Just For A Moment Novels & Stories

I watched as Ethan and Liam were playing when I heard the zipper of his trousers open, I stared at them again, and as if they knew they should be somewhere else, I watched as they ran upstairs But one mistake, we could get stuck in the moment, they could walk in and we won’t even realise it until it’s too late. Fuck. “Let go Bella, just be in the moment.” “How did you know they would leave soon?” “I just know.” He whispered. He wrapped his hand around me, pulling me closer to him when I felt the tip of his cock lining up against my clit. “Fuck.”

Not as protection. As grounding. And for the first time in days— I let myself stop bracing for impact. Just for a moment. Just enough to breathe.

"Just a few more minutes?" And in that moment, I realized we didn't need grand declarations. What we were building spoke for itself. "Just a few more minutes," I agreed.

At that instant, I paid a deaf ear to the rules or how absurd it was and just let myself get lost in the moment. I wasn't sure if it felt right. All that matters now was just this moment.

I looked away for a second before adding, “And it’s just my eggs, not my life. You’ve added colour to my life these past few weeks. Take it as a thank-you gift.” For the first time since I met him, he was blank and still. The berry in his hand slipped and dropped onto the mat, but he didn’t even notice. It took a while before he finally reacted. He ran his hand through his hair. Opened his mouth and closed it again. Then let out a short breath. “I think you’re just living in the moment,” he said slowly. “And as much as I’d like to jump into this.” He paused, studying my face.

He said: "You are going to feel like you are going to fall. You are not going to fall. But it feels like falling for a moment and you have to trust that it is not." She said: "And then." He said: "And then it is not falling." She said: "How long does the moment last." He said: "Less than a second." She said: "And then I am there." He said: "And then you are there." She said: "Tomorrow." He said: "Yes." She went inside. She told Maren about the approaching shift that afternoon. Maren said: "I am going to need to document this." She said: "I know."

I know I'll keep on saying this, that moments come and moments go, only this time, my moment is right now and it's only the beginning of me living. The End.

And then he paused. Not dramatically. Not visibly enough for most of the hall to register it as a pause rather than simply the natural rhythm of the gesture. A fraction of a second. The smallest hesitation in a movement that should have been automatic, that should have been pure muscle memory after weeks of knowing this moment was coming. His eyes moved.

I’m so lucky to experience this moment. As the music reaches its crescendo, so does the tension between us. Our movements become more urgent, more fervent, as if we're trying to capture the essence of this fleeting moment before it slips away. And then, in a final, breathtaking dip, the tension breaks, and a knowing smile passes between us.

I need to not focus on what ifs and the future right now, I have to live in the here and now. Before we know it, I was getting called to stage. It’s now or never. It’s time to give the performance of my life. Jen was on the stage already making my introduction. When the audience started clapping, I walked on stage just as Jen was walking off, she embraced me in a hug and quietly whispered in my ear good luck. I walk over to the piano that has been pushed to center stage and take a seat on the bench. When I sat, I adjusted the mic to where it felt comfortable for me, and I spoke into the mic, “I hope y’all are having a fantastic time tonight,” the audience claps with appreciation as I continu