The Ghostwriter's Words

The Professor: Hello, It's Me

It was nearly fifteen years since that evening the Professor found himself standing in front of an unfamiliar door. He'd been unsure for a moment what led his feet there before he'd remembered and knocked, hesitantly, too softly at first. He'd been nervous. For most of the past five years before that moment, the memories that had drawn him there had remained subconscious, only periodically bubbling to the surface. But recently, he hadn't been able to stop thinking about her and must have looked up her address. He'd stood with his arm extended, uncertain whether to knock again, when the door swung open.

"Hello, it's me," he'd said, then realized how lame that sounded and added, "It's my birthday. I'm alone." Not only lame, pathetic.

"I can see that," the woman in the doorway answered, "That it is you, at least. And you're alone. Are you drunk?"

"A little, maybe."

"Hmmm... maybe. Since it is your birthday, I'd feel bad slamming the door in your face, and I don't want the neighbors telling my fiancé about me standing in the doorway in a robe and pajamas, talking to some strange man."

"You could take off your robe."

She'd laughed and told him, "Haven't changed much, I see. In fact, it doesn't look as if you've changed at all."

She was a stunning woman. She reminded him quite a lot of Sara. A coincidence, along with the fact that her name was also Sara. His attraction to this Sara wasn't a substitution for the other, who he could never have, at least not for himself alone. No, this Sara was a very different person, in a similar, if not identical, package. He'd immediately noticed that she had aged a little, not a bad thing at all, and now appeared to be a few years older than the other Sara. Which the Professor also knew was a long way from reality. Although, he couldn't have said exactly what he found so different about this Sara. Both were wild, uninhibited, and fun, in bed and out, based on the much more limited time the Professor had spent, in and out of bed, with this Sara standing in front of him. But the time he'd spent with the first had taken place over nearly four centuries, and even the briefest occasional encounters added up after a while. He'd likely had sex more often with the first Sara and spent more time doing it than most married couples accumulated throughout a normal human lifetime. Then Sara, the first Sara, had been around far longer than a normal human lifetime. This Sara, standing in the doorway, was still quite young in comparison. Still, five years past what had been his preferential expiration date, he hadn't expected that he'd ever see her again. But there he was.

Sara, the second Sara, finally stepped aside and told him, "Come in. The neighbors are probably already messaging my fiancé. Having nothing better to do."

The Professor hesitated, nervously looking around the room as he crossed the threshold.

Noticing, Sara assured him, "He's not here. He's away on business, or I wouldn't be inviting you in."

"Are you sure this is okay?" he'd asked.

She'd smiled and allowed her robe to slip to the floor with a wink. She'd lied about the pajamas. "As a matter of fact. I'm sure the bastard is with some other woman as we speak. So, let's get you out of those clothes so I can wish you a proper happy birthday, then we can go upstairs, and you won't have to be alone tonight. I've thought about you, you know. And I hope more than just your appearance hasn't changed."

"Why is that?" the Professor asked, his heart beating hard as she unfastened his trousers. He hadn't felt as excited in - he couldn't remember, but he hoped he wouldn't have a heart attack and die on his thousandth birthday. But, then again, if he was going to go...?

"Mmmm..." the second Sara had hummed, taking him into her mouth, then looked up and paused to answer his question. "I remember your talent for reciprocity, so I consider this an investment in my future."

In all his many years, exactly one thousand of them that evening, he couldn't remember another occasion that he'd felt the sensation of a woman laughing while she'd sucked his cock, and it took only a few seconds before he'd cried out, "Oh, my God! Sara!" Catching himself, he'd held his breath a moment before exhaling with relief. He hadn't called out the wrong name. It was a coincidence.