Women in Lust (11 page)

“Wow,” her doctor friend said, when Brooke confessed the change. “That’s your testosterone talking. Now you know how men feel.”

“Not men,” Brooke corrected. “Boys. Fifteen-year-old boys who haven’t yet learned how to tame their hormones. A middle-aged mother is not supposed to be acting that way!”
Especially with carrots,
she thought.

“Consider yourself lucky,” her friend said. “Most women who come to my office complain about their lack of libido. Embrace it while you can!”

So Brooke brought her lust into bed with her husband, Calvin. He welcomed it and gave her what she needed when he could. But they had two young children and busy lives that didn’t allow him to be her sex slave twenty-four hours a day. She worked off the sexual energy at the gym, where her fat disappeared and her muscles grew. Soon even her minivan and earthy nature couldn’t hide that instinctual drive to attract men. For the first time in her life, she began to wear makeup, frequent the hair salon, and buy new, more feminine clothing.

And more and more often, she wondered: What if one of those men actually responded to her longing? Would she—
could she
—hold herself back from someone new, someone, unlike her husband, she hadn’t been with for twelve years now? And if not, would it finally satiate her desire?

 

One Friday, Brooke bought a new dress for a party that night—her friend’s fortieth birthday, Brooke noted, chuckling to herself. The material of the sheer black dress clung to her palm-sized breasts, firm tummy and tight ass. The low-cut V-neck exposed more of her chest than she usually allowed. It showed
off her best features: long neck, strong shoulders and biceps, the perfect sweep of her collarbone, and a birthmark that beckoned from the top of her cleavage like an invitation to explore the vacant space between her breasts. The material was so thin, her lacy black bra showed through in certain light, and she had to wear a G-string or the lines would look tacky. When the dress was paired with a colorful pendant and flowing shawl, Brooke knew she looked stunning.

After getting ready for the party, she came into the kitchen to wait for the babysitter. When Calvin saw her, he did a double take. His lustful gaze took in every inch of her body. “Whoa,” he breathed.

“Is it too much?” Brooke asked innocently, putting her hands on her hips.

He stepped closer and traced the V-neck of her dress. His other hand wandered down her back and onto her rear. “It depends how soon I can get you into bed.”

Suddenly, the doorbell rang, and the kids came screaming into the room. Calvin leaned into her ear and whispered, “Later,” then gave her a kiss on the cheek and turned away. His quick gesture left her body humming with anticipation.

At the party, Calvin found a group of men talking politics while Brooke settled into a gaggle of fellow first-grade parents. She soon noticed the wandering eyes of men and women alike, flitting down, then up, then down the length of her body as though pulled by a magnet, igniting her insides with the tingly heat of being wanted. She knew it wasn’t likely that
everyone
at the party lusted after her, but there was no stopping her naughty mind from lingering on the fantasy.

At one point, she glanced around the room and saw Kyle, a fellow preschool parent from a few years back. She’d always found him very attractive: cropped salt-and-pepper hair, bright
blue eyes and prominent cheekbones. It had been at least two years since she’d seen him, and now, unlike before she’d turned forty, her entire body responded with an exquisite ache. She suddenly imagined his mouth leaving a trail of kisses on her neck—instinctually knowing to skip her wildly ticklish collarbone—then across her breasts and down her belly, until finally he reached her navel and…

Brooke squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head free of the image before she made a fool of herself. When she opened them, Kyle was looking right at her.

She smiled and waved meagerly, a bead of sweat forming on the back of her neck. He tilted his head, brow stitched as though trying to figure out who she was.
Great, he probably thinks I’m flirting with him now
, she thought, then brought her attention back to the group.

A minute later, he was by her side. “Brooke?”

She nodded, smiling. “You didn’t recognize me.”

“Hell, no!” On cue, his gaze wandered up and down her body. “Did you lose weight or something?”

“Just getting to the gym more,” she explained.

“Well, it’s working. You look great!”

Brooke glanced around the room for Kyle’s wife, Jane. “I’m surprised to see you here,” Brooke said. “How do you know the birthday girl?”

“I work with her.” Kyle locked eyes with Brooke for so long she had to look away, embarrassed.

