Minutes passed before I could open my eyes. Gazing back at me was a man who had given me an erotic gift, something I thought I’d never experience again. Gently, he lifted himself on top of me and slid his engorged cock inside, pumping hard and fast until he came in short bursts of ecstasy. A few minutes later, Brett flipped me over and began fucking me from behind. Long, deep thrusts took my breath away, and I began to shake. He moaned deeply. His thrusts were more powerful than ever and within minutes we came again, both of us falling over onto the bed, drenched in sweat. We fucked like maniacs that night, hungry for something that felt out of reach.
Thirst finally overcame me. Getting up to go to the kitchen, I looked back at the man lying in my bed, an image I hadn’t seen in seven years, and a wave of emotion ran through me.
Fun times ahead, Maggie
. Making my way to the fridge for a glass of lemon water, I glanced at my purse, which I’d tossed on the floor near the front door. Curiosity got the best of me, and I pulled my phone from the outside pocket of my bag. Four missed texts from Daniel. Ignoring them, I put my phone away. June’s longest day had turned into one hell of a night and I wasn’t about to let anything—or anyone—fuck it up.
***
Serenity didn’t manifest during the month of June. Renewal, on the other hand, had. Throwing caution to the wind, Brett and I rekindled our relationship with playful afternoons, sleepy weekend mornings and erotic, sleepless nights. My lust for life (and sex) had ramped, nearing full throttle. I couldn’t have been more satisfied.
The Varsity Grille became our hangout, and we managed to snag our “first date” table more times than not. More confident on a motorcycle, I bought a pair of beefy motorcycle boots and wore them proudly. I had enough t-shirts and jeans in my closet to look the part of Brett’s ol’ lady, a secret identity I kept from everyone, even Daniel. Our passion had no bounds. We fooled around like teenagers in movie theatres. We rarely texted; instead we talked on the phone or met in person. Ours was a tangible relationship; unlike the virtual, emotionally pixilated one that I had with Daniel.
I felt so alive with Brett, like I’d been given a second chance at life. There was a part of me, very deep inside, that began to regret flying my grandkids out in the middle of the summer amidst my torrid romance. The thought of two weeks without Brett was excruciating, and I prayed that the days of June would last forever. Still, big girls like me know fairy tales don’t last…
CHAPTER 5
Dependence Day
P
eople move to Colorado for the weather, among other things. Hot July days followed by cool, breezy nights keep them here. Occasional rain showers in the afternoon last long enough to cool things off, freeing the air from suffocating humidity. Just a few innocuous insects buzz about, eliminating the need for screened porches. People play, work and eat outdoors; some even sleep outside. A couple of times last year, I fell asleep on my double chaise under a huge ash tree that shades most of my backyard with its massive trunk and thick canopy of almond-shaped leaves. It’s easy ending a long day in the garden wrapped in an old quilt, sipping tea under that living treasure. I can’t imagine a better place to live.
The twins were scheduled to arrive around noon on July 1. The day before, I’d gone through the house, making sure all was in order. The guest room needed to be set up to accommodate two seven-year-olds, which meant packing up ceramic knickknacks, glass picture frames and other breakable items, and replacing them with stuffed animals, books and puzzles. Several years ago, I’d purchased a nightlight with cut out images of dragonflies, illuminating the ceiling with soothing blue tones. I’d pulled that out and set it on the nightstand. Timmy and Lisbeth preferred to sleep together, making the full bed perfect for the inseparable duo. I’d picked up a set of colorful sheets that matched their color scheme back home, along with a matching comforter. From start to finish, I’d spent just a little over an hour preparing their home-away-from-home.
Celebrating the Fourth of July with the twins left me feeling tentative; it was an exhilarating holiday for children but a painful reminder for me. Still, I vowed to keep my grief at bay and scoured the paper for a parade that would delight the kiddos. Cities and towns across the Centennial State boasted of the best
Fourth of July festivities, so I took my time perusing the special Holiday section of the newspaper, hoping to find one that would be more traditional, less commercial (or worse, political). Well into the list, I became infuriated by ads depicting men and women riding in convertibles, obnoxious slogans dripping from graphic banners that ran across the top of the page. In the end, I settled on downtown Denver’s parade simply because it was closest. Ignoring politicians had become a national pastime, and I was no stranger to it.
