The Spice of Life (The Transformation #1) (4 page)

She remembered how, in the early days of their relationship, she had tried to get Paul to explore, sexually. She had fantasized about having him tie her up and forcefully explore her body with his mouth, so she bought a pair of fuzzy handcuffs. Paul had acted somehow offended, and ultimately had refused to use them. The handcuffs ended up gathering dust in a closet for years. Eventually, when they’d moved, Kelli had found them and ended up throwing them away. At that point, she didn’t want to be reminded of the sexual excitement she was missing.

Now for the photos.
Kelli opened up a few albums on her computer and selected a range of photos: one with her in a bikini, taken in Maui last year; another from a work conference in London, wearing a tailored suit; and a third photo with her smiling wide, and holding up her favorite drink: a dirty martini with bleu-cheese stuffed olives. That would do for now. She was poised to upload them, but hesitated.
Who knew who was out there?
What if someone she knew saw her?

On second thought, she decided to upload these photos to the secret photos area of the site. She added one photo that was taken from behind, as she walked along the beach at sunset. It didn’t show her face, but it did show off her long auburn hair, as well as her legs and her shapely ass.
Yes, that would do nicely.
For her public profile picture she finally chose a photo, cropping it into a body shot that showed her from the neck down in one of her favorite dresses, an emerald-green satin cocktail number. She was wearing her favorite necklace, a white-gold pendant with a sapphire.
Yes, that’s nice. Gives them a good taste.

With her profile complete, her finger hovered over the mouse, as she contemplated the “Submit” button on the profile. Was she ready?

What the hell,
she thought.
It’s not like I actually have to do anything. I’ll just see what happens.

She pressed send, shut down the computer, and went to bed.

The next morning, Kelli eagerly booted up the computer and loaded the website. She had expected to find one or two messages, so she was dumbfounded to see that her inbox contained sixty new emails.
Wow
, she thought.
I’m not alone?

She opened the first one. The subject line read, “Hi.”  The body of the email contained one line. The member profile showed that the guy was  6’2” and 280 lbs.

ur sexy. wanna chat?

Kelli winced, and hit “Delete”.  The next message had no subject line at all, and read:

Nice legs. If you are up for a hot time and a phat dick, hit me up. Five-oh-five seven two nine, 6 four one.

This did not bode well. As Kelli skimmed through the remainder of the messages, most contained photos; some very explicit, and she quickly weeded most of them out. There were two normal sounding emails, but the photos that the first sender included showed him with a beer gut, black leather jacket, and a scraggly goatee. The second guy didn’t have any profile photos at all, and sounded incredibly dull. Kelli sighed. Maybe this was just a bad idea. None of these people were even remotely suitable, and it was clear that the majority hadn’t even bothered to read her own profile.

She continued to check her mail throughout the day, and was amazed to find that the messages kept rolling in like clockwork. It seemed that each time she logged in, there were five or ten new emails. One of the messages had the subject heading “Check this out” and an attachment. Out of morbid curiosity, Kelli opened the attachment and was unwillingly rewarded for her efforts with a photo of a man’s naked, erect penis. She was not the slightest bit aroused by the sight of a stranger’s genitalia, but did find it intriguing. She cast a critical, curious eye over the phallus and noted the size and shape.
Meh. Kind of crooked. Big enough, I suppose, but who cares?
The man who sent it didn’t have a word to say for himself, so she didn’t even bother with a courtesy reply.

She began to feel very bored with the messages she was receiving and decided to browse on her own. Most of the profiles didn’t have photos so she skipped over those.
Not really fair
, she thought, given the fact that she herself chose not to post many photos, but still. She wanted to know what she was getting into. She couldn’t believe how bad some of the profiles were. Few men bothered to write much about themselves, and the photo selection was even more disappointing. There was the guy who said he was 45, but looked much closer to 65. There were a large number of photos where the man had snapped his own pic with a smart phone, showing a bare chest in the mirror from the neck down. Most were less than impressive. And there were the stoic guys who stared straight into the camera without cracking even a glimmer of a smile; these reminded her of prison mug-shots. She was almost amused.
Photos of you and your wife/girlfriend? Really? You and your cat is very disturbing.  You in a boat with a beer gut holding up a beer is NOT attractive, uggghhh. Nice cock, wish the rest of you was just as good.

There were a handful of handsome, attractive men, though. She found a few who caught her eye and read their profiles, but nothing really jumped out at her. It was all pretty generic.
What am I even looking for?
she wondered.
What would feel right?

