One Number Off (closed)

IvoryValentine

Really Really Experienced
Joined
Mar 10, 2012
Posts
450
It had been a long day. Steven had been away on business for 2 weeks now and last time they spoke, he said it was going to take longer than he had been originally told, so maybe another 2 weeks. The water heater had blown up in the basement and the plumber had charged Molly more that she thought was fair. She got a flat on the way home from the grocery store and by the time she wrestled the old one off and put on the spare, her ice cream had melted. As she pulled away, Molly realized she'd left her phone on the ground, only to find she'd run over it. Just about in tears she had stood at the cell counter where she'd bought it only a week before only to be told she'd have to buy a new one because she still had 3 years on her contract. They couldn't save her memory card or her sim card so she lost all her photo's and contacts.

All the while she had been texting her husband.... or at least till she ran over her phone. He told her that the plumber had charged her more because she was a woman, and that she must have gotten the flat on purpose so that someone would have to stop and help her like some floozy from Southie. He knew it upset her to mention where she'd grown up like it was something beneath him.

By the time Molly stumbled through her door, she felt physically and emotionally drained. A hot bath and a gin and tonic later, Molly sat on the love seat in the living room of their 2 story house in the suburb of Newton, outside Boston. The house and yard were perfect, clean, well manicured and updated. She looked down at her manicured nails and her reflection in her martini glass. Her ginger locks fell about her shoulders framing her face. Even though she was alone, her make up was perfect too. But no matter what she did, her eyes always looked dull and sad. with a heavy sigh, Molly backed down her drink then stood to pour another.

Her new cell sat on the coffee table next to her coaster. She knew she should text Steven again. The marriage councilor had said they both needed to make an effort to keep communication but it hurt that he never texted or called her. That she was the one who had to reach out first. Why couldn't he text right now and see if she was alright? Couldn't he call just to say goodnight when he got back to the hotel?

After another gin and tonic, Molly picked up the cell and punched in his number into the contacts. If she had paid a little more attention, might have seen that the last number she entered was a 1 and not a 4. She slipped off the couch and walked barefoot across the living room to their over sized wedding portrait above the fire place and took a picture of Steven's smug face. With all this entered she flopped down on the couch and drew her feet up beside her. After one more sip of her drink, she looked down at the tight black silk nighty peeking out from under her short, sage green silk robe. Maybe if she sent Steven a sexy text he might give her a little positive attention. Though he did often say she could loose a little chunk from her hips, Molly was a perfect hourglass, with soft round, D breasts.

One more sip and Molly brought up Steven in her address book and texted, "I'm sitting here all alone and wish you were here. I'm wearing that tight little back nighty you like so much. You know, the one that's so low in the back that it barely covers my round ass." and she pressed send.
 
The beer was cheap, but the atmosphere was what mattered. Jack missed the days when people could smoke in bars, though; he didn't smoke himself, but he missed the hazy air. Made everything a little bit unreal, and he needed that at the end of a long day on the job site.

Jack leaned on his elbows at the bar, watching the younger guys from his crew in the mirror behind the bar as they tossed cheap lines at girls. He sipped his beer and shook his head and grinned; it might be at least one of the guys would be bringing donuts in the morning--the girl Jimmy was talking to kept touching his arm and laughing too loudly.

Jack sighed and sipped his beer again, looking around the bar. No women here he was interested in. They were all too young, too loud, trying too hard. They were beautiful, sure. And he saw some of them eyeing him, looking him over. He could take one home if he wanted to.

He just wasn't sure that's what he wanted anymore. It was too easy, and he missed the chase, the long tease. The seduction.

He tipped his head back, tossing down the last of his beer. He dropped a twenty on the bar--a generous Tip for two cheap beers, but Tommy behind the bar was an old friend, and his gig as the construction site foreman certainly paid enough that it didn't matter.

As he stood up to go, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He pulled it out, and read the message: "I'm sitting here all alone and wish you were here. I'm wearing that tight little back nighty you like so much. You know, the one that's so low in the back that it barely covers my round ass."

Jack sunk back down onto his stool. He didn't recognize the number of the sender. Watching the mating dance in the bar all night had left him feeling a little lonely. A slow grin slid across his face and he shrugged. This could be fun, he thought.

He waved for Tommy to bring him another beer and thumbed in a reply. "Mmm. My favorite. I'd love to kiss the back of your neck, my hands squeezing your hips. Kiss down along your spine until my chin brushes the bottom of that nighty, my lips on the top of your ass."