Sipping a glass of wine after a long day of housework, I shifted my thoughts to Brett. And Daniel. Erotic romps consumed my free time, leaving me with little energy for anything else. As my local fling with Brett heated up, I began to wonder if my virtual affair with Daniel had fizzled. Then I received a text from him that took my breath away,
9:17 PM
DANIEL: Missing u
MAGS: Hi!
DANIEL: :)
DANIEL: Missing me?
MAGS: Yes, very much
DANIEL: What’s been occupying your time, sexy?
MAGS: Cocky jock
DANIEL: Really?!
MAGS: Yes, jealous?
DANIEL: No, horny
MAGS: Not mad?
DANIEL: Mags, I live almost a continent away, of course I’m not mad
I was a little bothered that he wasn’t,
MAGS: Ok, good
DANIEL: Was it?
MAGS: Was it what?
DANIEL: Good
MAGS: Very
DANIEL: Care to share?
MAGS: What?
DANIEL: The sordid details
MAGS: Where shall I begin?
DANIEL: At the very beginning, of course
MAGS: May require a call
DANIEL: Dialing now…
Picking up on the first ring, I said, “Hi, Danny Boy.” After some urging, I began describing steamy scenes between Brett and me, shifting my tone from schoolmarm to sex kitten—make that a jungle cat.
“Hey, naughty girl. So tell me, what have you been up to, into, and tell me about what has been into you,” Daniel’s voice coated my body with tingling sensations that felt like pinpricks.
“Cock, lots of cock. And tongue, so much licking and sucking—a delicious blend of cum and pussy juice.”
“Yours?”
“All mine, though two pussies would be fun, wouldn’t it?”
“Tell me all about it, don’t leave out a thing.” It was apparent that Daniel wanted me to take over, provide a running monologue of my sexual escapades with Brett so he could sit back, stroke his cock, and cum to images of me fucking some other guy’s brains out. Ordinarily not my strong suit, I’d developed quite a flair for storytelling, and it thrilled me that I could captivate Daniel. For once, I was in control.
***
I’d asked Katie to come with me to DIA, an ever-expanding international airport situated east of downtown. Denver had annexed fifty-four square miles from a neighboring city to develop its vision for a twenty-first century airport. It was a thirty-minute drive from the Denver metro area, unless rush hour had consumed all concrete arteries, making it more like an hour. I didn’t mind making the trip alone, actually preferred it. But I was worried that the twins would be anxious having flown unaccompanied and might want company; they adored their great-auntie who adored them right back.
Katie’s place was a stone’s throw from mine. She’d fallen in love with the house Jack and I bought right after we were married and swore she’d find something for herself in the neighborhood. She finally did a few years later, making it a five-minute walk between our houses; less than a minute drive. We’d grown to respect each other’s privacy—a good thing, since Brett and I had been seeing each other four or five times a week, usually at my place. However, whenever we scheduled a shopping trip or an excursion to DIA, the quarter-mile trek was most convenient.
I texted Katie when I woke,
Today, 6:07 AM
MAGS: Morning sunshine
KATIE: Really? 6 effin oclock? What time is the flight?
MAGS: Noon
KATIE: Dammit mags
MAGS: Just chking to see if u r still on
KATIE: Better chk to see if u r still sane
MAGS: LOL, pick u up around 11, k?
KATIE: Better have my latte waiting for me, going back to bed
MAGS: Ta-ta
KATIE: What??
MAGS: Nothing
KATIE: U r certifiable – latr
I’d used Daniel’s favorite farewell without even thinking. Luckily, Katie was half asleep and didn’t call me out for using something she’d never heard before. We were very close as children and knew each other better than anyone else; a slight change in behavior would stand out like an elephant in a petting zoo.
Making my way to the kitchen, I noticed Cody patiently waiting for his breakfast, so I poured a heaping scoop of kibble. As I thought about what I wanted for breakfast, a pair of panties, lying rumpled on the dining-room table, caught my eye. I smiled, recalling the night before when Brett and I fucked up one side of the house and down the other. I’d made a mental note to go through each room with a fine-tooth comb. My stomach interrupted my thoughts with a loud growl, and I opened the fridge. An increased libido, courtesy of Daniel and Brett, left me less interested in food, which meant I had nothing in my fridge. Slamming the door shut, I headed out for a scone and a latte.
