Carpet Trap Pt 01

The alarm clock sounded and Mitchell rolled his head to glare at it before slapping it off. As he got up, shrugged into his workout clothes, he realized Catrina never came to bed last night either. It had become a routine now; going to bed alone, waking alone. The resentment and bitterness slowly grew and overtook everything that they once shared together.

Walking out into the living room, he tiptoed quietly towards his keys. The tv still on low, Catrina slept on the chair as she had done every night for months now. Mitchell felt the urge to slam the door on his way out, but managed to compose himself so as not to wake the kids.

The drive to the gym was a short one, a familiar daily relief now. For the last few years he had made it a point to get up and go to the gym as often as possible, even if just for the brief solitude it provided.

This morning though, he couldn't help his mind from wandering. Could she be thinking about him too? In this very moment? She never did sleep much. Guilt flooded in, crashing his wandering thoughts to a halt. Glancing around him as if someone could see his thoughts floating above his head. Catrina would pitch a fit if she knew how often he still thought about

her.

Mitchell hopped on the treadmill to warm up, chase the thoughts away if he had to. He recalled the last fight he had with Catrina about

her

and how she "never want(ed) to hear

her

name again!" forcing

her

name to take on the likeness of a dirty word. One in which he felt guilt any time he heard it uttered by a stranger, or in a movie, or that ill-fated friend of their daughter's who shared the same name. Catrina was quick to put the kibosh on that friendship too.

Why couldn't he get

her

out of his mind this morning? Usually he could push it back, but today felt different. Today was a struggle. Was she alright? Did she ever leave that place? Was she happy? Did she think of him too? Would she ever forgive him for abandoning their friendship of over twenty years to appease Catrina's insecurities?

Pulling himself from that dangerous line of thought, Mitchell realized he was running much faster than he had started out. Now covered in sweat, exasperated and gasping for air as he slowed the speed to a crawl before stopping completely. He sat on the edge of the treadmill, elbows on his knees as he pushed his hands through his hair and taking his head in his hands. "C'mon, Mitchell, get a grip" he said to himself as he pushed himself up and headed toward the showers.

The gym was quieter than usual this morning which made Mitchell more comfortable. And while he stood there completely nude, letting the hot water wash over him, his mind wandered back to

her

. How even after all this time, he still loved

her

and thought of

her

often and fondly. The warmth of

her

voice, the way

her

laugh could bring a smile to his face even on the worst of days. She had no idea just how beautiful she was to him, which made

her

all the more attractive in his eyes.

Mitchell paused to relish in the memory of

her

. Naturally wavy red hair, snowy Irish skin lightly sprinkled with reddish brown freckles that seemed so perfectly placed. Freckles trailing down

her

neck and chest, leading to

her

full bosom. Pert, pale pink nipples that he longed to take into his mouth someday.

He felt his cock become rock hard at the beautiful body dancing before his mind's eye. With one hand on the shower wall, he began pumping his cock in his other hand. Closing his eyes again, he can still vividly see the trail of freckles that slowly cascades under

her

breasts and down

her

stomach toward her nether region.

Her

mound was bare skin, freshly shaven and soft, more freckles still leading south to her beautifully pink nether lips. His fist pumped harder along his shaft and he felt himself edging closer to release. It had been so long since he and Catrina were intimate, he welcomed this release despite the guilty thoughts of

her

.

As he recalled images of

her

sopping wet pussy in his mind, his cock pulsed and throbbed in his fist. Cum shooting in bursts across the shower. The hot water quickly washing away the evidence from sight. Mitchell pressed his forehead to the shower wall, both hands on either side of the wall now as the water washed over his back. Regret washing over him, but not for thinking about

her

this time. This time he regretted having given up on

her

to salvage his relationship with Catrina. Giving up a lifelong friend, whom he was in love with, for a woman who only made him feel like she kept him around to tend to the house and kids. To basically be a live-in housekeeper and nanny. Sure, things had gotten better for a brief moment, but that was short lived as it always was. The real problem was not

her

and it did not go away with

her

.

