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BOUNCING BACK — CHAPTER THREE

Cathy was in shock. She closed her eyes tight shut and then looked at her phone again. The messages were still there. So was the selfie of Sarah in her new lingerie. Cathy felt part paralyzed, part energized, part like she was losing contact with reality. Then a little animated ellipsis appeared. It occurred to Cathy that she hadn’t replied. But maybe best to see what else Sarah had to say first.

The ellipsis vanished, and Cathy realized that she had been holding her breath. From outside, the sound of James complaining about something Mabel had done drifted indistinctly into the bathroom. Cathy noticed, almost like an external observer, that she was trembling.

Then the ellipsis returned. And Cathy jumped. ‘Get a grip, for fuck’s sake.’ She read Sarah’s message.

You still there? Too much? Sorry if it was too much 😬.

Cathy’s brain was racing. Sarah was giving her an opportunity. An opportunity to diffuse the situation. To step back from the brink. Surely she should take it. Wayne. The children. The sheer ridiculousness of her and Sarah. No, she was decided, best to stop this nonsense here, before anyone got hurt.

With new found resolve, Cathy began to type.

Sorry, busy with the kids. I think maybe we should…

She stopped, looked at the text, and deleted the final three words. It was as if she was now on autopilot as she tapped the screen feverishly.

…that would be amazing. When and where?

Cathy had pressed send already. As if part of her conciousness knew that the other part would scream ‘no’ if given the time to do so. She’d done it, cast the die. She breathed a long, quiet, “fuck!”

James was now screaming. Cathy flushed the toilet — for whose benefit was the deception? — and rapidly washed her hands.

“What is it, Jamie? Can’t you give me five minutes to myself?” Cathy realized that she was taking out her own angst on her son, and felt crap about it. She scooped the young boy up and cuddled him.

“Hey, Mom! Put me down. Eew!”

The pleasures of parenthood, she thought. And then her phone vibrated and nothing else seemed to matter.

Cool 😊. Maybe we could find somewhere private at my work tomorrow? Alyssa can watch Mabel and James 😘

Cathy’s heart was doing its best to break through her ribcage. She was no longer just trembling, she was shaking. It was hard to type a reply. She kept looking at the final emoji in Sarah’s message.

Sure. I’ll find something nice to wear as well 😘

She sent it and then collapsed on to the couch, a total mess of twisting, turning emotions. One idea coursed through her head: ‘Shit! What have I done?’

But, deep inside, Cathy’s overwhelming feeling was neither terror nor regret. It was surging, pent up desire

Her phone buzzed again and Cathy tremulously opened the message.

Hey, babe. Date night tonight? I might have bought you something sexy ❤️

Cathy didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. But she decided she’d do her best to play along with whatever Wayne wanted. Even if her motivation was more guilt than arousal.

Something, something Cathy wasn’t too sure she was comfortable to even acknowledge, was growing in her. Was it a frisson of excitement about the idea of an affair? Of leading a double life? Of having feelings she thought were buried deep in the past? Or just of not being her boring self for once? She knew it was childish, but also that the idea felt gloriously wicked. Wicked sounded good to Cathy.

Then Jamie started hitting Mabel, and Cathy’s only concern was to separate the pair and to restore some semblance of calm.

+ + + + +

Friday night had been… Well maybe awkward was the word. On the plus side, the lingerie that Wayne had bought for Cathy didn’t make her feel like either a hooker, or a whale. She’d been expecting crotchless polyester in some gaudy shade, what she got was tasteful and silky and pale pastel. On the minus side, Wayne’s main concern had been to get the garments off his wife as quickly as possible.

He’d at least made an effort. Prolonged cunnilingus hadn’t been in Wayne’s repertoire for years, but his attempts at oral stimulation were more enthusiastic than expert. Cathy had been reduced to faking an orgasm, as lengthy exposure to Wayne’s rather rough tongue had been abrading her tender flesh. But she acknowledged that he had tried.

However, the further downside was that the process had clearly turned Cathy’s husband on much more than it had her. Wayne couldn’t have lasted more than thirty seconds, perhaps — erroneously — believing that his wife had already climaxed. Cathy didn’t know that her acting skills were that good.

Wayne rolled off of her, panting. “That was the best.” And then, more plaintively. “Was it good for you?”

