I sit on my sofa with the laptop perched on top of my knees. Seb’s instructions flit across my mind as I start my search to purchase some items more intimate than I perhaps would have imagined a few weeks ago.
With trepidation, I start with the CELLO website where I found my pretty pink vibrator. I feel as if I’m doing something illicit, like watching porn. I scold myself for being so silly. While it’s not a pastime I’d share with my mother, I’m an adult. There is nothing forbidden about buying sex toys. I’m comfortable with watching images of BDSM, this should be easy. But the anonymity that the BDSM websites or Tumblr provide makes it safe. This is real. I’m going to give them my name and my address.
I relax into the sofa cushions and click through the different sections of the site. I’m turned on by considering all the possible items that would satisfy Seb’s instructions. Something to spank you with. I add a small black flogger with suede to the basket. The kiss of the tassels is something that I long to feel. Will they tickle, sting or hurt me? Something to tie you with. The blindfold and satin ties ooze luxury, and I can imagine the cool material binding me. Something to put inside you when I’m not able. My heart skips as I imagine what the larger vibrator will feel like, pushed into my core. The sleek vibrator is in the basket and I’m eager to explore the next requirement. Something that scares you a little. His instruction gives me the courage to add items that I’ve thought of, but shied away from.
My nipples are sensitive, so I add a delicate silver pair of tweezer clamps that are connected by a silver chain. Next, a small leather paddle with intricate stitching catches my eye. It’s a contradiction to me. It looks sensual and pretty, yet dangerous at the same time. How would my body react to being bent over Seb’s breakfast bar and paddled? I press my thighs together, seeking relief from the arousal spurred by the thought of Seb applying the contents of my shopping basket on my willing body.
In less than an hour, I have everything. At the last moment I add love beads and a sensual hot oil candle. I couldn’t resist the idea of the beads, the ability of them to keep me on the edge of arousal, wet for Seb, is too much after mentally playing over my fantasies. I put my laptop to the side and stretch out my legs. It’s suddenly very hot.
I grab my phone, keen to share my small accomplishment.
I’ve completed my homework. I hope you’ll enjoy what I’ve bought. Izzy x
Did you have fun with this, Izzy? S
After I realized the computer wouldn’t explode if I looked at sex toys, yes, I did enjoy it. Can I keep the items at your apartment when they arrive?
Of course. I look forward to them arriving. And seeing you soon. S
Everything I ordered is due for delivery before Friday. I feel awash with an inner strength and sense of calm, as though I am carrying a really good secret that no one else knows about. I fight the need to email or contact Seb. Not speaking to him until everything has arrived will be more difficult than I had thought. The easy friendship we first shared is tempting me. I want to be free to have the friendship and the affair, to grab hold of it and take it. But I can’t yet, not until I’ve resolved my marriage.
I have barely seen Phil the past week. I want everything out in the open with him, but it’s difficult to confront him if he’s never home. Neither of us wants to initiate the argument that will be the final blow to our marriage. We are stuck in limbo and I’m desperate to move forward, yet terrified at what that will mean.
On Friday, I leave the office early with my new items in the boot of my car. They arrived on Thursday, wrapped in beautiful shiny boxes and neatly packed. Everything looked so pretty and exciting. I got all of the items out and spread them on the bed. The vibrator, the flogger, the paddle, the nipple clamps, blindfold and ties. Plus the ‘extras’ that caught my eye: the love beads and the massage candle. It was like a birthday where you got everything you asked for. As I leave the office, I send a quick text to Seb.
I have a delivery I’d like to drop off if that’s okay? I’m looking forward to playing with them together. Izzy x
Of course. Although I’m not home tonight. You have your key. S
A pang of hurt and disappointment snakes through me. It was wrong to expect Seb to be home, although I’d hoped he’d make an invitation. It has been over a week since we saw each other in Manchester, and I don’t know when I will see him again.
Yes, I do. Thank you. Maybe I could wait for you? Izzy x
I hit send and point the car toward Seb’s apartment. I keep trying to reconcile my feelings towards Seb. How can my feelings for Phil be replaced so thoroughly by what I feel for Seb? Yet Seb is everything that I want, he’s caring and considerate as well as dominant and assertive. This is what I need in a lifetime partner. This is what is so lacking in Phil.
The one dark spot in my euphoria is that Seb sees our relationship with clearly defined limits. Seb is guiding me in an exploration of my sexual needs—full stop. There has been no further talk of combining that with the friendship we first started. As much as I might long for my relationship with Seb to provide everything I dream of in a lifetime partner, to turn into a fairy tale, it won’t. He won’t let it.
I park the car and head up to Seb’s apartment, still not looking at my phone. I take my boxes and head straight for my room, avoiding looking at the photographs on the wall. I set about carefully placing all the individual items in one of the drawers of the dresser. As I handle each one, I fight the growing sense of arousal as the anticipation stirs. My stomach is in knots and I know that I’d be wet if I slid my finger down into my knickers. It couldn’t hurt just to try one of two, could it?
