A new horizon

A sense of quiet relief settled over me as I returned to the office. My recent sporadic appearances had gone unremarked, a testament to Tara's discreet management of the situation. She had, I understood, alluded to a period of intense personal stress and health concerns, effectively shielding me from undue scrutiny. The "Randy Debacle," as I privately termed it, remained my burden alone, a messy affair best kept from the team.

Janice from accounting, ever the boisterous one, greeted my arrival with a wide grin. "Well, look who finally decided to grace us with her presence!" she boomed, though the sentiment was more jovial than accusatory. The others offered warm smiles, their gazes acknowledging my return, maintaining a comfortable distance yet conveying a genuine welcome.

My eyes found Tara's, and she offered a subtle, reassuring nod. She was the one person in this professional sphere I trusted fully and completely. While she understood the broad strokes of my recent turmoil, she wisely refrained from probing the intricate, painful details. Her support was a silent, watchful presence, a quiet strength I deeply appreciated.

Later, Tara followed me into the sanctuary of my office. "You're smiling," she observed, her voice soft, almost a whisper.

A genuine laugh escaped me. "What can I say? I'm in a good mood."

Her knowing gaze met mine. "I'm guessing Dominic has something to do with that."

My smile widened, an undeniable admission. "You're absolutely right."

She pulled up a chair, leaning forward, her curiosity palpable. "So, spill the tea."

I exhaled, settling back into my own seat. "We met years ago, when a friend practically dragged me to Dom’s restaurant's grand opening. What struck me was that Dom remembered everything months later when I returned — my order, my name; even what I wore. We started texting casually at first. Then, after the whole Randy situation imploded, he was just there. Quiet, patient and unwavering. It evolved into something far more profound than I ever anticipated."

Tara's lips curved into a smile, though a flicker of something — perhaps curiosity, perhaps a lingering caution — danced in her eyes. "I won't lie," she confessed, "I still harbor a bit of resentment towards him for divorcing my aunt." Tara, though still holding a flicker of past anger, watched him with a newfound fairness. The truth of her aunt's betrayals had, thankfully, softened her stance. With no children involved, the echoes of the past were gradually fading into a manageable quiet.

 

"I know," I acknowledged, "but you did tell me she was unfaithful."

"Yeah," Tara murmured, the word heavy with past pain. "It was a rough time for all of us. But I'm genuinely glad you two connected."

Before I could respond, a gentle knock preceded Dom's entrance. He stood framed in the doorway, casually dressed in sweatpants and a polo shirt, exuding that familiar, effortless confidence.

"Hey, Uncle Dom!" Tara exclaimed, rising quickly, a wide grin spreading across her face.

He returned her smile. "Morning, trouble."

Then he looked at me, a silent question in his eyes. "I figured you'd want to see me."

"You know me too well," I replied, a soft smile playing on my lips. "Did you bring coffee?"

He chuckled, holding up a cup. "Of course. Your usual."

Tara shot me a look. "You really can't get enough of him, huh?"

Dom laughed, a warm, resonant sound. "She's mine." He winked at me. "And I wouldn't have it any other way."

I rolled my eyes playfully. "Such a charmer."

A shared, comfortable laughter filled the room, dissipating any lingering tension.

That evening, after work, I found solace at Dom's apartment. The aroma of garlic and soy from our chicken and beef fried rice permeated the kitchen, a warm and inviting scent. We savored the meal with a couple of bottles of wine, the conversation flowing easily between us.

"This is exactly what I needed," I confessed, leaning back in my chair.

Dom reached across the table, taking my hand. "Me too. Long day?"

"Always," I sighed, "but it's better when I know I'm coming here."

He squeezed my hand. "Good. Because I'm not letting you go anywhere tonight."

After dinner, we moved through the familiar ritual of cleaning up, then ascended to the quiet intimacy of his bedroom. What followed was a raw, passionate communion — fierce yet tender, uninhibited yet deeply connected. His hands explored every curve, every inch of my body, his kisses demanding but laced with an undeniable tenderness. He undressed me slowly, deliberately, savoring each moment, then with a single, powerful thrust, he pushed his dick into my waiting pussy. A gasp escaped my lips as his hips began to move with a primal rhythm that ignited a fire within me, and I wrapped my legs around him, pulling him closer, deeper.

We climaxed repeatedly, our bodies a symphony of collision and union, waves of heat and pleasure washing over us. The sounds we made — moans, gasps, whispered names — filled the room and became our private language.

When we finally collapsed together, spent, Dom whispered, "I'm not going anywhere."

"Promise?" I murmured, tracing patterns on his chest.

"Always," he affirmed, pulling me closer. "You're stuck with me."

I smiled, feeling utterly content. "Good."

In the days that followed, Dom's visits to the office were brief, almost imperceptible. He'd drop off coffee, exchange a few quiet words, then disappear.

One morning, Dom handed me a coffee, smiling that crooked smile of his. I whispered, "You're trouble."

He chuckled softly. "Only the best kind." He leaned in to kiss me. "Missed you already."

"It's only been a few hours," I teased, but my heart fluttered.

"Too long," he countered, his eyes twinkling. "See you tonight?"

"You know it," I confirmed, a warmth spreading through me.

With Dom by my side, the lingering chaos of the "Randy Debacle" began to recede, transforming into something I could finally breathe through, a manageable shadow against the dawn of a new, brighter chapter.

 

The charger and the truth

I made it to work okay, which wasn’t exactly newsworthy, except apparently it was—at least to Tara. She looked up from her desk the second I walked in and blinked like I’d just risen from the dead.

“You’re here,” she said.

“I am.” I placed my bag down and gave her a half-smile.

“I mean, you’re actually here. In the office. Upright. Breathing.”

“Good morning to you too.”

She stared. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.”

She didn’t believe me. She was the only one in the office who knew the full extent of the mess I’d been crawling through the past few months—me and Randy, me and Sarah, Sarah and Randy, both of them and me. The web was thick and tangled and exhausting, and she’d been the one person who hadn’t pried but still noticed everything. And yet, she’s the only one in the office that I fully trusted.

Now, as I moved past her and into my personal office, I caught the way her eyes followed me. She looked surprised. But more than that—curious.

“You’re smiling,” she said, getting up and trailing behind me.

“Maybe I’m just in a good mood.”

“You haven’t been in a good mood in wees,” she said. “What happened?”

I opened the door to my office and let her follow me in. “Nothing.”

Her eyes lit up. “Oh my God. It’s my Uncle Dominic.”

I didn’t say anything, just headed toward my desk. That was all the confirmation she needed.

“He spent the night, didn’t he?” she said, dropping onto the arm of the couch in the corner like she was settling in for story time.

“You’re impossible,” I said, smiling despite myself.

“Tell me everything.”

I dropped into my chair. “We met a couple of years ago when a friend dragged me to Dom’s restaurant - back when it was still kind of a secret spot and not how packed it is now. I hadn’t visited for a bit and when I did about ten years ago, Dom remembered my ordered and remembered what I wore – he even remembered my name. We started texting and eventually, that turned into something steadier. We became friends. He just… showed up when I needed him to.”

Tara crossed her legs and sipped her coffee like this was the best thing that had happened to her all morning. “So what changed?”

“Everything fell apart with Randy. Dom was there; you know how he is…..quiet, patient and kind. I didn’t expect it to turn into anything physical, not really. But then it did.”

“You have that glow,” she said. “You have that glow like people do when they’re truly in love…you didn’t have this glow with Randy but you were close to having it with Vic and Vince.”

I gave her a look, but she just grinned.

She let out a laugh and stood. “Okay. I’ll leave you alone. For now.” She reached for the doorknob but paused. “I’m really happy for you.”

I nodded, trying not to show how much that meant.

The door closed softly behind her, and I sat back in my chair. My whole body was sore in a way that made me grin. A fifth round of sex later, and here I was pretending to do work while my brain replayed every last second of him.

Dominic’s voice….his mouth. The things he whispered into my ear while he moved inside me.

I bit the inside of my cheek and forced myself to open my inbox.

Ten minutes later, a knock broke me out of my work mode.

Before I could say anything, the door opened.

Dominic.

Black polo. Grey sweatpants. That same quiet confidence that had followed him out of my bed and now somehow walked straight into my office.

He gave me a crooked smile. “You left your charger in my car.”

I blinked. “You drove all the way here for a charger?”

“No. I came here because I wanted to see you in your element….and because I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

I stood, not even trying to play it cool. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Only for you.”

He walked toward me slow and deliberate. I met him halfway.

Behind him, I saw Tara through the glass, pretending to organize a stack of papers she’d already filed last week. She looked up, caught my eye, and gave me a thumbs-up before disappearing into the back.

Dominic leaned in. “I’ll see you tonight?”

“You’d better,” I said, brushing my fingers over the side of his jaw.

He kissed my forehead, pressed the charger into my hand, and turned to go.

As the door shut behind him, I leaned against it for a second and smiled.

I was definitely in a good mood.

