A huge thanks to SckMyFck for editing this.
This is my first attempt at anything in the BDSM genre and it's a long one (38,000 words). You might want to skip this if you're looking for a short, straight to the action type of story.
*****
Chapter 1 – People Change.
Jen sat at the kitchen table with a visibly disgusted look on her face. Her contempt had been a long time in the making. Seventeen years in fact. Something happened to her husband after their third year of marriage. He suddenly seemed to stop giving a shit about everything in his life, but most noticeably, he stopped caring about his appearance. Tom was a handsome, fit guy when they first started dating. He had a thick head of brown hair, muscles everywhere, and a very low body fat percentage to match. The twenty-five-year-old stud had stamina for days and could get Jen going just by taking his shirt off, but things slowly began to change. His healthy diet was replaced by fast food, his gym routine was ousted by video games and hours of watching TV, and his sexy five o'clock shadow was swapped out for a rough, ragged looking beard. His thick hair was now thin and straggly. Sure, some things weren't under his control. People's hair thinned as they aged and Jen couldn't fault him for that, but it was a combination of everything. This current forty-seven-year-old version of her husband didn't even slightly resemble the twenty-five-year-old man she fell in love with.
Crunch...crunch...crunch...
God, it was so gross. The way he ate drove her insane. His mouth was always open and it felt like a lack of common courtesy to her. Nobody wants to hear you chew your food! Close your goddamn mouth! She just wanted to scream!
Crunch...crunch...crunch...
Cereal. Why was he eating cereal? She showed him how to make smoothies in her blender years ago. All the ingredients were in the refrigerator and they were so easy to make. Kale, tomatoes, celery, throw in some fruit, add a little water, and blend it all up. It was a perfectly healthy, nutritious breakfast. But no, Tom was eating junk food cereal which he specifically bought for himself, just like he did every morning.
Crunch...crunch...crunch...
It was like he was chewing that loud on purpose just to bug her. And...oh my God! He had milk in his already gross, repulsive looking beard! She turned her attention to her coffee on the table to hide her disgust. She never would've imagined this being her husband two decades ago.
Tom had a job in construction. He didn't make a lot of money but money was never important to Jen. She valued personality, loyalty, and how a man could make her feel over finances. And Tom had all those things in the beginning. He was responsible, enjoyable to talk to, and his body could make her melt just by looking at it. He never was the most fun or creative guy in the world, but he was the most mature and loyal of her post-college boyfriends. She knew his looks wouldn't necessarily stay the same twenty years down the road, but she hadn't expected his personality to change the way it had. He just wasn't enjoyable to be around anymore. He never made time to talk or ask about her day, he put off real responsibilities for selfish pleasures, and he spent his days glued to his phone or playing Xbox in the basement. Even now as he ate his cereal, his left hand was busy playing with his iPhone on the oak kitchen table. Twenty years ago they would've at least been having a conversation over breakfast. Now, they weren't even looking at each other.
"Hey, Mom."
The brunette mother didn't have a problem being the family's primary breadwinner. She was an RN and made close to double her husband's salary. There wasn't any resentment or loss of respect over their financial differences. She had friends who had issues with their own careers outearning their husbands but Jen never looked at it as 'her money' or 'his money.' She saw it as 'their money.' They were a team. The entire point of a marriage was to help each other out, but Tom wasn't doing that. There was no sex, no stimulation, and nothing he did caused her to want to be in his presence.
"Hey, Mom!"
Jen loved giving head and she loved to please, but this man caused her to be disgusted by the idea of sticking his dick in her mouth. Where to start? There was his disgusting beer belly, his lack of grooming downstairs, and that awful, winded sucking sound he made whenever they attempted something sexual. He had such incredibly low stamina that receiving a blowjob was exhausting for him. And his borderline nonexistent sex drive made those encounters few and far between. But, the most bizarre part of it all was she still tried. She still attempted to give him oral sex because she wanted to please him, but it was like he wasn't interested.
The forty-four-year-old mother of one didn't look like she did in college, but she worked hard to keep herself together. She had toned legs, a slim figure, and an impressive bust to boot. She was proud of her appearance. Healthy eating, a solid gym going habit, and lots of hiking and yoga was her lifestyle. She was very fit and noticed plenty of guys checking her out wherever she went. This especially occurred at the gym. Younger guys, older guys, married men, single players...it didn't matter. They all made time to at least look at her, or to go out of their way to talk to her. It had grown to the point where she felt embarrassed to be seen in public with her husband. Not like that was a major problem. Tom would never leave the house if it was up to him.
"Mom!"
Jen turned her head to the left to see her eighteen-year-old daughter sitting down at the table with a meal replacement bar in hand.
"Oh, hey, honey," Jen smiled.
Ashley curiously observed her mother while unwrapping her breakfast. "What's going on with you?"
"Nothing," she smiled again. "Just thinking..."
"Dad," Ashley said as she acknowledged her father.
"Hey," Tom responded with his eyes still glued down on his phone.
Just like her mother, Ashley had long brown hair and striking brown eyes. She was quite the looker and received her fair share of attention from the boys at her high school. She had a very close relationship with her mom. It was more of a best friends type of vibe than one of a typical mother-daughter rapport. She had to go to her for her problems and needs since Dad didn't seem to take too much of an interest in her personal life, but that was how guys were she guessed. Maybe things would've been different if she was a boy. She really didn't have too much in common with her father, but she didn't allow that to bother her the way she had in the past.
"My soccer game is at five," Ashley announced. "You guys are coming, right?"
"I'll be there," Jen nodded.
Tom continued to play with his phone. "Me too."
"Okay, cool," the brunette teen smiled. "I'm gonna get going to school. See ya later!"
"Have a good day, sweetheart!" Jen told her daughter as she watched her walk away.
Tom raised his hand in the air and gave a quick wave, once again not moving his eyes from his phone.
...
...
"Mom! Come here!"
Jen left her seat and scurried toward her daughter's voice. The front door was open and Ashley was standing out on the concrete pathway. "What is it?"
The teen pointed next door.
"Holy shit," Jen laughed. "Wow, they actually sold it."
"Didn't you say it would be for sale forever?" her daughter asked. "That it was way overpriced?"
Jen nodded. "I thought it would be. I wonder if they got the asking price."
Their neighbors had put their house up for sale fourteen months ago. Even in this super hot seller's real estate market, Jen couldn't believe how much they were asking. And to be honest, she really didn't want them to move. The Tappins were perfect neighbors. They were an older couple who mostly kept to themselves. There was no noise, no disturbances, and they were extremely nice whenever they encountered one another. Part of her dreaded their potential new neighbors. Screaming kids, loud music, or constant partying. She was positive about one thing. And that was whoever was moving in, they weren't going to be as great as the Tappins.
"Who do you think is moving in?" the teen asked.
"No idea," she answered.
"Hopefully someone cute," Ashley smirked.
Jen rolled her eyes. "Is your boyfriend aware of your boy crazy ways?"
"Hey," Ashley grinned, "there's nothing wrong with looking."
"There certainly isn't," Jen agreed. She wouldn't mind having some eye candy around. She definitely didn't have anything to look at in her house. Maybe some cute high school boy wouldn't be the world's worst neighbor.
"Oh my God!" her daughter stated dramatically. "What if Ryan Gosling moved in?"
Jen burst out into laughter. "What?"
"How awesome would that be?" Ashley smiled while continuing to stare at their neighbor's house.
"What would Ryan Gosling be doing buying a house in upstate New York?"
"I don't know," Ashley answered, "maybe he likes the mountains and the wilderness. Or maybe he's in love with me..."
Jen laughed.
"...and he needs to be in my presence so he bought the house next door. And we're going to start dating, and fall in love, and we're going to get married..."
"Quite the imagination there, kiddo," the older brunette laughed.
"Hey, a girl can dream..." Ashley smirked. "Okay, so if Ryan Gosling moves in next door, I have permission to date him, right?"
She nodded with a slight smirk. "Yeah, I think I'll take my chances with that one..."
"So, who's your guy?"
Jen raised her eyebrows. "What?"
"You have one guy to be able to do anything with if he moves in next door," Ashley told her. "Who's it gonna be?"
She debated with herself for a moment. "Pierce Brosnan."
Ashley furrowed her brow. "Who?"
"Who!?" Jen surprisingly asked. "Are you serious?"
"Never heard of him," the teen told her mother. "Is he an actor or something?"
"Oh my God..." Jen groaned as she reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone. "He was super popular in the 90's."
"Jesus..." Ashley laughed. "What is he like, sixty?"
"Sixty-four. Here," she told her while holding out her phone.
"Woah!" Ashley smiled as she peered at the screen. "Yeah...I'd get some of that..."
"Oh my God!" Jen laughed. "You'd get some of that?"
"Absolutely..." she purred. "He was James Bond?"
The mom nodded. "Yep. He was the best one too."
"Oh yeah," Ashley told her as she continued to scroll through the pictures with her finger, "I'm all over that. Oh wait, I'm sorry, I'm sorry...I forgot, he's yours. I get Ryan Gosling and you get Pierce Brosnan. Deal?" she asked with her hand extended.
Jen smirked as she accepted her daughter's handshake. "You got yourself deal."
"Alright, I gotta get going. I'll see you at my game later."
"Have a good day, baby!" Jen shouted while watching Ashley hustle to her car. She turned back to her neighbor's house and grinned. Ryan Gosling, Pierce Brosnan, or just someone who gave the slightest of shits about their personal appearance would be a godsend at this point. She had no intentions of cheating, but her daughter was right. There's nothing wrong with looking.
Chapter 2 – Meet the New Neighbor.
Forty-two days later. October 27th. 5:43 PM.
Jen was enjoying a novel on her Kindle while she relaxed on the swing in the backyard. She felt an urge to enjoy every second of the remaining fall weather before an early winter storm rolled through next week. The forecasters were already calling for six to eight inches of snow and it wasn't even November! But it was sixty-two degrees out today, she had on a pair of black yoga pants and a purple tank top, and the entire backyard was hers. That wasn't much of a surprise though. Tom ran downstairs after work to play some new video game he bought on the way home. Her contempt for him had been growing by the day for the last decade, but it'd become exponentially worse over the past week. She'd tried hard to look for redeeming qualities in him over the past month but she just couldn't find any. In fact, she found herself becoming jealous of her friend's relationships. Sure, some of them were with assholes, but at least they had their shit together. The idea of Tom being an in-shape asshole with a high sex drive had become a fantasy. Hell, she didn't even need him to be in good shape at this point. She would kill to watch the sliding glass door open to the backyard, see him waddle in her direction, feel him grab a handful of her hair, and drag her into the bedroom for a long overdue pounding. She wasn't even asking to be seduced or talked to. She just needed to be fucked properly. And as disgusting as her husband was to her physically, she would be more than willing to let him have his way with her if it resulted in some great sex. She desperately needed it.
The sliding glass door opened.
It certainly wasn't her dream guy. It was Ashley.
"Mom!"
"Hey," Jen said as she peeked up from her tablet.
The teen pointed over at their neighbor's house. "Movers are here!"
Jen stood up with a smirk and followed her daughter into the house, through the kitchen and living room, and out the front door. There she saw a moving truck with what appeared to be college-aged boys unloading furniture and boxes.
"Did you get a look at anyone?" Jen asked.
Ashley shook her head. "Just the guys from the moving place. There's a black BMW parked in the street though."
Jen attempted to look but couldn't see anything.
"The trucks blocking your view," Ashley told her. "You know who would drive a BMW though? I'll give you a hint. His name starts with an R."
She shook her head. "I'll tell you what. I'll buy you a BMW if Ryan Gosling is our neighbor..."
"Me and Ryan..." the brunette teen smirked, "cruisin' in my BMW..."
Jen shyly glanced down as she noticed one of the twenty-something-year-old guys smile at them before jumping into the moving truck to retrieve another box.
"I think that one was for you," Ashley teased her mom. "You want me to introduce you?"
Jen rolled her eyes.
"That's all!" one of the movers shouted. Minutes later, several men piled into the moving truck while three others loaded themselves into a car which was parked behind the black BMV in the street.
"Come on," Jen told her daughter, "let's go say hi."
The two girls walked over the grass and onto their neighbor's driveway before journeying the pathway which led to the front door. Before Jen could reach out to ring the doorbell, her daughter turned and caught her attention. "Should we have brought something? Like a housewarming gift or food?"
"Shit..." Jen groaned. "Umm...maybe...ah, it's too late now. I'll make cookies or something tomorrow."
The door suddenly opened before either girl could reach for the doorbell. A man was standing in front of them with a curious look on his face. "Hi."
"Hell...hello," Ashley smiled. "We came over to say hi."
Their new neighbor continued to give them an inquisitive look.
"We...we live next door," Jen told him, pointing at the house to the right. She couldn't believe she felt nervous. It wasn't from meeting their new neighbor. That wasn't a big deal. It was his appearance that was making her giddy. The mystery man's brown hair was styled in falling quiff cut, his face was chiseled and defined with the start of a five o'clock shadow, and his blue eyes were striking. Jen felt her daughter reach out and lightly elbow her and she knew exactly what Ashley was referring to. Their new neighbor had a striking resemblance to a forty-something-year-old Pierce Brosnan.
"Oh, hey, neighbors. I'm Ryan."
Ashley turned to her mother and smiled. Jen shot her a quick grin back before looking straight-ahead at their strikingly handsome neighbor once again.
"I'm Jen," the mom introduced herself, "and this is my daughter, Ashley. We just wanted to come over and say hi."
Ryan smiled at the two girls. "Well, it's nice to meet you both. Fortunately, I'm off from work for the next few days so I have some time to sort this stuff out," he told them as he stepped aside to reveal dozens of large boxes behind him in a mostly empty living room.
"What do you do for work?" Jen asked.
"I'm a financial adviser," he answered in a deep, captivating voice, "but the real question is, what do you do for work?" he asked as he turned his attention to Ashley.
"Me?" the teen asked.
He nodded.
"On the weekends I sometimes work at my friend's mom's dog grooming business, but I don't have a lot of time with school, and soccer, and stuff."
"You want to make some money?" the new neighbor asked.
"Umm...yeah. How?"
Ryan pointed at the stacks of boxes behind him. "I could use some help unpacking."
"Totally," Ashley smiled before looking at her mom. "Is that okay?"
"Yeah...I don't see why not," Jen answered. "Now?"
Ryan nodded again.
"Let's get started!" Ashley smiled before squeezing past their new neighbor and letting herself into his house.
Five hours later...
Jen was lying on the couch with her Kindle, compulsively checking her phone for the hundredth time. She'd texted her daughter every thirty minutes to make sure everything was okay. Jen was too trusting at times. Sure, this new guy seemed nice, but she didn't know anything about him. And while Ashley had immediately responded to every one of her texts, five hours had gone by. Maybe she needed to go over and check on the two of them.
She suddenly heard the front door open.
"Hey, Mom!" Ashley greeted her mother with a big smile as she strolled into the living room. "Guess how much I made?"
"How much?"
"Two hundred dollars!" she smiled as she held up two crisp one hundred dollar bills.
"Two hundred dollars!" Jen shouted. "Are you serious? Jeez, I should've offered to help."
Ashley took a seat in the recliner next to the couch her mother was lying on. "And can we talk about our new neighbor for a second?"
Jen sat up with a smirk before looking at her daughter. Tom had gone to sleep almost an hour ago so there wasn't any need to keep their voices down. Playing video games for four straight hours was quite the exhausting lifestyle after all. Sometimes she wondered if she was married to a forty-seven-year-old man or one of her daughter's boyfriends. Well, at least her daughter's boyfriends would be giving her the proper sexual attention. She opened her mouth to say something but Ashley quickly cut her off.
"Oh my fuckin' God!"
"Ashley!" Jen raised her eyebrows. Her voice had a mix of scolding and surprise to it.
"Mom!" Ashley smiled. "He's so sexy!"
Jen looked away from her daughter and did her best not to smile. Ashley definitely wasn't wrong.
"Okay, he looks just like Pierce Brosnan and his name is Ryan! Ryan! Isn't that crazy? He's like a combination of our dream guys. And once we got inside, he took off his sweatshirt. Mom... Oh my God! You wouldn't believe the body he has!"
Jen turned back to her daughter and grinned. "Really?"
The high school senior nodded. "His sweatshirt was bulky but you could tell he was in good shape with it on, but when it came off," the teen bit her lip, "oh my God..."
Jen had plenty of girl talks with her daughter. They talked about boyfriends, random guys, sexual questions, but this was new. They'd never gawked over the same man before. "Lots of muscles?"
Ashley nodded once again. "Muscles, veins, and when he lifted a box over his head...I saw abs. Abs, Mom!"
"Abs?"
"Sexy, yummy, glorious, abs," the young brunette purred. "He's forty-five and he has abs! And hair like that! Mom, I gotta be honest with you... I think I'm in love..."
This is my first attempt at anything in the BDSM genre and it's a long one (38,000 words). You might want to skip this if you're looking for a short, straight to the action type of story.
*****
Chapter 1 – People Change.
Jen sat at the kitchen table with a visibly disgusted look on her face. Her contempt had been a long time in the making. Seventeen years in fact. Something happened to her husband after their third year of marriage. He suddenly seemed to stop giving a shit about everything in his life, but most noticeably, he stopped caring about his appearance. Tom was a handsome, fit guy when they first started dating. He had a thick head of brown hair, muscles everywhere, and a very low body fat percentage to match. The twenty-five-year-old stud had stamina for days and could get Jen going just by taking his shirt off, but things slowly began to change. His healthy diet was replaced by fast food, his gym routine was ousted by video games and hours of watching TV, and his sexy five o'clock shadow was swapped out for a rough, ragged looking beard. His thick hair was now thin and straggly. Sure, some things weren't under his control. People's hair thinned as they aged and Jen couldn't fault him for that, but it was a combination of everything. This current forty-seven-year-old version of her husband didn't even slightly resemble the twenty-five-year-old man she fell in love with.
Crunch...crunch...crunch...
God, it was so gross. The way he ate drove her insane. His mouth was always open and it felt like a lack of common courtesy to her. Nobody wants to hear you chew your food! Close your goddamn mouth! She just wanted to scream!
Crunch...crunch...crunch...
Cereal. Why was he eating cereal? She showed him how to make smoothies in her blender years ago. All the ingredients were in the refrigerator and they were so easy to make. Kale, tomatoes, celery, throw in some fruit, add a little water, and blend it all up. It was a perfectly healthy, nutritious breakfast. But no, Tom was eating junk food cereal which he specifically bought for himself, just like he did every morning.
Crunch...crunch...crunch...
It was like he was chewing that loud on purpose just to bug her. And...oh my God! He had milk in his already gross, repulsive looking beard! She turned her attention to her coffee on the table to hide her disgust. She never would've imagined this being her husband two decades ago.
Tom had a job in construction. He didn't make a lot of money but money was never important to Jen. She valued personality, loyalty, and how a man could make her feel over finances. And Tom had all those things in the beginning. He was responsible, enjoyable to talk to, and his body could make her melt just by looking at it. He never was the most fun or creative guy in the world, but he was the most mature and loyal of her post-college boyfriends. She knew his looks wouldn't necessarily stay the same twenty years down the road, but she hadn't expected his personality to change the way it had. He just wasn't enjoyable to be around anymore. He never made time to talk or ask about her day, he put off real responsibilities for selfish pleasures, and he spent his days glued to his phone or playing Xbox in the basement. Even now as he ate his cereal, his left hand was busy playing with his iPhone on the oak kitchen table. Twenty years ago they would've at least been having a conversation over breakfast. Now, they weren't even looking at each other.
"Hey, Mom."
The brunette mother didn't have a problem being the family's primary breadwinner. She was an RN and made close to double her husband's salary. There wasn't any resentment or loss of respect over their financial differences. She had friends who had issues with their own careers outearning their husbands but Jen never looked at it as 'her money' or 'his money.' She saw it as 'their money.' They were a team. The entire point of a marriage was to help each other out, but Tom wasn't doing that. There was no sex, no stimulation, and nothing he did caused her to want to be in his presence.
"Hey, Mom!"
Jen loved giving head and she loved to please, but this man caused her to be disgusted by the idea of sticking his dick in her mouth. Where to start? There was his disgusting beer belly, his lack of grooming downstairs, and that awful, winded sucking sound he made whenever they attempted something sexual. He had such incredibly low stamina that receiving a blowjob was exhausting for him. And his borderline nonexistent sex drive made those encounters few and far between. But, the most bizarre part of it all was she still tried. She still attempted to give him oral sex because she wanted to please him, but it was like he wasn't interested.
