I sat on the fallen log for a moment catching my breath, the sun beating down on my shoulders. I wiped a small bead of sweat from my forehead. Running had always been a good way for me to release frustration and stress, especially after stupid quarrels with Mike. It seems that I've been going out running a lot more the last couple months.
Things have never exactly been perfect between us, but we were more distant lately. This didn't bother me, but it clearly irritated him that I wanted more space. Then again, what could i possibly do these days that wouldn't make him mad? I guess i can't blame the guy; I was a couple months away from being 100% financially self-sufficient, and from being ready to file the divorce papers. He knew this, and he wasn't helping his cause out any by being a prick.
My mind was made up, has been for a while. I'd thought it through long and hard, and ultimately decided that leaving him was something I needed to do. Hell, what was there to lose? Yes, we do have a daughter, but she'll be okay, and she doesn't need to grow up around us arguing. He and I didn't see eye-to-eye any more.
We had little to no communication, very little patience left for each other, and to be honest I wasn't in love with him anymore. Not to mention our once active sex life had gradually dwindled down to a nauseating feeling down in my stomach. We often used to fuck 2-3 times every day. Even then he would occasionally complain that I was "too sexually demanding." Ha, I didn't know such a thing existed! Now I can't even think about sleeping with him. I moved on; found other ways to satisfy my "demanding" needs.
And I thoroughly enjoyed it, too. See, when you're an 18-year-old MILF, and a tomboy, and you're known to be a freak in the bedroom, it's not too excruciatingly hard to find a willing participant. Mike was too oblivious to ever know I was sleeping with someone else. All he knew was that I sure as hell wasn't sleeping with him.
He always got mad when I shot him down and he blamed it on the fact that I had gotten my first dildo a year or so before, and that I would rather use it than have sex. Boy, could he have been any more wrong? My sentiment was actually quite the opposite, I'd much rather have the real deal. But there's no reason for me to try and change his mind, now is there?
My tangent of thought is cut off by the rumble of an airplane passing overhead. I stand up and stretch briefly, then continue running the course back toward my house. As I progress down the trail, my mind wanders off back to sex. I noticed that I tend to do that A LOT.
I thought about the circumstances of the affair. It was forbidden, but that made it all the more exciting. It was risky, but we both need the escape from our spouses. I didn't really care at this point. We were both unhappy in our marriages; I was just a little more fortunate because I was getting a divorce. He wanted out, but wasn't in the position to do it yet. And there was a strong mutual attraction among our similarities. Call it "Friends with benefits," or what have you, but it was great sex with no strings attached. And it was an awesome adrenaline rush.
It's like the best of all the forbidden fantasies you'd expect someone to have, or to read about. The husband sleeping with the babysitter; the "loving" wife that's blowing her husband's boss; the friend that's banging your wife behind your back. Yes, it's all-around immoral, but it's so sexy and way too much fun to quit now. On top of that, he gets me turned on like never before and it's absolutely amazing.
I get back to my house and start the shower. While I wait I check my phone, which was left on the charger while I went for a run. One missed call and two text messages. The missed call is from some 800 number, not important. I look at the texts, both from the very guy I was just thinking about. The first one reads "good morning." The second one, sent about ten minutes after the first, "What you up to? Have lots of free time today..." If I wasn't smiling after the first message, i sure was after the second. I unplug it and reply as I walk back to the bathroom.
"Yeah, morning.:) Not much; just got home. Taking a shower......You?" I wait a couple minutes with no response, so I strip off my shirt and bra, then my shorts and underwear and jump in. I expect to hear the text message alert during the course of my shower, but I don't. I shut off the water, reach out to grab a towel and wrap it around me. I step out and check the screen to see no change, still no text. I dry my hair really quick and head to my bedroom to get clothes and dress.