I was at home on a Friday night, staring at a blank page on my computer screen. I had this perfect character thought up in my head. The classic sheltered girl turned rebel when she got out on her own, but couldn't find the words to put her down on paper.

I closed the window, got dressed and went out. Everything about the girl in my head was bothering me. My doctor told me that it was probably a fantasy that I needed to fulfill, but I didn't buy any of that crap. I mean I had had my fair share of women, blondes, brunettes, red heads. Oh, yeah? the red heads can be more than a handful.

I pulled up to one of the only places open at three in the morning, sat down in my favorite booth, and lit up a cigarette. Now, I didn't frequent this place at this time of night usually, but I wanted some coffee, and to do some people watching. This was the place to do all that.

Some inspiration hit me for details about the girl in my head, so I grabbed a napkin and started to write them down. The waitress came and refilled my mug twice while I was at this. Groups of teenagers had come and gone, and I was on my last cigarette. Of course, I knew I should have either brought another pack from home or stopped to get some more; I hadn't done either.

I grabbed up my notes, put some money on the table and left to buy some cigarettes. I figured if I was on a role with this girl for the first time, why break the train of thought and go back home.

Upon returning, I found someone was sitting in my booth. I shrugged and took up residence in one of the high counter stools. My previous waitress placed a freshly brewed mug of coffee in front of me, and said to yell if I needed anything else. Well, at this point, yes I was ready for something else, and had decided maybe my doctor was right. I needed to make this fantasy into a reality and get laid by this girl I had in my head.

After my fifth mug of coffee, I paid the nice lady and returned home.

Getting my fill of sleep, my body awoke in the mid-afternoon. Cooking was never really my thing, so I opted for eating out. Showered, dressed and very hungry, I grabbed my keys and walked out the door. I ended back up at the same place I was the night before.

Now, the one thing I liked best about this place was different shifts had different customers to watch. Morning shifts were the workers, blue collared hard working men and women. Second or afternoon shift usually bought in the freshly out of school workers, who only had thirty minutes for lunch. Third or night shift brought in the crazies. Teenagers out having a good time, drunk people looking for some coffee, food and a jukebox to sober up to, and then of course, the silent people looking for time of their own or to watch; me.

Seeing as I was out so late the night before, and had slept in, I was showing up, a little before shift change. This being the normal time I am there, everyone said Hello to me and asked me how I was. I chit-chatted and bullshitted around for longer than I thought, when she walked in.

Immediately catching my eye were the blonde roots of her long black hair. She was wearing a tight black shirt that was just below the knee, but the slit was up to the top of her thigh. Black patent leather stiletto heels that had to have been five inches tall. I couldn't take my eyes of her. It was her, the girl that had been bothering me in my head for months.

She came in, paid for her to go order and left. I asked my waitress if she knew her and came here often and I was informed that she only came on Thursday's at early evening time. Okay, so I now knew where I was going to be every Thursday at this time.

Three weeks later, I found myself sitting there waiting on her. I heard her heels on the floor before she ever walked up beside me to pick her order up. I turned in my seat and I asked her how she was doing today.

Her voice was just as I thought it would be. Polite but with a rough edge, very different than my own, which was a whiskey toned voice. She smiled through heavily made-up eyelashes, but the smile didn't reach her eyes. Interesting. It was just my luck that she would not be attracted to females. She paid for her food, and turned to leave.

My waitress came up to me and just gave me the I'm-sorry-smile and finished up with other customers she was waiting on. I went home that day and vowed that I would not be there next Thursday.

The following Thursday came around and passed; I didn't go. The next Thursday came and passed; I didn't go. Okay I was doing good, until the dream. I woke up from this dream dripping; everywhere. It was so real. I didn't normally have dreams, at least ones that I remembered, let alone ones that put me in that aroused state of ecstasy. The Thursday following that dream, guess where I was? Yep, sitting in my spot next to the cash register waiting to hear her heels.

