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Finding Out About Mr. M (Part 3)

A frustrated wife can't stop thinking about her new neighbor.

Chapter 7 – A Second Hail Mary.

10:13PM.

This isn't how Hail Mary's work. You don't get two shots at them (well, unless you're Aaron Rodgers). A Hail Mary is supposed to be a last ditch effort. A heave which you prayed would be caught, and Jen was taking that heave...for the second time. She arrived home at 8PM and spent the last two hours and change working. If she couldn't have a fit, charming, sexual stud of a husband, then she was going to go the other route. She was going to satisfy him, and in return, he was going to praise her. She needed someone to notice all the work and effort she put into making her household operate. She needed to be appreciated.

The house was completely clean, Tom's favorite dessert, her homemade cheesecake, was waiting in the refrigerator, and the basement where he spent the majority of his time had received a makeover. All the empty cups and dirty dishes had been removed, the overflowing garbage had been taken out, his mini fridge had been restocked with beverages, and she went out and picked up the latest video game that she saw saved on his Amazon watchlist. She took a step back and smiled. She was an amazing wife. How many other full-time working mothers would do something like this for their husbands? Not many. And all she needed was for him to appreciate her. It was that easy. Not to mention she was wearing her sexiest black lace nightie.

The basement door opened. Footsteps scurried down the stairs.

“Hey, Jen,” Tom acknowledged her as he made his way to the couch. “What's going...woah!”

She instantly smiled.

“You did this?”

She nodded.

“Wow! Thanks, honey!” he smiled back before sitting down on the couch.

Jen quickly ran up the stairs, sliced a big piece of cheesecake onto a plate, and carried it down to her husband.

“Is that...really!?” Tom excitedly asked as he reached for the plate. “Awesome!”

She sat down next to him and rubbed his back as she watched him wolf down his favorite dessert. “Ah! And it's homemade! Jen, this is amazing!”

She pointed at the coffee table in front of them. Tom peered his eyes in the relative darkness before turning to her with an even bigger smile. “You bought me...oh, Jen! Thanks! What did I do to deserve all this?” he asked while setting his desert down and reaching for the game.

“Just for being you,” she answered as she continued to run her left hand along his back. She noticed cheesecake crumbs in his beard as he struggled to open the plastic wrapping on the video game case.

Stop! Don't do it! He thanked and praised you for what you did. Don't let contempt seethe back into you. Respect him! He's your husband!

“Need scissors, honey?” she asked.

“No, I got it,” he answered as he finally broke through the seal. “This game is so cool. The multiplayer is sixteen versus sixteen matches! That's how big the maps are! They can easily fit thirty-two people!”

She nodded as she tried to stay interested.

“Hey, you wanna watch me play? Oh! I can teach you how to play! You wanna give it a shot?”

She took a deep breath. It was getting harder and harder to put on a smile. “I'll watch.”

“Okay!” he smiled as he struggled to get out of his seat before placing the disc in the gaming console. “Thirty-two person multiplayer is going to be insane! And there isn't even any lag!”

“What's lag?”

Do you really care what lag is? Do you really care about any of this? Why's he so excited to play a video game when you're sitting next to him in a nightie? Shouldn't his hands be all over you? No... Stop! Just stop! Stop being a bitch! Just try to take an interest in what he likes!

“Lag is when the game jumps and delays because the servers are overloaded,” he explained while sitting down. “Sometimes it's hard for the servers to keep up when a lot of people are playing the same game. But not with this one! I read it's completely smooth. Well, the gaming reviews sites always say that but I believe...”

Jen was zoning out. Was she a bad person? Was it wrong to be so turned off by her husband's childish hobby? There was nothing wrong with playing video games, but she couldn't help feeling he shared the same passion for them as a teenager. And she was sitting right next to him! In a fuckin' nightie!

Her left hand continued to rub his back as her right hand moved to his groin. She saw him grin as he raised his video game controller, giving her access to his lap. Moments later she was attempting to stroke his cock to life.

“Honey,” Jen told him as she watched his manhood slowly grow, “can you try to last a little longer this time?”

“You want me to last longer?”

Unbelievable! Twenty years of marriage and he still doesn't know what you like!

“Yes,” she huffed, “I like doing it, so can you please try to hold back from cumming right away?”

He nodded his head as his eyes continued to focus on the TV. Jen accepted him into her mouth and began to bob her head.

“Oh, shit...”

You've got to be kidding me...

Her mouth began to fill with Tom's semen.

“Fuck...” he moaned as the last of it shot out. “I'm so sorry.”

Jen sat up and looked for a cup to spit his bitter cum into but there weren't any around. She had thrown them all out. The brunette quickly hurried up the stairs and spat her husband's seed into the kitchen sink, washing it down the drain before positioning her lips under the faucet to fill her mouth with water. She rinsed and spit, trying to cleanse her gums and tongue from that awful taste.

Fuck this.

She rapidly walked up to her room, grabbed her phone, and texted Anthony.

“Send me a picture of your cock.”

Send.

Forty seconds later her phone buzzed in her hand. Just as she expected, this kid had quite the piece on him. Her phone buzzed again. This time a young, eighteen or nineteen-year-old blonde had three inches of his dick in her mouth. The picture was taken from the college stud's point of view.

Jen started typing.

“Looks like she could use some help.”

Send.

Her phone instantly buzzed.

“Think you could do better?”

Jen opened her camera roll and found the picture of her with her favorite purple dildo lodged down her throat. She'd decided against sending it to him before, but she didn't care anymore. She just wanted to impress someone worthy of her attention.

She sent it to him.

Twenty seconds later she felt a buzz.

