Forbidden Crush Part 8

Will they finally go all the way? Read on to find out!

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7

Forbidden Crush, Part 8

By Samantha Kay

Darren leant in and tenderly placed his lips on Jamie’s, as his fingertips brushed down Jamie’s cheek.

They were both still naked and laid on their sides facing one another.
Jamie sucked in a breath, as butterflies suddenly overwhelmed his stomach.
God, Darren make’s me feel so…alive.

Darren ever so slightly came away to look into Jamie’s eyes, and to gently rest his hand on his cheek.
”I really like you too, Jamie.” He spoke softly. “But there’s no rush you know? If you don’t want us to go all the way we don’t have to. We can talk about what happens next? Whether you want to talk to Laurie…or pretend this never happened?”
God please don't say the latter option...

”No that’s the last thing I want!” Jamie blurted out, quickly grabbing Darren’s shoulder as a way to give his reassurance. “The ‘pretend it never happened’ bit, I don’t wanna do that. I know I need to talk to Laurie, I just…I’m just, scared of hurting her.” Jamie’s shoulders suddenly slumped. I really don’t want to hurt her…

A small smile soon crept across Darren’s face, despite a dull ache in the pit of his stomach from seeing Jamie full of conflict.
I hate how complicated this could all become, but I’m so crazy about him!
”I get that Jamie, I really do. So if you’re not ready to tell her yet, I’d understand. I’m happy for us to put things on hold or something if you’d prefer?”

”No.” Jamie smiled. “I don’t want things to be put on hold. I’ll tell her. Tell her that I'm not in love with her...I just need to be honest with her; it’s the least she deserves. She’s been my life for years, we were childhood sweethearts.” Jamie paused to sigh deeply, his gaze disappearing into thin air as he had a fleeting thought of the day they met. “It’s going to be horrible. But i'll deal with that tomorrow. Right now I want to focus on spending time with you."

”Well, you’re doing the right thing by being honest with her Jamie.” Darren offered as he gave Jamie’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “So, can I ask…am I really the first guy you've been with?”

”Yeah.” Jamie blushed as he chuckled inwardly. “I’ve fancied guys before, well, one, years ago. Otherwise I’ve just found guys attractive, I’ve never let myself think anything more than that about a guy…”

Darren’s heart melted.
I’m his first…
”It’s just, everything has come so, naturally to you? Like, you taking the lead earlier?”

”Ha! Well, I didn’t want to…well; I wanted to…make you feel good, and enjoy your time with me. I thought you’d maybe be put off by my lack of…experience.” Jamie’s cheeks burned profusely as he stammered over his words.

”Aw!” Darren mentally slapped himself for sounding probably rather patronising. “Sorry, just trust me Jamie, your ‘lack of experience’ couldn’t put me off in the slightest. But for the record, if I didn’t know you lacked experience, I wouldn’t have guessed.” Darren gave Jamie a playful wink as he took a fleeting gaze up and down his body. “Especially since you’re this hot!”

Jamie just pushed his mouth into Darren’s in reply, his hand taking a hold of Darren’s ruffled hair as he began to passionately kiss him. Jamie then shuffled up closer to Darren, so their bodies were touching, pressed up against one another.

Darren let his fingertips brush down Jamie’s smooth back, before slowly creeping around to Jamie’s cock and taking a firm hold of it.
”Wow, hard again already?” Darren chuckled into their kiss.

Jamie smiled before letting out a gasp, as Darren grabbed both their cocks together and starting stroking them.

”Oh my God.” Jamie moaned, as his mouth slid away from Darren’s, before replanting his lips on Darren’s neck, where he began to suck on the slightly salty tasting flesh.

Darren’s breathing became staggered as he stroked their cocks faster, relishing in the feeling of Jamie’s warm moist mouth on his skin. A heavy sensation suddenly appeared in his chest though, as he reminded himself he couldn’t take things too far yet.
Darren abruptly pulled away, raising his hand up away from Jamie and nudging Jamie with his shoulder to get him to come away from his neck.

”What’s wrong?” Jamie said breathlessly, his eyes wide as he tried to read Darren, who was staring back with a sunken mouth and furrowed eyebrows.

”Sorry, I don’t want to push you into anything you’re not ready for. I shouldn’t have gotten carried away like that.”

A big smile spread across Jamie’s face and a twinkle appeared in his eyes.
”Behave Darren; you’re not pushing me into anything. I want to do this!”

