A Happy Accident

I was in a daze as I climbed into my car and backed out of his driveway. Somehow I managed not to collide with anything else, and it was only when I was back on the deserted road that I had the presence of mind to instruct the GPS to take me home. I never did get those directions to the mill.

Five minutes later, I was still on the gravel road, my speed slowed to a crawl. My pussy was aching, desperate for an orgasm, and a bead of sweat trickled down my temple. I spotted yet another private gravel drive that seemed to lead only deeper into the woods. The area was still deserted, and I found I was trembling as I pulled my car into the drive. The trees overhead enveloped me in shade, and I sat in the semi-darkness, partially concealed from the road I'd just exited.

I put the car in park but left it running, and then I slid my hand into my jeans, past my panties and directly to the wet outer lips of my pussy. God, I was drenched. As soon as I touched my swollen clit, I cried out.

Leaning back against the headrest, I used one fingertip to stroke myself with a quick up-and-down motion. My clit emerged even farther from its hood, and I pressed it harder, gasping and desperate for release. I was right on the edge, my thighs shaking and my pussy clenching. Then I pictured Evan stretched out in the sun, stroking his cock and looking at me with undisguised lust, and I came hard against my hand. "Oh fuck!" I shrieked, shuddering in the seat.

I withdrew my hand from my jeans and wiped my juices on my shirt. The smell of my sex filled the car. Resting my head against the steering wheel, I waited for my heartbeat to slow and my breathing to return to normal.

I finally pulled back onto the gravel road and spent five more minutes maneuvering around potholes until I reached the paved highway. My cell phone chirped, and I gave it a quick glance. A text from Aaron. I didn't bother reading it, just kept driving. I figured he was checking in, as he sometimes did when he was out of town during the weekend. Maybe it was his way of trying to assure me he wasn't with someone else at that moment.

Would I be able to hide what I'd done from Aaron when I spoke to him on the phone? Would he detect a change in my voice? I doubted it. It had been a long time since he'd made the effort to try and decipher what I was thinking.

We'd been married over twenty years now. Just five years ago, I'd discovered Aaron was cheating on me. The revelation didn't bother me as much as it should have, and that was when I knew I wasn't in love with him anymore. I didn't think Aaron loved me, either, but Landon was still in high school at that time, and we agreed to stay together for him.

Though Aaron was fifty-three, he'd cheated on me with a woman twenty years his junior. Morbid curiosity had driven me to find her on social media, and her slim, toned figure, never subjected to the rigors of motherhood, left me feeling that my own body had a lot to be desired.

Aaron promised me he'd broken off the affair, and we went to marriage counseling. It felt like going through the motions, rehashing our issues in front of a therapist. These days, I found myself relieved when he began packing for another work trip, and I wondered how Landon would cope if Aaron and I decided to get a divorce. Would he even care? At nineteen, he was almost self-sufficient, other than needing us to pay for his college tuition, and Aaron and I didn't have to stay together in order to do that.

And yet we both seemed resigned to a marriage of convenience. Maybe we did it for Landon, even though Aaron and I led separate lives. We were like planets moving in different orbits, but we were still anchored around the same star, the child we'd had together.

I had no idea who Aaron might be meeting on his trips. We still had sex on occasion, but it was a passionless ritual.

I wondered if I should feel guilty about what I'd done with Evan. Even if I'd wanted to, I couldn't. I was already replaying each moment in my mind, trying to capture every detail and commit it to memory. I hadn't acted out of spite toward Aaron, but I didn't feel any loyalty to him anymore.

I was bone tired when I finally arrived home. It was late in the day, and I went straight to the kitchen and gulped down a glass of water. Then I made my way to the shower, keeping the water cool. As I stood beneath the stream, I slipped a hand between my thighs. I only had to imagine Evan for a few minutes, and then I was coming again.

When I left the bathroom, wrapped in a robe, I heard my cell phone ringing. I'd placed it on the nightstand when I went into the bedroom to take off my clothes before my shower. Now I picked it up and answered the call.

"Hello," Aaron said.

My hand went to my throat, caressing the skin there. "How are you doing?" I asked him.

"I'm okay. I sent you a text earlier. Did you get it?"

I sank onto the edge of the bed. "Yeah, I did. I was running errands today and just got back home a little while ago. I was going to get back to you in a few minutes."