Glancing over at the clock on the wall, Mitchell quickly realized it was getting late. He grabbed his towel and got dressed quickly. As he headed out to his car, he had the sudden urge to look

her

up. He took out his phone as he sat in the driver seat, waiting for the heat to warm the cold car up. Quickly scrolling through his Facebook feed, searched in vain for

her

profile, but could not find it in any searches. Then he remembered that he was still friends on Facebook with

her

mother. So, after several clicks and scrolls through

her

mother's profile, he still could not find

her.

"Ah, shit" he said as he saw the clock again, he was going to be late for work if Wayne wasn't ready when he pulled up today.

Fortunately, Wayne was waiting on the porch when Mitchell pulled up. The two had been working together for years, carpooling every day since. While Wayne was easily one of Mitchell's best friends, he was Catrina's little brother, therefore venting to him about their relationship...was not a risk Mitchell was willing to take.

On the drive to work, Mitchell's mind wandered again to memories of

her

. She had the bluest eyes he had ever seen. Deep pools of blue and gray that lured him in like a sailor to a siren.

Her

hair was a dark intense auburn, deep brown and red, copper strands that shine in the sun.

"Can't stop thinkin' 'bout 'er, huh?" Wayne asked, breaking the silence and Mitchell's trance.

Mitchell felt a lump in his throat that he struggled against as he gave Wayne an incredulous look. He couldn't possibly know that Mitchell was lost in thought about

her

. He didn't even know about

her,

she was a well kept secret and he certainly wouldn't talk about

her

with Catrina's brother.

Wayne, sensing Mitchell's confusion, laughed and said, "...the car we drove by yesterday? That gorgeous lil cherry number on 55 parked outside the u-haul? Ya ever call an ask how much they want for 'er?"

A wave of relief washed over Mitchell and he shook his head, "Nah, y'know Cat would never let me have 'er." For a second, Mitchell wasn't sure if he meant that car or

her

, either one fit.

When the pair arrived at the office, they were given the days tasks and headed back on the road with the crew. They arrived at a house, the front yard freshly dug up , preparing for fresh sod to be laid by a landscaping crew. The homeowner, a petite young Barbie all dolled up, was frantic when they arrived, there seemed to be some confusion as she argued on the phone and waved the crew inside. A tiny puff ball of a Pomeranian under one of her frail arms.

"I'm sorry, there was a scheduling mishap on my end. But don't you worry, my designer said she is on her way and she will get y'all squared away. In the mean time I'll show you 'round the house to the rooms y'all gonna be workin' on."

She led the men around the house haphazardly, waving them from room to room. With each flick of her wrist it became obvious that she was flamboyantly flashing about the giant rock size ring on her finger. She couldn't have been more than 25 years old, fresh spray tanned body, perfectly perky breasts which were obviously fake and far too large for her tiny frame. Already dropped that her husband is a doctor, in several less than subtle ways, leading Mitchell to come to one conclusion...she was a trophy wife.

Her attitude was unbecoming, but not at all surprising. Each of the men on the crew seemed eager for her to leave so they could get started, although none complained about the view when she wiggled her tiny but round ass before them as she glided from room to room. When she pulled her phone from her pocket as it buzzed, "oh thank Christ!" she said as she scurried herself and the crew back to the kitchen.

Mitchell could barely see through the crowd of his crew, not that he minded, he was just eager to get to work and keep his hands busy. Maybe the busy work would keep his mind from wandering as much, or so he hoped. He could still hear the tiny trophy wife's voice echoing off the walls in the unfurnished house as she began berating the designer for being less than punctual.

"Well, there she is! I appreciate you taking your time this mornin', as I'm sure these gentlemen here just been more than happy to sit around and get paid to stand 'ere lookin...pretty" she sassed.

"I apologize for the confusion and my tardiness. I'm here now, Tiffany why don't you take Prudence and go enjoy your day, I will take it from here. And don't you worry, I'll make sure everything is as beautiful as you are" said a new voice, one Mitchell could only assume to be the designer.