 

Where the fire breaks

The driver didn’t say much on the way to my house. He must’ve sensed the storm brewing behind my silence. Randy called—once, then again, then again. I declined each call, each one stoking the fire in my chest, until I finally blocked his number altogether.

Instead, I called Sarah. This time, it wasn’t for answers but for appreciation.

"Hey," I said once she picked up. "I just wanted to say thank you for being honest."

"Of course," she replied.

"And I blocked Randy."

"Oh." A beat. "Thanks for letting me know. Are you mad at me?"

"I'm not as mad at you as I am with him, but yeah... I'm angry. You should’ve told me sooner. He played both of us, Sarah. That kind of thing doesn’t get brushed off.”

She let out a strained sigh. “I’ll sit down with him and we’ll have a conversation about this.”

"You do what you need to do," I said. "Just leave me out of it."

She gave a short, awkward laugh. “Alright. I will.”

And with that, the call ended.

The driver gave me a sideways glance out of the corner of his eye, one brow arched in subtle curiosity. I met his look flatly. “You don’t want to know.”

He chuckled. “Okay.”

When we pulled up to my house, I tipped him extra through the app. Safe. Discreet. Nonjudgmental. He deserved every penny.

I was in the middle of a hot shower when my phone buzzed with a message from Dom. I dried one hand and swiped open the screen.

Dom: Hey, I’m a few minutes out. Gonna make a quick stop at the liquor store and grocery first.

Me: Ok. See you soon.

I finished rinsing off and wrapped myself in towels—one around my body, one wrapped around my hair. I was halfway down the stairs when the doorbell rang. I opened the door to find Dom standing there with a handful of grocery bags and my house key dangling from his fingers.

“Well, look who’s here,” he said with a grin. “And looking gorgeous.”

“Hey yourself,” I said, stepping aside to let him in.

He moved straight toward the kitchen as I eyed the key in his hand.

“How did you get that?”

“Some guy outside—Andy? Randy? He said he was gonna leave it under your doormat. I figured I’d save you the trouble.”

Relief surged through me. Thank God Dom had run into him and not me. My mouth and my attitude would’ve turned that interaction nuclear. Dom, on the other hand, handled it like it meant nothing but I could see the unasked question in his eyes.

“Who’s this Andy/Randy?” he asked finally, lifting the key one more time before setting it beside the coffee machine.

“Just a guy I dated casually,” I said evenly. “It’s been over for a while.”

That was enough. Dom didn’t push.

I went back upstairs, brushed out my damp hair, and slipped into an oversized shirt—no bra, no panties. The towels would’ve gotten in the way, and I wasn’t trying to pretend anymore.

When I came back down, we unpacked groceries together. He’d picked up deli meats, cheese, Greek yogurt, steaks, burgers, hot dogs, and three bottles of wine. Everything went into the fridge or pantry in companionable silence.

Then, as I closed the fridge, he leaned in and kissed me.

Soft at first—then deeper. Hungrier. I moaned into his mouth as I felt his hard dick pressing insistently through his shorts.

He didn’t even ask. He just picked me up with both hands, carried me the few steps over to the kitchen counter, and sat me down on it like I weighed nothing.

“I want you,” he murmured, eyes blazing. “But I need to know you want this too.”

“Yes,” I whispered, barely able to breathe.

“I don’t see you as a fling,” he said. “This isn’t just sex for me.”

“I want to date you,” I told him.

He gave a crooked, relieved smile. “I was hoping you’d say that as I want to date you as well.”

Then, in one practiced motion, he unbuckled his belt, dropped his shorts and boxers, and gripped my thighs as I hiked my shirt up over my hips.

I spread my legs for him and he slid in—deep—with one hard, forceful thrust.

“Jesus,” I cried out, nails digging into his shoulders.

He groaned, eyes slamming shut. “Fucking hell—you’re so tight.”

“I don’t know how you fit,” I gasped, already breathless.

“You take me anyway,” he growled, beginning to move. “So fucking deep.”

He pounded into me like he couldn’t get close enough—hips slamming, skin meeting skin. My legs locked around him, dragging him closer with every thrust, while his dick filled me to the hilt again and again.

“You were made for me,” he groaned into my ear.

“Don’t stop,” I moaned. “Please...”

He didn’t need more encouragement. He held me down against the counter, his grip bruising, his pace relentless—thrust after thrust until I shattered around him, my orgasm tearing through me with a cry that bounced off the cabinets.

He growled my name and stayed inside me, grinding through the climax until we were both shaking.

I somehow managed to return to cooking. The kitchen smelled like garlic, lemon zest, and butter—heat curling up from the pan as I stirred the risotto, trying to remember how to function.

The music played low, rhythmic, and almost hypnotic. The vegetables were cut. Rice cooked perfectly. I'd done most of the work.

“You stir like you mean it,” Dom said, voice like warm smoke behind me.

“Everything about cooking is about feel,” I said, still stirring. “Timing. Pressure. Heat.”

“You describing risotto or yourself?”

“Um, both? I said as I scraped the spoon along the pan. “Twelve minutes left. You can cope.”

He laughed under his breath and stepped in closer, body heat pressing up against my back. One arm brushed my waist; the other reached for a broccolini spear.

“You been thinking about this since I left?” I teased.

He bit down on the vegetable. Didn’t blink. “Not this.”

He wasn’t talking about food.

“You think the counter’s strong enough for a second round?”

I turned, shooting him a look. “Dominic.”

“I’m asking because I care about infrastructure,” he murmured, already undoing the button on his jeans. “And because I’m about to fuck you into next week.”

“There’s food on the stove.”

“There’s you on the counter in my head—and you’re louder.”

He kissed me.

There was no hesitation, no slow build—just need. He gripped my hips, lifted me again, and shoved my shirt up with rough hands. My bare ass hit the counter and then he was inside me again—slow, thick, relentless.

“This is a bad idea,” I managed to whisper.

“This is the best fucking idea I’ve had all week,” he said, grinding deeper. “God, you feel unreal.”

“You’re already hard again?”

“Two days,” he gritted. “I’ve been hard since your first text.”

“I asked if you wanted asparagus.”

“You knew what that meant.”

He began to thrust—slow and deep, making me feel every inch. I clung to him, legs tight around his waist, my world shrinking to nothing but his body and mine.

“You’re so perfect like this,” he murmured. “So fucking perfect wrapped around me.”

“Then don’t stop,” I whispered.

“Say it louder.”

“Don’t stop. Don’t stop.”

“Say my name.”

“Dominic—please, Dominic.”

My second orgasm hit fast—violent, sharp, my nails clawing down his back as I screamed into his neck. He cursed, still thrusting through our climax, his own release building behind every punishing grind.

When he came, it was deep and thick, his entire body locking against mine.

He stayed inside me, both of us slick with sweat, panting into each other’s skin.

Eventually, he pulled out, arms still wrapped tight around my waist as I sagged into his chest.

He looked around the wrecked kitchen and laughed breathlessly. “We just committed culinary murder against dinner.”

“We did,” I panted. “We absolutely did.”

“I’d do it again.”

“You’re insane if you think I’m letting you off the hook for this.”

“We’ll fix it,” he said, kissing my cheek. “Promise.”

He helped me off the counter gently. My legs wobbled. My shirt was rumpled and soaked. The risotto was beyond saving.

“Wine?” I offered.

“Only if I’ve earned it,” he said, already grabbing a towel.

We cleaned up slowly, still half-naked, bumping into each other deliberately. I kissed his shoulder while rinsing a pan. He cupped my hip when reaching past me for the salt.

The music kept playing.

The mess disappeared.

And when we set the last glass to dry, he looked at me with that half-smile that never quite reached his eyes until he was sure I wanted him.

“Where to now, chef?”

I reached for his hand.

“My bedroom.”

He didn’t hesitate, not for a breath or a moment. Just followed.

In the dim light of the bedroom, I was bare and waiting. This time wasn’t hurried. He moved like it mattered—like every inch of me was something to savor. He sank into me with a sound between reverence and hunger.

“You keep looking at me like that,” I whispered, breath catching. “I’ll never sleep again.”

He kissed my cheek and murmured against my ear, “Good. I don’t plan on letting you.”

We stayed that way until the sweat cooled. Until our breathing evened. Until the sheets wrapped around us and the silence didn’t feel empty anymore.

And still, he didn’t let go.

We stayed that way until the sweat cooled. Until our breathing evened. Until the sheets wrapped around us and the silence didn’t feel empty anymore.
And still, he didn’t let go.

An hour later, and a fifth round of sex later, we finally ordered Chinese food.

When it arrived, we pulled ourselves out of bed—still flushed and a little unsteady—and padded downstairs together. Dom wore only his boxers, and I threw on a robe, the sash loose and barely tied. We met the delivery guy at the door, exchanged a few polite words neither of us would remember, then brought the bags into the living room.

We sprawled on the couch, boxes of food opened between us. Lo mein, dumplings, orange chicken, fried rice—it all hit the spot. Dom used chopsticks. I didn’t even bother. My stomach was loud enough to drown out the quiet music still playing somewhere in the kitchen.

