Off Limits

by Vivian Ward

  M: Whatever. Lol Now you go and quit stalling. I want to see your picture.

  A quick search on Google of ‘man body selfie’ lands me several attractive options to choose from. I save one of the images to my phone that has the man’s head cut out of the photo and send it to her.

  R: I promise, I’m very attractive. I bet if we met in real life, you’d have dinner with me. I’m going to hold onto your stranger fantasy and conceal my identity for just a bit longer, but here’s a picture of my body.

  While I’m waiting for her to respond, the tall blonde girl from behind the counter taps loudly on the counter.

  “Sir? I’m sorry for interrupting you. Your pizza is ready,” she offers an apologetic smile.

  “Sorry, I must not have heard you,” I say to her.

  It’s very obvious that she’s been trying to get my attention for a few minutes now but when I’m playing the character of Robbie, I get lost in everything around me because the only thing that matters is Maddy and her responses.

  “It’s no problem, sir.”

  She slides the pizza box across the counter with a handful of napkins.

  “Have a good evening,” she waves goodbye as I leave.

  “You too,” I nod my head toward her.

  In the car, I check my phone again before I turn over the engine and drive back home but I’ve not heard from her. She might be pissed that I didn’t send a picture of what I look like, so maybe she’s done talking to me.

  She sent me a near nude photo of herself with her face in it and I made sure that the one she received didn’t have a face, but the guy had a good body.

  I didn’t go overboard, but I chose a guy who was fit and slightly toned—just like me—but maybe 15 pounds lighter than I am. He’s shirtless, wearing an iPod on his arm with Nike workout shorts.

  It’s blatantly obvious that this is a person who maintains himself so she should find him at least semi-attractive based on the picture that she received, and it should help minimize any questions she may have.

  There’s still nothing back from her yet so I head on home with the smell of pizza filling my truck as my stomach rumbles.

  Chapter 12

  Madison

  That’s it? One stinking selfie of him standing in front of a bathroom mirror without a shirt on?

  He does have a nice body—similar to Drew’s, actually—but I was hoping to see what he looked like. Now I kind of wish that I wouldn’t have told him about the stranger thing.

  Maybe I should’ve left that part out, and just left it to the forced thing. Then I might know what he looks like.

  I was about to respond to him, and chew his ass out for sending me that picture instead of an actual picture, but my boss Don called to ask me if I could come in a bit later tomorrow to cover for April because she needs to take off early.

  Before, I used to hate having my schedule switched, but now I don’t mind it so much. It’s not like I’ve got anything going on anyway.

  Right as I’m about to message Robbie back, I hear Drew’s truck pull into the driveway, so I scrap that idea and pull out the paper plates and pour us something to drink; sweetened iced tea for me and a glass of Dr. Pepper for him.

  “Hey babe,” Drew says as he sets the pizza boxes on the counter.

  “Hey.”

  “Are you hungry? I got a deluxe pizza for me and your favorite: hamburger, onions and green peppers.”

  “Meh. I don’t have much of an appetite, but I’ll eat with you.”

  I’ll skip over the fact that I’m bummed out about not getting a picture of Robbie and that it’s kind of killed my appetite. I just want to eat and go to our room so I can text him some more and maybe do a bit of reading.

  My book is starting to get good. I found out that the hero of the story has an ex-wife and the heroine of the story just met her, and it wasn’t pleasant. It was quite awkward for the two of them because his current girlfriend didn’t know anything about the ex-wife other than she existed, and the ex-wife couldn’t believe that he was seriously dating.

  He’s about to propose to the girlfriend, but I’m betting that this will throw a wrench in his plans because he failed to mention that she lived in the area that he just talked his girlfriend into moving to, which is his hometown, so he knew his ex lived there all along.

  We sit through another quiet dinner and throw our paper plates in the trash when we’re finished, and then Drew heads to the basement as usual. After I pack my lunch for the next day and put the rest of the leftovers in the fridge, I flip off the kitchen light and head to our room.

  When I get in there, I see that I have a new message from Robbie and it makes me smile.

  R: What? Not ripped enough for a beautiful lady like you? You’re not turning me down, are you?

  M: Maybe. I know you want to play into my fantasies, but I really want to see you. I need to know what you look like.

  R: I know, and I want you to as well, but I also want to keep it secret for a while longer—but not too much longer.

  M: Oh?

  R: I was doing some thinking today. How about if we meet at a hotel? Would you want to do that?

  I don’t know about that. There’s too much risk of getting caught. What if someone either of us knows sees us at the hotel, and it somehow gets back to Drew?

  Plus, what if he snatches me from the parking lot where I’m completely defenseless and kidnaps me? There are too many things that could go wrong. He could also have a host of guys waiting for me in the room, ready to pounce on me and gang rape me.

  No thank you.

  My safety comes first. I’m not going to do anything that would jeopardize my safety or put me in harm’s way. I also don’t want to do anything that could get me busted, either.

  M: No, I don’t want to meet at a hotel. There are too many risks involved with that.

  R: Then what? How can we meet? Do you have any suggestions?