The forty-four-year-old mother of one didn't look like she did in college, but she worked hard to keep herself together. She had toned legs, a slim figure, and an impressive bust to boot. She was proud of her appearance. Healthy eating, a solid gym going habit, and lots of hiking and yoga was her lifestyle. She was very fit and noticed plenty of guys checking her out wherever she went. This especially occurred at the gym. Younger guys, older guys, married men, single players...it didn't matter. They all made time to at least look at her, or to go out of their way to talk to her. It had grown to the point where she felt embarrassed to be seen in public with her husband. Not like that was a major problem. Tom would never leave the house if it was up to him.
"Mom!"
Jen turned her head to the left to see her eighteen-year-old daughter sitting down at the table with a meal replacement bar in hand.
"Oh, hey, honey," Jen smiled.
Ashley curiously observed her mother while unwrapping her breakfast. "What's going on with you?"
"Nothing," she smiled again. "Just thinking..."
"Dad," Ashley said as she acknowledged her father.
"Hey," Tom responded with his eyes still glued down on his phone.
Just like her mother, Ashley had long brown hair and striking brown eyes. She was quite the looker and received her fair share of attention from the boys at her high school. She had a very close relationship with her mom. It was more of a best friends type of vibe than one of a typical mother-daughter rapport. She had to go to her for her problems and needs since Dad didn't seem to take too much of an interest in her personal life, but that was how guys were she guessed. Maybe things would've been different if she was a boy. She really didn't have too much in common with her father, but she didn't allow that to bother her the way she had in the past.
"My soccer game is at five," Ashley announced. "You guys are coming, right?"
"I'll be there," Jen nodded.
Tom continued to play with his phone. "Me too."
"Okay, cool," the brunette teen smiled. "I'm gonna get going to school. See ya later!"
"Have a good day, sweetheart!" Jen told her daughter as she watched her walk away.
Tom raised his hand in the air and gave a quick wave, once again not moving his eyes from his phone.
...
...
"Mom! Come here!"
Jen left her seat and scurried toward her daughter's voice. The front door was open and Ashley was standing out on the concrete pathway. "What is it?"
The teen pointed next door.
"Holy shit," Jen laughed. "Wow, they actually sold it."
"Didn't you say it would be for sale forever?" her daughter asked. "That it was way overpriced?"
Jen nodded. "I thought it would be. I wonder if they got the asking price."
Their neighbors had put their house up for sale fourteen months ago. Even in this super hot seller's real estate market, Jen couldn't believe how much they were asking. And to be honest, she really didn't want them to move. The Tappins were perfect neighbors. They were an older couple who mostly kept to themselves. There was no noise, no disturbances, and they were extremely nice whenever they encountered one another. Part of her dreaded their potential new neighbors. Screaming kids, loud music, or constant partying. She was positive about one thing. And that was whoever was moving in, they weren't going to be as great as the Tappins.
"Who do you think is moving in?" the teen asked.
"No idea," she answered.
"Hopefully someone cute," Ashley smirked.
Jen rolled her eyes. "Is your boyfriend aware of your boy crazy ways?"
"Hey," Ashley grinned, "there's nothing wrong with looking."
"There certainly isn't," Jen agreed. She wouldn't mind having some eye candy around. She definitely didn't have anything to look at in her house. Maybe some cute high school boy wouldn't be the world's worst neighbor.
"Oh my God!" her daughter stated dramatically. "What if Ryan Gosling moved in?"
Jen burst out into laughter. "What?"
"How awesome would that be?" Ashley smiled while continuing to stare at their neighbor's house.
"What would Ryan Gosling be doing buying a house in upstate New York?"
"I don't know," Ashley answered, "maybe he likes the mountains and the wilderness. Or maybe he's in love with me..."
Jen laughed.
"...and he needs to be in my presence so he bought the house next door. And we're going to start dating, and fall in love, and we're going to get married..."
"Quite the imagination there, kiddo," the older brunette laughed.
"Hey, a girl can dream..." Ashley smirked. "Okay, so if Ryan Gosling moves in next door, I have permission to date him, right?"
She nodded with a slight smirk. "Yeah, I think I'll take my chances with that one..."
"So, who's your guy?"
Jen raised her eyebrows. "What?"
"You have one guy to be able to do anything with if he moves in next door," Ashley told her. "Who's it gonna be?"
She debated with herself for a moment. "Pierce Brosnan."
Ashley furrowed her brow. "Who?"
"Who!?" Jen surprisingly asked. "Are you serious?"
"Never heard of him," the teen told her mother. "Is he an actor or something?"
"Oh my God..." Jen groaned as she reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone. "He was super popular in the 90's."
"Jesus..." Ashley laughed. "What is he like, sixty?"
"Sixty-four. Here," she told her while holding out her phone.
"Woah!" Ashley smiled as she peered at the screen. "Yeah...I'd get some of that..."
"Oh my God!" Jen laughed. "You'd get some of that?"
"Absolutely..." she purred. "He was James Bond?"
The mom nodded. "Yep. He was the best one too."
"Oh yeah," Ashley told her as she continued to scroll through the pictures with her finger, "I'm all over that. Oh wait, I'm sorry, I'm sorry...I forgot, he's yours. I get Ryan Gosling and you get Pierce Brosnan. Deal?" she asked with her hand extended.
Jen smirked as she accepted her daughter's handshake. "You got yourself deal."
"Alright, I gotta get going. I'll see you at my game later."
"Have a good day, baby!" Jen shouted while watching Ashley hustle to her car. She turned back to her neighbor's house and grinned. Ryan Gosling, Pierce Brosnan, or just someone who gave the slightest of shits about their personal appearance would be a godsend at this point. She had no intentions of cheating, but her daughter was right. There's nothing wrong with looking.
Chapter 2 – Meet the New Neighbor.
Forty-two days later. October 27th. 5:43 PM.
Jen was enjoying a novel on her Kindle while she relaxed on the swing in the backyard. She felt an urge to enjoy every second of the remaining fall weather before an early winter storm rolled through next week. The forecasters were already calling for six to eight inches of snow and it wasn't even November! But it was sixty-two degrees out today, she had on a pair of black yoga pants and a purple tank top, and the entire backyard was hers. That wasn't much of a surprise though. Tom ran downstairs after work to play some new video game he bought on the way home. Her contempt for him had been growing by the day for the last decade, but it'd become exponentially worse over the past week. She'd tried hard to look for redeeming qualities in him over the past month but she just couldn't find any. In fact, she found herself becoming jealous of her friend's relationships. Sure, some of them were with assholes, but at least they had their shit together. The idea of Tom being an in-shape asshole with a high sex drive had become a fantasy. Hell, she didn't even need him to be in good shape at this point. She would kill to watch the sliding glass door open to the backyard, see him waddle in her direction, feel him grab a handful of her hair, and drag her into the bedroom for a long overdue pounding. She wasn't even asking to be seduced or talked to. She just needed to be fucked properly. And as disgusting as her husband was to her physically, she would be more than willing to let him have his way with her if it resulted in some great sex. She desperately needed it.
The sliding glass door opened.
It certainly wasn't her dream guy. It was Ashley.
"Mom!"
"Hey," Jen said as she peeked up from her tablet.
The teen pointed over at their neighbor's house. "Movers are here!"
Jen stood up with a smirk and followed her daughter into the house, through the kitchen and living room, and out the front door. There she saw a moving truck with what appeared to be college-aged boys unloading furniture and boxes.
"Did you get a look at anyone?" Jen asked.
Ashley shook her head. "Just the guys from the moving place. There's a black BMW parked in the street though."
Jen attempted to look but couldn't see anything.
"The trucks blocking your view," Ashley told her. "You know who would drive a BMW though? I'll give you a hint. His name starts with an R."
She shook her head. "I'll tell you what. I'll buy you a BMW if Ryan Gosling is our neighbor..."
"Me and Ryan..." the brunette teen smirked, "cruisin' in my BMW..."
Jen shyly glanced down as she noticed one of the twenty-something-year-old guys smile at them before jumping into the moving truck to retrieve another box.
"I think that one was for you," Ashley teased her mom. "You want me to introduce you?"
Jen rolled her eyes.
"That's all!" one of the movers shouted. Minutes later, several men piled into the moving truck while three others loaded themselves into a car which was parked behind the black BMV in the street.
"Come on," Jen told her daughter, "let's go say hi."
The two girls walked over the grass and onto their neighbor's driveway before journeying the pathway which led to the front door. Before Jen could reach out to ring the doorbell, her daughter turned and caught her attention. "Should we have brought something? Like a housewarming gift or food?"
"Shit..." Jen groaned. "Umm...maybe...ah, it's too late now. I'll make cookies or something tomorrow."
The door suddenly opened before either girl could reach for the doorbell. A man was standing in front of them with a curious look on his face. "Hi."
"Hell...hello," Ashley smiled. "We came over to say hi."
Their new neighbor continued to give them an inquisitive look.
"We...we live next door," Jen told him, pointing at the house to the right. She couldn't believe she felt nervous. It wasn't from meeting their new neighbor. That wasn't a big deal. It was his appearance that was making her giddy. The mystery man's brown hair was styled in falling quiff cut, his face was chiseled and defined with the start of a five o'clock shadow, and his blue eyes were striking. Jen felt her daughter reach out and lightly elbow her and she knew exactly what Ashley was referring to. Their new neighbor had a striking resemblance to a forty-something-year-old Pierce Brosnan.
"Oh, hey, neighbors. I'm Ryan."
Ashley turned to her mother and smiled. Jen shot her a quick grin back before looking straight-ahead at their strikingly handsome neighbor once again.
"I'm Jen," the mom introduced herself, "and this is my daughter, Ashley. We just wanted to come over and say hi."
Ryan smiled at the two girls. "Well, it's nice to meet you both. Fortunately, I'm off from work for the next few days so I have some time to sort this stuff out," he told them as he stepped aside to reveal dozens of large boxes behind him in a mostly empty living room.
"What do you do for work?" Jen asked.
"I'm a financial adviser," he answered in a deep, captivating voice, "but the real question is, what do you do for work?" he asked as he turned his attention to Ashley.
"Me?" the teen asked.
He nodded.
"On the weekends I sometimes work at my friend's mom's dog grooming business, but I don't have a lot of time with school, and soccer, and stuff."
"You want to make some money?" the new neighbor asked.
"Umm...yeah. How?"
Ryan pointed at the stacks of boxes behind him. "I could use some help unpacking."
"Totally," Ashley smiled before looking at her mom. "Is that okay?"
"Yeah...I don't see why not," Jen answered. "Now?"
Ryan nodded again.
"Let's get started!" Ashley smiled before squeezing past their new neighbor and letting herself into his house.
Five hours later...
Jen was lying on the couch with her Kindle, compulsively checking her phone for the hundredth time. She'd texted her daughter every thirty minutes to make sure everything was okay. Jen was too trusting at times. Sure, this new guy seemed nice, but she didn't know anything about him. And while Ashley had immediately responded to every one of her texts, five hours had gone by. Maybe she needed to go over and check on the two of them.
She suddenly heard the front door open.
"Hey, Mom!" Ashley greeted her mother with a big smile as she strolled into the living room. "Guess how much I made?"
"How much?"
"Two hundred dollars!" she smiled as she held up two crisp one hundred dollar bills.
"Two hundred dollars!" Jen shouted. "Are you serious? Jeez, I should've offered to help."
Ashley took a seat in the recliner next to the couch her mother was lying on. "And can we talk about our new neighbor for a second?"
Jen sat up with a smirk before looking at her daughter. Tom had gone to sleep almost an hour ago so there wasn't any need to keep their voices down. Playing video games for four straight hours was quite the exhausting lifestyle after all. Sometimes she wondered if she was married to a forty-seven-year-old man or one of her daughter's boyfriends. Well, at least her daughter's boyfriends would be giving her the proper sexual attention. She opened her mouth to say something but Ashley quickly cut her off.
"Oh my fuckin' God!"
"Ashley!" Jen raised her eyebrows. Her voice had a mix of scolding and surprise to it.
"Mom!" Ashley smiled. "He's so sexy!"
Jen looked away from her daughter and did her best not to smile. Ashley definitely wasn't wrong.
"Okay, he looks just like Pierce Brosnan and his name is Ryan! Ryan! Isn't that crazy? He's like a combination of our dream guys. And once we got inside, he took off his sweatshirt. Mom... Oh my God! You wouldn't believe the body he has!"
Jen turned back to her daughter and grinned. "Really?"
The high school senior nodded. "His sweatshirt was bulky but you could tell he was in good shape with it on, but when it came off," the teen bit her lip, "oh my God..."
Jen had plenty of girl talks with her daughter. They talked about boyfriends, random guys, sexual questions, but this was new. They'd never gawked over the same man before. "Lots of muscles?"
Ashley nodded once again. "Muscles, veins, and when he lifted a box over his head...I saw abs. Abs, Mom!"
"Abs?"
"Sexy, yummy, glorious, abs," the young brunette purred. "He's forty-five and he has abs! And hair like that! Mom, I gotta be honest with you... I think I'm in love..."
Jen raised her eyebrows at her daughter as Ashley started laughing.
"I'm just kidding. But not about how sexy he is. He's crazy good-looking and super nice. And he told me he's single and has never been married. How's that possible?"
"Sounds like a playboy to me," Jen told her. "You want to avoid those guys, sweetheart. They're just looking to use girls."
"He could use me all he wants..." Ashley grinned.
"Ashley! Seriously? Do I need to worry about this?"
She shot her mother a smile. "Relax, Mom! I'm just kidding. Anyway, I think you're the one I need to be worried about."
"Me?"
"Yeah, you," Ashley told her. "Your dream guy's twin is living next door."
"I'm a married woman," she announced as she turned her attention to whatever show was playing on the television. She hadn't glanced at the TV in hours, but was desperately trying to prevent her daughter from seeing any potential cracks on her face.
"I know..." Ashley agreed, "and there's nothing wrong with looking..."
"There certainly isn't..." Jen smiled as she slowly turned back to her daughter, "and I'm going to be doing a lot of looking!"
Ashley laughed along with her mother. "He actually offered me a cleaning job."
"Cleaning?"
"Yeah," she told her mother. "Once a week I'd go over there and clean his house."
"You? Cleaning?" Jen laughed.
"I know, I know...but, if he paid me forty bucks an hour to unpack his stuff, imagine the pay for vacuuming and doing his laundry!"
"Wait, you're gonna do it?" she asked.
"Absolutely," Ashley answered. "It's an easy gig and where else am I going to make that kind of money in cash?"
Jen smiled to herself as a few moments of silence passed. "Abs and muscles?"
Ashley stood up with a chuckle before giving her mom a hug. "Lots and lots of muscles. Goodnight, Mom."
"Goodnight, baby," Jen told her. Suddenly, she was in the mood for some action.
Five minutes later...
"Tom... Tom... Tom!"
The sound of snoring was the only response.
She pinched her husband's nose closed and waited a few seconds. Tom's head shot up and quickly looked around the bedroom. "Jen?"
"Yeah..." she answered.
"Everything okay?" he asked.
"I need Daddy to take care of me," she playfully purred into his ear.
"Jesus Christ, Jen," the overweight husband shook his head. "Really? With the daddy stuff again?"
"What?" she asked. "It's hot."
He shook his head again. "No, it's not. It's weird."
"Come on..." she whined. "Daddy's little girl has been very bad."
"You're my forty-four-year-old wife," Tom told her. "You're not a little girl."
Jen bit her lip and gave her husband an innocent, shy look.
"Just go to bed, alright?" he told her.
She leaned in closer and pressed her mouth directly against his ear. "You can do whatever you want to me."
"Whatever?" Tom asked.
"Whatever," Jen grinned.
'Whatever' was Jen's answer because she had no intention of having sex with Tom tonight. Well, physically, Tom would be the one in the room, but in her mind it would be Ryan. His gorgeous face, his deep, smooth voice, and that body her daughter described to her. Tonight, Jen was going to get fucked by the stud next door.
She watched her husband throw the blankets off himself and quickly position his body over hers. She immediately felt the pressure of his heavy weight.
"How about you get behind me?" Jen asked as she struggled for breath.
"I thought you said whatever I want?"
She rolled her eyes and attempted to push his body up slightly to give herself room to breathe. She hated everything about missionary sex. How vanilla it was, the lack of surprises, and the fact she had to stare into her husband's face. The latter was probably the least charming part of the entire experience.
"I'm gonna give it to you real good," Tom grinned as he struggled to pull down his boxer shorts. He finally completely the task and slid inside his wife.
Jen never had a problem with Tom's penis size. He wasn't big, but he was more than adequate to get the job done. Other than his appearance, her problem with him since his substantial weight gain was how he fucked. It was slow, boring, and usually done in less than thirty seconds. She wanted to be ravished. She wanted some powerful, strong man to slam her against the wall and slap her ass so hard it stung. She wanted to be forced to crawl around on her hands and knees with a leash around her neck. She just wanted someone to use and dominate her in the bedroom.
Was she really asking for that much? Don't guys love porn? So why couldn't her husband just do some porn stuff to her? Pull her hair, spit in her face, make her drink his cum out of a glass. Her list of kinks and fetishes had exploded since she turned forty but she didn't have anyone to explore them with. Maybe Tom needed to be led. Maybe she had to take charge of the situation.
"Fuck your little girl."
Tom pretended to ignore his wife as he gave her another light pump.
"God!" Jen let out an exaggerated moan. "Your cock is so big, Daddy!"
He responded with an audible huff. His wife's role-playing wasn't turning him on.
Jen looked into her husband's eyes. "I want you to cum on my face."
"Stop," Tom said.
"What?"
"Stop," he repeated. "Just stop talking, okay?"
"But..."
"But nothing, Jen!" he interrupted. "I'm not your daddy, you aren't my little girl, and I'm not cumming on my wife's face! Just stop!"
"Nooooooo..." she whined. "Come on..."
Tom shook his head. He pulled out of her and rolled back over to his side of the bed.
"One time!" she begged. "Just once! Just give me what I want and I won't ask for it again!"
He gave her an annoyed look. "One time of doing what?"
"I want you to get behind me," Jen started, "and pull my hair while you fuck me as hard as you can. I want you to call me whatever you want, I want you slap me around, and I just want to...I just...I just want to feel used! Anything you've ever seen in porn that you want to try is fair game! I'm literally up for anything! You want to cum on the floor, grab me by my hair, and make me slurp it up? Go ahead and do it!"
Tom had a repulsed look on his face. "Jen, oh my God!"
"What?" she asked.
"What? What!? Are you serious? What kind of sick, disgusting stuff are you talking about? I would never make you do something like that!"
"But, I want to do it!" she loudly stated.
He slowly shook his head. "Maybe you should talk to someone."
"What? Talk to who?"
"Like a therapist or something," Tom told her. "This isn't normal."
"Not normal? Not normal!? Not normal is barely having sex and when we do, doing it in fuckin' missionary. God, I fuckin' hate missionary!!"
"Keep your voice down," Tom whispered. "And since when do you hate missionary? You've never said anything."
"Why do I have to say something?" she asked with a frustrated tone to her voice. "Why can't you just know? Why can't you just...be...be a man?"
"Be a man? I am a man, Jen. What I wasn't aware of was the fact that I was married to a fuckin' slut..."
Her eyes bulged at his last comment. 'A fuckin' slut?' Tom never swore. And he especially never called her names. Maybe she had something going here...
"I'm a dirty little slut," she grinned. There was a fire in her husband's eyes which she hadn't seen in a long, long time. She could tell that questioning his masculinity had really bothered him. She knew she had him close.
Tom opened his mouth.
Demand I suck your cock. No! Don't demand it! Just grab my hair and fuck my face until I can't breathe! Cum in your hand and make me lick it clean! Just do something kinky for once in your life!!
"Fine," Tom huffed. "If you want me behind you...then okay...I guess," he told her as he pointed at the mattress.
Yes! Oh my God! Finally! Something other than missionary!
She wanted to get spanked, she wanted to feel her neck snapped back, she wanted to do all the things those sexy, little porn girls had done to them in the x-rated movies she'd become all too familiar with over the past decade. And all those amateur videos she saw of couples doing wild stuff? She wanted in on it! Tom was never going to look like the man she wanted to fuck, but he could still fuck her like a man. This was it! This was the turning point in her miserable marriage! She wasn't going to be sexually deprived any longer! She quickly positioned herself on her hands and knees and felt her husband slowly slide inside her before taking a short, quick pump. It was followed by another timid, weak thrust. This isn't what she wanted.
"Fuck me."
His pace didn't change.