He hit send with a satisfied grin. Whoever she is, see if she likes that!
 
Molly sat and waited for Steven's reply. Why had she sent it? Wishful thinking she supposed. He would most likely respond with some degrading comment. The soft bell ringtone and a vibration to follow told her that her husband had replied. For a moment, she left it on the table and took another sip of her drink. With a knot of dread in her stomach, Molly picked up her phone and read his reply.


"Mmm. My favorite. I'd love to kiss the back of your neck, my hands squeezing your hips. Kiss down along your spine until my chin brushes the bottom of that nighty, my lips on the top of your ass."

A soft giggle escaped her lips as she reread the text a few times. She could hardly believe it. Maybe he had felt bad for all the negative things he had texted her earlier that day. Maybe he was feeling frisky and the reminder of the black nighty had sparked his interest in her. Whatever had come over him, Molly wasn't going to question it to much and jinx the chance to relight his desire for her.

But what to text back? She honestly didn't expect it to go anywhere. With another giggle, Molly layed back on the couch and texted, "That would feel so good! I love your hands on my body.... I love your lips on my body."
 
His phone buzzed again. Jack looked at the sender and grinned. He was surprised she wrote back.

But he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the eyes. Or whatever that saying was.

"That would feel so good! I love your hands on my body...I love your lips on my body."

Jack sipped his beer, missing the smell of tobacco mixing with its taste in his mouth, and pondered. How far will she take this?

He shrugged mentally. She'll stop if she wants to stop. Until then...

Jack glanced around the bar. Watched Jimmy kiss his soon-to-be-conquest, his hands slipping down to pull her hips into him. God, he needed a good lay.

He picked up his phone and tapped out a message.

"I grab your hips, holding them tightly as I kiss the small of your back. I grab the fabric under my hands...bunching it in my fingers...sliding it up,over your hips..."

Jack sipped his beer, reread the message, and hit send.
 
Molly set her cell down on her chest between her breasts. Her heart was racing. She could hardly believe it that he had replied and in the way he did. It had been so long since sex between them was anything more than a blow job. Maybe he was finally taking the advice of the marriage councilor. Maybe he still cared for her after all. Feeling rather warm all of a sudden, Molly undid the ribbon that held her silk robe closed and shed the garment.

Her phone vibrated on her chest and she picked it up excitedly. "I grab your hips, holding them tightly as I kiss the small of your back. I grab the fabric under my hands...bunching it in my fingers...sliding it up,over your hips..."


Molly licked her lips and rolled over onto her stomach. She imagined the feeling of his lips slowly kissing down her back. As her eyes closed, Molly reached down and slowly ran her hands over her hips, craving the touch of a pair of big strong hands as she pulled her nighty up to her waist. She ran her hand over her lower back, where her small butterfly tattoo was. Steven had refused to fuck her from behind because he could see it. He always said it made her look like a cheep tramp. For a moment she wondered if he was imagining her without it right now. Dismissing the thought, Molly gave a soft moan and reached for her phone again, slowly texting, "I hope you don't mind but i didn't bother with my panties tonight. I slowly bend at the waist and grip the back of the couch. I've always wanted you to bend me over like this." then she pressed send.
 
Jack couldn’t help but keep looking at his phone. He tried to pretend he wasn’t; he kept telling himself he was checking the time, or he’d open his email. But really he was he was willing it to buzz again—he wanted to know what she was going to text back. If she was going to text him back.

He checked the time again. He wasn’t counting, but it had been about four minutes since he sent his last text. He rolled his eyes at his own anxiety, put the phone down again, and took a swallow of his beer. He squinted at his reflection in the mirror behind the bar, his eyes looking back at him from between bottles of Wild Turkey and Makers Mark, Absolut and Stoly. He was pushing forty, and he was starting to look it. The wrinkles around his eyes never seemed to go away. There was almost as much grey as black in his hair.

He ran his hands over his head with a scowl. Bah, he thought. I’m not old. I’m just…well aged.

His phone buzzed again, and he grabbed it off the bar almost immediately. “I hope you don't mind but i didn't bother with my panties tonight. I slowly bend at the waist and grip the back of the couch. I've always wanted you to bend me over like this.”