Halfway through the meal, I looked at him and asked, “Will you stay the night?”

He didn’t even blink. “I wasn’t planning on leaving.”

After we finished eating, we cleaned up—slow, lazy movements, still brushing against each other on purpose. We kissed in the kitchen between stacking takeout containers. When everything was put away, we went right back upstairs.

And just like that, we started again.

We kept having sex, neither of us holding back. We climaxed often—sometimes separately, sometimes together—and each time, Dom came inside me, his body pressing into mine with all the intensity he hadn't let go of since the first time he touched me.

Eventually, exhaustion won. We fell asleep curled around each other, tangled in sheets that smelled like sweat, skin, and something too deep to name.

Only a couple hours later, I stirred awake. My body was sore, used, and humming.

I slipped out of bed quietly. Dom stayed asleep, stretched out on his stomach, the sheet low on his hips, his face half-buried in my pillow.

I showered quickly, dressed for work, and padded into the kitchen. I made a cup of coffee, ate a banana at the counter, and packed some of the leftover Chinese food for lunch.

Just before I left, I paused in the bedroom doorway, taking one last look at him.

Then I pulled out my phone and typed:

Me: Heading to work. I’ll be thinking about you while I’m there.

And I meant it. Every word.

 

Betrayal and reckoning

With Dominic gone, a quiet stillness settled over the house, a sharp contrast to the memorable night that had just unfolded. I made my way back upstairs to the bedroom, where the lingering presence of him still remained. I stripped the bed, tossing the used bedding into the washing machine, and then replaced it with fresh, clean linens, from the laundry I had taken care of a day earlier.

I took a hot shower, allowing the water to wash away the last traces of the night before. Feeling refreshed, I slipped into comfortable cotton loungewear. It was still early, so there was no need to rush my preparations for the weekend.

My task was to finalize my packing for the trip with Randy. I pulled out my toiletry bag, meticulously organizing my contact solution, spare contacts, toothbrush, toothpaste, mouthwash, hairbrush, shampoo, and conditioner. After that, I selected two casual outfits for daytime wear—one for Saturday and another for Sunday. Finally, I carefully chose the dressier outfits for Friday and Saturday evenings, placing them neatly in my suitcase.

With my bag packed, I carried it downstairs. I quickly checked on the laundry, transferring the bedding from the washer to the dryer. I made myself a light snack to satisfy my hunger as I hadn’t had breakfast. After eating, I changed out of my loungewear and into a pair of comfortable shorts and a nice low-cut top. Just as I finished getting dressed, my phone vibrated. I looked to see who it was and it was from Dom.

Dom: I had an amazing time with you last night, Deppgrl.

A soft smile touched my lips as I quickly typed my response.

Me: I did as well, Dom. We should do it again.

A few minutes later, my phone buzzed again with another text message; this time from Randy.

Randy: Hey, I'm going to be at your place around 1:15 PM.

Me: Ok.

I set my phone down, a mix of anticipation and a familiar sense of dread swirling within me. The weekend with Randy was about to begin.

Randy arrived around 1:15 PM, his usual confident smile in place. After a brief greeting, we loaded my bag and my purse into his car and set off for the cabin. The drive was filled with easy conversation, though an underlying tension hummed between us. As soon as we pulled up to the secluded cabin, nestled among tall trees, we unloaded his car and headed inside. As we toured the cabin, we noticed two bedrooms; I took the smaller one. Once I dropped my stuff off in the room and hung up my nicer outfits, I headed downstairs.

Randy wasted no time when I met him in the living room. He pulled me into a close embrace, his lips finding mine in a lingering kiss. I immediately pulled away, purposely putting space between us.

“What in the actual fuck, Randy?” I asked. “Starting off the bat by kissing me is not the way to start the weekend.”

“When we’ve gone away before, it was never an issue,” he said.

“That was because we were dating then,” I said. “You explicitly told me that you were trying to win me over. A physical relationship is important, but not when you’re trying to win a woman over… not a great way to start.”

I left the cabin and took a walk by the pond nearby. On the far side, I found a bench that was partly hidden under the trees. Thankfully to be partially hidden by the shade, I laid down to think about why I decided to join Randy. I still loved him and cared for him but I don’t trust him. If I can’t trust him to be around another woman and not flirt, why be here with him for the weekend? I would be questioning him nonstop and would eventually break up with him due to the lack of trust.

Dom on the other hand? I always knew and recognized that he is a very attractive man. He’s also a very solid person and friend… since last night, I wondered what a relationship would be like with him. I knew that he is an amazing person and our connection wouldn't be boring.

Soon after, I dozed off. I’m not sure how long I was asleep but Randy gently woke me up. I blinked a few times. Randy helped me off of the bench and we headed back to the cabin. On our travels back to the cabin, Randy apologized for being so forward and agreed that he needs to tone it down. I thanked him and I knew then that he wouldn’t be winning me over the weekend… not knocking Randy but he wasn’t a good fit for me… plus I still didn’t care much for Emma and Max even though the three of us have gotten to know each other better.

“What are we up to when we get back to the cabin?” I asked.

“A couples’ massage,” he said. “I booked the best of the best in the area.”

We arrived at the cabin a few minutes later. The room was dimly lit, bathed in an amber glow from flickering candles lining the shelves. The air was warm, heady with the scent of sandalwood and jasmine. Soft instrumental music drifted lazily through the space—just enough to blur the edges of thought. Two massage tables waited, side by side, covered in soft white sheets. A long, slow exhale seemed to hang between them.

We prepared for the massage in silence, aware of each other's presence. I stripped down to just my panties and Randy into his boxers. I slid beneath the sheet, the cool cotton brushing my thighs, my bare back exposed to the air. He did the same beside me, close enough that I could feel the warmth of his body, but not quite touching.

Two masseuses entered, speaking only in murmurs, letting their hands say the rest.

Warm oil dripped onto my back—a rivulet sliding down the curve of my spine before strong, practiced hands smoothed it in with deliberate slowness. Fingers spread, glided, kneaded. Palms pressed and dragged up the length of my back, rolling heat into every muscle. My body responded, melting, sighing, surrendering to the rhythm of relaxation.

I heard the soft groan from the table beside me as his own massage began. I dared a glance, saw the slow tension unraveling from his jaw, his lashes low. There’s something deeply comfortable in watching him simply relax. And he’s watching me too, now—watching my mouth part as hands rolled down to the small of my back, pushing, pressing, gently soothing.

The distance between our tables felt almost too close, fostering a sense of shared tranquility.

At some point, my masseuse slid to one side, lifting my arm, letting it fall across the edge of the table… until my fingertips dangled down and brushed his. A spark. Contact. Our hands found each other beneath the veil of sheets. Just that—until he laces his fingers through mine and holds tight.

The massages went on, drawing sighs, stirring a deep sense of calm in our cores. Our breathing synced. My skin tingled lightly beneath the sheet.

And when the massage ended and we’re left alone in the hush of the candlelit room, our eyes locked—and we both knew we wanted to simply relax and enjoy each other's company. We gently climbed off the massage tables and found our way to each other’s side. The massage had just ended, our skin still warm and soft from the oils absorbed during every slow, lingering stroke. We put our clothes back on before sitting on the couch.

Randy settled back on the couch, eyes dark with something tender as I eased down beside him. His arm around my waist was steady and gentle as he pulled me closer. The closeness was slow and deep, every moment bringing a sweet sensation of comfort. His fingers found my arm, creating a soothing sensation that made me breathe evenly.

I leaned against him, simply enjoying the quiet moment.

“This is nice,” I whispered, my voice soft and content.

His arm around my waist was steady and gentle as we simply sat there, enjoying the shared peace. The gentle strokes of his fingers sent warmth straight through me, every touch comforting.

“It really is,” he murmured, his voice low and soft. “Just what we needed.”

My breath was steady, a sense of calm settling over me.

I leaned my head on his shoulder, a quiet sigh escaping me as my body relaxed against his. He held me close—warm, slow, and completely present.

I shifted slightly, adjusting my position to be more comfortable beside him. He pulled me closer, this time simply for comfort.

“You’re my everything,” he whispered.

He held me closer, each movement gentle and reassuring until a wave of peaceful contentment washed over me, gentle and lingering. I fell asleep in his arms….I don’t know if it was from the calming massage, the night before with Dom or a combination of both.

We both woke sometime later. I excused myself upstairs to the bathroom so I could take my contacts out. I put them in the case with solution then used allergy relief drops in my eyes and threw my glasses on before heading downstairs. Randy did a double take as he didn’t realize that I wear contacts 99% of the time.

“Hey, babe,” he said. “Didn’t know that you wore contacts and glasses.”

“Yeah, I am near sighted,” I said. “I am surprised you haven’t noticed….there have been many times that I have squinted at the tv because I wasn’t using any corrective eyewear.”

“I honestly hadn’t noticed,” he said.

“What are the plans for the rest of the day?” I asked, changing the topic.