"Fuck me, Tom!" she demanded.
"I am," he responded.
"No, you're not," she huffed. "Fuckin...just fuckin' give it to me!!"
Tom responded with a light slap against her toned, plump butt cheek. She barely felt it. In fact, the thuds from his big, hanging stomach pressing against her backside were far harsher.
Jen was on her knees with her butt in the air and her head resting against her hands, bored out of her mind as her husband did his best to play out her fantasy. There was no use in doing this anymore. She was never going to get what she wanted or needed out of him. She quietly waited for him to finish before feeling several spurts of cum land on her butt and lower back. She silently walked into the hallway bathroom to clean herself off.
She was strong enough to handle this. Plenty of men and women were probably stuck in shitty marriages. There was no reason to feel sorry for herself. She...
She started to cry.
Jen turned the wall fan on to drown out the sound of her sobbing. Why was she like this? Why couldn't she just be happy? She had a beautiful daughter, an enjoyable career, a nice home, friends, and a husband who didn't cheat or abuse her. She should be thankful for all of that. But the one thing she wanted...no...the one thing she needed, she couldn't get. Maybe it was time to try getting it elsewhere. Even during all these awful years of being trapped in a dead bedroom marriage, Jen only ever tried to change herself and her husband. She never considered trying to find what she needed elsewhere. There were so many options. There were so many guys who'd be up for giving her what she wanted but it still didn't feel right. Cheating on the man she promised to stay loyal to wasn't something she could just do on a whim. She needed to really think about it. Jen just needed to think...
Chapter 3 – Finding Out About Mr. M.
Crunch...crunch...crunch...
Jen sat alone at the kitchen table but she could still hear that horrific grinding sound which usually came from the now empty seat across from her.
Crunch...crunch...crunch...
Tom traded shifts with his coworker so he didn't have to be at work until 2PM today. He never missed an opportunity to sleep in so why could she still feel his presence at the table? There wasn't an overweight, antisocial recluse sitting across from her on this fall morning. And not only could she still hear him, but she could feel him. She could still feel the soft, timid, passionless sex from the night before. She didn't even have an opportunity to let Ryan seep into her mind during her time with Tom last night.
She didn't know anything about her neighbor other than how he looked, but she couldn't help but feel like she knew him. She could picture the way he moved and operated in the bedroom. She could visualize his love for rough sex and all kinds of kinky fetishes. She could just tell from their brief exchange yesterday. There was a certain vibe which resonated from the mature, successful, good-looking man next door. His presence created a powerful energy. Jen had been around those types of guys before. She would occasionally encounter them at the gym or while out running errands. They're the type of men who knew what they wanted and went for it. Those same guys hit on her despite seeing the wedding ring on her finger. And why should they care? They saw a woman they wanted; so they went for it. And receiving attention from those types of men was the highest of compliments.
"Hey, Mom."
"Hey, sweetie," Jen greeted her daughter. "Someone's up early for once..."
The teen opened the refrigerator door and dug around inside for ingredients. She re-emerged with two handfuls of fruits and vegetables in assorted bags for a morning smoothie. "I know. Couldn't really sleep. Where's Dad?"
"He's working late today," Jen answered. "How are things going with your boyfriend, by the way? I feel like we haven't talked about Mike in a while."
Ashley began piling kale into the blender before dropping several frozen strawberries in with it. "Umm...good...I guess."
"Uh-oh."
She shot her mother a look. "Uh-oh? What's that supposed to mean?"
"'I guess' is never good," Jen told her before taking a sip of her coffee. "At least in my experience."
"Well...I just...I don't know. Maybe we shouldn't talk about it."
Jen had a confused expression on her face as a result of her daughter's most recent comment. "Excuse me?"
Ashley dropped a small pile of carrots, tomatoes, and blueberries into the blender and fastened the lid after adding some water. "I know we talk about pretty much everything but this is kinda personal."
"That's what I'm here for, baby," Jen told her before pausing to allow Ashley to run the blender. When she finished liquefying her breakfast, Jen continued. "I'm here to talk about anything with you. Anything you need. I'm your mother. That's my job."
Ashley carried her smoothie over to the kitchen table and sat in her father's usual seat, directly across from her mother. "I know, but...it's...I don't know..."
"Baby," Jen stated softly, "you can tell me anything. I've been around the block a time or two. I can help."
The eighteen-year-old brunette took a sip of her breakfast before looking up at her mom. "Okay...but you can't say a word to anyone."
"Who am I gonna tell?" Jen asked with a slight smile.
Ashley took a deep breath. "Mike...Mike is...is just so...I don't know...passive."
"Passive?"
"Yeah," Ashley told her mom, "passive. Like, he never initiates anything."
"Like how?"
The teen took another deep breath. "So, let's say we go for a walk. He never holds my hand. I mean, he'll hold it, but I have to be the one to reach out and take his hand. Once I do, he'll hold it, but he never just takes it."
Jen inventively stared at her daughter.
"And like, if we want to go somewhere to eat...oh! This just happened last weekend! So I asked him what restaurant he wants to go to and he tells me..."
"That he doesn't care?" Jen asked, interrupting her.
Ashley's mouth dropped. "Yeah! How'd you know that!?"
She let out a light laugh and motioned with her finger for her daughter to continue her story.
"Okay, so he tells me he doesn't care. But it wasn't just with the restaurant. It's like that with everything. He's always fine with doing whatever I want. At first, I thought it was a good thing. You know, that we can always go to the places I want and do the things I want to do..."
"But sometimes you want him to lead you?" Jen asked.
"Exactly!" Ashley loudly stated.
Jen nodded. "Honey, he's never going to change."
"He isn't?"
The mom shook her head. "Listen, and you can NEVER repeat this to your father."
"I swear," Ashley stated.
"I still care about your dad," Jen told her, "and I always will, but there were a few signs I look back on and realized I missed. Either that or I just refused to see them when they were right in front of me."
"Like what?" the teen asked. She knew her parents' marriage wasn't exactly smooth sailing. They rarely talked or even made eye contact with each other, but at least they were still together. And that was better than most of her friend's parents who had seemingly all divorced over the past five or so years.
"Dad's a laid back guy," Jen continued. "You know that. He pretty much just goes with the flow. And while that's nice in a lot of aspects, it really sucks in others. When we started dating, he was the same as your boyfriend. Sure, we clicked. Sure, he had his shit together unlike most of the other guys his age, or any age really, but I was always the one taking the lead. And I'm not talking financially. The whole, 'men need to outearn women thing' is nonsense and outdated. That was your grandparents biggest concern when we started dating and especially when we decided to get married. That I wasn't marrying some wealthy guy with a prestigious job."
"I don't care about money," Ashley chimed in after taking another sip of her breakfast. "I plan on being more than capable of supporting myself and I don't expect a guy to provide for me. I'm fine as long as he's doing something to contribute."
Jen pointed her index finger at her daughter. "Exactly! And that's how you should feel. But, there are certain things you can't fight..."
"Like what?"
Jen debated with herself over how to word what she wanted to say. "We're women. And as women, we gravitate toward men who...who...know what they want."
"Know what they want?"
"Yeah," she answered, "men who know what they want. And men who keep us on our toes."
Ashley had a curious look on her face.
"Okay, I'll give you an example," Jen smiled as she noticed her daughter's expression. "Before your father, I dated a guy in college named Bill. Now, Bill was a bit of an asshole."
The teen chuckled.
"He really was," Jen told her. "He cheated on me, I took him back, and then he cheated again. But Bill had some qualities which separated him from almost every man I've ever met."
The two girls each took a sip of their respective drinks before Jen continued.
"He was...really...unique."
"Unique?" Ashley asked.
"Yeah," Jen reiterated, thinking back to those days over twenty years ago, "very unique. Now, Bill was against the idea of gifts, and jewelry, and really spending money on anything. He would buy some stuff but never anything crazy. And that bugged me at first. I would see girls around me getting chocolate and flowers on Valentine's Day, and I'd listen to their stories about how they went out to fancy restaurants and got two thousand dollar necklaces, and it would make me jealous. I thought I was missing out."
"You kinda were...weren't you?"
Jen shook her head with a big smile. "Not at all. Because Bill realized something. He was extremely funny, and fun to be around, and spontaneous, and exciting, and assertive, and the sex was amazing. I just couldn't get enough of him."
Ashley wasn't following.
"And he figured out the game," Jen told her. "Gifts, lavish vacations, and expensive dinners are for guys who need to impress women that way. Those guys don't think they have any other worthwhile qualities so they try to shower their girlfriends and wives with money. And in return, they're looking for love and affection.
"So, what did you guys do for Valentine's Day?"
"He set up a scavenger hunt which started in his dorm, took me to his car, then to my car, then to the campus library, and finally ended in my dorm. Each clue had a little present or something we would only understand because it was an inside joke between the two of us. None of the gifts were expensive, but they were thoughtful. They meant something. And then the last gift...
...
"What, Mom?"
Jen shook her head with a smirk.
Ashley smiled. "You gotta tell me!"
"The last gift," Jen laughed, "was...was a ..."
"Mom! Tell me!"
Jen took a sip of coffee and tried to compose herself. "The last gift was one of those sexy cupid costumes which I wore for him that night..."
"Mom!!" Ashley laughed.
"I'm just kidding. But not about how sexy he is. He's crazy good-looking and super nice. And he told me he's single and has never been married. How's that possible?"
"Sounds like a playboy to me," Jen told her. "You want to avoid those guys, sweetheart. They're just looking to use girls."
"He could use me all he wants..." Ashley grinned.
"Ashley! Seriously? Do I need to worry about this?"
She shot her mother a smile. "Relax, Mom! I'm just kidding. Anyway, I think you're the one I need to be worried about."
"Me?"
"Yeah, you," Ashley told her. "Your dream guy's twin is living next door."
"I'm a married woman," she announced as she turned her attention to whatever show was playing on the television. She hadn't glanced at the TV in hours, but was desperately trying to prevent her daughter from seeing any potential cracks on her face.
"I know..." Ashley agreed, "and there's nothing wrong with looking..."
"There certainly isn't..." Jen smiled as she slowly turned back to her daughter, "and I'm going to be doing a lot of looking!"
Ashley laughed along with her mother. "He actually offered me a cleaning job."
"Cleaning?"
"Yeah," she told her mother. "Once a week I'd go over there and clean his house."
"You? Cleaning?" Jen laughed.
"I know, I know...but, if he paid me forty bucks an hour to unpack his stuff, imagine the pay for vacuuming and doing his laundry!"
"Wait, you're gonna do it?" she asked.
"Absolutely," Ashley answered. "It's an easy gig and where else am I going to make that kind of money in cash?"
Jen smiled to herself as a few moments of silence passed. "Abs and muscles?"
Ashley stood up with a chuckle before giving her mom a hug. "Lots and lots of muscles. Goodnight, Mom."
"Goodnight, baby," Jen told her. Suddenly, she was in the mood for some action.
Five minutes later...
"Tom... Tom... Tom!"
The sound of snoring was the only response.
She pinched her husband's nose closed and waited a few seconds. Tom's head shot up and quickly looked around the bedroom. "Jen?"
"Yeah..." she answered.
"Everything okay?" he asked.
"I need Daddy to take care of me," she playfully purred into his ear.
"Jesus Christ, Jen," the overweight husband shook his head. "Really? With the daddy stuff again?"
"What?" she asked. "It's hot."
He shook his head again. "No, it's not. It's weird."
"Come on..." she whined. "Daddy's little girl has been very bad."
"You're my forty-four-year-old wife," Tom told her. "You're not a little girl."
Jen bit her lip and gave her husband an innocent, shy look.
"Just go to bed, alright?" he told her.
She leaned in closer and pressed her mouth directly against his ear. "You can do whatever you want to me."
"Whatever?" Tom asked.
"Whatever," Jen grinned.
'Whatever' was Jen's answer because she had no intention of having sex with Tom tonight. Well, physically, Tom would be the one in the room, but in her mind it would be Ryan. His gorgeous face, his deep, smooth voice, and that body her daughter described to her. Tonight, Jen was going to get fucked by the stud next door.
She watched her husband throw the blankets off himself and quickly position his body over hers. She immediately felt the pressure of his heavy weight.
"How about you get behind me?" Jen asked as she struggled for breath.
"I thought you said whatever I want?"
She rolled her eyes and attempted to push his body up slightly to give herself room to breathe. She hated everything about missionary sex. How vanilla it was, the lack of surprises, and the fact she had to stare into her husband's face. The latter was probably the least charming part of the entire experience.
"I'm gonna give it to you real good," Tom grinned as he struggled to pull down his boxer shorts. He finally completely the task and slid inside his wife.
Jen never had a problem with Tom's penis size. He wasn't big, but he was more than adequate to get the job done. Other than his appearance, her problem with him since his substantial weight gain was how he fucked. It was slow, boring, and usually done in less than thirty seconds. She wanted to be ravished. She wanted some powerful, strong man to slam her against the wall and slap her ass so hard it stung. She wanted to be forced to crawl around on her hands and knees with a leash around her neck. She just wanted someone to use and dominate her in the bedroom.
Was she really asking for that much? Don't guys love porn? So why couldn't her husband just do some porn stuff to her? Pull her hair, spit in her face, make her drink his cum out of a glass. Her list of kinks and fetishes had exploded since she turned forty but she didn't have anyone to explore them with. Maybe Tom needed to be led. Maybe she had to take charge of the situation.
"Fuck your little girl."
Tom pretended to ignore his wife as he gave her another light pump.
"God!" Jen let out an exaggerated moan. "Your cock is so big, Daddy!"
He responded with an audible huff. His wife's role-playing wasn't turning him on.
Jen looked into her husband's eyes. "I want you to cum on my face."
"Stop," Tom said.
"What?"
"Stop," he repeated. "Just stop talking, okay?"
"But..."
"But nothing, Jen!" he interrupted. "I'm not your daddy, you aren't my little girl, and I'm not cumming on my wife's face! Just stop!"
"Nooooooo..." she whined. "Come on..."
Tom shook his head. He pulled out of her and rolled back over to his side of the bed.
"One time!" she begged. "Just once! Just give me what I want and I won't ask for it again!"
He gave her an annoyed look. "One time of doing what?"
"I want you to get behind me," Jen started, "and pull my hair while you fuck me as hard as you can. I want you to call me whatever you want, I want you slap me around, and I just want to...I just...I just want to feel used! Anything you've ever seen in porn that you want to try is fair game! I'm literally up for anything! You want to cum on the floor, grab me by my hair, and make me slurp it up? Go ahead and do it!"
Tom had a repulsed look on his face. "Jen, oh my God!"
"What?" she asked.
"What? What!? Are you serious? What kind of sick, disgusting stuff are you talking about? I would never make you do something like that!"
"But, I want to do it!" she loudly stated.
He slowly shook his head. "Maybe you should talk to someone."
"What? Talk to who?"
"Like a therapist or something," Tom told her. "This isn't normal."
"Not normal? Not normal!? Not normal is barely having sex and when we do, doing it in fuckin' missionary. God, I fuckin' hate missionary!!"
"Keep your voice down," Tom whispered. "And since when do you hate missionary? You've never said anything."
"Why do I have to say something?" she asked with a frustrated tone to her voice. "Why can't you just know? Why can't you just...be...be a man?"
"Be a man? I am a man, Jen. What I wasn't aware of was the fact that I was married to a fuckin' slut..."
Her eyes bulged at his last comment. 'A fuckin' slut?' Tom never swore. And he especially never called her names. Maybe she had something going here...
"I'm a dirty little slut," she grinned. There was a fire in her husband's eyes which she hadn't seen in a long, long time. She could tell that questioning his masculinity had really bothered him. She knew she had him close.
Tom opened his mouth.
Demand I suck your cock. No! Don't demand it! Just grab my hair and fuck my face until I can't breathe! Cum in your hand and make me lick it clean! Just do something kinky for once in your life!!
"Fine," Tom huffed. "If you want me behind you...then okay...I guess," he told her as he pointed at the mattress.
Yes! Oh my God! Finally! Something other than missionary!
She wanted to get spanked, she wanted to feel her neck snapped back, she wanted to do all the things those sexy, little porn girls had done to them in the x-rated movies she'd become all too familiar with over the past decade. And all those amateur videos she saw of couples doing wild stuff? She wanted in on it! Tom was never going to look like the man she wanted to fuck, but he could still fuck her like a man. This was it! This was the turning point in her miserable marriage! She wasn't going to be sexually deprived any longer! She quickly positioned herself on her hands and knees and felt her husband slowly slide inside her before taking a short, quick pump. It was followed by another timid, weak thrust. This isn't what she wanted.
"Fuck me."
His pace didn't change.
"Fuck me, Tom!" she demanded.
"I am," he responded.
"No, you're not," she huffed. "Fuckin...just fuckin' give it to me!!"
Tom responded with a light slap against her toned, plump butt cheek. She barely felt it. In fact, the thuds from his big, hanging stomach pressing against her backside were far harsher.
Jen was on her knees with her butt in the air and her head resting against her hands, bored out of her mind as her husband did his best to play out her fantasy. There was no use in doing this anymore. She was never going to get what she wanted or needed out of him. She quietly waited for him to finish before feeling several spurts of cum land on her butt and lower back. She silently walked into the hallway bathroom to clean herself off.
She was strong enough to handle this. Plenty of men and women were probably stuck in shitty marriages. There was no reason to feel sorry for herself. She...
She started to cry.
Jen turned the wall fan on to drown out the sound of her sobbing. Why was she like this? Why couldn't she just be happy? She had a beautiful daughter, an enjoyable career, a nice home, friends, and a husband who didn't cheat or abuse her. She should be thankful for all of that. But the one thing she wanted...no...the one thing she needed, she couldn't get. Maybe it was time to try getting it elsewhere. Even during all these awful years of being trapped in a dead bedroom marriage, Jen only ever tried to change herself and her husband. She never considered trying to find what she needed elsewhere. There were so many options. There were so many guys who'd be up for giving her what she wanted but it still didn't feel right. Cheating on the man she promised to stay loyal to wasn't something she could just do on a whim. She needed to really think about it. Jen just needed to think...
Chapter 3 – Finding Out About Mr. M.
Crunch...crunch...crunch...
Jen sat alone at the kitchen table but she could still hear that horrific grinding sound which usually came from the now empty seat across from her.
Crunch...crunch...crunch...
Tom traded shifts with his coworker so he didn't have to be at work until 2PM today. He never missed an opportunity to sleep in so why could she still feel his presence at the table? There wasn't an overweight, antisocial recluse sitting across from her on this fall morning. And not only could she still hear him, but she could feel him. She could still feel the soft, timid, passionless sex from the night before. She didn't even have an opportunity to let Ryan seep into her mind during her time with Tom last night.
She didn't know anything about her neighbor other than how he looked, but she couldn't help but feel like she knew him. She could picture the way he moved and operated in the bedroom. She could visualize his love for rough sex and all kinds of kinky fetishes. She could just tell from their brief exchange yesterday. There was a certain vibe which resonated from the mature, successful, good-looking man next door. His presence created a powerful energy. Jen had been around those types of guys before. She would occasionally encounter them at the gym or while out running errands. They're the type of men who knew what they wanted and went for it. Those same guys hit on her despite seeing the wedding ring on her finger. And why should they care? They saw a woman they wanted; so they went for it. And receiving attention from those types of men was the highest of compliments.
"Hey, Mom."
"Hey, sweetie," Jen greeted her daughter. "Someone's up early for once..."
The teen opened the refrigerator door and dug around inside for ingredients. She re-emerged with two handfuls of fruits and vegetables in assorted bags for a morning smoothie. "I know. Couldn't really sleep. Where's Dad?"
"He's working late today," Jen answered. "How are things going with your boyfriend, by the way? I feel like we haven't talked about Mike in a while."
Ashley began piling kale into the blender before dropping several frozen strawberries in with it. "Umm...good...I guess."
"Uh-oh."
She shot her mother a look. "Uh-oh? What's that supposed to mean?"
"'I guess' is never good," Jen told her before taking a sip of her coffee. "At least in my experience."
"Well...I just...I don't know. Maybe we shouldn't talk about it."
Jen had a confused expression on her face as a result of her daughter's most recent comment. "Excuse me?"
Ashley dropped a small pile of carrots, tomatoes, and blueberries into the blender and fastened the lid after adding some water. "I know we talk about pretty much everything but this is kinda personal."
"That's what I'm here for, baby," Jen told her before pausing to allow Ashley to run the blender. When she finished liquefying her breakfast, Jen continued. "I'm here to talk about anything with you. Anything you need. I'm your mother. That's my job."
