Cheating Husbands and Wives - 18 Hot Short Stories (15 page)

"This time I wanted to please only you,”
 he whispered softly as he pulled my skirt back into position.  "As much as I would love to continue this, here or elsewhere, it is getting late and we both need to be up early tomorrow for work."

I was still sitting there in somewhat of a daze.
  Speechless, and glowing in the aftermath.

"Are you able to drive?" He asked as
 he smiled all-knowingly.  My legs are shaking in love's sweet aftermath and I felt like a limp noodle.  I could only nod my head in speechless wonder.   

"I'll call you," he whispered against my lips as
 he kissed me goodbye.  He shut my door softly, reached in and caressed my cheek, and then slowly walked back to his truck.  I watched as he started his truck.  He didn't drive away, and I realized that he was waiting for me to pull off before leaving.  I started my truck and waved back to him as I slowly drove away. 

The word "Married" didn't enter my mind once during our encounter.
  Not that night, nor any of the nights that we have shared since then.   And what I thought was the end was just the beginning.  It's been 3 months now, and there is so much more to be told.

It was a Tuesday afternoon, the worst day of the week if you ask me, and of course it was raining. As I walked out of my office building to whistle for a cab, the heel of one of my new Manolo Blanik’s split into two after I had stepped off the curb. “Damn it,” I whispered as I held back my curly brown hair to inspect the damage of my shoe. After dropping my briefcase on the sidewalk, I realized my broken heel had just landed me in a crater size pothole. Much huffing and puffing went on as I cursed this day in my head; like I said… I really hate Tuesdays.
I decided to stop and get a cup of coffee at a nearby café. As I limped into the tiny shop, the aroma of cakes, cookies, and coffee filled my senses. It seemed to calm me down, because after I found a small square table to sit down at, I had forgotten all about my broken shoe and wet stockings. Before ordering I went through my briefcase to check that I had grabbed the depositions for tomorrow’s court case off of my desk. Without realizing it, my waitress had been standing in front of me with a large caramel latte, slice of carrot cake, and a gingerbread cookie. “Here you go, Mrs. Heart.” I thought for a second. “I didn’t order anything yet Lacey,” I said. After coming to this café for over three years I knew every waitress, waiter, and manager’s name, address, and phone number by heart; that’s what I love about small businesses. “The gentleman over at table three asked me to bring this over.” Lacey smiled. I giggled a bit, like an immature schoolgirl and said, “How did he know this was my favorite combo? And did you tell him that I’ve been happily married for over five years?” Lacey glanced over at the gentleman who was sipping his coffee in silence and reading the Wall Street Journal. “He asked me what you fancied so I told him, and no, I forgot to mention you were married.”
“Are married,” I corrected her. Lacey just smiled sweetly and strolled back to her post at the register. After brushing off the polite gesture of buying me lunch, I decided to go over and thank the man for his generous offer.
I stood up and walked over to the very brawny, brown-haired man who greeted my presence with a nod of his cowboy hat. “Good afternoon, ma'am,” he spoke kindly while removing his hat. At first I was ready to reject his offer for my meal, but the sparkle in his bright green eyes and the sincerity in his southern accent caught me off guard by a mile.
“Good afternoon sir,” I stuttered slightly. “I came over to thank you for offering to buy me lunch.”
He smiled and knew what I was plotting. “It certainly isn’t an offer, it is my gift to you miss.” His forwardness made me uncomfortable at first, but it was more genuine than forceful.
“I greatly appreciate it, but I’m married and I don’t want to lead you on…”
Before I was able to finish he cut me off and said, “Of course a gorgeous woman like you is married, but can’t a gentleman extend his appreciation for such a beautiful woman by offering her lunch?” I blushed right on cue, and he definitely noticed.
“I guess there’s nothing wrong with that, let me make it up to you by paying for your meal.”
He extended his strong hand, “That won’t be necessary, but it was a pleasure buying lunch for you.” He smiled once more while placing his cowboy hat on his head, walked up to Lacey, and paid for both of our meals. I just stood there dumbfounded as he smoothly and confidently walked out of the café, giving me one last nod with his cowboy hat. I heard Lacey chuckle behind the counter as I returned to my table.
“He’s been in here for the past two days. I think he finally found what he’s been looking for,” Lacey grinned. I ignored Lacey comment because she was well aware of my martial status and I was never one to break promises, especially something as precious as my wedding vows.