Darren laughed, his cheeks blushing.
”Sorry.” He muttered sheepishly with a grin.
”So, let’s…do this?” Jamie’s voice had gone a little shaky, his limbs feeling jittery and his stomach beginning to knot.

Darren took a hold of Jamie’s arms, and pulled himself to lay on his back, bringing Jamie on top of him.
”Wow.” Darren gasped, as his hands rubbed down Jamie’s tanned smooth stomach. “You look incredible.”
His gaze wandered down from Jamie’s pretty face, his cock tingling as he took in the sight of Jamie’s defined chest and abdomen, and the trimmed hair above Jamie’s almost-hard dick.
Darren involuntarily licked his lips, as he took a grasp of Jamie’s hips. He then pushed his cock up against him, which was pressing up against Jamie’s ass.
”So are you sure you’re ready for this? For us to…go all the way? Because we don’t have to, we can just, do other stuff?” Darren whispered as he continued to stare at Jamie’s body.

Jamie lowered himself so he could kiss Darren lightly, before speaking in a low smooth tone.
”I’m ready, I promise.”

Darren’s heart fluttered. He looked into Jamie’s eyes, the pupils were mesmerising; so big and shiny.
”If…if we do this with you on top…then you’ll have control. So, like, well, you can control how…deep I go…” Darren’s voice quiet and husky, his heart racing causing an ache in his chest.

”No.” Jamie answered firmly. “I want you to be in control. I want you on top.”

Darren smiled mischievously, loving the way Jamie was biting his lip as he stared down at Darren.
”You have no idea how sexy you look.” Darren uttered, swallowing hard, before playfully pushing Jamie off him, getting him onto his back. Darren then got on top, Jamie instantaneously wrapping his legs around Darren’s waist.

”Fuck Jamie.” Darren gasped as their cocks rubbed together, a jolt of electricity firing into both of them. “I need you so badly.”

As he leant in to kiss Jamie, a thought suddenly popped into his head.
”Fuck!” Darren exclaimed. “I forgot about lube and condoms!”

To be continued…

Replacements

Welcome to my newest story.  This is going to be something of an experiment for me, as I'm going to write this as it needs to be written every week, and not work it as I would my other projects.  It'll be interesting, if nothing else.

That said, this is always a first draft, and if I missed something in editing, don't beat me up too bad.  Remember:  you get what you pay for.

Replacements

Part Four

With Martha here I was in a near-panic.  I now knew why Olivia had a closet full of bondage gear and sexy outfits, but I had no idea she was bi-sexual.  Or . . . could it be she was a lesbian, and what I saw passing between her and Cragi only my overheated imagination at work?

If I was going to end up a lesbian, I was going to be the shittiest one on record, because the idea of being with another woman had never entered my head.  I wasn't bothered, or disgusted, by the thought:  it was just that I'd never, ever, given it any thought.

And Martha was going to realize this the moment she did something like kiss me.

Ten minutes later she emerged from my bedroom.  She was naked save for a thick, black collar around her neck, black stockings, and platform pumps with the most outrageous heels I'd ever seen.  She set some clothing on the sofa, then turned to me, smiling.  "May I undress you, Mistress?' she asked sweetly.

As long as Martha was asking questions, it would be easy to answer.  "Yes, please," I said with some tone, trying to sound like I was in control of--something.

The moment I spoke I knew I'd done something wrong, because the look on Martha's face was priceless.  She didn't quite frown, but it was so close as to one.  In a moment I understood:  I did something she didn't expect--I said, "Please".  Now, she was trying to figure out what was wrong without asking me.

People in control don't say "Please", I thought.  They give orders.  This isn't work; this is your house, and Martha's following your every order--

"Come," I said with a bit more sternness.  "Undress me, and let me see what you've picked up."  I clapped my hands.  "Move, girl!"

This was more like it, because Martha nodded and said, "Yes, Mistress," then began undressing me.

Martha was very careful with her movements, and careful with my clothing.  Though I'd worn yoga pants and a pull over tee shirt, she treated them as if they were the finest garments.  Of course they were:  they belonged to her mistress.  I understood this was something they'd done for some time; Martha's actions were not those of a novice.  This made me a bit more nervous than I had been moments before . . .

Then she slipped my panties down to my ankles, and gently lifted my feet.  I was naked, with her.  I'd not been naked with another woman since--well, years.  And never like this:  always in a locker room, a shower, somewhere communal.  This was far more . . . Personal.  Private.  Sensual.

