EXcapades

by Kay, Debra

  She crinkled her face sympathetically. “You’re better off to chart your own course than follow his,” she said.

  I nodded. “He stopped being a team player, for our team at least. And then without pause, he moved from one woman to the next, like he was the baton in a track race.” My voice cracked. “Sadly, I was the last to learn that I was part of the event. It stunned me how quickly he could jump from one life to another.”

  “I’m angry with you, and for you,” she said.

  “In a blink of an eye, it was like I didn’t know him at all. How’s that even possible?”

  Why didn’t he just leave me and then go look for a new life? The coward, he couldn’t be on his own for a day.

  “Marriage can give us a false sense of security,” she said. “Chris and I aren’t exactly on a perfect path either. I’m here for you, but I’m no expert.” She shoved another bite of chocolate éclair into her mouth.

  I sighed. “I should have seen the warning flag when he insisted on getting married on February 29th, Leap Year. I thought it was his odd sense of humor, but really he only wanted to keep up with our anniversary every four years. And when he filed for divorce, he tried to claim that we were married only five years instead of twenty!”

  Jane looked at me curiously. “It took me a moment to realize you were joking. I know today’s a challenging emotional day. Are you okay?” she asked.

  My voice choked up. “I know we’ve been over this, but . . .”

  “It’s okay, honey. You’re still going through it.”

  “Yes,” I said with a tight smile. “It doesn’t seem fair to be left alone after all those years of devotion to him, his business, and our family. I got caught up in his world. And I forgot to live up to my own potential. But I’m ready to rebuild my life into something that’ll make me happy, and not just a life that revolves around his needs.”

  “I know what you mean. My two boys and my husband keep me busy from morning to night. It’s easy to get lost in other people’s demands.”

  I shrugged. “He always used to tell me to quit arguing with him. But after he left, it occurred to me that he considered my opinions arguing. He was telling me to quit giving my opinion and essentially to do everything his way. No thanks, this is my life, too, and I shouldn’t just live it the way he wanted. I guess it’s time to step out of his shadow and let the light shine on me,” I said.

  “It is time for you to live for yourself,” she said.

  “When he left me for another woman, I begged him, ‘Don’t go, Peter. I need you in my life.’”

  Jane looked down. “Okay.”

  I laughed. “After I begged him to stay, I said, ‘I’m just joking, Peter. Close the door on your way out.’”

  Jane tried to hold back her laughter but couldn’t. “You’re just figuring out what a selfish jerk Peter can be? He needed his ass kicked long ago,” she said, pretending to kick him in the backside using an exaggerated swinging motion with her foot.

  I would not want to be on the receiving end of her kick. Jane’s legs had power. She and her husband owned a fitness center. And when her elementary school-age boys were in school, she taught cardio classes part-time. Her husband looked like he could flip small cars with his fingertips. Chris looked like a mirror version of Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson. Watching them together reminded me what a marriage should be like. They respected each other and worked together.

  “At least I got something good from my marriage. Because of Peter, I have Jenny. She will always be my gift.”

  “That makes you a lucky lady.” In the next instant, she picked up another éclair, bit into it, squirting the crème across her mouth. She leered at Chase through the window. Jane turned to me, licking the crème off her lips, in a somewhat obscene manner, and asked, “Do you think Chase would like a more mature woman?”

  “I’m not sure what his first impression will be like if you don’t wipe that éclair crème off your face.” I grinned. “You and your lascivious nature.”

  Jane smiled and spun around with her arms crossed over her chest as if dancing with Chase. “I don’t think he scares that easily.” She continued in an upbeat playful manner. “Don’t even go there with a bad cougar joke. Who came up with that title anyway? So, if we’re called cougars, what does that make Peter?”

  I shrugged. “You don’t want to hear me start cussing, do you? Plus, as soon as I start swearing, my phone rings. I’m not sure how she does it, but my mother must have a tuning device that picks up on my misconduct.” We both snickered.

  “Your mother is something. Remind me whose idea was it for her to move to Florida?” Jane asked.