I finished my lunch, packed up my things, and strolled out of the café like nothing had ever happened. Although I still felt the warm embrace of the gentleman’s hand, I couldn’t help but feel guilty for not returning the favor of him buying me lunch.
The next day I decided to visit the café again in hopes of seeing the southern gentleman. I kissed my husband on the cheek as I grabbed my briefcase and headed off to work. For some strange reason I had a hard time sorting through my cases and reading over depositions. The scent of carrot cake, chocolate chip cookies, and worst, but of course best scent of all, the southern gentleman’s cologne kept me from working. Or maybe it wasn’t cologne at all, something about him smelled fresh and unfamiliar, kind of like the fresh scent of the outdoors on a nice sunny warm day. I shook my head a couple of times to stop these ridiculous thoughts from surfacing, because of course they were ridiculous. It was rough, but I was able to make it to lunch without having anymore absurd thoughts about my plans to stop by the café in hopes to bump into the gentleman.
It was around one o’clock and as soon as I stepped into the café the southern gentleman winked and nodded at my arrival. “Good afternoon ma'am,” he smiled before picking his newspaper back up. I nodded back and smiled as I took a seat across the room from where he was seated.
“Back again Mrs. Heart?” Lacey asked. “I’ve never seen you come in here two days in a row, something new interest you?”
I took the menu from Lacey and looked through the desserts. “I’ll have the strawberry cheesecake with almonds, thank you Lacey,” I smiled.
She whisked away to fetch my order and as soon as my I took my eyes off of her, I noticed the southern gentleman was no longer in the café. I looked outside the glass windows from my seat and he was nowhere within the vicinity. I was going to get up and go after him but then I thought to myself, “You’re married, happily married, what are you doing?” The question I should have asked myself was, “What was I feeling,” because at the moment I felt a warm, unfamiliar sensation between my legs and I could feel pressure building up below.
Instead of taking a cab I decided to walk back to my apartment after work. A lot of different emotions were flooding my mind and I needed a nice slow walk back to my apartment to release some of this tension. Once I got home I threw my things down on the living room sofa and proceeded to undress myself in my large bedroom. Greg, my husband, was still at work, and like most nights he was working late; this is your life if you marry a doctor.
I spent many years of this marriage alone in our apartment, and too much time alone in our bed. Our sex life had almost become nonexistent, and I remembered our first year of marriage where we would make love at least once a night. The thought of this made me angry, not sad. I was still young, twenty-six to be exact, and I’m a woman who needs to be held every once in a while, and even a hug would do it for me now.
After dealing with the frustration of being home alone, I stripped down to my naked skin and stepped into the bath as the water and vanilla scented bubbles started to fill up the large ivory porcelain tub. I tilted my head back and almost in an instant felt that same tingle sensation down below as I did at the café. I wanted to reach down and help the sensation along, but I knew my hand wasn’t the hand I wanted touching me. After closing my eyes, I thought about his green eyes, manly but gentle voice, and muscular but delicate hand. My womanhood swelled as I replayed our meeting in my head. I felt a bit immature fantasying about a man I barely knew, but that made the experience all the more exciting. I imagined his hands running up my creamy smooth legs and his soft parted lips caressing the side of my neck; one of my weak spots.
“Faith, honey are you home?”
Startled, I sat up in the tub and grabbed a large towel off the towel rack. “I’m in the bathroom, I’ll be out in a second,” I yelled to Greg. I heard his heavy footsteps approach the bathroom so I quickly unlocked the door and wrapped the towel around my body.
“Don’t you smell sweet,” Greg smirked as he rested his body against the inside of the doorframe. “What’s the special occasion?”
I blushed, “Oh nothing. I never get a chance to relax so I decided to take a bath.”
The concerned look on his face told me he wanted to ask me what was wrong, but after a long day of work I knew he wasn’t in the mood to talk about my problems.
“Alright, well I’m going to bed. Goodnight,” he whispered into my ear while slightly planting a kiss on my temple.
I wished he would’ve shown me a bit more attention at that moment, but my husband wasn’t always the most romantic or spontaneous type of guy. My thoughts turned back to the southern gentleman; what would he have done in this situation? I could only imagine.
