Finding Out About Mr M

by Matt Tims

  Jen had been thinking more and more about the conversation she had with Ashley last week. She’d finally accepted responsibility for the way her life had turned out. As much as she loved Tom at the beginning of their relationship, he still lacked the vital qualities she required; and unfortunately, she wasn’t aware of just how important those traits were at the time.

  Her biggest regret in life was not marrying someone who possessed the mentality she desired; and to make matters worse, her sexual lust had only grown since Ryan’s arrival. Suddenly, every guy at the gym was sexier to her as well. Everywhere she looked she saw men—real men. Men with muscles, passions, and dominant personalities. Forty-seven-year-old married fathers shouldn’t be playing video games and overindulging in fast food, and it was unbelievable that Tom didn’t feel the same way.

  And she almost slipped.

  It’d all started three days ago at the gym. She was midway through her leg and butt workout when she headed over to the water fountain to grab a drink. It was an opportunity to allow her body a few minutes to cool down as well.

  “What are you doing tonight?”

  She reached out to retrieve a paper towel from the dispenser on the wall, using it to wipe away the sweat from her forehead. The dreaded Bulgarian split squats were next on her list. It was an exercise that she knew not to skip, but was awfully tempted to anyway. They were just so difficult!

  But someone was blocking her route to the barbells.

  This Italian-looking kid had come out of nowhere. Why was her path being obstructed by a college-aged hunk in a red tank top and black basketball shorts? And more importantly, why couldn’t she tear her eyes away from him?

  His arms were chiseled, visible veins bulging from his biceps to his forearms. His shoulders were thick and wide, but his body was lean. His face possessed a dark scruff, perfectly complementing his dark, curly hair. It wasn’t his looks that had captured her attention, however. No, that came courtesy of the unmistakable confidence which oozed from him.

  “Excuse me?” she asked..

  “What are you doing tonight?” the young stud repeated.

  She flashed him a polite smile before tossing her paper towel into the garbage can. “Um…I’ll be at home.”

  “At home?” he questioned, his grin oozing of self-assurance. “That doesn’t sound very fun to me.”

  Jen took a step to her right, but it was matched by this young man who continued to stand in front of her. He had some rather choice words for her as well.

  “I’m going to take you out.”

  She immediately laughed, looking up into his dark eyes. “You’re going to what?”

  “I’m going to take you out,” he confidently repeated. “We’ll grab a coffee and then go back to my place. Hang out for a while.”

  She responded by raising her left hand into the air to flash her wedding ring.

  “And?” he asked, not deterred in the slightest.

  How couldn’t he see that she was taken? “And?”

  “Yeah…and?” he said again.

  “I’m married, sweetheart,” she smiled before attempting to take another step to her right. He once again matched it.

  “Is your husband out there?” he questioned, glancing toward the weights.

  She responded with a chuckle.

  “Not a gym guy, huh?” he asked. “How does that work? You work hard to take care of your body, but your husband doesn’t?”

  “We make it work,” she answered, doing her best to conceal any hint of a lie. She never had the best poker face.

  The muscular college student had a clear mission, and he was about to let her in on his plan. “You seem like a real straightforward kind of woman to me. I get the impression that you aren’t someone who has time for games and bullshit, so I’m going to be straightforward with you too.”

  Jen continued to listen, caught off guard by the boldness of his words.

  “I’m going to give to you whatever you’re not getting at home.”

  Her jaw dropped.

  “And you’re not going to remember your husband’s name after I get done with you,” he finished, his focus never straying from her timid eyes.

  “You’ve got some balls, you know that?” she remarked, blown away by his brashness.

  “Oh, you have no idea,” he told her with a grin.

  She took a step back, only to be matched with a step forward from this younger man. This repeated until she found her back against the wall, his large frame towering over her petite body. All this time she’d been wishing for a man who went after what he wanted; but now that she found herself in her fantasy scenario, she was beginning to wonder if she’d bitten off more than she could chew.

  “Anthony,” he finally introduced himself from only a foot away.