Ashley carried her smoothie over to the kitchen table and sat in her father's usual seat, directly across from her mother. "I know, but...it's...I don't know..."
"Baby," Jen stated softly, "you can tell me anything. I've been around the block a time or two. I can help."
The eighteen-year-old brunette took a sip of her breakfast before looking up at her mom. "Okay...but you can't say a word to anyone."
"Who am I gonna tell?" Jen asked with a slight smile.
Ashley took a deep breath. "Mike...Mike is...is just so...I don't know...passive."
"Passive?"
"Yeah," Ashley told her mom, "passive. Like, he never initiates anything."
"Like how?"
The teen took another deep breath. "So, let's say we go for a walk. He never holds my hand. I mean, he'll hold it, but I have to be the one to reach out and take his hand. Once I do, he'll hold it, but he never just takes it."
Jen inventively stared at her daughter.
"And like, if we want to go somewhere to eat...oh! This just happened last weekend! So I asked him what restaurant he wants to go to and he tells me..."
"That he doesn't care?" Jen asked, interrupting her.
Ashley's mouth dropped. "Yeah! How'd you know that!?"
She let out a light laugh and motioned with her finger for her daughter to continue her story.
"Okay, so he tells me he doesn't care. But it wasn't just with the restaurant. It's like that with everything. He's always fine with doing whatever I want. At first, I thought it was a good thing. You know, that we can always go to the places I want and do the things I want to do..."
"But sometimes you want him to lead you?" Jen asked.
"Exactly!" Ashley loudly stated.
Jen nodded. "Honey, he's never going to change."
"He isn't?"
The mom shook her head. "Listen, and you can NEVER repeat this to your father."
"I swear," Ashley stated.
"I still care about your dad," Jen told her, "and I always will, but there were a few signs I look back on and realized I missed. Either that or I just refused to see them when they were right in front of me."
"Like what?" the teen asked. She knew her parents' marriage wasn't exactly smooth sailing. They rarely talked or even made eye contact with each other, but at least they were still together. And that was better than most of her friend's parents who had seemingly all divorced over the past five or so years.
"Dad's a laid back guy," Jen continued. "You know that. He pretty much just goes with the flow. And while that's nice in a lot of aspects, it really sucks in others. When we started dating, he was the same as your boyfriend. Sure, we clicked. Sure, he had his shit together unlike most of the other guys his age, or any age really, but I was always the one taking the lead. And I'm not talking financially. The whole, 'men need to outearn women thing' is nonsense and outdated. That was your grandparents biggest concern when we started dating and especially when we decided to get married. That I wasn't marrying some wealthy guy with a prestigious job."
"I don't care about money," Ashley chimed in after taking another sip of her breakfast. "I plan on being more than capable of supporting myself and I don't expect a guy to provide for me. I'm fine as long as he's doing something to contribute."
Jen pointed her index finger at her daughter. "Exactly! And that's how you should feel. But, there are certain things you can't fight..."
"Like what?"
Jen debated with herself over how to word what she wanted to say. "We're women. And as women, we gravitate toward men who...who...know what they want."
"Know what they want?"
"Yeah," she answered, "men who know what they want. And men who keep us on our toes."
Ashley had a curious look on her face.
"Okay, I'll give you an example," Jen smiled as she noticed her daughter's expression. "Before your father, I dated a guy in college named Bill. Now, Bill was a bit of an asshole."
The teen chuckled.
"He really was," Jen told her. "He cheated on me, I took him back, and then he cheated again. But Bill had some qualities which separated him from almost every man I've ever met."
The two girls each took a sip of their respective drinks before Jen continued.
"He was...really...unique."
"Unique?" Ashley asked.
"Yeah," Jen reiterated, thinking back to those days over twenty years ago, "very unique. Now, Bill was against the idea of gifts, and jewelry, and really spending money on anything. He would buy some stuff but never anything crazy. And that bugged me at first. I would see girls around me getting chocolate and flowers on Valentine's Day, and I'd listen to their stories about how they went out to fancy restaurants and got two thousand dollar necklaces, and it would make me jealous. I thought I was missing out."
"You kinda were...weren't you?"
Jen shook her head with a big smile. "Not at all. Because Bill realized something. He was extremely funny, and fun to be around, and spontaneous, and exciting, and assertive, and the sex was amazing. I just couldn't get enough of him."
Ashley wasn't following.
"And he figured out the game," Jen told her. "Gifts, lavish vacations, and expensive dinners are for guys who need to impress women that way. Those guys don't think they have any other worthwhile qualities so they try to shower their girlfriends and wives with money. And in return, they're looking for love and affection.
"So, what did you guys do for Valentine's Day?"
"He set up a scavenger hunt which started in his dorm, took me to his car, then to my car, then to the campus library, and finally ended in my dorm. Each clue had a little present or something we would only understand because it was an inside joke between the two of us. None of the gifts were expensive, but they were thoughtful. They meant something. And then the last gift...
...
"What, Mom?"
Jen shook her head with a smirk.
Ashley smiled. "You gotta tell me!"
"The last gift," Jen laughed, "was...was a ..."
"Mom! Tell me!"
Jen took a sip of coffee and tried to compose herself. "The last gift was one of those sexy cupid costumes which I wore for him that night..."
"Mom!!" Ashley laughed.
"I know..." Jen chuckled, "but out of every Valentine's Day I've ever
had, that one sticks out to me the most. And it was like that with my
Birthday, and Christmas, and random days too. He always had these fun,
clever things planned. It was so out of the box that every day felt
exciting to be around him. I've had guys spend so much money on me for
dates and gifts and stuff, but the things Bill did are what I still
remember. You know, my friends used to say he was going to ruin me for
the next guy I dated..."
"Did he?"
Jen looked down into her half empty coffee mug. "I wouldn't say he ruined me, but dates and holidays never seemed as fun after him. They consisted of guys doing what I wanted or just doing what they thought they were supposed to do. Instead of going out for my birthday, I'd rather go on some fun hike, have my guy cook me a surprise dinner, and then interrogate him in order to find out where my present is...if you know what I mean..."
"Mom!" Ashley loudly laughed. "Interrogate? You're so bad!"
"I was a bit wilder back in the day," Jen smiled. "Bill brought that out in me."
"And Dad doesn't?"
Jen let out a deep exhale. "I don't know, honey. Not like Bill did. But your dad has some good qualities Bill didn't possess. Like, he doesn't stick his dick in everything with a pulse!"
Ashley laughed.
"And he isn't constantly in debt, and he doesn't turn into an asshole when he's drunk..."
Ashley tried to give her mom a smile but hearing this story was starting to open her eyes. Her mom chose what she thought was a responsible, reliable guy, but still clearly missed the fun and excitement her former boyfriend brought to her life over two decades ago. It was kind of sad to listen to.
"You don't regret marrying Dad, do you?"
Jen took a moment to think before slowly shaking her head. "No...I don't. If I hadn't, I wouldn't have you."
Ashley lovingly smiled at her mom.
"But...I don't know. Sometimes I wish your father had some Bill in him, you know? Listen, honey, the longer you're in a relationship, the more sparks need to fly. That honeymoon phase wears off and then it's just you and him. And if he can't push your buttons six months into dating, what's it going to be like in twenty years?"
The teen finished the last of her breakfast.
"I'm happy I didn't end up with Bill," she told her daughter. "He wasn't a loyal guy and there's no way I would've been able to stay married to a man who was constantly cheating on me. But, at the same time, I often wish your dad had more of a take-charge attitude. That he was the kind of guy who'll just grab my hand and lead me somewhere for an entire afternoon because he suddenly felt like it. If your father wants to do something, it's always planned out. And that isn't fun. I mean, Bill and I did things I never would've imagined doing and I still think about them all these years later. That's the kind of guy you want. Find yourself a creative, fun guy, who knows what he wants, and can make memories with you that will last a lifetime. Because sex drives change, emotions change, jobs change, looks change, but two things don't change. Creativity and an assertive attitude. And those two things will make endless memories. Don't get me wrong, gifts and presents are nice, but real memories are so much more important than diamond bracelets and expensive dinners."
"What was Bill like in bed?" Ashley asked.
Jen smiled before looking down at the table.
"Hey," Ashley remarked, "I thought we discussed everything?"
"Okay, okay," she laughed, "he was...fun. He was unpredictable, and aggressive, and his take-charge attitude carried over into the bedroom. And I honestly didn't realize how important that was until I no longer had it."
"With Dad?"
Jen nodded. "Yeah. Listen, no guy's perfect, and I'm sure your father has a list of thing I do that drives him nuts. Everyone has flaws. I just want you to find a guy who checks off your most important needs. Because, honey, as hard as you'll try, you won't be able to change a guy into the man you want. Bill was a cheater. I tried to change him into a loyal guy, I couldn't, and I eventually had to move on. Loyalty was too high up on my list of needs to sacrifice so I had to give up on him. So, if an assertive, strong guy is high up on your list, then you shouldn't waste your time with a guy who needs to be led."
"I wish Mike was like that," Ashley remarked. "You know, sexually. I always have to be the one to initiate things. Sometimes I wish he would just take control."
Jen took another sip of her coffee.
"You think I need to find a different guy?" the young brunette inquired.
"I would never tell you who to date," Jen told her, "but just really think about the things you want, and whether he's giving them to you or not. If he isn't, find someone who can."
"Oh my God!" Ashley loudly remarked. "Speaking of sex! I can't believe I didn't tell you!"
"Tell me what?" Jen asked.
"Okay, so while I was over at Mr. M's..."
"Mr. M's?" Jen interrupted.
"Yeah, that's Ryan's name," the teen told her mother. "It felt kind of weird calling a guy that much older by his first name, you know?"
Jen nodded. "So, what about him?"
A big smile grew on Ashley's face. "So, I carry one of the boxes labeled 'bedroom' upstairs to his room, I set it down on the floor and open it up, and guess what I see?"
The mom waited.
"Guess," Ashley told her.
"I have no idea," Jen said.
"Come on, Mom," Ashley grinned, "guess."
"Umm... Clothes."
Ashley shook her head.
"Sex related?" Jen asked.
The teen nodded.
"Was it porn?"
Ashley shook her head again.
"I have no idea," she conceded.
Ashley smiled at her mother. "It was full of sex toys."
"Sex toys!?"
"Uh-huh," Ashley nodded. "And not just regular sex toys. Kinky sex toys!"
Jen had an ear-to-ear grin on her face. "Like what?"
"Belts, paddles, blindfolds, leashes, collars, ball gags, rope, handcuffs, and I saw something which looked like nipple clamps."
"How do you know what nipple clamps look like?" Jen laughed.
The teen blushed. "I guess I wouldn't. But, I uh...a few years ago...kind of started reading erotica."
"What!?"
"Yeah," Ashley softly smirked. "Heather shares an Amazon account with her mom and she reads that kind of stuff. Heather ended up downloading some of the books and got into it, I tried reading some of them, and well...I liked it. A lot."
"You do!?" Jen asked, completely surprised.
The young girl nodded.
"What kind?" Jen asked.
"Umm...I uh...I like a lot of the rougher stuff. Do you know what BDSM is?"
Jen's jaw dropped.
"You do!?" Ashley laughed.
"Sweetheart," Jen smiled, "I've read more erotic novels than you could possibly imagine. I'm well versed in the world of BDSM. Well, not in real life, but when it comes to fantasy, I'm an expert. Believe me, if you want, I could give you a long list of recommendations."
"You can!?" Ashley excitedly asked.
"Sure, baby. I..."
Ashley shot out of her seat and hurried to grab her backpack. "Shit! I'm gonna be late! Thanks, Mom!"
"Anytime, honey," Jen smiled as the sound of her daughter's rapid footsteps quickly faded before giving way to the thud of the front door slamming shut.
Jen sat alone at the table and reflected on what her daughter just told her. Ball gags and nipple clamps? Who exactly was this Mr. M?
Chapter 4 – Temptation.
One week later. 8:45PM.
Tom's occasional shift changes had turned into a regular thing over the past week. And as bad as it may sound, Jen kind of liked it. Her husband's 8-4 shift had been replaced with a 2-10, and that resulted in her rarely seeing him these days. And not feeling the slightest bit of sadness over seeing her husband less had to be a sign, right? That things were officially dead?
She'd been thinking more and more about the conversation she had with her daughter last week. Jen finally accepted responsibility for the way things turned out in her life. As much as she loved Tom at the beginning of their relationship, he still lacked the vital qualities she needed. Unfortunately, she wasn't aware of just how important those qualities were at the time. Chalk it up to her youth or blindness of being in love or whatever, but she greatly regretted not being married to someone who had the mentality she desired. And to make matters worse, her sexual lust had only grown since the new neighbor moved in next door. And suddenly every guy at the gym was sexier to her as well. Their muscles looked more defined, their bodies more toned, and their confidence felt stronger. Everywhere she looked she saw men. Real men. Not forty-seven-year-old boys who played video games and ate fast food. She saw men who took care of their bodies, men who spent their time bettering themselves, and men who weren't afraid to tell women exactly what they wanted.
And Jen almost slipped.
It started at the gym three days ago. She was midway through her leg and butt workout when she walked over to the water fountain to get a drink and give her body a few minutes to cool down.
"What are you doing tonight?"
She reached out to grab a paper towel from the dispenser on the wall and wiped the sweat from her forehead. When she turned around, she saw a young man standing behind her. He was a tall, Italian looking, college-aged kid in a tank top and basketball shorts. His arms were chiseled and visible veins were bulging from his biceps and forearms. His shoulders were thick and wide but his body was lean. His face had a sexy, dark scruff and his black hair was wavy and curly. But as good as he looked, the confidence which oozed from him was what grabbed her attention.
"Excuse me?
"What are you doing tonight?" the young stud repeated.
She flashed him a courtesy smile before tossing her paper towel into the garbage can. "Umm...I'll be at home..."
"At home?" he grinned. "That doesn't sound very fun to me."
Jen took a step to her right but it was matched by this young man who continued to stand in front of her. "I'm going to take you out."
She laughed as she looked into his dark, masculine eyes. "You're what?"
"I'm going to take you out," he confidently repeated. "We'll grab a coffee and then go back to my place. Hang out for a while."
She responded by raising her left hand into the air to show him her wedding ring.
"And...?"
"And?" she asked.
"Yeah... And?"
"Umm...I'm married, sweetheart," she smiled before attempting to take another step to her right. He once again matched it.
"Is your husband out there?" he asked while glancing toward the weights.
Jen responded with a chuckle.
"Not a gym guy, huh?" he asked. "How does that work? You work hard to take care of your body but your husband doesn't?"
"We make it work," she answered. She was lying.
The muscular college student grinned at her. "You seem like a real straightforward kind of woman to me. Someone who doesn't have time for games and bullshit. So I'm going to be straightforward with you too."
Jen had a surprised expression on her face as she continued to listen.
"I'm going to give to you whatever you're not getting at home..."
Her jaw dropped.
"And when I'm done with you, you're not going to remember your husband's name."
"You've got some balls, you know that?" Jen laughed.
"Oh," he grinned, "you have no idea..."
Jen took a step back which was matched by a step forward from this younger man. This repeated until she found her back against the wall. The built, college kid was towering over her with his large frame.
"Anthony," he finally introduced himself from only a foot away.
"Jen," she quietly told him. "And I'm old enough to be your mother."
He slowly took in her body with his eyes before peering back at her face. "You don't look like any mom I've ever seen."
She instinctively bit her lip before glancing down at the floor. What was she doing? Why was she tempting herself like this? What good could possibly come from flirting with someone more than twenty years younger than her?
"When was the last time you got what you wanted?" Anthony asked.
"I have everything I need," she answered with her eyes still positioned on the ground. She suddenly felt his presence draw closer as he reached his arm out and pressed it against the wall behind her. He was just inches from her at this point. He had the mom trapped against the wall, but even if he didn't, Jen wasn't going anywhere.
"No," he quietly told her, "I'm talking about what you really want."
Her eyes finally looked up. "And you're gonna give me what I want?"
A confident grin appeared on his face as he lightly shook his head. "No, I'm gonna give you things you had no idea you wanted. Things that never even crossed your mind before."
"And how do you know what I want?"
Anthony smiled. "Every woman wants the same thing, but unfortunately, there aren't a lot of guys out there who can give it to them."
"And what exactly is it I want?" Jen inquired.
The college student leaned in even closer until his mouth was hovering beside her ear. "To get fucked within an inch of your life."
Jen felt a quiver shoot through her body. No one had talked to her like this in over two decades. Fucked within an inch of her life? Who says something like that? Confident guys...that's who. Guys who can actually fuck a girl within an inch of their lives, guys who know exactly what women want, and guys who give it to them. Guys who didn't just get off on their own orgasm, but on what they could make a woman feel. This kid was at least twenty-five years younger than her husband but their vast difference in confidence and self-assurance was staggering. She felt herself wanting to see if he could back up the game he was talking, but every part of her knew that was a bad idea.
She noticed Anthony's hand reach into his pocket before re-emerging with his phone. "Give me your number."
She shook her head. "I don't think so."
"You know what?" he told her, "I'll give you my number."
The mom had a hesitant look on her face.
"Maybe you're not feeling it at the moment," Anthony said, "but that might not be the case two days from now. Just take my number and shoot me a text when you decide it's time for a change in your life."
She slowly retrieved her phone from her yoga pants and handed it to the muscular kid who continued towering above her. He created a contact for himself before giving it back to her.
"Have a fun night, Jen," he told her before making his way toward the locker room.
The second half of her workout was the best of her life.
–-
But as Jen sat on the couch with her Kindle and the TV on in the background, her mind continued to gravitate to that phone number she received three days ago. Anthony was a college kid. He didn't have responsibilities, commitments, or any real concerns. He had one priority just like most college boys did: and that was to fuck. And isn't that what she really needed? Just to be fucked? Whenever she would fantasize about cheating, she always had a big, elaborate event planned in her mind. The guy was going to talk to her a certain way, her fantasies of being tied up and slapped around were going to be second nature to the stud, and she was going to leave his place feeling used but satisfied. But what were the chances of that actually happening? The more she thought about it, the more she imagined it going wrong. What if the sex sucked? Now she was just another cheater who broke her loyalty to her husband for a mediocre fling. What if she didn't feel satisfied when it was over? What if she felt violated and dirty? What if that feeling never went away? What if cheating and fantasizing in the erotica she read was significantly better than cheating in reality? She wanted a connection with someone. She wanted someone she desired on more than just a sexual or physical level. She wanted a man who could get inside her head and make her explore herself. But at this very moment, Jen would settle for a good pounding.
She was going to give it one last shot, and if this didn't work...well, then...she was all out of ideas.
10:17PM.
Jen heard the basement door open just as she expected. Heavy footsteps trudged down the steps as her husband made his way to the couch for another long night of video games. She peered her eyes from the dark corner of the room to watch him plop down in his seat.
The sound of the Xbox powering on quickly filled the room. This was it. This was her Hail Mary attempt. And Anthony's number was going to look a whole lot more appealing if this didn't work.
"Hey, baby."
Tom's head quickly turned as his large body attempted to spin in his seat. "Jen?"
She slowly and sexily emerged from the shadows with a pair of cowgirl boots, ripped blue jean shorts, one of her husband's old plaid shirts which she tied off under her large breasts to expose her stomach, a backwards baseball cap, and a toy shotgun she picked up at Walmart. Jen googled 'Call of Duty cosplay' and copied the sexiest girl she could find. She even completed the costume with fake blood on her waist and light dirt on her cheeks. She was a sexy survivor in some post-apocalyptic wasteland which had been overrun by zombies, and the look in Tom's eyes was one she hadn't seen in a long, long, long time.
"Woah!" he remarked.
She smiled as she slowly strutted in his direction, spinning her plastic shotgun with each and every step she took. "Excuse me, stranger," she shyly said to her husband. "Do you know where a lonely, desperate girl could spend the night?"
"This is no place for a girl like you to be all alone in the dark."
Jen smirked as she made her way closer to the couch. Okay, so this wasn't exactly her fantasy. There weren't going to be leashes, or ball gags, or anything like that, but for the first time in years, Tom appeared to at least be into something she was doing. And if she could get him going this way, maybe he would be more open to exploring her own desires and fantasies.
"Thank you so much," she smiled as she took a seat on her husband's knee. "How could I ever repay you for your generosity?"
"You can get on your knees."
Jen's brain nearly exploded. "What!?"
"Get on your knees."