She showed up right on time, picked up her order and left. Never blinking an eyelash in my direction the whole time. Of course, never having that kind of dream about someone, when I saw her I couldn't open my mouth to say a goddamned thing. What are you supposed to say to someone that you don't know, and have dreamed about it intimate ways. I had a dream about you and we were going at it like wild animals?I don't think so.

Faithfully, I went and drank my coffee for the next two months on Thursday's. Okay, this was getting ridiculous. She must think I am a stalker, but finally it happened. While I was in the bathroom one Thursday, she picked up her food and left before I got back to my seat. What I found that day when I got back floored me. It was a random business card with her phone number on the back.

Okay, so maybe I rubbed off on her or something and now she has noticed me. I couldn't bring myself to call her, so I just made sure I was there the next time she showed up. Sure enough, next time we were both there again, nothing... not even a peep out of her. Okay. I stopped going on Thursday's again.

My doctor said it would be good for me to do something else and get this woman out of my head. So, one night I go to this strip club not far from my house. She's there. No, get your mind out of the gutter, she wasn't a stripper there, but the Assistant Manager. I don't think she saw me, and if she did, she didn't do anything about it.

As I am leaving and heading to my car, a woman asks me if I have a light. It was her. She must have been waiting and watching for me to come out of the club. Sure I say and light her cigarette. She follows me to my car and the next thing I know, she is pressed up against me. It felt heavenly. Cigarette forgotten, her hands press into my thighs and she dragged her fingernails up and then across my stomach.

Now, I am not used to be the one seduced, as it is usually the other way around. So after catching my breath, I grabbed her hands and spun her around. Ever had sex in a parking lot? No? Okay, well you should.

I pinned her wrists above her head and shoved my thigh in between her legs. I could feel her warmth though my jeans. She had obviously been watching and wanting this all night. I dragged my tongue down the side of her exposed neck and across her collarbone. I felt the groan more than heard it, and her hips started to move in a circle across the top of my thigh.

I whispered in her ear that her hands needed to stay above her head and that she wasn't allowed to touch me. When I saw her head shake in agreement I released her wrists and busied my hands. The first thing I did was to better position her by clutching her backside and lifting her higher on my thigh. Helping her by guiding her hips in time with mine, I looked at her face to see her biting her bottom lip.

Her eyelashes were fluttering half open, and I noticed that they were green; dark green with desire. I lowered my head to the top of her exposed cleavage and nipped my way back up to her earlobe.

"I never said you had to be quiet. I want to hear you." Small whimpers turned into throaty moans and growls as I held her up against the car. "You've been wanting this, haven't you?" I am not sure which sent her over the edge, my talking to her, or the movement of our bodies, but at this point I didn't really care. She was there and she was pleasuring herself with my body.

It was over too quickly for me. After she finished trembling and she fell slightly limp against my body, I lowered her feet down to the ground while placing one last soft kiss on her pulse point. I stepped back from her, so that she had a little bit of personal space and to also look at her face.

"Thank you." And she was gone. Of course, I watched her walk back into the club without saying anything to her. I never got to taste her, to fill her up, or to make her beg, but at least I knew she was interested. It was a start for me. The next time I saw my doctor, he of course told me all this was a bad idea and I should stop anything else from happening. What's he know anyway? Whatever.

The following Thursday I hoped to see her when she picked up her food, and I did. When she saw me she winked and asked how I was doing. I told her the truth, grabbed her hand and walked back to the bathroom. She willingly followed. When we were behind closed doors, I pressed my body up against hers and kissed her fiercely.

"What's your name?" She had to repeat herself twice before it registered and I answered.

"And yours?"

"Pandora." I stopped dead in my actions and looked into her eyes.

"You have got to be kidding me?" What a moment to stop and ask questions.

"My mother had a wicked sense of humor, now where were you? I don't have that much time."

