Every inch of Stella’s body was damp with sweat. The air around her smelled sticky. She opened her hazy eyes, as the corner of her lips elevated. A smile that even a stranger would recognize as sinful.
This was the second night in a row she had dreamed about him. She was so twisted in the sheets, it was like he was there with her. Stella squeezed her eyes shut and tried to lock in every thrust and moan.
Stella rolled over and stared at her handsome husband. They had been married three years now. She glanced at the alarm clock next to him. She knew in two minutes, he would wake, stretch and stumble his way to the bathroom. Peter never set the alarm. He never needed to rely on it. His life had become a busy, worn routine. One that left Stella feeling invisible and unfulfilled.
At a café near her office, Stella devoured a Rueben and the last chapter of her book.
“Stella? Hey! I thought that was you.”
Stella was startled by the familiar voice, causing her to look up from her book, a piece of limp lettuce hanging from her full mouth. There he was, Jonah, the man she almost married; the man that she welcomed in to her dreams.
Suddenly, her head had a flirtation tilt, as she said, “Hey you! Just having some meat, I mean a bite to eat! I mean, I’m on my lunch break, care to join me?”
As Jonah sat down, Stella could feel a warm energy crawling up her thighs. All she could think about was the way his thick, rough hands used to guide her hips, as she slowly took him in and out. Stella craved his kind of masculine attention again.
Within the first few seconds of sitting across from each other, neither saying a word, the sexual tension became palpable. It never went away, even when their relationship did.
Jonah asked, “It’s been what, four years since we last saw each other? I still think of you often, Stella.”
Stella could see nothing but the rise and fall of his chest, as she admitted, “I think about you too.”
Neither of them mentioned the fact that they had both gotten married since they last saw each other.
Stella wanted nothing more than to use what was left of her lunch break, to let Jonah make her feel alive again.
Suddenly, Peter flashed in her mind. Stella wanted to cry. The only piece missing from their marriage, passion, was sitting right in front of her, but out of her reach.
Stella knew what she had to do. She asked Jonah about his family. It was the only way to bring them both back down from the erotic high they were swimming in.
That evening, Peter walked in from work, right on cue. Stella, lying naked on the couch, her body glowing from the candles surrounding her, immediately stood and walked to him. Peter started to speak, but Stella put her finger to his lips. She grabbed hold of his tie, and pulled him to the floor.