Chapter 3

THREE

ASHLEY

J erry's voice rang through the house, whoops and curses as he loudly gamed with his friends. At nine on a Saturday morning, was it too much to ask him to stay in bed? Without kids, and it being his day off, staying in bed together shouldn't be a chore.

With my phone being my sole companion, and a staunch refusal to get up only to be told to bring his bacon and eggs to the gaming room, I settled into the covers and messaged my sister back home.

Any exciting plans today?

Tim and I are taking the kids to a pumpkin patch! I'll send you pics. How about you?

Long had I exaggerated my own weekends to make my life seem less pathetic. No more. Who was I protecting by lying? Jerry? He didn't deserve it.

No. Jerry is gaming and I'm laying in bed staring down a day of nothing.

I'm sure if you walked in there with nothing on, he'd soon turn off the game.

Maybe Tim would. She forever complained about how she had to practically hose him off to keep his needs at bay. Lucky bitch.

Doubt it.

Then fuck him. Go out and have a day for yourself. Buy yourself something frivolous and then go eat something that you never have when out together.

Wish you were closer. I miss our girl dates.

Me too. You should come visit.

A spark of joy lit inside me. Visiting would be perfect. Even more so if Jerry had to work. A break from him and his mother? Nights cuddled in or going out with my big sister. Yes.

I'd love that.

She had to go, so I slid back into scrolling through my socials. An ad for Aimly showed up, flashing the items I'd perused a few days prior. The plant posts and cute cushions. My world screeched to a halt as I flicked through the images, only to see the pretty leather collar and cuffs set pop up. A knot formed low in my stomach, and I clicked on the picture.

The store for the leather items had a well-laid out design, with fantastic reviews. The about section let me know the items were handmade only fifty miles from where I lived. To think that such kinky items were being made in my state sent a flurry between my thighs.

Calm down , I told myself. They're not going to be made by some Adonis.

Curiosity pulled me toward the gallery at the top of the page with previously sold items. Most items stretched out on a rough wooden tabletop, or posed on a mannequin, but one picture made my pulse pick up.

A pair of thick, veiny forearms were in the picture, holding a harness up to display it fully. Salivating over a pair of forearms was ridiculous. But I couldn't help it. I wanted to lean through my phone and lick them.

Deeply tanned skin with a dusting of dark hair, thick knuckles that gave way to long, wide fingers. The sort of hands I could imagine pinning me to the bed, or wrapped around my throat.

Fuck.

The mystery man hit something in me and instantly stoked the fire I'd been trying to ignore.

Kicking off the blankets, I pulled off my nightshirt, squirming against the bad as I pressed my fingers against myself. Studying every vein on those irresistible arms, I stroked myself until I couldn't hold back a whimper. Letting myself fall into a fantasy, I imagined being pressed against the rough wooden worktop, splinters biting at my hips as he fitted one of his exquisite collars around my throat. He'd fill my wet pussy while whispering dirty things into my ears.

Maybe he'd even call me a good girl.

Panting, I rode my hand, abandoning any decorum I usually had while discreetly sorting myself out. My sexual yearning spilled out of every pore until I was a writhing mess on the bed.

That's how Jerry found me.

My eyes burst open as he walked into the room, chatting on his headset. His gaze met mine before travelling over my exposed body, taking in my sodden fingers and flushed chest.

I let out a low moan as I circled my clit, hope surging when he didn't immediately walk out.

‘Nah, it's nothing,' he said into the headset. ‘Just the wife being pathetically horny as usual.'

His laughter echoed through the receiver, and he rolled his eyes before grabbing a hoodie and walking out.

‘Listen, she's always gagging for it. She'll be there when I want her.' Tears pricked as his words filtered through the door, embarrassment consuming me. He wasn't wrong. Whenever he wanted sex, I was ready to take the crumbs he dropped.

The humiliation of his friends knowing should have doused my desire, but that only fanned the flames. Would they be imagining me touching myself? They might even excuse themselves from the chat and go wank at the thought of a game-buddy's horny wife.

I turned back to the image of my muscly collar maker and thrust my fingers deep inside myself. I wished they were his.

Choking on a squeal, I came into the pillow, biting the cotton to temper my noises. Heat filled my cheeks in the orgasm's aftermath. The reality of having to face Jerry after debasing myself would suck.

Heaving out a sigh, I went to close out of the Aimly page. A moment of indulgence stopped me.

I could buy a set and wear them while Jerry was at work. The man would have touched them. Those glorious fingers would have crafted the collar, and wearing it would almost be like them around my throat.

Swallowing at the cost, I picked out a baby pink set and pressed the purchase button before I could reconsider.

For the first time in a long time, I had a little something to look forward to.