  M: No, not really. I’m not even sure I want to do this. I’ve never cheated on my husband.

  R: That’s not a bad thing, you know? The not cheating on your husband part. How does a domesticated housewife like you go from tame to downright wild?

  Ha! I wasn’t always this way.

  Before I married Drew, I was what some might consider promiscuous. My weekends consisted of partying with my girls and occasionally hooking up with guys here and there. We always had a lot of fun going out on the weekends.

  I didn’t even know what I was into or what I liked until I met Asher.

  He is the one that changed me; changed my whole world. Asher taught me things about my body that I never knew. Pain, pleasure, punishments, and rewards. But things between us ended badly; we were never meant to be, I suppose. I still think about him often, and maybe that’s why I still crave the sexual things that my body misses.

  When I met him, I was innocent enough. I’d been with a couple of guys, and I was 20-years-old, but all of my sexual relationships had always been vanilla—just like Drew, and maybe that’s why I’m with Drew now. He’s safe and familiar, for lack of words.

  Asher was different. He was wild, untamed and demanding. He turned my vanilla sex life into rich, velvety goodness. There was discipline and structure. If I didn’t do as I was told or as I had promised, he’d punish me with a cat-0-nine tails or a riding crop. His bare-handed spankings were reserved only for pleasure because I enjoyed them so much.

  He knew how to take control of me and use my body as he saw fit. There’s another secret that I’ve not told Robbie about, but I want to so badly.

  I like being choked. Not strangled and not enough to kill me, but just the right amount of pressure—the kind that barely cuts off your air supply for just a few minutes. It brings me to a heightened state that makes my body tingle and my mind race.

  It also makes me come.

  My orgasms are so fucking intense when I’m being choked.

  But I wouldn’t let just anyone do it, which is why I’ve not told Robbie—an
d I don’t know if I can or will. There has to be a certain level of trust, and even though I’ve told him so many other things, I don’t know if I want him to know about this. What if he’s too forceful? What if he gets out of hand?

  He could easily overpower me. I’m only 5’2” and have a slender build. It wouldn’t take much for him—or just about any guy—to manhandle me. I’d have to know someone for a long while before I could build and develop that kind of trust with someone.

  M: I’ve not always been so domesticated. There has definitely been plenty of wild days in my past. lol

  While I wait for Robbie to respond, I pick back up on the book that I’ve been reading. The current girlfriend confronted her boyfriend about his ex-wife and asked how he could ask her to move back to his hometown where there’s nothing for her or him—except his ex-wife. I don’t know where this book is headed, but I like the direction that it’s traveling.

  I’m only into the next chapter when the bedroom creaks open, and Drew enters the bedroom.

  “What are you doing in here?” I ask as I grab my phone and push it under the pillow.

  He starts rummaging through the closet, mumbling something under his breath.

  “I’m looking for my duffle bag. Have you seen it?” he asks.

  I can’t remember the last time that I saw his old bag; he barely uses it.

  “No. Why?” I ask. “What are you doing?”

  He moves around a few more things in the closet before he pulls it out and holds it up as some sort of trophy prize or something.

  “Found it!” His face lights up as he waves the bag around. “Kirk called. He said that we have a job in Arkansas and we’re starting it on Monday.”

  “Arkansas? Why is it so far away? What are you guys going to do down there?”

  I sit up on the bed and listen. He’s never left for a job like this. His boss Kirk never does jobs outside of the area. Everything has always been local, so I can’t imagine why they’d be traveling from St. Louis down to Arkansas.

  “He’s doing a favor for someone he knows. It’s a guy who used to give him a lot of business but moved to Bryant, Arkansas, so that’s where we’re going.”

  “Bryant, Arkansas? Where the hell is that?”

  I’ve never heard of it, but I’ve also never really been to Arkansas. I think we drove through it once on our way to Tunica not long after we got married. We took a weekend trip to go gambling; I wasn’t impressed.

  “It’s almost smack dab in the center of the state. It’s just a little southwest of Little Rock. They’re building a new library there. Kirk said it’s going to be a big job and it’ll pay well.”

  “You’re leaving on Monday? How long will you be gone? Are you staying down there?”

  “Actually, we’ll probably drive down there on Sunday, so we’re already on the job site first thing Monday morning. We’ll be gone for about two weeks, depending on how everyone works; but with Kirk paying for our hotel, I bet he makes sure everyone’s ass is working. No more breaks for Slacker Gene.”

  This is so crazy and weird. He’s never left like this before. It’ll be odd not having him around; not that we talk much or spend a lot of time together but I at least always know that he’s here.

  “Wow. Okay, so do you want me to get anything together for you? Or is there anything I can do?” I ask.

  “Nah, I’m just getting some of my things together, so I have it all. I’ll pack the day before I go.”

  He puts everything back in the closet before grabbing his duffle bag off the bed.

  “Reading another good book?” he asks, nodding toward my tablet.

  “Yeah, it’s a romantic comedy,” I offer a weak smile.

  “All right. I’ll get out of your hair. See ya in a bit.”

  I watch him walk out of the room and shut the door behind him. It’ll be awfully quiet without him here next week, but that does give me an idea.