I shrugged my shoulders and continued on with my ministrations. I became completely involved with devouring this woman whole. I pushed her shirt up around her neck and found a front clasped bra, easy access. In a heartbeat it was undone, and her breasts in all their glory were presented to me.

Her slender fingers wound their way into my hair and pulled slightly. I growled. I wanted this woman in the worst way, and this bathroom was the best it was going to get for now. I really should try and call her. While feasting on her breasts, I reached my hands as far down her legs as they would go and dragged them up.

Finding that she was wearing thigh highs and garters, it was now or never. She knew my intentions and pleaded with me to continue. With two fingers I pushed her panties to the side and guided my fingers through her outer lips into her liquid heat.

After a few long strokes and my fingers now well coated, I slipped inside of her and felt her walls grabbing me. She wrapped her leg around my lower back as I picked up my pace. She was close and she was ready. I stopped my attention to her breasts and lifted my head from its sanctuary. I wanted to watch her. I added a third finger to mix. She exploded against me as her nails dug deep into my shoulders and she arched into me.

I stilled all motion while her body calmed down and then slowly slipped out of her. She kissed my cheek, said thank you, all while straightening her clothes and walked out the door. She walked away again! Before washing my hands, I held my fingers up to my nose. She smelled heavenly, a scent that would forever be engrained in my brain. I then washed my hands and returned to my now cold cup of coffee. I sat down with a sigh and lit a cigarette.

The only good thing I could think of that had been coming out of our encounters was my column was getting more feedback in the magazine I wrote for. So, I paid my bill went home and decided to write and figure out a way to get this woman back to my place and learn her story.

Sitting in front of my computer again, I started to make a mental check list of what I did know about this woman. She was blonde, with dyed black hair. She must be fairly smart to be management. By all appearances she fits my definition of a woman rebelling. What I didn't know. Where is she from? How old she is? And why the hell did her mother name her Pandora?

With these questions rolling around in my head, I created a character, and filled in the blanks for purposes of my column and my readers. With any luck, she reads the magazine I work for, and since she knows my name will read my column.

Thursday came around, and my editor called me in for a meeting. I missed her that day. So that night, I showed up at the strip club. I don't see her, but just as I am getting ready to leave she walked down the stairs from the second floor. I mentally slapped myself for not checking the second floor.

I was sitting at a small table close to the wall, and far enough away from the stage that the girls would not be offended with not getting tips from me. I watched as she weaved her way around all the tables to mine. All the while, in my head I was making a list of questions that I wanted to ask her. I never got the chance.

She sauntered up to me in a little black silk and lace number covered by a very nice sporty jacket. When she got within a hair's breath from touching me, I started to open my mouth for my first question, but my lips were quickly covered by hers in a demanding kiss. Helpless against this woman's advances, my arms slipped around her slender waist and pulled her onto my lap.

Now up until this point, Pandora had never touched me, touched me. You know what I am getting at here, but that all changed that night.

Her hands were resting on my shoulders as I pulled her to straddle my legs and sit down. Once she was settled her hands began to roam up and down my arms, across my shoulders, up to my face and down to the first button of my oxford shirt. Slowly, too slowly, she began to unbutton it and tug it out of my pants. Her hands felt tender and slightly callused against my skin, and gooseflesh popped up wherever she touched.

She grazed the palms of her hands across my nipples and I felt them respond immediately. The kiss that had made me breathless had stopped and I was struck with the intensity in her gaze as her eyes followed the path her hands were taking. My hands were rested on her hips and I gently started to guide her back and forth into my abdomen. She had other ideas first though.

Her hips had quit moving and her hands slipped from my breasts down to the button on my pants. She undid the button, agonizingly slowly slid my zipper down and reached for the waistband of my boxers. She looked up into my eyes at that point and when she did I leaned forward and kissed her for all I was worth.

When she took my bottom lip in her mouth and nibbled on it, I felt her fingers pulling back my waistband and slip down my stomach. Having never been taken like this, my senses were on overload and I was ready for her.

