by April Fire
The door abruptly swung open. We forgot to lock the goddamned door! “Sorry,” the entrant muttered as he quickly retreated, the door closing after him.
“Fuck!” I uttered. It was my husband! I recognized the stupid red baseball hat he always wore. I popped my breasts back into my uniform and pulled my skirt down into position. My anonymous lover didn’t seem at all fazed by the fact that we’d just been busted. He calmly stuffed his shrinking dick back into his jeans and began straightening out his shirt. He leaned in to kiss me, but I pulled away.
“What’s the problem?” he asked. “I thought you liked doing it in public.”
“That was my husband who just walked in on us.”
The blood from his face drained, and his calm bravado waned. He looked frightened, and I’m sure I looked worse. “Give me a boost,” I said as I slid open the window above the paper towel dispenser. He was more than happy to help. I squirmed through the window and he quickly followed, likely desperate to avoid a beat-down from a jilted husband who right this minute might be fetching something to use as a weapon.
We stood in the alley behind the restaurant, staring at each other. The air around us smelled of dirty fryer oil, grilled meat, and sex.
“So… we should do this again sometime,” he said.
“Probably not. No offense; it was fun.” I said, biting my lip.
“None taken. Hold on a sec…” he said, reaching his hand toward my leg. He gently wiped up a stream of his jizz that was running down my thigh. He held his fingers in front of me, glistening with the last evidence of our carnal escapade.
I leaned in, and with one long swipe of my tongue, I licked his fingers clean. I dabbed my lips with the back of my hand. “You certainly are some kind of gentleman.” I said.
“Always, ma’am,” he said with a quick wink, before turning and jogging down the alley.
Chapter 3
Boy, was I in trouble now.
I straightened out my uniform and slowly began walking down the alley. I was in no rush to go back inside the restaurant. I thought of just heading home, or even to a motel for the night — hell, maybe I could just run away and never come back.
I couldn’t believe what I had just done - I had never cheated on anyone before, let alone my husband. I felt ashamed, and at the same time, oddly proud. I had taken back control of my life. I could do it again, maybe with another customer, if I wanted. Just knowing this made me feel empowered. My sex life no longer had to be a casualty of my husband’s cold demeanor. I just had to make sure that I locked the door next time.
I turned the corner and began heading back toward the front entrance of the restaurant, my newfound sense of power slowly turning to guilt. I did love my husband, and with good reason. He was a good man who worked hard to make a better life for us, and I truly didn’t want to lose him. Despite my ultimatum to him, I was desperate to find a way out of this mess. Maybe he hadn’t seen my face. Maybe he thought it was Christy in the bathroom, or some random female customer. Or maybe he had seen me and was already on the phone with a divorce lawyer.
I stood outside the restaurant’s front door, looking at my reflection in the finger-smudged glass. I did my best to hide my nervousness, to play it cool. It seemed that the only thing standing between me and a divorce was the poker face that I had honed over our week-long honeymoon in Vegas. The irony wasn’t lost on me.
When I finally had the courage to walk inside, Mike wasn’t there. One of the cooks told me that he headed home early. I sent him a text, but didn’t get a response. The rest of my shift seemed to take an eternity. I had a stony look on my face and my smile felt fake, and several customers asked me what was bothering me. I said I had been feeling a little under the weather, adding it was nothing a good night’s sleep couldn’t fix. I just didn’t know if I would be sleeping alone from now on.
I called home before leaving, but there was no answer. I drove home in silence, thinking of our little one bedroom apartment, wondering if it would be empty when I arrived. Maybe all my shit would be packed in boxes and lined up outside ready for a yard sale… or a bonfire.
My heart pounded as I slipped the key into the lock of our apartment door. I felt a certain sense of relief as I heard the familiar click of the deadbolt releasing — at least Mike hadn’t changed the locks.
The sound of soft music struck me by surprise as I stepped inside — it was the last thing I had been expecting. Mike greeted me with a smile and a single, long-stemmed rose. He was wearing nothing but a pair of low-slung jeans. The top button was undone, so they hung even lower than normal, revealing the hard muscles of his abs. I had always found him handsome, if a bit nerdy, but tonight he seemed so masculine, so strong.
I stood in front of him, in awe of his chiseled good looks and permanently sun-kissed skin. He stepped closer to me, and the nervousness I felt began to melt away. I looked into his dark brown eyes and felt loved, deeply, for the first time in ages. I realized that I would never be able to forgive myself if I had ruined things between us.
He took my hand in his and led me to the bathroom. He had drawn a bubble bath and placed candles around the edge of the tub. I opened my mouth to speak, but he planted a gentle kiss on my lips, preventing me from uttering a sound.
“I realized something today,” he began. “I haven’t been a very good husband to you lately, and I want to make things better between us.” He kissed me, passionately, as he began to undress me, my clothes falling to the tile floor. He helped me into the tub and then pulled his jeans down. “Let me spoil you tonight,” he said, easing himself into the water behind me. I felt his already hard cock press against my lower back.
This was shaping up to be an amazing night.
THE END
A Note from April
Dear Reader,
Thank you for reading this book. I hope you enjoyed my story as much I enjoyed writing it.
Please be so kind and leave a review on Amazon.
Best,
April