Taking Chances Pt. 2 - Sex Stories

Taking Chances Pt. 2

... facing Martin in ten minutes or so. Could she act normal, now that her life had suddenly changed? She wondered if she could live in the two realms of existence: her life with Martin and what might be her life with Tom? She was suddenly a wreck of emotions, trying to stay calm as she waited for Martin, wondering what she could fix him when he got home. She remembered the tuna casserole she’d made for dinner last night; there was still some left that she could microwave and she felt relieved it would not be much of a hassle to serve that. The teapot whistled and she poured the water over her mint tea bag, dunking it in and out as it brewed, then sighed, looking up at the clock again before taking the cup to the table. She savored the first sip just as the front door opened. “Hello, dear, I’m home,” he called then entered the kitchen. He put his briefcase down, and kissed her on the head in the same spot where he kissed her every night. “Hello, my love, how are you, how was your day? Anything exciting happen?” he asked while taking off his suit jacket and folding it neatly over the back of one of the kitchen chairs. “Is anything new?” he asked, not waiting for her to answer any of the previous questions. She often wondered if he really cared since those were the same questions he automatically asked every night when he came home, but she answered. “I’m fine. Nothing is new. Work was good, nothing special—an ordinary day,” she lied, holding down the excitement she felt, and ...

... trying to keep the ordinary realm of her marriage away from the new realm she had entered that day. “Would you like me to heat up the tuna casserole from last night?” “Yes, that would be nice. I’m hungry.” He sat down at the table and picked up the newspaper from the chair where he had left it at breakfast. Realizing that she was also hungry, she got up and took the casserole out of the refrigerator, placing it in the microwave. While it was heating up, she took two plates from the cabinet and brought silverware and napkins to the table, still feeling exhilarated, but appearing calm and efficient. After three minutes or so, she took the casserole from the microwave, prepared two plates with the tuna and noodles and brought them to the table, placing Martin’s in front of him. Then somehow, she bent down to kiss his head and gently touched his shoulder before sitting down across from him. “Thank you, dear.” He smiled at her, then picked up the newspaper and began reading, while she sat and looked at him, enjoying for a moment the comfort of their familiarity. She took a bite and looked at him reading and wished he would talk to her and not read the paper. She started to ask him to stop reading and talk to her, but hesitated. She didn’t want to have to ask him to be with her, to talk to her, to look at her. She wanted him to want to and it hurt like a thud on her heart to know he’d rather read. Then she remembered how passionate Tom was when he was writing in the park. How he’d ...