Love Never Dies

By Maggie May

A sexy and bittersweet love story told by a handsome young college student who falls in love with a mysterious and beautiful woman he meets over the phone while he’s conducting a provocative survey for his human sexuality class and she agrees to have phone sex with him.

Sexually explicit and for adults only.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Maggie May
• Release date: Sep 5, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005961152

Maggie May

Besides being a Wicked Pen Writer, I have a master’s degree in English, and worked in a library for many years. Now, I'm a full-time writer. Ideally, I'd like my erotic stories to be read aloud with your favorite partner(s). That's what we do.I've written 18 erotic stories so far. These naughty tales feature threesomes, lesbian erotica, an alpha male homicide detective, a ghost, a vampire, a college student, a phone sex operator, sexy firemen, and a wide assortment of women trying to figure out how they can handle their emotions amongst all these glorious men. I love to travel, and my erotic stories take place in my favorite travel destinations: New Orleans, Charleston, and Memphis.

Book preview

Love Never Dies

by Maggie May

Copyright Maggie May June 2022

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used without the written consent of the author, except for brief quotes in reviews.

Please respect the hard work of this author. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and places are either the product of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons (living or dead), locales, and companies is entirely coincidental.

Chapter One

My name is Zach Stevens, and I am 24 years old. This is a story about my love affair that was never meant to be. Sadly, in my relationship with a beautiful and sexy 29-year-old woman, there were no hearts-and-flowers-type endings for us. Maybe we will meet again someday. I still haven’t given up hope.

She told me she loved me three times. Yes, I am counting each time as I write this. I repeat to myself: one, two, three times she said that she loved me. I was lucky to have her in my life, even though it was only for six weeks.

I can think of many different titles for this story of mine that I’m writing tonight. I wish that I could call it Love Gets a Second Chance or maybe a song from the 1980s called Don’t You Forget About Me that I often play while I’m sitting alone in my living room drinking a glass of wine after work on Friday nights. But a more accurate title for our affair might be called Tainted Love.

Let me tell you all about my intense and fleeting love affair with this beautiful lover and how it all started.

I was a senior at UC, Santa Barbara, and was a struggling Liberal Arts major living in my old bedroom at my parents’ house after my wife kicked me out of our apartment. She had told me that she wanted a divorce after seeing me talking to a pretty young lady in our apartment complex’s communal jacuzzi. That night, the hot tub lady my wife was so jealous of was wearing a skimpy bikini. The bikini top was crocheted in a very loose weave and left little to the imagination. She looked hot, I gotta admit.

I wasn’t the only guy who was with her in the jacuzzi that night gawking at her. There were two other horny bastards there with me. They couldn’t keep their eyes off her either. I never did get a chance to have sex with this sexy hot tub lady. I would have liked to—believe you me—but I had a feeling that she was way out of my league. I was barely scraping by working at the Santa Barbara Public Library and making minimum wage.

My wife divorced me after we’d been married for only one year. I guess we were both too young and immature to make our marriage last as long-term as we both had hoped it would when we got married at Saint Cecilia’s Catholic Church in Tustin. She had gone to a grammar school that was on the same property as the church. She went to Mass every Sunday, and I dutifully came with her, even though I’m agnostic. I never got much out of it. I enjoyed the music at Mass more than anything else.

After my divorce, I stopped working because my parents wanted me to get a good education and go far in my life, so they let me stay at their house without having to pay for room and board. I concentrated on school and my goal was to get my bachelor’s degree as soon as possible. I wanted to go back to work after I graduated and eventually make enough money to go to London. I’d always admired England’s rich cultural heritage and wanted to visit London’s art museums, see some musicals, go to retro bookstores on Charing Cross Road, and maybe meet a cute British young lady and take her out for afternoon tea at Harrod’s.

I hoped that the director of the library where I used to work would rehire me after I graduated. Luckily, she kept the job open for me and later, after I graduated from college, she welcomed me back. I had kept in touch with my coworkers and was lucky enough to have a very supportive supervisor, an attractive woman in her 40s.

I loved working with my coworkers at the public library. Most of them were well-educated. We used to have really fun parties on Saturday nights and one year I invited everyone I worked with over to my apartment for a 60s party.

Before the party, I had planned on having two contests, each with prizes to give away. There was a best-dressed contest and a Name That Tune contest that everyone seemed to enjoy.