On the way, Brett called, “Hey Mags, excited to pick up the kiddos?”
I was touched that he remembered. “Hi Brett. Yeah, I really am! Have the house all squared away and looking forward to two crazy weeks with my rowdy clan. Guess what I found this morning?” I giggled softly.
“Dunno, what?” Suddenly, Brett seemed preoccupied.
“My black lace panties, the pair you so expertly removed when we were in the dining room…” I said coyly, apparently unto deaf ears. “Brett, you there?”
“Hang on just a sec, ok?” His tone had turned from cheerful to irritated; not with me, but with whatever had stolen his attention. I hadn’t experienced this side of Brett before and was perturbed.
Moments later, Brett said, “Sorry Mags, I got distracted with something.” And then I heard an angry voice in the distance. A woman’s voice.
I felt like I’d been punched in the gut. My mood instantly soured, and I said, “Something or
someone
?” Stunned, I waited for Brett’s reply.
“Mags, it’s nothing. An old flame keeps coming around, and she just doesn’t get that I’m not interested. That’s it, really.” I was struck how swiftly Brett could move from cheerful to angry…to hospitable.
Not sure I wanted to know the answer, I asked, “How
old
of a flame, Brett, how long ago did it go out?” Anger brewing, I waited for his reply.
Shifting smoothly to contrite, Brett said, “I dunno, couple of weeks maybe?”
I quickly did the math and determined that his attempt to extinguish the flame occurred after we’d gone out the first time. I was “seeing” Daniel, sure, but a text message was not the same as having someone inside you.
Or was it?
“For fuck’s sake, Brett. Okay, I get it. Wow. Am I a fool or what?” Completely exasperated, I said goodbye and ended the call. I shut the ringer off too, anticipating an apology call, which came seconds later. Ignoring it, I stuffed the phone into my pocket.
No longer interested in a latte, I went to the market to pick up a few things for breakfast. As I walked through the automated doors, I realized that I hadn’t thought about filling the fridge for the kids, so my shopping list went from breakfast fixins for me to an inventory any commercial kitchen would envy. I was able to keep thoughts of Brett at bay, at least for the time being, and focused on the fun I’d have cooking for my grandkids.
Several hundred dollars and five shopping bags later, I made my way home. It was nine-thirty, leaving me a little over an hour to unpack the groceries, shower, dab on a bit of make-up, and pick up Katie. Still, thoughts of Brett crept up every few minutes, but I promptly shoved them back—he didn’t deserve better real estate than that.
You’re full of shit, Maggie.
Laced with hypocrisy, my reaction to Brett was irrational, and my long-distance secret toyed with my conscience.
“Fuck you, Brett, you motherfucking cocksucker!”
Swearing was the salve I typically applied when I felt hurt or betrayed and, just then, I needed several applications. As I ranted in the shower, I had a sudden, random thought of Daniel. I smiled, thinking about how often Daniel came to mind while showering. Not only was he an instrument for sexual pleasure, but he’d also become an emotional refuge, a place where I could go to avoid pain and suffering. Holy shit, was I an addict?
Knock it off, Mags, no time for this…
I reluctantly stepped out of the shower and moved to the bedroom where I’d laid out clothes, just in case I ran out of time, which I had. Ten minutes later, I was on the road, headed toward Katie’s house. Timmy and Lisbeth would be in my arms in a few hours, joy and laugher filling the house once more.
***
It was the height of the summer travel season and people from all walks of life had flooded the state in search of the best recreation and dining spots. I couldn’t wait to leave the mayhem, load the kids into Beater and head home for some much needed R & R.
“Nana! Nana!” Timmy and Lisbeth locked on to me, fleeing the side of the flight attendant who had escorted them to the hand off point.
“Timmy! Lizzy! Oh my goodness, look how you’ve grown!” I swooped them from the kind young man, bent down and held them close. I breathed in their scent, hoping to catch a whiff of Michael.
“Nana, look what we got!” Timmy, the oldest by nine minutes, pulled out plastic captain’s wings the airline staff doles out to traveling kids. Lisbeth raised her pin to my eyes, and they both anticipated my response with the kind of enthusiasm Cody displays during a game of fetch.