His heart beat a little faster. Whoever she is, she’s into it. He ran his hand over his cheek, considering how to respond. Does she know I’m just some random guy?

Deciding he didn't care that much--that he'd roll with it if she would--he typed, “Oh, yeah, baby. Bend over. Spread yourself for me, honey. I want to kiss the back of your thighs. Rub my face all over your skin. I want to taste you,” and hit send.
 
Molly slowly rose to her knees and turned so her hands were on the back of the couch. She was so turned on. She needed this so bad. The thought that he wanted her still. That she was still desirable. That, despite all the hurtful things he said, there was still a spark between them.

Slowly, Molly slipped her hand over the stomach and between her legs. Just as her middle finger slipped between her soft folds the cell buzzed in her hand.

“Oh, yeah, baby. Bend over. Spread yourself for me, honey. I want to kiss the back of your thighs. Rub my face all over your skin. I want to taste you,”


Steven had never been interested in tasting her. For a moment she wondered what had come over him, but quickly dismissed it to making an effort to make things work. As she fumbled with the phone to type a reply, Molly's finger slipped into her wet pussy. "Oh, yes! I've always wanted you to kiss me there, to slip you tongue inside me and lick me. I'm so wet right now. I'm fingering myself, imagining it's your tongue."
 
Jack grabbed his phone off the bar before it finished buzzing. Looking at the screen, his grin faded as he saw it was just an email alert. As he turned the phone over, however, the screen flashed and his heart beat a little faster, seeing it was a reply from the mysterious sexy text partner.

He thumbed the screen, opening the text. *"Oh, yes! I've always wanted you to kiss me there, to slip you tongue inside me and lick me. I'm so wet right now. I'm fingering myself, imagining it's your tongue." He felt heat rush to his cheeks. Squirming a little on his barstool, he glanced around the room. He knew no one could see his phone, know what he was reading...but still, he suddenly felt self-conscious.

This was moving well past flirting. He ran his hand over his head, wondering how far he was willing to take things.

He glanced again at his reflection in the mirror.

Ah, what the hell, he thought, dropping cash on the bar and finishing his beer. He slipped his phone into his pocket and headed out the door, waving to Jimmy--who, face buried in his new friend's neck, didn't even notice.

He walked briskly to his pickup, the hot air still humid this late at night, sweat beading lightly on his forehead. He slipped inside, rolling his window down, and pulled out his phone.

"Oh baby, you're so beautiful. I can picture you there, your hands on the couch, your nighty bunched around your waist, " he typed. His face was flushed. "I part my lips. Blow gently over your opening. Press my mouth against your lips softly. My tongue brushing over them."

He adjusted himself so his growing arousal would find more room and hit send.
 
Molly continued pumping her finger into her pussy, her knuckle rubbing her clit as she slid her finger in and out. She remembered the first time they had slept together. How much of an animal Steven had been. How he had nearly ripped her dress off and thrown her down on the bed. His hands as he dragged her back to the edge of the high mattress and the feeling as he pushed himself all the way in on the first thrust. Molly let out a moan as she set the phone down next to her knee and grabbed her breast. She slowly pulled down the front of her nighty and as she reached for her breast, remembering how Steven had sucked on her nipples so hard she had cried out in pain.... the bell rang again followed by a quick vibration.

With a fumbling hand, Molly picked it up and read, "Oh baby, you're so beautiful. I can picture you there, your hands on the couch, your nighty bunched around your waist. I part my lips. Blow gently over your opening. Press my mouth against your lips softly. My tongue brushing over them."

Molly moaned softly as she slowly slid her finger out of her pussy and slipped them to her mouth. Slowly she licked her juices from each digit, remembering a time back in collage when she and a room mate had shared a guy they picked up at the bar. She never admitted it happening to Steven, that was way before they met, but she loved the taste of pussy, even if it was her own.

With both hands, Molly texted back. "I'm so wet for you. I want to feel you lick me. I crave your lips on my shaved pussy. Soft and smooth just the way you like it. I wish you were laying on the couch under me. Stripped of your cloths. I want to feel your arms wrapped around me as I lower my pussy to your face. I want to take the tip of your cock in my mouth, using my tongue to lick your shaft the same as you pleasure me with yours. Mmmmmm, I love 69" As Molly fell back onto the couch, her hand returning to her clit as she pressed send.
 
