Uncaged - Sex Stories

Uncaged

... she said, in a more conciliatory tone. “No worries.” She walked the final ten metres to the bus stop and sat on the now-empty seat. The man sat beside her. “Missed the bus?” His voice was warm and understanding. “Same here. Where are you headed?” “Parkview,” Isla said shortly. “Near the airport? That’s where I’m going. To the airport, I mean.” Isla leaned against the cheap, reinforced plastic and sighed. Up the street, the crowd around the homeless woman was breaking up and some people were handing her money. She reached into her purse and texted Jeff to let him know she’d be late. “Are you going overseas?” she asked. The man glanced sideways sharply as if surprised she was talking to him. “Yep.” “Anywhere special?” He shrugged. “Wherever’s cheapest.” “You mean you don’t know where you’re going?” Isla frowned. “No. That’s half the fun, don’t you think?” “I wouldn’t know,” she said. “I’ve never really gone abroad.” “Never? Didn’t you go on a honeymoon?” Isla started and then figured her wedding band was a giveaway. She curled her fingers up and looked at him uncertainly. He smiled. “I was only looking at your hand to see if you hurt it when you fell. Sorry about that by the way.” “It wasn’t your fault.” Isla said automatically. “I wasn’t looking. Just in a rush to get home.” She smiled. “It’s my wedding anniversary.” It made her feel almost proud to share the occasion with a complete stranger. “Five years.” “Well, congratulations,” the man said. “Who’s the lucky guy?” She ...

... shot him a look. “I grew up with him. Same school, same college, it was kind of inevitable. Childhood sweetheart sort of thing. And I’m the lucky one. He’s perfect.” “I’d say he’s pretty lucky too. The rush you were in to get home? You must really love him.” “Of course I do,” Isla said, almost affronted. “He’s my husband.” “Of course. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean any offence.” The stranger extended a hand. “I’m Heath, if you were wondering.” “I’m not offended. And I’m Isla. Though it hardly matters since we’re never going to see each other again.” She took his hand and he held on even after they’d shook to examine the graze on the heel of her palm. She let her bag drop to the floor, clutching tightly onto the strap with her spare hand. A tall woman with a severe haircut joined them at the bus stop, her fingers tapping away at her phone. An overweight pigeon waddled by, eyes scouring the sidewalk for its next snack. Isla wondered if Heath was noticing her bitten-down fingernails and decided she’d have to paint them. She wondered what Jeff would surprise her with. Her mind flitted with possibilities and she smiled as she remembered the gift she’d bought for him, secreted away in the kitchen cupboard. Cufflinks. Same as every year but still special somehow. It added some sense of class to their cheap one-bed apartment existence. There was something intrinsically satisfying about pretending to be rich, about walking out of a concrete tenement in an expensive outfit. Little things. It ...