“Get your sexy ass over here. Briana could use some lessons.”

Jen felt a tingle. Eleven minutes away in some apartment was a confident, sexy college stud with a big, fat cock. Kneeling in front of him was some cute, little blonde girl. Jen had never been with a woman before, but the idea of playing with one, especially a younger one, was turning her on. And what if Anthony invited a friend over? What if she could have two big cocks? Maybe they would take turns with her? Or maybe they would take her at the same time? She slipped out of her nightie and hopped into a pair of jeans, threw on a t-shirt, grabbed her winter coat, and headed downstairs. The cold, metal feel of her keys pressed against her hand as she scooped them off the table and walked out the front door. There was no hesitation as she opened her car door and slid inside. The key found its way into the ignition and...

She stopped.

Turn it! Turn it and you can actually get what you want! Stop depriving yourself!

She stared at her dashboard for the next ninety seconds.

Sexy, young, fit people want to fuck your brains out! Isn't that what you want? Why are you making this so hard on yourself?

Jen pulled the key out of the ignition, exited her car, and found herself back in the driveway. She angrily slammed the door shut behind her.

“YOU'RE SUCH A WIMP!” she screamed as she stormed up the blacktop and back into the house. The brunette ran to her room and quickly found her dildo. It was going to be another night of mediocre self-pleasure.

Chapter 8 – Sherbet.

One week later. 5:59PM.

The roaring sound of a blender tearing through ice filled the kitchen. Jen removed the cup and unfastened the lip. Her finger dipped into the cold, tasty treat below. She raised it to her lips...perfect. It wasn't too icy, but at the same time, it wasn't too watery. It was the perfect consistency. She found a container and dumped the pink substance inside before sealing it with a lid. All she needed to grab was her winter coat as she headed next door.

Ring...

Ryan answered the door in a pair of black dress pants, a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up his thick forearms, and a loosened baby blue tie around his neck. The way he dressed made her melt.

“Hey, Jen.”

She smiled.

“Come in.”

She quickly stepped inside out of the cold and raised a clear, plastic container with a red lid to her neighbor. “I made you something.”

He curiously looked at what she was holding before motioning her to come further into the house.

She kicked off her shoes and followed him into the kitchen. There was an open laptop and a cup of what appeared to be green tea on the table. “I made you some sherbet.”

“I don't eat ice cream.”

“Oh, it's not ice cream!” she quickly rebuffed. “It's watermelon-coconut sherbet. All organic without any added sugar. It's just watermelon and coconut milk!”

“And you made sherbet from that?”

She excitedly nodded. “Yeah! You wanna try some?”

“Sure,” he answered before walking over to a cabinet. He returned with two small bowls and two spoons.

She took one of the spoons from him, set the container down on the table, and dished a generous amount into each bowl. Jen couldn't remember the last time she felt this nervous. What if he hated it? What if he thought it was gross? What if he laughed at her idea of dessert?

Relax...

Jen watched her neighbor gather a small amount of the creamy substance with his spoon before raising it to his lips. He slowly wrapped them around the steel eating utensil. Her heart was pounding.

He looked at her again, this time furrowing his brow. “You made this?”

She nervously nodded.

“This...this is amazing.”

She almost shouted with excitement but did her best to control herself. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “How'd you get it so smooth?”

“Well, after I initially blend it, I freeze it, then run it through a blender again, freeze it, and then blend it one last time. The more times it goes through the blender, the creamier it gets.”

He took another big spoonful and slipped it into his mouth. “This tastes exactly like sherbet. And it's healthy?”

“One hundred percent,” she smiled before indulging in a spoonful from her own bowl.

“This is phenomenal.”

She blushed and pointed at the container on the table. “That's yours to keep. And just let me know if you want more!” She picked up the Tupperware and carried it over to the freezer before placing it inside. “Is there anything else you need?”

Ryan gave his kitchen a quick once-over with his eyes. “There's always something that needs to be done...”

Thirty minutes later...

Jen was on her hands and knees in the kitchen, dressed in a maid outfit, scrubbing her neighbor's hardwood floor with a sponge. Next to her was a yellow bucket containing a mix of water and vinegar. Ryan had walked through the kitchen and caught her eye a few times, but he never stopped to look or talk to her. Was she really doing this for approval at this point or did she want something more? Was this her way of trying to submit to him? By taking care of him? She was a registered nurse who spent forty hours a week caring for the sick and elderly without much appreciation. She then came home to a husband she didn't respect, and picked up and cooked for him every night. She'd definitely received more approval from her husband than from Ryan over the past few weeks, but it was like every one of Ryan's compliments counted for fifty of Tom's.

Did you ever think maybe you aren't capable of being happy? There are people out there like that, you know? People that no matter what happens in life, they always feel like they're missing something. Look in the mirror, sister... That's you.

No! I've been happy before! I was happy with Bill. Well, at least most of the time. And I was happy with Tom at the beginning...kinda. Shit! I'm not one of those people...am I? I can be happy! I'm happy now! Wait...why am I happy now? Because I'm cleaning my neighbor's kitchen floor? What's wrong with me?

“I think you got that spot.”

Jen's head perked up to see Ryan standing just a few feet from her. “Huh?”

“That spot,” he laughed while pointing at the floor. “I think you got it.”

Jen looked down and girlishly giggled. She'd been scrubbing the same three inch space for God knows how long while she reflected on what exactly it was she was doing. As her neighbor walked along the dried flooring to retrieve a glass of water, Jen found herself changing positions to expose her cleavage toward the sink. Ryan filled up his glass and walked back into the living room without acknowledging her outfit.

Shit!

Fifteen minutes later...