When Martha stood, her gaze was centered on my breasts.  It was only when she smiled that I felt, rather than saw, what amused her:  my nipples were painfully erect.

It wasn't a reaction I expected--but it wasn't one that I was ready to ignore.

She asked if she could dress me, and I told her to begin.  As nicely as she undressed me, she did the same fitting me into my--"mistress attire".  A short, black silk dress; matching long gloves; black stockings, and ankle boots with very high heels.  I expected something more--I don't know, stereotypical?

Martha stepped back, taking me in.  My nipples were driving me crazy; I wasn't wearing any undergarments, and the dress was making my oh-so-sensitive nipples intensely more painful.

But in a great way.

Martha stood there as I examined myself with my eyes and hands.  "This is so nice, Martha."  I stepped closer and touched her left cheek with the palm of my hand.  "You know how . . . to please me."

Martha's grin was infectious, and I felt the same grin spreading across my face at the same time.  She was happy, and that made me feel as if I was giving her what she needed--even though, at that point, I had no idea as to what she needed.

"I'm always happy to please you, Mistress," she said.  Her hand slid up and touched mine.  "There is something wrong with you, though; I can tell."  She leaned against my palm.  "I know your moods so well, you know."

Her statement gave me some information I could use:  obviously, they'd been involved in this mistress/submissive relationship for some time, so Martha knew Olivia in . . . very intimate ways.  But by saying she knew her moods--  This was going to be tricky, because I could slip up and give myself away if I wasn't careful.

Or, if I didn't come up with a convincing lie.

I walked over to the sofa.  "I don't feel right tonight," I said while sitting.  "I don't know why--I'm just off tonight."  I looked up, smiling.  "Not very mistressy, I guess."

Martha came over, but rather than sit next to me, she knelt before me.  I should have expected that, but her action still surprised me.  "It's everything with work this week," she said, and there wasn't any need to elaborate.  "Your mind isn't on us tonight."

"You're right," I said, but I was thinking, Will it ever be?  Could I ever be the mistress that the real Olivia was?  Would I ever fool Martha?  Was she going to figure out that I wasn't who she thought I was?  "The last couple of days have been overwhelming.  I don't have . . ."  I shook my head.  "My head isn't in the right place this moment."

Martha smiled.  "Maybe I could do something that would get it in the right place?"

I thought, Here comes the offer of sex, but tried not to let that thought show on my face.  "What do you have in mind, dear?"

The "Dear" confused her once again, but only for a moment.  The expression vanished as she stood, then came and sat next to me.  She put her hands upon my shoulders, and began to position me so I was sitting away from her.

Martha started massaging my shoulders and back.

It would be easy to say, "I'd been ages since I'd last had one," but this was a first for me.  But so was stealing another person's life, so surprises were expected.  It felt so good, though, with Martha's fingers working my neck and shoulder muscles so expertly.  She'd worked beside me in the lab for a few years, and never once would I have imagined those skilled hands of hers capable of this sort of activity.

She was causing me to purr with pleasure.

"Mistress is enjoying herself?" she asked.

"Very much, love."

She unzipped my dress and shrugged it from my shoulders, sliding my arms out and letting it fall to my waist.  "Allow me--"  Martha started in on my back, and her experienced fingers worked my taunt muscles with what I imagined was a near-professional level of technique.

As I was falling under her spell, Martha leaned against my back.  "Mistress?" she whispered into my right ear.

"Yes?"

"I so want you to fuck me like the sex toy I am."

It was a good thing she was behind me, because I know my eyes bugged out for a second.  I said nothing, imagining how I would do such a thing.

"I want to taste your fragrant cunt."  Her voice was soft, secured--almost demanding.  "I want to feel your fingernails pinching my nipples.  I want to bathe in your piss--"

I turned my head and looked at her.  "You do?" I whispered.

"I want you to fuck me with your biggest strap on."  She smiled.  "I want you to completely own me."  Martha nibbled on my shoulder.  "I never want to leave you."

I was wrong when I said my life changed when I became Olivia D'avana.  Nor did it change when I returned from the bedroom.  Nor when I laid a naked Martha Kring on my dining room table, yanked her legs open, and fucked her with the ten inch strap on I wore.

No, my life changed the moment I finished fucking Martha on my table--bringing myself to the most intense orgasm--then dragged her off the table and into my kitchen, straddled her prone body, and pissed on her while she moaned in ecstasy--

My life changed as I found myself enjoying every fucking second of what I was doing to her.