But something about the new voice in the room caught Mitchell's attention. There was a familiarity to her voice that took Mitchell by surprise and before he knew it, he was pushing his way through the crowded gathering of crew members standing around the kitchen island as the designer began discussing the plans for them to work on. When he finally broke through and saw her, he felt a lump in his throat, his heart pounded in his chest and his ears began to ring.

There she stood, completely focused on the plans laid out before her on the countertop. Her long wavy hair, a dark and vibrant amber with gold and copper flecks throughout as the light hit. Rose gold framed glasses sat on her nose, makeup done so that she looked fresh faced, but not too obviously done up. Golden brown shades colored the lids of her eyes, which only made the glaciers in her eyes all the more prominent. To anyone else, her eyes would look cold and unkind, but Mitchell knew better. He knew that the hottest fires burned blue.

The moment she finally gazed up and their eyes met, he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it was

her

. He stood there staring, mouth agate, his head rampant with unanswered questions. How did she get here? What was she doing here? Is this real life or was he still asleep? Then, as if to answer his unasked question, she gave him a subtle wink and continued on with the plans and instructions for the crew.

"...now if any of y'all need me for anything, I'll be around and working on several projects so just holler my name, Andrea or Andy, I'll answer to either" she said with a smile as she pulled her hair up and into a claw clip and began shrugging out of her jacket.

Looking around the room, Mitchell caught several of his colleagues staring and noticing

her

. None of them knew who she was, nor that she even knew Mitchell. She was a professional and gave nothing away. For that, Mitchell was relieved, grateful even. It wasn't until she was completely gone from the room that Mitchell felt himself release the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding in.

"Damn! She even brought us all coffee and donuts. Hoo, I like that one there, I tell you what!" Wayne said enthusiastically, freeing Mitchell from his thoughts.

"Of course she did" Mitchell thought to himself. Andrea never showed up anywhere empty handed, especially if someone was doing work for her.

Fighting the urge to follow

her

into the other room, Mitchell got to work. He and the crew spent majority of the morning ripping up the linoleum in the kitchen and the carpet in the dining room off the kitchen. Both rooms would be receiving the same new flooring so, the two rooms needed to be stripped and prepped together.

Mitchell couldn't help but glance around every so often, hoping to catch a glimpse of her again. Last he knew, Andrea didn't even live in the same state, nevermind work in the same town. As many questions as he had and wanted answers to, he struggled more with his desire to run into the next room and take her in his arms and kiss her finally.

"Aye, Whamaek, go ask Miss Andy if she needs us to salvage any of these materials or just scrap em?" Jay, the head of their crew, called out to Mitchell by last name. Mitchell did not appreciate the perverse tone Jay used when referring to Andrea. He was use to the way the guys talked about other women, but not about

her.

She was off limits, she has

his.

He swallowed the growl he felt building in his throat, instead choosing to focus on the opportunity to go speak to her. Beads of sweat formed on his palms before he even got to her, his cheeks warming as his hands began to tremble. He shook his hands to try to regain some composure, but as soon as he spotted her down another hallway, any composure he gained went right out the window.

Andrea stood with her back to him, now wearing paint splattered overalls and a sports bra. He could see her full sleeve tattoo in all it's beautiful watercolor detail cascading up her right arm from wrist to shoulder with the design flirtatiously trailing up her collar bone and lower neck. Curly tendrils slipping out of her clipped up hair, trailing down her neck. It took every ounce of strength he had not to come up behind her and bury his face into the nape of her neck. As his gaze trailed down to her voluminous ass, the likes of which would be hidden by most overalls, but somehow her ass managed to still look amazing enough to take a bite out of. Mitchell felt his cock pressing against his jeans as he shifted on his feet uncomfortably.

She was painting a mural inside an arched inlay inside the hallway wall. It didn't look like much yet, but he knew her skilled hand with a paint brush and he knew she would make something masterful out of it. He waited until her brush came away from the wall again so as not to startle her and ruin her work. Seizing his opportunity, he cleared his throat.

"Ahem, Ms. Andy?" he said, cautiously playing with her name on his tongue. It felt good to say

her

name, but it felt wrong at the same time. It had been a forbidden taboo for the last few years now and he didn't realize just how much he missed it, how much he missed

her.