She eagerly slid off her husband's lap and sank to her knees. 'Get on your knees? Get on your knees!?' He never said anything like that! He was never dominant, or controlling, or demanding at all! Maybe he was changing. Maybe he was changing for her! She quickly unbuckled his pants as Tom struggled to prop his hips up, allowing her to pull them down. A moment later she had his dick in her mouth.
She didn't care that he hadn't trimmed his pubic hair in God knows how long, or that those wheezing noises were back, or that she had to dress in this ridiculous getup to get him going. At this very moment, all she wanted to do was suck someone's cock.
"I'm gonna cum."
Jen pulled her mouth off his penis and looked up at him with a surprised expression. "You're gonna what?"
"Cum..." Tom groaned as a spurt of semen flew from his dick and hit his wife on the cheek.
Jen quickly wrapped her lips around his manhood and allowed the rest to empty inside her mouth. Seconds later, it was over.
Tom slouched back against the couch with an exhausted look on his face. It was like they just had an all-night sex marathon...except they hadn't. Jen had given her husband a blowjob and he lasted twenty seconds, and now his cock was already limp.
She couldn't even swallow his cum. The taste from his awful diet was unbearable. It was so bitter and gross. She picked up a cup from the table next to her and spit into it before wiping her cheek with a napkin. That was it. She spent close to an hour dressing up, going to get that dumb toy shotgun, and finding fake blood...all for twenty seconds. Twenty seconds which had left her unsatisfied and unfulfilled once again. And she could already hear light snores coming from the couch.
"Did he?"
Jen looked down into her half empty coffee mug. "I wouldn't say he ruined me, but dates and holidays never seemed as fun after him. They consisted of guys doing what I wanted or just doing what they thought they were supposed to do. Instead of going out for my birthday, I'd rather go on some fun hike, have my guy cook me a surprise dinner, and then interrogate him in order to find out where my present is...if you know what I mean..."
"Mom!" Ashley loudly laughed. "Interrogate? You're so bad!"
"I was a bit wilder back in the day," Jen smiled. "Bill brought that out in me."
"And Dad doesn't?"
Jen let out a deep exhale. "I don't know, honey. Not like Bill did. But your dad has some good qualities Bill didn't possess. Like, he doesn't stick his dick in everything with a pulse!"
Ashley laughed.
"And he isn't constantly in debt, and he doesn't turn into an asshole when he's drunk..."
Ashley tried to give her mom a smile but hearing this story was starting to open her eyes. Her mom chose what she thought was a responsible, reliable guy, but still clearly missed the fun and excitement her former boyfriend brought to her life over two decades ago. It was kind of sad to listen to.
"You don't regret marrying Dad, do you?"
Jen took a moment to think before slowly shaking her head. "No...I don't. If I hadn't, I wouldn't have you."
Ashley lovingly smiled at her mom.
"But...I don't know. Sometimes I wish your father had some Bill in him, you know? Listen, honey, the longer you're in a relationship, the more sparks need to fly. That honeymoon phase wears off and then it's just you and him. And if he can't push your buttons six months into dating, what's it going to be like in twenty years?"
The teen finished the last of her breakfast.
"I'm happy I didn't end up with Bill," she told her daughter. "He wasn't a loyal guy and there's no way I would've been able to stay married to a man who was constantly cheating on me. But, at the same time, I often wish your dad had more of a take-charge attitude. That he was the kind of guy who'll just grab my hand and lead me somewhere for an entire afternoon because he suddenly felt like it. If your father wants to do something, it's always planned out. And that isn't fun. I mean, Bill and I did things I never would've imagined doing and I still think about them all these years later. That's the kind of guy you want. Find yourself a creative, fun guy, who knows what he wants, and can make memories with you that will last a lifetime. Because sex drives change, emotions change, jobs change, looks change, but two things don't change. Creativity and an assertive attitude. And those two things will make endless memories. Don't get me wrong, gifts and presents are nice, but real memories are so much more important than diamond bracelets and expensive dinners."
"What was Bill like in bed?" Ashley asked.
Jen smiled before looking down at the table.
"Hey," Ashley remarked, "I thought we discussed everything?"
"Okay, okay," she laughed, "he was...fun. He was unpredictable, and aggressive, and his take-charge attitude carried over into the bedroom. And I honestly didn't realize how important that was until I no longer had it."
"With Dad?"
Jen nodded. "Yeah. Listen, no guy's perfect, and I'm sure your father has a list of thing I do that drives him nuts. Everyone has flaws. I just want you to find a guy who checks off your most important needs. Because, honey, as hard as you'll try, you won't be able to change a guy into the man you want. Bill was a cheater. I tried to change him into a loyal guy, I couldn't, and I eventually had to move on. Loyalty was too high up on my list of needs to sacrifice so I had to give up on him. So, if an assertive, strong guy is high up on your list, then you shouldn't waste your time with a guy who needs to be led."
"I wish Mike was like that," Ashley remarked. "You know, sexually. I always have to be the one to initiate things. Sometimes I wish he would just take control."
Jen took another sip of her coffee.
"You think I need to find a different guy?" the young brunette inquired.
"I would never tell you who to date," Jen told her, "but just really think about the things you want, and whether he's giving them to you or not. If he isn't, find someone who can."
"Oh my God!" Ashley loudly remarked. "Speaking of sex! I can't believe I didn't tell you!"
"Tell me what?" Jen asked.
"Okay, so while I was over at Mr. M's..."
"Mr. M's?" Jen interrupted.
"Yeah, that's Ryan's name," the teen told her mother. "It felt kind of weird calling a guy that much older by his first name, you know?"
Jen nodded. "So, what about him?"
A big smile grew on Ashley's face. "So, I carry one of the boxes labeled 'bedroom' upstairs to his room, I set it down on the floor and open it up, and guess what I see?"
The mom waited.
"Guess," Ashley told her.
"I have no idea," Jen said.
"Come on, Mom," Ashley grinned, "guess."
"Umm... Clothes."
Ashley shook her head.
"Sex related?" Jen asked.
The teen nodded.
"Was it porn?"
Ashley shook her head again.
"I have no idea," she conceded.
Ashley smiled at her mother. "It was full of sex toys."
"Sex toys!?"
"Uh-huh," Ashley nodded. "And not just regular sex toys. Kinky sex toys!"
Jen had an ear-to-ear grin on her face. "Like what?"
"Belts, paddles, blindfolds, leashes, collars, ball gags, rope, handcuffs, and I saw something which looked like nipple clamps."
"How do you know what nipple clamps look like?" Jen laughed.
The teen blushed. "I guess I wouldn't. But, I uh...a few years ago...kind of started reading erotica."
"What!?"
"Yeah," Ashley softly smirked. "Heather shares an Amazon account with her mom and she reads that kind of stuff. Heather ended up downloading some of the books and got into it, I tried reading some of them, and well...I liked it. A lot."
"You do!?" Jen asked, completely surprised.
The young girl nodded.
"What kind?" Jen asked.
"Umm...I uh...I like a lot of the rougher stuff. Do you know what BDSM is?"
Jen's jaw dropped.
"You do!?" Ashley laughed.
"Sweetheart," Jen smiled, "I've read more erotic novels than you could possibly imagine. I'm well versed in the world of BDSM. Well, not in real life, but when it comes to fantasy, I'm an expert. Believe me, if you want, I could give you a long list of recommendations."
"You can!?" Ashley excitedly asked.
"Sure, baby. I..."
Ashley shot out of her seat and hurried to grab her backpack. "Shit! I'm gonna be late! Thanks, Mom!"
"Anytime, honey," Jen smiled as the sound of her daughter's rapid footsteps quickly faded before giving way to the thud of the front door slamming shut.
Jen sat alone at the table and reflected on what her daughter just told her. Ball gags and nipple clamps? Who exactly was this Mr. M?
Chapter 4 – Temptation.
One week later. 8:45PM.
Tom's occasional shift changes had turned into a regular thing over the past week. And as bad as it may sound, Jen kind of liked it. Her husband's 8-4 shift had been replaced with a 2-10, and that resulted in her rarely seeing him these days. And not feeling the slightest bit of sadness over seeing her husband less had to be a sign, right? That things were officially dead?
She'd been thinking more and more about the conversation she had with her daughter last week. Jen finally accepted responsibility for the way things turned out in her life. As much as she loved Tom at the beginning of their relationship, he still lacked the vital qualities she needed. Unfortunately, she wasn't aware of just how important those qualities were at the time. Chalk it up to her youth or blindness of being in love or whatever, but she greatly regretted not being married to someone who had the mentality she desired. And to make matters worse, her sexual lust had only grown since the new neighbor moved in next door. And suddenly every guy at the gym was sexier to her as well. Their muscles looked more defined, their bodies more toned, and their confidence felt stronger. Everywhere she looked she saw men. Real men. Not forty-seven-year-old boys who played video games and ate fast food. She saw men who took care of their bodies, men who spent their time bettering themselves, and men who weren't afraid to tell women exactly what they wanted.
And Jen almost slipped.
It started at the gym three days ago. She was midway through her leg and butt workout when she walked over to the water fountain to get a drink and give her body a few minutes to cool down.
"What are you doing tonight?"
She reached out to grab a paper towel from the dispenser on the wall and wiped the sweat from her forehead. When she turned around, she saw a young man standing behind her. He was a tall, Italian looking, college-aged kid in a tank top and basketball shorts. His arms were chiseled and visible veins were bulging from his biceps and forearms. His shoulders were thick and wide but his body was lean. His face had a sexy, dark scruff and his black hair was wavy and curly. But as good as he looked, the confidence which oozed from him was what grabbed her attention.
"Excuse me?
"What are you doing tonight?" the young stud repeated.
She flashed him a courtesy smile before tossing her paper towel into the garbage can. "Umm...I'll be at home..."
"At home?" he grinned. "That doesn't sound very fun to me."
Jen took a step to her right but it was matched by this young man who continued to stand in front of her. "I'm going to take you out."
She laughed as she looked into his dark, masculine eyes. "You're what?"
"I'm going to take you out," he confidently repeated. "We'll grab a coffee and then go back to my place. Hang out for a while."
She responded by raising her left hand into the air to show him her wedding ring.
"And...?"
"And?" she asked.
"Yeah... And?"
"Umm...I'm married, sweetheart," she smiled before attempting to take another step to her right. He once again matched it.
"Is your husband out there?" he asked while glancing toward the weights.
Jen responded with a chuckle.
"Not a gym guy, huh?" he asked. "How does that work? You work hard to take care of your body but your husband doesn't?"
"We make it work," she answered. She was lying.
The muscular college student grinned at her. "You seem like a real straightforward kind of woman to me. Someone who doesn't have time for games and bullshit. So I'm going to be straightforward with you too."
Jen had a surprised expression on her face as she continued to listen.
"I'm going to give to you whatever you're not getting at home..."
Her jaw dropped.
"And when I'm done with you, you're not going to remember your husband's name."
"You've got some balls, you know that?" Jen laughed.
"Oh," he grinned, "you have no idea..."
Jen took a step back which was matched by a step forward from this younger man. This repeated until she found her back against the wall. The built, college kid was towering over her with his large frame.
"Anthony," he finally introduced himself from only a foot away.
"Jen," she quietly told him. "And I'm old enough to be your mother."
He slowly took in her body with his eyes before peering back at her face. "You don't look like any mom I've ever seen."
She instinctively bit her lip before glancing down at the floor. What was she doing? Why was she tempting herself like this? What good could possibly come from flirting with someone more than twenty years younger than her?
"When was the last time you got what you wanted?" Anthony asked.
"I have everything I need," she answered with her eyes still positioned on the ground. She suddenly felt his presence draw closer as he reached his arm out and pressed it against the wall behind her. He was just inches from her at this point. He had the mom trapped against the wall, but even if he didn't, Jen wasn't going anywhere.
"No," he quietly told her, "I'm talking about what you really want."
Her eyes finally looked up. "And you're gonna give me what I want?"
A confident grin appeared on his face as he lightly shook his head. "No, I'm gonna give you things you had no idea you wanted. Things that never even crossed your mind before."
"And how do you know what I want?"
Anthony smiled. "Every woman wants the same thing, but unfortunately, there aren't a lot of guys out there who can give it to them."
"And what exactly is it I want?" Jen inquired.
The college student leaned in even closer until his mouth was hovering beside her ear. "To get fucked within an inch of your life."
Jen felt a quiver shoot through her body. No one had talked to her like this in over two decades. Fucked within an inch of her life? Who says something like that? Confident guys...that's who. Guys who can actually fuck a girl within an inch of their lives, guys who know exactly what women want, and guys who give it to them. Guys who didn't just get off on their own orgasm, but on what they could make a woman feel. This kid was at least twenty-five years younger than her husband but their vast difference in confidence and self-assurance was staggering. She felt herself wanting to see if he could back up the game he was talking, but every part of her knew that was a bad idea.
She noticed Anthony's hand reach into his pocket before re-emerging with his phone. "Give me your number."
She shook her head. "I don't think so."
"You know what?" he told her, "I'll give you my number."
The mom had a hesitant look on her face.
"Maybe you're not feeling it at the moment," Anthony said, "but that might not be the case two days from now. Just take my number and shoot me a text when you decide it's time for a change in your life."
She slowly retrieved her phone from her yoga pants and handed it to the muscular kid who continued towering above her. He created a contact for himself before giving it back to her.
"Have a fun night, Jen," he told her before making his way toward the locker room.
The second half of her workout was the best of her life.
–-
But as Jen sat on the couch with her Kindle and the TV on in the background, her mind continued to gravitate to that phone number she received three days ago. Anthony was a college kid. He didn't have responsibilities, commitments, or any real concerns. He had one priority just like most college boys did: and that was to fuck. And isn't that what she really needed? Just to be fucked? Whenever she would fantasize about cheating, she always had a big, elaborate event planned in her mind. The guy was going to talk to her a certain way, her fantasies of being tied up and slapped around were going to be second nature to the stud, and she was going to leave his place feeling used but satisfied. But what were the chances of that actually happening? The more she thought about it, the more she imagined it going wrong. What if the sex sucked? Now she was just another cheater who broke her loyalty to her husband for a mediocre fling. What if she didn't feel satisfied when it was over? What if she felt violated and dirty? What if that feeling never went away? What if cheating and fantasizing in the erotica she read was significantly better than cheating in reality? She wanted a connection with someone. She wanted someone she desired on more than just a sexual or physical level. She wanted a man who could get inside her head and make her explore herself. But at this very moment, Jen would settle for a good pounding.
She was going to give it one last shot, and if this didn't work...well, then...she was all out of ideas.
10:17PM.
Jen heard the basement door open just as she expected. Heavy footsteps trudged down the steps as her husband made his way to the couch for another long night of video games. She peered her eyes from the dark corner of the room to watch him plop down in his seat.
The sound of the Xbox powering on quickly filled the room. This was it. This was her Hail Mary attempt. And Anthony's number was going to look a whole lot more appealing if this didn't work.
"Hey, baby."
Tom's head quickly turned as his large body attempted to spin in his seat. "Jen?"
She slowly and sexily emerged from the shadows with a pair of cowgirl boots, ripped blue jean shorts, one of her husband's old plaid shirts which she tied off under her large breasts to expose her stomach, a backwards baseball cap, and a toy shotgun she picked up at Walmart. Jen googled 'Call of Duty cosplay' and copied the sexiest girl she could find. She even completed the costume with fake blood on her waist and light dirt on her cheeks. She was a sexy survivor in some post-apocalyptic wasteland which had been overrun by zombies, and the look in Tom's eyes was one she hadn't seen in a long, long, long time.
"Woah!" he remarked.
She smiled as she slowly strutted in his direction, spinning her plastic shotgun with each and every step she took. "Excuse me, stranger," she shyly said to her husband. "Do you know where a lonely, desperate girl could spend the night?"
"This is no place for a girl like you to be all alone in the dark."
Jen smirked as she made her way closer to the couch. Okay, so this wasn't exactly her fantasy. There weren't going to be leashes, or ball gags, or anything like that, but for the first time in years, Tom appeared to at least be into something she was doing. And if she could get him going this way, maybe he would be more open to exploring her own desires and fantasies.
"Thank you so much," she smiled as she took a seat on her husband's knee. "How could I ever repay you for your generosity?"
"You can get on your knees."
Jen's brain nearly exploded. "What!?"
"Get on your knees."
She eagerly slid off her husband's lap and sank to her knees. 'Get on your knees? Get on your knees!?' He never said anything like that! He was never dominant, or controlling, or demanding at all! Maybe he was changing. Maybe he was changing for her! She quickly unbuckled his pants as Tom struggled to prop his hips up, allowing her to pull them down. A moment later she had his dick in her mouth.
She didn't care that he hadn't trimmed his pubic hair in God knows how long, or that those wheezing noises were back, or that she had to dress in this ridiculous getup to get him going. At this very moment, all she wanted to do was suck someone's cock.
"I'm gonna cum."
Jen pulled her mouth off his penis and looked up at him with a surprised expression. "You're gonna what?"
"Cum..." Tom groaned as a spurt of semen flew from his dick and hit his wife on the cheek.
Jen quickly wrapped her lips around his manhood and allowed the rest to empty inside her mouth. Seconds later, it was over.
Tom slouched back against the couch with an exhausted look on his face. It was like they just had an all-night sex marathon...except they hadn't. Jen had given her husband a blowjob and he lasted twenty seconds, and now his cock was already limp.
She couldn't even swallow his cum. The taste from his awful diet was unbearable. It was so bitter and gross. She picked up a cup from the table next to her and spit into it before wiping her cheek with a napkin. That was it. She spent close to an hour dressing up, going to get that dumb toy shotgun, and finding fake blood...all for twenty seconds. Twenty seconds which had left her unsatisfied and unfulfilled once again. And she could already hear light snores coming from the couch.
She couldn't do this anymore. She had to look elsewhere. Jen marched up
the stairs and headed toward her room. She didn't even get out of her
costume before pulling out her phone and finding Anthony on her contact
list. She took a deep breath and texted him from her seat on her marital
bed.
"Hey."
She hit send.
What was her game plan? Actually, she didn't have one. And that's what made this so exciting. For the first time in over twenty years, there was an opportunity for a man to lead her. She had no idea how Anthony would respond. Hell, maybe he wouldn't respond at all. Maybe he hit on dozens of girls every day and their interaction at the gym wasn't anything special for him. But she wasn't looking for an emotional connection from him. She wasn't going to get that from some early twenties musclehead at the gym. She just wanted to feel sexually satisfied for the first time in God knows how long. And part of her wanted to feel wanted. Nothing Tom did made her feel sexy or desired, but the way Anthony approached her at the gym made her feel special. She wanted more of that.
Her phone buzzed.
"Hey, Jen."
Now what? Was it on her? Did she have to steer the conversation in the direction she wanted? Did she have...
Her phone buzzed again.
"Send me something sexy."
Her face lit up before suddenly growing serious. Shit! Cell phones barely existed the last time she was in a situation like this! This kid was used to girls his age who grew up flirting with phones and the internet.
Send him something sexy...send him something sexy...think, think...
Jen started typing...
"I guess it all depends on what you find sexy..."
Send.
Is that flirty? Or smooth? Or anything? Girl, you're so in over your head!
Her phone buzzed.
"You can start with that perfect ass of yours."
She let out an audible gasp. Perfect ass? When was the last time Tom complimented her body? She wasn't needy but every girl likes to feel appreciated. She worked so hard to stay in shape and sometimes she wondered what exactly she was doing it for. But, this simple validation made all those hours of hard work and all those times she passed on pizza for a salad worth it.
Should I send a picture of my butt in jeans? Or maybe in yoga pants? I do love how my butt looks in them. Or...no...well, maybe in a thong? Or is that too much? You know who would know...
Jen immediately laughed at herself. Had she really just considered that? Had she really considered asking her daughter for advice on how to flirt via texting? She really was a dumbass sometimes. She slid off the bed and walked over to her dresser where she collected a black thong, black yoga pants, and a pair of red boyshorts before making her way to the upstairs bathroom. She needed plenty of options.
Five minutes later she was standing in front of the bathroom mirror, completely clean of the fake blood and dirt she'd gone out of her way to wear for Tom. She felt just as ridiculous scrubbing it off as she had putting it on. And it was all for for nothing. But enough about Tom. Tonight was going to be about her. She picked up her phone and started typing again.
"Option 1, 2, or 3..."
Send.
She loved how flirty she felt. Maybe attention was all she needed. Maybe she didn't actually have to go through with anything, but some validation once in a while would make up for what she wasn't getting at home. Maybe...
Her phone buzzed on the bathroom counter.
"Option 4."
Jen furrowed her brow with a smile and began typing.
"What's option 4?"
Send.
Her phone immediately buzzed.