Jack sat in his truck, window down, hot breeze blowing across his face. His hand rested on the steering wheel, holding his phone, and he stared at the screen, willing his mysterious partner's response to appear. His other rested on his thigh, his thumb running up and down his erection.

His hand jerked when his phone buzzed, and Jack thumbed the screen.

"I'm so wet for you. I want to feel you lick me. I crave your lips on my shaved pussy. Soft and smooth just the way you like it. I wish you were laying on the couch under me. Stripped of your clothes. I want to feel your arms wrapped around me as I lower my pussy to your face. I want to take the tip of your cock in my mouth, using my tongue to lick your shaft the same as you pleasure me with yours. Mmmmmm, I love 69."

Jack's whole hand slipped around the erection in his pants and he groaned. Jesus, this woman is wicked hot..., he thought his hips unconsciously thrusting up into his hand.

He looked out the window over the empty lot adjacent to the parking lot. The lot was empty. A single streetlight was on the corner, a couple of hundred feet from his truck. The only light in the cab came from his phone, glowing in front of him.

He lifted his hand from his lap and ran it though his hair, blowing out a sigh between his lips. He closed his eyes, and his hand slipped into the pocket of his jeans, wrapping around his cock as he slowly stroked himself, considering his reply.

He had to pull, his hand from his pocket to type. "Shit, you taste so good. Salty and sweet. I want to push my tongue inside you, slipping between your lips. Opening you. My hands on your thighs while you suck my cock. I try to keep my hips on the couch, but I can't help myself--I push them up, trying to get deeper in your mouth."

As he hit send, Jack looked around the lot one more time, breathing in the salty smell of the ocean in the faint breeze. Finding the lot empty, unbuttoned his jeans, and pulled his zipper down.
 
Molly reached down and set her cell between her heaving breasts and gripped the couch cushion as she felt her orgasm building. She kept thinking about how it would feel to have Steven eating her pussy. The feel of his hands all over her body.

Then, the cordless phone rang. At first, Molly was startled. She reached for the second phone that lay on the coffee table, her fingers sliding out from between her legs and resting on her hip. On the call display was Steven's name and cell number. Molly's heart quickened still. He had had enough text play and now wanted to hear her voice. To hear her pant his name. To hear her cum for him.

"Hello!" Molly said as she placed the phone to her ear. Molly wanted to hear him tell her he loved her, wanted her, needed her. Instead he greeted her with, "What kind of idiot runs over their own phone? Do you think I make money just so you can do shit like that? God!"

Confused didn't even begin to describe Molly's feelings. How could he go from so hot to so cold in a matter of seconds? "I..... thought that..."

Steven cut her off, "Well there's a surprise: I didn't think you ever "thought" at all. You spoiled my whole day. You cost me more than I think you're worth some days."

Molly wanted to cry. Just when she thought he still had feelings for her, that he desired her, he said things like this. To further her confusion, the cell phone on her chest gave a soft ring. She picked it up as Steven continued telling her how much he had to put up with.

"Shit, you taste so good. Salty and sweet. I want to push my tongue inside you, slipping between your lips. Opening you. My hands on your thighs while you suck my cock. I try to keep my hips on the couch, but I can't help myself--I push them up, trying to get deeper in your mouth."


Molly's heart began to pound and her head spin. It wasn't Steven texting her. It couldn't be: he was on his phone. With shaking hands, she scrolled to the contacts and to Steven's name..... and that's when she saw the number: one number off of her husbands.

Oh God! What had she done? And who had she done it with? Why would anyone write like that to someone they didn't know? What would Steven say when he found out?

"...... and I'm tired. I'll be an extra 4 days. I'll see you when you pick me up from the airport." then Steven hung up without saying goodbye. Not that Molly would have been able to say anything.

Tears of panic began to well up in Molly's eyes. How could she let a stranger bring her to close to climax? She wanted it to be Steven so badly that she had ignored how he had wanted to do things that her husband would never do. Touch her. Taste her. Want her.

With shaking hands she texted. "I'm sorry. I thought you were someone else."
 
Jack's breathing was heavy as his fingers toyed with the tab of his zipper, contemplating how far he was willing to go. Whoever she was, her messages were making him incredibly hard, and he wanted some relief. But could he, here, in his truck, parked outside his favorite bar? He glanced around the lot, confirming he was still alone. He sighed, and eased his zipper down, slowly.

He nearly dropped his phone as it vibrated. He thumbed the screen, and read, "I'm sorry. I thought you were someone else."

