Writers note: This is the next (sixth) chapter of my story about an affair that I had 8 years ago. All the events here actually happened. This one isn't as long as the previous two chapters, but that's the way it happened. And as with the other ones, there is a little bathroom play in here as well. I do appreciate all the comments received.
T
*
Somebody once said, "All good things must come an end," and little did I know that as I left the motel after our previous day of lovemaking, fate was already slowly conspiring against us. We had exchanged the words of love for the first time and it felt good and it was real. But somehow I had the feeling that it wasn't going to last. Not that I wanted it to end, but I just had that damn feeling.
We had our usual chats online, Thursday and Friday mornings. She told that she had a couple of very light bruises on her ass Thursday morning from the spanking I had given her on Wednesday, but by Friday they were all gone. There was the same old cutting up and having a good time as we fired messages back and forth. She couldn't talk to me on the weekends and this one seemed to go by a long longer than usual.
Monday started off like it always did, with her giving me the count of how strokes it had taken her husband to climax during their usual Saturday quick fuck.
I saw her sign on to ICQ, and her first message was "19."
Before I could type anything back, she followed up with, "after the first 10 I thought he was going to cum, but he kept going! 15 passed, I thought, hey, he's on a roll! I almost started feeling something! But then it was one more, then spurt, spurt, dribble. Kiss, roll over, snore!"
As usual her comments had me laughing real hard. After I settled down a bit, we talked about the other parts of the weekend and the week to come. The subject turned to what we would do when we met Wednesday morning.
"So, what's on the menu beside me for Wednesday? " she wrote.
I wrote back, "I'm thinking of something involving a rubber chicken."
Of course she wrote back, "are you bringing yours or should I bring mine?"
Damn, she was quick! I sent her a smiley and she sent one back to me.
I typed, "to be honest, I haven't thought about it yet, but I am sure you have!"
"What's the problem there, Mr. Expert O'Fuck?" she asked, "run out of ideas?"
I replied, "no, not at all. We have covered the basics pretty well and then some. But it might be time for a refresher course on a few, like how many times I can bring you to the edge of an orgasm, without letting you cum. I'm thinking here at least 5 or 6 times."
I thought she would write back screaming MEAN or MEANIE, like the last time I pulled that little trick on her, but this time she wrote, "Just be sure to bring a straight jacket and have the rubber room boys on standby, because that is where I will be headed!"
Again I roared with laughter as I typed, "Straight jacket, now there is an idea. Or I could just bring some rope along."
"Rope, oh to tie me up with? Yeah, I'm sure YOU would like that!" she sent and followed immediately with, "and then what would you do?"
I sent a smiley and said, "anything I fucking wanted."
"You get that already! Anything and everything!" she said back.
"Everything can be a very dangerous word," I answered.
She said, "Try me! Tell something that you would do if I was tied up."
I said, "I could bring a couple of vibrators along and the Sunday Paper. I'd stick one vibrator in your cunt and the other in your ass. I would turn then on, sit down and read the paper from start to finish." For some reason, she got very quiet. "Or," I continued, "there are those two very special sensitive spots of yours that I could spend some extended time playing with."
"Which ones are you taking about?" she asked and sent a smiley
"The ones on the bottom of your feet," I replied and sent a smiley also.
Again she went quiet. I had tickled her feet once before, maybe for 15 seconds and I thought she was going to have a panic attack.
After a good half of a minute passed, she finally replied, "and do I get to tie you up then?"
"Not on a first date," I replied and added, "kisssssssssssssssssssssss."
She sent back, "kiss, kiss, kiss. Kiss my boobies, kiss my twat, kiss my heiney. Kiss, kiss, kiss."
Once again I let loose with a loud laugh.
Finally I said, "I do have some work to get done this morning."
"Yes, I do too," she wrote, "I guess I will talk to you tomorrow then."
We exchanged long kisses and her last message before signing off was "boobies, twat, heiney. Boobies, twat, heiney!"
I laughed again and went about my day. But I did toss around some ideas in my head about what we could do Wednesday morning together. Tuesday morning I got to my office at 8:30 AM. As always I couldn't wait to talk to her that day. I turned on ICQ. But to my surprise, there was a message on there from her. I looked at the time the message was sent and it was 12:30AM.
The message read, "My dearest. I'm not sure that I will be around this morning to talk. My mother got very ill yesterday and I'm going back to the hospital to be with her. I probably will spend the night in her room. I will try to catch you on here sometime, even if it is for a couple of minutes. I think we should cancel Wednesday. Not that I want to. I need you so bad. I love you. Pam."
I wasn't upset. Life is life and things like this happen. I called and canceled the motel room for the next day. Around 9:30AM she came online. We exchanged long kisses.
"So what is going on?" I asked.
She wrote back, "She has pneumonia. I knew she had a cold, but it must have gotten worse and she didn't say anything. She was supposed to go food shopping with one of her friends yesterday. Her friend got there and she didn't answer the door or her phone when she called her from her cell phone. They have been friends for a very long time and had exchanged house keys in case of an emergency. So she went in and found Mom lying on her bed too weak to move and she called the ambulance." I was going to write something but she said, "they brought her to the hospital where I work. But do you want to know, how I found out she was there?"
"Yes?" I said.
"She has been there before and I am listed as her emergency contact. But whoever was in the emergency room, didn't know I worked in the hospital. So they called the house, which is fine. But, I did not learn, that my mother had been rushed, by ambulance, to the hospital WHERE I WORK, until I got home and found a note sitting on the TOILET SEAT LID in our bathroom, written by my wonderful, loving, ASSHOLE of a husband!" she typed.
I asked, "why didn't he just call you?"
"Because he thought they told me at the hospital. But why would they call the house if they had already told me? What a JERK!" she sent back.
I didn't have to see her face to know that she was pissed off, so I tried to change the subject a little by asking, "how is she doing?"
She replied, "she is stable. She should be okay but it will take a while. I slept in her room on a chair last night. I'll probably grab and hour or two of sleep here, then I'll go back and spend some time with her before I have to go to work. Depending on how she is doing, I might sleep in her room again tonight. I'm sorry about tomorrow, kissssssssssssssss."
"Kisssssssssssssss," I sent back, "you have nothing to be sorry about. Your mother is way more important than I am."
"Maybe you don't know just how important you are to me?" she wrote.
"I do know and I know how important you are to me. But the relationship with your mother is at completely different level of emotional involvement than is your relationship with me," I said.
She replied, "I know you are right, just that things are so mixed up inside of me right now."
I started, "Please read this slowly and maybe a couple of times so that it sinks in." I wrote, "You are very tired right now, even though you may not think it. I've slept in chairs before and I really felt like crap the next day. You are also in an extremely emotional state right now, because of her, us, and everything else. Both of those things don't really play nice together."