"Your sexy ass in a thong... With my name written on it."
Jen smiled. There wasn't any hesitation or debating. Not for a single second. She quickly changed out of her costume and slid on her black thong. That was all she was wearing. She dug through her makeup bag, found her red lipstick, and turned her body so she could see her reflection in the mirror. Forty seconds later she had some college kid's name written on her ass, and for the first time in two decades, Jen felt owned. She felt like she belonged to someone. Anthony was probably just some asshole kid who had dozens of girls do this for him, but that only egged her on. She wanted to outdo all those other girls. She wanted him to be thinking about her and not those twenty-year-old coeds with their perfect, perky bodies. She looked just as good as any of those girls so why couldn't she feel as good as they did? If a hot little college girl was stuck in a bad relationship, she would leave it. But for some reason, Jen refused to do just that. She wasn't ready to leave yet. No, but at this very moment, Jen was ready to cheat.
She went to her camera and hit the forward facing button before finding the perfect position in the mirror. She looked good. Real good. Her ass was tight and toned but she wasn't a stick figure. She had some meat on her bones. And guys like that. But she didn't neglect the rest of her body at the gym either. She could see how good her back and shoulders appeared but she made sure to cover the side of her right breast with her arm. There's nothing wrong with keeping this kid wanting more...
She found the perfect angle with her back turned to the bathroom mirror at a slight angle, excluded her face from being captured, and took the picture.
Something didn't feel right.
Do something more. How many girls have sent him a picture like this? Stand out. Be memorable.
She switched the camera to video mode, raised it over her shoulder so it was recording the reflection in the mirror once again, and began twerking.
This wasn't her first time attempting to twerk. Years ago, one of the younger girls at work told her how she started doing it for her boyfriend and how it drove him crazy. So, like many things over the years, Jen ran home thinking she found the answer to her dead bedroom problem. She tried twerking for Tom but it didn't do anything. In fact, he seemed turned off by the entire situation when he told her to stop acting like a tramp. But Jen didn't care anymore. Tonight, she was going to be a tramp. Tonight, she was going to twerk her ass in the mirror with some college stud's name written on it. Tonight, she wanted to be bad.
She stopped the recording and watched the video back. A big smile formed on her face. She looked amazing. All of those hours doing squats and reverse hip raises had done wonders on her backside. And as she watched her toned, sizable cheeks bounce around in the video, she felt on top of the world. The word 'Anthony' was jumping around with every movement and that turned her on even more. Just like Bill back in her college days, this kid had gotten her to push her limits. He created a memory for her. She was never going to forget the time she wrote a college boy's name on her butt and recorded herself twerking in the mirror while wearing a thong. She added the video to their text conversation and sent it.
A minute later her phone vibrated.
"Good girl."
Jen wanted to fuck this kid's brains out. She wanted to gag on his cock. She wanted him to record it all and show it to his buddies. She wanted them to see how naughty she was. What is was like to be with a hungry, sexually deprived older woman. She wanted to be everything those little college girls weren't.
Her phone buzzed again.
"4033 Deer Meadow Ave. Apt 3C."
She went to the maps app on her phone. He lived eleven minutes away. She lived eleven minutes from her fantasy. She lived eleven minutes from a dominant, aggressive, sexy, muscular, young stud who could give her exactly what she needed. But instead of getting dressed and telling her husband she had to go to her parent's house for a while, she held the power button down on her phone, slid her finger to the right on the screen, and shut it off.
For the six thousandth consecutive night, Jen went to bed frustrated.
Chapter 5 – Cleaning Service.
5:45AM the following morning.
Jen had been staring at her bedroom ceiling for hours. It was slightly illuminated from the moonlight penetrating through the window, but she would've been up regardless of how much light was coming in. She figured out the problem. She was a wimp.
Women left marriages all the time for small things. Little fights and minor turn-offs resulted in brutal divorces on a regular basis throughout the world. Yet, here she was, not having been sexually satisfied in seventeen years, but afraid to leave her marriage for some reason. It wasn't her morals. If it was, she wouldn't have flirted with Anthony last night. She was afraid. She was afraid of the unknown. Afraid of having to start a new life all on her own. Her husband wasn't very reliable; but he was still there. And having someone is better than no one, right? And what about Ashley? Jen's parents divorced when she was twelve years old and it devastated her. She made a promise to herself that she would never do that to her own child. All she wanted was to roll over and snuggle into the arms of a strong man. Into the arms of a man who loved and cherished her. Someone who she still craved emotionally, mentally, and physically. But when she looked over to her left, the spot on the bed was empty. Tom had fallen asleep in the basement instead of coming up to bed. She wasn't going to leave him. She knew that. So she had to accept her situation for what it was and stop feeling sorry for herself. Jen closed her eyes and attempted to fall asleep.
Later that same day. 5:15PM.
Jen was standing at the kitchen counter, chopping up celery for the soup she was making when suddenly two firm, strong hands roughly slammed down on the granite countertop to her sides. She felt a body lean in and gently press against her back as a pair of warm lips softly caressed her neck.
"How was your day, sexy?"
Her face lit up as she continued slicing vegetables on the wooden cutting board. Those arms which had been to her sides were now making their way along her body. They started with her shoulders before moving down to her hips and ending with her butt. That was the norm in her marriage. Even after twenty years, her husband couldn't keep his hands off her ass.
She smiled as she watched those hands regain their place on the counter. Her husband was leaning into her again, his bulge poking against her backside. It was 5:16 PM and he was ready to go. Just like he always was. Day or night, summer or winter, sickness or in health...he just couldn't get enough of her. She finally set the sharp knife down on the table and spun to face her spouse. When she did, she felt two hands grab her butt and propel her body into the air. Her hubby picked her up and was now carrying her toward the bedroom, making out with her the entire way.
Dinner could wait. Ashley would understand. She was well used to the way her parents were by this point. Mom and Dad just couldn't keep their hands off each other and the cute teen thought it was romantic. She grew up dreaming of meeting a man who would one day treat her the way Dad treated Mom.
Jen landed on the bed and immediately felt her yoga pants and panties yanked down. Seconds later her husband had his head in his favorite spot. And when she reached out and grabbed a handful of his thick, luscious hair, a deep, powerful voice resonated through the bedroom.
"I heard someone's been a bad girl."
She smiled as she pulled his face back into her vagina, letting his wet tongue flow over her throbbing clit. "I can't help it, Daddy."
The feeling of pleasure vanished as she opened her eyes. There she saw her man kneeling on the bed, slowly unbuckling the belt from his dress pants. Her heart raced while she watched it slide from the loops and hang from his masculine hand.
"On all fours...slut."
Jen obediently obeyed the order and eagerly waited for her husband to do what he did best. And that was to make her fantasies a reality. Every week there was something new and different. Different places, different scenarios, different toys, different head games...but some things stayed the same. Like the way he made her feel. She felt vulnerable yet completely protected at the same time. She knew her man would take care of her, but she had no idea how far he was going to push her. It was that constant excitement which drove her crazy. And when she felt his leather belt slowly drop around her neck, she knew she was going to be in for it. She braced herself. Three...two...one...
It tightened.
The brunette tried to breathe but couldn't. She felt her husband's thick, fat cock stretch her tight pussy as her head was firmly yanked back by the leash around her neck. She could see her hubby's gorgeous face hovering over her as the pounding increased in ferocity. A long string of spit fell from her man's mouth and she eagerly parted her lips to accept it. Every fluid, every body part, every single ounce of her husband was a treasure. She just wanted more. And as the hammering continued, she felt the world around her start to darken. She was being choked so tightly and fucked so roughly that the room began to spin. It was like watching clothes in a washing machine. Around and around and around they went. Everything spinning...and spinning...and spinning...
Buzz.
The load of laundry was done as Jen opened the washing machine door and piled the wet clothes into a basket. She laughed to herself as she realized what had happened. She'd actually fantasized about being married to a completely different man, who fucked her properly, all from staring at a washing machine. She was going crazy...
She tossed the garments into the dryer and headed back upstairs. She'd yet to check in on Ashley. Today was day one of her weekly cleaning job at Ryan's house and she still couldn't believe that girl was being paid to clean. She could barely find a passable route through her daughter's room most of the time. There were clothes, and bags, and boxes scattered everywhere, but maybe cleaning for someone else would be different. Maybe it would be good for her. Jen pulled out her phone and texted her daughter.
"Everything good?"
Send.
Seconds later she heard the unmistakable sound of a text message being received in the kitchen. She curiously wandered into the room and saw a green case face down on the counter. Her daughter had forgotten her phone.
You know everything's fine. Just relax. Ashley is a grown woman and can take care of herself. Stop being overprotective.
But she had to be overprotective. Who would look out for Ashley if she didn't? Certainly not Tom. She grabbed her daughter's phone, slid it into her pocket, put on her fleece, and headed out the front door. It was chilly on this early November evening. Not cold, but chilly. The snowstorm prediction wasn't accurate but the sun was already beginning to go down despite the fact daylight savings wasn't until tomorrow. She journeyed across the grass and to her neighbor's front door before ringing the bell.
The door opened.
"Hi, Ryan."
"Hey, Jen," the tall, handsome businessman answered. "Come on in."
She smiled as she walked into the house and slipped off her shoes on the entryway rug. "Wow! Look at this place!"
"Yeah, it's coming along," Ryan said as he shut the door behind her. "Thanks to your daughter..."
Jen smiled again as she watched her neighbor stroll back to the kitchen table in his black dress pants and partially unbuttoned light blue dress shirt with the sleeves rolled hallway up his arms. There was a cup of either coffee or tea on the oak surface next to an open newspaper.
"Tea?" he asked.
She shook her head. "No thanks, I'm good. Where's Ashley? She left her phone at home."
Ryan shrugged his shoulders as he took a seat. "She's around here somewhere," he told her before raising the newspaper up and resuming his reading.
She gave him a curious glance before slowly heading toward the hallway. There were paintings on the walls and a very nice table in the passageway. It didn't look overly expensive, but it was classy. Tasteful, if you will. She promptly found herself in the living room where she was met by gorgeous leather furniture and a large television in the middle of a beautiful entertainment center. Everything looked clean and presentable. Maybe Ashley was actually doing a good job. Maybe her daughter had a knack for cleaning which she was unaware of.
"Hey, Mom."
Jen turned around with a smile at the sound of her daughter's voice. But then her jaw immediately dropped.
Ashley strutted into the room in a black french maid outfit which looked fitted for a girl half her size. The black one-piece ended in a mini skirt which had white lacing along the bottom of it. It barely covered her butt and left plenty of skin between the fishnet stockings she was wearing which ran up to her mid-thighs. Her black high heels cracked with each step on the hardwood floor and the cute white and black headpiece she had in her brunette hair bounced with every stride. Just like her mother, Ashley had an impressive bust which was on full display at the moment. The top of the one-piece came down low enough to leave the upper-half of her breasts exposed.
Jen couldn't believe what she was looking at. Ashley's hands were both covered by fingerless, white lace gloves, and she was carrying around a feather duster. She began cleaning around the television like nothing was going on.
"Ashley..."
The teen stopped and turned to her mother.
"What are you wearing?"
"It's my cleaning outfit," the girl smiled.
Jen was trying to control herself. "Did Ryan make you put that on?"
Ashley quickly shook her head. "No."
"So, why are you wearing it?" she calmly asked. She could feel her blood pressure continuing to rise.
"He told me there was a cleaning outfit in his closet. He didn't make me put it on or anything."
"So, why are you wearing it?" Jen repeated.
The teen looked off to the side. "Because it makes me feel sexy..."
"Go change."
"But, Mommmmmm..." the girl whined.
"Go change!" she loudly repeated.
She watched her daughter storm toward the stairs and ascend the steps. Her hands started to shake. She was on the verge of losing it. Jen took a deep breath and hustled down the hallway, back into the kitchen.
"What the hell is that!?"
Ryan looked up from his paper with a curious expression.
"Seriously?" Jen furiously asked. "Like you don't know what I'm talking about?"
The neighbor gave her a dismissive look before turning his attention back to the newspaper.
"Hey, dickhead!" Jen snapped.
He didn't react.
She stormed over to the table and yanked his newspaper down. "Hey! I'm talking to you!"
Ryan just stared at her.
"Why did you make my daughter dress up like some kind of whore?"
"I didn't make her do anything," he responded before raising the paper back to eye level.
"She's a child," Jen informed him.
"No, she's not. She's eighteen. She's a woman."
"You're a predator," Jen told him. "You're probably thirty years older than her, you disgusting pig..."
Ryan lightly chuckled to himself as his eyes continued to descend the newspaper column he was reading.
"When my..." Jen cut herself off. 'When my husband finds out about this,' is what she really wanted to say. Yeah, she could say it. Tom would have to freak out about this. He wasn't passionate about too many things these days, but what father isn't protective over their own daughter? Especially when they were dressed the way Ashley was!
"When my husband finds out about this, he's going to lose his shit!"
Ryan's eyes didn't leave his newspaper.
"Do you get off on this?" Jen continued to berate him. "Paying teenagers to clean your house for you while they dress like little sluts? You sicken me! You wealthy assholes are all the same! Thinking you can do whatever you want as long as you pay people! Well, guess what, Ryan? My daughter isn't for sale!"
"Hey."
She hit send.
What was her game plan? Actually, she didn't have one. And that's what made this so exciting. For the first time in over twenty years, there was an opportunity for a man to lead her. She had no idea how Anthony would respond. Hell, maybe he wouldn't respond at all. Maybe he hit on dozens of girls every day and their interaction at the gym wasn't anything special for him. But she wasn't looking for an emotional connection from him. She wasn't going to get that from some early twenties musclehead at the gym. She just wanted to feel sexually satisfied for the first time in God knows how long. And part of her wanted to feel wanted. Nothing Tom did made her feel sexy or desired, but the way Anthony approached her at the gym made her feel special. She wanted more of that.
Her phone buzzed.
"Hey, Jen."
Now what? Was it on her? Did she have to steer the conversation in the direction she wanted? Did she have...
Her phone buzzed again.
"Send me something sexy."
Her face lit up before suddenly growing serious. Shit! Cell phones barely existed the last time she was in a situation like this! This kid was used to girls his age who grew up flirting with phones and the internet.
Send him something sexy...send him something sexy...think, think...
Jen started typing...
"I guess it all depends on what you find sexy..."
Send.
Is that flirty? Or smooth? Or anything? Girl, you're so in over your head!
Her phone buzzed.
"You can start with that perfect ass of yours."
She let out an audible gasp. Perfect ass? When was the last time Tom complimented her body? She wasn't needy but every girl likes to feel appreciated. She worked so hard to stay in shape and sometimes she wondered what exactly she was doing it for. But, this simple validation made all those hours of hard work and all those times she passed on pizza for a salad worth it.
Should I send a picture of my butt in jeans? Or maybe in yoga pants? I do love how my butt looks in them. Or...no...well, maybe in a thong? Or is that too much? You know who would know...
Jen immediately laughed at herself. Had she really just considered that? Had she really considered asking her daughter for advice on how to flirt via texting? She really was a dumbass sometimes. She slid off the bed and walked over to her dresser where she collected a black thong, black yoga pants, and a pair of red boyshorts before making her way to the upstairs bathroom. She needed plenty of options.
Five minutes later she was standing in front of the bathroom mirror, completely clean of the fake blood and dirt she'd gone out of her way to wear for Tom. She felt just as ridiculous scrubbing it off as she had putting it on. And it was all for for nothing. But enough about Tom. Tonight was going to be about her. She picked up her phone and started typing again.
"Option 1, 2, or 3..."
Send.
She loved how flirty she felt. Maybe attention was all she needed. Maybe she didn't actually have to go through with anything, but some validation once in a while would make up for what she wasn't getting at home. Maybe...
Her phone buzzed on the bathroom counter.
"Option 4."
Jen furrowed her brow with a smile and began typing.
"What's option 4?"
Send.
Her phone immediately buzzed.
"Your sexy ass in a thong... With my name written on it."
Jen smiled. There wasn't any hesitation or debating. Not for a single second. She quickly changed out of her costume and slid on her black thong. That was all she was wearing. She dug through her makeup bag, found her red lipstick, and turned her body so she could see her reflection in the mirror. Forty seconds later she had some college kid's name written on her ass, and for the first time in two decades, Jen felt owned. She felt like she belonged to someone. Anthony was probably just some asshole kid who had dozens of girls do this for him, but that only egged her on. She wanted to outdo all those other girls. She wanted him to be thinking about her and not those twenty-year-old coeds with their perfect, perky bodies. She looked just as good as any of those girls so why couldn't she feel as good as they did? If a hot little college girl was stuck in a bad relationship, she would leave it. But for some reason, Jen refused to do just that. She wasn't ready to leave yet. No, but at this very moment, Jen was ready to cheat.
She went to her camera and hit the forward facing button before finding the perfect position in the mirror. She looked good. Real good. Her ass was tight and toned but she wasn't a stick figure. She had some meat on her bones. And guys like that. But she didn't neglect the rest of her body at the gym either. She could see how good her back and shoulders appeared but she made sure to cover the side of her right breast with her arm. There's nothing wrong with keeping this kid wanting more...
She found the perfect angle with her back turned to the bathroom mirror at a slight angle, excluded her face from being captured, and took the picture.
Something didn't feel right.
Do something more. How many girls have sent him a picture like this? Stand out. Be memorable.
She switched the camera to video mode, raised it over her shoulder so it was recording the reflection in the mirror once again, and began twerking.
This wasn't her first time attempting to twerk. Years ago, one of the younger girls at work told her how she started doing it for her boyfriend and how it drove him crazy. So, like many things over the years, Jen ran home thinking she found the answer to her dead bedroom problem. She tried twerking for Tom but it didn't do anything. In fact, he seemed turned off by the entire situation when he told her to stop acting like a tramp. But Jen didn't care anymore. Tonight, she was going to be a tramp. Tonight, she was going to twerk her ass in the mirror with some college stud's name written on it. Tonight, she wanted to be bad.
She stopped the recording and watched the video back. A big smile formed on her face. She looked amazing. All of those hours doing squats and reverse hip raises had done wonders on her backside. And as she watched her toned, sizable cheeks bounce around in the video, she felt on top of the world. The word 'Anthony' was jumping around with every movement and that turned her on even more. Just like Bill back in her college days, this kid had gotten her to push her limits. He created a memory for her. She was never going to forget the time she wrote a college boy's name on her butt and recorded herself twerking in the mirror while wearing a thong. She added the video to their text conversation and sent it.
A minute later her phone vibrated.
"Good girl."
Jen wanted to fuck this kid's brains out. She wanted to gag on his cock. She wanted him to record it all and show it to his buddies. She wanted them to see how naughty she was. What is was like to be with a hungry, sexually deprived older woman. She wanted to be everything those little college girls weren't.
Her phone buzzed again.
"4033 Deer Meadow Ave. Apt 3C."
She went to the maps app on her phone. He lived eleven minutes away. She lived eleven minutes from her fantasy. She lived eleven minutes from a dominant, aggressive, sexy, muscular, young stud who could give her exactly what she needed. But instead of getting dressed and telling her husband she had to go to her parent's house for a while, she held the power button down on her phone, slid her finger to the right on the screen, and shut it off.
For the six thousandth consecutive night, Jen went to bed frustrated.
Chapter 5 – Cleaning Service.
5:45AM the following morning.
Jen had been staring at her bedroom ceiling for hours. It was slightly illuminated from the moonlight penetrating through the window, but she would've been up regardless of how much light was coming in. She figured out the problem. She was a wimp.
Women left marriages all the time for small things. Little fights and minor turn-offs resulted in brutal divorces on a regular basis throughout the world. Yet, here she was, not having been sexually satisfied in seventeen years, but afraid to leave her marriage for some reason. It wasn't her morals. If it was, she wouldn't have flirted with Anthony last night. She was afraid. She was afraid of the unknown. Afraid of having to start a new life all on her own. Her husband wasn't very reliable; but he was still there. And having someone is better than no one, right? And what about Ashley? Jen's parents divorced when she was twelve years old and it devastated her. She made a promise to herself that she would never do that to her own child. All she wanted was to roll over and snuggle into the arms of a strong man. Into the arms of a man who loved and cherished her. Someone who she still craved emotionally, mentally, and physically. But when she looked over to her left, the spot on the bed was empty. Tom had fallen asleep in the basement instead of coming up to bed. She wasn't going to leave him. She knew that. So she had to accept her situation for what it was and stop feeling sorry for herself. Jen closed her eyes and attempted to fall asleep.
Later that same day. 5:15PM.