  “Jen,” she quietly told him. “And I’m old enough to be your mother.”

  His eyes meticulously took in her body before moving back to her face. “You don’t look like any mom I’ve ever seen.”

  She instinctively bit her lower lip before glancing down at the floor. What was she doing? Why was she tempting herself like this? What good could possibly come from flirting with someone more than twenty years her junior?

  “When was the last time you got what you wanted?” Anthony asked.

  “I have everything I need,” she answered with her eyes still positioned on the black tile floor.

  She suddenly felt his presence draw closer as he reached his arm out and pressed it against the wall to her rear. She was trapped, but even if the situation was different, she wouldn’t necessarily be in a hurry to go anywhere. This was fun in an extremely inappropriate way.

  “I’m talking about what you really want,” he said.

  “And you’re going to give me what I want?” she asked after finally glancing up at the stud standing mere inches in front of her.

  A confident smirk appeared on his handsome face as he lightly shook his head. “No, I’m going to give you things you had no idea you wanted. Things that never even crossed your mind before.”

  “And how do you know what I want?” she inquired.

  His grin turned to a smile before he divulged, “Every woman wants the same thing; but unfortunately, there aren’t a lot of guys out there who can give it to them.”

  “And what exactly is it I want?”

  The college student leaned in even closer until his mouth hovered beside her ear. “To get fucked within an inch of your life.”

  A wave of electricity burst through her body. No one had talked to her this way in over two decades. She wanted to get fucked within an inch of her life? Who said something like that? Confident guys—that’s who. Guys who can actually fuck a girl within an inch of their lives, guys who know exactly what women want, and guys who give it to them.

  This kid was at least twenty-five years younger than Tom, but their vast difference in tenacity and self-assurance was staggering. Her desire to see if he could back up the game he was talking was undeniable, but every part of her knew that was a bad idea. Her days of flirting with young hunks should be in the past!

  Anthony’s hand reached into his pocket before re-emerging with his phone. “Give me your number.”

  “I don’t think so,” she told him.

  “You know what?” he said. “I’ll give you my number.”

  Her hesitant look was impossible to miss.

  “Maybe you’re not feeling it at the moment, but that might not be the case two days from now,” he said. “Just take my number and shoot me a text when you decide it’s time for a change in your life.”

  She hesitantly retrieved her phone from her yoga pants and handed it to the imposing stud who continued to tower above her. Was she really doing this? Why was she even talking to a man she wasn’t married to? He created a contact for himself before giving her phone back to her.

  “Have a fun night, Jen,” he told her before making his way to the locker room.

  Bulgarian split squats, stiff leg dea
dlifts, and walking lunges: she crushed the rest of her workout. Personal records were shattered, and a glow resonated from her rosy cheeks every time she took a peek at her reflection in the mirror. The second half of her workout was the best of her life.

  –

  But as Jen sat on the couch with her Kindle and the TV playing in the background, her mind continued to gravitate to the phone number she’d received three days ago. Anthony was a college kid. He didn’t have responsibilities, commitments, or any real concerns. He had one priority just like most college boys, and that was to fuck.

  Wasn’t that what she really needed though? Just to be fucked? There was always some elaborate event planned in her mind whenever she fantasized about cheating. The guy would call her the exact names she wanted, her desire to be tied up and slapped around would be second nature to the stud, and she would leave his place feeling used but satisfied. But what were the chances of that actually happening?

  The more she thought about it, the more she imagined it going horribly wrong. What if the sex sucked? Then she was just another cheater who’d broken her loyalty to her husband for a mediocre fling. What if she wasn’t satisfied when it was over? What if she felt violated and dirty? What if that feeling never went away? What if cheating and fantasizing in the erotica she read was significantly better than experiencing an affair in reality?

  She needed a connection with someone to fool around. She wanted a guy she desired on more than just a sexual or physical level. She required a man who could get inside her head and make her explore herself; but at this very moment, she would settle for a good pounding.