“We are going to this kind of fancy French restaurant for dinner, check out the area where the restaurant is, come back here, have some wine….”

Later that evening, we dressed for dinner. Randy wore a well-fitted linen suit, and I chose a formfitting, elegant little black dress that heavily accentuated my figure. Randy had arranged for a car to drive us to and from the restaurant. Upon our arrival, the driver courteously opened my door, helping me out of the car before Randy could get around to my side. Randy then offered his hand, but I politely declined, stepping ahead.

The restaurant, "Le Fleur Sauvage," was nestled on a charming cobblestone street, its exterior a classic Parisian-inspired facade with ornate ironwork balconies and soft, glowing lanterns. Inside, the ambiance was sophisticated yet inviting. Dim lighting cast a warm glow over crisp white tablecloths and polished dark wood tables with elegant chairs. Soft jazz music played at a low volume, creating an intimate atmosphere. The air carried a delicate scent of fresh flowers and subtle spices from the kitchen.

We were promptly shown to our table, a secluded spot by a large window overlooking the quiet street. After settling in, we ordered our appetizers, two bottles of Sauvignon Blanc, and our main entrees all at once. For appetizers, we chose a rich mushroom pâté with toasted baguette slices and a delicate goat cheese tart with caramelized onions. I made sure to emphasize that I had a seafood allergy when ordering our main entrees so there wouldn’t be any cross contamination. For our main courses, I selected the Coq au Vin, a classic French dish of chicken braised with wine, mushrooms, and bacon, and Randy opted for the beef tenderloin with a red wine jus.

As we ate our appetizers, Randy began to talk about his children. He spoke at length about their recent school achievements, their sports activities, and funny anecdotes from their day-to-day lives. I listened, offering minimal questions, finding it difficult to genuinely engage, as I had always struggled to connect with his kids.

Once our main courses arrived, the conversation shifted. I began to talk about my work. “Things have been incredibly busy at the office lately,” I explained, taking a bite of my food. “I’ve been swamped managing portfolios and made investments on the behalf of my clients. I handle a significant number of clients and their stock investments. The market has been quite volatile, which means I’m constantly strategizing to keep my clients’ assets strong.”

Randy's gaze, and the gazes of other men in the restaurant were fixed on my large tits, which were practically spilling out of my dress anytime I moved; even a little bit.

“That dress looks incredible on you, Deppgrl,” Randy commented, his eyes warm.

“Thank you, Randy,” I replied, taking a sip of my wine. “It’s one of my favorites.”

I can see why,” he said, a soft smile playing on his lips. “You look stunning.”

“This restaurant is beautiful,” I changed the topic.

“I’m glad you like it,” Randy said. “I tried to pick somewhere special for us.”

“You certainly succeeded,” I confirmed, enjoying the moment.

Even though I have a different degree from higher education, Randy showed a keen interest in my career. “It’s fascinating, all this talk about portfolios and investments,” he said, leaning forward slightly. “Why did you get into that, Deppgrl? I thought you studied something completely different.”

“It’s health-related,” I replied, keeping my answer brief. “And I did.”

He pressed further, a curious glint in his eyes.

I met his gaze with a look that clearly communicated, "Drop it." He immediately picked up on the signal and changed the subject.

After our main courses, we each ordered dessert, paired with a French wine that complimented our desserts. I chose a delicate Crème brûlée, its rich custard topped with a perfectly caramelized sugar crust, accompanied by a glass of Sauternes. Randy opted for a classic Tarte Tatin, served with a scoop of vanilla bean ice cream, and a glass of late-harvest Riesling. As we enjoyed our desserts, our conversation flowed easily. At one point, Randy rested his hand on my thigh. I met his eyes with a firm look, and he immediately removed his hand.

When we had finished our desserts, we lingered a bit longer, finishing the remaining wine from dinner. Randy then paid the bill, and we headed outside to the waiting car for the short drive back to the cabin. The ride back was quiet, filled with unspoken thoughts.

Upon arriving at the cabin, I kicked off my shoes, got a drink of water, and then headed upstairs to change into an oversized shirt. After taking out my contacts, I headed back downstairs with the glass I had used for water. Randy looked at me from the couch he was sitting on and immediately threw a pillow on his lap.

“I see you have a problem that I can fix,” I stated, my voice even.

He quickly got rid of the pillow. I walked over to him.

I stroked his dick until he climaxed and came. I then went to wash my hands, refilled the glass with water, and headed upstairs, calling out, “Goodnight.” Randy called out, barely loud enough for me to hear, "Good night, Deppgrl. Thank you."

I went into the room that I chose, locked the door, and fell asleep not long after going to bed. I woke up the next morning around 8 am. I showered, brushed my teeth, dressed in the nice but casual clothes I packed—shorts and a formfitting and very low-cut shirt. I put my contacts in, did my hair and makeup, then headed downstairs.

I started brewing coffee with the Señor Coffee machine, and made bacon, eggs, and toast for myself. Due to my slightly older age (early 40s), I could no longer drink coffee on an empty stomach, so I had to, unfortunately, wait until I had eaten half of my breakfast. I had four mugs of coffee.

By the time I had cleaned up after myself and finished the 6-cup pot of coffee, I heard Randy stir, yawn, then start the shower. Fifteen minutes later, Randy joined me on the deck that faced the pond. He came up behind me.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he said, his voice a normal speaking tone.

I turned around. “Good morning, Randy. I’m packed, and I’ve ordered a car to take me home.”

Randy’s brow furrowed. “What happened?”

“Sarah happened,” I stated. “From when I met her, and then the call she made to me with pictures and video clips. In the video clips, I could hear and see you say that you were still in love with her and that you regret divorcing her, as well as you trying to kiss her.”

Randy’s face paled slightly. He tried to deny it, but I cut him off. “Don’t bother, Randy. I had them authenticated.”

Just then, my phone buzzed. It was a notification from a driver that they were five minutes away. I gathered my belongings and went downstairs. I threw my bag into the back seat of the waiting car but got into the front seat next to the driver. As the driver began heading down the very long driveway, a tear slid down my face.

“You better keep your other reservations for the rest of the weekend, Randy,” I told him as I reached the bottom of the stairs. “You can go with Sarah. In fact, I invited her to spend the rest of the weekend with you. She happily accepted and admitted that she was still in love with you.”

He tried to beg me to stay, but I simply looked at him, my expression unwavering. “Let me go, Randy,” I said. “This is mostly you and your deception, and partly your nosy, disrespectful kids.”

I picked up my phone as I headed to the driver.

Me: Hey Kay, you no longer have to protect me from Randy – besides, I do NOT need protection from him or any other man. Sarah, his ex-wife told me the truth and assumed that you had already told me. We were both embarrassed by the fact that you couldn’t be bothered to tell me that the two of you talked. Because you didn't tell me about the conversation as you should have,  I have to step back from our friendship so I can figure out whether or not I can continue the friendship with you. You purposely hid important information from me. We do not do that to each other and you know it.

Kay:  This serious and yes, I didn’t tell you as you shouldn’t be hearing it from me nor her, you should’ve heard it from Randy. You know I'm always here for you, but I need to and want to understand why you’re so mad at me. We'll figure this out.

Me: You don’t understand why I’m so mad at me? Kay, Sarah is NOT a client of yours nor a friend. To you, she’s an ex-wife to a man I used to date. I am mad at you because you failed to tell me that he wants to get back together with his ex-wife and has wanted to for a long time. You would be mad at me if I withheld information like this if you were in my situation. Do not reach out to me until I am in the right mind to talk to you.

I then went to Dom's text.

Me: Hey Dom, I want you to come over in an hour and a half. I need you.

Dom: Okay. I'll be there. Do you need me to bring anything with me?

Me: Just you and a bottle of wine. Or tequila? Your choice.

A Night of Margaritas, Mischief, and Unexpected Romance

I called Kay as I wanted a girls night with my best friend. It’d been a while since we hung out last. Between me and my man problems and her long hours, it’d been a few weeks since we had hung out.

“Hey,” I said when she answered. “I was planning on going to Dominic’s for dinner. I know you’ve never eaten there before, and I was wondering if you’d like to meet me there? It’ll be my treat.”

“I’ve been dying to try your friend’s restaurant,” Kay replied. “Yeah, I’ll be there, but I just need to finish up a few things here at work, handle some stuff at home, then I’ll meet you there. Give me about an hour and a half.”

“Sounds perfect. See you then!” I said.

After we hung up, I headed straight for the shower, eager to wash away the day’s stress and any random hairs Chloe might have accidentally left on me. I took my time, enjoying the warm water, then styled my hair the way I normally style my hair. Nothing against Chloe; she’s talented, but she hasn’t seen me in years nor does she know how I style my hair.

When I arrived at Dominic’s, Kay was already waiting, her bright smile a welcome sight. The host, who recognized me immediately, led us to my usual corner table.

“It’s good to see you, Kay,” I said, as we settled in.

