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When my husband left me, saying he has fallen in love with another, I felt numb. I couldn’t believe it. But, I had no time to wallow in the pain I felt. I had two kids now to take care of, alone, full-time. I decided a part-time job, along with the job I already had was the answer. I could do it at home as well. Piano lessons had always brought me joy. I let it slip as the children got older, focusing more on them. *** Now it is a year later, my husband is now my ex, my kids are stable, happy teenagers. And I’ve found a balance of work and trying to have a social life again. A few of my friends have introduced me to online dating, not that I’ve taken it to the step of actually meeting anyone in person. But, I’m not completely against it either.”Mum? Earth to the mother-ship! Ma!?” Josephine, my daughter, yanks me out of my day dream. “What, huh, oh, I’m sorry, sweetheart. What did you say?” I continue to make my lunch, as I focus on her babbling before getting to the point. “You promised, remember. You’re still going to make the cupcakes for cheer squad, right?” My beautiful, blonde haired, blue eyed daughter looks at me. She is a few inches taller than me, I expect her to grow a few more inches before shes at full height. She looks just like her father in every way. She’s just sixteen, though she’s been through a lot, she’s the light of my life. Always positive, refuses to let anyone drag her down. Even through the divorce, she stood beside me, supporting me. Josephine refuses to speak or have any contact with her father. Thankfully he doesn’t push it either. Though they were close, two peas in a pod kind of close, while she was growing up. “Of course. But thank you for reminding me. I’m going to swing by the store right after work. You need them at what, eight, you said?” “Yeah. You’re the best mum!” She says this wrapping her arms around me, hugging me tightly. “Wow, listen to you sucking up,” Jasper, my oldest walks into the kitchen to catch the tale end of our conversation. He too is tall like his father, but the looks stop there. Everything else is all me. Black hair, steel gray eyes, far too skinny for our own good. Though he works out, to add some muscle onto his lean body. He was picked on a lot when he was younger. Now that he is seventeen, he cares less, but still keeps fit. He is my more moody, dark child. Though he and Christopher (my ex husband) were never all that close, he feels abandoned by him. “Not even, Jasper. Don’t start with me. I’m in a good mood today,” Josephine retorts. “Aren’t you always, you have like a pocket full of sunshine at all time,” he says between mouthfuls of apple. “You should try getting some of your own.” I watch them go back and forth, not getting in between or taking sides. I have learned to let them battle it out on their own. Unless someone gets hurt, which has, thankfully never gotten that far. But, it could happen, they are siblings after all. They were really close growing up, we all were in our own ways. Though we were never the Cleavers. By the time we are in the car to go to school and work, they’re giggling and talking about the school dance in a few weeks. It doesn’t take much for them to forget silly arguments. Once they’re dropped off, I exhale, taking a moment of silence before getting into work. I even shut off the radio, listening to the sound of the tires hitting the pavement and the occasional car zoom by. My job is far from glamorous as one would think, I’m the receptionist at a radio station, but it pays well enough. The people I work with are also great. It’s a rather small station, we have about twenty employees at any given time, not including the boss and manager. Meaning, everyone knows everyone, and their business. Thankfully, there isn’t any drama or catty work relationships. “Good morning, Genevieve,” Marcus greets me, as we meet up at the entrance door. “How are you doing this fine morning?” Marcus is three years older than my forty two, though he looks a lot older, due to being a heavy smoker. “I’m wonderful. It’s Friday, how can I not be? I get to make cupcakes this afternoon, I have a lesson and then catch up on my Dvr stuff, and the kids are going out for the evening. How are you?” I’ve been working at the station for a little over eleven years now. Once both the kids were in school full-time, I thought it best to have a job. Christopher Ataşehir Escort wasn’t exactly pleased about that, he wanted a little house wife. But it looks like I made the right choice in finding a job and having that savings account that I didn’t inform him of. My mother always said, better safe than sorry. If she were still around, she would have said “I told you so.” Which makes me smile every time I think of that memory. “I’m just fine, Miss. I’m looking forward to my weekend. I’m going to visit my daughter and her newborn. She gave birth last night. I can’t believe I’m a grandfather. I’m too young for this,” his laughter that follows, says otherwise. “Weren’t you like sixteen yourself when you had your first kid, Marcus?” I jab him with my elbow playfully. “Sure as hell don’t feel like it’s been that long ago. Ah, to be sixteen again. I don’t think I’d change a thing. I love my kids more than life itself.” The pride on his words, the way he says it makes me think of my ex husband, wishing he felt the same. “You’re a great dad, Marcus. Make sure you take lots of photos of your grandchild. I can’t wait to see her. Babies are fun, but a lot of work. As I’m sure you recall.” “Sure can. Don’t worry, lots of photos will be taken. I’ll see you at break,” he waves me off, as he heads towards the back of the building. I put my lunch in the staff room, making small talk with my other co-workers. I pour myself a cup of coffee and head to my desk, writing on a sticky note, ‘cupcake stuff’. Most days work can drag