1. Happy endings


    Date: 7/24/2015, Categories: Seduction, Author: brwnsugr, Rating: 6, Source: LushStories

    I knew he wouldn’t remember. I didn’t even try to remind him this time. I did try to give him a little “hint.” A little something to jog his memory, maybe. Or just to let him know there was something different about that day. I mean, it’s not often I come back to bed after my usual routine. Most mornings I go down and get the coffee going, set out our preferred breakfast items. We’re watching our calories these days. No more bacon and eggs. No pancakes, no French toast. Sigh. He likes those high fiber cereals that taste like cardboard. I do low carb flatbreads slathered with a smidge of cream cheese, a few berries on top. It’s working, too. I look great for my age. No rolls falling over those curves now. Three sizes smaller, too. I love that. I’m disappearing, my friends say. But actually, I’m reappearing. My old self, the one he fell for, is back. And this version is even better, I think. Older. Wiser. Wilder. I thought I’d remind him of that by slithering back under the covers to wake him up in a more “interesting” way that day. He said, “Yeah, okay, I’m awake,” and gave me a pat on the ass. And then said, “The big report’s due today. I better get a move on,” and sat up stretched and headed for the shower. Honest to God. Hand on the ass, but eyes on the prize. What can I say? I love this man. I really do. Or that’s what I keep telling myself. I’m actually not entirely sure anymore. I’m comfortable with him, is more like it. And I’ve seen what my divorced women friends are ...
    going through. Is that enough to make me stay with Scott for the rest of my life, though. That is the million dollar question. Not sure. Don’t want to think about it. But the more I try not to, the more it keeps creeping up on me at work. That day, it didn’t help that all the women in the office kept asking me what our “plans” were. Cheryl’s husband actually bought her an outfit to go to the best restaurant in town, on their fifth anniversary. Had it sent to the office. With flowers. And the cutest card. I hate her. No, I don’t. She’s a nice kid. And it’s not her fault that my husband doesn’t have a romantic bone in his body. Or that the one “bone” in his body that could’ve at least shown me a little “something something” on the morning of our 20th, yes 20th, didn’t sit up and take notice even with my firm, newly “renovated” ass rubbing up against it. I mean, I’m only forty-two. Today, that’s not considered that old. And men love me. I could have all the “bones” I wanted. All day long. And don’t think I haven’t thought about it, when they eye me up and down in the elevator or turn to take that second look as I walk past their desks and doors and whatnot. I know I’m still fuckable. But the one man I really want to fuck doesn’t seem to care. So, I came up with a plan. And I have no idea where this came from. Wait, yes I do. There was an article about all these local cops who got fired for going to those “happy endings” massage parlors. I guess they worked out a sort of “you rub ...
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