The hand on his zipper hesitated. Jack's face was flushed, his heart was racing, and he couldn't catch his breath for a moment. He read the message again, trying to wrap his head around his mystery partner's sudden change in demeanor. A wrong number?

Jack took a deep breath, blowing it out hard. Willing his heart rate, and his erection, to subside. He could use a cold shower. Maybe a quick dip in the ocean. Or a crawl through broken glass. He shook his head. What the hell had he been about to do? He pulled his zipper back up quickly.

He stared at his phone, considering. He could just pretend it had never happened. Throw his truck in gear, drive home, pretending he wasn't turned on, pretending he didn't suddenly feel a little hollow. Jack glanced at his rear view mirror, catching his own gaze.

Or he could send her another message. Surely she had enjoyed it as much as he had?

He stared at the screen, choosing his words. "Sorry?" he typed. "I don't know who you are, and I don't much think it matters. That was hot. I'm so turned on right now. I'm sitting in my truck, outside a bar. I very nearly had my pants undone and...well...you can imagine. I just thought you should know that's how sexy you are. I'm glad you got me, and not whoever you meant this for."

"I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did."

He reread his message. Then thumbed, "send."
 
Molly layed there and simply cried. She felt so alone. Steven didn't want her and the only thing that kept him with her was that they didn't have a prenup so he'd have to give her half. And the man who had talked about kissing her and touching her, wanting to taste her and just simply wanting her didn't even know her. He was likely laughing at her where ever he was.

As Molly wallowed in her self pity, her cell rang again. For a moment, she left in laying on her chest. He'd likely laugh at her, or swear at her for being a tease or call her a slut or a whore. Finally, with shaking hands, Molly picked up the cell and read the message.

"Sorry? I don't know who you are, and I don't much think it matters. That was hot. I'm so turned on right now. I'm sitting in my truck, outside a bar. I very nearly had my pants undone and...well...you can imagine. I just thought you should know that's how sexy you are. I'm glad you got me, and not whoever you meant this for. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did."

Molly smiled, despite her tears and reread it a second time. She couldn't help bit giggle. Some how in one text, he made up for all the nasty things Steven had said all day. Not only did he think she what she said was hot but he wanted her to know that he thought she was sexy. He wanted her to know how she turned him on. He wanted her to enjoy it too.

She wanted to text him back but she knew she shouldn't. Still she found things in this perfect stranger in half an hour that her husband hadn't show her in 10 years of marriage.

"Goodnight" was all she could come up with and pressed send. Maybe he would text her again, even though she knew she shouldn't.
 
It was hot, and sticky, and Jack's hair was sweaty under his hard hat. The sun had been beating down all day as his crew laid rebar for the road pour tomorrow, and he was out there with them, baking away. He pulled off his hat, and ran his arm across his forehead, wiping away the sweat before it dripped onto his sunglasses.

Of course, he was with them in body, but his mind was somewhere else.

He resisted the urge to pull out his phone. There was no reason to expect he'd receive another message from her. His mysterious, incredibly sexy, text messager from the night before. With the black lingerie, no panties, and the wet...

Jack shook his head, settling his hard hat back on his head as he walked to his truck, the work day over. He hadn't heard from her. And she'd made it pretty clear with her final message, "Goodbye," that he wouldn't. But he wanted to.

Boy, did he want to.

Who was she? Who in her life turned her on so much? And why couldn't he meet a woman who was that hot?

Jack slipped behind the wheel of his truck, pulling his phone out of his back pocket so he wouldn't sit on it. He glanced at the screen. Ah, hell.

"Hey," he typed. "I couldn't stop thinking about you all day. I don't know who you are, but you've got me under some kind of spell. I hope you found your partner, and that you got the enjoyment you so clearly wanted. And I hope he knows how lucky he is to have a sexy woman like you."

He read his message over once, shrugged to himself, and hit, "send."
 
A year ago, Molly would have cried herself to sleep, but now she just felt numb. The next morning, she texted Steven to say Goodmorning and wish him a good day. He texted back that he was busy all day so not to text him again. That he would call her tomorrow night if he had time. Molly felt so small and unimportant and it set the mood for the rest of her day.

All day, Molly walked about, doing the housework and running errands with a black cloud over her head. Later in the day, she made supper for two out of habit and set the table as if he would be home. She found all she could do was pick at her salad. As she cleared the dishes, putting Steven's back in the cupboard, her phone vibrated on the counter.

