Hurriedly, I finished up the last of my work for the day, eager to get home. The twenty minute commute seemed to take an hour, row after row of three bedroom two bath brick and vinyl ranch style homes, and then finally the driveway to my own quarter acre paradise. I flung open the door, greeted by my loving brood. Ross and Janie were stretched out on the floor in front of the TV, watching a game show and munching on chips. "Guys, homework, Now" I said snapping my fingers as I rushed past them and into the kitchen.
I could not believe my luck, in an hour or so; I would have the house to my self for the rest of the evening. My husband, realizing that I could not possibly sit through another pre-teen movie had agreed to take them this evening. Yes, it took begging. Yes, it took pleading. Yes, I would never hear the end of it, but it was all going to be worth it. I threw the chicken in the oven, dumped some frozen veggies in a pot of water and plotted my evening. I fondled the pack of cigarettes in my pocket gleefully, I hadn't smoked in my own home or around the kids in years, and tonight I was going to light up. First a long hot bath, then a cigarette and a glass of wine, and then, who knew.
I was roused from my planning by the buzz of the oven timer and the hum of the garage door opener. He was home, dinner was ready, and everything was going according to plan. I broke open the seal on the paper plates and tossed them on the table. Steaming barbeque chicken and California blend were served. After dinner, he looked at me, I could see the fear in his eyes. Kissing me on the cheek as he gathered up the kids, "Wish me luck," he mouthed as I pushed them out the door. I locked it and waved at them through the window as they left. I knew he secretly hoped that I would change my mind, take pity on him and accompany them, but I needed this time, mom's night in.
I popped in a jazz CD and ran my bath water, the white bubbles rose high in the tub. I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror as I undressed. Although middle age was fast approaching, I admired my form. The breasts jiggled; cupping them I held them up, hefting them to their position of prior glory. Sliding my hands down my stomach, I traced the outlines of stretch marks. Turning around, I laughed, my boobs were heading south and my butt east and west, I had to laugh or I'd cry. I posed in my sexiest position, "Hey baby, got a light?" I lit my cigarette off one of the myriad scented candles that surrounded the tub. Gingerly, I eased myself in to the steaming hot water.
I sat back, tracing circles in the fading bubbles; I just let my mind wander. Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was the forbidden cigarette, maybe it was just the fact that for the first time in months, I had an evening alone, but I was feeling pretty good, and pretty frisky. I thought diabolical thoughts, hmmm. Yes, I had a plan. Hurriedly, I dried off, securing my robe; I raided the kitchen drawers finding a set of C cell batteries. I cackled as I tiptoed off to my bedroom. Searching under the bed, I found the long forgotten shoebox, brushing off a layer of dust bunnies, I opened it. Resting amidst an assortment of abandoned condoms, unnecessary since I was pregnant with Janie, there it was.
I felt sort of guilty, my husband was suffering through endless bubble gum snapping dialogue and I was about to give myself endless pleasure. I slid the batteries down the long shaft, it rattled to life. Recently, between overtime, the kids, housework, and family commitments, there was barely time for sex, let alone using a long forgotten toy. Eagerly, I hopped up on the bed; I had at least an hour left, plenty of time. I trembled nervously, what if they came home early? "Not to worry," I told myself, the doors were locked, and I would have plenty of notice. I untied the belt of my robe, laying back; I massaged my nipples, chills running down my spine as they hardened beneath my fingertips.
