Innocent Text Messages Pt. 02

I was ripped from my slumber the next morning by the consistent blaring of the alarm clock. I groaned as I hit the off button with more force than intended. God I felt like shit!

Have you ever woken up the next morning after a particularly bad argument with your spouse with that feeling of unknown angst? You can't remember exactly what the fight was about, but you remember that you're supposed to be angry. That's what I felt.

I felt like shit. My head felt heavy and I could barely keep my eyes open. Even though I'd just awakened I felt like I hadn't slept a wink. Then I noticed that I felt unusually cold.

The fact that I was shivering felt kind of odd. Two realities were brought to my attention when I looked around. One: I hadn't even slipped under the comforter last night when I went to sleep. Two: Selene hadn't slept in the bed last night.

It wasn't unusual for Selene to be gone by the time I got up in the morning. Her schedule was a little more strenuous than mine. She worked 10 hour shifts at the hospital for 4 days a week. There were no set days that she worked. Her schedule was up to the Floor Manager and had to be checked daily. She had to be there at 8:00 in the morning, and worked until 6:00 pm. Before she ended her shift, she had to give a report to the nurses relieving her. She rarely left the hospital before 6:30 pm.

This being said, the fact that she wasn't next to me wasn't out of the norm. What was out of the norm was that her side of the bed was unusually cold and undisturbed. Even when she left me to go to work, her warmth would remain behind. The sheets had that wrinkled look that let me know that my loving wife had occupied that space not too long ago. It was kind of like an unspoken promise of her return. She was gone, but only temporarily.

Like I said, I couldn't exactly remember why I was supposed to be upset. That is, until I saw her phone on the floor. It was in the same spot that it had landed when she slapped it from my hand last night and ran out of the room in tears. All at once I was bombarded as the memories of last night rushed back to me with crystal clarity. The most disturbing memory of all was the image of that asshole's engorged dick. That horrific picture was branded into my cerebral cortex. I doubt if I'll ever forget that.

Once again, the tornado that swirled in my stomach the night before raged inside of me. I thought I was going to be physically sick, but I had nothing in my stomach to spew. I slowly rose from my bed and forced myself push those thoughts aside. I was falling behind on the morning ritual.

You see, we have a morning routine that happens. It is like gears in a well-oiled machine. Over years of perfecting it, it is now so perfect that it practically runs itself. To begin every morning, I wake the girls up. I actually wake them up 10 minutes before they were actually supposed to get up. I've estimated that this was the grace period that they need to be more efficient in getting ready. It's all about the child's mentality. No matter what time I wake them up, they always want 10 more minutes. If they get that 10 minutes, they would shoot out of bed and are ready with amazing rapidity. If I don't give them those 10 minutes, then I have to fight tooth and nail to get them ready. They drag their feet as they whine and complain about how tired they are. Since I started waking them up 10 minutes early, they always stay on task. They got to feel the satisfaction of getting the "extra minutes" while they are none the wiser that they actually got no extra time. We are all happy.

Since Selene left before I did in the mornings, the job of getting them up and ready for school became mine by default. I didn't mind it though. I have to be up at this time anyway because I left for work right after their bus leaves. Once the girls are up, all three of us get ready at the same time.

Once we are all ready, we all go down to the kitchen for a breakfast of sorts. Usually breakfast consisted of nothing more than cereal for the girls (Frosted Flakes) and a coffee for me. Usually Selene has already started when got hers. She brews the whole pot knowing that I will be getting some not long after. Like I said, gears in a well-oiled machine. The routine practically ran itself.

This morning was no different. Except for my heart that was wrenched from my chest, of course. But, the show must go on! Once getting up and started, I slinked back into my room to get ready for work. I was on autopilot. I was doing the things that I did every morning with little to no thought. Honestly, I'm surprised that I was able to get fully dressed.

Everything went like clockwork. Me and the girls were dressed and heading down into the kitchen. That's when we got our surprise, and it reminded me that this was not like every other morning. Sitting at the table with a cup of coffee in her hands, was my wife.