Kay grinned. “You know it! I’ve heard amazing things about the food and the atmosphere, and I’ve been dying to finally try it here.”

Within moments, two glasses of water appeared, followed by a basket of warm bread, accompanied by a small bowl of olive oil infused with a fragrant blend of Italian herbs and spices. Immediately after, margaritas in salt-free glasses, house salads, bruschetta, and an antipasti appetizer arrived. Moments later, a server I recognized but didn't know by name followed our server out, bringing a pitcher to leave on our table to refill our margaritas.

Kay’s eyes widened. “Deppgrl, is this typical?” she asked as she gestured to the food and drinks.

I laughed. “No, it’s not typical. However, being friends with Dom and with his staff knowing me well, he sends extra food out to me occasionally.”

“Well, I’m certainly not complaining!” she said, taking a sip of her margarita. “This is fantastic.”

As we were talking about our days, Kay, ever the amazing attorney that she is, sighed. “It was another day of paperwork and endless depositions. And dealing with that misogynistic pig of a boss who thinks all I’m good for is getting him coffee.” A mischievous glint entered her eyes. “Though, I might have 'accidentally' spilled some hot coffee on his lap near his dick. That was just a little revenge for his antiquated views. How was your day, Deppgrl?”

I chuckled, proud of my best friend and took a sip of my margarita before refilling our margarita glasses. “Oh, I wish I was a fly on the wall to see that! My day was just the usual whirlwind of managing people's stocks and portfolios. Nothing quite as dramatic as the courtroom or a law office.”

Taking a deep breath, I decided it was time to drop the bomb. “So, speaking of things that aren’t exactly typical... I’m going away with Randy for the weekend to get him off my back about trying to win me over.”

Kay’s fork paused halfway to her mouth. “Really? You’re going to spend the weekend with Randy – a man that you don’t really trust anymore to try to get him off your back?” Kay knew what happened when I met Sarah and that the last thing I needed was more drama.

“Yeah, I know. He’s been so persistent, and I just need to get him off my back about trying to win me over. I’m hoping this weekend will finally get him to stop.”

Kay looked unconvinced. “Are you sure that won’t just encourage him to pursue you even more?”

“I hope not,” I said, though a flicker of doubt crossed my mind. “Honestly, I just want it to be over.” I paused, then leaned forward conspiratorially. “And speaking of what’s been happening since Randy and I broke up… in the last twelve or so days I’ve been pretty busy. I’ve slept with both Vic and Vin several times. Separately, of course.”

Kay’s expression didn’t change. She just nodded slowly. “Well, good for you, Deppgrl. You do you.” I wasn’t entirely surprised by her reaction. We are both incredibly sex-positive, and we support people having sex whether they’re married or in a long-term relationship. Plus, it’s no secret that I’m a diagnosed borderline sex addict. She winked. “Just be safe and have fun.”

Our main courses arrived then—my chicken scampi, fragrant with garlic and lemon, and Kay’s vibrant pasta primavera. As we ate, we drifted back to the topic of Randy.

“So, what do you think Randy has planned for this weekend?” Kay asked, twirling some pasta around her fork.

“Oh, I don’t know,” I joked, winking. “Probably just sex; lots and lots of sex.” We both laughed, but the laughter died down a bit as we considered it more seriously. “No, honestly, I think he might have a spa day planned, either Friday afternoon when we get there or sometime Saturday.”

Kay nodded. “That sounds like something he’d do. I’m guessing that you’ll be going out to dinner both Friday and Saturday nights?”

“Absolutely,” I confirmed. “It sounds like we will be as he asked me to pack two nice outfits.”

After we finished our dinners, our plates were cleared, and then Dom himself appeared, carrying a tray laden with small bowls of gelato: mint chocolate chip, cookies and cream, chocolate, vanilla, and raspberry chocolate. “Deppgrl, Kay,” he announced with a flourish. “A little something sweet for my favorite customer and her friend.”

“Dom, you shouldn’t have!” I said, though my eyes were already scanning the flavors.

He pulled up a chair and joined us. “Nonsense. It’s my pleasure.” As we enjoyed the cool, creamy gelato, Dom chatted with us, his eyes twinkling. He even flirted with me a bit, a familiar playful glint in his eyes, but I was oblivious to his flirtations.

Suddenly, our server approached Dom, speaking to him in low tones. Dom excused himself, stepping away from the table with her. They talked quietly for a few minutes, occasionally glancing over at us. Just before he turned back, Dom winked at me, a subtle gesture that made my heart flutter.

When he returned, he smiled. “Dinner is on me tonight, Deppgrl.”

“Dom, you’re too kind,” I said, reaching for my wallet anyway. I pulled out $60 and slipped it onto the table for our server. “Thank you.”

We lingered a bit longer, chatting with Dom, but I noticed the restaurant was starting to fill up. “You know, Dom,” I said, standing up, “it’s getting pretty slammed right now. I think Kay and I should probably head out to let you and your staff get back to your customers.”

“Already?” he said, a hint of disappointment in his voice. “It was awesome having you both.”

As we were saying goodbye, Dom leaned down, and to my surprise, he kissed me softly on the lips. He then cupped my face with his hand, his thumb gently brushing across my cheek. “Goodnight,” he murmured.

“Night,” I managed, my voice barely a whisper.

As soon as we were out the door, Kay grabbed my arm, practically dragging me away from the entrance. “Deppgrl! What was that? How long has that been going on with Dom?”

I shook my head, still a little dazed. “That was the first time anything more than a hug has ever happened, I swear!”

“Bullshit,” Kay scoffed. “He spent the entire time flirting with you when he was sitting with us! It was obvious.”

“BS,” I said, but Kay was already reaching for my phone. Before I could protest, she’d put in my access code and was typing furiously. A moment later, she handed it back. “What did you do?” I demanded, looking at the screen. It was a text to Dom, sounding exactly like me, inviting him to my place when he was done for the night.

Seconds later, my phone vibrated. It was a text from Dom: My business partner can finish working the rest of the night. I’ll be at your house in about 45 minutes.

Kay grinned triumphantly. “See? I told you!”

We left the restaurant, and Kay followed me home, pulling into my driveway right behind me. “Alright, let’s go,” she said, already heading for my front door. “We need to make sure this place is ready.” She supervised as I quickly dusted the important surfaces and lit several candles, filling the air with a soft glow and a sweet aroma.

Next, she raided my closet and found some sexy lingerie that accentuated my large tits and my curves. “Okay, go shower,” she commanded, holding up the chosen ensemble. “I’ll finish up here.”

I did as I was told, emerging from the bathroom to find Kay grabbing my damp towel to add to the washing machine. While she was doing that, I brushed my teeth, applied deodorant, and smoothed on some rose-scented lotion. She then took over, doing my hair and makeup, making sure I looked effortlessly stunning. Finally, she placed fresh towels in my bathroom.

She pulled me into a tight hug. “Have a great night, Deppgrl,” she whispered, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

Kay left a few minutes later, her car disappearing down the street. I was still buzzing from the restaurant, and the thought of Dom arriving soon sent a fresh wave of anticipation through me. Just as I was tidying up a stray throw pillow, the doorbell rang.

I opened the door. I was wearing a short silk robe that covered my lingerie, just enough to be suggestive without revealing everything…unless I moved the wrong way. Barefoot, flushed, and with my heart pounding, I saw Dominic standing there, his eyes dragging over every inch of me. I let him look. Let him see how badly I needed him without saying a word. “You’re really opening the door like that?” he asked, his voice tight. “Wearing that?”

“Come in, Dom,” I said, stepping aside.

He followed me into the kitchen, carrying two bottles of very expensive wine. He set them on the counter, his gaze still lingering on me. I handed him the wine opener from the junk drawer. As I stretched to reach up into the cabinet for wine glasses and the silk robe rose slightly, revealing a hint of my ass. From behind me, I heard Dom whistle softly and the wine opener clattered to the floor. I pretended not to hear the whistle, focusing on the wine glasses. A blush crept up my neck.

He picked up the opener, uncorked one of the white wines, and poured a generous splash into each glass. “Let’s head to the living room,” I suggested, leading the way.

As we were settling down on the more comfortable couch, I tucked my legs underneath me; which made the robe rise a little bit revealing more of my legs. Dom turned to me, told me that he’d saved this wine for something important and felt that tonight was that night. He took a sip of his wine, his eyes holding mine over the rim of his glass. “Deppgrl,” he said. “I’ve been interested in you for a very long time. That kiss at the restaurant tonight… it was something I’ve wanted to do for years.”

“You could have said something,” I added, my voice soft.

He paused, his eyes serious. “I didn’t want to ruin the relationships you were in and I didn’t want to ruin the friendship I have with you.”

“What if I want you to?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. Dom’s eyes widened, a flicker of surprise and then intense desire crossing his face. We both slowly put our wine glasses down on the coffee table. He leaned closer, his gaze locked on mine.

