Ann: The Married Years Ch. 35

The truth was that Lindsay didn't know what he did for a living, other than he provided her with everything she needed. It was a strange plot twist that Janie found a bit of a stretch when she first read it, but she then again, most of the books she read were implausible. They weren't written well enough to fill all the holes in the plots, but that didn't stop her from getting lost in them. She just had to remind herself they were fantasies and push aside the believability factor.

In the novel, Lindsay often thought he might be in the mob. After all, he made a lot of money and he never talked about his line of work. In fact, he refused. In his mind, she was there to take his mind off his job. In a way she was a trophy wife, and she'd been happy with that arrangement for years. But the lack of something more concrete in her life began to wear on her, and it manifested itself when their only child went away to college.

"That sounds familiar," Janie said as she read of the sadness Lindsay had when her daughter moved to another state to attend her chosen university.

And that was when Lindsay realized she wasn't happy... and she wanted more. The attempts to satiate her lust with a random affair went haywire. She failed miserably, and she surmised that it was because her heart wasn't in it. She wasn't a cheater. But she wanted to cheat.

So, she turned to something else. She began to masturbate. Actually, she'd been doing it forever in the comfort of her bedroom.

"Huh... so have I," Janie said as she read of Lindsay making a bold decision.

The Ashcroft's lived on a big estate out in the country, and it occurred to Lindsay that she was alone... always. Taking that as a sign to do something bold, she stripped off all her clothes and went outside. She went past the safety of her front door, out into her front yard. There, a hundred feet away from the house, she lay down on the plush grass and spread her legs, her hand finding her wet pussy.

"What kind of book IS this," Janie exclaimed as she read the graphic details of the woman in the book getting off in the bright sunshine. "This... this is PORN!"

And it was, in a way. It was erotica, a well-written, intelligent book that just happened to be filled with explicit scenes of sexual gratification. And it captured Janie, ensnarling her in the wicked world it opened up to her. She thought romance novels were steamy, but they were remarkably tame compared to the vivid depictions of sex and naughtiness that were described on the pages within the book she was holding.

She could recall times when she became physically excited from the books she'd been reading. A particular scene or adventure would catch her fancy, and she'd feel her pulse race. But after reading about Lindsay and her pulsing clit as she rammed her fingers deep inside her cunt, and the climax that soon followed, Janie was practically dripping. For Lindsay, the experience was liberating. For Janie, it was world changing. She just didn't know it at the time.

It was when she read the second chapter, when Lindsay had decided that she needed something more than the sexless marriage she'd become trapped in, that she saw more similarities between herself and the character. Lindsay had tried to have another fling, once again backing out at the last moment, yet wishing she'd gone through with it. She didn't want to give up her posh lifestyle, but the idea of going the rest of her life being personally miserable scared her more.

Since she obviously wasn't the type to be able to cheat and live with the guilt, she decided to consult with a lawyer, contemplating ending her marriage. She looked through the yellow pages, finding a firm that specialized in that legal specialty, and she made an appointment with one of the partners; a Mr. Johnson.

She made herself a nice lunch, but ate light, worried she'd become queasy from the mere thought of actually leaving her husband. It wasn't something she was thrilled about, but she was desperate to find a way to have a life that was more fulfilling. In some ways, she envied her daughter; her entire life ahead of her, off at college.

"I bet she's having the time of her life," Lindsay thought, recalling her own time at university, and how wild and uninhibited the sex had been before she met her husband and fell in love. That moment sealed it for her. She was trapped inside that huge house on the estate, nothing more than an object to her workaholic husband.

Janie started to feel the connection between herself and Lindsay, the same sense of depression and despair setting in as she read the anxiousness in the characters words and actions. Thoughts of her own daughter came to mind, a tinge of jealousy hitting her. "Yep... she's having the time of her life, alright. I bet she's even getting laid."

It was an odd thought to have about her 20-year-old daughter, but it stuck with her. She wasn't upset about it; she was envious.