She dumped the dirty water down the sink and rang out the sponge before walking into the living room to find Ryan working on his laptop while sitting on the couch. “All done.”

He nodded his head; not looking up from the screen.

“Is there anything else you need?”

There wasn't a response.

Jen slowly made her way to the couch, running her fingers along the firm leather material when she arrived. “Anything at all...”

A pen suddenly flew through her peripheral vision, landing on the floor a few feet away from her. She sank to her knees and crawled to it. When she retrieved it, she saw the laptop which was on Ryan's lap, now on the spot next to him. He was comfortably resting back against the exotic leather, eyeing his neighbor as she positioned herself in front of him, on her knees. She reached out and handed the pen to him.

He took it from her, observed it for a moment, and held it back out. She moved forward and wrapped her lips around the plastic, never straying from her neighbor's dark, masculine eyes. He suddenly pulled the pen back, tossed it to the side of him, and rested his arms back along the top of the sofa with a smirk.

Jen eagerly scurried forward, racing her hands toward his belt buckle. She finally managed to unlock the steel after a slight struggle and shifted her attention to the button on his dress pants.

Ring...

Ryan held his index finger in the air and tilted his body to the side to retrieve his roaring cell phone from his pant's pocket. She patiently sat back on her knees, waiting to recapture her neighbor's full attention as he accepted the call.

“Hey, Hank.”

“He did what? Did someone tell him to do that?”

“Hank, relax.”

“Relax...”

“He's new. He's only been on board for a few weeks. Mistakes happen.”

“He's at the client's house now?”

“Okay, I'm going over there.”

“Yeah, now. Send me the address. I'm on my way.”

“No problem. Remember, he's part of the team, Hank. Losing your shit over something like this isn't good for anyone. I need you to set a better example than acting this way.”

“There's no need to apologize. I just need you to be more of a leader.”

Okay, good. I'm leaving my house now.”

“Bye.”

Ryan slid his phone back into his pocket and looked into his neighbor's brown eyes. “I have to go.”

“Now?” Jen whined.

“Yeah,” he told her as he sat up and walked into the kitchen. “Make sure you lock the front door when you leave!” he shouted back into the living room. “The kitchen looks great!”

The door slammed shut.

Jen instantly grabbed the ballpoint pen and placed it inside her mouth, soaking in the praise and approval of the man who lived next door.

Chapter 9 – Like Mother, Like Daughter.

8:12PM.

“Sorry dinner's late, honey,” Jen apologized to her daughter who was sitting across the table from her.

Ashley didn't respond.

Dinner was late for two reasons. One, Jen had spent forty-five minutes cleaning her neighbor's kitchen floor. Two, after Ryan left, Jen didn't exactly hurry home. 

She was still soaking in his compliment after she heard the front door slam shut. And like some horny teenage girl with an oral fixation, Jen headed up the stairs with her neighbor's pen still in her mouth. If Ryan couldn't take care of her in person, then he was still going to help.

Ten minutes later she was lying on his king sized bed, completely naked with a dress shirt she'd retrieved from the laundry pressed against her face. It smelled so manly. There wasn't any cologne or deodorant permeating from the cotton. It was just testosterone. The distinct smell of a strong, powerful man who women yearned for. Jen didn't need any help from her dildo or vibrator this time. All she needed was that dress shirt and her fingers rubbing her clit. The fantasy of what her neighbor could do to her was more than enough fuel to help her cross the finish line in record time.

“And...” Jen continued, “I'm sorry.”

Ashley made eye contact with her mother for the first time in two weeks.

“I overreacted that night and—”

“I'm so sorry, Mom!” Ashley passionately interrupted. “I acted like such a bitch!”

“No, no, no, I did,” Jen told her daughter. “I was out of line.”

Ashley shook her head. “You were just looking out for me and I don't know why I got so mad at you. I've missed talking to you!”

A smile grew on the mom's face. The past two weeks had been rough for a number of reasons, but the biggest was how lonely she felt at home. Tom and her had basically been roommates for years. They usually greeted each other with a slight head nod and went about their days. She didn't realize just how important Ashley was in her life until they weren't on speaking terms.

“I broke up with Mike.”

Jen's smile turned to shock. “What!?”

“Two days ago,” the young brunette told her.

“Why?”

“Because of you,” Ashley answered.

“Me!?”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “Okay, so I've been spending a lot of time just thinking lately. You know, there's only so much Netflix a person can watch...”

Jen chuckled.

“Sure, Mike and I FaceTimed every night, but we hadn't seen each other outside of school in two weeks. And he seemed fine with that.”

Jen set her fork down on her plate. “Oh my God, honey. Me grounding you is the reason you broke up with Mike?”

“Kinda,” Ashley responded. “Actually, no. It opened my eyes. Well, a conversation we had a while ago is really what did it. Remember when we talked about your college boyfriend, Bill?”

Jen nodded.

“Okay, so I'm sitting in my room the other day and it finally hits me. Your relationship with Bill sounded like so much fun. It wasn't over-the-top, Hollywood movie type of stuff. I'm not delusional. I don't expect a guy to do some amazing, unimaginable thing every day, but I do like excitement. And I kept thinking to myself that it's been over a week, and Mike hasn't made one attempt to see me.”

“Because you were grounded,” Jen told her.

“Yeah, but...”

“But?” she asked with a smirk.

“But...” Ashley laughed, “I kept waiting for him to try to sneak into the house to come see me, or to sneak me out somewhere, or to show up one night and try to sweet talk you into letting him hang out for a little while. I know you, Mom. You act like a big hardass but you're a giant softie at heart. You totally would've let him in.”

Jen laughed. “Yeah...I probably would've.”

