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You approach the magazine rack briskly, the anticipation eating at you since you received the text that another letter was waiting for you. The mysterious man you have never met has a way of ramping up your desires and emotions. Stirring passions in you that your husband never could. Its become a delicious addiction, a doled out at his convenience, not yours. Its been two weeks since his last letter, the one that left you breathless, satisfied but crazy with amazement and exhilaration. Scanning the disheveled magazines you find the row of Cosmopolitan. Hidden behind in a plain white envelope is the letter. You snatch it quickly before anyone comes towards you and discreetly place it in your purse. Off to grab a gallon of milk and race home to make dinner, do a load of laundry, help with homework, and whatever mundane, monotonous evening tasks come your way. On the way home you keep sneaking peeks at your purse, wishing you had the time to read it, feel his words, follow his commands, and lust for his touch, his kisses, the scent of his skin, having him inside you and never letting go.
The soft snore from your husband is the clue youve been waiting for, hes finally asleep. Nothing short of an earthquake will wake him now. You know because for years you have tried. Placing the book you were reading on the night stand, you turn off your reading light, sit and smile for a moment and think of him. You remember the one time you heard his voice, how gentle but manly the tone of his voice was, how it aroused you. You want to break the rules. The rules you both made in the beginning. No exchanging pictures, no real names, no meeting in person, no contact via text unless he texts first. All you know is he is married, has one son, and lives in the same town as you. Hes a couple of years older and is not originally from the area. For almost 9 months he has had a spell on you and it has changed your life for the better.
Reaching quietly beneath the bed you feel for your purse. Finally feeling the envelope you clutch it tight to your side. You creep down the stairs to the kitchen, make a cup of sleepy tea, your cover should anyone awaken and wonder why you are up. You head to the family room, sit on the couch close to the lamp and place your tea on end table. Finally, a moment to yourself to enjoy. You take the throw blanket on the arm rest and cover yourself, knowing what you will probably end up doing reading his words. You gently open the letter, take it out, unfold it and begin to read
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