Page 18 of Hotwife
Opening my personal phone, I pulled up Desmond’s contact. My eyes focused in on his number until my heart was fluttering at just digits on a screen. God, I was insane.
My thumb became possessed and pressed the camera icon next to the chat box. Then suddenly my arms were inhabited by the same demon and I pulled off my shirt. My heartbeat raced as I extended my arm, looking at my breasts in full, pixilated display through the phone’s camera. He basically told me he wanted to see me topless when we first met in the gym, right? Fusia swatched my cheeks, my red hair curly and wild, splayed on the white bed behind me like a basket of spilt berries. My soft stomach and pale skin so white only broken up by imperfect ruddy freckles. My tits, though? Voluptuous, womanly, sexy.
Without thinking, because clearly, my thinking-brain was at the bottom of a box of egg rolls in the living room.
I hit send.
seven
13 MONTHS AGO
Smoky, earthy aromas of sage lingered in the stale office air. Tiffany always saged the room between clients. I figured she’d need to light a Christmas tree on fire to have enough smoke to rid the room of the energy Cedric and I brought in. She asked if we’d done our homework, and I lied and said yes. My husband didn’t correct me. Rather, he sat back with one ankle propped on his knee, his confident presence the centerpiece between giant, leafy ferns.
“I think we’re at a stalemate here, guys.” Tiffany sat her notebook on her lap, peering at us over thick red rimmed glasses.
Stalemate.
“Are you saying you can’t help us?” Cedric questioned, pulling his gaze from the drizzly window.
“Probably not, not on this issue. I can only help couples if change is an option. As it stands, Dolly, you have sexual needs and desires that deserve attention. Cedric, you’ve stated that you are not in a place to provide those things to your wife.”
I reached a hand over to Cedric’s leg, and he flinched. That bid to comfort him rejected, like a million other attempts before.
“Dot, I understand if this isn’t something you want anymore. You’re in your early twenties and I’m nearing fifty. I can’t ask you to-”
Shaking my head, I interrupted. “No, don’t even finish that sentence. I love you and I’m not leaving. I married you knowing you were older.”
Cedric’s jaw tensed, but his shoulders relaxed in relief.
“There are other options…” Tiffany cut in, her eyes darting between us inquisitively. “You could open your marriage up to other sexual partners.”
My mouth dropped, but when I looked to Cedric his face remained impassive. “Could you expand on what that may look like?” My husband asked and I gasped.
“Ced, you can’t be serious?”
Our therapist gave me an understanding look before answering my husband. “I’ve counseled many couples who have implemented unconventional solutions to solve sexual differences. In your case, your trauma, and maybe your age, too, is preventing you from sex with your wife. Yet, regardless, sexual intimacy remains something that Dolly needs to feel fulfilled in her life. What I’m suggesting is, maybe you could both have an open mind.”
“I could be fine with you sleeping with other men, Dot. We’d have to set some rules for your safety and to protect our relationship-”
“Absolutely not!” I stomped my foot like a child. “No, this is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“What about that idea upsets you, Dolly?” My therapist asked so calmly. Yeah, she would be calm. Her husband wasn’t pimping her out to other dudes.
“This isn’t what a marriage should be. He should be the one in my bed, not other guys.”
Tiffany nodded. “I understand. Perhaps take this week to dissect that should a bit more. Who says every marriage needs to look the same? What makes you think this couldn’t work?”
Rolling my eyes, I stood, grabbing my purse. “I’m getting some air. Why don’t you two work out my sex life while I’m gone and just let me know what you come up with.”
Okay, I was being dramatic, maybe. But the whole point of these three months of therapy was to work through this. To fix him. To fix us. Not to find some creative solution to me getting laid. The suggestion was ridiculous, and I wondered how Tiffany came so highly recommended by Cedric’s hospital.
Standing outside in the cool, soggy air, I leaned against the stone building. People on the sidewalk passed me by without a glance. After a few minutes, Cedric’s warmth radiated next to me as he pulled out a box I hadn’t seen in a while. He took a deep inhale and offered it to me. Accepting, I let the nicotine hit my lungs and soothe out a couple of my wrinkled nerves.
“I think you should do it, Dot,” his timbre breaking the silence between passing cars.
“Sleep with other men?” I took another drag before handing his cigarette back.
He blew his smoke into the street. “Tiffany says the kids call it being a Hotwife.”