Not expecting anyone to text, Molly picked it up and slowly read, "Hey, I couldn't stop thinking about you all day. I don't know who you are, but you've got me under some kind of spell. I hope you found your partner, and that you got the enjoyment you so clearly wanted. And I hope he knows how lucky he is to have a sexy woman like you."

Molly sat down at the table and stared at the message for a long time. He had been thinking about her. What surprised her was that he thought Steven was lucky to have her. That he thought she deserved enjoyment. Molly had always felt more like a burden to Steven and tried to hard to make him happy that she really couldn't remember the last time he had tried to do anything for her to bring her joy. Why would a perfect stranger bother with her, sexy text or not?

For a moment, Molly thought about texting back. But what would she say? That she had gone to sleep feeling alone and that her partner didn't think he was lucky at all to have her? No.

So she went and sat on the couch with a glass of red wine and reread the text over and over, not able to bring herself to reply.
 
Jack winced as Jimmy slapped his arm across his shoulders and dropped onto the stool beside him. "Come on, man! What's your problem? Look at those ladies over there!" He waved toward the billiard table, where two girls were talking to each other. One, the long-haired brunette whose skirt was too short and whose make up was too heavy waved and smiled at them.

The other girl--short, black hair, a cute pixie face--smiled shyly as Jack caught her eye. He turned away, and looked into his glass as he swirled the bourbon around slowly. "Come on, Jim. Those girls must be ten years younger than me. Forget it."

Jimmy laughed. "Man, what girl in here ain't ten years younger than you, old man?" Jimmy punched his shoulder. "You been moping around here for a week. I dunno what got into you, but man--these girls are ready to go, and you need to get some action."

Jack managed a half smile, but never looking up from his glass. "Tell you what, Jimmy. You take 'em both home, I'll buy you drinks every night next week."

He could picture Jimmy's eyes light up at the thought of free booze--and the challenge of landing a threesome. "You don't think I could get 'em both to come home with me, do ya?"

Jack shook his head. "Nope."

"Well, I'll show you, man. You just wait!" Pushing off the bar, Jimmy made his way back to the billiard table and the waiting young women. Jack didn't even look up.

It'd been a week since the night he'd exchanged text messages with a woman he didn't know--very, very, hot text messages. He could feel heat rush to his cheeks as he remembered the exchange...just as he had every one of the dozens of times he'd found himself surprised over the last week, imagined visions of the mysterious woman who'd sent him those detailed descriptions of touching herself popping into his head out of nowhere. They'd struck at random times--as he was driving home from work; looking at drawings with his supervisor; sitting here getting a drink from Tommy at the bar.

He couldn't get her out of his head.

He pulled out his phone and stared at the screen.

Set it down.

Stared at the bottles on the shelf in front of the mirror behind the bar.

Swirled the last of the bourbon in his glass. Swallowed it down with a wince and a gasp.

Fuck it, he thought. He grabbed his phone, and typed, "I can't get you out of my head. I find myself imagining you in your black nightie, bent over your couch. Touching yourself. You haunt me. I want you in a bad way."

He pressed send before he had a chance to decide he was making a mistake, and walked out of the bar.
 
Molly lay in bed wide awake. She had wondered around the house for an hour and couldn't find anything to do, nothing on tv, she couldn't get into a book, so she went to bed early. She'd been there for nearly half an hour but sleep wouldn't come. She kept tossing and turning, wondering how she was going to do. Things were becoming worst between her and Steven. He ignored all her text all together. She left him a few messages but was beginning to feel more like a stocked than a wife. He wasn't in town for their marriage counseling session so she had gone alone. The therapist had suggested that maybe she should take a good hard look at what she actually wanted and if it was the same thing as him. He hinted that she might want to look into a good lawyer. It was a slap in the face, leaving Molly shocked and even more numb.

So that night she lay in bed thinking about what she wanted. Her preplanned answer flashed through her mind. She wanted to make Steven happy and wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. She wanted a family when he was ready for one. She wanted to look good like he liked her to be. She wanted a clean house and a nice car...... but these were the answers Steven wanted to hear. So what did she want? It had been so long since she had thought about that, she wasn't even sure the answer. All she knew was laying there alone was not what she wanted. Jumping through hoops to try and make a man happy who never was, was not what she wanted.