The love beads were my curious buy, so I unpack the box. Two silicon spheres sit innocently in the packaging. My cheeks pink at what I’m about to do with them. I push them between my swollen lips and inside me, enjoying the feeling of being filled. After a moment of adjustment I’m used to them and a dull ache is the only reminder to my private pleasure.
I pull the silk ties out of their box and run the red material through my fingers. The cool silk heats my arousal further. I resist the urge to play with everything in the drawer and halt my exploration, suddenly feeling foolish for indulging when I’m at Seb’s house alone.
After all the toys are safely away, I steal a glance at my phone. Sure enough, there is a message from Seb.
Not tonight, Izzy. I already have plans. I’d like to see you tomorrow at 7 p.m. sharp. S
Okay, so another night to wait.
I’d like that. See you tomorrow. Izzy x
I try not to think about what his plans are for tonight. I have no right. Perhaps a little distance for an extra night will be good. But I don’t want an extra night. I want to be here with Seb. Tonight, as well as tomorrow night and perhaps every night. I want him to feel like I do, eager to see me, excited at what could happen. I’m sure men don’t get the same stomach-churning nervousness, but whatever their equivalent is, I want him to feel that.
I wake feeling slightly groggy, having tossed and turned all night. I even got up at one point to try and tire myself into sleep. Questions about Seb and what I want from our relationship ran through my brain, and they only quietened with his texts.
Izzy, tell me straight, how much of this stuff did you get solely because you want to try it and how much is because you think this is what I wanted you to buy? S
I bought these items for me. Well, us. It’s what I wanted. Did you want something different? Izzy
No, Izzy, it’s perfect.
Have you tried out any of it yet? S
One or two things. The ties and blindfold are comfortable. And the balls… okay, weird but for the few moments I had them in they were nice.
See you tomorrow. S
He was thinking about our future time together, and that was enough to calm my turbulent emotions and send me to sleep.
My morning alarm vibrates on the bed table and I stretch and turn over. Phil is in bed with me. I’m stunned. It seems like weeks since
we last shared a bed.
“Good morning, Iz.”
“Morning, Phil. I’ve not seen you for a while.”
“Sorry, Iz. I’ve been trying to sort some stuff out. I needed space.”
“Okay.” I move to get out of bed, not liking the idea that he joined me in the middle of the night and I wasn’t aware of it. He reaches for my arm.
“Come on, Iz. We need to talk.”
I sigh and sink back down, scooting to the edge of the bed. I need to get this conversation sorted. Phil is keen to talk for a change, perhaps I should hear him out.
“I know that we’ve not been close lately. You’ve been distant, off doing your own things all the time. But I want to sort this out.” Phil’s sudden change in tack and direction throw me. He hasn’t said more than two words to me in a week. He didn’t like me challenging him before and now he’s playing nice.
“Well, you’re never here, Phil. What do you expect? For me to wait around and mope until you notice me again?” Phil visibly stiffens at my words and I ready myself for my defence against him.
“This isn’t my fault, Iz. You’re the one who wanted to get all ‘kinky’ in the bedroom and expected me to hit you.”
“We’ve had this argument before. I’m sick of this. This is so typical of you. I didn’t want you to hit me. I wanted you to take care of me. To fulfil a desire I have and listen to me. As usual, you couldn’t do it.”
“What do you mean, as usual?”
“This didn’t start a few weeks ago, Phil. I’ve taken your constant neglect and selfish behaviour for a long time. It seems like a lifetime ago that we were happy. I thought that if I stood up to you, pushed harder for my wants, we could still try and work things out. Obviously I got that wrong and you’ve been running ever since.” I stand and my voice grows even stronger as all the hurt and desperation courses through me. “I’m tired, Phil. I’ve supported you and us for years. We were young when we got married and I thought the distance between us was normal. I am as much to blame for that as you, as I let that happen. But these last few years have been worse.” Countless nights spent climbing into bed alone and the continued rejection of anything that I wanted swamp my memories.
“Izzy, you make this sound like a huge deal. So I didn’t want to do anything kinky to you.”
“But it’s not just that, Phil. I’ve tried to tell you this, but you never listen.” His attitude is making me angry. “You’ve never once acknowledged any of my needs. All of the times I’d ask you to make me come, to actually show me some attention, were ignored. I thought that our marriage was more important than having a good sex life. But you really don’t understand me, or even show a basic interest in me. You never ask about my day, want to socialise with my friends. Hell, by now you’d have thought we’d have our friends. Not yours and mine still. If it’s not all about you, then you don’t want to know.”
Phil is quiet for a moment and the pause is primed, ready for me to say what I need to.
“Look, Phil, you should know that things aren’t right and I think you and I both know why.”
He stands abruptly. “Shut up, Izzy. I don’t want to hear this.”
“No, you need to hear this. We can’t go on like this.”
“I said shut up.”
“No! I won’t take it anymore.”
“What’s gotten into you? You’re gone just as much as I am.”