for me, not doing a whole lot. I’m often chatting with others who are not doing that much either, when you’re not actually the host of a radio show, it can be rather dull. Especially a little station like ours. “I can’t believe how quiet it is for a Friday,” Amber, who works part-time complains. “It is rather slow, isn’t it? I may head out early. I have lots to do this afternoon. I’m sure Bob won’t mind. He does it all the time, doesn’t he?” I half joke. The boss, who we rarely ever see, is always showing up late or leaving early. We don’t dislike him, hard to dislike a man we don’t see much. But, he keeps us running enough we don’t get shut down. “Nah, besides I’ll cover you,” She smiles warmly at me. “I have nothing better to do. Not until later tonight. So, if you want to head out at lunch, that’s no problem by me.” “Are you sure? That is awfully nice of you. Thanks.” She agrees, telling me it’s fine. So, I make sure to do as much as I can before leaving. I even offer to give her my packed lunch, since she forgot hers. Promising to bring her a coffee from the coffee shop on Monday. She is giddy about this news. I thank her once more, before heading off. Now, I live in a somewhat small town, where there is only a little grocery store. Sure, if you want, you can drive the extra two miles out of town, to go to the WalMart, but I try to get as much as I can locally. Pulling into the parking lot, it’s fairly busy, but find a spot rather easily. Once in the store, I end up filling my cart with other things other just things to make cupcakes. Getting things I know we need, but have been slacking on getting. I take my time, knowing I have it to spare, now that I’m three hours ahead of schedule. Not many people enjoy the experience of going food shopping, but I take it as a little vacation from my every day life. It was something I did more when I was married and needed the excuse, now I just do because I can. “Did you find everything you needed, ma’am?” Crystal, the cashier, asks me. “You’ve known me all your life. I’ve told you many times you don’t need to call me ma’am, Crystal. I gave you piano lessons,” I tease her, as I put my groceries on the conveyor belt. “Can’t help it, ma’am. My mother raised me right. And you were always the best music teacher. I still play.” “With those hands, I can see how you’d be able to be a great teacher,” the sound of a low, slightly gruff sounding man from behind me causes me to turn and look at him. I have to tilt my head up a little higher than I thought I’d need. The man has to stand well over six feet tall. His dusty brown hair hangs around his eyes, but I can tell they are dark, like melted chocolate, swimming in milk. They are hypnotizing. His facial hair looks more like a week without shaving, my favorite look on a man. Though Ataşehir Escort Bayan he was incredibly young looking. “That’s what my dad used to tell me, when I was learning to play when I was young,” I reply to him. As I put the last item on the belt, before adding the section bar, so he can put his items on behind mine. “Are you still teaching? I’m new to the area, but I used to play when I was younger. I’d love a refresher course.” The giggle that erupts from me is not voluntary, it just happens, which admittedly makes me blush and I don’t know why. “Well, I’ve never taught anyone who is all grown up, but since it is more of a refresher course, I don’t see why not.” I pay for my items, bagging them up into my cart, once I have, I dig through my handbag and pull out a piece of paper and scribble my name and number on it. “Here, if you’re serious and want to take some lessons, just give me a call and I’m sure we can pencil you in somewhere.” “Oh, I’m very interested,” he looks down at the paper I had handed him, “Genevieve. What a pretty name. I’m Isaac.” “Thank you. Nice to meet you, Isaac.” He cashes out as well and we walk out together, making small chat about how he has just moved to the area from city to live with his grandmother. “You may know her, she has lived here all her life. Allison Carter, she worked in the local library. That’s where I work now, I have taken over her job and make sure she’s okay. Though she says she is taking care of me, if anyone asks. I don’t fight it. It’s cute, in her own little elderly way. You know?” “How old are you?” I blurt out, it almost sounds rude. “I’m sorry, you don’t need to tell me.” “I don’t mind at all. I’m twenty three. I was working at my dad’s hardware store, he sent me to come take care of my nan, since he can’t close the shop. It wasn’t my first choice, but hey, I’m here now, I’ll enjoy it when I can. That’s the reason I asked about the lessons. There isn’t a whole lot to do here. You all don’t even have a bar. What’s with that?” This makes me laugh, because it drives a lot of younger people crazy. “We’re a dry town. No bars, we don’t even sell alcohol after eleven pm, or on Sunday’s. That happened about five or so years ago. We had a tiny bar, that had pretty good business, but once we changed the rules, they up and moved to who knows where?” “Wow, a dry town. What have I gotten myself into?” He shrugs his shoulders. “Well, this is me.” He nods over at his Ford and smiles that boyish smile that is starting to already grow on me. “I’m three cars down, thanks for the chat. Call me whenever, Isaac. Nice to meet you.” “You too, Ma’am,” he winks at me. Laughing, I walk away, heading towards my car, putting my bags in the trunk. When I’m home, I start the cupcakes, so they can cool off during the lesson I have in an hour and a half. I’ll ice them after, then be all set for Josephine’s girls tonight. They are having a sleepover at Mandy’s house, all the girls are bringing something to the get party. Every time something requires food, I’m always asked to make my special cupcakes. Turning on the radio, I listen to the station I work for. They do a lot of