We all stopped in our tracks to take in the surprise. The fact that my wife was never here in the morning made this morning an anomaly. Even on days that she didn't work, she would still be upstairs snoring away. So to see her sitting there at the table was one of those small things that let us know that this was not as standard as other mornings were.

The second surprise was how she looked. Her eyes were red and puffy. Her hair was all over the place. She was pale and her face was stained with tears. She looked like she hadn't slept a wink all night.

"Mommy?" Cassy said the word like it was a question. Selene's appearance was troubling. This was not the same mother and wife that we were used to. Selene was always put together. She was always in control. This shell of a woman was a aberration . It was like seeing Santa Clause smoking a fat one behind the mall on his break. Cassy couldn't help but to notice that something was wrong.

Selene looked up at our confused faces and recovered quickly. "Morning pumpkin!" She said as she held out her arms. She tried to sound cheery, but there is something about sniffling while you're talking that takes the wind out of that sail. Cassy walked into them and embraced her in a hug.

"Mommy's a little under the weather today. I called in sick so today so that I can figure out what's wrong." She said as her eyes met mine's. I didn't miss double meaning of her words. Luckily, this explanation seemed to placate my naïve daughter even though Selene hardly ever got sick. Cassy and Gaby chose to ignore this fact. They took it on faith that everything was okay, albeit a little cold. The morning routine ensued without any further hiccup. At least as far as the kids were concerned.

Selene kept shooting glances in my direction as if she were trying to gauge my mood. I was actively ignoring her presence. I drank my morning coffee and read the paper as if she weren't there. Or at least I pretended to. I know I was being childish by pretending that she wasn't in the room. But dammit, in my defense she started it! I just wasn't ready to face her yet. Looking at her would remind me of how much I loved her, which would ironically remind me of how much I hated her fucking guts.

We heard the telltale sound of the school bus brakes outside. "Bye Daddy! Bye Mommy!" My daughters screamed as their little bodies shot out of the side door. Just like that, we were alone.

We sat in silence until the sound of the school bus driving away broke the reveille. The only sounds came from my newspaper rustling and my sips from my coffee. Finally I'd had enough.

"Well, I'm off." I tried to say casually as I gathered up the girls' cereal bowls and put them in the dishwasher. I wanted to make a clean escape into the sanctuary of the job. However, as always, my wife was 3 steps ahead of me.

"I already called in sick for you. I told Tom that had a fever and had been throwing up all night. He told me to tell you to get better and to call if you are going to be out for more than one day." She sipped her coffee and looked at me, waiting for a response.

"Why the hell did you do that?" Even as it came out of my mouth, I heard how stupid that question really was.

She answered it though, even though it was obvious. "We need to talk."

SELENE:

How could I have gotten myself into this shit? Goddammit Brian! Did you really have the fucking nerve to send me a picture of your cock?

I guess I should fill in some blanks here. It may give you a better understanding of how we are where we are.

I am about 5' 5". I'm not about to tell you how much I weigh (what woman would?). I will let you know that I am very athletic and have been since I was in high school. I always kept myself in good shape.

My entire life, I have always been considered the pretty chick. I have dark brown hair, green eyes, and an olive type complexion. My breasts are pretty average (B cup) and my waist is slim. My hips curve out and slope down into two tone, muscular legs. My ass, which is what most people seem to like, juts out behind me in a tantalizing arch. It isn't a big ol' booty like you see in pornos or rap videos, but it is rounded and tone.

I have played most of the sports that my school allowed girls to play. I was even a cheerleader for a bit. My favorite sport to play was soccer. Being involved in so many activities made popularity a normal way of my life. It didn't hurt that most of the guys lusted after me.

So being athletic and fairly pretty like I was, I was always attracted to athletic guys. Sorry guys, it's the way the universe works. Hot girls like hot guys. I never liked Incredible Hulk type guys mind you, but abs and a tall, lean frame would have me moist in seconds.

Unfortunately, God has a sense of humor. When he made guys like these, I guess he had to create a sort of balance. The guys that came in these pretty packages usually turned out to be self-absorbed assholes who couldn't be satisfied with just one woman. No matter how much you do for them, they are always looking for more. Or at least more variety. Oh, they are all smiles and compliments when they're trying to get into your miniskirt. Once they get that treasure trove between your legs though, that sweet guy disappears and is replaced by his dipshit twin.