“And then three days ago,” Ashley continued, “I had a dream where a rock kept hitting my bedroom window in the middle of the night. So, I get out of bed to go see what it is, and Mike is sitting in our front yard in a lawn chair. It's like twenty degrees out and lightly snowing but he doesn't care. He's just waiting for me. So I opened my window and guess what?”

“What?”

“We just talked. For hours. We had a conversation where we shouted back and forth to each other in the middle of the freezing cold because he just had to see me. And then I woke up and...and...”

“And what, honey?” Jen asked.

“And I realized that would never happen,” Ashley told her. “That he would never make a moment like that with me. That he would never do the kinds of things Bill did with you. And at that very moment, I realized I didn't want him in my life anymore.”

“So, now what?”

“Well, now I kinda look at guys differently,” Ashley told her mother. “I don't judge them by looks, or athleticism, or whatever. At least not as much. I kind of find myself drifting toward the creative types. And maybe even some of the bad boys...”

“Oh, shit...” Jen groaned.

The teen rolled her eyes. “Not like drug dealers or anything, Mom! Just like, I don't know, guys who have an edge to them. Guys I wasn't giving a second look to in the past. And I can tell you this, Mom. I'm done asking men out! If a guy wants me, he better make a move on me! Because the kind of guy I want doesn't wait for me to make a move on him!”

Jen could only shake her head in amazement at what she was hearing. Her daughter was eighteen years old but she was already armed with the knowledge most woman don't acquire until their thirties or forties. She wasn't going to have any problems dating.

“So, what about you?”

Jen looked up. “What?”

“You and Dad,” Ashley clarified herself. “What about you guys? Have you been working on things?”

“Some things can't be fixed, honey,” Jen groaned.

“It can't be that bad, Mom.”

The older brunette shook her head. “It certainly isn't good.”

“I'm sorry.”

“It's not your fault, baby,” Jen told her. “A little advice?”

Ashley attentively looked at her mother.

“Try out as many guys as you can,” Jen started. “And I'm not talking sexually. In fact, that's the last thing I want you doing. I'm talking about getting to know men, even flirting with them and seeing how they react. You want to be able to tell if he's reciting lines or if his personality and conversational abilities are just naturally effortless. And when you eventually find a guy you want, I want you to be loyal to him because you want to be, not because you think you need to be. That's the key to long-term happiness in a relationship. Being with someone you respect and admire. Someone who has qualities you look up to.”

Jen paused. She couldn't believe that just came pouring out of her mouth. Not only did she pretty much admit to her daughter that she didn't look up to or respect her husband, but she had essentially repeated what Ryan told her at his kitchen table the other day. Her neighbor was right. She needed guidance.

Ashley nodded. “Duly noted. And by the way, men kinda suck.”

The mom laughed. “No...they...they don't. Men have it tough, honey. They're raised being told they need to treat women like princesses, but in reality, nothing turns a woman off more than being treated that way. If more young boys were raised by real men, you wouldn't have such a problem finding a guy you want. Because they would be everywhere. But, unfortunately, the world consists of thirty and forty-year-old boys who can't figure out why flowers and chocolate don't gain a woman's undying love and loyalty.”

Jen paused again. Holy shit... Ryan was right.

The two girls resumed eating their salads.

“What's the craziest thing you've ever done sexually?”

Jen stopped chewing. “Excuse me?”

Ashley looked up from her dinner. “You told me you and Bill did all kinds of crazy stuff you still think about and remember. Like what?”

“Let's not go there...”

“God, why do you always do this?” Ashley huffed.

“Do what?”

“Act like you don't want to talk about sex,” the teen stated. “But then you always cave and get really into it the second we do. Can we just skip the act for once?”

Jen smiled at her daughter before digging at a carrot with her fork. “Craziest thing I've ever done...?”

“Craziest thing.” Ashley smiled.

“Okay,” Jen said as it came to her. “One year Bill drove us to his parent's house for Christmas. They had a pretty big house, but it was older, and you can hear everything in older houses.”

The teen's smile grew.

“His parents, brother, both sisters, and two cousins were all there. So, we go to our room for the night and I honestly just wanted to go to bed. You know, we're in a strange house full of people I'd just met.”

Ashley was grinning now.

“But I start feeling hands on me. I slap them away all playfully thinking Bill's just teasing me, when suddenly I feel something around my neck.”

“What was it?” Ashley asked.

“His belt,” Jen smiled. “He didn't ask, he didn't let me know it was coming, he just wrapped it around my neck and pulled...tight.”

“Jesus...”

“Jesus is right,” Jen smirked as she took herself back to that night. “We had a safe word and everything so it's not like I couldn't have put a stop to it.”

“What was it?”

“What was what?” Jen asked.

“Your safe word,” Ashley specified.

Jen glanced across the table at her daughter. “Vandelay.”

“Vandelay?”

“Yeah,” Jen giggled, “I was dating a Seinfeld fan. Anyway, so the next thing I know, I'm on my hands and knees and he's hammering away at me from behind.”

Ashley's eyes were bulging out of her head. Her mom had been open with her in the past, but nothing close to this. She was loving it!

“And every time he pulls back on the belt, I can't breathe. So I'm instinctively reaching out for stuff to grab onto and I end up knocking the lamp off the nightstand and it breaks. A minute later the alarm clock follows. And they both smashed onto the floor. Remember, it's like 2:30 in the morning and everyone's sleeping.”

“What happened next?” Ashley asked.

“I'm getting kinda loud. I don't know, it's how I've always been, I guess. So he stops, takes off one of the socks he's wearing, and stuffs it into my mouth before getting back to business.”

“Ewwww!” the young brunette reacted. “That's so gross!”