Lindsay called a cab, not wanting to take her expensive car to a lawyer's office on the off chance someone she knew might see it. She changed clothes as she waited for it to arrive. She put on a summer dress, light and airy, with thin straps. Janie thought of one she had that was similar, loving how it felt when she wore it. But instead of the pantyhose she would have worn, her literary counterpart put on stockings and a garter, choosing at the last moment to go without panties. She also went without a bra.

"Brazen little bitch," Janie chuckled, thinking she'd never do that. She couldn't even remember where she'd put her garter set, although she did have a pair of stockings with a stretchy lace at the top that held them in place. That made her laugh again, realizing she was comparing herself to Lindsay with almost every paragraph she read. "This is me in so many ways. But I'd definitely wear underwear."

She got lost in the scene in the taxicab, mesmerized by Lindsay's actions. She saw the handsome driver and got carried away with the idea that if she were single, she could deal with the emotional baggage that came with a divorce and she'd be able to fuck him if she wanted. In her mind, the only reason she hadn't hooked up anyone so far was because she was married, and she had strong feelings about adultery. But those feelings didn't keep her from wondering what it would be like to sleep with another man, and they certainly didn't prevent her from flirting.

"Holy fuck," Janie mouthed when she read the details, the sentences so perfectly crafted it made her feel like she was watching a movie.

Lindsay caught the eye of the man driving, his glances in the mirror increasing as she smiled at him. Knowing she had his attention, she opened another button on the top of her dress, exposing more of her cleavage, saying she was hot. She followed that with another, and then another, until her nipples nearly came into view.

As the miles passed on the way to the office, she became bolder. It helped that she was wearing dark sunglasses. The driver couldn't tell if she was looking at him, and she went out of her way to pretend she wasn't. And there came a point where she didn't look anymore. She knew he was watching, but she was more consumed with what she was doing to herself to care that he was.

"She's masturbating in the back of the cab!" Janie said out loud, reading but not believing the woman she felt so close to would pull the bottom of her dress up, slowly at first, until she finally exposed her bare pussy. Then she spread her legs for him as she dipped her elegant fingers inside her juicy snatch.

Janie's hand went to her mound, feeling the dampness between her legs even through the slacks she was wearing. It didn't take long for her fingers to slip beneath the waistband, wiggling their way through her soft pubic hair. When she touched her clit, it felt electric, the jolt pulsing through her.

"What am I doing?" she thought, her legs starting to open to give her hand more room. "Why does this kind of book turn me on so much?"

She had to take her hand out to turn the page, griping about it. It never occurred to her to take off her pants, or to continue to stimulate herself through the material. She was too engrossed in what Lindsay was doing. And that was cumming at the top of her lungs in the back of the taxi. She laughed at the way Lindsay hopped out of the cab, offering the driver the fare with her wet fingers.

And then she got to the scene at the lawyer's office, riveted by the passage. Picturing Lindsay waiting, the nerves of what she was about to do setting in. Janie felt it too. There was tightness in her chest, just like the one she read about, literally feeling the same angst as the character. "I shouldn't be going in there," she said as she imagined it was her walking down the hallway behind the secretary.

Janie read on, believing she was Lindsay as she sat in the plush leather seat of the office, fidgeting with her garter out of nervousness. She felt uncomfortable, even though the large room was tastefully decorated. She knew interior design, and it was easy to tell they'd done the décor in a way to put clients at ease in a situation that was anything but.

As the minutes collected to the point she'd been there a half-hour, she knew she'd made a mistake. The whole thing was a colossal waste of time. As much as she hated her life, she loved her husband. She didn't want a divorce. She wanted a marriage, but she wanted one that included sex. Torn, she wasn't sure what to do, feeling trapped. The only thing she did know was that she felt alive in the back of the cab, and she felt alone sitting in that office.

"How the hell do I get my husband to see me like that driver saw me?" Lindsay asked herself. The sigh that escaped turned into a gasp as she heard the doorknob turn.

