It was difficult to focus on the road. Caitlin wasn’t used to humming outside of the house. Every red light was a temptation to start the tickling. She was barely to the end of Coronado when she nearly pulled over and palmed fuck herself, but then thought that was stupid since home really wasn’t all that far. She had been feeling increasingly sexual over the last two months a day at a time, but this was the first time she felt anything close to downright nasty.
Caitlin had fucked herself daily for months. Difference now was that her bed and bath were both miles away. She had grown spoiled, able to take herself from arousal to satisfaction every weekday and most times — at least once — on weekends. Maybe that was why she couldn’t transfer her crackle to Jay — she was always getting satisfied without having to wait.
Maybe she was missing the anticipation, the having to wait; the magic of wanting him nearer; the swirl in her stomach as minutes fell from the clock. Hunger with weight. But the best sort. Like sipping your soup and knowing chocolate is later.
Caitlin felt alive, and wondered if that was how guys felt when they thought about sex, eight times an hour or however often it was. Big difference between men and women — if a guy got hard, he couldn’t just start jacking off. First of all his hardon showed, unlike a soaking pussy. Second of all, men left evidence. She imagined if she was as hot as she was right now, in Jay’s shoes at his desk, she would simply stand up, close the door, sit back down, spread her legs, dip her hand past the waistband of her panties, slip two, maybe three fingers inside her, then start sloshing until she was biting her lip and stifling a scream.
Her skin crackled as she thought of Jay, craving him more than usual. The light turned yellow in front of her, and though she could have sped through it, it was the last thing Caitlin wanted to do. She tapped her brake and slowed to the red. No longer able to control herself, or at least not caring if she did, her left hand stayed on the steering while her right slithered like a snake under her skirt, then past her panty’s elastic and up into her pussy.
Caitlin started stroking herself through the red light, not at all shocked by her gummy sticky yummy, though she was slightly surprised by the heat.
This is why women cheat.
If Caitlin felt like she did right now, with no Jay at home to love her, or an asshole who was little like the man she loved, married, and still loved 10 years later, who knew what temptations would worm through her life.
The light turned green and Caitlin accelerated, her right hand still lightly sloshing herself as her left steered through the intersection. If texting while driving was stupid, fucking yourself while driving was probably suicide.
Caitlin was looking for an edge, but didn’t want to fall over.
She pulled her hand from her pussy, brought it to her nose, and deeply inhaled. The scent made her want Jay more. With her left hand gripping the wheel and her pussy still urgently humming, she reached over to the passenger seat and fished her phone from her purse.
Caitlin texted Jay:
Her phone buzzed back, almost immediately.
Sure thing. What’s up?
Your cock in about 10 seconds.
Caitlin had tried sexting with Jay before, several times throughout the previous couple of months. But it had never really gone anywhere. Sure, it got them slightly hot and bothered. But it was never much more than flirting. This was immediately different. Caitlin couldn’t fuck him, but would cream all over his face if he was there.
Texts were traded fast and furious.
Jay: LOL, why are you so sexy lately?
Caitlin: Because you always make me wet.
Jay: Are you wet now?
Caitlin: Like a fucking river.
Jay: A river fucking is probably pretty wet.
Caitlin: Not wetter than me.
Jay: Are you so wet my cock would fall right out?
Caitlin: Maybe, but I would catch it with my mouth.
Jay: What else would you do?
Caitlin pulled to the side of the road, threw the car into park, moved her left hand from the steering wheel to her pussy, then used her right to text while she slipped two fingers inside her. She texted:
I would keep fucking you with my mouth until you were begging to cum inside it.
Jay: Would you let me?
Caitlin: Only the first time. But then I would stroke your cock until it was hard enough to fuck me fast.
Jay: OMG, Cay, I seriously have to go. I think UR gonna make me cum in my pants.
Caitlin: Why would you waste it in your pants when you could save it for my face?
Jay: OMG, what’s gotten into you? I’m so fucking hard right now.
Caitlin: You should jack off. I am.
Caitlin couldn’t believe what she was texting. There was something beautiful in the distance between them, giving her the chance to get nasty without his eyes mining her insecurities.
Jay sent his third OMG in a row.
OMG, Cay. I can’t. I have a meeting in a few minutes.
Caitlin: Come home and fuck me. Before the children get home.
Jay: I can’t.
