An Affair Of Different Kind

She closed the flip phone and carefully laid it next to her on the passenger’s seat, stealing a glance in the mirror. The long hair was dirty, desperately in need of dying to hide the premature grayness, which first showed in her early twenties. Face gaunt and pale, dark circles under the eyes revealing many a late nights, some due to insomnia, others simply to worries which kept her from peaceful rest. Certainly not a beauty, but if she was to wear make up, she might look good. 

She didn’t see any of that, however. The only thing that she did notice were her eyes sparkling in anticipation and a smug grin lingering on her lips. Being naughty was always a turn on. For a woman who always tried to avoid any kind of danger or confrontation, she was certainly taking great risks at times. 

She turned the radio button and cut off the blast of modern music by pushing the cassette tape in its place. The haunting sound of Spanish flamenco ballad, saturated with passionate voices of Gypsy Kings levitated through the air. 

“I wonder what would he think of me if he ever met me in person?” she thought, her eyebrows rising in puzzlement. She was not quite as young as he normally liked, that much she figured out from their conversations but that didn’t really bother her. Some of her friends, who were stunning beauties in high school now looked like washed out middle aged women. She didn’t kid herself about looking young, but she still managed to turn a man’s eye. 

She never quite gathered up the courage to send him her picture, although he did ask for it, but only once. She told him she’d do it when she was ready and he never pressed the issue again. He however, had no problems with e-mailing his. A charming looking man in his early fifties with salt and pepper hair, dressed in a suit and tie. She chuckled over his attire; yuppies and businessmen were never her type. But she had to admit that he was very handsome. 

Before she met her father for the first time in her mid twenties, she always pictured him looking like that. Instead, she was greeted by an impossibly tall and painfully thin man with a faraway look that made him appear disinterested in everything. Later she learned that he was almost blind, thus his appearance of detachment, but the first impression was made and she never liked him, she never thought he was paying her any attention. His feelings for her were that of dislike, as well. She would be willing to wager on it.

Guy reminded her of her best friend’s father. Tall and handsome, soft spoken, always attentive and kind. She winced and looked around as if watched by a pair of invisible eyes. Of course she had never lusted over her friend’s dad, he was just…. well…her dad. 

She wondered if Guy even knew her name any longer. She used an alias when logging onto the erotic stories sites, which is where he found her address and got in touch with her. She gave him her real name and didn’t lie about her age, which when communicating with people online was normally not the case. He never said her name out loud on the phone, though and that made her wonder. At the end of the day, she didn’t really care. 

Despite the almost daily e-mailing between them and weekly, or in the worst case monthly phone calls, she always found herself thinking back to the day when he first contacted her. It had caught her completely off guard. The introduction to the ‘new man in her life’ was always the clearest of memories when she thought about Guy. She was stunned when a few months back there was a message in here e-mail inbox from a sender whose name she didn’t recognize. Signed by Guy, he explained that he had found her name on one of the sites, which were her secret and guilty pleasure, and would she like to role-play sometime. Specifically, he said he could be her daddy or grandpa. 

A prank, perhaps? Somebody in someway trying to get a hold of her information? It didn’t seem like that and despite the obvious nature of the e-mail, it intrigued her. Contrary to what she would normally do, this one she did not ignore. She wrote back: ‘You’ve got the wrong impression.’ The nerve of man, indeed. 

A day later, another e-mail by Guy stated his apology if he had offended her as this was not his intention. 

‘I wasn’t offended,’ was all she wrote in reply, adding her instant messenger name at the bottom and that was how it all started. Later that same day they instant messaged each other for almost three hours and she found herself telling him things that she had either never told anyone, or it has been so long ago that she had forgotten all about it. 

He told her he wanted her to slip her hand inside her panties and masturbate for him. He wanted her to touch and panty fuck herself, he told her not to come yet and then he wanted her to come right then, together with him. It was a hot September day and the arousal had poured perspiration beads all over her body. She trembled like a leaf in a cold breeze. The bottoms of her bra cups were drenched in sweat. 

To her amazement, she did exactly as he told her to do. It was not her way of pleasing herself in that manner, but knowing that this was dictated by another person, no matter how far away, faceless and strange had made her half mad with desire. 

It had taken her much longer than usual to bring herself on the brink of orgasm, and just as she was about to shiver in the desired ecstasy, she turned her head and glanced out the window only to see her husband parking the car three stories below, returning from work earlier than she had anticipated.

She panicked and for a moment grabbed onto the computer desk as if she was ready to flee. Her eyes returned back to the monitor and words ‘Come now, come with me…’ finally pushed her into the head spinning shiver. Now kneeling on the soft carpet, she whispered ‘yes, oh yes’, regretting Guy couldn’t hear her. 

‘Got to go, talk to you later’, was all she managed to type and click off he messenger window as Sam was walking through the front door, while her body was still shivering with the just experienced pleasure. 

Her face must have been glowing and guilt was probably plastered all over it, too. He came into the room and gave her a puzzled look. 

“What?” she asked and couldn’t keep herself from smiling. 

Sam smiled back and peeped over her shoulder, onto the blank e-mail window, which she managed to open up just as he was approaching. “What are you doing?” he asked with a look of suspicion.

“Nothing!” she said and still the smile wouldn’t fade away. “What?” she asked again. 

He bent over to her and cringed his nose. “You smell funny.” He concluded, which almost made her holler in laughter. 

“Well, yeah!” she said as if he was stating the obvious. “It’s hot in here and I’m musty.” His eyes narrowed. “I just came back from a jog, too.” She lied. 

That seemed to satisfy him enough to lose interest in questioning and go to the kitchen to browse for dinner. She sighed with relief. That was so close! It was the smell of sex that oozed out of her every pore, but Sam, not anticipating anything like that taking place couldn’t quite put his finger on it. 

She couldn’t sleep that night. Despite the relief that she had given herself while talking to Guy on the computer, her body remained aroused and the unseasonable heat of the Indian summer didn’t make it any better. She tossed and turned, trying to force herself to catch some sleep. The last time she glanced at the clock was almost four in the morning and two hours later the alarm went off, jerking her out of uneasy dream. 

She drove to work, still in the state of high arousal, thinking of Guy and whenever she pictured the words ‘Come now, come with me….’ on her computer monitor, she felt as if somebody had punched her in the stomach. She was ashamed and yet exhilarated. She had never done anything like this before. In fact, she used to smirk over the stories of Internet affairs that people led, always finding them distasteful and pathetically desperate. Of course, that morning she believed this had been a one-time occurrence never to be repeated. 

She returned home that evening, after a day from hell at work, coupled by her body’s insistent refusal to calm itself down, she found Guy waiting for her on the instant messenger. 

‘Give me your number.” He wrote and a voice of panic in the back of her mind told her not to be stupid and give in to his demands. 

‘You have to promise you won’t abuse it.’ She begged, all the while thinking that this was far from any kind of rationality she was always so good at exercising. Guy reassured her he would never do such a thing. After all, they were both married. There was a lot at stake, he would never call her unless she told him it was okay and the coast was clear. A pang of guilt stabbed at her. She ignored it.

Despite her better judgment, she typed in the number, with Sam lounging on the bed only inches away from her, watching television. 

‘Wait five minutes, I’ll take dogs for a walk.’ She added. 

Outside, the humidity had given way to soft breeze and each stroke of cool lick made her shiver in discomfort. It has been more than a day since Guy had aroused her with his words on the computer screen and her body still did not lose any of its sexual heat. She would not have believed that something like that was possible, but she was a living proof. She was also an example of how uncomfortable and almost painful it is for every fiber in one’s body to be itching and pulsating for one thing and one thing alone.