  She was going to give it one last shot; and if this didn’t work, then she was all out of ideas.

  10:17 PM.

  The basement door open just as expected. Heavy footsteps trudged down the steps as Tom made his way to the couch for another long night of video games. Her eyes peered from the dark corner of the room to watch him plop down in his seat, giddy to waste countless hours of his life accomplishing absolutely nothing.

  The sound of the Xbox powering on quickly filled the room. This was it. This was her Hail Mary attempt, and Anthony’s number would look a whole lot more appealing if it didn’t work.

  “Hey, stud.”

  Tom’s head quickly turned as his large body attempted to spin in his seat. “Jen?”

  She slowly and sexily emerged from the shadows, dressed in a rather uncharacteristic outfit. A pair of cowgirl boots, ripped blue jean shorts, one of Tom’s old plaid shirts which she’d tied off under her large breasts to expose her stomach, a backwards baseball cap, and a toy shotgun she’d picked up at Walmart completed her sultry look. She googled “Call of Duty cosplay” and copied the sexiest girl she could find. She even went the extra mile with fake blood on her waist and light dirt on her cheeks. She was a sexy survivor in some post-apocalyptic wasteland that had been overrun by zombies, and the look in Tom’s eyes was one she hadn’t seen in a long, long, long time.

  He remarked, “Whoa!”

  She smiled while strutting in his direction, her plastic shotgun spinning with each and every step she took. “Excuse me, stranger,” she shyly said. “Do you know where a lonely, desperate girl could spend the night?”

  “This is no place for a girl like you to be all alone in the dark,” he said.

  Okay, so this wasn’t exactly her fantasy. There wouldn’t be any leashes, ball gags, or ropes; but for the first time in years, Tom appeared to at least be into something she was doing. And if she could get him going this way, then maybe he would be more open to exploring her desires and fantasies? It was worth a shot.

  “Thank you so much,” she smiled before taking a seat on his knee. “How could I ever repay you for your generosity?”

  “You can get on your knees.”

  Jen’s brain nearly exploded. “What?”

  “Get on your knees,” he told her again.

  She eagerly slid off his lap and sank to her knees. ‘Get on your knees?’ ‘Get on your knees!?’ He never said anything like that! He was never dominant, or controlling, or demanding at all! Maybe he was changing. Maybe he was changing for her!

  She quickly unbuckled his pants as he struggled to prop his hips up—allowing her to pull his jeans down. Moments later, she was rapidly bobbing up and down on his cock.

  She didn’t care that he hadn’t trimmed his pubic hair in God knows how long, or that those wheezing noises were back, or that she had to dress in this ridiculous getup to get him going. At this very second, all she wanted to do was suck someone’s cock, and that was the exact thing she was doing.

  “I’m gonna cum.”

  She pulled her mouth off his penis and looked up at him, confused by what she’d just heard. “You’re gonna what?”

  “Cum…” Tom grunted before a spurt of semen flew from his dick and slammed into her cheek.

  She hurried to wrap her lips around his manhood and allow the rest to empty inside her mouth. How did that happen so fast? This was supposed to be a fantasy night, and it was all over in seconds!

  He slouched back into the couch, noticeably exhausted. It was like they’d just finished an all-night sex marathon—except they hadn’t. His cock was already limp after her twenty second blowjob.

  She couldn’t even swallow. The taste from his awful diet made his semen unbearable. It was so bitter and gross. She retrieved a cup from the table next to her and spit into it before wiping her cheek with a napkin. This was officially her line. She’d spent close to an hour dressing up, going to get that dumb toy shotgun, and finding fake blood: all for twenty seconds. Twenty seconds which left her unsatisfied and unfulfilled once again, and she could already hear light snores coming from the sofa. The insults just kept coming!

  She couldn’t do this anymore. She had to look elsewhere. Jen marched up the stairs and headed to her room. She didn’t even change out of her costume before pulling out her phone and finding Anthony on her contact list. She took a deep breath and texted him from her seat on her marital bed.