A soft ring tone played on her cell phone. With a sigh she reached for it, dreading a text from Steven. It wasn't Steven though. It was the stranger who she had texted by accident.

"I can't get you out of my head. I find myself imagining you in your black nightie, bent over your couch. Touching yourself. You haunt me. I want you in a bad way."

A perfect stranger who she had ignored for nearly a week still wanted her to know he couldn't stop thinking about her and the man she so desperately tried to please couldn't be bothered to give her the time of day. Molly scrolled back into their earlier conversation. Her hand slipped beneath the covers as she reread the account. She imagined the face of a stranger kissing down her body and spreading her soft legs as she berried his face in her pussy. She let out a moan as her finger slipped between her folds. She imagined his tongue lapping up her wetness and kissing and nibbling her clit as she rubbed little circles around it. She moaned loudly as she orgasm built quickly. She looked at his last text one more time. The feeling that some one wanted her that bad sent her over the edge and she began to cum.

Molly cried out as her orgasm rocked her body, she imagined him rubbing her with his strong hand, holding her close, kissing her as she moaned into his mouth. As it began to subside, she pulled the pillows about her body and drifted off to sleep imagining him holding her close all night. Rocking her in his strong arms and promising to never let her go.
 
It was a Saturday morning. Jack was alone, lying in bed. Early morning, the sun barely lightening the sky. His head hurt--he'd drank too much at Tommy's last night, staring at himself in the mirror behind the bar and checking his phone every few minutes for a text message that never came.

One arm draped across his forehead, he stared at the ceiling. Get over it, Jack. That ship has sailed.

Jack looked at the clock on the black and chrome table beside his bed. 5:40. He was exhausted, and needed to get back to sleep if he was going to be anything other than cranky and mean all day. He sighed.

He grabbed his phone from the table, and thumbed the screen. Rereading the messages they'd exchanged, stroking himself lightly through his boxers. You're obsessed. You should stop.

Jack thumbed in a new message: "Are you sleeping beside him this morning? Are his arms around you, his hard cock pressed against you? Are his hands slipping over your breasts in his sleep, waking you slowly, as you get wet with desire? Are your hips grinding your ass against him as he rubs your nipples? God. He's lucky. I want to be him."

His erection slipped through the flies of his boxers, and he wrapped his hand around it, stroking, imagining his arms wrapped around her waist, fingers rolling her nipples around and around, his lips on her neck, slipping between her folds, thrusting into her as they lay on their sides.

His release came with a handful of soft grunts, spilling over his hand. He looked at his message and with a mental shrug hit "send." Rolling over, he fell back into a restless doze.
 
Molly got a up at 5:30 and slipped into her running cloths before heading the basement to the treadmill. Steven's flight would be in at 10 am and she wanted to get her run in and the house cleaned up before getting herself ready to pick him up. She didn't hear the text from her stranger because her cell was still upstairs but it didn't stop her from thinking about him. She wondered who he was and what he looked like. What he did for a living and what kind of person he was.

With a shake of her head, Molly wiped the sweat from her forehead and then hit the buttons, increasing the speed of the treadmill by two settings. She had other things to think about. What would she say to Steven? Would he even listen to her or just ignore her when she told him they had to sit down and decide if they were going to make their marriage work or quiet wasting their time. Again she reached up and sped the treadmill up yet again. The thought of ending things depressed Molly. But with every time her foot hit the belt, she tried to think of a time when they were in love but all the moments she had remembered became a little more clear. The things he had done for her had always benefited him. The trips he had taken her on always turned out to be a business opportunity or there happened to be something he wanted to see or do going on there at the same time. He never said he loved her unless it was to get himself out of trouble. Even sex was always centered around him. For the first time in a long time, Molly felt angry instead of sad and upset. How could she have let him treat her like this? Before they met, she had a promising future. She would have been independent and successful. Now she was a glorified housekeeper and bed warmer.

The hour timer went off and the treadmill belt began to slow. After a cool down, Molly tidied each room she passed through as she headed up stairs to take a shower and get herself ready.

The bed was already made in the master bedroom but the pillows weren't lined up with the headboard so she leaned over and adjusted them. That was when she noticed the red light on her phone blinking. Molly sat on the bed and picked up her cell. It number was her stranger and it said he had texted her at 20 to 6. Molly glanced at the clock. It was 6:45.

