers instinctively moved down to my panties, which were completely soaked by this point.”


“I was matching your rhythm stroke for stroke, rubbing myself in tempo with you. It was a strange, kinky kind of sex.”

“You should have …”

“Of course I should have, but I just sat there watching and fingering. Thinking about it but unable to move.”

“Too bad.”

“Then this scene comes on the porn. It was bad eighties porn. Two women invited over some male strippers and they all got down. One of the stripper dudes goes into a bedroom where the younger sister of one of the women is hiding in the closet. She’s a real skinny chick, probably twenty something but with pigtails so she looks like a younger sister. She’s naked and wants to get it on.”


“So I’m hiding on the stairs, watching you watching this chick hiding and watching the porn guy. It was surreal. Almost cool, in a weird way.”

“I can see that.”

“Except the chick is totally coked up. Talking twelve miles a minute. Dancing around in this horrible unrhythmic way. She couldn’t stop moving, couldn’t stand still, but all of her movements are jerky, spastic, weirdly ugly.”

“Coke and sex don’t mix.”

“No they don’t and she proved it. And the film was from the eighties, so there was no Viagra to help the guy out. He is totally unaroused by her spastic actions. She’s grabbing him and pulling at him and talking filth and shaking her butt and he’s as soft as a baby bunny. Everything she tried to do to get him hard had the opposite effect on him. It was the saddest porn scene ever.”

“I think I remember that scene.”

“So I’m playing with myself watching you play with yourself and this coked-up chick is being a complete buzz-kill. Slowly and surely, just like the guy in the film, your sweet dick was going soft. The guy on the screen is struggling with frustration. Your hand stops moving. I slow down. The scene goes on and on.”

“Oh no.”

“Damn right. You fall asleep.”

“What did you do?”

“I went back to Linda’s room and played with myself until I passed out.”


“In the morning, you were gone, probably in your bed. Linda and I went to the beach again and that was the last time I saw you.”


“I’d say so. So I’ve always thought that, in a way, we had a kind of sex.”

“I guess we did.”

“So here’s my thought. We already did it, but it wasn’t very good. So I say, let’s do it again.”

“I’ve got some porn videos and a closet you can hide in.”

“Perfect,” said Megan. “This story needs a new ending.”


About David Cain

David Cain, literary author, bon vivant, rogue romantic poet - author of Witch, Song of Songs, Journals of Lord Malinov, Erotic Romances and others ...
This entry was posted in books, erotica, fiction, literature, literotica, personal, short stories, writing and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.