Standing in front of him, she strips down to her undergarments, the black garter belt, thigh high black stocking and a matching lace bra and panty set. She looks down; she still has her black stilettos on that she wore to work earlier. Ellie, brown haired, dark eyed, beautiful, incredibly sexy Ellie. Completely venerable, pleading desperately to convince her first love, the man who made love to her first, the man who’s heart she broke to continue out her life journey on her own, and the man who married another woman. Ellie, the hopefully, soon to be mistress, just for tonight.

She is staring at Clark from a distance; between the two of them is the wooden coffee table. Ellie is crossing her right arm over her body to keep some sort of composer in from on him, if she wasn’t, he would see that she was shaking for him, waiting and wanting him to make love to her one last time. Looking up through her lashes, she sees him lean forward on the couch, placing his elbows on his knees. She glances at his golden wedding band, and closes her eyes.

“Elle, I can’t. God,” he puts his head in his hands, “Why do you do this to yourself? I’m married: I have a wife, a wife who loves me, and cares for me, and is WAITING for me to come home to her.” He takes his head out of his hands, and instead fists them up and slams them on the table.
“God damn it Ellie! Why?! Why now?! Why all of a sudden do you want me back, you are the one who broke it up in the first place. I can’t believe I’m even here, sitting on a couch while my ex-girlfriend is half naked, begging me to have sex with her.” He gives off a slight chuckle as he shakes his head at her.

There is a long silence in the room as she thinks of something to say to this beautiful man who’s heart she broke years ago.

“Clark,” Ellie says softly, “I think if you didn’t want to, you might have left by now…..”She stares up at him through her lashes again. It’s true, isn’t it? As soon as she started to take her clothes off, he would have gotten up and left right?

She looks up and sees him staring at her, those cloudy blue eyes, filled with hate, and something else. “I wish I could tell you that you’re dead fucking wrong….but I can’t.” Clark shakes his head at her again. This man, almost 8 years ago was the same horny teenage boy who she fell so deeply in love with, she let him go for her own selfish desires, and yet, she still has the longing for him now. “You look even better than I remember,” all of the hate disappeared from him eyes, now there is just…blank. He shakes his head to clear his thoughts, realizing what he just said. “Do you realize what I’m saying right now? You know more than anyone I never wanted to be that type of guy Elle. I can’t Elle, I just can’t,”

He gets up quick, grabs his coat and starts heading for the door, “Clark, please, I- just stop please! Please I can’t do it without you any-” she sees him lunge at her; suddenly she’s slammed against the wall closest to the door.

“STOP!” Clark is clasping her hands above her head so she can’t gain any access to touch him, because if she even laid a finger on him, he knew he would give into her.