About This Story
As she nears her 34th birthday, Zuri finds her life in jeopardy and needs refuge.
A chance encounter, a touch unwarranted, turns her life upside down and inside out.
Memories she chose to forget come back, and all because of this mysterious man who changed her life.
Yet, the discovery of the past could be the downfall she thought she escaped.
Erotic Romance Thriller Powerful Sexy story about beginning again at the end.

The #ShortStoryChallenge pushed me to do this and I kinda liked it. I haven’t written a first-person story in a while and I certainly haven’t done a short story since Wrongly His. I loved the new hashtag floating around encouraging readers and I decided to dive in on the challenge and give my readers a treat. Let me know how you like it.
If you’ve read this already and looking for details about the live story coming up, Click here for more information. https://wp.me/p8Zp8-o6x
3/3/2020 – Scroll to the bottom of this post to start the next chapters of this story.
(Author’s Note: I do ask that you be 18 or over to read the following content. Thank you)
He touched me… (c) Sylvia Hubbard
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gotten his cousin pregnant.
When I realized he had done this, all he kept saying was, “But it’s my third cousin.” He repeated this phrase as if to justify everything.
Still, my heart loved him, and the familiarity of his lovemaking was like no other.
Although I’d never had anything much, I’d loved Rodney since ninth grade, and by twelfth, he was begging to be my boyfriend. There were others, because I didn’t curdle milk. I was and still am a cat’s meow. With a natural pear shape, deep doe eyes, flawless almond skin, a heart-shaped face, thick lips, and enough in the front and back to make a man look double at me, but I was reserved and conservative about not letting just any man touch me.
So why’d I let this stranger put his hand up my dress and fondle me on the public bus? Anyone could have seen us, but I didn’t care. How had he made me so wet? So quickly?
I blame my promiscuous actions on Rodney! Damn him for breaking my heart and breaking my moral code. Damn him!
I had made myself that one-of-a-kind girl that every guy wanted, but no one could touch. Rodney was the playa playa, but he knew he had to grow up to play my games.
My mother said I was silly to settle for one man, but how can I take advice from someone who couldn’t keep their legs closed to save their life?
Rodney took me to prom. Not only were we queen and king for the night, but Rodney got on his knees in front of everyone and asked me to be his queen forever.
It was every high school girl’s dream, and I was living it right in front of everyone. I knew every girl was jealous of me as I accepted his proposal.
He moved in the next day, and with my dad’s Social Security check, which I received after my father’s passing a year prior, Rodney and I planned to get married in one year.
Three hundred sixty-five days turned into about two thousand-ninety days later, and I still was not married, but I was dealing with his trifling ass as if I was his wife.
I worked full-time and went to school, saving every last dime for our future, while I helped Rodney get an excellent customer service job. He wasn’t brilliant, but he could charm people.
He became a manager within two years, with my prodding and help. His job had online testing, and I’d log in as him to take his test during my lunch break.
I even did the supervisor’s position test for him a few years later. We wanted to move out of my mother’s house, and I wanted a family of my own. I was almost done with school and getting to my mid-thirties. I needed this.
Then I found out about the cheating.
Well, my mother found out.
Brought me Rodney’s phone while he was in the shower and showed me all the illicit text exchanges.
When Rodney stepped out of the shower, he had two pissed off women glaring at him for answers.
“She was a third cousin.”
What a fool I was!
I kicked him out of the house and told him I never wanted to see him again.
But the heart wants what the heart wants.
Rodney took my virginity and could make love to me so good I thought I was going to die.
He was always willing to do the work it took to warm me up because I was always afraid of sex. And then he’d ease my clothes off. Warm me up some more and then…
Most times when he made an entrance, I wasn’t wet enough.
I was never wet enough, but Rodney said that’s why God made lubricants.
I always wanted to correct him and let him know God didn’t make lubricant, but I knew that would be a mood killer. Rodney hated it when I pointed out how stupid he was.