She pulled a bud from her ear and turned her attention to him. Instant recognition washed over her face and she couldn't help but smile slightly at him, "yea?"

He wondered how she could be this calm? This coy? Was she messing with him? Mitchell could feel himself becoming angry so he made his point quickly "Jay wants to know if you need us to salvage these materials or scrap them?"

Andrea pulled the other bud from her ear to give him her full attention and looked at him apologetically, as if she could sense his building anger and tension, "yes, please salvage whatever you can. I have arranged to donate any materials leftover at the end of this to Habitat for Humanity so, anything that can be saved please..."

Mitchell couldn't help but warm to her, knowing full well that she probably struggled to convince the trophy wife to donate anything. Before he could fully turn to walk away, she reached out and grabbed his forearm softly to stop him. Feeling her tug him back, he turned into her abruptly, pushing his other hand against the unpainted wall behind her. Now pinned between Mitchell, her back pressing against the wall, she could feel his tension and started to worry she made a mistake.

Looking down at her, seeing her eyes dart downward submissively, his cock pressed firmly against his jeans and pointed directly at it's intended target. A part of him felt awful, seeing her fear him in that moment, but a deeper, more carnal part of him was even more turned on by it.

"What are you doin' here, Andrea?" he growled quietly, glancing over his shoulder to make sure no one was nearby.

Her shoulders shrunk slightly inward, as if to shield herself, and she chewed on her lip before muttering out, "...I...I'm working. No, I didn't plan for this. Yes, I hoped for it. We moved out here 4 months after we stopped talking, for his job. He had another affair, we got divorced, I started this business to make ends meet."

Her voice began to shake nearer the end of her explanation and he knew she meant every word. A sigh escaped his lips, taking in her words. As he inhaled, the sweet ambrosia of her hair, that smelled of spiced honey and lavender, surrounded him. Her bosom heaving rapidly, nervously beneath him. When the delicious hint of her pheromones and her sex reached him, he was ready to mount her right there in the hallway.

"...p.please don't be mad at me, Mitch...I can leave if you want, I can come back when you're done for the day and work then..." she said looking up at him finally.

Tears pooled in her eyes, threatening to spill over. Mitchell couldn't bare it any longer, took her face in his hands, momentarily ignoring her flinch in fear and kissed her. Andrea relaxed into him, her lips parting slightly, going only as far as he wanted. He had been waiting almost two decades to get the chance to kiss her again. It was everything he hoped for and it took all of his strength to pull away and let her go again. Pressing his forehead against hers and shaking his head gently.

"Don't you dare leave. I'm not mad" he said quietly, pushing himself away from her and walking back toward the crew before they questioned his absence.

As he went back to work, he licked his lips and could still taste her lips on his. She tasted sweet like honeysuckle with the faintest hint of salt. The redolence of her hair combined with her pheromones still lingered in his nose and he held onto it as long as possible. Not wanting to let

her

go yet.

The rest of his work day seemed to move quicker than ever to Mitchell. He couldn't believe she was here after all this time. He kept finding himself stealing moments away to look for her, making sure she was still there. Seeing her deeply focused on her mural, but still catching moments of her pausing, as she thought no one was looking or would notice, wiping the corner of her eye quickly as if to ward off a stray tear. Another time he saw her touch her thumb to her lip as she looked deep in the memory of their heated kiss from earlier.

Mitchell wanted desperately to pin her to the wall and kiss her again, to taste the honeysuckle of her lips on his. His thoughts filled with possibility and he was thrilled, the anticipation breeding new found excitement and lust inside him. The guilt he was riddled with all morning for merely thinking about

her

seemed to disappear the moment he saw her again.

As the work day came to an end, Mitchell was all too quick to volunteer to stay and clean up. Jay offered Wayne a ride home, further freeing Mitchell of his obligations to leave instead. They still had several days worth of work to complete, but he planned to seize every moment he could and when the last crew members taillights disappeared down the driveway, Mitchell put the broom against the wall and made his way to the hallway that Andy was painting in...