The melodic ring of an instant message shook her from her sleep. She got up sleepily, making her way to her computer and sitting in the chair.
“Morning, babe.”
“Morning, hot stuff,” she typed back.
“How’s my pet?”
They’d been talking online for a couple months now. Sent pictures to each other. She’d even called him on the phone one night when her husband was away. They’d talked for hours, the conversation flowing as easily on the phone as it did on the computer. And, God, that voice. He had an amazing voice, confident and sexy…just thinking about that voice in her ear made the muscles between her thighs clench involuntarily.
It was insane, really. He was ten years younger than her, barely a man. She had a husband she loved, she’d been happy and content. Then she found David and everything changed. For one thing, her sex drive was at an all time high. Her husband enjoyed it, but couldn’t keep up. She found herself with hard plastic vibrating between her legs more often than not and once, she’d even whispered
his
name as she climaxed.
I’m not doing anything wrong,
she told herself. After all, she felt better about herself than she had in years. And yes, she was incredibly turned on most of the time, but what was so bad about that? Still, the idea that some guy she’d never met, a very young guy as a matter of fact, could bring that wetness between her legs made her feel guilty. Shamefully guilty – yet shamefully good at the same time.
Thank God he lived so far away. Thank God there would never be a chance for anything to happen. She constantly was pulling her thoughts away from David, telling herself it wasn’t a good thing to think about him so often, to fantasize about him, but
goddamn
it made her feel so good and so young.
She knew in her mind that there was no point to the fantasies. Really, when it came down to it, even if she could and did fuck him, what then? Give up her life and everything she’d worked for for some young kid she barely knew? Not only was that foolish, it was an impossibility. Realizing that, however, only made it easier for her to indulge in her fantasies. After all, if nothing would ever come of it, what was the harm in letting her imagination run wild?
And run wild it did. To the point where there were times, when she closed her eyes, and felt her husband’s hands on her, his mouth on her, his hardness inside of her, that she would pretend it was David. Every time she allowed herself this fantasy she could feel the need,
the wanting
, pull at her immediately and intensely. More often than not, the guilt she felt afterward was overshadowed by how powerful her orgasm had been.
“I’m good, babe. Gonna be gone for a week though. Have a conference to go to,” she typed back.
“Oh yeah? Where at?”
“Georgia. Savannah. I probably won’t have internet access, but we’ll see.”
As she packed her things, the thought of a week without the internet weighed on her mind, to her chagrin. She had friends she kept in touch with on the internet, people she’d known for years, even met in real life, and they were good friends. In spite of this, it still made her feel somewhat pathetic to be so dependent on it that a week without it made her feel like she was going to be without cigarettes or something. No David, either. That bothered her more than she cared to admit.
She’d rented a condo out on Tybee Island, about a half an hour from Savannah. Her first day there she spent on the beach, the wind blowing in her air. The smell of the ocean and the sound of the surf in her ear felt like sweet freedom. She had no one to answer to, nothing that needed to be done. No bills to pay, no dinner to prepare, just the ocean. She spent the entire day there, turning her skin red.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, she found herself alone in the sand. The only sound was crashing surf. The stars were bright and she lay on her back on the sand, watching the clouds form shapes and thinking about her life. Was what she had what she wanted from it? There was a certain comfort in security; in having a place to come home to, where she was loved and wanted, where there was a routine and everything had its place. But part of her yearned for more, much more.
How long had it been since she’d spent time alone, truly alone, without a care? Back when she was young and decidedly pretty - never beautiful, but admittedly cute - she hadn’t appreciated times like these. She’d spent her days longing for what she had now. She was old enough now to be able to look back on those days with not only longing, but also with the knowledge that they weren’t everything her mind wanted them to be. They’d been lonely, and scary, and yes, boring at times, but they’d been free.
She could do as she pleased, and she’d taken full advantage of it. There were some things she regretted, but for the most part she was glad she’d spent her youth wild and free, sleeping with whomever she chose, throwing caution to the wind. Now part of her longed for those days, even while realizing her life was happy and good.
The next day she muddled through the conference, in rooms that were either too cold or too hot, as her peers spoke in monotone about topics she had no interest in. Finally it was lunchtime, and she waited in the heat for the ferry across the Savannah River with other conference-goers, their name tags flashing in the sunlight.
Her first stop was the visitors bureau, where she asked about an internet café. The woman was helpful and friendly, sketching out a path on a map of the city in a lazy southern drawl. She walked in the heat through the city, the live oaks drooping with spanish moss, enjoying the small parks she would cross every few blocks. Finally she reached her destination, ordered a cappucino, and took her place in front of the three computer that overlooked Market Square. Berating herself for her foolishness, the first thing she sent was a note to David.