In burst a tall man in an expensive tailored suit. He came in quickly, his back to her before she could get more than a glimpse. She quickly determined he was fit and athletic from his gait and the way his ass looked in the dark pants. His broad shoulders made him look muscular, and his graying temples distinguished, even from behind. His face was buried in a briefing folder as he rounded the large mahogany desk. He cut the epitome of a multi-tasking attorney, his mind on several things at once.

She stared at the area rug underneath the desk, her stilettos digging into the fiber as she gripped the arms of the chair. She was ready to jump up and scream she'd made a mistake, but feared she'd look even more foolish. Instead she would wait for him to speak to her, and then she'd apologize for the inconvenience she'd created in his day and offer to pay his hourly rate for wasting his time.

It was the authority in his voice that reverberated through her chest, her eyes flying up to see the man before her. He was still looking at the folder in his hand when he addressed her.

"I apologize for the wait. Mr. Johnson was delayed in court, and he called to ask if I'd take over your case if you don't have any objections. My name is Bill Ashcroft. And you are?"

Janie nearly dropped the book; the plot twist better than any she'd read in the weeks since she started her new obsession. "Oh my God! It's Lindsay's husband!"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The office wasn't all that dissimilar to the one described in the book. At least that's how Janie was viewing it as she sat in the chair across from her husband's desk. She was fidgeting much like Lindsay had, but for much different reasons. She wasn't there on the pretense of divorcing her husband, or even foolishly considering it. Terrence wasn't even a lawyer. He was an architect, and a successful one at that.

Her nerves were on edge because she was there at all. He'd discovered her stash of books, and with it he stumbled upon the reason for her recent unhappiness. Instead of confronting her directly, he stunned her by replacing her last romance novel with an X-rated erotic paperback. In it, he'd written a note telling her what he knew, and that he wanted her to read the first two chapters. Once she'd done that, she would know what to do next in order to, as he put it, save their marriage.

Those words carried with them an enormous weight, the message itself not only ominous, but also illuminating in a way. She'd been reading as an escape from a reality she found depressing. He gave her a literary choice that offered adventure and satisfaction that she never would have believed existed. Yes, she loved sex. She missed it. But what she'd read so far wasn't the kind of sex she ever considered; mainly, doing things in public. With her eyes now opened, she sat there in his big, tasteful office, wondering what he had in store for her next.

She eyed her purse, wondering if she should pull out the book he'd asked her to read, thinking if she read the next chapter she might know what was going to happen. After all, she'd already lived the first two chapters firsthand. And not just in her mind... she'd been told to actually become Lindsay Ashcroft.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When Janie finished the second chapter, discovering that Lindsay was in the office of her husband, and the two of them were face to face with each other, her throat tightened and her pulse raced just as if it were her sitting there staring at William Ashcroft. She wondered what he must be thinking seeing his wife in the office of a divorce attorney, knowing she'd made the appointment. But she never found out. She wasn't allowed to read any more.

That was because Terrence had left a note written in margin of the page between the end of that chapter and the beginning of the next. It instructed her to go into the bedroom and open their safe.

She did as he asked, practically jumping up off the couch. She raced upstairs, opening their closet to find the safe in the back corner. Dropping to her knees, she dialed the combination and opened it, finding an envelope addressed to her on top of a stack of papers.

She poured over it carefully, not believing what he'd written. Then again, she couldn't believe anything that had happened since he'd left that morning. It was all too incredible to comprehend.

"Is he serious?" she said as she studied the note again, her hand covering her face as she smiled. At first she was adamant; refusing to accept that he'd want her to do something so ridiculous. She even thought about calling him and telling him he was insane for even suggesting she would do anything so absurd. But there it was again... a line telling her that if she wanted to save their marriage, she'd do what he was asking.

And he was asking. He wasn't demanding or threatening. It was such a

contradiction, because in a way it felt like he was ordering her. At the same time, there were no warnings of what would happen if she didn't. The only thing that came close to a warning was that she was not to read any further than the second chapter, and that he'd know it if she did. But there were no consequences listed, just an appeal for her trust and to be open-minded... again, in order to save their relationship.

