This is a continuation of my first two stories, so this would be Chapter 03
One day, about six-months into our affair, my older lover Henry asked me for something very unfair, "Let's take a trip together," he suggested.
He asked me that because we had been spending less and less time together. At the time, I was afraid my husband was starting to get suspicious. Nothing ever came of my worrying, but I remember being very apprehensive about sneaking away to see Henry.
Once, in his room, Henry had buried himself deep inside me - inch-by-inch contaminating me - and after we finished, I rolled off the bed and instinctively went to open a window to get the smell of sex out of the room. I slightly slid the drapes and immediately dropped to the floor when I caught a peek outside. I thought I had seen my husband down at the sidewalk looking up at the window. My world ended.
"What?" Henry asked me and went to look at the window. He saw that it wasn't my husband, just someone that barely looked like him. I confirmed it myself, but instances like those had become part of my life. And I didn't like it. So I thought Henry was being very insensitive asking me to go away with him, and I told him that with a lot of harsh words.
I didn't speak to him for many days.
During this time apart, one of my co-workers came up to me and informed me about a trip to Atlantic City. The hospital had made most of the nurses get some certification a few years before I arrived. My co-worker had asked me if I had the certification. If I did, then I could get in a free trip to Atlantic City, paid by the hospital, where a workshop was taking place for all those who had that certification. She and many others were more interested in a free trip than the actual workshop. I wasn't certified, but she handed me an information sheet anyway.
It wasn't until a few hours later, on my way home, that I realized I had found a perfect excuse that would allow me to get away with Henry.
I thought about what a few days away with Henry would be like. I pictured going-off some place, didn't really matter where, and simply walking around with Henry out in the open. Maybe even holding hands.Getting to spend nights with him. Whole nights. Saying things like "Good night," and "Good morning." Not having to rush while changing. Not having to cancel last minute plans. And, obviously, I thought about all the exhausting pleasure. It sounded amazing.
I was still mad at Henry then, so I didn't call him right away about this opportunity. But one afternoon I couldn't wait anymore, I had to cash that lottery ticket I had been handed. Before checking with Henry if he could even get away or not, I casually told my husband about Atlantic City. I handed him the information sheet so he could see when and where it was. I didn't think he would care to read the entire thing.
He didn't.
My husband didn't see a problem with any of it. He was more worried about me losing money at the casinos. He told me right away that I was a terrible gambler, but that I should knock myself out anyway. When I got a free chance later, I called Henry and we talked about it.
After making up over the phone, Henry asked me for details. When? How many days? And if we could do it, where did I want to go?
I told him the girls were leaving Friday night in a few weeks then, and getting back the following Monday morning. So I had to be back by then, and that, "I don't really care where we go," but obviously not Atlantic City since there was a chance we could be running into my friends walking around town.
He stayed quiet for a little while, I could practically hear him thinking, and then he came back with, "I have a friend with a house in upstate. He was renting it out to a couple of goofs, but he kicked them out a while back ago. I doubt he's already rented it out, he asks for a lot of money."
"Did you tell him about us?" I asked him, worried that he might have.
"No, no," Henry said. "He won't be there, like I said. He rents it out and I doubt someone took it already. I'll check. I'm sure if I ask him that he'll let met stay there. But, now that I think about it, I'm not sure if it's furnished or not anymor. I'll check that too. Listen, we could just go somewhere else. Fly, maybe, to Florida? I'm just talking aloud here, where do you want to go?"
"No, no," I said. It didn't sound practical flying anywhere either. A picture came in my mind of me missing a flight and getting stuck someplace without being able to get home. "Your friend's house sounds nice," I said.
Henry called me back an hour or so later and told me that his friend's house had not been rented, we could stay there if I wanted to, but that it was not furnished.
I told him yes and he promised to go up there beforehand and buy a few things to put around the house. He especially mentioned a bed.