”What do you want, Deppgrl?” he asked, his voice a low rumble. “You,” I breathed, my heart pounding in my chest. I gently grabbed the collar of his polo shirt, pulling him closer. As our kiss deepened, we shifted our bodies, and he ended up on top of me on the couch; I could feel how hard his dick was. He stopped briefly, his eyes searching mine. “Do you want this to continue, Deppgrl?” he asked.

“I do,” I whispered, my fingers tangling in his hair. “Follow me.”

We grabbed our wine glasses and the opened bottle of wine and headed up to my bedroom; I was thankful that I had washed my bedding earlier in the day. We drank some more wine, the silence between us thick with anticipation, before we came together again to kiss. Our hands ran over each other's body as we helped each other undress. As he took his pants and boxers off, I couldn't help but stare and also blush at the size of his dick. He is a bit more endowed than Vince. To be honest, I wondered how I was going to take all of his dick, but I knew that he was going to be patient with me. We kissed again until he picked me up, carried me to my bed, and gently placed me on the bed. Once he saw me settled, he joined me on the bed.

Dom then gently ripped the top part of my lingerie, revealing my large breasts. He looked in awe for a moment, his eyes wide with admiration. "My God, you're magnificent," he breathed, before lowering his head. He began to suckle one nipple, drawing me in with a soft, persistent pull, as he rolled the other between his thumb and forefinger. A deep moan escaped my throat, a sound of pure pleasure. He switched to the other nipple, suckling with equal fervor, while his free hand moved to spread my legs gently.

Then, with a soft tear, he ripped the rest of my lingerie, revealing my entire body and my tattoos. He was wonder-struck, his gaze sweeping over my curves and the intricate designs on my skin. "Absolutely beautiful," he whispered, his voice laced with awe. He leaned down, tracing the lines of my tattoos and the curves of my body with his fingertips, then with his mouth, his lips leaving a trail of soft kisses. By the time he pushed the tip of his hard dick into my pussy, I was dripping wet and trembling. "You're so ready for me, Deppgrl," he murmured against my lips, his voice husky with desire.

"More than ready, Dom," I gasped, my hips instinctively arching up to meet him.

"Good, because I've been dreaming of this," he whispered, his voice rough with anticipation.

"You're incredible," he murmured. "Absolutely breathtaking."

"You're not so bad yourself," I teased, tracing the line of his jaw. He leaned down, kissing me deeply. As we kissed, he inserted two of his fingers in my pussy to see how wet I was and to massage my g-spot. He pulled back slightly, his breath warm against my ear.

"Do you want me to use a condom?" he whispered.

"No," I replied, my voice a little shaky. "There's no need. I'm on birth control."

"Good," he said, a satisfied rumble in his chest. He kissed me again, more urgently this time. He pushed half of his dick into my pussy, pausing for a second, letting me adjust to his size. "Just like that," he whispered, his eyes on mine. Then, with a slow, deliberate thrust, he pushed the rest of his dick deep inside me.

I screamed, a mix of pleasurable pain and overwhelming sensation. He let out a primal groan as he came, his body tensing above mine. We lay there for a moment, catching our breath.

As he slowly began to thrust his throbbing dick in and out of my pussy, he leaned down and began to suckle one of my nipples, rolling the other between my thumb and forefinger. "You feel so good," he whispered against my skin, his voice a low, husky growl. "So incredibly tight. Every inch of you is perfect. I could stay buried inside you forever."

"Oh, Dom, yes," I moaned, arching into his every thrust. "Please, don't stop." My fingers dug into his shoulders, pulling him closer.

"Never, my love," he promised, his lips brushing my ear. "Not until you're screaming my name."

"God, I want you Dom," I gasped, my breath catching.

We made passionate love throughout the night, our bodies entwined, the air thick with whispers and moans. We fell asleep in each other's arms as the first hints of dawn crept through the windows, painting the room in soft hues of pink and gold.

We woke mid-morning, the sunlight streaming gently into the room. I stirred, stretching languidly, and then got up. I put on my silk robe, nothing on underneath it, I padded into the bathroom to brush my teeth. When I returned, I went downstairs to make coffee. A few minutes later, Dom joined me, dressed in his clothes, his hair slightly disheveled, but a warm smile on his face.

"Morning, beautiful," he said, leaning against the counter as I poured us both a cup. “I couldn’t find any extra toothbrushes so I used yours. I’ll swing by later to bring you new package.

"Morning. Just leave it in the mailbox as I am leaving for the weekend around 1 pm" I replied, handing him his coffee. "Sleep well?"

"Like a dream," he chuckled, taking a sip. "Better than I have in years. You?"

"Amazingly well," I admitted, a soft smile playing on my lips. I gestured to the kitchen. "Want some breakfast? I can whip something up."

He shook his head, a hint of regret in his eyes. "As much as I'd love to, I need to head home, shower, and get ready to head back to the restaurant. It's going to be a busy day."

"Already?" I asked, a pang of disappointment. "Unfortunately," he said, stepping closer. He reached out, gently cupping my face. "But last night was... everything I've wanted."

After we finished our coffee, he pulled me into a deep, passionate kiss, his lips lingering on mine for a long moment before he finally pulled away. "I'll see you soon, Deppgrl," he promised, his eyes holding mine before he turned and left, the door clicking softly behind him.

 

A Day of Renewal

After I'd finished cleaning the house, making sure every trace of Vince and our night was gone, I tossed my bedding into the washer. I enjoy the simple pleasures of clean bedding and how fresh it smells.

Next, I decided my hair and I both needed a fresh start. I headed to the salon, walking in with a nervous but excited energy. My stylist was Chloe, a sibling of a childhood friend, greeted me with a warm smile.

"DeppGrl, is that really you?" she exclaimed, her eyes widening in recognition.

"Chloe! I know, right? It's been forever!" I laughed, settling into the chair. "I need a change. My hair is getting so heavy since it’s so long, maybe to just above my shoulders?"

She nodded, already assessing my hair. "Above the shoulders? You got it. Time for a whole new vibe." 

As she worked, she noticed my hair was pretty fried. "Your hair's looking a little... parched," she observed gently. "Let's do a hair mask, it'll make a world of difference." I agreed, and the cool, creamy mask felt amazing. We chatted about everything and nothing, catching up on old friends and where life had taken us. "Oh, and I was also hoping to get a bikini wax today if you have time," I added.

"No problem at all, we can definitely fit that in," Chloe assured me.

Once the mask was rinsed, the bikini wax done, and my hair was styled, she led me to the front.

"Alright, so for everything, it'll be $95," Chloe said, then added, "But with the 'friend of the stylist' discount, your total is $45."

"Oh my god, thank you so much, Chloe!" I said, genuinely touched. "You're the best."

"Anytime! It was great seeing you," she replied, beaming.

My next stop was the nail salon. I'd just done my own nails, I opted for a much-needed pedicure. I sank into the plush massage chair, letting the warm, bubbling water soothe my tired feet. The gentle hum of the salon and the soft chatter around me were incredibly relaxing. I closed my eyes, just for a moment, and before I knew it, I was drifting off.

A soft chuckle brought me back. "Well, look who decided to catch some Zs," a familiar voice teased. It was Maria, the salon owner, a woman I'd known for years.

I blinked, a little disoriented. "Maria! Oh my gosh, I am so sorry! I didn't mean to fall asleep!"

She waved her hand dismissively. "Honey, don't even worry about it. You looked like you needed it. You were out for a good thirty minutes."

I laughed, feeling a bit sheepish but also wonderfully rested. "Thank you for letting me. It was a much needed nap."

After paying and making sure to tip the employee generously, I stepped out of the salon. My feet felt incredible, my hair looked amazing, and I felt a sense of lightness and renewal.

I drove home, the late afternoon sun streaming through the window. Walking through my front door, I immediately went to the bathroom mirror. I stared at my reflection, turning my head from side to side. The person looking back almost didn't seem like me – the shorter hair, the refreshed glow, the feeling of something undeniably new. But it was me, undeniably. The changes weren't just external; they had settled deep inside. Before I packed it, I sat down and opened my journal, filling a few pages with thoughts about work, trying to empty my mind of it. Then, I pulled out my suitcase and tucked the journal inside. It felt important to have it with me, a silent confidante to capture whatever moments unfolded when Randy and I were at the cabin. Just in case.

Unexpected interruption

Vince headed into the shower, and I began to get dressed. I slipped into a comfortable pair of jeans and a soft t-shirt, still feeling the lingering warmth on my skin from our night together. The sound of the shower running filled the otherwise quiet house.

A short while later, Vince emerged, toweling his hair dry. "Ready for some breakfast?" he asked, a relaxed smile gracing his lips.

"Starving," I admitted, my stomach rumbling in agreement.

We ate a little of what was left over from the previous night's food, mostly just picking at it, as our appetites weren't quite fully there. The conversation flowed easily, light and comfortable, a pleasant hum of companionship after the intensity of the night.

Once we finished eating and cleaning up, Vince stood. "Well, I should probably get going," he said, walking over to me.

"Thanks for coming over, Vince," I said, looking up at him. "Last night was... exactly what I needed. It was fun."