This went on for a day or two, and then it came: midweek. She was nursing a cup of coffee and nibbling on some toast when she opened up her inbox. There was a message from a user she hadn’t seen before: EnjoyLifeNJ.  There was black and white photo of a man in a mask, with charcoal effect. She almost hit delete but stopped:

Hello there beautiful

This may come as a surprise to you, but I am writing to you without attaching a cock shot.  I couldn’t help but be drawn to what you wrote in describing yourself. You are right in what you said about creating change. I too, am seeking the most out of life. Life is for living.  I know that when I was younger I was naturally full of enthusiasm, passion, and adventure. Were you? How do we ever lose that? It doesn’t have to stay lost...I’ve been on a journey over the past few years and I can assure you that all the joy, all the juice, and all the fire in life is still there. We just need to reach out and take it.

I can help you find that again. I’ve learned some incredible lessons, and I’d like the opportunity to share these lessons. I’d like to teach you. You can wake up again...all it takes is the right touch to stir those coals that I sense are smoldering within you.

Will you meet me for a drink? La Dolce Vita in Soho is one of my favorite places to enjoy getting to know someone. How about Friday night?

PS. I enjoyed looking at your beautiful bust and necklace and I hope the rest of you is just as nice.

EnjoyLifeNJ

Kelli was intrigued. There was something in the tone of the message that caught her, hooked her. The juice, the joy, the fire... Yes. That resonated deeply. Until now, she had held back from communicating with anyone on the site, but this email called out for a response.

Hesitantly, feeling a thrill in her stomach, she clicked the reply button and began writing.

EnjoyLifeNJ ---

May I see your secret pics?

K.

Moments later, the reply came.

Dear K,

Here I reread your profile and thought you were into chemistry and passion.  I spent quite some time writing to you in hopes we can have a conversation. If you believe that sex is more mental than physical; if you want to respect my discretion as I haven’t asked for your secret pics; if you truly believe that you can find the spark again, and not just have a one-night stand, then please tell me about yourself. If you want to just look for any hot guy and hope he doesn’t use you, then please pass on….

J

Kelli was impressed.
Wow. That was direct and different. Ok, he is right.
She responded:

J,

You’re right; it did use to feel different. I feel like I’ve been lost at sea for a long time. The idea of recovering some sense of passion and adventure is very appealing to me.

Tell me a little more about this journey. How did it begin?

K.

The reply came within minutes.

K,

My journey began when I realized that life is too precious and too beautiful to spend being unhappy. So I stopped being unhappy. I started taking what I want.

You can stop being unhappy too. There are ways to be more alive than you’ve ever been.

Meet me at La Dolce Vita. No pressure, no strings. I would like to offer you your first lesson, that’s all. They have a great, lively, happy hour crowd on Thursday nights. Great mixer, great music, and a nice place to unwind.

J.

Kelli was torn. After thinking for a moment or two, she wrote:

You aren’t some sort of kinky pervert, are you?

The reply was almost immediate:

Kinky is a relative word, and without knowing what your sexual tastes are, I cannot say. What seems kinky the first time may be incredibly enjoyable the next.

J.

Meeting someone was obviously the next step in this process, but it meant that she was really serious about pursuing an affair. She decided not to reply right away. Better to think about it for a day or two.

Over the next 48 hours, Kelli kept playing out scenarios in her mind. In one version of events, she met up with this man and it ended in complete disaster. Paul would find out, the girls would never forgive her… her marriage and life as she knew it would be turned upside down and ruined. But in a second version, the one she kept returning to, it was very different. In this fantasy, she met EnjoyLifeNJ -- whatever his real name may be -- and embarked on a passionate, intense, satisfying affair. She imagined where they would meet...at hotels? His place? Certainly not hers. But in any case, he would gather her up and touch her, all over her body, fill her up. She felt a thrill of pleasure run between her legs at the thought. She needed satisfaction; her sexual frustration was becoming unbearable. The emptiness inside of her needed to experience raw masculinity, overpowering her, thrusting into her.

Eventually, the fantasy overcame her, and she found herself back in front of the computer, looking at her online profile.

Dear EnjoyLifeNJ,

I am intrigued with the idea of this lesson you offer to teach me. I need a teacher like that.

I would like to meet. First though, could you tell me your real name?

K.

PS. I’ve allowed you to have access to my secret pics. I think you’ll like what you see…let me know.

Kelli pressed send and waited. And waited. Four hours later, she was checking from her office at work in between client sessions. Still, no reply. Kelli was a little bit horrified at how obsessed she was becoming. Initially she had checked her mail every half an hour, but now she was checking at every possible opportunity.
C’mon
, she thought.
I made the leap. I said I would meet you...now where are you?