Looking at her watch, she was running out of time. She was either going to have to do what he wanted or ignore everything and hope they could talk it out when he came home. While the idea of doing what as he asked terrified her, the idea of not doing it did so even more.

Returning to the couch, she quickly re-read the pertinent parts of chapter one to make sure she remembered it correctly, as if she could forget. It was really more to work up the courage. When she finished, she stripped off her clothes. Five minutes later she was lying on her front lawn in the nude, spreading her legs as she stared into the cloudless sky.

"I can't believe I'm about to do this," she said, biting her lip.

She recalled the climax she'd had as she sat in the office. Just like Lindsay had professed, she found the experience liberating. It wasn't the first time she'd been naked outside; she'd been skinny dipping several times with some girlfriends when she was younger. But it was the first time she'd ever had an orgasm, and it was the most powerful one she'd had in over a year.

It was quickly surpassed, however, by the one she'd had on the way to Terrence's office. In the envelope, he'd left her a fifty-dollar bill, telling her to use it to call a cab. She was to dress as Lindsay had, and she was to do exactly as she did in the novel.

"Oh my goodness," she whispered as she realized what he was asking her to do. She didn't realize she'd actually made the call to the cab company until she was slipping on her stockings and attaching them to the garter belt she'd found in the very back of her lingerie drawer. "Am I really going to do this?"

She put on the same pale-yellow sundress she'd worn for the UPS man the day he brought her the first big shipment of books. The choice seemed oddly poetic, and she loved the way it looked with the black stockings and the four-inch heels she'd selected to go with it. That is until she actually walked out into the sun. She hadn't recalled just how transparent the material was until she caught her reflection in the window of the taxi.

The lengthy ride to the office was filled with trepidation. She'd done just as Lindsay had, leaving a couple of the many buttons on the front of the dress undone at the top. Giving the driver the address on a slip of paper, she settled in place in the middle of the bench seat, checking to make sure he could see her in his mirror. As nervous as she was, at least there was some sense of relief that the young man driving was attractive, although he appeared to be in his mid-twenties.

"I'm old enough to be his mother," she thought as she glanced at his direction with her dark sunglasses firmly in place.

The age difference didn't keep him from looking when she unfastened another button, proclaiming how hot it was inside the cab. When he offered to boost the air conditioning, she found a way to smile sweetly before undoing the next, her full cleavage nearly spilling out of the top of the dress.

"How long until we get there," she asked, her voice cracking a bit.

"About a half-hour, Miss," he replied.

That he called her that actually calmed her down and got her into moment. She was about to do something playful, albeit incredible daring and personal. Just the idea that he would call her 'Miss' brought a wry smile.

"Miss? You're a very smart young man...."

"David. And Ma'am didn't seem appropriate."

"Good afternoon, David. I'm certainly not a Miss, but I'd prefer that you call me Lindsay instead of Misses."

"Very well, Lindsay. Welcome to my cab," he grinned, once again eyeing her barely covered breasts as they gently jostled from the bumps in the road.

"How long have you been driving a taxi?"

"Four years. It started as a summer job to get me through school, but it's been full-time since I graduated this past spring."

"What did you study?"

"Engineering... I was hoping to find something in construction, but I haven't had much luck. So I do this while I wait for the right job."

"Do you like it?"

His eyes shifted to the mirror once again. He couldn't see her eyes for the dark lenses she was wearing, but he become very adept at reading the body language and facial expressions of his fares. It was something he prided himself in. One of his co-workers had given him some pointers, telling him of the importance of being aware of the people or persons he picked up and how they were acting. It was a safety thing, but for David it had become a study in personal behavior that he found fascinating.

He flashed a bright smile, yet shook his head. "Not really," he answered honestly, leaving an extended pause before he added, "but some days have their perks."

Janie took that as a favorable sign. While she wasn't sure if she could go through with it when she'd gotten in, she somehow felt at ease. It was nothing like what she'd read in the book, where Lindsay did what she did without any interaction with the driver other than to tell him where to go, and to thank him once they arrived.