So when I went to college, I naturally started dating athletes. If you didn't have a jersey, I wasn't interested. I quickly found that behind all of the jump shots and the touchdowns was were egos of Kanye West proportions. I went through college dating asshole after asshole until finally I gave up on guys. I even tried to become gay, but that didn't take. One drunken kiss during a truth or dare game let me know that I needed some masculinity to get wet.

By my senior year I was completely over trying to find someone. I concentrated on my schooling and keeping my grades up. I wanted to make the honor society. That is basically the Dean's list, but for nurses. That would be a bump up when applying for nursing jobs straight out of school.

Fate stepped in in the form of a blind date. My roommate Shondra met this guy online and he wanted to meet her. They'd been chatting and sending pictures back and forth for a couple of months. After she sent him a picture of her in her bikini, he told her that he needed to meet her face to face. Naturally, being the cautious girl that she was, she didn't want to go alone for the first meet. She told him she had to bring her lonely friend because she was going through a tough time and couldn't be left alone. Ever the thoughtful guy, he told her that he would also bring a friend. This way the poor lonely girl could have some company. This would give them some space to "get to know each other".

I was the lonely friend that she wanted to bring. Of course the entire story was complete bullshit. We had no such plans together, and I would have been more than happy to spend a rare, quiet night alone. I didn't even know about it until she asked me AFTER she already told this guy that I was coming. After much pleading and pestering I finally agreed to go.

I wasn't really too enthusiastic about this evening. I had a test in a few days and I wanted to get some studying in. Luckily for her I respected the Girl Code, and didn't want to leave her stranded. I figured we would meet up with these guys, get a free meal out of it, and stand at the ready with an excuse if she wanted to be saved from a horrible night.

When we arrived at the movie theater, we looked around until we saw the guy she was waiting for. When I saw him I understood why she was so hot to see him. He was exactly the type of guy that I would have chosen. He was tall, tan, and had a nice physique. His friend on the other hand was a guy that I wouldn't have given a second look to.

He wasn't ugly. In fact, he was really cute. But he wasn't tall, lean, or tan. He was just average. He was an average CUTE guy, but still average. I had no doubt that he would make some girl happy, but just not me. I'm not suggesting that I was out of his league, but...

It's funny how you never think of yourself as a shallow person until you take step back. If I were to see these two guys standing side by side and I had to choose one, I would have chosen Shondra's date hands down.

How wrong I would have been.

I wasn't really expecting to have a good time. I figured that I was going to go through the motions, be as sweet I could be to my date, and keep him occupied long enough for Shondra to seal the deal. Come to think of it, that was probably his plan too. I mean after all, he was only there to keep me company because I had to be babysat.

I honestly never expected to see him again. At least that was the plan. But you know what they say about the best laid plans, don't you? Tony (my date) was a major clog in this plan.

It took all of 10 minutes of talking to him to decide that I liked him. No, I was not ready to drag him into the bathroom and degrade myself in a stall (what kind of story do you think this is?) But I enjoyed talking to him. He was so funny! I'm not talking stand-up comedian funny. He was just witty and easy to talk to. He had the kind of sarcastic humor that was dry and nonchalant, but delivered in such a way that made him not boring. He had a laid back way about him that drew me in to his universe. Conversation with him flowed so easily that I completely forgot about Shondra and her date. Before I realized it I had told him my entire life story.

Speaking of Shondra's date, did I mention that guys wrapped in the package that he was wrapped in had the tendency to be utter douche bags? He was no different. In fact, I think God went overboard when he made this guy. Every sentence that came out of his mouth was dripping with sexual innuendos. Every time he spoke to Shondra, it was like he was making a case as to why they should end up fucking. He even bragged about a time he had some girl giving him a blow-job while he was driving. He was so bad that he may have been overcompensating.

I looked into Shondra's eyes and I could tell that this evening did not go as she had anticipated. In fact, she was giving me the signal that it was time for me to give the excuse. Her eyes pleaded with me to end this farce of an evening. Unfortunately for her, I was having the time of my life and I wasn't ready to go yet. I hadn't been this comfortable with a guy in...ever. So I ignored the subtle hints that she gave and left her to her fate. Hell, it's her fault I was here in the first place.