I felt her fingers play with my pubic hair for a moment, kinda like testing the waters. I know if I could feel my wetness then she surely could. At the same time, her tongue started to tickle my lips. At this moment, I knew this woman would be the end of me.

It happened in a heartbeat; she slipped inside of me and started pumping her hips for added pressure against my center. I didn't last long, and when I came my moans were swallowed by our passionate kiss. The world flipped upside down, and I wondered briefly what I had been missing all this time, never having had an orgasm like that one before. I realized it was her that I had been missing.

She slowed down her movements but not stopping completely and when my muscles stopped grabbing at her fingers she slipped out of me as easily as she had slipped into me. I broke the kiss and took a deep breath, exhaling it loudly and slowly. When I opened my eyes that I hadn't even realized I had closed, she was sucking on her fingers, and I was ready to go again.

She pulled the sides of my oxford closed over my chest. "Call me sometime," was all she said as she climbed out of my lap and went back to work.

I buttoned and zipped everything that needed to be and returned home. Many questions now plagued me about myself as well as about her. So many that I didn't even sleep the rest of that night. Why was it that a woman I barely know affects me like no other? Why do I almost need her? These were the two main ones about myself that I was afraid to answer.

I am a simple person. I write a column for a writer's magazine. My column is to help people build their own characters, to learn how to make them believable and likeable by their readers. Hence the reason, I had thought up a woman of this nature. It had become an obsession that with this last submission I had finally gotten down on paper. Of course, the words had hit me upside the head right after I met my character; Pandora. I suppose when she became a reality to me that was the catalyst that caused me to finally identify with her enough to write about her.

A week passed. I did not go on Thursday's, I did not to go her work. I had things that I needed to think about. After exhausting myself, I figured out a plan. I called her on a Monday, she was there and answered. I had been hoping for her answering machine. This was probably better though. We talked briefly and I invited her on our first date to go for coffee and actually talk. She accepted. We hung up.

I didn't talk to her or see her for the rest of the week. I had picked a nice Café for the event for two reasons. I figured that if we were in that kind of public place nothing sexual would happen except flirting and I wanted to take her someplace nicer than the previous two places we had met and seen each other at.

Friday finally came and it was an hour before I was to meet her. I was excited and nervous to say the least. I dressed nicely for the occasion. A white oxford, black slacks, boots, and my nice leather jacket. Now, I was fairly tall for a woman, measuring in at five foot eleven inches. I had my mother's blue eyes and my father's raven hair. Striking is how most men and women would describe me, but I really didn't think I was much.

I showed up early and picked a table that looked out the glass front of the coffee shop so I could see when she arrived. Being that this was technically our first date, I wanted to make a good first impression. She of course arrived twenty minutes late.

After the small talk and greetings were out of the way, we ended up talking until the place closed. Being that it was nine 'o clock at night, we decided that food was in order and went to a hole in the wall diner; her choice. After eating and talking for a few more hours, I sucked it up and invited her back to my place.

My suspicions were correct. Pandora grew up under parents that had kept her very sheltered on a farm somewhere out in the middle of nowhere where nothing was happening or going to happen. Men were the devil, sex only got you into trouble. The part of the story that I never would have guessed was about her name. Well, at least not have guessed it was this bad.

Her mother believed that she had opened Pandora's Box when she had gotten pregnant. She always told her that she had named her Pandora so that her daughter would never forget what can happen to you when you do the Horizontal Tango with a man. She assured me that her parents loved her very much, even though her mother had had reservations about the pregnancy in the beginning.

She moved out as soon as she could, received a degree is management and got a job at the one place that would cause her mother's toes to curl. She was twenty-nine and only three years younger than myself. To fit her unique name, she had changed the color of her hair, for shock value, and found that after some time she really liked it.

That night was a year ago, and that's how we met. The whole sordid and sappy story, and yes I tell it at any chance I get to tell it.