Carrie and Tom had been married only a few years. During the housing boom, they'd borrowed heavily to purchase their own small house in a suburban middle-class neighborhood. Ever since, money had been tight and the couple worked hard to make ends meet. Occasionally, they found themselves short at the end of the month, and sold possessions to make up for it. Carrie's diamond engagement ring got them through a rough spot. Tom's fishing poles and tackle made up for a bounced check to the grocery store. They debated giving up Carrie's old car, which ran poorly and required parts they couldn't afford to buy.
Tom left the house every morning at 6am for his job as a package delivery driver. He put on his brown work clothes and kissed his pretty wife goodbye. No matter how hopeless their financial situation, he gave thanks every day for her. She was too good for him, and he knew it. When he looked in the mirror, he saw a man with an average height and an over-achieving hairline. What he lacked in hair, he made up for in waistline. Carrie joked that he was her teddy bear, but he knew that his wife was really referring to his expanding girth.
She, however, seemed to grow more radiant and lovely with each passing day. Her hourglass figure was heavenly. From her beautiful, full breasts, to her narrow and taut waist, to the sensuous curves of her hips, Carrie was a natural beauty.
While he went to work, she stayed home and added to the family income through a home-based graphic design business. Her client list was short, and in the long stretches of time between assignments, Carrie maintained her own website. She posted pictures of herself and, under a pseudonym, kept a journal of her most intimate fantasies. Tom barely understood how she made money through her graphic artwork; he had no idea that she also amused herself with the secret online journal.
Jake was a fan, though. He'd been reading Carrie for as long as she'd written down her web address on a cocktail napkin that she'd surreptitiously passed to him at a club. Maybe the two glasses of wine had loosened her inhibitions that night. She'd looked past her husband, uncomfortable in his own skin, and locked eyes with a tall, muscular stranger across the room. Carrie imagined him reading her journal and her clit tingled at the thought.
She wrote about Jake in her journal the very next day. She wrote about what she thought when she saw him for the first time, what she wanted to do to him, and how often she'd cum masturbating to his image. For the next week, Jake was the star of her show.
After getting the web address from the hot blonde in the bar, Jake was intrigued. Usually women just passed him their phone numbers. More than a few, he'd taken and tossed at his earliest convenience. A web address was a bit different. He visited, half expecting some pay-for-porn site to pop up. What he found – the pictures and the fantasy journal – stiffened him immediately. He was addicted and was soon thinking about Carrie as often as she was apparently thinking about him.
"i want to meet u irl," he wrote in a comment on her journal, including his email address. Less than an hour later, she replied with her cell number and a date was set.
Tom left work, as usual, at 6am. Carrie watched him drive away and readied herself for her visitor. She pondered greeting the man with nothing on but high heels and a smile, but decided she didn't want to be at a disadvantage. Surely he would be wearing clothes, why should she have all the fun stripping him? Carrie put on a skirt – no panties – and a button-down blouse that hugged her curves and accented her breasts.
At 9am, Jake arrived. She beckoned him inside and, without a word, began to kiss him deeply. Their tongues danced together as his hands moved up and down her tight body, feeling her curves. He pressed into her and reached around, lifting her buttocks while she wrapped her legs around his waist. Jake whispered into her ear, "Nice to meet you."