"Have you heard from Landon?" Aaron asked. He sounded distant, as though he were distracted. I imagined him sitting on his hotel room bed, scanning papers, his glasses perched on his nose while he made a dutiful phone call home to his wife.

"Yep, earlier today," I told him. "He's in Switzerland right now and having the time of his life."

"I wish I were in Switzerland right now," Aaron muttered.

"Difficult job?" I asked.

"You have no idea."

I didn't feel like making the effort at a genuine conversation this evening. "I'll let you go then," I said. "You must be tired."

"I miss you, Justine," he said before I could tell him goodbye. It was such a strange comment coming from him that I frowned.

"Is everything okay?" I asked.

"Yes. I just miss you," he repeated.

I felt a pang of guilt in my chest, thinking of what I'd done earlier in the day. "I miss you, too," I said without hesitation. I'd learned long ago that white lies, not trust, were the foundation of a marriage.

"Just a little more than a week left on this job, and then I'll be home for a while. I'm starting to find the idea of early retirement more and more appealing."

I plucked at the soft fabric of my robe, not sure how I felt about the prospect of him being home all the time. "It's something to think about," I finally said. "You've said before that all the travel is starting to wear on you."

"I'm definitely feeling my age." Aaron let out a weary sigh. "So what are your plans for the evening? Are you keeping yourself out of trouble?"

I couldn't help but laugh. "Well, I did get into a bit of trouble this afternoon. I was out driving, and a rabbit ran in front of my car. I swerved to avoid it and ended up hitting a mailbox. My car door's scratched."

"Jesus," Aaron said, and I braced myself for a lecture. "The important thing is that you're okay."

I raised my eyebrows. "I'm fine. I found the guy who owned the mailbox and paid him for the damage. He was very understanding about it."

"When I get back home, I'll make an appointment at the shop to have the car fixed."

"Thank you," I said quietly.

"Well, I'm back in my room for the evening," Aaron said, "so if you need anything, just call me."

I closed my eyes, holding the phone tighter. This was another way for him to profess his faithfulness without coming out and directly acknowledging it. He was letting me know he was spending the evening alone.

"Get some rest. I'll talk to you tomorrow," I said. "I love you."

"Love you, too, Justine."

I ended the call and fell back against the bed. For a long time, I just lay there as the shadows in the room deepened. My limbs felt heavy, and I thought I could actually fall asleep, but I roused myself, changing into comfortable clothes and heading to the kitchen to make dinner.

Later that night, I curled up in bed and opened my laptop. I typed Evan's name in the search engine. He didn't have much of an online presence—no clever tweets, no public Facebook page. I did find a website, and I guessed that someone maintained it for him. It showcased his art, and though I was no connoisseur and found his paintings a little too abstract for me personally, I could see his talent.

I spent the rest of my weekend trying not to think of him. When I got up the next day, I did laundry and chores around the house. I sat down to pay bills and send a few e-mails, and then I tried to lose myself in a novel. When Aaron called, I talked to him briefly. He told me he'd spent part of the day at a local park, and I realized I couldn't even remember where he was at that moment. He'd mentioned where he'd be staying before he left, but I hadn't paid attention. Was it somewhere in the Midwest?

I thought of Evan more than I cared to admit, even to myself. I wondered what he was doing out there in the country. Had he spent the day lounging in the sun again, or working on a painting? How long would it take before he didn't consume my thoughts?

I decided to go to bed early that Sunday night. The alarm would be sounding at six the following morning, and I wanted to feel rested. Mondays and Fridays were normally the most hectic days of my workweek.

It was after ten, and I'd been lying in the dark of my room for more than half an hour, still wide awake. I thought I might have to take an over-the-counter sleep aid and was about to get up and head to the kitchen when my cell phone rang. I peered at the screen and frowned, not recognizing the number. A flash of panic bloomed in my chest. What if something was wrong with Landon?

"Hello?" I said, sitting up in the bed.

"Justine..."

Immediately I knew it was him. The memory of his deep voice, the way he moaned my name, came rushing back to me, making my cheeks grow hot.

"Evan?" I said softly.

"Are you alone right now?" he asked, and I heard the pleading in his words.

I fell back against the pillow, my eyes wide. "Yes."

"I can't stop thinking of you, Justine. I keep remembering the way you looked yesterday, sitting on the grass and watching me." He drew in a shuddering breath, and I realized he was touching himself as he talked to me. "Have you thought of me?"