  Chapter 13

  Drew

  It doesn’t take but a few minutes after I leave our room for my text app to go off that I have a new message from Maddy.

  M: Hey, I have an idea. Instead of meeting in the middle at some random hotel, would you want to come here?

  R: What? How is that possible?

  M: You could come here. I know it’s a little farther drive, but it’s only an extra 30 minutes.

  R: You want me to drive to St. Louis? And then what? Meet at a hotel near you?

  M: No, I want you to come to my house.

  No fucking way! She would ask a stranger into our home? My fucking house?

  My blood is boiling over this one. How dare she use our house—our bed—for some random guy to come fuck her and use her like a rag doll. I can’t believe that she would do something like this.

  I made up the whole story about going to Bryant, Arkansas to work. It’s a smallish town, and they’re not rebuilding any libraries. I just wanted to mention a city that’s far away from here to buy some time to set everything up.

  Bryant has a population of about 20,000, and they don’t need a library. They actually have a nice one in their little town, but I know how she loves libraries, so I just went with it. Again, I research everything, but considering the fact that she hasn’t bothered to ask ‘Robbie’ much personal information, I doubt she’s willing to check on anything that I tell her.

  She seems perfectly content with telling him everything about herself, which I find disturbing. How can I be married to a woman who finds it easier to talk to strange men than me? It’s, literally, easier for her to tell ‘Robbie’ her fantasies than it is to tell me and I’m the one who’s been sleeping with her for the last nine years.

  R: Your house? I thought you said you were married. Last time I checked, married men didn’t like strange guys coming to their house to fuck their wives.

  M: Yes, I’m married, but he just came in and told me that he’s going out of town for about two weeks. That would give us plenty of time to plan something so that you could come over.

  My intention of the lie was never to have her invite me over to the house. We have plenty of money in savings, so I told her that I was going out of town for that long, but in reality I requested next week off of work because I figured it’d buy us time to plan something out and talk a bit more so that it would give her an opportunity to change her mind.

  I told Kirk that I needed some time off for personal reasons and he said no problem. Next week is going to be a slow week finishing our current job and work might not even last the whole week which is why it isn’t a big deal. I figured I’d just take off a few days, chat with her and see where things go.

  Her asking me to come over has really blown my mind, but it could be very interesting to see how this all plays out.

  R: Are you sure? I don’t want to come over to your house and get shot by your husband. lol

  M: Yes, it’ll be okay. He’s traveling out-of-state, so he’ll be hours away. I really want to meet you….and have some fun.

  R: Mmmm. What kind of fun did you have in mind? Want me to blindfold you, tie you up and have my way with you?

  M: Yeah, something like that. So, will you come over?

  R: On one condition—and if you break that condition, this is over.

  And I mean that literally; though, she has no idea.

  M: What’s that?

  R: I’ll come over if you wear something sexy and blindfold yourself before I get there. I want the room to be completely dark, so you don’t see me.

  M: What? How are you supposed to get in? You don’t even know my house. How will you find the bedroom?

  R: Send me your address, and I’m sure I’ll manage to locate the bedroom. Do we have a deal?

  M: Okay. We have a deal.

  R: Good.

  Maddy and I have spent the last few days texting back and forth as ‘Robbie.' Our conversations have been fun and light-hearted. I almost forgot what it was like talking to her and how much fun she can be. We’ve also done plenty of talki
ng about our meet-up until I leave to go to Bryant.

  I’m so torn on things.

  Part of me is hugely excited to play into her fantasies and make her dream come true. Personally, I think her fantasies are pretty fucking hot. I’ve never really given much thought about bondage or anything else. There’s never been a reason to—or so I thought.

  I’ve always been a simple man who likes simple things—not that I’m against anything that she wants to do. I think it’d be a lot of fun, and I’d like to make her squirm, but I hate the fact that she’ll think I’m someone else.

  I hate the fact that she’s about to ‘cheat’ on me. The thought of her getting what she needs from someone else is a low blow to my ego, but instead of dwelling on it, I’m going to use it to my advantage. I’m going to go in that bedroom and give her exactly what she needs. What she wants.

  It will be me who pleasures her, regardless what she believes. I’ll be the one giving her the satisfaction and pleasure that she craves.

  If she wants it dark? It’ll be black.

  She wants it rough? I’ll give it to her in spades.

  I’ve got my duffle packed, sitting by the door and make my way into the kitchen where I find her making herself a cup of coffee, wearing her iPod and one of my oversized t-shirts as she hums around the kitchen. Completely oblivious that I’m here, I lean against the door frame and watch her move to the rhythm of the music.

  Her long brown hair flows down her back as she gracefully sways back and forth in front of the kitchen counter. How can someone who looks so sweet and innocent be so conniving and such a dark, twisted liar?

  Right as she hits the chorus of her song, she turns around and spots me standing in the doorway amused by her performance and jumps two feet in the air as her eyes pop out of her head.

  I can’t help but laugh my ass off at her.

  “Oh my God,” she yells, clutching her chest. “You scared the shit out of me. I thought you were packing or loading up your truck or something.”