Jen laughed. “When you're in the moment...nothing's gross. So, as it's picking back up, I'm seriously considering using our safe word for the first time. I trusted Bill, but he was the most sexually aggressive person I've ever met. A bomb going off wouldn't have stopped him when he was in the swing of things. But I knew our safe word would bring our session to a halt. My hand finally reaches out and grabs the bed headboard and I feel instant relief. Finally I have something to hold onto, you know? But nope... Bill yanks me back and slaps my ass...hard!”

Ashley gulped.

“Like, really hard. I spit his sock out and yell, 'what the fuck!' completely forgetting we're in a house full of his relatives.”

“You did?” Ashley laughed.

“Yeah,” she smiled. “So my ass is stinging when suddenly my neck snaps back. I look up and Bill's face is hovering over mine. He peers down into my eyes and says, 'how dare you disobey, Daddy!”

The teen raised her eyebrows. “Holy shit!”

“He shoves his sock even deeper into my mouth and yanks me back so hard that my entire body goes flying backwards into his chest. Ashley, still to this day, I have no idea how he didn't break me in half. I've never felt anything like that. I'm literally in heaven, but something catches my eye in my peripheral.”

“What?” Ashley inquired.

“The door is opening...”

“No...” Ashley grinned.

“Uh-huh,” Jen nodded. “So, I'm screaming, 'Vandelay! Vandelay!' at the top of my lungs, but because this fuckin' sock is lodged down my throat, it's sounds like, 'vaaaaa! vaaaaa!'”

The young brunette was pounding the table in a fit of laughter.

“Real funny, right?” Jen rolled her eyes. “What's even more funny is who was standing there.”

“Who was it?”

“His dad,” Jen told her.

“His dad!?” Ashley reacted.

“Yep,” Jen continued. “He just shook his head, turned around, and walked out of the room...closing the door behind him.”

“What about Bill?”

“Oh, he never stopped,” Jen answered. “I told you, a bomb couldn't distract him during sex. The next morning we're all sitting at the table during breakfast and none of his family would even look at me. Except his little brother. He had an ear-to-ear grin on his face until we finally left that afternoon.”

“Jesus, Mom. You were wild!”

“I had some fun times,” Jen smiled. “You're up.”

“I'm up?”

“Yeah, let's go,” Jen nodded. “Your wildest story.”

“I can't follow that!” Ashley laughed.

“It's not a competition,” she told her daughter.

Ashley took a moment to think. “Okay, over the summer I went to a party with Mike at his friend's house. The parents were out of town and everyone was playing beer pong in the basement and stuff. You know, high school shit. I really try not to be an old lady but I just hate that stuff. I'd rather go on a hike, or cuddle alone together and watch a movie or whatever...but I'm getting off track. So, one of his idiot friends gets the idea of having the girls play strip beer bong, and of course, no one agrees to it. Well, one girl did: Stacy Moretti. But Stacy would make out with Grandpa John if you asked her to.”

Jen laughed.

“Mike's dumbass friend keeps running his mouth and then suddenly Mike starts taunting me. Telling me that I'm scared to play and I'm afraid I'll embarrass myself and stuff. I guess he thought he could get under my skin to the point I would want to prove something to him. Like I'm a six-year-old or something.”

“Did you play?” Jen asked.

“I decided to make a bet with him.”

“A bet?”

Ashley grinned. “Yeah, a bet. Mike was really getting on my nerves like he always did when he was around his friends, so I told him if he could make a shot from fifteen feet away, then I would make out with Stacy Moretti for thirty seconds.”

“What!?”

“Mom, it was an impossible shot,” Ashley told her. “It was from the other side of the couch and there were only three cups left on the table. It would literally be a once in a lifetime make.”

“What happened if he didn't make it?”

“He would have to kiss his friend Dave on the lips for five seconds.”

Jen smiled. “I like that.”

“I know,” Ashley smirked, “so did I...until he made the shot.”

Jen's face dropped. “He made it!?”

“The craziest thing was I could tell it was going in from the second it left his hand. It had a perfect trajectory to it, bounced off the table, flew into the air, and landed right into the center of the middle cup. Splash...”

“So, you had to make out with Stacy?”

“Mike's jumping around, high-fiving everyone, meanwhile Stacy's just grinning at me,” Ashley continued. “She's so bi it's crazy.”

“I hope she's cute at least.”

Ashley nodded. “She's a sexy Italian girl. I could've done a lot worse.”

Jen knew her daughter had a little bit of herself in her, but this was way more than she'd expected.

“Mike suddenly wanted to do it in private and all the guys start yelling and complaining. Everyone had their phones out so I was very happy when we went into his buddy's bedroom. So, I sit on the edge of the bed and Stacy sits down right next to me. Again, she's all smiles. Like someone just told her she won the lottery or something. I know I'm cute, but I'm not that cute. At this point, I realize Stacy Moretti has a thing for me.”

“Jesus, Ashley...”

“Mike's standing there all excited and I'm just happy he isn't recording it, you know? Because there's no way he would've been able to keep it to himself. I kind of take a sigh of relief, turn toward Stacy, and she's literally an inch from my mouth, already leaning in to kiss me.”

“You two really kissed?”

“We didn't kiss, Mom,” Ashley shook her head, “we made out. I have no idea what got into me. Maybe I have a little bi in me too or maybe I had a thing for Stacy in that moment, but whatever it was, I was really into it. But suddenly something felt off. It wasn't just us two anymore. It was different.”

“What was it?” the mom asked.

Ashley looked down at the table.

“What was it, honey?” Jen repeated.

She tried to open her mouth but only a sigh escaped.