“So…is Jane here?”

“Yeah, she’s somewhere around…” His gaze swept the room. “Not sure where.” He glanced at Brooke’s nearly empty glass. “Can I get you more wine?”

“Sure,” Brooke replied, thinking she could use another drink with all this attention.

He was back soon with two drinks, one for her and one for him. They wedged their way back into the group and chatted and drank for another hour. Every so often, Brooke would catch Kyle’s gaze. He would tilt his head and smile, or furrow his brow at her as though trying to figure something out. He always managed to bring the conversation back to her, and when her glass was empty again, he refilled it.

Once, Brooke saw Calvin across the room, cornered by one of their more annoying friends.
I should go rescue him
, Brooke thought. Then she caught Kyle’s eye, their glances now turning into long, lingering looks full of innuendo, and decided against it.

She didn’t realize just how tipsy she was until she was laughing so hard at a joke that she had to grasp Kyle’s shoulder to stay upright and she almost peed in her pants. “I’m going to the bathroom,” she announced, then veered away, surreptitiously holding the wall as she went down the hallway. When she found the bathroom already occupied, she wandered up the stairs and to another one, vaguely aware that her body was acting more quickly than she was thinking.

Peeing was almost an orgasm in itself. Her body was already on fire from all those sweeping glances and thoughts of Kyle’s bare chest. She spread her legs wider and fingered her wet nub, hoping for a quick release.

Someone cleared his throat outside the bathroom. She froze, listened again and heard more sounds of a person waiting. Reluctantly, she stopped touching herself and finished up in the bathroom.

When she opened the door, Kyle was in the hallway. He moved toward her so suddenly it caused Brooke to step back quickly, knocking her off-kilter. Kyle caught her, held her shoulders and gently led her backward into the bathroom.

He closed the door behind them and stepped so close she
could taste the wine on his breath. He reached up and fondled her pendant. “This is gorgeous. Is it Murano glass?”

Brooke’s breath came in short gasps. She felt her nipples harden just knowing how close his hands were to them. “Yes. How did you know?”

“I’ve been to Venice,” he replied, rubbing his thumb across its smooth surface.

“With Jane?” It came out before she could think, but she knew why. She wanted to snap him out of this weird little moment so she wouldn’t have to say no. Because she wasn’t sure she could.

He let the pendant drop. “Yes, with Jane.”

Brooke thought she’d succeeded in making him back off. But instead, he took a step closer and pressed his leg between her thighs.

Brooke swallowed, trying hard to keep her mind on her husband rather than on the intense burning between her legs.
Calvin, Calvin, Calvin,
she thought to herself.
The man I’ve loved for twelve years. My lover, my best friend. Calvin.
She closed her eyes to get a picture of him in her mind: that pale, angelic face; those deep forest green eyes that had drawn her in the moment they met.

The knee between her thighs pressed harder, brushing against her groin, sending a wave of electricity from her belly to her throat. Despite all her efforts to resist, she leaned her head back and moaned.
This is it,
Brooke thought.
This is the fantasy I’ve had for the past year—some hot guy finding me so irresistible he can’t keep his hands off me.

Then Brooke felt something soft flutter against her collarbone, tickling her so intensely her hand flew up to scratch it. Instead of reaching her chest, she clocked the side of Kyle’s head. “Oh, sorry!” Brooke giggled.

A look of irritation swept over Kyle’s face, then disappeared. He leaned in to kiss her chest again, but Brooke’s hands were on his shoulders before he could make the same mistake twice.

“Wait,” she muttered, halfheartedly pushing him away. All that strength training and for what? She was melting right into a near-stranger’s arms, nothing more than a sleazy, cheating bastard who didn’t even know about her ticklish spot. Maybe that’s all she was, too—a slut who’d do anything to get off. Would Calvin forgive her if she blamed it on the alcohol? On a thoughtless moment, her out-of-control hormones? A very convincing voice in her head told her to go for it, she deserved this: her dream come true after all these months of testosterone overload driving her to near insanity.
You’re forty. You might never get this chance again. Live a little!