Caitlin: Pretty please? With my cherry on top.
Too many seconds passed between texts. Caitlin smiled as she pictured Jay weighing the consequences of leaving early with some pending disaster with Insight on the horizon. She fucked herself faster while waiting, growing slightly nervous that someone might walk by, see her in the Pilot, and think she was casing the quiet street. But she wasn’t too nervous to stop. Jay buzzed again.
Impossible. But I’ll make it up to you 2nite.
Caitlin: My fingers are on in my pussy right now.
Jay: Stop it…
Caitlin: Do you wish you could smell them?
Caitlin: Do you wish you could suck them?
Caitlin was on fire. Do you wish you could lick my pink little pussy?
Jay: Yes. Then: I have to go.
Caitlin had to let him go, so she sent him one final text:
When you get home, do you promise to treat me like a whore?
Jay: OMG, YES!! So hard right now. Sorry. Have 2 go.
Jay disappeared, no texts after that, and left Caitlin to usher herself to orgasm alone in the front seat. After her body fell from its peak, she pulled a napkin from the bag with the whipped cream, wiped her fingers, then started the engine, pulled back out onto the street, and started toward home.
Caitlin’s climate controlled house felt too hot when she finally got home. She stripped to naked, got in the shower, scrubbed herself clean, brought herself to one more orgasm, then killed the water, stepped out of the shower, and dried herself off.
Staying naked, Caitlin quickly blitzed the house, preparing for her evening with Jay. She set up several candles in their bedroom and spilled her most playful of the three new pieces in a puddle on the bed. She straightened and vacuumed, strategically staying clear of the large open windows, enjoying her nudity, and the freedom it inspired. She stayed naked until she had to cook.
By the time the bus dropped the children outside, the house smelled like frying garlic and fresh carpet. The children poured in through the mudroom, each bringing an individual problem which seemed specifically designed to shatter her mood.
Hudson was upset that his best friend Dylan didn’t want to come over on Saturday like he promised, because the last time he came over Hudson lost one of his Lego Star Wars pieces, even though it totally wasn’t his fault. Max came into the room and played Godzilla through their Legos.
Alex was pissed because he was still in trouble for something from the week before. His teacher, Mrs. Robbins, told him he had to write an apology and have his parents sign it. He did, and Caitlin and Jay both added their John Hancock to the finished product, but Mrs. Robbins seemed unhappy with his response, saying that Alex didn’t really “own” the problem. Caitlin thought it was bullshit, but told Alex to go ahead and write a second letter anyway. Sometimes it was best to do what you were supposed to do because that was the way to get the best out of life.
Max was upset that Hudson was mad at him about the Lego piece. Caitlin told him he had two choices. One, get over it, or two, stop being annoying and messing with his brother’s stuff in the first place.
As they often did, small problems were treated as monumental then quickly bred more of the same. Within an hour Caitlin’s nerves were fraying to nothing as she waited for her husband, boyfriend, and lover to come home and fuck her into the delirium she had been waiting for since shortly after waking that morning.
She helped each of the boys with their homework while finishing dinner, getting three texts from Jay before finally hearing the garage door open nearly two hours after the bus brought the boys.
SO sorry baby. Running late.
Still running late. Be home soon.
“The house smells amazing,” Jay said, stepping through the door.
Caitlin smiled, holding a freshly opened bottle of Coppola high in the air. She poured him a glass to match her own and slid it across the kitchen bar. Jay took it, then turned from Caitlin to the living room where his three sons were quietly playing together.
“Wow,” he said. “Nasty texts, A great smelling dinner, and the children all sitting around in the living room playing a game.” He laughed. “I must have done something really right. Unless this is Heaven?”
Caitlin made a sound, a lot like a purr, then moved her eyes to his bulge. She crossed the kitchen, leaned in toward Jay, fogged his ear with her hot breath and whispered, “Tonight I’ll take you there myself,” while running her hand up and down his pant covered dick.
Caitlin parted her body from Jay’s. He held his wine glass up for a toast and she met it with a clink.
“How long until bedtime?” he asked.
Caitlin glanced at the stove clock. “Two hours and forty-seven minutes.”
Jay shook his head, laughing. “It’s gonna be a long three hours.”
“You’re telling me,” Caitlin smiled as they clinked their glasses again, then slowly got drunk.