Eventually, despite my stalling, the evening did end. Shondra's date wound up going home with a tentative kiss on the cheek and an empty promise to do this again. Tony walked away number. I took his phone and typed it in myself. I even made him promise to call me the next day. That was a big step for me. I usually don't make it a point to pursue guys, so I'm normally not that forward. I've never had to before. But throughout the even I'd been giving all of my subtle "I'm available" signals and he didn't show any signs of closing the deal. I was worried that he didn't have the balls to put himself out there, so I bypassed normal protocol and made it obvious. When that didn't work, I simply grabbed his phone and did it for him. Whether we ended up together or not, I wanted him in my life.

Well, to fast forward through all of the boring stuff, we rapidly became much more than friends. When I graduated, passed the NCLEX test, and became a RN (Registered Nurse) we were living together. He had actually graduated a few years before with a degree in Computer Science from another college. As fate would have it he was hired by a company that was right down the street from the hospital I'd eventually get a job at. He'd been working there for about a year when I met him. We dated for the rest of my senior year and lived together for 6 months before he popped the question. 6 months after that we were married.

I have to say at this point that I am head over heels in love with my husband. I feel like I have to say that now because that point may get lost as this story continues. I love my husband I and I would never trade him for anything in the world. He is a great father, a great husband, and a really good lover.

I found out how good of a lover he was on our third date (I promise I'm not normally that easy). I wasn't even sure if I wanted the guy to be my boyfriend until that night. Yeah, we had great chemistry but he still was not my type physically. All that changed the night that we were at his apartment listening to music. We'd had another great date and I was a bit tipsy. Suddenly, we just melted into each other. We were making out as our clothes disappeared. Then he showed me what sex was really like.

I know you guys are wondering if he had an eleven inch cock or a tongue that could shame a hummingbird's wings, but it wasn't anything like that. We just clicked. It was like we were two puzzle pieces that fit together perfectly. We were in sync. His dick fit inside of me in a way that allowed him to hit all of the right spots. It wasn't too big that it was uncomfortable, so I was able to really move with him. At the same time, it wasn't too small to where I had to wonder if he were in there or not. When I rode him, I was able to rock my hips with force and really grind into him, but I was also able to slam my pelvis into him without fear of getting my cervix ruined. When we were in the missionary position, I had my ankles on his shoulders as he worked his shaft in and out. He didn't pound me like a jack-hammer. It was more like he swung his lower body so that he hit my G spot. Again and again. Oh my God! The Coupe de Grace was when he bent me over and took me doggie. That's when he went for broke. I swear to God that couldn't stop my legs from trembling after that!

As we lay there in our post coital bliss, his hands swept across me with just the right amount of tenderness that it made my nipples jut out along with every goosebump on my body. His kisses were passionate, but not rough. The second time we did it that night was pretty much the same as the first, except this time he talked dirty to me. He had just the right mixture of demanding and firm, but sensual and soothing. It was just enough so that I felt submissive, yet I didn't feet like a cheap slut that was only there for his pleasure. It simply just great sex!

I won't go as far as to say that I was in love with him after that first time, but I knew that I wanted him as more than a friend. He was my boyfriend, and I was his girl. Eventually, I did fall in love with him and we got married.

So why would someone who is in love with her husband be in this mess right now? Well, there is no way to answer that question and not look bad, so I might as well be honest about it. I love the attention.

At the risk of sounding stuck up or conceited, it isn't a secret that I am very attractive. I always have been. Being like this has made me used to getting a certain amount of attention from guys. Even when I wasn't dating I still got the attention. Guys still asked me out. They always flirted with me, followed me, chased me around trying to break through the wall that was built up. I didn't realize it at the time, but I actually liked the fact that they chased me even though they had a snowballs chance in hell. It became game that I played, even though I wasn't really aware of it. On the subconscious level, I actually liked pushing them to the edge with the smallest amount of hope, only to remain just far enough to still be unattainable.