“Ashley, baby, something didn't happen to you, did it?”

The teen instantly shook her head. “No, nothing like that. But...but I kinda felt something. And when I opened my eyes and glanced to my right while still kissing Stacy, I couldn't believe what I was seeing.”

Jen was eagerly awaiting her daughter's reveal.

“Mike had his dick out.”

Jen's jaw dropped. “He had what out?”

“His dick,” Ashley repeated. “And he was pressing it against edge our mouths while we were kissing.”

Jen didn't know how to react.

“I jump back and I'm on the verge of losing my shit. Not only is he pressing his dick against my mouth, but he's pressing it against some slut's mouth too! Like, without even asking me! Right in front of me! I'm his girlfriend!”

“What did he say?”

Ashley rolled her eyes. “That this was his ultimate fantasy and he didn't know if he would have a chance at something like this again. I'm fuming as I'm looking at him. It was so unbelievably disrespectful. I'm ranting and raving when suddenly his face changes.”

“His face changed?”

“Yeah, and at first, I didn't know what was going on, but it only took me a few seconds to take an accurate guess. That fuckin' slut had slid off the bed, and was on her knees in front of him, giving him head.”

“Wait,” Jen chimed in, confused, “this happened back in the summer? I thought you two just broke up?”

“We just did,” Ashley told her.

“So...this didn't end it?” Jen asked. It suddenly hit her as a slight smile formed across her lips. “Ashley, you didn't...”

“For the second time that night, I don't know what got into me,” the high school senior said. “The next thing I know I'm down next to Stacy, trying to prove I can give my boyfriend a better blowjob than her.”

“Ashley...”

“And you know what, Mom?” she continued, “it was the single hottest thing I've ever experienced. We ended up making out over the head of his dick. I don't even know how to describe how sexy I felt.”

Jen's right hand was over her mouth in a state of disbelief.

“So, Mike says he has one more fantasy and tells us to 'open up.' Of course Stacy, the slut that she is, immediately opens her mouth and sticks her tongue out. And I don't want to be outdone in front of my boyfriend so I position myself next to her, lean my face over until it's resting against hers, and stick my tongue out too. He came on both our faces.”

Jen couldn't even open her mouth.

“Now, here I am thinking I just did the craziest thing ever, when Stacy grabs my head and starts licking my face clean. Like a dog or something! She completely cleans off my right cheek before leaning forward and taking Mike's dick back in her mouth. And of course that asshole starts reaching for his phone so I snatch it from him and hold onto it. The last thing I want is for any evidence of this to exist.”

“Is this what you kids are doing in high school now!?”

Ashley shook her head. “No, I honestly don't think most of our high school's getting any action. It's pretty much just the guys with girlfriends who are getting something. Well, that, and the guys who Stacy Moretti takes a personal interest in...”

Jen's hands had made their way to the top of her head. “Can't follow me?” she began to laugh. “Can't follow me!?”

Ashley jumped in and suddenly the two were laughing hysterically at the kitchen table.

“I think I have a bit of you in me, Mom,” Ashley grinned.

Jen shook her head. “Honey, I've never done anything like that!”

“There's a package for you on the counter, by the way.”

“For me?” Jen asked.

“Yeah,” Ashley answered. “It was with the mail.”

Jen looked over at the counter and saw a small, manila envelope. She sat up and approached it. “There's no mailing address?”

“No,” Ashley responded, “just your name.”

All the envelope had written on it was, 'Jen.' There wasn't any postage, or mailing address, or anything. 

“Shit, what if it's anthrax or something?” Ashley asked.

“Anthrax?” Jen laughed. “Baby, you've been watching too much Netflix. “Anthrax...” she continued to shake her head as she tore open the self adhesive package.

She immediately stopped laughing.

“Is anthrax that crazy?” Ashley asked. “I remember reading about people receiving them in the mail after 9/11 or something.”

“Yeah, but I do like my Netflix...” the young girl said to herself before lifting a forkful of lettuce to her mouth.

“Oh, Mom! Guess what movie I watched last week? Okay, so there's this supernatural entity that follows you after you have sex. It's kind of like a paranormal STD. No one else can see it except the person it's hunting down, and it won't stop until it kills them! Once they die, the entity instantly starts hunting down the previous person. So, the guy or girl who gave the STD to the person who was just killed, is next to be followed. I know, I know...it sounds kind of far-fetched, but, Mom, it was amazing! And I know how much you love horror movies! It might've been the best I've ever seen! I left it in my queue for you.”

“Mom?”

“Mom!?” Ashley asked as she turned around in her seat.

Jen looked up at her daughter.

“Are you okay?” the teen asked.

Jen nodded. “I'll be back...in a bit...don't wait for me!”

“Umm...okay,” Ashley said with a hint of confusion to her voice.

Jen hurried upstairs to her room and locked the door behind her. She quickly sat down on her bed and reached inside the package. Her hand re-emerged with a black leather collar. A large metal loop hung from the middle, with the word, 'Daddy's' on the left side, and, 'Girl' on the right of the rugged leather. She instantly wrapped it around her neck, finding the closest snap buckle to make it as tight as possible. The mom fell back onto her bed and smiled while running her fingers along the strap which choked her throat. Jen finally found the feeling she was looking for. She finally felt like Daddy's little girl.

Chapter 10 – The Shirt.

The next day. 4:54PM.

Jen fastened her new collar around her neck the second she arrived home from work. She made sure to throw on a turtleneck sweater to avoid any questions from her daughter. 'Hey, honey, you know that neighbor I got mad at you over a few weeks ago? Well, I'm wearing a collar he sent me that says 'Daddy's Girl,' but don't worry, I still love your father...' probably wouldn't go over so well at the dinner table. But then again, maybe Ashley would understand. The more the two of them divulged in sexy, dirty gossip, the more alike they seemed to be. Her mind had wandered all day at work and every time it did, she found herself looking down at her wedding ring.

