Kayla's urge was there, and her mind told her to keep it at just that: an urge. She was fooling herself though, of course she was. Once you have the urge, it's only the opportunity that keeps the urge at bay. And Kayla knew that if given the opportunity, she would act upon it. Your mind could protest all it wanted, but in the end, it would compromise...justify.
Kayla's opportunity came one week in November after meeting Colton, one of the maintenance workers from her apartment complex. Colton was twenty-two years old, had a gorgeous smile and a huge bulge in his jeans. The latter, Kayla noticed at once. (The eyes of men went to the tit, the eyes of women went to the penis, though not always at once as revealing as the tit) Colton had come late in the day to fix the kitchen sink, and he stayed to make small talk and stare at Kayla's cleavage, his gaze hardly nonchalant. Kayla didn't mind; she liked it. Colton apologized for arriving late to fix the sink. "This week has been a killer...been working close to eight, most nights. City inspection is coming up, management freaking out trying to catch up, all that good stuff."
Kayla had thought on her toes and dreamed up something else for him to fix—no emergency, just whenever he had time. Whenever he had time. "Nothing that couldn't wait until Friday," she had hinted, wondering if he would pick up on the brash advance. He did, and they talked about all kinds of things that night.
Friday came, and then the night. Robert was asleep in the bedroom again. What nerve she had to flirt with a man in their apartment, and then invite him back to...do what? What was her intention? But Robert wouldn't wake until ten at the earliest. Sick all his life, and now the last two weeks spent not doing jack except sleeping and loudly ordering food from his bed. Doctors didn't know because there was nothing to find. Kayla had diagnosed his behavior as layoff disease. Her husband had lost his job, that was his illness, and now he was trying to lose his wife.
Was he trying, or was that the justification part? It didn't matter, because the knock came at six-thirty, and Kayla invited him in. She wore a low cut black shirt that allowed her breasts to spill out. She also wore a jean skirt and no panties...just in case. They went to the kitchen again, this time to the oven, which Kayla had said had been "acting funny". There was no small talk on this night. No need, and no time. Every minute that passed meant Robert was more likely to wake. Kayla wondered if Colton would be here right now if he knew there was a husband in the other room, down the hall.
