A Girl Named Hope Ch. 04
All Characters Are 18+
I texted Sarah when I got out of work. I headed home in the Jeep, but never received a text back from her, and she wasn't there when I got home. I wondered if Sarah had a "Hope" of her own. This would explain a lot of things. I always felt that I had landed a more beautiful, and successful wife than I should have, and maybe Sarah had finally realized that too.
I pulled out an extra set of work clothes, and threw them in an overnight bag, along with my travel shaving kit. I changed into a decent pair of jeans, a Clutch concert t-shirt, and my leather bomber. I texted Sarah that I was going to the bar with Dave, and that I might not be home tonight. I told her not to worry, that we had a designated driver.
I was headed back out to the garage, when I passed a bookshelf. On the shelf that was just below my usual field of view was a thick pink hardcover book; which wasn't in itself unusual, but something shiny was sticking out from between the pages. It drew my eye, and I walked over and picked the book up. It was the corner of a mirror sticking out between the pages. I opened the book up, and found that the inside had been hollowed out, leaving about a six-inch by five-inch hole to hide things in. The mirror had a residue of a white powder coating its surface. There was a pill bottle with no label that was half full of big white tablets. I pulled out my iPhone and Googled the identifiers on the pills. It came back in .37 seconds. It was oxycodone. There was also a small device that looked like it might be used to crush pills, and it was coated with the same white powder.
This explained as much about Sarah as her possibly having an affair. If she was snorting prescription painkillers, she would have mood swings, and would probably be less interested in life in general, and in me specifically. An addiction would also explain her being tired all the time, missing work, and her being away from home all the time, 'at a friend's house.' This; surprisingly, upset me a great deal. I couldn't honestly say whether or not I actually still loved Sarah, but the taste of betrayal was bitter in my mouth, as ironic as that may sound.
I needed to get the fuck out of this house before I lost it. My temper is slow to flare, but once it gets burning it is hard to put out. I put everything back in the book and replaced it on the shelf where it was. I even left the corner of the mirror poking out, just like I found it. I picked up my bag, and headed out to the Jeep. I sent Hope a quick text.
Me: I am on my way, and I have a bag packed to spend the night. I don't know how much fun I will be. I have a lot on my mind right now, and I really need someone to talk to.
Bob: It sounds like you need something that will make you smile. I have the perfect thing. You can always talk to me about anything, babe. I am an excellent listener.
I got a pic of her in some little girlish looking white panties with pink polka dots, and a tiny pink bow in front. I almost groaned with desire despite all the things on my mind. This girl definitely knew how to drive me crazy. That was good because right now I needed a distraction.
The drive felt hours longer than it actually was. I was a little nervous. I had a possible deal breaking issue with Sarah, and now there was a thing between Hope and me. I could no longer say that I was ambushed by a pretty girl, or that it was a fluke. I had made plans to stay a second night with her tonight, and we had texted earlier about this not being just a booty call. She also kind of invited me to move in with her; but I was sure that was just talk. She did say that she would wait for me, and that she understood that things were complicated.
Complicated was very much an understatement. Don't get me wrong, I really, really liked Hope, but confronting such a major change in my life was uncomfortable. I guess that was why that I was still with Sarah to begin with: inertia. Newton said that objects at rest tend to stay at rest, unless an outside force acts upon them. I guess Hope could be my outside force. She made me see what I was missing in life by just living with Sarah like she was a roommate. I didn't even know what to think about the drug use. Smoking a little pot is no big deal, but opioids are a HUGE deal. Maybe the pills would be the straw that broke the camel's back. I hated to think that I would use Hope as a rebound because of Sarah's drug use. I needed to make sure that my motives with Hope were pure. She had been through enough shit in her life, and I didn't want to hurt her like everyone else had in her past.
I rang the bell, and Hope buzzed me up. She answered the door wearing the little pink polka dot panties, and a matching baby doll t-shirt that left her midriff bare. Her belly button was pierced so that a tiny bow made from little pink stones was inside her navel. She smiled at my reaction to her outfit. It must have been exactly what she hoped for. She launched herself into my arms, her mouth meshed with mine, she wrapped her legs around me, and my hands squeezed her ample backside. I had wanted to talk before sex; but she, and my cock had other ideas.
I pushed her inside the apartment, bumped the door closed, and maneuvered her to the dining room table. I dropped the bag of Chinese food on the floor, pushed the place setting that she had laid out so carefully for our dinner aside, and rested her bubble butt right on the edge. I had lifted her like I would a child and pulled her polka dotted panties down in one smooth motion. I never even broke contact with her lips. I shrugged off my leather jacket, kicked out of my shoes, and started undoing my belt and pants. Her hands took over as I kissed down her neck. She had my jeans and boxer briefs down in no time flat and was pulling my cock towards her slippery slit.
I had felt that her panties were damp, but I had no idea how soaked she was. Her love juice was already dripping down and making a spot on the tablecloth. She guided me close, and I slid all eight inches inside of her in one long, slow stroke. She leaned back on her elbows, making her next to impossible to kiss, but giving me room to bang her properly. That is what I proceeded to do. I loved the way her smallish, pert breasts jiggled as my pelvis slammed into her.
"Damn, Rob. Your cock is so fucking huge!" She loved to compliment me on my size, but it must have had a little truth to it. She had started unconsciously scooting back on the table, so I grabbed her hips, and held her in place so she couldn't run from my dick. "Yeah, give it to me Rob." She was so goddamned tight. I started putting a bit more oomph into every stroke, and without warning my orgasm hit me hard. My balls, which had been slapping against her beautiful ass, burned as I unleashed what felt like molten hot semen inside her teenaged snatch.
"Oh my god, yesssss! Give me all your cum, Rob. Don't stop!" She was very vocally appreciative of receiving my seed. I was willing to bet that the downstairs neighbors, and the ones that were right on the other side of the wall knew just how much she was enjoying getting my jizz. I pulled her hips forward just a bit more, and started banging her even harder. I felt the table cloth sliding back and forth; and a plate, and some silverware hit the carpet. She came hard, her body tensing like she was doing a sit-up. Her elbows left the table, and it was all that I could do just to keep myself inside of her. I felt the pressure of her cum squirting onto my stomach and legs. She totally soaked that end of the tablecloth.
"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck..." was her mantra as her body began to relax. She was visibly shaking. I picked her up, gathered her into my arms, and hugged her tight against me. Both of us still had on our shirts; and both of our shirts were soaked through with sweat. It seemed like we only had sex for a matter of minutes, but my knees were weak, and I was afraid that they would unhinge. I sat down in one of the wooden chairs and put her up on top of the table. She was still hugging me like I was her lifeline. Maybe I was her lifeline, and she was mine. Things seemed to be a lot simpler when we were holding each other. The funny part was that we were almost the same height with her sitting on the table.
The part of my mind that kept telling me how wrong this was seemed to have gone silent, while the part of my brain that kept telling me how right she felt was as loud as a fire alarm. She started kissing me slowly, and gently. I held her face in my hands, and we kissed like it was our first kiss ever. The turmoil and stress that had been surrounding me seemed to still when this beautiful, short, blonde firecracker held me close. It was so different than what I had been used to for so many years.