He leaned down and kissed me softly, a gentle, lingering touch on my lips. Pulling back slightly, his eyes warm, he added, "I'll talk to you soon."

"Okay," I replied, my gaze following him.

He gave my hand a squeeze, then turned and walked out the door. I closed it behind him, letting out a quiet sigh.

An hour after Vince left, I was in the kitchen, wiping down the hard surfaces where he and I had been just hours before. The counter gleamed under my cloth, and I was just reaching for the spray bottle again when I heard the familiar click of the front door opening. My heart leaped into my throat. Randy. He still had my house key.

"Deppgrl?" Randy's voice called from the entryway, a hint of uncertainty in his tone. He walked into the kitchen, his eyes immediately landing on me and then on the half-cleaned counter. "What are you doing?" he asked.

I froze, the spray bottle still in my hand. "I'm cleaning," I stated, my voice flat. "Randy," I added, trying to keep my voice even, "what are you doing here? What do you want?”

He hesitated, his gaze still fixed on me. "A few weeks ago, I made plans for this weekend and reserved a cabin for us," he began, his voice softer now. "I was wondering if I should cancel it."

I met his gaze, my expression unreadable. "That's entirely up to you,” I replied. "We're no longer dating, so I have no say in your decisions."

He took a deep breath. "Do you want to join me?"

I raised an eyebrow, crossing my arms. "Why do you want me to join you?"

He met my gaze directly, his expression serious. "This is going to be my last attempt to win you over, Deppgrl."

I sighed, the sound heavy. "If I say yes, will you stop asking me to give you another try?"

"Yes," he replied, his voice firm.

I sighed again, then nodded slowly. "Yes, Randy. I'll join you."

A wide smile broke across his face, lighting up his eyes. "Great! Pack two nice outfits, and whatever else you need."

"Okay," I said.

He looked like he wanted to kiss me, but he refrained, simply holding my gaze for a moment. "I'll pick you up around 1 PM on Friday."

"Okay," I replied.

He turned and walked out the door. I watched him go, then realized he had left before I could ask for my house key back.

A few minutes after Randy left, I pulled out my phone and texted Tara.

"Hey Tara, you're in charge for the next two days. Thursday will be a personal day for me, and Friday, I'm going away for the weekend."

Her reply came almost instantly. "You need to take more time off! Should I reach out to your clients for you?"

"I'll take care of that," I texted back. "I'll include you on the email so the clients know who they should talk to." She thumbs upped the message. In a matter of minutes, I sent the emails to the clients I had.

I started packing almost immediately, beginning with toiletries and the two sets of "nice" clothes Randy had requested. I also tossed in a few other comfortable outfits, my favorite worn-in sweatpants, and, of course, a compelling book to get lost in. I knew I'd need to pack more things, like my running shoes but I still had plenty of time before Randy was scheduled to pick me up on Friday. The thought of a weekend away, a chance to clear my head and see if Randy truly meant what he said, settled a quiet anticipation in my chest.

The body remembers nothing

"You serious right now?" Randy's voice dropped, shaking with disbelief as he stared at me.

I offered no reply. 

"You texted him?" His jaw tightened, a muscle twitching. 

I swallowed hard, remaining silent. 

Randy took a step back, a bitter laugh escaping him as his hands settled on his hips. Vince simply stood there, unmoving, observing. 

"Unbelievable," Randy muttered, shaking his head. "You think he's the answer to whatever's going on inside you? You think he is gonna help you forget?" 

He turned to leave, then paused, his back still facing me. "I'm not giving him a show," he said quietly, almost to himself. 

Then he was gone. There were no slammed doors, no shouting, just the distant sound of his truck starting up and pulling away from the curb. I remained frozen in place, watching him go. Vince paused on the porch, his eyes sweeping over me. I wasn't wearing a bra under my thin tank top, nor any panties. My legs were bare, and I could feel the tension and heat radiating from my skin. 

"You sure?" he asked, his gaze intense, searching mine. 

"Shut up," I retorted as I smiled, pulling him inside with a yank.

I kissed him hard, my mouth desperate against his. His hands immediately found my waist, then slid upwards, tugging at my shirt and finding bare skin beneath. I fumbled with his belt, then tugged his shirt over his head. 

"You really want to forget him that badly?" he murmured into my mouth, his breath warm against my lips. 

"I want to forget everything." 

That was all the prompting he needed. He shoved me back against the wall, ripping my tank top off until my breasts spilled free, and then sucked one nipple into his mouth. His other hand cupped the other breast, fingers rolling and tugging until a soft whimper escaped my lips. 

"You needed this," he muttered against my skin, his voice rough. "You're already trembling."

I couldn't deny it; my body was a quivering mess. He shoved his jeans down just enough, lifted one of my legs, and pushed into me in one deep, forceful thrust. I gasped—there was no warmup, no easing in, just thick, fast, and completely filling.

"Oh my God—"

"You're soaked," he growled, his voice guttural. "You want it rough?"

I nodded, my breath catching. "Don't stop." 

He didn't. He held me up, fucking me against the wall, one hand gripping my ass, the other still expertly teasing my nipple. I came embarrassingly fast, tightening around him with a sharp cry. He continued to thrust until my body was shaking uncontrollably. 

"I'm gonna cum," he muttered. 

"Inside of me."

He groaned, slamming in deep, his hips jerking as he came hard, holding me against the wall while his cum flooded inside me. 

"Not pulling out," he whispered, his breath hot against my ear. 

"Good," I breathed, my own voice ragged. 

Next, he bent me over the kitchen counter, and without giving me a second to recover, he slid back inside. His cum was already dripping from me, slicking the way for his next entry. His thrusts were deeper this time, more controlled, and his hands spread me open wider. 

"You're gonna take every drop," he said, his voice firm. I couldn't speak; I could only moan, already cumming again, my body giving out under his relentless assault. 

He fucked me like he had something profound to prove, as if he were trying to erase every other man from my skin. After that, he took me upstairs. He bent me over the sink, making me watch in the mirror while he drove into me from behind. My breasts bounced with every thrust, and my mouth parted in a silent gasp of shock.

"Look at yourself," he commanded. "Look what I’m doing to you."

I watched, my reflection a blur of pleasure and abandon. I came again. He came not long after, grinding deep as he emptied inside me once more. Later, in the shower, he pinned me against the cool tile. I barely had the strength to hold on. He lifted my thigh, entered me again, and fucked me slow and deep while the hot water ran down our bodies. He pressed his forehead to mine as he came, silent this time, but intensely focused. We didn't talk. We moved from room to room—the floor, the stairs, the bed again—his hands everywhere. His mouth was on my breasts, my neck, my inner thighs. At one point, I straddled his face and sobbed through the orgasm, but he didn't stop. He didn't ask for anything; he just gave, took, and gave again. 

By the following afternoon, he pulled me out to the back deck.

"Need some air," he muttered, already unzipping.

I didn't argue. He bent me over the railing, pulled my hips back, and slid inside—deep and fast. My nipples brushed the wood as I moaned. He held my waist, pounding into me like we hadn't already fucked through most of the day, plus the night before when we had slept a little bit.

"Still want to forget?" he panted, his breath ragged. 

"I don't even remember my name," I gasped, my mind utterly blank.

He laughed, kissed my spine, and came with a shuddering groan. When he pulled out, I was shaking uncontrollably. I showered again. 

My skin stung. My thighs ached. My chest was still marked where his mouth had been. He didn't say anything when I walked out of the bathroom wrapped in my towel. Neither did I. I passed him in silence—sore, sore everywhere, full of him, my head blank, and my body utterly spent. But I was no closer to forgetting.

I still wanted and needed Randy.

The predicament

As Randy exited my house, I closed the door behind him with a soft click. I sighed, leaned against the cool wood, and felt the tears welling up. Then, I started to cry, an ugly, snot-filled sob that shook my entire body. I knew I was in quite a predicament. I loved all three men equally – Vince, Vic, and Randy – however, I loved them very differently. I wanted to remain friends with Vince because of our long history. I knew that I would never have children with Vic even though he loved me; it was bad enough that I was sleeping with him, a married man. And I knew that I loved Randy and still wanted a future with him, but I had been wondering how on earth that would work as I didn't trust him. Even as a grown adult, I still needed to be careful with who I had sex with and how many partners I had at a time, though I still knew that the pregnancy test results would be negative.

I sighed again, dried my eyes with the back of my hand, and pulled out my phone. I texted the ER physician I had seen twice before, Dr. Maddie Jones. I told her that I was overdue for the Depo-Provera birth control injection. Her reply came almost instantly, telling me that she could see me in the next thirty minutes at the hospital. I grabbed my keys, wallet, and water bottle, and booked it to the hospital.

When I entered the ER, I bumped into my favorite nurse, Max.

"Deppgrl! What brings you here?" he asked, a friendly smile on his face.

"Hey, Max," I said, trying to sound casual despite my racing heart. "I'm here to see Dr. Jones. I'm overdue for my Depo shot."