"Are you sleeping beside him this morning? Are his arms around you, his hard cock pressed against you? Are his hands slipping over your breasts in his sleep, waking you slowly, as you get wet with desire? Are your hips grinding your ass against him as he rubs your nipples? God. He's lucky. I want to be him."

Molly gave a very unlady like snort. Her stranger wanted to be Steven. How she was beginning to wish the same. It had been a week since she first miss texted him and he still sent her messages. He hadn't given up. Molly smiled, well he was persistent, she'd give him that. Molly bit her lip. Maybe she could give him something else.

"He's coming back to town today. With any luck, we will be like that tomorrow morning." She hesitated then hit send, replying for the first time in a week. Molly paused, staring at the cell for a moment before setting it down and heading to the shower on the on suite.
 
When Jack got out of the shower, his glance fell over his phone and he was shocked to see a message. His towel wrapped around his waist, he picked it up from the bed and thumbed the message open.

"He's coming back to town today. With any luck, we will be like that tomorrow morning."

He smiled ruefully. At least someone would be getting some action. Maybe he'd let himself fantasize about it tonight again. He chuckled; it was a nice picture.

He thumbed in a quick message: "Why wait until tomorrow? I'd drag you into the first bathroom I saw at the airport."

Jack hit send and tossed the phone back on the bed, turning to get dressed. Best to let this go, now, I guess.
 
After a quick shower, walked back into the master bedroom in a towel, drying her hair with a smaller one as she walked. Right on cue, the docking station turned on, still set to wake Steven up if he were home. Molly had set it to play some of her favorite music, a little mix of country, alternative rock and jazz. "Wreck of the Day" by Anna Nalick was first up. As the melancholy music filled the room, Molly turned and looked in the full length mirror.

Her hair fell about her bare shoulders, framing her face. She slowly let the towel fall to the floor and wondered what her stranger would think. Molly already knew all the flaws that Steven saw. He was very vocal about her hips being wider than he'd like but she had a perfect hourglass shape. Her breasts were round and perky, though Steven had suggested she get implants, calling it a Christmas present for him. Still Molly liked the way she looked.

After drying her hair and setting it in hot rollers, Molly slipped into a red sundress with white poke a dots. She did her make up and debated between her comfy flats or the "come fuck me" heals that Steven liked so much. She decided to take the heals and slip them on at the airport. Her hair fell about her shoulders in waves of ringlets as she grabbed a little denim jacket that she'd leave in the car. Just before she headed down stairs, Molly grabbed her cell.

The red light was blinking again. It was him. Molly felt a bit of excitement though she knew she shouldn't. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach as she opened the text. "Why wait until tomorrow? I'd drag you into the first bathroom I saw at the airport."

Molly couldn't help but smile. That would be the last thing she would expect Steven to do. She didn't bother replying, not knowing what to say anyway. Instead, she tossed her phone in the purse and headed out the door.


____________________________________________


Molly stood at the bottom of the escalator at the airport outside incoming domestic flights. She had been there for over two hours and already three flights from Miami had come in but Steven wasn't on any of them. The people around her were also waiting for their loved ones but each time another flight came in, the group got smaller or changed, new people arriving to pick up the people they cared about. The whole time, Molly felt horrible. Her feet hurt, she was cold, wishing she had brought her jacket in with her. The security officers were starting to give her dirty looks and an older business man had offered to take her home with him.

After a few attempts and left messages, Steven finally answered his phone. "Oh, didn't I tell you? I'm staying another week. Me and the guys are going to do some golfing." Molly could hear a group of men laugh in the back ground. She knew he was lying: Steven had left his clubs at home and refused to use rentals. "I'll call you tonight..... or something, I got to go." and with that, Steven hung up.

A little shell shocked, Molly sat down on a bench. Only a few feet away a woman ran down the escalator and jumped into the arms of a man waiting for her. In her hand, Molly felt her phone vibrate. For a moment she hoped it was her stranger but it was just an email reminding her to pay the power bill.

Before she really knew what she was doing, Molly scrolled through her texts with the stranger. Molly wanted more than anything to believe that someone could want her like that. She was angry with Steven and with herself for letting him treat her like dirt.

"I could use a cup of coffee. There's a quiet little place on Dorchester Street in Southie. PS Coffee. Do you know it?" she pause then pressed send. Not waiting for a reply, she headed for the car to put on her jacket and to get out of those fucking heals.
 
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