We still had a few weeks before our trip and plenty of time to plan. And worry. I kept getting nervous thoughts. I worried about my husband running into someone from the hospital and asking them about Atlantic City. I knew the chances of that happening would be small. I couldn't picture my husband walking up to anyone he didn't know very well and asking them questions. He wasn't that type of person, but I was nervous. So the thoughts came anyway.
Henry, on the other hand, was calm.
He came up with all these plans and back-up plans for our trip. Like if my husband wanted to drop me off at the bus stop - where my co-workers were supposed to board the bus for Atlantic City- what would I do?
"Just get on the bus and drive away with everyone," Henry had planned. "Wait ten minutes and tell the driver you changed your mind and want to get off. You're sick. I'll follow the bus and pick you up at the side of the road."
"They'll think that's odd," I said. "I don't want to do that."
Henry frowned and said, "Then I'll pick you up in Atlantic City." He was anxious about wanting this thing to happen. I was too, but at time it felt like maybe it wasn't worth it. I spent one day thinking about calling the whole thing off, and the next all excited about going.
Then the night finally came. It was a Friday after work. Around seven-ish and getting dark outside. Cold.
I slowly packed a bag in my bedroom. When I was done, I went downstairs to say goodbye to my husband and daughter. They were both watching television on the sofa. My daughter kissed me on the cheek and my husband patted me on the butt to say goodbye. I stared at them with a bag in my hand, afraid my husband was going to ask who was picking me up again. I had told him before that I would call a taxi to take me to the bus stop, but I was so nervous that, at the time, I thought he looked at me oddly. He didn't. But I was expecting him to get up and put his shoes on and drive me to the bus stop.
But nothing happened.
One minute I was saying goodbye to my family, and the next I had heard three consecutive honks outside my house. It was the taxi. I said goodbye again and left out the door with my suitcase. My husband just said to have fun as I went out the door.
The driver asked me where I wanted to go and I gave him the address to a parking lot about twenty-minutes away. I kept looking back at the taxi's rear window to see if I was being followed. I had been so silly. When I got to the parking lot, I picked out Henry's car right away at a corner space. He drove a black Sedan. Four doors. He was smiling through he window.
"Did he say anything?" Henry asked me as soon as I opened his passenger door, "I thought you might call me and tell me I have to pick you up in Atlantic City." He laughed.
"I was too," I told him and we kissed. I felt Henry's warm grasp on my chest as he slid his hands over my sweater, groping me inside his car. Giving me tongue. Getting glimpses of his face as we held-on with trembling mouths. He lifted the bottom of my sweater, tucked his entire head under and moved my bra down to lick my breasts. Shutting his lips around them and wetting my nipples with his drool.
"Henry," I moaned until his perversions forced me to press my right check against the passenger window and I remembered where we were.I was staring right at other cars.
"Stop," I moaned at him. "Stop, there's cars." He took a few finals slurps and popped back out from under my clothes. He turned on the car with one hand, put the other one at my knee and we drove away.
Henry told me the drive to his friend's house would take less than four hours. We made it in about six-and-a-half because about halfway there, we stopped at a motel and checked ourselves in at a pay-by-hour place by the highway. A single story building with block of rooms. Cheap, but clean. The woman at the reception desk looked at me oddly as I walked-in with Henry.
I had been wearing a conservative black sweater with tight denim jeans and black suede shoes. But she stared me down as if I had been naked. She was around my age. Taller and self-righteous looking. I think she thought I was a pro by the way she slid the keys towards me on the counter, like she didn't want to touch me. Like I was dirty.
Henry was old enough to be my father, and I had turned thirty-four a few months earlier then. Henry was tall and trim, but he couldn't hide his hoariness. White hair. Slightly-drooping face. Spotty hands. I was fully aware of it all before, but I never had to deal with that before since we had always been alone. I thought I could handle it, but the way that woman had looked at me doubled those feelings.
It didn't matter though, at least for that small while, because we were in and out of her gaze quickly and I put it out of my head.