The next day for lunch instead of going to the café I decided to walk to the park since it was a lovely sunny day outside. After finding a comfortable bench to sit down on, I took out my tomato and rye sandwich and began to take small bites out of it. I watched small children and their mothers play on the swings and jungle gym. I also watched many joggers and dog walkers fly past me as the day seemed to go by quickly, but it had no affect on me. I looked down at my watch and saw that it was almost time to go back to work so I threw my sandwich away and exited the park. As I walked through the large gate of the park entrance, a beautiful golden retriever pranced up to me as its owner lowered his hat and pick up the dog’s leash.
“Afternoon ma’am,” the man grinned as he tied his dog back up to the leash.
His tall and muscular physique stood out of the crowd and in an instant I felt my whole body grow warm by his presents.
“Hello, how are you?” I asked.
“Not too bad. How about yourself? I see you skipped lunch in the café today.”
“It was such a great day that I didn’t want to have lunch inside,” I smiled and giggled, like an idiot.
“Yeah, that’s the reason why I’m here now, walking Jericho,” he said while rubbing the back of the dog’s ears.
He looked so enticing as he kneeled down on the fresh cut grass and played with the golden retriever. I stood there and admired his broad-shoulders and brawny biceps. He definitely had a naturally cut body, but the extra muscle that I could see from under his flannel shirt gave me the impression that he worked hard for his body, very hard.
After a few seconds of my drooling over this man he looked up at me and said, “By the way, my name’s Grayson, Carter Grayson from North Carolina.”
He reached out his hand and I took it in mine, “Faith, Faith Heart.” At this he smiled; we finally knew each other’s names.
“So are you on your way back to work?” he asked.
I looked down at my watch, “Actually, I was supposed to be there ten minutes ago.”
He got up and held the leash of his dog firmly in his hand. “Would it be to forward to ask if Jericho and I could walk you back to work? I mean it is our fault that you’re late, Mrs. Heart,” he said, flashing me the most handsome smile I’ve ever seen.
“Um, sure, that would be fine,” I nodded in nervous approval.
So he tugged on Jericho’s leash and in no time I was standing in front of my office building with Mr. Grayson and his dog.
“Well, here’s your stop,” Mr. Grayson pointed out.
I looked up at the ten story building in front of me and prayed to God that someone would pull the fire alarm, giving me more time with Mr. Grayson.
“Yeah I guess this is it,” I frowned, “Wait…”
“What is it?” he asked.
I searched around in my briefcase. “I left a stack of my papers in the park, important papers.”
“Maybe it’s still there, we can walk you back. It would be no trouble at all.”
Inside I was grinning devilishly at my careless mistake. I would normally run back to the park shirking in terror because I know my boss would have my head if I left something that important lying on the muddy park ground. Yet…something in me, snapped…and I suddenly wasn’t feeling like myself.
“You know what? To hell with work. I’ve been working so much lately I haven’t had any fun lately. So what do you say Mr. Grayson? Do you fancy a walk in the park with me?”
I could tell he was surprised by my question by the blank expression on his face. He picked his cowboy hat off his hair and scratched his head for a moment.
“Well if you could excuse me for being forward once again Mrs. Heart, I’d like to take you back to my apartment. I only live a couple blocks away and plus there’s something I want to give you,” he asked sincerely.
Now I was the one with the blank expression. I must have looked like he just shot me right there on the sidewalk because I know he didn’t just invite me to his apartment.
“Give me, huh? Ok well let’s go then,” I said, feeling a bit adventurous.
For some reason while walking with this stranger I felt safe and comfortable. The old me would have maced the poor guy before he was able to say, “I’d like to…”
After a few blocks we arrived at an old brick-faced building with vines growing all the way up to the fifth floor. Once we stepped inside he turned to the first apartment on the left and a man answered the door and took Jericho.
“He’s not mine, I just walk him for the exercise,” he smiled sweetly.
We began walking again, this time up four flights of stairs. After the first floor Mr. Grayson took my hand without saying a word and without looking down at me. I was both nervous and excited about what this man had in store for me, but I trusted him so I just kept walking.
“Here we are,” he mumbled.
I walked in behind him and was amazed by the country style setting he had going on in his apartment. The vibrant reds, greens, yellows, and blues made you feel like you were standing in the middle of a pasture; it definitely wasn’t your typical New York City studio apartment.
“Close your eyes,” he said while walking out of the living room and into his kitchen.
I closed my eyes and when he returned I smelt the warm and sweet smell of carrot cake. He was holding a carrot cake right in front of my nose, “Want a piece? I baked it myself.”