Nympho

"So?"

"So what?"

"How was it, how was your date?"

"It was...nice."

"Nice? Fine! How was the sex after the date?"

"How do you know we even had sex?"

"Well, she is a nymph, right? The whole nymphomania term sort of came from them, right?"

"Perhaps the nymphomania is a myth?"

"Was it?"

I blush in spite myself.

"See! I knew it! It was crazy fantastic, right? The sex I mean."

"I wouldn't say that."

"You going to see her again?"

"No, never again."

"But she was so pretty, with a crazy hot smile."

"She was and is. But, there is more to a relationship than that."

The conversation died there and after enough time of awkward silence, I watched my best friend leave. Left with my thoughts, they all drift back to her, and how she still haunted me.

The sex was inevitable. She pushed and pulled pleasure from me in ways I could never even imagine before. Now the experience haunted me. I craved her deeply. Her last words though, they haunt me even more.

"Mmmmm. You were amazing, sweet. I would have enjoyed doing this again."

"You make it sound like we can't."

"We can't. Your touch was too perfect, your seed already took hold. I am to have your child. My greatest honor. As is custom with nymphs, I must raise her alone. I hope she has your sweet eyes though."

For the rest of my days, I will wonder if my daughter will.