Jen was standing at the kitchen counter, chopping up celery for the soup she was making when suddenly two firm, strong hands roughly slammed down on the granite countertop to her sides. She felt a body lean in and gently press against her back as a pair of warm lips softly caressed her neck.
"How was your day, sexy?"
Her face lit up as she continued slicing vegetables on the wooden cutting board. Those arms which had been to her sides were now making their way along her body. They started with her shoulders before moving down to her hips and ending with her butt. That was the norm in her marriage. Even after twenty years, her husband couldn't keep his hands off her ass.
She smiled as she watched those hands regain their place on the counter. Her husband was leaning into her again, his bulge poking against her backside. It was 5:16 PM and he was ready to go. Just like he always was. Day or night, summer or winter, sickness or in health...he just couldn't get enough of her. She finally set the sharp knife down on the table and spun to face her spouse. When she did, she felt two hands grab her butt and propel her body into the air. Her hubby picked her up and was now carrying her toward the bedroom, making out with her the entire way.
Dinner could wait. Ashley would understand. She was well used to the way her parents were by this point. Mom and Dad just couldn't keep their hands off each other and the cute teen thought it was romantic. She grew up dreaming of meeting a man who would one day treat her the way Dad treated Mom.
Jen landed on the bed and immediately felt her yoga pants and panties yanked down. Seconds later her husband had his head in his favorite spot. And when she reached out and grabbed a handful of his thick, luscious hair, a deep, powerful voice resonated through the bedroom.
"I heard someone's been a bad girl."
She smiled as she pulled his face back into her vagina, letting his wet tongue flow over her throbbing clit. "I can't help it, Daddy."
The feeling of pleasure vanished as she opened her eyes. There she saw her man kneeling on the bed, slowly unbuckling the belt from his dress pants. Her heart raced while she watched it slide from the loops and hang from his masculine hand.
"On all fours...slut."
Jen obediently obeyed the order and eagerly waited for her husband to do what he did best. And that was to make her fantasies a reality. Every week there was something new and different. Different places, different scenarios, different toys, different head games...but some things stayed the same. Like the way he made her feel. She felt vulnerable yet completely protected at the same time. She knew her man would take care of her, but she had no idea how far he was going to push her. It was that constant excitement which drove her crazy. And when she felt his leather belt slowly drop around her neck, she knew she was going to be in for it. She braced herself. Three...two...one...
It tightened.
The brunette tried to breathe but couldn't. She felt her husband's thick, fat cock stretch her tight pussy as her head was firmly yanked back by the leash around her neck. She could see her hubby's gorgeous face hovering over her as the pounding increased in ferocity. A long string of spit fell from her man's mouth and she eagerly parted her lips to accept it. Every fluid, every body part, every single ounce of her husband was a treasure. She just wanted more. And as the hammering continued, she felt the world around her start to darken. She was being choked so tightly and fucked so roughly that the room began to spin. It was like watching clothes in a washing machine. Around and around and around they went. Everything spinning...and spinning...and spinning...
Buzz.
The load of laundry was done as Jen opened the washing machine door and piled the wet clothes into a basket. She laughed to herself as she realized what had happened. She'd actually fantasized about being married to a completely different man, who fucked her properly, all from staring at a washing machine. She was going crazy...
She tossed the garments into the dryer and headed back upstairs. She'd yet to check in on Ashley. Today was day one of her weekly cleaning job at Ryan's house and she still couldn't believe that girl was being paid to clean. She could barely find a passable route through her daughter's room most of the time. There were clothes, and bags, and boxes scattered everywhere, but maybe cleaning for someone else would be different. Maybe it would be good for her. Jen pulled out her phone and texted her daughter.
"Everything good?"
Send.
Seconds later she heard the unmistakable sound of a text message being received in the kitchen. She curiously wandered into the room and saw a green case face down on the counter. Her daughter had forgotten her phone.
You know everything's fine. Just relax. Ashley is a grown woman and can take care of herself. Stop being overprotective.
But she had to be overprotective. Who would look out for Ashley if she didn't? Certainly not Tom. She grabbed her daughter's phone, slid it into her pocket, put on her fleece, and headed out the front door. It was chilly on this early November evening. Not cold, but chilly. The snowstorm prediction wasn't accurate but the sun was already beginning to go down despite the fact daylight savings wasn't until tomorrow. She journeyed across the grass and to her neighbor's front door before ringing the bell.
The door opened.
"Hi, Ryan."
"Hey, Jen," the tall, handsome businessman answered. "Come on in."
She smiled as she walked into the house and slipped off her shoes on the entryway rug. "Wow! Look at this place!"
"Yeah, it's coming along," Ryan said as he shut the door behind her. "Thanks to your daughter..."
Jen smiled again as she watched her neighbor stroll back to the kitchen table in his black dress pants and partially unbuttoned light blue dress shirt with the sleeves rolled hallway up his arms. There was a cup of either coffee or tea on the oak surface next to an open newspaper.
"Tea?" he asked.
She shook her head. "No thanks, I'm good. Where's Ashley? She left her phone at home."
Ryan shrugged his shoulders as he took a seat. "She's around here somewhere," he told her before raising the newspaper up and resuming his reading.
She gave him a curious glance before slowly heading toward the hallway. There were paintings on the walls and a very nice table in the passageway. It didn't look overly expensive, but it was classy. Tasteful, if you will. She promptly found herself in the living room where she was met by gorgeous leather furniture and a large television in the middle of a beautiful entertainment center. Everything looked clean and presentable. Maybe Ashley was actually doing a good job. Maybe her daughter had a knack for cleaning which she was unaware of.
"Hey, Mom."
Jen turned around with a smile at the sound of her daughter's voice. But then her jaw immediately dropped.
Ashley strutted into the room in a black french maid outfit which looked fitted for a girl half her size. The black one-piece ended in a mini skirt which had white lacing along the bottom of it. It barely covered her butt and left plenty of skin between the fishnet stockings she was wearing which ran up to her mid-thighs. Her black high heels cracked with each step on the hardwood floor and the cute white and black headpiece she had in her brunette hair bounced with every stride. Just like her mother, Ashley had an impressive bust which was on full display at the moment. The top of the one-piece came down low enough to leave the upper-half of her breasts exposed.
Jen couldn't believe what she was looking at. Ashley's hands were both covered by fingerless, white lace gloves, and she was carrying around a feather duster. She began cleaning around the television like nothing was going on.
"Ashley..."
The teen stopped and turned to her mother.
"What are you wearing?"
"It's my cleaning outfit," the girl smiled.
Jen was trying to control herself. "Did Ryan make you put that on?"
Ashley quickly shook her head. "No."
"So, why are you wearing it?" she calmly asked. She could feel her blood pressure continuing to rise.
"He told me there was a cleaning outfit in his closet. He didn't make me put it on or anything."
"So, why are you wearing it?" Jen repeated.
The teen looked off to the side. "Because it makes me feel sexy..."
"Go change."
"But, Mommmmmm..." the girl whined.
"Go change!" she loudly repeated.
She watched her daughter storm toward the stairs and ascend the steps. Her hands started to shake. She was on the verge of losing it. Jen took a deep breath and hustled down the hallway, back into the kitchen.
"What the hell is that!?"
Ryan looked up from his paper with a curious expression.
"Seriously?" Jen furiously asked. "Like you don't know what I'm talking about?"
The neighbor gave her a dismissive look before turning his attention back to the newspaper.
"Hey, dickhead!" Jen snapped.
He didn't react.
She stormed over to the table and yanked his newspaper down. "Hey! I'm talking to you!"
Ryan just stared at her.
"Why did you make my daughter dress up like some kind of whore?"
"I didn't make her do anything," he responded before raising the paper back to eye level.
"She's a child," Jen informed him.
"No, she's not. She's eighteen. She's a woman."
"You're a predator," Jen told him. "You're probably thirty years older than her, you disgusting pig..."
Ryan lightly chuckled to himself as his eyes continued to descend the newspaper column he was reading.
"When my..." Jen cut herself off. 'When my husband finds out about this,' is what she really wanted to say. Yeah, she could say it. Tom would have to freak out about this. He wasn't passionate about too many things these days, but what father isn't protective over their own daughter? Especially when they were dressed the way Ashley was!
"When my husband finds out about this, he's going to lose his shit!"
Ryan's eyes didn't leave his newspaper.
"Do you get off on this?" Jen continued to berate him. "Paying teenagers to clean your house for you while they dress like little sluts? You sicken me! You wealthy assholes are all the same! Thinking you can do whatever you want as long as you pay people! Well, guess what, Ryan? My daughter isn't for sale!"
"You need guidance."
Jen took a step back. "What did you just say to me!?"
"Guidance," he slowly repeated. "You need it."
She felt the left side of her face twitch. She wanted to pick up that cup of tea and smash it over this cocksucker's head. How dare he speak to her like that! "I happen to be a successful woman..."
"I'm not talking about your career," he interrupted. "I'm talking about your personal life."
Jen was tired of talking to a newspaper. She took a few steps forward and forcibly lowered the business section down to the table while glaring at her neighbor. As she began to open her mouth, the sound of footsteps grew closer in the hallway behind her. She turned to see her daughter dressed in a pair of jeans and a hoodie.
"Home! Now!"
"I have to finish cleaning," Ashley told her.
"Now!!"
"I'm not done yet..." she whined.
Jen looked back to her neighbor and watched him tilt his body to the right as he retrieved his wallet from the back of his dress pants.
"She's not taking your money," she scowled at him before turning back to her daughter. "We're leaving!"
"But, Mom..."
Jen stormed over to her daughter and roughly grabbed her by the arm, rapidly leading her out the front door.
"Mom, stop! Stop!"
It was like Jen couldn't even hear her. She was flabbergasted by what she'd seen and just wanted Ashley out of there. She continued to drag her across the grass and into their house.
"What's wrong with you!?" Ashley shouted.
"What's wrong with me?" Jen asked with a shocked expression. "What's wrong with me!? What the fuck is wrong with you!?"
"I was trying to do my job!" Ashley yelled in the family room entrance.
"To prance around some pervert's house dressed like a whore? That's your job now!?"
"God," Ashley huffed, "this is so unfair!"
"Grounded!" Jen announced. "One week!"
Ashley's mouth dropped. "For what!? This is such bullshit!"
"Two weeks!"
"I didn't even do anything!" the teen yelled.
"You swore," Jen told her. "Keep it up and it'll be three."
"But you swear all the time!" Ashley shouted. "What the hell, Mom!?"
Jen moved closer to her daughter before lowering her voice. "I can swear all I want because this is my fuckin' house, and you'll live by my fuckin' rules. And if you have a fuckin' problem with that, then you can spend the rest of the fuckin' year in your fuckin' room."
Ashley turned her head to the side and screamed. "Ahhhhhhhhhh!!"
"Three weeks!" Jen told her as she watched her daughter hike into the kitchen and stomp toward the stairs. "Say something else! Go ahead! I'll make it a month!"
Jen heard Ashley's thumping, angry footsteps climb the steps before the sound of her bedroom door slamming shut ended them. She couldn't believe it, but she needed her husband. She needed Tom.
10:22PM.
Headlights appeared through the windows as Jen sat at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee. For the first time in at least a decade, she was eagerly anticipating seeing her husband. A minute later, heavy footsteps trudged into the kitchen.
"Oh, hey..."
"Sit down," Jen told her husband, "we need to talk."
Tom took a seat across the table from his wife. "Something wrong?"
Jen chuckled. "Yeah, Tom...something is very, very wrong."
Something was wrong alright. Something was wrong with their sex life, and their marriage, and their lack of love for each other. But there was no point in having that discussion now. It was time to talk about Ashley.
"Our new neighbor hired Ashley to clean his house."
Tom nodded his head. "Okay..."
"And when I went over there today, I saw her cleaning..."
Tom continued to look at his wife; confused by whatever point she was trying to make.
"She was dressed like a french maid."
Tom didn't react.
"Like a slutty french maid," Jen clarified herself. "Her butt was practically hanging out and half her breasts were exposed. It was ridiculous!"
"He made her wear this?"
Jen took a deep breath. "Not exactly..."
"Not exactly?"
"No," Jen huffed. "He told her there was a cleaning outfit upstairs and Ashley put it on. But he coerced her!"
"How'd he coerce her?" Tom asked.
"By implying a maid costume was part of the job!"
His confused look hadn't gone away. "But he never said it was, right?"
Jen glared it him.
"Honey, Ashley's a grown woman. She isn't a child. If she decides to dress a certain way, then that's her decision."
Her jaw was on the floor. "Wait... You're taking his side!?"
"Whose side?"
"Our asshole neighbor's!" Jen yelled. "You're taking his side!?"
"I'm not taking anyone's side," Tom told her, "but getting mad at our daughter for making her own decisions isn't right."
"She's your daughter, Thomas!" Jen shouted. "You're supposed to protect her!"
"She isn't a kid anymore, Jen," he rebutted. "She's eighteen."
"Unfuckinbelievable..."
"Do you have to swear all the time?" Tom asked. "It comes off so trashy..."
She began to seethe. "Trashy? Trashy!? The neighbor had our daughter parading around his house like a fuckin' whore, but I'm the trashy one!?"
"What do you want me to do, Jen? Go fight the guy?"
"Do something!" she loudly told him.
"We aren't cavemen," Tom rolled his eyes. "We live in a civilized society. Our daughter made a decision. It's really none of our business."
Jen couldn't even respond.
"Are we done here?"
She nodded.
Tom got out of his seat and quickly disappeared into the basement.
Jen continued to sit in her chair and stare at the oven off in the distance. She couldn't even get her husband's support on this. Not only did she run the house and take care of everything, but now it was her sole responsibility to look out for their daughter as well? What exactly was the point of being married to Tom? He couldn't even make her cum! The least he should be able to do is look after his own child! She just wanted to scream! Well, it was all on her now. She had to play the role of the father as well. She needed to go confront this piece of shit who moved in next door before he did something else to Ashley.
Chapter 6 – Guidance.
One week later. 6:24PM.
Jen was a mess. She had no idea how to approach the next door neighbor, and even worse, Ashley hadn't spoken to her in a week. If this was what life was going to be like once her daughter went off to college, then Jen was going to strongly consider a divorce. She felt so lonely. There was no one to talk to, no one to confide in, no one to gossip with, and no one to look forward to seeing every day. It was just a boring routine which consisted of going to work, then the gym a few days a week, and finally home to an empty house. She'd almost texted Anthony a handful of times over the past seven days, including sending him a picture of her taking the majority of her long, purple dildo down her throat. Sure, it looked ridiculous when she viewed the image, but she just wanted someone to be impressed by her. Someone to be thinking about her. Someone to call her a good girl after following an order. Was wanting that so bad? Was there something wrong with being submissive? But now she couldn't even have that. She still had to go next door and tell this asshole what the deal was. That was a man's job! It was something her husband should've already done! God, everything was so frustrating!
It finally came to her. Keep it simple. She was going to go next door and ring the doorbell, tell Ryan she'll call the cops if he ever talks to her daughter again, and come back home. Oh, and she was going to get an apology too. That was for damn sure! She grabbed her winter coat and headed out the door.
Be firm. Be demanding. Tell this asshole how it's going to be! You're the one in charge! Not this creepy pervert. You're a strong, brave, independent woman. Show this dickhead you deserve just as much respect as any man!
Jen rang the doorbell.
Her mouth opened. And it stayed open. As she just stared...
Ryan answered the door in just a pair of orange, athletic basketball shorts. There was visible sweat running down his toned, lean, shirtless body as he used a towel to dry off his thick, brown hair. Her daughter was right. Their neighbor had abs. Abs and veins. Thick, prominent veins which ran down his arms and biceps. His chest was chiseled and muscular. He was perfect...
"Jen?"
Her head snapped to attention. "Umm...h...hi...hey."
The businessman smiled as he took a step to the side. "Come on in. It's cold out there."
Jen quickly scurried into her neighbor's house and stood on his gray entryway rug.
"Just finished a workout downstairs," he told her before shutting the door and making his way into the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water.
Jen kicked off her shoes and followed him into the kitchen. "I wanted to talk to you."
He leaned against the counter and raised a clear glass to his lips, waiting for his neighbor to say whatever was on her mind.
"I would like an apology."
Ryan finished his long sip before glancing up at her with an amused expression. "An apology?"
"Yes," Jen reiterated while standing in front of the kitchen table, "an apology."
"For what?" he asked.
"For the way you took advantage of my daughter."
Ryan walked over to the table before taking a seat. He pointed to the chair next to him and looked at his guest. "Sit."
Jen followed his order.
"How about you tell me what's really going on?"
"Excuse me?" she asked.
"With you," he calmly specified. "What's really going on, with you?"
"This isn't about me," Jen stated, "it's about my daughter."
"When was the last time someone talked about you?"
She responded with a curious reaction. "What?"
"With your husband, or your daughter, or your friends. When was the last time the conversation was about you?"
Jen thought to herself for a few moments before shrugging her shoulders.
"Remember last week when I told you that you needed guidance?"
She nodded.
"Here we are," he started, "a week after you stormed out of my house, furious at me over what your daughter was wearing. Yet, your husband never confronted me and now you're here, sitting at my kitchen table, asking for an apology..."
"Which I still want."
The good-looking neighbor let out a soft, almost arrogant laugh as he set his glass of water down on the table. "I'm not going to apologize to you."
"Why?"
"You think you want an apology?" he grinned.
"I know I want one."
Ryan slowly shook his head. "Jen, you don't have the slightest clue as to what you want."
She raised her eyebrows.
"And you want to know why?"
She waited for him to reveal the answer.
"Because you don't have anyone guiding you."
Jen opened her mouth but was quickly cut off.
"Are you familiar with the concept of hypergamy?"
She shook her head no.
"Hypergamy is the notion that people are always in pursuit of the wealthiest, best looking, highest status person they can attain. Whether they're married or not."
Jen rolled her eyes.
"It can be wealth, looks, status, or power...but people are always looking to trade up. Especially women."
"That's ridiculous," Jen dismissively replied.
"Is it?" he calmly asked.
"Yeah," she answered, "what about love, loyalty, respect, children...?"
Ryan nodded his head. "I agree. It's a rather outdated concept, isn't it? You're a working woman with a good job," he told her as he held his hand out to acknowledge her presence, "not some housewife without an education or the ability to support herself."
"So, what's your point then?" she harshly asked.
"My point is while women have shifted their desires and what they value in men as we've progressed as a society, some things can't be changed."
She furrowed her brow. "Like what?"
"Your primal urges," he answered.
"My primal urges?" she laughed.
Ryan took another sip of water before setting his glass down on the table again, still shirtless. "You see, Jen, all women want the same thing."
"And what's that, Mr. Know-It-All?" she asked.
"To submit to a man she deems better than herself."
Jen audibly gasped. "That's the most sexist thing I've ever heard!"
"Is it?" he smoothly asked. "You're not attracted to men you deem better than you?"
"Better than me? And what qualifies a man as better than me?"
"It's different for every woman," Ryan told her. "For some it's success, for others it's power, or intelligence, or sense of humor, or physical prowess. No woman has the same list of things that makes her tick, but, Jen, every woman has something that gets her going. Every woman gets off on the idea of submitting to a man she looks up to."
"This is nonsense," she groaned while shaking her head.
"What type of man do you fantasize about?"
Jen laughed. "That's none of your business."
He pointed his finger at her and grinned. "My point exactly."
"What point?"
"The answer wasn't your husband," he smirked, "because like most women, you're with a man you don't look up to."
"You don't know the first thing about my husband."
"Is he unpredictable, Jen? Does he keep you guessing? Do you feed off his drive and ambition?"
She looked down at the table.
"Not everyone can make six figures," he told her. "Not everyone can have seven percent body fat or an amazing personality. Some men are just men. Average Joe's, if you will. They aren't particularly creative, or intelligent, or good-looking. But every man, every real man...has drive. He wants to better himself. He wants to push himself. Whether it be his career, in the gym, with his hobbies, or whatever motivates him. Women see that, and they want a piece of it. They want part of a man who's going to take them along on a ride. They want to feed off his intensity and motivation. Jen, every woman wants a man like that. A man she can brag to her friends about. A man she looks up to the way she looked up to her father when she was a little girl.
"You're delusional."
He lightly laughed as he leaned back in his chair with a slight smirk. "The first door to your right when you walk upstairs is my bedroom. In the closet you'll find a maid outfit."
Jen looked at him stone-faced for close to thirty seconds. Slowly by surely she began to crack until she was roaring laughing. "Oh my God, you can't be serious!"
Ryan continue to stare at her with the same confident expression he had from the moment she stepped into his house.