Kyle leaned in to her ear and whispered, “Brooke. You are so hot.”

She remembered Calvin’s promise of “later” before the party, the look of genuine lust he still had for her. She knew he would never corner some random drunk woman, no matter how hot she looked. Calvin would never, ever cheat on Brooke. And yet, she knew in her heart that he would forgive her for cheating on him.

But Kyle wasn’t the one she wanted.

“Wait,” she said again, more confident this time. Her hands moved from his shoulders to his chest, and she pushed him firmly away.

He stepped back, pulling his knee away. Instantly, her lucidity returned.

“Kyle. We’re married. This doesn’t feel right.”

“It doesn’t?” he asked, coming toward her again.

She put up her hand. “No…well, yes. It feels…but no, I don’t want to do it.”

He put his hands in his pockets and took a step back, looking defeated. “That’s too bad. It would have been fun.” A smile snuck across his face, despite his clear attempt to look hurt. “If you ever change your mind, let me know, okay?” And then he left.

Brooke leaned against the wall for another minute, taking deep breaths, trying to slow her racing heart. She cupped her hands under the faucet and took a long drink of water. She patted her face and chest with a towel, took another deep breath, then left the bathroom to find Calvin and take him home.

 

The moment Brooke saw the babysitter’s taillights leave their driveway, she dragged Calvin to the couch—she didn’t think she could make it all the way to their bedroom. She removed her underwear in a slow striptease, watching his eyes grow wide with delight. When she began to slink out of her dress, Calvin said, “No, wait,” and pulled her on top of him. “I like this dress.” He traced the V-neck then dipped his fingers underneath it, inside her bra, teasing her nipple. She squealed with delight, relieved at how
right
it felt to be with Calvin and not Kyle.

Calvin caressed her body with his gaze, then settled on her eyes. “You are so hot,” he said.

“You’re not the first guy to say that to me tonight,” Brooke said easily. It even felt right to tell him the truth.

“Oh, really?” Calvin’s finger continued to circle her nipple, threatening to make her forget about honesty and just get on with the fun. “Who else?”

“Someone at the party. Kyle from the preschool. Remember him?”

Calvin shook his head. Brooke assumed he’d never actually met Kyle.

“Anyway…he made a pass at me.”

“What did he do?”

“He cornered me in the bathroom and stuck his knee in my groin.”

Calvin’s finger stopped circling. He moved his hand down her body, across her buttock, then brushed her labia with a finger. “You mean here?” he asked, his eyes twinkling.

She shuddered, the pressure in her belly unbearable. Within seconds, the bulge in his jeans grew hard. She pressed into it, her hungry pussy wanting to eat it up along with his fingers.

He pulled them away, back to her ass. “And then what happened?”

She sighed, desperate for his fingers to be back on her swollen clit. But she knew he deserved to hear more. She took a deep breath and tried to remember. “Well…he persisted for a while, and I was pretty drunk…I know that’s not an excuse, it just made it harder to stop him.”

“Stop him from doing what?” Calvin asked. His eyes sparkled with curiosity.

“From touching my chest, and…”

Calvin’s fingers slid between her legs, one of them dipping gently inside her, then spreading her warm juices around and around.

Brooke paused, her breathing ragged, uneven. “And kissing my collarbone, which you know I can’t stand.”

Calvin’s finger slid back inside her, then another, and another. Brooke pressed down into them, rocking back and forth, arching her body. Then, abruptly, he removed them.

“So what did you do?”

Brooke shuddered, moaning loudly. “Calvin…I need you now…”

He just stared at her, waiting.

“When I came to my senses, I told him to back off, that we’re both married and I didn’t want to cheat on you.” As she talked,
Brooke ground her hips into Calvin’s rock-solid bulge, then lifted her pelvis toward his warm mouth, that supple tongue she knew would make her come instantly.

Calvin just watched her, smiling wickedly. He slid his hands all the way up her sides to cup her breasts and pinch her taut nipples.

“Is that what you want? To have sex with another man?”

Brooke locked eyes with Calvin. He knew her better than any other man, sexually and in every other way. They’d made love thousands of times, and there was no way a fling with someone else would ever compare.