  “We shouldn’t go there, or the phone will start ringing.” I glanced back out the window at Chase. “He sure stays in amazing shape,” I said admiringly.

  “That’s what sexy looks like,” Jane said.

  “Your husband is in perfect shape.”

  She nodded. “Okay, this one is for you.”

  “He’s too young. But maybe one of these days, I’ll date again.”

  Jane pointed toward the window and then looked at me. “He’s just a reminder to have fun. You’re never too old to enjoy yourself.”

  I paused and watched Chase as he tipped a red soda can to his lips and appeared to guzzle the entire drink. He wiped the sweat from his brow and stared at the kitchen window.

  I turned back to Jane, hoping he couldn’t see us. “I still feel too wounded to want to try to enjoy myself. The good thing is that anger has a way of making any unresolved feelings of love go away. Or at least masking them.” I did not meet Jane’s gaze; instead, I looked down at the tea I just poured, using it as an excuse to turn away.

  “Yes, it’s true; we can be hurt the worst by the people we love the most,” Jane said.

  “Peter should have come with a warning label.” He needed more than a warning label. He needed a warning tattoo. I could tell by my wavering voice that I was deeply hurt by him. It was out of character for me even to discuss our relationship. But I was simply relieved to vent.

  Jane reassured me that it was fine by saying, “We’ve been friends for more than ten years, and never once had I heard you say anything negative about your marriage until he dropped this bomb on you. I know it still hurts. You need to talk about it.”

  I smiled. “Thank you, dear friend. I just feel overwhelmed and confused by my feelings today, since it’s finally over. I can’t let go, but I want to. I have to.”

  “You’ll feel better when you do.”

  “Really, this divorce is for the best.”

  “Yes, the best is yet to come.”

  My nod in agreement was interrupted by a sharp pain in my side. The agonizing pain forced me to gasp for air and bend over to find relief. I labored to catch my breath and lifted up slowly as the pain subsided.

  Jane, watching it all, was caught off guard by my behavior. “Are you all right?” she asked, startled.

  Forcing a smile, I looked Jane straight in the eye. “Oh, yes, sure, it must’ve been something I ate today. Or maybe I’m letting the anger out, like steam.” I tried to joke. But deep down I had an unsettling feeling that something was wrong . . . terribly wrong.

  My intuition knew that behind my tired eyes, something else lurked. The sad reality was I had not been feeling like myself lately.

  Wanting to change the subject quickly, I asked Jane jokingly, “Ever just want to empty your head of all your memories and start over? Lately, I want to untangle the web of memories in my mind and tear them out. Except for my sweet daughter and my dear friends like you, who I love, I think it would be a good idea to start over with a clean slate.”

  Jane turned to me. “Are you serious?”

  I smiled warmly. “Am I ever really serious?”

  “You have a point there, my friend. You and your quirky personality.”

  We both laughed. Just talking about the finalization of the divorce was helping me. I felt slow relief from my frustration, and a
t last, peace.

  My close friends had become my family, but for the first time in many years I did not have a special man in my life. Maybe that was good at this point. “Thank you for always being there when I desperately need a friend.”

  “I’m always here for you,” Jane said.

  Glancing out the window, she sighed, “Chase is beautiful to look at, and I bet he would be fun to touch.”

  “Oh no, I would never do that,” I gushed.

  “What’s stopping you, girlfriend? You’re single now. And even though that no-good ex-husband of yours probably never told you, you’re very pretty, too. If nothing else, flirt with Chase a little. Do it for me and all the married women out there who are stuck in a sexual rut. Speaking of all of that, I brought you a gift to celebrate your divorce.” She rummaged through her handbag and handed me a pink box tied with a large white ribbon.

  I pulled the ribbon, opened the box, and blinked, trying to focus on the contents in stunned silence. “Is that what I think it is?”

  “I bought you something that every newly divorced woman needs. Okay, every woman needs.” She giggled.

  I lowered my voice. “You bought me a vibrator?” I asked, looking at her in disbelief. “I never had one before.”