How the hell could this happen?


Read Part Five Here
Read Part Three Again

Artistic Passion - Pt 2

Did you enjoy the introduction to Artistic Passion yesterday?  Did it leave you wanting more?  It's your lucky day!  Sit back and enjoy the second installment. 

Artistic Passion, pt 2

by

Ben Hannigan

It’s dark in the workroom, blinds drawn, two figures in the space. Night owls; one an artist, the other a writer. The girl with mousey auburn hair, the boy with ink stained hands, paper covering the floor. Both talking, animated. Him, in pj bottoms, ink splatters on the chest, chalk dust on hands.

She’s brush in hand, clutching a canvas, work drying around her, she’s in a hoody, the grey contrasting against the cream of her thighs and again against the splodge of yellow acrylic on her nose, specks of paint flecked over hands and skin.

Music on, both singing, giggling, working furiously in the throes of a muse. it’s a type of insanity, the writer and the artist, struck by passion.

Half empty, cold tea-filled mugs forgotten or used to clean brushes, pens cast aside dead, inkless. Pizza boxes, crusts left, now posed service as palates. Menus for take-out covered in scrawled notes.

Drained, they are dancing now, fuelled by another insanity, moving, rising, falling, joyously together amidst the paper.

Moving together, filled with a new muse, gasping, crying out, shaking, shuddering, pain, but a deliciously unbearable fly, can’t be painted, can’t be described, captured in imitations, gratifying exhaustion. They curl, together, amid the paper, using discarded sketches and drafts as a blanket.

As the rays of early morn pierce through the window the two dress in that awkward gawky way of emerging lovers, finding his specs on top of a menu for an Italian promising never closed, always ready. Finding himself ravenous, not eaten for days, gripped by wild inspiration they head out for the evening meal, at breakfast time.

Fatal Indiscretions Episode 5

by Anjie Harrte

Firstly I wish to apologise to all our readers and my fellow writer friends for being so late on this post which was due to many unforseen circumstances. I hope you enjoy the read and I hope writing it in a rush doesnt affect the smooth flow of the story.

Also, there will be no doodles today but I do promise to do a doodle for this episode sometime later in the week or next week.

Episode 4 Recap

In the previous episode Sherry and Paul rendezvous in his boat on the river as they continued to satisfy their lust for each other. On her way out of the market area Sherry sees that someone has stolen her side mirrors and she scolds herself for it, because she was parked in a shady area. She bumps into Jennifer from the art class and after a weird encounter with the woman she heads home to meet her friend Allie who is taking away the baby clothes to a charity organization. Sherry decides it is time to get back into her life, and settles on starting that journey at dinner with her husband Ryan and now it continues . . .

Episode 5

Rumours café was located on the ground floor of the majestic Tower Hotel. With each step I took through the lobby of the hotel; my heels clanking on the fancy tiles; my hips swaying from side to side and; the end of the red dress flinging with it; I smiled. A bunch of Caucasian and what I assumed were American tourists were checking in at the front desk and their eyes were on me. After all I am a true Guyanese beauty in the prime of my life. My curly hair bounced as I walked and eyed my onlookers from the side of my well lined eyes and smiled; a smile I had picked up from Paul. The slinky material of the dress gripped my luscious twin mounds and hugged my waist and hips before falling off into a frilly flair. My strappy red shoes wrapped itself around my chocolate coloured feet revealing the blood red nail polish I had applied to my toe nails. I clutched my red purse under my arm and moved like  a natural woman, one step in front of the other allowing my body to sway as though in rhythm with a sultry reggae song.

When I reached the café I pushed the doors and stepped it. It was dimly lit with a romantic atmosphere. The walls were painted dark red and had small gold lights that gave the room that sultry feel. The tables were covered with black and red table cloth and to the back of the café was a little bar. I recognised Ryan from the back sitting at the bar. He saw me in the mirror behind the bottles and he turned around. The outfit had cost me thousands of local dollars and the hairstyle and mani-pedi racked up another bill, but the look on Ryan’s face when he turned around was priceless.

I walked to him feeling as though the tables and chairs were parting for me to move smoothly between them. Ryan didn’t move, his jaw was dropped and his eyes were wide and when I was within inches of him he closed them and shook his head and then got up. “Good evening honey,” I said feeling a little victorious inside.

