3 Gibbs. Three forty five. Twenty third.
I read the text over again, the feeling of happiness of getting the text, ebbing though slowly.
Three Gibbs was restaurant that we called that so no one knew what we were talking about when ever they went through our text.
I scrolled up, and saw similar texts.
My life had gotten reduced to me living for these texts.
Texts from Jason.
I folded myself on my bed, and covered my face.
It had all started at Three Gibbs, when I was sitting at a corner in the restaurant, slowly sipping my tea. I noticed these cute family that sat about two tables from me but kept on with my business.
At different times, I felt someone looking at me, and whenever I turned, I saw the man, the father, looking at me, and not bothering to hide his gaze.
The second time I caught him looking at me, he winked, and that was probably the hottest thing that had happened to me in a while.
I decided to watch the family though slyly. It looked like they had just married. New couples, with a baby girl that looked two.
The man could not be more than thirty, and he was very good looking. He looked relaxed and free while his wife looked and acted rigid.
I felt a forbidden kind of pleasure at a married man hitting on me, and I reveled in the moment, knowing it would be over as soon as they left.
How wrong I was.
About two minutes after they left the door, the man came back in, and I let myself openly admire him. He introduced himself, told him his name, even told me that it was his family that was just there.
For a few days, we chatted harmlessly, until a night, when he asked me what I was wearing.
I felt hot all over at that, and this was probably the time when I should have chided him, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. It was hot. I hadn’t felt this sexy in a long while.
I told him what I was wearing, which was nothing, and his reaction to that was heady. He told me his wife was sleeping with the baby in another room, and while that made me feel so much guilt, it didn’t make me stop.
That was the first night Jason and I shared an orgasm.
After that, came more, so much more, and then, he decided for us to meet at an hotel. Catching up, he said.
Even as I felt guilty wearing those black sexy underwear, I was excited, and I knew what would happen, and it happened. The fact that I knew it was forbidden probably was what heightened the pleasure of being with him.
A married man.
It was almost two years now, and we had progressed. It wasn’t all sexual anymore. We were confidants of each other, and while he never said it, I knew he told me things he had never, and would never tell his wife.
But now, Jason had begun talking divorce. He said it was something he was already going to do even before he married her. He had married her only because he had gotten her pregnant and that was her condition. I wondered how a woman would do that. She was punishing him, having no idea she was punishing herself the most. He said the marriage done was only court marriage. No white wedding of any sort, and he had told her as soon as she gave her condition that it was only going to be a trial, and that if after one year it didn’t work out, there was going to be a divorce.
It was already going to four years now, and he was ready to divorce her. He had apparently stayed that long because of the child. He never said anything about getting married to me, but I knew it was only a while before he did that, and I couldn’t shake the guilt.
He said he was going to divorce her whether or not we got together, and while everything seemed so logical, I couldn’t help feeling I was the one that broke the marriage.
I read the text again and replied.
When you want to say no, but it feels like the right you’ve wanted since forever. The right that makes you feel the special that you’ve been craving.
Hi everyone, a short story here. Thank you for reading.
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