  Jane’s mouth dropped open, and her eyes grew wide. “Are you serious? Well, it’s about time you did.”

  I lifted the pink vibrator, squeezed the thick rubber shaft, and tossed it on the counter. “I could never do that.” And I began to blush from the mere idea.

  She could not hold back her look of surprise. “What, touch yourself? You need to let loose a little bit and experience life. I’m starting to think you forgot how. Touching Chase might be a good first step. If nothing else, touch him with your mind,” she said.

  I looked at her curiously. “What do you mean?”

  She looked at me as if she was explaining this to a virgin. “Fantasy . . . let your imagination have an adventure,” she said.

  “Jane, you’re such an amazing friend, and you know what? You just gave me the answer I needed.”

  She looked puzzled. “I don’t recall you asking the question. But yes, you need to start living again,” Jane said. She had a warm smile that met mine knowingly. “You’re aware of what you need to do, right?”

  I nodded. “Have fun with a hot guy. But you know I’m joking. I wouldn’t do that.”

  “Enough joking about it—do it. Live it.” Jane grinned. She loved instigating wicked fun.

  In the next instant, she blurted out something about picking up her boys from tennis practice. She grabbed her purse from the table and walked to the door. Thinking about that vibrator, I was still giggling when I followed her.

  Jane stepped outside and turned back to me. “You’re stronger than you think you are,” she said.

  At that precise moment, it occurred to me: life is not a destination, but a journey to be enjoyed.

  “Thank you. You’re a dear friend,” I said.

  She reached over and hugged me. “Oh, say good-bye to Chase for me.” We both giggled again like schoolgirls.

  I went back inside, paused while looking at the pink box open on the table, and wondered if I should do what my instincts were shouting for me to do. Do it!

  And without giving it a second thought, I tucked Jane’s gift back into the box like I didn’t want anyone to know my secret, and then I carried the box to my bedroom and closed the door.

  All those jokes I had with Jane. My mother would be horrified. She certainly would tell me that a proper lady would never repeat them aloud. I almost could hear the telephone ringing.

  Jane was a unique friend, but many people probably would find me mentally unstable from those comments, not funny. And what would my friends think if they knew what I was about to do? They probably would gasp in horror. My dirty secret. I washed the vibrator and tried to figure out how to work it. Let me see—slow speed, medium speed, and high or probably mind-shattering speed.

  I yanked the long silk curtains shut except for a tiny crack that let in a slice of sunlight and enough space to watch him. I pulled the cool leather chaise lounge chair up to the window as close as I could get it. I sat down with my knees tucked under me. Through the tiny slit in the curtains, I had a clear view of Chase, who was netting the pool.

  I let out a sigh while I admired his hard, tanned-to-perfection body that was ripped with muscles. I had become captivated by his every movement as he pulled the long metal pole back and forth.

  And oh, I was thinking about moving with him. I shook my head because I couldn’t believe I was having these erotic thoughts.

  A shiver went down my spine, and a rush of warmth spread between my legs. I had never pleasured myself before, but today I wanted to touch myself there. I was divorced and alone now; however, I was still a woman with needs and desires.

  Once my lewd fantasy began, I spread my legs and slid one hand down my body into my bathing suit bottom. Instantly, I could feel my body growing warm with excitement.

  A glint of daylight poured through the tiny gap in the curtains. Continuing to peer out through the small opening, I thrust one finger inside my warm folds, fantasizing about having Chase’s hard manliness inside me.

  With my free hand, I untied the string on my bikini so I could touch myself easily. I kept the finger inside me. With my other hand, I rubbed small circles on my most sensitive area. I caressed myself slowly at first but liked it so much that I quickly built up speed.

  My heart began to pound. I watched Chase, thinking about what it would be like to have him on top of me—moving as one, rubbing his toned body, and feeling his warm kisses. My breathing became rapid as I touched myself with increased intensity. Should I, could I, take it a step further? Why not?

