Xica's Love Stories

“My stranger’ came in around 9:30 AM. Monday through Friday, like clockwork. He wasn’t thin, nor was he big, he was thick and handsome, with blue eyes and dark brown hair. He did “justice” to a pair of Dockers’s slacks, which made you want to stop and watch him when he walked out of the coffee shop. At least that’s what my co-workers said. All I knew was, he made me feel better each time he came into the store

My depression had become more severe in the past couple years, and was the reason I had dropped out of my first year of law school.

After “my stranger,” had left each day, I would feel lifeless again. I would have to wait until the next day to see him again. I always made his coffee, just the way he liked it and I hated Fridays.

Even though my self-esteem was shot because I couldn‘t understand my depression, I realized I was intelligent. I had fudged my way through the first four years of college. Even when I hadn’t studied or attended classes, I was able to pass the course. But the first year of law school had been different. I hated my medication and without it, I couldn’t force myself to get up and attend class. And, I couldn’t guess the answers on the exams.

Finally, one Friday morning when “my stranger” came in, I got up the nerve to ask him if he lived in the area? He said “No.” He asked me if I knew of a good place to have dinner in the city? I told him about a couple of places, and he then asked if I would be amiable, to meeting him at 6 o’clock for dinner?

I hadn’t been on a date in two years, yet I was shocked when I heard myself say, “Yes.”

“My stranger,” left before I asked him his name.

Six o’clock couldn’t come fast enough. I changed my clothes at least four times, trying to decide what to wear. I finally decided on a short black dress with a pearl necklace and small diamond/pearl earrings to match. I selected a pair of black, high heel swing backs to make my legs look bigger. Because it was a warm night, I threw on a black silk shawl.

I caught a cab to the restaurant, and once there, waited in the bar area for “my stranger.”

While sitting at the bar, I was kicking myself for meeting a total stranger without even knowing his name. Surely he was somewhere with his buddies laughing at this stupid girl he had picked up at a coffee store!

At that moment there was a tap on my left shoulder.

I turned around and his smile made me feel alive again. Of course I tried to smile back. It was obvious, that we both were happy to see the other.

Dinner was unbelievable. He ordered the wine, asked me if I liked it and assured me if I didn’t he would order a different bottle. He was all about making me happy. He asked me what type of foods I liked and then proceeded to order for me.

His selection of wine and dinner was very much to my liking. He took his time with me, and was very deliberate in his communications with me. His eye contact made me feel a little uncomfortable at first, I felt as if he was seeing right through me.

After appetizers, I spoke about my depression and tried to move on to another subject when he insisted on talking more about my illness. I wouldn’t have mentioned my illness, but his friendly stare made me want to come clean.

As it turned out my stranger had a name and it was Jeffery Durum. His interest in my illness didn’t alert me to his background or his profession. Before the end of the meal he helped me understand why my medication made me feel lifeless and to ask my doctor to lower the dosage.

I never asked him what he did for a living. And since he already knew what I did for a living, his profession never really came up.

I dreaded when the meal was over, and wondered if I would ever see this gentle giant again. He must have been thinking the same thing, because he asked when would he see me again?

I was apprehensive because, he lived in another city, (400 miles away) and was only in town for a six week program at the University. He didn’t bothered to tell me that he was a medical doctor, who was a guest professor at the University for a short period of time.

Depression or no depression, I didn’t want my heart broken. How could I see him again, and then again, how could I not?

I responded to his question, with a question. “When are you available?”

He smiled and said, “As soon as you start taking your medicine.”

I laughed. But I had every intension of starting my medication when I got home. I already decided that I would cut the pill in half and see how that worked before asking my doctor to reduce the dosage.

“My stranger,” looked at me after he had paid the check and said, “I don’t want you to leave me, tonight.”

I looked back at him, fully aware of the implications, and replied, “Ok.”

We caught a taxi to one of the cities most expensive hotels, where Jeffery was staying. He tried to explain that the cost of the luxury hotel was being picked up by the University. I didn’t really care. I fully realized my stranger had money when he ordered a bottle of Bordeaux at dinner.

Yet his money wasn’t my first interest. I was spell-bound by how comfortable I felt around him. It was like I wasn’t even suffering from depression.

Once I had kicked off my shoes and begin to feel comfortable, Jeffery’s cell phone rung. He looked to see who it was and then headed to the bedroom to speak in private.

That’s when it hit me. I had never confirmed that he was single. I had though surely he was single, why else would he be dating? His conversation lasted about 10 minutes, which made me even more suspicious. I slipped my shoes back on as I realized that I needed to address the elephant in the room before continuing with the date.

Once Jeffery returned to the sitting room, he seemed refreshed and relaxed. He asked me if he could get me something from the bar. I hesitated.

“Jeffery, are you married?”

There was a cold silence for several seconds.

“Yes.” But it’s not what you think. “My spouse and I realized a long time ago that we couldn’t be everything to each other” I go my way she goes hers, and occasionally we meet in the middle.”

I was hurt and angry at the same time.

I stood up, grabbed my evening bag and headed for the door. “Wait, where are you going?” he asked with a surprised look on his face.

I replied, “Jeffery, I’m depressed, not stupid. Thank you for dinner. Good night.” And with that I headed out the door. He knew better then to chase me. He knew I was angry.

Once in a cab, I realized that I had forgotten my favorite silk shawl, but no way was I going back. I begin to think about what kind of night it might have been had Jeffery, not been married. As I sat in the back of the cab, my mind begin to fantasize. I felt silly yet, the thoughts of what might have been, were forceful. Finally, I gave in to my thoughts………….

I could feel him up against my body. He touched my body gentle, as he prepared me to become one with him. I could smell his cologne., and the coffee on his breath which he had order after dinner. It was only a fantasy, yet it was real in my mind.

After kissing my body and telling how beautiful I was, he gentle pulled my panties down, as he rolled onto me and kissed me softly. I could fell my heart against his heart. For a second they were beating as one.

He caressed me and held me close, as my resistance to him melted. He unbuckled his paints with one hand and held me tightly with the other. 

He positioned me so as to make a smooth transition.  I felt his manhood, I felt his body as he looked into my eyes.  He penetrated with gentleness and begin a rounding motion, which excited my very being ........

“Lady, lady,” the cab driver was almost screaming at me. My eyes were open, but I was in another world. I turned to see that I was in front of my apartment. I reached into my purse and gave the driver a twenty. Without waiting for change I managed to depart from the cab without finishing my fantasy.

As I turned the key to the front door of my apartment building, I realized that I had been spiritually raped. I had left “my strangers” hotel room, but he hadn’t really let me go, at least not mentally or emotionally, and I experienced him on a much higher level, although it wasn’t psychical.

Something within me made me know I would be ok. I felt better.

Still I had lingering feelings for “my stranger.” Once inside, my apartment, I kicked off my shoes for the second time that evening. I Googled: “Jeffery Durum.” To my surprise he was a world renowned psychiatrist who specialized in hypnosis for healing. There was a picture of “my stranger” and his wife at a charity event in Los Angeles.

I never saw “my stranger” again. He never returned to the coffee shop. I keep tabs on him by following his career online. I am on my medication, and back in law school. I work at the coffee store 3 day a week and I spend most of my time studying.

I often think about Jeffery. I wonder if he ever thinks about me?

The names have been changed to protect the privacy of the individuals involved.