"Ah, gotcha," he nodded. "I'll let Dr. Jones know you're here. And, just to be on the safe side, after I tell her, I'll run a quick pregnancy test. Fastest way to check is a blood draw."

I rolled my eyes, a small smile playing on my lips. "Fine, Max. Just get it over with."

"You got it," he chuckled. Max went to tell Dr. Jones, then quickly grabbed the necessary supplies and brought me into a private room. He efficiently took a few vials of blood from my arm, then headed straight to the blood lab.

When Max got to the blood lab, he dropped my name, and the techs immediately put a rush on the test. Max came back to the room a few minutes later.

"Okay, so usually this kind of test takes a few hours, sometimes even a day to get results," he explained, "but once I mentioned your name, the lab techs said they'd put a rush on it for you."

"Thank you, Max," I said, genuinely grateful. "You're the best."

"Just doing my job, Deppgrl," he replied with a wink.

About forty-five minutes later, Max returned to the room with Dr. Jones.

"Deppgrl, good news!" Dr. Jones announced, a warm smile on her face. "The test came back negative. You are not pregnant."

I sighed with profound relief, a tension I hadn't realized I was holding finally releasing. "Oh, thank God! That's a huge relief."

"Indeed," Max added, already setting up the injection. "And we can get that Depo shot administered for you right now."

"Perfect," I said, extending my arm. "So, how's everything been, Dr. Jones? Max, keeping busy?"

As I chatted with them, Max expertly injected me.

"Deppgrl," Dr. Jones said, once the injection was done, "since you're here, would you like to go ahead and get an STI test done as well? Just to be thorough."

I didn't hesitate. "Yes, absolutely. That would be great."

Max immediately grabbed more tubes for blood, along with a long Q-tip looking thing for a vaginal swab. He drew more blood, this time from my other arm, as Dr. Jones took care of the vaginal swab quickly and efficiently.

"Alright, Deppgrl," Dr. Jones said, as they finished up. "We'll send these off to the lab. Our lab is getting pretty busy right now, so we'll let you know the results in a few hours."

"Thank you both so much," I said, pulling my clothes back into place. "I really appreciate it."

"Of course," Max replied.

"Take care, Deppgrl," Dr. Jones added.

I thanked them again and left the ER, feeling a mix of lingering anxiety and immense relief.

As I drove home, I decided to stop at Aditi's restaurant to order some food. I pulled into the familiar parking lot, the aroma of spices already making my stomach rumble. Inside, I ordered a few meat samosas – crispy, triangular pastries filled with seasoned ground lamb and peas – along with a rich, creamy Butter Chicken, its sauce fragrant with ginger, garlic, and fenugreek. I also added a side of fluffy Basmati Rice and a basket of warm, buttery Garlic Naan.

As I waited, Aditi herself popped out of the kitchen, her face breaking into a wide smile. "Deppgrl! So good to see you!" She came over and pulled me into a warm hug. "Where's Randy tonight? You two usually come together." She asked before she could realize she had asked it.

I sighed, pulling back from the hug. "We broke up, Aditi."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "Oh, my dear! What happened? He seemed so good for you."

"He hurt me, Aditi," I explained, keeping it basic. "And I just don't trust him anymore."

She nodded slowly, her expression softening. "I see. Give him a chance, my dear. Love is complicated."

"This was his second chance, Aditi," I told her firmly. "I refuse to give a man a third opportunity to hurt and disappoint me again."

She just simply nodded, understanding dawning in her eyes. Just then, my food came out, neatly packed in a bag.

"On the house, Deppgrl," she said, pushing the bag towards me.

"Aditi, no," I protested, reaching for my wallet. "I'm going to pay for this."

She laughed, a warm, melodic sound. "Alright, alright! But next time, it's on me."

"Deal," I said, smiling back. We said our goodnights, and I left, food in hand.

I was finally home, and I ate dinner while watching TV, though I wasn't paying much attention to what was playing.

Just as I was finishing up dinner, my phone rang. It was Vic. My stomach fluttered with butterflies, and I quickly answered.

"Hi, mi cara," I said, my voice a little breathless.

"Hi, mi vida," Vic replied, his voice warm and familiar. "How are you?"

"I'm doing better now that we're on the phone," I admitted, a small smile touching my lips. "And I also just went to get the Depo shot."

"Oh," he said, and I could hear the disappointment in his voice. "I'm doing well, but I'm getting busy at work."

"What's wrong?" I asked, sensing his shift in tone.

"I'm just sad that you got the Depo shot," he confessed.

"My body, my choice," I stated, my voice firm but not unkind.

"I agree with that," he quickly replied. "I had hoped to see you tonight, but my wife is expecting me."

"Oh," I said, the hope I hadn't realized I was holding deflating. "Well, I better let you go then."

"Bye, Deppgrl," he said.

"Bye, Vic," I replied, and hung up the phone. I just cried into my hands. I knew that he would always end up with his wife, but after the previous night, I had hoped he'd spend the night with me again.

I dried my eyes and pulled out my phone. I texted Vince.

"You available to come over?" I typed.

His reply came quickly: "What do you need?"

"I just need you, Vince!" I texted back, hitting send.

Almost immediately, his response came: "On my way over immediately."

I cleaned up from dinner, took a shower, and put on an oversized shirt. As I headed downstairs, the doorbell rang. I went to open the door, and there stood Randy.

"Randy, go home," I said, my voice flat.

"Deppgrl, please," he insisted, stepping closer. "I need to talk to you."

"I said, go home," I repeated, my voice hardening.

Just then, Vince's car pulled up, and he quickly exited, heading towards my door. Randy and Vince locked eyes, a tense staring contest beginning between them.

"It's very clear that Deppgrl doesn't want you at her house right now, Randy," Vince stated, his voice calm but firm. "And it's rude to show up at someone's house uninvited."

The Unexpected Call

A wave of disappointment washed over me. Vic had left for work without saying goodbye, though I knew he needed to get to work. I pushed myself from the kitchen counter, a decisive sigh escaping me.

I decided to head upstairs to my bedroom. The sheets were a tangled mess, so with quick, efficient movements, I stripped the bed. I carried the entire bundle downstairs to the laundry room, dropped it onto the floor a heap, added laundry detergent to the washer, loaded the machine, closed the lid, and started it.

Barely twenty minutes after Vic had left, my phone rang; it was Randy. "Fuck!" I thought to myself. I knew that if he were to come over, Randy and I would undoubtedly have sex. Not that I didn't want to – I certainly did – but I didn't want him to think it was okay to hurt me and then simply come back later expecting sex.

I took a deep breath and answered, my voice cold. "Hey, Randy."

"Hey, Deppgrl," his voice was soft and hesitant. "Can I come over? Think we should talk."

I paused, processing his question and weighing my conflicting desires. He called my name again, "Deppgrl?"

"You can," I said, "but your visit will be short."

"Okay," he replied, a hint of relief in his tone. "When can I come by?"

"Give me about an hour and a half," I said, my voice still cold.

"Okay," he replied, "I'll see you then."

"Bye," I said, and then hung up the phone.

When I returned to my room, I noticed that it still smelled of sex, so I turned on the ceiling fan and then the air purifier to help clear the lingering scent. After that, I went back downstairs to run the vacuum on the carpets and sweep the kitchen floor. I grabbed a vase from the top of the fridge – one of several up there that served as decorations of sorts. After grabbing scissors, I went outside to my flower garden, where I cut daisies, carnations, and tulips before carefully bringing them inside. I took the vase off the counter, brought it over to the sink, added room temperature water to it, arranged the flowers, and placed them in my living room.  When I returned to the kitchen, I put the scissors in the dishwasher.

Looking at my watch, I saw that I still had time for a quick shower. I hopped in, showered, then dried off and dressed in loungewear. Afterwards, I headed to the laundry room, where I moved the bedding from the washer to the dryer then started the dryer.

As I headed to the kitchen to grab something to drink, the doorbell rang. I glanced at my watch to check the time, knowing it was Randy without even needing to check the security camera app, and opened the door. He was dressed sort of to the nines in slacks, a polo shirt, a sports coat, and loafers. I invited him in.

“Thank you for allowing me to come over,” Randy said…he was doing is best to not kiss me. “Deppgrl, I honestly had no idea that I was flirting with Sarah—I genuinely thought I was just being friendly. That doesn’t excuse what happened. I understand that it made you feel like you were on a date with both of us, and worse, it showed you that I was being disrespectful towards you. I’m really sorry for that.”

I opened the door. “Ok.”

He leaned in, trying to kiss me.

I pulled back, steadying my voice. “You need to seriously reconsider your actions.”

He stepped back immediately, eyes dropping. “I’m sorry,” he said again, quieter this time.

Halfway out the door, he turned back to look at me. His eyes met mine.

“I told Sarah I’m going to try to earn your trust again,” he said. “And I told her that from now on, we’ll only talk about Emma and Max. That’s it.”

I held his gaze for a beat. “Ok.”

I then said “Goodnight, Randy.”