  She typed, “Hey,” and hit send.

  What was her game plan? Actually, she didn’t have one, and that’s what made this so exciting. For the first time in over twenty years, there was an opportunity for a man to lead her. She had no idea how Anthony would respond. Maybe he wouldn’t reply at all. What if he hit on dozens of girls every day? Their interaction could’ve been nothing special in his eyes for all she knew.

  But she wasn’t necessarily looking for an emotional connection either. Getting that from some early-twenties musclehead at the gym was an outlandish fantasy. She just wanted to feel sexually satisfied for the first time in God knows how long, and part of her needed to feel wanted. Nothing Tom did caused her to feel sexy or desired, but the way Anthony approached her the other day made her feel special. There was a vast desire for more of that in her life.

  Her phone buzzed. “Hey, Jen.”

  Now what? Was it on her? Did she have to steer the conversation in the direction she wanted? Did she have—

  Her phone shook again, putting a stop to her spinning mind. “Send me something sexy.”

  Her face lit up before her excitement quickly dissipated. Cell phones had barely existed the last time she was in a situation like this! This kid was used to girls his age who grew up flirting with phones and the internet.

  Send him something sexy… Send him something sexy… Think. Think!

  Jen typed, “I guess it all depends on what you find sexy,” and sent it his way.

  Is that flirty? Or smooth? Or anything? Girl, you’re so in over your head!

  Her phone buzzed. “You can start with that perfect ass of yours.”

  An audible gasp escaped from her previously sealed lips. Perfect ass! When was the last time Tom complimented her body? While she wasn’t needy, what girl didn’t like to feel appreciated. She worked so hard to stay in shape, and sometimes she wondered what exactly she was doing it for, but this simple validation justified all those hours of ha
rd work. Those times she’d passed on pizza for a salad swiftly became worth it.

  Should I send a picture of my butt in jeans? Or maybe in yoga pants? I do love how my butt looks in them. Or…no…well, maybe in a thong? Or is that too much? You know who would know?

  She immediately laughed at herself. Had she really just considered that? Had she actually contemplated asking her daughter for advice on how to flirt via texting? She really was a dumbass sometimes.

  She slid off the bed and strutted over to her dresser where she collected a black thong, black yoga pants, and a pair of red boyshorts. Her hurried feet carried her to the upstairs bathroom with her hands full. She needed plenty of options.

  Five minutes later, she stood in front of the bathroom mirror, completely clean of the fake blood and dirt she’d gone out of her way to wear for Tom. She felt just as ridiculous scrubbing it off as she had putting it on. And it was all for for nothing! But enough about Tom. Tonight was going to be about her.

  She picked up her phone and started typing again. “Option 1, 2, or 3.”

  She loved how flirty she felt. Maybe attention was all she needed. Perhaps she didn’t actually have to go through with anything, but some praise and approval once in a while would make up for what she lacked at home.

  Her phone vibrated on the bathroom counter. “Option 4.”

  A curious smile washed across her face as she began typing. She was getting a hold of this flirting via text thing. “What’s option 4?”

  Her phone buzzed. “Your sexy ass in a thong…with my name written on it.”

  There wasn’t a single second of hesitation or debate. She immediately changed out of her costume and slid into her black thong—the thin cotton providing the only layer of clothing on her otherwise naked frame. She dug through her makeup bag and found her red lipstick, turning her body so she could see her reflection in the mirror. Thirty seconds later, she had some college kid’s name written on her ass; and for the first time in two decades, Jen felt owned. She finally belonged to someone.

  Anthony was probably just some asshole kid who had dozens of girls do this for him, but that only egged her on. There was an undeniable urge to outdo those other girls. She wanted him to be thinking about her instead of those twenty-year-old coeds with their perfect bodies. She looked just as good as any of them, so why couldn’t she feel as good as they did? A cute college girl would leave a bad relationship; but for some reason, Jen refused to do just that. She wasn’t ready to leave yet. No, but at this very moment, she was ready to cheat.