“Huh?…yes hun, good evening indeed,” he replied before reaching and kissing me on the lips. I leaned in when his lips touched mine and pressed myself against him and allowed my tongue to part his. I threw my arms around his neck and felt him pull me closer, his hands on my waist as we passionately exchanged a kiss right there for all to see. The café had about fifteen occupants at various tables and I could feel their eyes on us. Ryan and I hardly showed public affection beyond a simple smack on the cheeks or lips, but tonight neither of us cared what anyone else thought, tonight we were both letting out our frustrations.  

Slowly we let out of the embrace and I could see his eyes were heavy with desire. He ushered me to a table and when we were seated he reached for my hand, it was such a strange thing that I didn’t realize what it was he wanted when he stretched out his. It had been so long since we sat holding hands that I had grown unaccustomed.

The waiter came and gave us the beverage menu. I told Ryan I wanted a wine but since I wasn’t familiar with it I let him choose one. Minutes later we toasted to us and I sipped on a light yellow liquid in the glass that tasted light and fruity. Ryan knew my taste so the wine wasn’t as pungent as most I had tasted before, the taste was light and it seemed to caress my tongue and flow down my throat with ease, leaving a wonderful mixture of sweet and sour taste in my mouth. It reminded me of the wine we drank at our wedding, the one Ryan had chosen and promised me I would like – and I did, at my wedding and at the dinner with my husband.

Our conversation was light banter about my art class and the work place. I was surprised how at ease I felt to speak about my art class without blushing when Paul’s name came up. I told Ryan about the progress I was making with my drawings and he told me he was proud of me - correction he said, “you must be making your teacher very proud.” Ryan was not a man of many words; he was very quiet and reserved. I was the talkative one, I was the one who spent hours telling him all sorts of things about my life when we met, and it has always continued this way. This was one of the reasons I thought he was my soul mate; the fact that he would sit and listen to me and hardly said much.

Eventually it became an obstacle in our relationship, since I always felt as though he was keeping things from me, as though he never felt comfortable around me, or trusted me to open up. Over the years it succeeded in forming a big gap in our relationship. Sometimes I think our quest for a child was an attempt to fill that gap.

However, Ryan had always been good at expressing his feelings to me through his actions. He always showed that he was not only hearing to what I would ramble on about but he was also listening to me. He knew when I was down and would send me a single rose with a lovely note. He knew what I liked and what I didn’t. He knew when I was tired and would offer a massage; he knew my every desire and always tried to fulfill them without me asking. At least this is how things were in the beginning. The more pain and hurt we experienced through every miscarriage, the further apart we grew and soon it seemed as though a simple cup of coffee was too much for him to prepare. As time went by I stopped talking to him as much, emotions became pent up and overflowed in the form of my tears. He sought distraction in his work and his hobbies and our house became inhabited by two strangers.

Tonight, the man who had watched me over his omelet a little over a week ago as though I was a mad woman he didn’t know was stroking my hand and looking into my face with love and my heart swelled a little. As the wine started soaking into my brain, his stroking of my hand began to have an effect on me.

I sat back in my chair as the waiter brought our meal. I had ordered shrimp in a cream sauce and Mediterranean rice with a citrus salad. Ryan ordered a steak with Cajun potatoes. We ate in silence with just a few commentaries on the meal.   

For dessert we shared a slice of strawberry cheesecake. When the waiter put it down with the two spoons, Ryan gave him back one and smiled. The dinner had been a little uncomfortable with nothing to say. But when he took the initiative to feed me the cheesecake I was once more aroused. He scooped the cheesecake with the strawberry topping and placed it in my mouth. I slowly opened my mouth seductively and took the contents off the smooth and then licked my lips as I ate it. He sat there with the spoon in his hands watching me. I took the spoon from him and scooped up the cheesecake and fed him. There was a little on his lips and I leaned forward and kissed it off. I heard him give a deep moan at the back of his throat and my body reacted.

When I sat back he moved his chair around the table next to me before feeding me another scoop. We kept our eyes on each other as he placed the spoon in my mouth. When I took the cheesecake off the spoon, Ryan leaned in and nuzzled my nose with his. “No fair, you gotta share,” he said and my heart fluttered like the teenage girl I was when he first kissed me.

I leaned forward and he reached down and soon our lips parted and we shared the cheesecake, his tongue dancing in my mouth and tasting. I savoured the coldness of the cheesecake along with the warmness of his breath as I felt his hand move to the small of my back. I moved my hands to his crotch and rubbed it. It was already hard and pushing against his designer suit pants, telling me how much it had missed my touch.