Rodney had to use a lot of lubricants. He’d say I was never wet enough.
But he’d work with me. Sweating, panting, and straining, he’d work with me and the lubricants, and then I’d feel the tremble between my legs.
Yes, it was a lot of work for a few seconds of heaven, but in the end, it was worth it.
I felt no man could make me feel like that.
Right?
Wrong!
The stranger wasn’t a stranger. I’d seen him on the bus a couple of times before in his bowtie, pristinely ironed tweed suit, and thick leather messenger bag. He had to be about 35, an African-American, muscular geek. That’s what I determined. Most likely, he was a social outcast in high school, decided to lift some weights, went to coding school, and lived a life as a dedicated introvert. Whenever he was on the bus, at least once, he would push his thick-rimmed glasses up using his middle finger as if to say, “F-you muhfugs!” But in this prissy voice. That’s what I imagine his voice sounded like.
He never spoke, and he only rode the bus for about 10 minutes before getting off.
After throwing Rodney out, my life seemed to go downhill.
The very next day, my car overheated, and the repairs were more than I could handle, so I had to start catching the bus. I saw the stranger on the second day of my bus ride. He made eye contact with me, narrowed those pensive, big, hazel, cinnamon eyes at me, and then looked away.
I could give a rat’s ass about him.
I was still upset about Rodney.
My mother called and said Rodney came by to see if I needed a ride to work.
“Fuck him,” I said to her and hung up.
People looked at me on the bus, but I didn’t care. The stranger didn’t look at me. I don’t know why this irked me. Was I getting up there in age and wasting all my good years with Rodney? Or did my face look like I felt on the inside? Run down and tired of Rodney’s shit.
What the hell did I care that a stranger didn’t look twice at me? I didn’t care.
A week later, and trying to avoid Rodney like the plague, I caught the earlier buses so I didn’t see the stranger.
“Please, baby, please!” Rodney begged as I waited for my bus. I hadn’t gotten out of the house in time, and he’d caught me and followed me up to my bus stop in his car, begging for forgiveness. “I swear it was all a mistake, and we can try again. I swear. Just let me take you out for dinner.”
.
“Fine,” I said, because other people at the bus stop had started listening to our conversation. “Just go!”
I was too proud to ask him to take me to work. Rodney was going to have to do a lot to get me back again.
Dinner turned into lunch on weekends, then into more dinner dates. He started acting like an adult again, but I still wouldn’t let Rodney move into the house. He was staying with his parents.
Two weeks later, I finally gave him consent to move back. We were going to plan a honeymoon before marriage that night, but I got stuck at work. The next day, I was to present my thesis at school, so I told Rodney to go ahead and move in.
My mother seemed okay with this.
I let them both know right after work that I was going to head to school and see Rodney when he got home.
But my boss told me he didn’t need me for a whole shift, and I could go.
My feet ache, but I didn’t call Rodney to come pick me up from work. I caught a cab and quietly went into the house just wanting to snuggle up to my man for a couple of hours before he had to go to work. I didn’t even need to be at school until later, so I dumped my heavy school bag, purse, and jacket so I could just run out the door. I took a shower in the basement so I wouldn’t disturb anyone, put on a long summer dress, and tiptoed up to my room where I knew Rodney would be.
I opened the door, quietly excited that I would get some good loving from my man, until I realized… My mother was getting his loving.
Rodney was pile driving into my mother so hard, her juices were shooting all over the place.
Horrified, disgusted, and appalled, I screamed at the top of my lungs.
They both froze like they were doing a porn mannequin challenge, and then Rodney jumped out of bed. “Baby…”
I ran down the stairs and, like I was on autopilot, grabbed my things, jammed my feet into my clog work shoes, and ran out of the house to the bus stop. I most likely looked like a hot mess on the crowded bus.
No seats available, I squeezed toward the back door of the bus to see Rodney chasing the bus, wearing just the underwear I’d just given him for his birthday in May, screaming my name, saying, “Please! Please! Please!”