You tried to suck Ryan's cock yesterday! Jesus, Jen! That wasn't a fantasy or emotional cheating. You really tried to cheat! And you would've if his phone didn't ring! So, this is it? Twenty years and it's over? You've finally threw in the towel and called it quits? Congrats, Jen, you're officially a quitter!

What other choice was there? Divorce would devastate Ashley and she couldn't do that to her daughter, but in a selfish way, divorce would devastate herself as well. It would mean she finally had to admit to a failed marriage. Everyone around her would look and see she was a failure. Why couldn't she just keep her mediocre home life, but have her needs taken care of somewhere else?

Because that's not how life works, princess! Are you serious with that shit? So you want to come home to a nice, big house every day, but mosey on over next door for your sexual urges to be taken care of? You live in a dream world, you know that, don't you?

But what if she could have her cake and eat it to? Without really even cheating? There were still ways around that. Those ten minutes she spent alone on Ryan's bed last week was proof she could still get by without physically cheating. It was the hardest she'd cum in God knows how long and it was purely a mental thing.

She suddenly dropped the shirt she was folding in front of the dryer and smiled. Bingo! That would hold her over for who knows how long!? God, it was perfect! She quickly scrambled to finish folding the laundry and scurried upstairs, grabbing her coat on the way out of the door.

Please be home, please be home, please be home...

Jen rang her neighbor's doorbell.

Come on...be home!

The door opened. Jen was greeted by her neighbor dressed in a dark black suit, a white dress shirt underneath, a smooth black tie which was completely exposed due to the jacket being unbuttoned, and white french cuffs poking out from his wrists. If he asked her to marry him at this exact moment, her answer would be yes.

“Come on in,” Ryan smiled before turning and walking toward the kitchen, his black dress shoes tapping on the hardwood floor the entire way. “I just got home.”

She shut the door behind her and looked in the direction of the kitchen while she stood in the hallway. “Sorry to bug you but I'm just gonna be a second. I lost something and I think it might be in the basement.”

“Oh,” Ryan stated as he poured himself a glass of water, “what did you lose?”

“Umm...”

Oh, shit. You didn't think this one through, did ya?

“I uh...I lost my uh...my bracelet. I've been looking all over my house and now I'm thinking maybe it's here.”

Ryan nodded his head as Jen hurried downstairs. She re-emerged thirty seconds later.

“Got it!” she yelled as she rushed toward the door.

“Jen.”

She froze.

Just say you're in a hurry and you have to go!

The brunette tried to step forward but couldn't. It was like Ryan's voice had a trance on her. She slowly turned her head and looked the twenty or so feet into the kitchen, making sure to keep her shoulders parallel with the front door which was just feet away.

“Where was it?”

“Where was what?” she asked.

“Your bracelet,” he specified.

“Umm...on the...on the floor.”

He nodded before taking a sip of water from his spot at the kitchen table. “What's in your hand, Jen?”

“Huh?”

“Your left hand,” he told her. “What's in it?”

Jen clenched her left hand which she thought was hidden from her neighbor's view. “Nothing.”

“Doesn't look like nothing to me.”

You're so pathetic...

She took a deep gulp but only felt dryness in her mouth and throat. “I uh...I...”

Ryan calmly took another sip of water.

Jen dropped her head and exposed her left hand.

“What are you doing with that?”

She closed her eyes and tried to think. How was she going to explain trying to steal one of his dirty dress shirts without seeming like a desperate, crazy, old lady? She wasn't sure there was a way...

“Come over here and take a seat,” Ryan told her.

She dejectedly shuffled into the kitchen and sat in the chair next to her neighbor. Her left hand never stopped clenching his red dress shirt which was now draped across her lap.

“I love that shirt.”

Jen looked up. “What?”

“That shirt,” Ryan smirked. “I love it.”

“You...you do?”

His smirk turned to a smile. “Good things always happen whenever I wear it.”

“Like what?” Jen asked.

“Earlier this week I wore that shirt to a meeting with a client. Well, a potential client. We've been trying to get this guy for a while. Things went well, and he invites me to join him at a bar, so I go. We're having a few drinks, and the entire time I'm noticing this blonde a few tables away who keeps looking at me. She's probably early twenties, fit, sexy little gym bunny. So, after my guy decides to call it a night, I go over to this girl's table.”

Jen was intensively listening to her neighbor reminiscing about his night at the bar while she continued to hold onto his shirt.

“We get to talking, and thirty minutes later, I'm pulling into my driveway with her in the passenger seat.”

“Just like that?” Jen asked.

“Just like that,” Ryan told her. “Jen, there are four types of guys in the world. The first type of guy is all physicality. I'm sure you've run into these types at the gym, or the clubs, or whatever. They're usually brash, confident, and almost arrogant at times. This guy believes he can get any woman he wants, because he has the body he wants. He thinks he can fuck a girl into wanting more. He sometimes can for a while but she'll eventually walk.”

“Why?”

“Well, that leads us to guy number two,” Ryan continued. “Now, guy number two is a self-proclaimed ladies' man. He has hundreds and maybe even thousands of lines and witty comebacks for every situation. He's what most people refer to as a 'PUA.'

“A PUA?

“A pickup artist,” Ryan explained. “He thinks he can get into a woman's head and control her mentally, but he can't. It's an act. Most of these guys come from a history of failure with women, so they read a bunch of books and watch some videos, and now they think they have this spell they can just cast on girls.”