Cathy responded with a less than enthusiastic, “uh-huh,” which seemed to satisfy Wayne, who then turned over and promptly fell asleep.

Once Üçyol travesti she was sure that her husband was fully comatose, Cathy made for the bathroom and her vibrator. Her phone in one hand, she gazed at Sarah’s taut body encased in see-through burgundy, until she had to close her eyes to deal with the throbbing orgasm that thundered through her.

Crawling back into bed, as quietly as she could, Cathy trembled at the thought that she would be seeing Sarah in just a few hours. Maybe seeing quite a lot of her.

+ + + + +

Cathy’s alarm went off. She’d expected to wake early, so excited had she been about what the day might bring, but no. Perhaps Wayne, or more likely her toy, had worn her out.

Time to get herself organized, thought Cathy, and then the kids. First things first, a shower. Wayne was still asleep, he had an uncanny ability to snore through the loudest of wake up chimes. Cathy decided to get dressed in the bathroom. Surreptitiously she gathered the lingerie that her husband had bought her. She felt guilty, but it was nicer than anything else she could still fit into, and she liked how it looked on her. She locked the door and let the water warm up.

Soaping herself, Cathy couldn’t help but think about Sarah’s touch. Still she wondered, what did her new friend want? How far did she want to go? Was there any chance this was all some elaborate joke? There was an unreal quality to the whole thing. These thoughts rather put a damper on the arousal that had been building in Cathy. Now feeling unsure and even a little worried, she finished washing and toweled herself dry.

Her mood improved significantly when she put on her new lingerie. Something about it was magical, like it accentuated everything that Cathy was happy about, and deemphasized the rest. She toyed with the idea that Wayne had met a wandering demon and sold his soul for these transformative garments.

Cathy told herself that she had always had a florid imagination. She fervently hoped that it was not this that was getting her carried away about Sarah. More than happy with her underwear, Cathy put on a floaty summer dress and gave a twirl in the mirror. Maybe she wasn’t so bad after all.

A noise broke into her musings. Childish voices raised, which was more than could be said for Wayne. Grabbing some shoes, she adopted her all too frequent blue helmet role. Apparently Jamie had woke early as normal, felt bored and gone and roused his less than impressed sister. Cathy having negotiated a temporary armistice, Mabel went back to bed, and James demanded feeding. Same old same old.

+ + + + +

As they got into the minivan, Mabel looked quizzically at her mother. “Mom, why are you wearing a dress? Aren’t you going to bounce with us?”

Cathy had been prepared for this. “I’m a little tired today, and I have something I need to discuss with Sarah about our membership. You remember Sarah, right?”

“The woman with the blue bathing suit on your phone?” This from James.

“No,” said Cathy firmly and inaccurately, “the kind lady who helped me when I fell.”

“You’re so stupid, don’t you remember Sarah?” Mabel was not always the most understanding of big sisters.

“Not as stupid as you.” The boy’s face was a picture of deep annoyance.

Before a full-scale fight could break out, Cathy pointed out that she was very happy to not go — yet another lie! — if the pair of them didn’t settle down. For once, that seemed to do the trick and Cathy got into the car, wondering which circle of Hell was reserved for moms who lied to their children, and planned to cheat on their husbands. Maybe it was more than one, and she’d be put on some sort of rota.

Still, Cathy’s excitement and trepidation both exceeded her guilt, and she was silent for the short drive, focussed mostly on avoiding a distracted fender bender.

When the trio reached the trampoline park, Alyssa and Sarah were both waiting for them. The kids seemed delighted at the prospect of spending time with Alyssa, and Mabel was already asking her where she got her nose ring and whether it hurt. As Sarah’s friend departed with James and Mabel, she winked once at her colleague, and then smirked at Cathy.

Cathy felt her cheeks burning. “Did you…? Does she…?”

“Don’t worry about that,” smiled Sarah, “follow me. And that dress looks lovely on you, by the way.”

The older woman was now blushing deep red. But she took Sarah’s proffered hand and — tingles running through her body — walked with her friend to the room where the comp trampolines were housed.

Sarah closed the door behind them and slotted a bolt into place. At the noise, Sarah suddenly felt she couldn’t breathe. This was real, this was happening. Did she want it? What on Earth was she doing? The room spinning around her, Cathy made for a row of fold up seats and half fell onto one of them, panting and doubled over. For a minute or so, she feared that she Üçyol travestileri might vomit.

