For Grace the ideal life of being a stay-at-home mom had always been a mixture of great joy and great disappointment. At times she was thrilled to have the freedom to come and go whenever she wanted during the hours of 8am and 3pm. She shopped when she wanted.
Volunteered when she wanted. Visited friends when she wanted. And yet, there were times when she grew bored and it was boredom that had come back to bite her in the butt0ckz.
Several weeks ago a box arrived at her doorstep. The return address identified the sender as C.J. Winters from Greensburg,
Pennsylvania. Grace gave the package some thought as she carried into her home and set it on the table. She pulled out a knife and sliced through the taped seam, thinking about what latest gadget, garment, or whatnot that she’d ordered online. Nothing came to mind as she opened the box and stared at the back of a manilla envelope.
She picked it up, flipped it over and felt her chest tighten. Her online screen name had been scrawled across the goldenrod hued paper in a flourish of red ink. She gripped the back of a chair and sat down with a thud.
The muscles in her stomach twisted and knotted. She flipped the box lid over and stared again at the name of the sender. She tried to recall all the people online that she’d talked to over the past seven years. Where they came from. What their names were. What their screen titles were. A blank canvas filled her mind as her pulse raced.
In her head she prayed to God that there was nothing to worry about. Tears filled her eyes as she reached into the box and pulled out a disk, as well as a stack of papers. A quick glance at the pages of script confirmed to her what she feared. Thousands and thousands of posts from 2005 until three days ago were stacked neatly in a bound bundle. Her hands shook as she opened the envelope and pulled out a series of photos and a letter.
The photos were glossy prints of her and several of her lovers. Men she’d met during those times when 8am-3pm were too boring to contemplate anything but adventure in the arms of another. The letter was simple and direct. She was to meet C.J. Winters in three days, at a hotel 45 minutes from her home. She was to leave her house at 8am and would be allowed to leave at 2pm. He knew from her posts and her openness that she was sterile, so there was no need to worry about pregnancy, and he also was aware of her irresponsible behavior with her former lovers, so there would be no condoms.
Grace wanted to revolt and refuse the demands, but the letter had described how easy it was for her husband, members of her church, and her family to gain access to all C.J.
had sent her. Three days passed and during that time Grace battled an internal war. Confess everything to her husband. Ask advice from her mom. Run away and disappear – an option she quickly scratched because she had a heart swollen with love for her children. In the end, as she walked into the elevator and pressed the button to the fifth floor, Grace had known what she was going to do the moment she’d looked into the box.
She tapped on the door to room 524 and waited for it to open. It didn’t take long. She stared into the face of a man she didn’t recognize from any photo online, or any rendezvous from her past. He was a stranger to her, yet she knew he probably wasn’t.
“Hello Grace. Please come in,” C.J. said before stepping back and allowing her entry.
Grace’s heart pounded and her jaw tightened as she walked across the threshold and heard the telling click of the door shutting. “Aren’t you going to lock it?” she asked.
“Why would I? If you leave you leave. I’m not holding you prisoner.”
C.J. shrugged his shoulders, walked past her and headed over to the bar, where he poured her a small glass of wine. He poured another for himself, and drank deep the crimson fluid. “So you know it’s not drugged,” he said after finishing his glass.
“I’ll pass,” she said, before dropping her purse and removing her coat. “So what do you want first?”
“Don’t you want to know my name?”
“Not really,” she admitted.
“Well, it’s Chad.”
She said nothing, choosing instead to wait until he made the first move.
“Do you want to talk about your posts? Photos?
“Why? Will talking about it change your mind?”
Chad smirked. “No, not at all.”
“Then why bother. Let’s just get this over with.”
He shrugged his shoulders, sat down on the cushion of the hotel chair and spread his legs open. “Since you’re so eager, let’s get the basic stuff out of the way.”
Grace swallowed the lump in her throat and slipped off her shoes. Her lower lip trembled as she walked over and sat on her knees. Her eyes watered with tears that spilled over. She winced when Chad’s thumb caressed her freckled cheeks and then touched the small trail of tears. Grace turned away, shaking off his touch.
Chad’s hand fell to his thigh, the other rested on the arm of the chair. Grace shook her head,
and gave herself a mental pep talk. She told herself that sU-Cking this man off was nothing. It meant nothing. It would come to nothing. He was nothing. He was just a J0yst!ck and nothing more. Her hands shook as she opened up his pants and worked to free his hard shaft from his boxers and slacks.
The swollen tip was bright red and the veins were thick and ridged. She looked up and stared into Chad’s eyes before taking a deep breath and bringing his J0yst!ck to her lips.
When the head slid against her mouth, she closed her eyes, opened her mouth and took him in.
The grunts and groans coming from Chad’s throat told Grace she was doing a good job, as did the gentle massage he gave her scalp and the encouraging words of “yes”, “oh F**K yeah”, “good girl”, and “yeah baby”.
Grace told herself she wasn’t having fun, that she was going to puke, and that when he came she would spit it all over him. She tried to ignore the slick moisture that coated her
p@anties and the fragrant arousal of her s*x that drifted up to her. When his breath quickened and his hips began to drive upward, while he pushed down on her head, Grace felt her K!ttyC@t flex and quiver.
“I’m gonna come baby,” Chad gasped before spraying the back of her throat with his heavy load. Grace felt the juice bubble around her lips. She swallowed quickly, knowing that he would have wanted it no other way. When she was done drinking his Pour, she pulled back and licked her lips. Her gaze remained fixed on the floor, as she listened to him sigh in contentment.
“Very nice,” he said, before reaching out and stroking her hair. Again Grace pulled away. “Get undressed,” Chad told her. He stood up and removed his clothes. His wet J0yst!ck hung limp as he walked around across the room and offered Grace a drink from her goblet. This time she took the offering and swallowed every drop before peeling off her clothes and standing Unclad before him.
“Your photos don’t do you justice,” Chad whispered before walking over and taking Grace’s hand. He led her to the bed and told her to climb on. “Lay down and get comfy,
Grace chewed on her lower lip, crawled onto the center of the bed, and settled on the plush covers. She lay still. Her legs were stretched out straight and her arms rested against her sides.
She stared up at the ceiling and tried to think of anything but the man who was standing next to the bed.
Chad touched her ankle with firm gentle caresses. He massaged the muscles, working the pads of his fingers into her skin. “Relax baby girl,” he whispered. “We both know you loved sU-Cking my J0yst!ck and we both know you’re gonna love having me eat you out.”
An involuntary m0an came from Grace’s throat. Chad chuckled and replaced his fingers with his lips. Small feathery kisses were left on the tops of Grace’s feet, toes, ankles, and calves. He lifted each leg, one at a time, and treated them like fine porcelain. She lay there, her body slowly growing more and more relaxed as well as more aroused. Mentally she called herself names, hoping to shame herself into not responding to his seductive measures.
The first touch of his lips upon her s*x caused her hips to jerk upward. He slid his hands under her butt0ckz and began to knead the soft feminine globes. His breath trailed over her trimmed mound and then she felt his tongue slide between the slick folds of her K!ttyC@t.
Grace hissed as he pushed the tip of his tongue against he cl!t and played lazily along its edges.
Her nails dug into the covers. She closed her eyes and tried to recall some horrific memory that could pull her out of the passion that was beginning to consume her. The defeat she was feeling along with guilt was minimal as with each push of Chad’s tongue into her s*x brought her closer to a promising release.
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