Jen was very familiar with guy number two from her single days of being involved in the party scene.

“These guys can usually keep woman around for a while, but they always eventually see past the act and bolt. Because it's not natural. Now, guy number three doesn't have either of those qualities. He just exists. He's never going to wow a girl, he's never going to fuck her properly, and he sure as shit isn't going to get into her head. He's just...there.

Her neighbor was describing Tom to a tee. 

“So, what about guy number four?”

Ryan took a long sip of water and set his now empty glass down on the table. “There aren't a lot of number fours out there, Jen. Guy number four has the physical prowess to fuck a girl the right way. When she's trying to look up but her eyes just roll into the back of her head. When she's trying to speak but coherent words aren't coming out. When she wouldn't be able to pick her own mother out of a lineup because she feels like she's about to be broken in half. When she tries to walk to the bathroom after you're done with her but she can't because her legs are weak. Newborn baby deer legs...” he chuckled. 

Jen opened her mouth but Ryan wasn't done.

“But sex is only ten percent physical.”

“Ten percent?” she asked with her eyebrows raised.

“Ten percent,” he repeated. “Jen, sex is ninety percent mental. A guy who can get into a woman's head can do things a guy who's all brute force can't even dream of. But no woman will be completely satisfied unless she's being stimulated on both a physical and mental level. I always laugh when I hear men talk about how their wives or girlfriends just suddenly lost interest in them. They'll reference the expensive jewelry they bought or the exotic vacations they took them on, but that stuff is meaningless. Women don't want gifts.”

“Most women do,” Jen disagreed.

“No, they don't,” Ryan responded. “Women may think they want material things, but deep down, they don't. If a woman isn't with a man she truly craves, she'll settle for what he has to offer, and in most cases, that's something he bought her. He works twenty hours to make five hundred dollars, then he goes and buys her a five hundred dollar necklace, and that's his way of showing his value. 'I love you twenty hours worth.' But what does that mean? Is a necklace, or a ring, or a bracelet going to stimulate her on any level? Is she going to go to bed dreaming of waking up to see her man, or her necklace? For most women, the answer is her necklace. And for those men, she was long gone before they ever had her.”

“Most women still like gifts,” Jen stated. The one under her turtleneck was a perfect example.

“Give a woman a five dollar bouquet of flowers on Valentine's Day and show me how many guys are getting laid. You want to know the few who are?”

“Who?” Jen asked.

“The ones who stimulate their woman's minds. You see, Jen, real men are gifts. Every day around them is special. A truly happy woman doesn't care about material things because her man can't be replaced like a flashy piece of jewelry can. If she loses that man, she's losing that stimulating part of her life. And sure, she's going to attempt to replace it with some average Joe who pays her bills, but she's never going to get that stimulation back. You want to know how much that collar you have on cost me?”

A surprised look grew on her face.

“I know you're wearing it under there,” he grinned while pointing at her turtleneck which was showing through her unzipped coat. “Five bucks.”

“Five bucks?”

“Yep,” he smiled, “and I guarantee that five dollar collar means more to you than a five thousand dollar necklace from your husband would.”

Jen's hand slid under the neck of her sweater and began playing with her present.

“It's the same reason I didn't offer to buy that blonde a drink at the bar the other night. Because I didn't need to. If you can't take a girl home without having to buy her a drink, then you never really had her. You're just renting her for the night. And before I fucked her physically in my bed, I fucked her mentally in that bar.”

“How?”

“I gave her what she needed,” Ryan told her. “You see, girls who are physically deprived are easy to spot, but girls who are mentally deprived stick out like sore thumbs. I bet she had some college jock boyfriend who was fucking her right, but he wasn't in her mind. If he was, she wouldn't have been looking at me, she wouldn't have smiled when I sat down at her table, and she certainly wouldn't had been making me breakfast when I walked into my kitchen the next morning. I gave her what she needed. I connected with her mentally and I carried that into the bedroom. Before I ever fucked her, I'd already marked her mind. She was mine. I could've given her the worst lay of her life and she still would've loved it. But I didn't. I fucked her brains out. And you know what? I ruined her for her boyfriend and however many other guys come after him until she eventually finds a real man. Assuming she ever does.”

“But what about if things just get stale?” Jen asked. “Like...in a long marriage.”

“After the honeymoon phase...” he nodded. “Relationships shouldn't be work. They shouldn't be stressful. It should be effortless if two people truly desire each other. The problem is people settle for partners they don't desire, and when year two or three rolls around, they're sitting there wondering why they don't want to fuck their husband or wife anymore. They don't understand why the sight of their spouse makes them sick. It's because their disdain for that person was hidden by naiveness. You need to look past a person's outer shell and see who they really are. You know what I saw the day you introduced yourself at my front door?”

Jen curiously looked at her neighbor. “What?”

“A woman who deserved more,” Ryan told her.

“More?”

“It was your body language,” he said. “Your shoulders were slumped, your eyes looked tired...you just looked defeated. And a woman like you with a beautiful daughter and a nice house, in theory, should never look like that. But you did. And the reason you did is because there isn't a man in your life. A real man anyway.”

“You got all that from me standing there?”

“And then when you came over to give your daughter her phone,” Ryan continued without answering her question, “that was textbook. The way you lost your shit at me, the way you tried to show your dominance, the way you took it out on Ashley when you felt helpless. Jen, you were lost. You felt lost because you knew you didn't have anyone to rely on. It's just you and you alone. You have a daughter but she's a young woman, not a man. And women need strong men. To guide them. To make them better. To be there for them. So, go ahead and keep that shirt, because you need it a lot more than I do.”

To be continued.

 

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