chatting in the afternoon, right before school let’s out. Once it does, they play a lot of music, to get the teenagers into the station. They’re talking about some political thing right now, so I don’t pay a lot of attention to it. Instead, I think about how attractive I find Isaac. It has been a year since I’ve gotten laid, though I’ve had offers from some weird creeps from those online dating sites. I opt out and stick to using my toy, which has been put to good use many times. Just as I’m pulling the cupcakes out of the oven, the doorbell chimes. It’s Stevie, with his older sister, Rebecca, who used to also play, until she decided she wanted to learn the flute instead. Stevie is a rambunctious twelve year old, who seems to only stay calm, when his fingers dance over the ivory keys. Rebecca is in a rush to get to her own practice, and says she’ll be back in an hour to pick him up. She waves and is gone in a flash. Stevie bounces over to the piano, knowing that if he behaves, he’ll get a cupcake too. He always does, when I make them and he is on his best behavior. I start the metronome and he begins to play Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, which is his favorite to Escort Ataşehir play. Once he is warmed up, he begins to play the piece he is working on for his school talent show. Only every so often do I need to correct him. He learns quickly and takes critique well. He doesn’t let it bring him down, just learns from it. Once his hour is nearly up, I head to the kitchen and begin to ice a cupcake for him. I wrap it up and tell him it is for after dinner only. I don’t want him to spoil his appetite, his mother wouldn’t be pleased. He promises to wait and leaps at the door when we both hear the honk of his sister’s car. Moving back into the kitchen, I begin to ice the rest of the cupcakes. Josephine will be home shortly and I want to be done before she gets home. I made more than I needed to, so I keep a few for the house, but make sure to send the rest with her. I box them up, so they don’t get mushed. When the kids do get home, Jasper devours two of the saved cupcakes in nearly one gulp, washing them down with milk. Josephine goes on talking about her day and how she is excited for tonight. In between breathes, Jasper mumbles how he’s going to crash at his buddy Luke’s house. Which I know is code for, staying up all night and playing video games. I tell him it’s fine and he kisses the top of my head before going up to do his homework. Both my kids know that school work of any kind comes before play. If either of them want to get out tonight, they must do all their homework. None of this, I’ll do it on Sunday night stuff. Which usually leads to kids staying up half the night, stressing over it. They both listen well when it comes to that though, always have. I’m proud to say, both my kids are A students. A little after seven, both kids are gone, the house is once more quiet. I start dinner, which I keep light. I make spaghetti, with no sauce. I cook up some shrimp and scallops, mix it into the noodles, with a bit of butter, garlic and black pepper, with some red wine. Not often do I drink wine, but since both kids are not home, I figure why not. I know they’re safe. While watching The Blacklist, my phone chimes, alerting me to a text message. “Hey, it’s Isaac. I hope I’m not disturbing your evening. Thought I’d say hi.” “You’re not disturbing me. I just finished dinner, watching The Blacklist. Kids are out, home alone. That is big fun for a single mom.” “That does sound like big fun. I’m home watching Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy with my seventy year old nan. How cool am I?” I can’t help but choke on some of my wine, laughing between choking. His comment completely caught me off guard. It takes me several minutes to clear my throat, before I can wipe up the mess I made, before I reply back to him. “I’m sorry to admit this, but you made me choke on my drink with that last comment. Yes, you’re wicked cool. It sure beats being a punk kid, who wants nothing to do with his family. You know?” We talk through text while I watch the rest of my show and even the next one. Before I know it, it is well after eleven, I tell him I have to get to bed. The duty of being a mother never ends. I promised Josephine I’d come to the game tomorrow, which is at noon. While texting, though, we agreed for him to come over on Sunday afternoon for his first class. Cleaning up the kitchen a little bit, I climb up the stairs and in to my room, where I strip down to just my usual nightwear, a long t-shirt and panties. Though, because I have the house to myself, I take the opportunity to enjoy myself without worry of the kids hearing me. I know I shouldn’t, but I think of Isaac. He is far too attractive not to, and besides, what harm is it to pretend that he’d ever want to be with a woman in her forties. With ease, I slide my vibrator inside me, working it in until it fits comfortably. I set it on the lowest speed, I let out a soft moan, allowing vibrations tickle inside me. My clit getting harder, more excited. I lift my shirt up, to expose my breasts, I squeeze them gently, pinching my nipples between my fingers. Slowly I grind my hips in slow circles. The thought of Isaac on top of me, inside me, sucking and biting on my nipples fill my mind. I picture him naked, adding details to a man I’ve never even seen without clothes on. His skin so soft, like silk against my own flesh. His full lips covering my chest and breasts, sucking my nipples, leaving love bites on my body. I reach down and turn the speed of my vibrator up two more notches, rolling my hips a little more. Rolling my hips a little more, Isaac picking up speed inside me. I can almost hear the sound of his balls slapping against my ass. Finally, I start to thrust my toy inside me.
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