"You think..." she laughed, barely able to speak, "that I'm going to clean your house!? Oh my God!"
He took another sip of water.
"You're too much!" she continued to laugh before standing up and starting toward the door. She suddenly stopped.
Eight minutes later...
Jen was standing in front of her neighbor's upstairs bathroom mirror, adjusting her french maid outfit to show as much cleavage as possible. As good as she looked, the appearance of disbelief was still planted on her face. How'd this happen? Why didn't she just walk out the front door? Why didn't she leave his house and forget about their ridiculous conversation? Why did she stop, walk up the stairs without saying a word, and retrieve the maid outfit from his closet? And it was the same outfit she freaked out about and eventually grounded her daughter for wearing just a week ago! What kind of hypocrite was she? But, more importantly, why did all of this make her feel so good?
Was Ryan right? Were her primal urges something she couldn't control? Her neighbor was right about one thing, and that was the fact she didn't look up to her husband in the least. In fact, she looked down on him. And she'd been looking down on herself for ending up with a man like him. A man who acted like a child and didn't remotely resemble the type of guy she used to dream of being with. Isn't that what every woman wants? No matter how old they get, every female wants a strong male figure in their life. Someone who can lead and protect them. Someone they can look up to and respect. Someone who pushes them to make their own lives better. Tom didn't do that, but Ryan did.
Was it his house? Or maybe his success? Or what about his body? Yeah, his body definitely had something to do with it. She respected men who cared about their own health and well-being. But there was something more. Something she couldn't quite put her finger on. It was his confidence. She fed off of it. The way he explained his thought process to her in such a calm, efficient demeanor. He wasn't talking down to her, but he never showed a hint of weakness. Every speed bump she tossed in his way was smoothly bypassed. It was like his voice had a trance on her. And she realized one thing as she looked at her reflection in the mirror. She wanted his approval. Desperately.
One hour later...
She finished folding the last of her neighbor's workout clothes and placed them in the basket next to the dryer. Over the past sixty minutes, Jen had vacuumed, swept, dusted, ironed Ryan's work clothes, and folded the large load of laundry which had been sitting in the dryer machine. And each time she completed a task, she strutted toward the next one with a bounce in her step. Why? She couldn't explain it. She just felt good doing things for a man. She wanted him to look at her with a sense of approval. To see her as an equal. But at the same time, she didn't want to be his equal. She wanted him to be better than her. Ryan was right. Jen was seeking the approval of a real man.
She carried the basket of clothes up the basement stairs before heading up even more steps on her way to Ryan's upstairs bedroom. She decided to take a peek inside his closet after putting the garments into their respective dresser drawers. Dress pants, dress shirts, ties, belts, suits, and dress shoes made up the right half, while casual shirts and athletic shoes filled the left side. Up on the top shelf were folded jeans and sweaters. It was the closet of an organized man who had his shit together. It was the polar opposite of what her husband's closet looked like. First off, Tom didn't own any dress shirts or pants other than the one pair of khakis and that awful gray polo he would wear if he absolutely had to. And his closet was full of childish t-shirts and scattered clothes on the floor. It was just so messy and unorganized. In fact, for the first decade of their marriage, she would clean and organize it every few months. She eventually decided to scrap that occasional task due to its lack of appreciation. A medium sized black, wooden box jumped out at her as she peered to the lower left corner of his closet. Jen slid it out and looked inside. Her eyes instantly lit up.
It was full of the toys Ashley told her about.
"Like anything you see?"
Her head snapped in the direction of the voice. Ryan was leaning against his bedroom wall, staring at her with a t-shirt on this time.
She hesitantly lifted the ball gag from the top of the pile of toys and raised it to show her neighbor.
"That's a favorite."
"Of yours?" she asked.
Ryan slowly shook his head.
Jen felt herself quiver. She looked back inside the box. "What's your favorite?"
"What do you think my favorite is?" Ryan asked.
She thought to herself as she moved a blindfold to the side. A pair of handcuffs suddenly emerged from the box.
Ryan smirked.
Jen was wet.
"The house looks nice."
She tried to hide her smile but couldn't. She was glowing. Was that all it took to make her feel this way? A simple compliment? Just someone who appreciated the work she'd done for them? Tom always seemed to expect everything she did. The cooking, the cleaning, her sexual advances...it was all just expected. Married or not, she still liked validation.
Jen took a step back. "What did you just say to me!?"
"Guidance," he slowly repeated. "You need it."
She felt the left side of her face twitch. She wanted to pick up that cup of tea and smash it over this cocksucker's head. How dare he speak to her like that! "I happen to be a successful woman..."
"I'm not talking about your career," he interrupted. "I'm talking about your personal life."
Jen was tired of talking to a newspaper. She took a few steps forward and forcibly lowered the business section down to the table while glaring at her neighbor. As she began to open her mouth, the sound of footsteps grew closer in the hallway behind her. She turned to see her daughter dressed in a pair of jeans and a hoodie.
"Home! Now!"
"I have to finish cleaning," Ashley told her.
"Now!!"
"I'm not done yet..." she whined.
Jen looked back to her neighbor and watched him tilt his body to the right as he retrieved his wallet from the back of his dress pants.
"She's not taking your money," she scowled at him before turning back to her daughter. "We're leaving!"
"But, Mom..."
Jen stormed over to her daughter and roughly grabbed her by the arm, rapidly leading her out the front door.
"Mom, stop! Stop!"
It was like Jen couldn't even hear her. She was flabbergasted by what she'd seen and just wanted Ashley out of there. She continued to drag her across the grass and into their house.
"What's wrong with you!?" Ashley shouted.
"What's wrong with me?" Jen asked with a shocked expression. "What's wrong with me!? What the fuck is wrong with you!?"
"I was trying to do my job!" Ashley yelled in the family room entrance.
"To prance around some pervert's house dressed like a whore? That's your job now!?"
"God," Ashley huffed, "this is so unfair!"
"Grounded!" Jen announced. "One week!"
Ashley's mouth dropped. "For what!? This is such bullshit!"
"Two weeks!"
"I didn't even do anything!" the teen yelled.
"You swore," Jen told her. "Keep it up and it'll be three."
"But you swear all the time!" Ashley shouted. "What the hell, Mom!?"
Jen moved closer to her daughter before lowering her voice. "I can swear all I want because this is my fuckin' house, and you'll live by my fuckin' rules. And if you have a fuckin' problem with that, then you can spend the rest of the fuckin' year in your fuckin' room."
Ashley turned her head to the side and screamed. "Ahhhhhhhhhh!!"
"Three weeks!" Jen told her as she watched her daughter hike into the kitchen and stomp toward the stairs. "Say something else! Go ahead! I'll make it a month!"
Jen heard Ashley's thumping, angry footsteps climb the steps before the sound of her bedroom door slamming shut ended them. She couldn't believe it, but she needed her husband. She needed Tom.
10:22PM.
Headlights appeared through the windows as Jen sat at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee. For the first time in at least a decade, she was eagerly anticipating seeing her husband. A minute later, heavy footsteps trudged into the kitchen.
"Oh, hey..."
"Sit down," Jen told her husband, "we need to talk."
Tom took a seat across the table from his wife. "Something wrong?"
Jen chuckled. "Yeah, Tom...something is very, very wrong."
Something was wrong alright. Something was wrong with their sex life, and their marriage, and their lack of love for each other. But there was no point in having that discussion now. It was time to talk about Ashley.
"Our new neighbor hired Ashley to clean his house."
Tom nodded his head. "Okay..."
"And when I went over there today, I saw her cleaning..."
Tom continued to look at his wife; confused by whatever point she was trying to make.
"She was dressed like a french maid."
Tom didn't react.
"Like a slutty french maid," Jen clarified herself. "Her butt was practically hanging out and half her breasts were exposed. It was ridiculous!"
"He made her wear this?"
Jen took a deep breath. "Not exactly..."
"Not exactly?"
"No," Jen huffed. "He told her there was a cleaning outfit upstairs and Ashley put it on. But he coerced her!"
"How'd he coerce her?" Tom asked.
"By implying a maid costume was part of the job!"
His confused look hadn't gone away. "But he never said it was, right?"
Jen glared it him.
"Honey, Ashley's a grown woman. She isn't a child. If she decides to dress a certain way, then that's her decision."
Her jaw was on the floor. "Wait... You're taking his side!?"
"Whose side?"
"Our asshole neighbor's!" Jen yelled. "You're taking his side!?"
"I'm not taking anyone's side," Tom told her, "but getting mad at our daughter for making her own decisions isn't right."
"She's your daughter, Thomas!" Jen shouted. "You're supposed to protect her!"
"She isn't a kid anymore, Jen," he rebutted. "She's eighteen."
"Unfuckinbelievable..."
"Do you have to swear all the time?" Tom asked. "It comes off so trashy..."
She began to seethe. "Trashy? Trashy!? The neighbor had our daughter parading around his house like a fuckin' whore, but I'm the trashy one!?"
"What do you want me to do, Jen? Go fight the guy?"
"Do something!" she loudly told him.
"We aren't cavemen," Tom rolled his eyes. "We live in a civilized society. Our daughter made a decision. It's really none of our business."
Jen couldn't even respond.
"Are we done here?"
She nodded.
Tom got out of his seat and quickly disappeared into the basement.
Jen continued to sit in her chair and stare at the oven off in the distance. She couldn't even get her husband's support on this. Not only did she run the house and take care of everything, but now it was her sole responsibility to look out for their daughter as well? What exactly was the point of being married to Tom? He couldn't even make her cum! The least he should be able to do is look after his own child! She just wanted to scream! Well, it was all on her now. She had to play the role of the father as well. She needed to go confront this piece of shit who moved in next door before he did something else to Ashley.
Chapter 6 – Guidance.
One week later. 6:24PM.
Jen was a mess. She had no idea how to approach the next door neighbor, and even worse, Ashley hadn't spoken to her in a week. If this was what life was going to be like once her daughter went off to college, then Jen was going to strongly consider a divorce. She felt so lonely. There was no one to talk to, no one to confide in, no one to gossip with, and no one to look forward to seeing every day. It was just a boring routine which consisted of going to work, then the gym a few days a week, and finally home to an empty house. She'd almost texted Anthony a handful of times over the past seven days, including sending him a picture of her taking the majority of her long, purple dildo down her throat. Sure, it looked ridiculous when she viewed the image, but she just wanted someone to be impressed by her. Someone to be thinking about her. Someone to call her a good girl after following an order. Was wanting that so bad? Was there something wrong with being submissive? But now she couldn't even have that. She still had to go next door and tell this asshole what the deal was. That was a man's job! It was something her husband should've already done! God, everything was so frustrating!
It finally came to her. Keep it simple. She was going to go next door and ring the doorbell, tell Ryan she'll call the cops if he ever talks to her daughter again, and come back home. Oh, and she was going to get an apology too. That was for damn sure! She grabbed her winter coat and headed out the door.
Be firm. Be demanding. Tell this asshole how it's going to be! You're the one in charge! Not this creepy pervert. You're a strong, brave, independent woman. Show this dickhead you deserve just as much respect as any man!
Jen rang the doorbell.
Her mouth opened. And it stayed open. As she just stared...
Ryan answered the door in just a pair of orange, athletic basketball shorts. There was visible sweat running down his toned, lean, shirtless body as he used a towel to dry off his thick, brown hair. Her daughter was right. Their neighbor had abs. Abs and veins. Thick, prominent veins which ran down his arms and biceps. His chest was chiseled and muscular. He was perfect...
"Jen?"
Her head snapped to attention. "Umm...h...hi...hey."
The businessman smiled as he took a step to the side. "Come on in. It's cold out there."
Jen quickly scurried into her neighbor's house and stood on his gray entryway rug.
"Just finished a workout downstairs," he told her before shutting the door and making his way into the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water.
Jen kicked off her shoes and followed him into the kitchen. "I wanted to talk to you."
He leaned against the counter and raised a clear glass to his lips, waiting for his neighbor to say whatever was on her mind.
"I would like an apology."
Ryan finished his long sip before glancing up at her with an amused expression. "An apology?"
"Yes," Jen reiterated while standing in front of the kitchen table, "an apology."
"For what?" he asked.
"For the way you took advantage of my daughter."
Ryan walked over to the table before taking a seat. He pointed to the chair next to him and looked at his guest. "Sit."
Jen followed his order.
"How about you tell me what's really going on?"
"Excuse me?" she asked.
"With you," he calmly specified. "What's really going on, with you?"
"This isn't about me," Jen stated, "it's about my daughter."
"When was the last time someone talked about you?"
She responded with a curious reaction. "What?"
"With your husband, or your daughter, or your friends. When was the last time the conversation was about you?"
Jen thought to herself for a few moments before shrugging her shoulders.
"Remember last week when I told you that you needed guidance?"
She nodded.
"Here we are," he started, "a week after you stormed out of my house, furious at me over what your daughter was wearing. Yet, your husband never confronted me and now you're here, sitting at my kitchen table, asking for an apology..."
"Which I still want."
The good-looking neighbor let out a soft, almost arrogant laugh as he set his glass of water down on the table. "I'm not going to apologize to you."
"Why?"
"You think you want an apology?" he grinned.
"I know I want one."
Ryan slowly shook his head. "Jen, you don't have the slightest clue as to what you want."
She raised her eyebrows.
"And you want to know why?"
She waited for him to reveal the answer.
"Because you don't have anyone guiding you."
Jen opened her mouth but was quickly cut off.
"Are you familiar with the concept of hypergamy?"
She shook her head no.
"Hypergamy is the notion that people are always in pursuit of the wealthiest, best looking, highest status person they can attain. Whether they're married or not."
Jen rolled her eyes.
"It can be wealth, looks, status, or power...but people are always looking to trade up. Especially women."
"That's ridiculous," Jen dismissively replied.
"Is it?" he calmly asked.
"Yeah," she answered, "what about love, loyalty, respect, children...?"
Ryan nodded his head. "I agree. It's a rather outdated concept, isn't it? You're a working woman with a good job," he told her as he held his hand out to acknowledge her presence, "not some housewife without an education or the ability to support herself."
"So, what's your point then?" she harshly asked.
"My point is while women have shifted their desires and what they value in men as we've progressed as a society, some things can't be changed."
She furrowed her brow. "Like what?"
"Your primal urges," he answered.
"My primal urges?" she laughed.
Ryan took another sip of water before setting his glass down on the table again, still shirtless. "You see, Jen, all women want the same thing."
"And what's that, Mr. Know-It-All?" she asked.
"To submit to a man she deems better than herself."
Jen audibly gasped. "That's the most sexist thing I've ever heard!"
"Is it?" he smoothly asked. "You're not attracted to men you deem better than you?"
"Better than me? And what qualifies a man as better than me?"
"It's different for every woman," Ryan told her. "For some it's success, for others it's power, or intelligence, or sense of humor, or physical prowess. No woman has the same list of things that makes her tick, but, Jen, every woman has something that gets her going. Every woman gets off on the idea of submitting to a man she looks up to."
"This is nonsense," she groaned while shaking her head.
"What type of man do you fantasize about?"
Jen laughed. "That's none of your business."
He pointed his finger at her and grinned. "My point exactly."
"What point?"
"The answer wasn't your husband," he smirked, "because like most women, you're with a man you don't look up to."
"You don't know the first thing about my husband."
"Is he unpredictable, Jen? Does he keep you guessing? Do you feed off his drive and ambition?"
She looked down at the table.
"Not everyone can make six figures," he told her. "Not everyone can have seven percent body fat or an amazing personality. Some men are just men. Average Joe's, if you will. They aren't particularly creative, or intelligent, or good-looking. But every man, every real man...has drive. He wants to better himself. He wants to push himself. Whether it be his career, in the gym, with his hobbies, or whatever motivates him. Women see that, and they want a piece of it. They want part of a man who's going to take them along on a ride. They want to feed off his intensity and motivation. Jen, every woman wants a man like that. A man she can brag to her friends about. A man she looks up to the way she looked up to her father when she was a little girl.
"You're delusional."
He lightly laughed as he leaned back in his chair with a slight smirk. "The first door to your right when you walk upstairs is my bedroom. In the closet you'll find a maid outfit."
Jen looked at him stone-faced for close to thirty seconds. Slowly by surely she began to crack until she was roaring laughing. "Oh my God, you can't be serious!"
Ryan continue to stare at her with the same confident expression he had from the moment she stepped into his house.
"You think..." she laughed, barely able to speak, "that I'm going to clean your house!? Oh my God!"
He took another sip of water.
"You're too much!" she continued to laugh before standing up and starting toward the door. She suddenly stopped.
Eight minutes later...
Jen was standing in front of her neighbor's upstairs bathroom mirror, adjusting her french maid outfit to show as much cleavage as possible. As good as she looked, the appearance of disbelief was still planted on her face. How'd this happen? Why didn't she just walk out the front door? Why didn't she leave his house and forget about their ridiculous conversation? Why did she stop, walk up the stairs without saying a word, and retrieve the maid outfit from his closet? And it was the same outfit she freaked out about and eventually grounded her daughter for wearing just a week ago! What kind of hypocrite was she? But, more importantly, why did all of this make her feel so good?
Was Ryan right? Were her primal urges something she couldn't control? Her neighbor was right about one thing, and that was the fact she didn't look up to her husband in the least. In fact, she looked down on him. And she'd been looking down on herself for ending up with a man like him. A man who acted like a child and didn't remotely resemble the type of guy she used to dream of being with. Isn't that what every woman wants? No matter how old they get, every female wants a strong male figure in their life. Someone who can lead and protect them. Someone they can look up to and respect. Someone who pushes them to make their own lives better. Tom didn't do that, but Ryan did.
Was it his house? Or maybe his success? Or what about his body? Yeah, his body definitely had something to do with it. She respected men who cared about their own health and well-being. But there was something more. Something she couldn't quite put her finger on. It was his confidence. She fed off of it. The way he explained his thought process to her in such a calm, efficient demeanor. He wasn't talking down to her, but he never showed a hint of weakness. Every speed bump she tossed in his way was smoothly bypassed. It was like his voice had a trance on her. And she realized one thing as she looked at her reflection in the mirror. She wanted his approval. Desperately.
One hour later...
She finished folding the last of her neighbor's workout clothes and placed them in the basket next to the dryer. Over the past sixty minutes, Jen had vacuumed, swept, dusted, ironed Ryan's work clothes, and folded the large load of laundry which had been sitting in the dryer machine. And each time she completed a task, she strutted toward the next one with a bounce in her step. Why? She couldn't explain it. She just felt good doing things for a man. She wanted him to look at her with a sense of approval. To see her as an equal. But at the same time, she didn't want to be his equal. She wanted him to be better than her. Ryan was right. Jen was seeking the approval of a real man.
She carried the basket of clothes up the basement stairs before heading up even more steps on her way to Ryan's upstairs bedroom. She decided to take a peek inside his closet after putting the garments into their respective dresser drawers. Dress pants, dress shirts, ties, belts, suits, and dress shoes made up the right half, while casual shirts and athletic shoes filled the left side. Up on the top shelf were folded jeans and sweaters. It was the closet of an organized man who had his shit together. It was the polar opposite of what her husband's closet looked like. First off, Tom didn't own any dress shirts or pants other than the one pair of khakis and that awful gray polo he would wear if he absolutely had to. And his closet was full of childish t-shirts and scattered clothes on the floor. It was just so messy and unorganized. In fact, for the first decade of their marriage, she would clean and organize it every few months. She eventually decided to scrap that occasional task due to its lack of appreciation. A medium sized black, wooden box jumped out at her as she peered to the lower left corner of his closet. Jen slid it out and looked inside. Her eyes instantly lit up.
It was full of the toys Ashley told her about.
"Like anything you see?"
Her head snapped in the direction of the voice. Ryan was leaning against his bedroom wall, staring at her with a t-shirt on this time.
She hesitantly lifted the ball gag from the top of the pile of toys and raised it to show her neighbor.
"That's a favorite."
"Of yours?" she asked.
Ryan slowly shook his head.
Jen felt herself quiver. She looked back inside the box. "What's your favorite?"
"What do you think my favorite is?" Ryan asked.
She thought to herself as she moved a blindfold to the side. A pair of handcuffs suddenly emerged from the box.
Ryan smirked.
Jen was wet.
"The house looks nice."
She tried to hide her smile but couldn't. She was glowing. Was that all it took to make her feel this way? A simple compliment? Just someone who appreciated the work she'd done for them? Tom always seemed to expect everything she did. The cooking, the cleaning, her sexual advances...it was all just expected. Married or not, she still liked validation.