Fuck him! I told myself to wipe the tears away.
My plan: to sit at school, present my final thesis, and never go back home again.
I was finished with school, the crappy job I had was only to save up until I finished school, and I was never going to talk to my mother ever again.
Today was going to be a new day for me. Again, I wiped more tears from my cheek, but even then, my eyes were filling up with more waterworks.
The stranger pushed through the thick crowd and stood beside me. I pressed close to the back door until the bus driver warned me not to, so I was forced to push towards the stranger. I was embarrassed. He had to have seen I was crying.
I turned my back to him and held onto the pole. He put his hand above mine on the pole. He was a head taller than me at five feet.
There was a sheet of metal dividing the people sitting, and with his back to everyone else, even the people standing were shielded. It was the reason I had stopped in this space. It gave me the privacy to cry, but this stranger was interrupting my misery.
When the bus rocked, I rocked, but the stranger’s body was like steel. He didn’t move. His rough tweed jacket rubbed roughly against my shoulders, and for a moment, I forgot about everything and let the tweed move over my skin. It was nice to be touched by just anything.
Then his hand was on the side of my thigh.
I could have stopped him. I should have stopped him.
I didn’t.
After a moment, his palm moved up under my summer dress, and absolutely no other resistance greeted him. I felt his foot press against mine to move my legs apart.
I did!
His hand moved around to the front of my thigh and finally rested on the entrance of my womanhood. The tweed’s constant rubbing distracted my senses enough until his index finger pressed between my slit.
His touch was gentle, not insistent like Rodney’s, and he didn’t have long nails. The stranger plied his index and middle finger between my folds and, in a faint circular motion, began to play with my most sensitive place.
I had to press the back of my head against his chest and bite on my lip.
Damn, it felt good.
I gripped the pole hard. His other hand moved down to cover my hand.
It was intimate, but no one else knew what was going on.
Eight times. I counted the circular motions because each one felt better than the last, and then he pressed deeper into the folds where he fingered me deeply with two fingers while his thumb continued to rub my clitoris.
A bursting sensation exploded inside me. I had to look down to make sure my stomach had not popped open.
That had not happened, but I could feel something running down my legs.
Had I peed?
He moved his hand away abruptly from the pole and pulled the bell.
His other hand moved up, and I could hear him smelling them.
I blushed hard.
“You smell like candy,” he whispered.
And he didn’t have a high-pitched nasal voice as I had imagined.
It was low and deep.
The bus door opened, and he jumped out, leaving me wanting more. He looked back and looked down at my legs. He saw the dribble, and he smiled.
The doors closed, and the driver took off.
What the hell just happened?
He touched me!
He Touched Me (c) 2016 Sylvia Hubbard. All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced or copied in any form or by any means without written permission by the author.
NOTE TO READERS: We’ll start a live story of He Touched Me in March of 2020. Make sure you’re subscribed to this author’s blog and apart of her special SneakReader Brigade to get special discounts and freebies while reading. Click here for more information. https://wp.me/p8Zp8-o6x
Chapter Two| Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five
Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine |
Chapter Ten | Chapter Eleven |Chapter Twelve | Chapter Thirteen |
Chapter Fourteen | Chapter Fifteen | Chapter Sixteen|
Chapter Seventeen | Chapter Eighteen | Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty |
Companion Books

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Awesome short story!!
Thank you. I hope to do more
Wwooaaahhhh! Where can i read more?! Is there more to this story?!
At this time no. It was just a short story challenge.
Will you please send more books to Amazon? I need my favorite Author back Immediately! You were the first author I read on there when I got my kindle.
https://polldaddy.com/js/rating/rating.js
I’m uploading this weekend. Pass the word so more ppl will download me and I write more, work less
Wow this is good can’t wait to read chapter seven.
thank you I’m hoping to post late monday early tuesday