Just the sound of his voice made my hips move. I writhed against the bed, my hand sliding up my belly toward my breasts. "Constantly," I told him.

"God, I wish you were here right now," he moaned. "I'm lying on my bed, stroking my cock, wanting to come for you again."

"Evan," I breathed. My nightgown felt too constrictive, and I tugged at the fabric. "Hold on just a second." I placed the phone on the bed beside me and then pulled my gown over my head. The bedsprings squeaked as I raised my hips and tugged off my panties as well, and I wondered if Evan heard the sound.

I lay back against the sheets and picked up the phone again. "I'm here," I told him, my voice plaintive. "I had to take off my clothes."

He let out a groan so full of lust and wanting that it made my pussy ache and grow wet. "Are you touching yourself now?" he asked. "Touch yourself for me, Justine."

I slid my free hand between my thighs. Using just my fingertip, I parted my outer lips and gave my clit a quick stroke. I wanted to tease myself, bring myself to the brink and then back off, so that when I finally came, the climax would grip my entire body.

"I'm touching myself now," I revealed to him. "God, I'm already so wet..."

Evan gasped. "I want to smell you, taste you. Tell me what you were thinking yesterday when you watched me."

I slid a finger inside my cunt. "I wanted to wrap my lips around your cock," I revealed to him. My voice was husky, unfamiliar to my ears. "I wanted you to come in my mouth, Evan."

"Oh fuck." He sounded helpless with need, and as I used two fingers to fuck myself, I found myself desperate for him as well. I would have crawled to him at that moment, knelt before him and begged to be fucked. "Listen, Justine..." Evan said. I heard a brief rustling and then the unmistakable sound of him stroking his cock. He'd lowered the phone so I could hear just how hard and fast his hand was moving up and down his shaft.

"Evan," I cried out, and I rubbed my clit harder, heightening my arousal. I was so excited, it wouldn't take much to make me come, but I wanted to draw out the experience as long as possible.

"I need to be inside you," he groaned. "I need to see your face as you come."

My lust stripped me of any pride I might have otherwise had. "Please fuck me," I begged. "I need it so bad, Evan. I need to see your beautiful cock moving in and out of my pussy."

He whimpered, and my head was filled with the sound of his labored breathing. "Justine, I'm coming...oh fuck!"

All I had to do was imagine him powerless in the grip of his orgasm, and I gave in to my own. My limbs flailed against the bed, and I made a noise that was almost a sob as my thighs clenched around my hand. "Evan, please...." I managed to say.

"I'm right here, baby, listening to you come. My god, you're fucking sexy."

I lay there shivering. His words were like fingertips trailing along my spine. "Evan, what are we doing?" I whispered. "Whatever it is, it isn't right."

"It is right," he insisted.

"You shouldn't call me again," I told him, but we both heard the weakness in my protest. "My husband might be home next time..."

"Now you know my number, so you can choose not to answer if he's with you," Evan said. "This is the only number I have; cell phone reception is horrible out here, so I still use a landline. I'm only asking you to enjoy your body with me." When I didn't answer right away, he went on. "You hide it so well from everyone else, but I know you now, Justine. You'd live and breathe sex if you could." There was no accusation in his voice; he stated this about me as a simple fact, the same way he would assert that the sky was blue.

"That's not true," I said. "If you only knew how long it's been since I've felt this way..."

"You deny it, even to yourself, but I know," he replied. "Will you deny me, too?"

I closed my eyes tight. "No," I finally said. "I don't think I could if I wanted to."

"When will your husband be back?"

"Not till next Tuesday," I said.

"I'll call you later this week." Evan waited for me to tell him no, and when I didn't, he added, "Thank you for tonight."

I couldn't help but smile. "I'm glad you called, Evan. Good night." I hung up the phone before he could respond, and I pulled the covers to me, though the room was warm. Shivering beneath them, I clutched the phone in my hand and stared at his number on the screen, committing it to memory.

***

At work the following day, I found myself hesitating before looking at my colleagues. Would my face reveal what I'd done? How could I possibly not appear different? It felt as though my features were an open page for everyone to read, but no one noticed the change in me.