“Only recently, and only because I’ve finally woken up to you.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Phil seems flustered. I’m so close now. I need to hold my nerve.
“I know you’ve been having an affair, Phil, and I think it’s been going on for a long time.” I leave the accusation hanging in the air, thick with anger and frustration. We face off against each other, the bed separating us, and I wait for him to answer.
“Maybe I should be asking you the same question? Perhaps you’ve even had some help in the kink department, because you certainly seem different. Sure as hell you haven’t been sleeping with me.”
All of my anger and conviction to finally clear things up with Phil crumble down as guilt takes their place. You’re so close. Come on, Izzy! Courage.
“So that’s your answer? To throw it back at me?”
“Well?”
“Well what? You’re the one all over another woman in front of me, who doesn’t come home, who says he’s working when he’s not. Are you going to answer that?” My final challenge shakes him to the point of action.
“No, I am not!”
He stalks around the bed, ratcheting up the tension. I’m caught in his grasp before I can escape. I shake like a rag doll as he snarls into my face and throws me to the bed. Fear. Genuine fear slices through me at where this argument might end. I wait for it—the slap of his hand against my cheek—hoping that I didn’t see the anger there in his eyes.
“Iz, I’m sorry.” His soft apology is more shocking to me than throwing me to the bed.
“What for? For accusing me or for throwing me on the bed?”
“I said I’m sorry. Just lay off if you know what’s good for you, Izzy.”
“Why won’t you just admit the affair? Tell me the truth for once? Then we can move on.”
He stands there at the edge of the room with no words, and I can’t take it. I need him to admit that he’s part of the problem. But he won’t. He’s always taken the easy way out and ignored me. I won’t be the quiet wife anymore. I know what it feels like to be listened to, cared for, and it’s finally opened my eyes.
“You know what?” I shout. “Sod it. I’m not going to stay here. I can’t stay here with you like this. I want the truth from you. When you’re willing to have a conversation with me without you getting angry we can put everything on the table. I’ll be at Jess’s until then.” I walk to the bathroom and slam the door. Calm. Breathe. Don’t cry yet. Hold on.
“So it’s alright for you to run, then?” he shouts.
“I’m not running. I’m leaving!” I scream back at him through the door. “Unless you’re ready to tell me the truth?” I listen, but his confession doesn’t come. I pull things together in the bathroom, grabbing everything I need for a few days before I open the door. Phil sits on the bed with his shoulders slouched. His whole demeanour has changed in the space of a minute.
The resentment and pain that was so potent a few moments ago now leaves a sick feeling in my stomach. We are both destroying anything left of our marriage. I have no right to feel the way I do and place blame on Phil while I’m off being unfaithful. But I’m not sure that the marriage vows alone can be enough to keep us together. There hasn’t been ‘for better’. There has only been ‘for worse’. Marriage is a partnership, something that needs love and understanding as well as hard work. I haven’t got anything left to give. We are married in fact alone and that gives me the courage I need to carry through with my actions.
“I’m not going to stay here, Phil. This isn’t something that has happened overnight, and it won’t fix itself that way either. You need to admit to me that you are having an affair. And I think we have some other conversations ahead of us.” I dump the items beside him on the bed as he slowly looks towards me. He doesn’t say anything. The rage I witnessed earlier is gone, replaced by despair. Regret sours his face and tests my courage to follow through with my actions to leave. I’ve never stood up to him like this before and it’s left him shaken. I grab my clothes and stuff them into a bag before adding toiletries on top. He watches my movements around our bedroom as he continues to sit. I desperately try to hold onto my anger, but the guilt and sorrow are unstoppable.
This is it. This is a pivotal moment in our relationship. One of those moments when no matter what you try, you can’t prevent it from happening. I feel part of myself pull away, growing distant to the scene playing out before me. I can’t ignore my actions. I’m physically running from Phil—walking out. I’m not even sure I’ll be back. The emotions of everything that has happened
over the past few weeks and years have built to this point. Now I’m balanced on a precipice. The potential ruin of our marriage waits below.
I can’t stay. Staying would concede some imaginary defeat and give Phil the signal that he can get away with ignoring me. It might have been alright in the past, but not now. That is not what I want. I’m stronger than that. Thanks to Seb.
“Don’t leave like this, Iz.”
“What, like the last few times you walked out on me? You need to take a look at our marriage and decide what you want to say to me. Clearing the air isn’t enough, and neither is trying to blame everything on me. If you won’t talk to me, then I’m leaving. I’ll be at Jess’s.” I reach for my bag, bolt out of the door and down the stairs. I grab my keys and I’m in my car before I know it. I’m not heading for Jess’s house. I’m going to the one place I can be myself and hopefully feel some comfort in this whirlwind of feelings.
It’s still early on Saturday morning and I don’t even think to check that Seb is home. I fire off a text to let him know that I’m on my way over.
Why do you need to come over, Izzy? I’m not home at the moment. S
The Izzy and Seb Collection: The Evermore Series Books 1, 2 and 2.5 Page 18