Sarah sat beside Cathy, put an arm around her, and whispered. “It’s OK. I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s all OK. We can just sit… if you would prefer. I just… I had mentioned privacy… I thought…”

Cathy turned her head, still bent forward, and smiled weakly at her friend. “No, I should be sorry. It’s just… I’ll be honest, it had felt like a fantasy… this… whatever this is. It just… suddenly it was real. But… I… kinda want it to be real. Can you… just… give me a minute. I’ve never…”

“It’s OK, Cathy. It’s all OK. Let’s just sit.”

That sounded like a good idea to Cathy. But… something was stirring in her. Something that started small, barely imperceptible, but she could feel growing. It was actually two things, mounting frustration at her apprehension, and a surging and profound desire to kiss the younger woman.

Cathy sat up, Sarah was still close, her arm still wrapped around the older woman’s shoulder. And then Cathy somehow found the courage to do what she had wanted to do from the point when she had first seen Sarah.

She kissed the younger woman’s lips. Not for long, not with pressure. Just a brief brush. And then Cathy looked into Sarah’s eyes, expecting shock, expecting disgust, anticipating rejection.

Instead what she saw was a softening and a melting of Sarah’s face into a sweet smile. “That was nice. I’ve wanted you to do that for so long. Would you do it again, please?”

Sarah’s words changed something in Cathy. It wasn’t as if her doubts and worries disappeared, they just kinda receded into the background, became less relevant. Marriage? Parenthood? Those were still things. But things to think about another time. Cathy’s universe became simple. Here was a beautiful and smart and sexy young woman who she wanted, and who — for some unaccountable reason — also wanted her. Nothing else mattered.

When they kissed again, neither held back any longer, their pent up passion pouring out. Hands grasped and pulled, lips pressed so firmly, tongues battled and yielded, then fought again. All accompanied by sighs and moans and rising intensity.

Then Sarah pushed back, breathless. “Wow!” For a few moments she collected herself. “Listen, I want more, Cathy. But not here. It’s my work, your kids are here. I think we maybe need to go someplace, like really soon. But…”

And here Sarah first grinned then looked almost shy. “But… I did promise you something.”

Cathy’s eyes widened as Sarah stood, and pulled her hoody over her head. Though the older woman had seen both her friend’s taut body and lacy bra before, there was a difference between photos and in person. Seeing the reaction that she was provoking, Sarah dropped her sweat pants and stepped out of them.

She looked at Cathy, her head lowered, and eyes raised, biting on her bottom lip. The older woman simply gawped, drinking in the intoxicating vision of a toned and youthful athlete. A little wistfully, she recalled looking something like that once.

Then Sarah was speaking, but her words seemed somehow muted and barely audible. “Did you say that you’d worn something special as well?”

It took a while for the question to register. Then, as if in a dream, Cathy too stood and began to unbutton the front of her dress. Her heart was pounding and her chest heaving. She felt for each fastening, her eyes still locked with Sarah’s. With the last one undone, Cathy eased the garment off of her shoulders.

The two women simply looked at each other, eyes unashamedly traversing the other’s body, not in lasciviousness, but in wonder and appreciation. Then Sarah finally spoke.

“You look amazing. I want to kiss you again. But I know I won’t be able to hold back. And not here. Would you… would you like to maybe just… I dunno… bounce a bit?”

Cathy burst out laughing. “You just want to see my boobs wobble, right? OK, let’s do it.”

The two women scrambled onto the trampoline, got to their feet, and interlocked hands. Then, in perfect synchronicity, they began to bounce. At first gently, but then with increasing vigor and height. And laughing, laughing out loud for sheer joy.

Their time like this wasn’t long, maybe five minutes, maybe ten, but the looks they exchanged, the pleasure each simply took in the other’s company, were precious. Cathy felt emotions welling up, ones that she barely remembered. Her head was light, her body felt warm.

Then, without any word being spoken, both decided it was time. Their oscillations abated and the pair clambered down to the ground.

Sarah went as far as to kiss Cathy’s cheek, but dared no more. “Cathy, just tell me a time and place. I’ll be there, OK?”

Cathy nodded, “I need to check my phone about a time. But Monday? I don’t think I can wait any longer. A hotel maybe, it might be awkward me coming to your place.”