I felt his other hand move up the inside of my thigh as he grabbed the flesh of my inner thigh and squeezed it. Ryan was always a tender lover, so the way he squeezed my thighs was strange for him and welcoming. I felt his fingers dig into my skin and my pussy reacted to it. Soon his fingers were prying my panty aside and I felt as his thumb rubbed my clit up and down. I moaned against his mouth and he sucked me in closer putting pressure against the small of my back. Then his fingers entered me, one and then two. I could feel the wetness dripping out as he worked it in and out and we kissed passionately.  I started moving my hips around as his fingers assaulted my pussy sending me into ecstasy. He never released me from the kiss as he kept me locked in pure pleasure. I didn’t know if anyone in the room was paying attention to us or; if we were moaning loudly or not and I didn’t care. Instead I kissed him harder and pressed my upper body against his as I felt the orgasm take me over. Right there in the middle of the elite little café my husband fingered me into a rocking orgasm.

When my body relaxed he released me from his kiss and quickly threw cash on the table. He grabbed me by the hand and we were quickly walking out of the café. Outside Ryan turned in the opposite direction of the hotel’s exit. We passed alongside the pool. I felt like the teenage girl again, the young girl I was when I gifted Ryan my innocence. Ryan pushed the doors to the men’s room and flung me. It seemed as one movement as he flung me in the room and against the back of the door. He didn’t check the room or anything, the CEO of the biggest pharmaceutical company in the country pulled down his zip grabbed my thighs lifted me off the ground and drove his dick deep into me. I felt my walls grab on to his thick cock and I moaned loudly from the sweetness of that feeling. It is said that sex is different with every individual, and the feeling I got from Paul, as pleasurable as it was, never compared to the feeling I always got when Ryan entered me. In that moment I would feel all the hair on my body raise to attention as my walls would welcome him. Ryan pulled aside the dress material covering my breasts and dug his head into them, assaulting my nipples with his tongue and sucking hard on them. He grew harder and bigger in me; a feeling I always enjoyed. I started to move my hips as he started driving in and out of me. Ryan drove his dick fast and hard into me; harder than any sex we have ever had. I felt as though he was letting out all of his frustrations in that moment, as my pussy began to scream from the sweet pleasure of the hard fucking. I dug my fingers into his shoulders and moved my hips back and forth in rhythm with him. As my orgasm came again; as my head got light and my body went numb I felt him stiffen up and lean in to me, and we both came hard against each other. His face rested in the crevice between my breasts as he breathed in and out loudly. I wrapped my legs around his waist and rested my head on top of his.

When we were composed and straightened up, standing in front of the mirror as we fixed out clothes; he wrapped his arms around my waist and we saw our reflection in the mirror. He kissed my neck and said, “Let’s go home baby.”

A man walked into the washroom and stopped abruptly looking at us and around. I blushed as we left and walked out of the building. When we reached the steps I heard someone call my name, I knew the voice and I froze.

“Sherry, hey there,” the voice said again.

I turned slowly as my eyes met his and I saw that smile, my heart was beating in my throat, and my knees felt weak, Ryan turned and looked from me to Paul and I hoped he wouldn’t see my reaction. I quickly cleared my throat and said, “Paul, hey.”

He walked over to us and extended his hand as I introduced him as my instructor, all the while feeling a bit queasy inside. They shook hands and exchanged a few words before Paul excused himself walking up the steps with his hand around the waist of a slim and extremely tall Indian girl. Ryan turned to me and said, “He seems nice.”

“Yep Yep, he is” I managed to say as I continued down the steps.

All the way on the ride home I sat in the seat with my hands clasped between my thighs watching Ryan. After he asked me what the matter was for the second time, I started staring out of the window. For the first time in what seemed like forever we were connecting and the last thing I wanted was to jeopardize it. I settled with myself that it was best to act normal and enjoy the night. But when we closed the garage doors and walked around my parked vehicle to head inside he asked, “What happened to your mirrors?”

I stopped with my back to him and waited for the ground to swallow me. To any other it would seem like I was overreacting, but to me; the woman who had never lied to her husband, whose husband could read her like a book, I was beyond scared to turn and tell him what happened without telling him what I was doing when it happened.

***********************

Thank you for reading this episode and if you want to know if it is possible for Sherry to lie to her husband then come back next week to find out more...