  I looked at the pink vibrator hesitantly, and then gave myself the mental go-ahead. I held it nervously. I examined it for an instant. I squeezed the thick rubber shaft and wondered if it would be an appropriate substitute for the real thing.

  And then I pushed the vibrator inside myself slowly, as if one of us might break. Once fully inserted, I flipped it on . . . HIGH, WOW! Meant to put it on slow, but oooooohhhhhhhhhh that feels amazing.

  In my delirium of excitement, I lost all of my common sense. I wanted to get a better view of the tantalizing male in my backyard, so I lifted my feet and pushed them against the window. And then I spread my feet in an attempt to pull the curtains farther apart.

  Before I knew what had happened, I yanked too hard on the silk material and ripped the entire curtain rod and fabric to the floor. Fully exposed! My nearly naked body immersed in sunlight. There I lay, spread eagle on the chair, looking down at Chase. Much to my surprise, he was staring up at me! He parted his lips, and his white teeth glistened in the sunlight. He winked and beamed a knowing smile. Or was it?

  Did he know that this entire time I had been watching him? Could he hear the hum of my vibrator? Was he really able to see me touching myself now? Probably not since I’m on the second floor, but maybe? My cheeks turned as red as the surface of Mars. Somewhere within, I found bravery and leaned closer toward the window, focusing my eyes on his firm body. Don’t stop now.

  Much to my surprise, I could see the outline of his hard erection straining against his shorts. He reached his hands into his shorts and started stroking his rock-hard pride and joy.

  I stooped closer to the window, wanting him to lift it out of his shorts, but he didn’t. Let me see it. Show me. Pleeeease. He teased me with his touch and his grin.

  And he did not flinch from his smoldering gaze, nor did he take his hands from his shorts, as he stared up at me with his chocolate brown eyes from across the yard. At this point, I could feel his undaunted stare. His erection seemed to have a life of its own, and he had reason to be proud. I smiled broadly. No wonder he had that cockiness; with a cock like that he had every right.

  I just stared at his smug smile, like he had a secret on the tip of his tongue about to bust out of his mouth. H
is good looks combined with the confidence of someone not yet jaded by life’s setbacks, a deadly combination. He still had that youthful self-assurance. And really, how much stress could this gorgeous young man face each day?

  I thought about all of his attributes, while I stared at him through my window, spellbound. To my amazement, he continued to fasten his seductive stare on me, at the same time stroking his manliness. His muscles tightened, and his breathing rate accelerated.

  I became entranced as I watched him increase his rhythm and intensity. He never for a second looked away. Without hesitation, I pressed my face closer to the window. I could feel my hot breath on the glass—breathing faster and faster—steaming a small circle.

  For a few moments, our eyes locked in a concentrated stare. Excitement twinkled in his gaze. And mine, too. My arousal built while I continued to manipulate the vibrator, never taking my enthusiastic eyes off of him. He continued to stare wide-eyed as his body stiffened, his gaze never leaving mine.

  With my legs spread, I guided the vibrator deep inside me. In and out it surged. The vibrations pulsated through my body. I imagined his hot breath against my neck. My body trembled. Every nerve ending ignited, and then a sudden surge of warmth exploded, sending a shock wave of contractions across my body. I stunned myself with a shallow moan as my muscles tightened and brought with it a surge of bliss.

  Still never breaking eye contact, I watched his entire body tense as he rubbed his cock harder and faster. I saw him shudder as if volts of energy shot through him. And then he relaxed. He smiled ear to ear as he slowly lifted his hand out of his shorts.

  I leaned my head back on the chair and sighed. I couldn’t remember the last time I had an orgasm. “That was exciting.” I laughed out loud, but I needed the actual touch of a man. I didn’t want to become a voyeur; instead, I needed romantic evenings and someone to share some exciting adventures.

  What I wanted most of all was a life filled with laughter. I did not like the negative and cynical person I had become this past year. I needed to find more joy in my life. The corners of my lips lifted. I took a deep breath. I almost could feel the cheerful energy fill my lungs.