A big Travesti üçyol smile appeared on Sarah’s face. “Monday it is. It’s a date. And I mean a date. Send me the details when you have figured them out.”

With that, they both got dressed and Cathy tried to compose herself enough to go find her kids. She felt like singing, though experience taught her this was unlikely to be well-received by anyone unfortunate enough to be in earshot.

A final hand squeeze, and Sarah unbolted the door, returning them to the real world from their shared sensual realm.

+ + + + +

Cathy had assumed that she would spend the rest of the weekend as a nervous wreck, but it didn’t work out that way. Instead she felt a calm detachment. With a little amusement, she was reminded of Kirsten Dunst’s character in Melancholia, becoming ever more serene as Armageddon approaches.

It wasn’t even as if she was excited, more a train traveling on tracks with no choice as to its route, and no ability to alter the destination. Overall, Cathy was collected. She was tolerant of the kids’ peccadilloes and squabbles. She initiated intimacy with Wayne, even enjoying it more than the last time. She was a good mom and a good wife.

Maybe it was dissociation. Maybe Cathy felt she had set her compass and would stay the course. Maybe she’d simply gone a little crazy. Whatever the reason, the weekend passed with surprising tranquility.

Cathy’s aura of harmony was not even punctured by her realization, on Monday morning, that today was the day. She showered early, before the kids were awake. As today was special, she changed the head on her razor, and made sure her legs were silky. As she checked her work, Cathy imagined Sarah’s hands caressing her limbs.

It had been a while since Cathy had had the time to visit a salon and things were a little unruly down there. She did her best to make herself more presentable with scissors and the razor. Assessing herself in the mirror, Cathy thought it would have to do. And then thoughts of being naked like this with Sarah flooded her mind. Closing her eyes, Cathy ran her fingers through her shorter hair and downwards. Sarah’s tongue, Sarah’s tongue touching her just there. It was so delicious an idea.

She composed herself, it would be soon enough. Cathy picked out her favorite dress, and slipped it on, smoothing its sides over her hips. For once, she spent a little time making her hair nice, applying a touch of make-up. Right, she was as ready as she ever would be. She told herself that everything would be OK, not fully believing her own words.

The kids had been cooperative for a change, and Cathy stood with them, waiting for the bus to their summer camp. When it arrived, she waved goodbye cheerily, their faces pushed against the windows, and then got into the minivan.

Cathy’s hand shook slightly as she typed the hotel’s address into her phone and she then followed Google Map’s instructions automaton-like. But it was only when she had parked discretely a block away that the enormity of the situation fully hit her. And then, she sat in the driver’s seat hyperventilating for what seemed like hours.

Cathy thought about driving home. She thought about Mabel and James. She briefly thought about Wayne. Even her parents flitted across her mind. She considered her own mental health, maybe she just needed help. Running out of things to stress about, Cathy opened the car door and purposefully walked towards the hotel, trying to control her breathing.

The place was nice, not over the top, not exclusive, but solid, and — importantly — a little off the beaten path. Cathy confirmed the reservation, and the early check in, with reception, being given a key card, with one left behind the desk for collection. Heart still in her mouth, she made for the elevators and thus the third floor.

The room was also nice. Large, well appointed, and adorned with fresh flowers rather than the sad plastic ones often seen in lesser establishments. Cathy wondered whether to strip to her underwear, the same she had worn on Saturday, now freshly laundered, but chickened out. Instead she called room service and ordered a bottle of Pinot Grigio and two glasses, she could sense the disapproval generated by such a request at 10am on a Monday.

She was early, and settled down to wait. When room service knocked, she gratefully accepted the bottle and poured herself a glass. Anything to calm her raging nerves. Cathy had time to take just one gulp before her phone beeped and the message told her that Sarah was about to be dropped off.

The five minutes between receiving the message and Sarah opening the door with her keycard felt like an eternity. When the lock whirred, Cathy rushed to embrace the younger woman, tears in her eyes. And then things became a blur, a blur of kisses, and hands fumbling with clothing, and the pair knocking against furniture. Cathy just caught the second wine glass before it tumbled.

Cathy fell back on the bed, her dress partly open, and with Sarah on top of her. Their kissing now was feral, both overcome with desire. Sarah licked Cathy’s neck, and the older woman pushed her head back into the covers, exposing her yearning flesh to Sarah’s lips and teeth.

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