I spoke to Landon briefly on the phone, and as he chattered away about the sights he'd seen, I listened with enthusiasm, asking questions and laughing at his excitement. "I'm so happy you're having a good time," I told him.

He grew quiet for a few seconds. "Everything okay, Mom?"

I started, glad he couldn't see me. "Of course, sweetie. I just miss you."

"I miss you, too. It's pretty late here, so I'm going to go." He told me he loved me and said goodbye.

After we hung up, I decided to call Aaron. It was still fairly early, and I felt a rush of relief when I got his voice mail. I left a message telling him that I'd heard from Landon and all was well, and he didn't have to call me back that night if he was too tired after work. Already I was setting up my evening so I'd be free if I heard from Evan.

Evan waited until Wednesday night to call me, and by that point, I was desperate to hear his voice. "I can't get you out of my mind," he told me when I answered the call. "I'm so distracted, I can't even paint, and it's killing me. You know, I never got married because I'm a typical self-absorbed artist, and my work has always come first, but I've never wanted anyone as much as I want you now."

"You have the same effect on me," I revealed, my hand sliding between my legs. The bedroom was dark and cool, but my skin still grew hot. "I can't concentrate at work, and all I have to do is imagine your voice, how you moan my name, and I get wet. My panties are soaked all the fucking time."

"Is your pussy aching for my cock right now, Justine?"

Oh god, he was stroking himself again, his voice thick with longing. "Yes," I whispered.

"I've jerked off so much, I'm actually sore," he told me, "and yet here I am doing it again, trying to satisfy myself when we both know I won't be satisfied until I'm inside you."

I released a high-pitched moan. "If you keep talking like this, Evan, I'm going to drive out there and fuck you." The words were a dare to him, a challenge I secretly hoped he would accept. "Is that what you want? You haven't seen me naked. I'm not lean and tan like you."

He sighed, low and soft. "I wish you could see yourself through my eyes, baby. Do you know that when you're aroused, you have this way of tilting your head, with your lips parted? And the curve of your neck..." Evan gasped as though he were in pain. "It's perfection..."

His words sent a hot current from my nipples straight to my pulsing cunt. I sucked in a deep breath and rubbed my clit. "Your cock is sore?" I murmured, lying back on the bed. "I could kiss it and make it better."

"Oh fuck, woman, have mercy on me, please," Evan groaned. "Come back here. Say you will."

"You've built me up in your mind, but I'll only disappoint you." My voice was breathy, insubstantial.

Nothing would dissuade him; if anything, he appeared to enjoy imagining me naked. "Would you let me suck on your tits, Justine? I know you've got more than a mouthful for me. I love a woman with a belly and thick thighs and an ass I can grip as I fuck her."

I held the phone in one hand and used my other hand to rub my sensitive clit. How many orgasms had it offered up to me at this point? And I only wanted more.

"Do you shave your pussy, Justine?" Evan let out a soft chuckle. "I sure hope not, because there's nothing I enjoy more than eating a wet... hairy... pussy..." My thighs shook, and I lifted my hips from the bed before plunging two fingers inside my cunt. "Are your fingers deep inside your pussy right now?" he asked.

"Yes." The word caught in my throat, and I had to take a deep breath. "I'm using two fingers to fuck myself, but they're a poor substitute for your cock."

Evan growled. "Justine, oh fuck, please, baby..."

I knew he was close, and I withdrew my fingers from my cunt and began rubbing my clit furiously so I could climax with him. I didn't try to muffle my cries; I wanted him to hear the effect he had on my body.

"You're coming, aren't you?" Evan panted.

I didn't know if he was talking about me climaxing right then, or asking if I'd return to his house, and I didn't care. The answer to both questions was yes.

I shook violently, almost dropping the phone. "Yes!" I shouted. "Yes."

Evan began to whimper, the tell-tale sign that he was on the verge of climaxing. I finally grew still and listened to him make helpless grunts, and I knew exactly how he looked then, his features stretched taut as cum spurted from his cock.

We were quiet for a minute as our breathing slowed, and then he asked, "When?"

I swallowed hard. "Saturday," I said. "Noon."

"Christ, I can't wait. And Justine?"

"Yes?"

"Could you do me a favor and not wear any makeup?"

My eyes widened. "Evan, come on. I'll feel even more self-conscious then!"

"Please," he begged.

I let out a sigh. "Fine, but be prepared to lose your erection as soon as you see me."