Thank you for reading my stories, and I am sorry if the wait between chapters is longer than you would like. I am doing my best, and promise to keep writing them as long as the response to them is positive. As always, rating and commenting on the stories are greatly appreciated, and if you would like to make suggestions as to possible scenarios you like to see my characters attempt, please fire them at me.
Also, I know that I have other storylines currently still running, but this idea popped into my head and I felt it would make a great story. The good news is that it will involve another woman of the Arbor Heights area, and potentially lead to some interesting encounters with other characters from other stories. I do hope you will enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it.
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My name is Wendy, and this is the story of how I stepped out on my marriage, and fell hard for a black man. Let me start by first giving some background about myself. I am a 40 year old mother and wife. Currently I am still married, going on 19 years, to a wonderful husband who is unaware of my promiscuity. My daughter is 18 years old, and a senior in high school, which upon reflection may be the reason I got into my current situation.
I was thinking about how sad it will be to see my daughter go off to college and become a full fledged adult, and that caused me to begin thinking about my young adult life before having a family. I began thinking about the things I use to do, and the things I always wanted to do but never got the chance too. When I was younger, and heck even now until recently, I have always been a little hesitant to seek out adventure. It is because of this personality trait, that as I reflected on my past, I started to wonder if I had missed out; if I had really had a good time when I had the chance.
This thought processes fogged my head for days and days. I had no idea how to shake it, or to get over the idea that I missed out on youthful experiences. I wanted to go back and push myself to try new things, and meet different people. However, being realistic, I knew that was not possible. I was a housewife, and stay at home mom; there was nothing I could see that would allow me to change that. Unexpectedly though, the universe seemed to step in and help me reshape my life.
It happened during an impromptu visiting of my bank. I had misplaced my debit card, and was looking to get a new one. After waiting for a banker to assist me, I shook hands with the man that would change my life forever. His name was Jerome, and I immediately came to the conclusion that he is the most gorgeous black man I had ever seen. He is tall and muscular, has a shaved bald head, and a smile that can light up a room while at the same time melt the heart of any woman.
As he assisted me with my problem, I was constantly flustered being around him. I have no way of explaining it, but he just seemed to exude an aura of power and control. I felt very defenseless around him, and almost in a weird way servile to him. I kept apologizing to him for the fact that I was forgetful enough to misplace my debit, and he just assured me that it wasn't an issue and that he would take care of me. The way he said he would take care of me hinted at something deeper than just with my card, but also all of me.
I'm sure that to anyone looking on from the outside it would have just been a simple interaction between a customer and a bank representative, but to me it was an electric moment. However, Jerome was the perfect gentleman, and dutiful worker. He took care of my issue, and handed me a replacement card after just a few minutes from when he first shook my hand. It felt silly being so impacted by such a short meeting, but I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to it than just a simple banking transaction.
The weight of the encounter stayed with me, and I kept trying to process why I was reading so into a brief encounter. It wasn't until I stopped off a local coffee shop to get a latte that I realized I was wrong about Jerome and his signals. As I pulled my new debit card out to pay for my drink, I noticed that it had something stuck to the back side of it. What I found was a small sticky note with a phone number and the message, "Call Me" written on it. Instantly I knew it was from Jerome; he was the only other person to have touched the card. My stomach flipped with excitement, and then fluttered with anxiety as to what to do with the number.
I wasn't usually the type of woman that got flirted with or hit on so openly. Standing at five feet tall, and having a slightly curvy body, most often I am looked past by men. I have what many men in my past have called a cute look. My hair, auburn brown, is about chin length and slightly wavy. My breasts are an average size, 32B, and my curves are flattering; especially my butt. Basically, I'm your typical short, cute, mom. Not the type that men come flocking too, so in a way, Jerome giving me his number was very much so a pleasant boost to my self confidence. However, it also made me feel guilty, as I was married.
I love my husband, and he loves me. He works weekdays and the occasional weekend, but is very attentive and caring. Of course, the spark of our marriage has died down over the years, but we do still try and please one another. I would never have thought of cheating on him, but with Jerome's number in my hand, the idea to cut loose and experience something new popped into my head. The fog of regret lifted, and I didn't want the opportunity to seek whatever adventure his number had for me slip away. I went back and forth about whether to call him or not as I drove home, but once I stepped inside my house and was in my comfortable, predictable life, I made the decision to throw caution to the wind and see what would happen if I called.
He answered after the first ring, and I almost hung up. But after he said hello for the second time, I timidly answered his hello and spoke to him. I indicated that I was the woman from earlier that he had helped with the debit car and had given his number to. He chuckled and said he knew who I was and was happy that I called. I asked why he had given me his number, and he just stated that I seemed to be lost and thought I might enjoy getting to know him. I almost sensed that he read me and could tell I was looking for adventure. Since I was, I decided to not back off, but instead continue moving forward down this unknown path.
I nervously asked, "I think I would enjoy getting to know you more. When can we get together to talk?"
"Well, I'm off from the bank tomorrow, so how does getting lunch sound," he replied.
I took a moment to think before responding, "Uhhh, yeah that would be good. Where should we meet at?"
"I know of a place that is great. You will love it. I'll text you the address and we can meet at let's say 10," was his reply.
My response was a little unsure, "Okay. Yeah that will work for me. Should I dress any particular way? Is it a nice place or casual?"