Prologue
In our vanilla world, we’d never done anything like this before, the excitement of having others around heightened the sensations and increased my arousal.
I looked up and caught Alex’s stare as he kissed his way down Jenna’s neck. His eyes were heavy-lidded, but he kept his gaze on me as James breached the edge of my bathing suit and began circling my clit. My head fell back against James’s shoulder, and my mouth dropped open on a silent oh as I tried to keep my pleasure quiet. The corner of Alex’s mouth curled up as he continued his ministrations.
The realization that someone was watching me made me feel naughty and turned the intensity up a few levels.
1
“Have a great day, babe.” My husband, James, kissed me on the forehead as he said goodbye while I laid in bed. It was the same morning routine we’d had for the last six years. Every weekday morning was exactly the same, including the spot he planted his lips.
I didn’t have to get the kids up for an hour or so, but I liked to start my day early and have a little “me” time before they got up.
“I love you.” He smiled down at me, and I wondered how I’d gotten so lucky.
He turned to walk away but stopped. “Oh, Clarissa, don’t forget my parents are coming over for dinner tonight.”
I rolled my eyes—like I would forget anything. My trusty planner never let me down. “I’ll be here; I love you, too.”
He kissed me again before he left for work.
It was Monday morning, and I was feeling a little lazy. My outfit waited for me on the dresser—a pair of leggings and a baggy, off-the-shoulder sweatshirt. After brushing my teeth and throwing my hair up into a messy bun, I went downstairs to get some coffee and to check my social media. I still had a few minutes before I had to start breakfast. I tried to cook a hot meal for the kids most days, but today would be quick with scrambled eggs and toast. I wasn’t in the mood to go all out.
Two hours later, Lucas had left on the bus to pre-kindergarten, and Jane was playing with her toys in the playroom. I was on coffee cup number three just as my best friend, Amy, walked in with her daughter, Mary.
“Hey, you. Want a cup?” I kissed both her cheeks and poured her a mug, not waiting for her response.
Mary had already run into the playroom without so much as a glance my way.
Amy and I had been friends since our freshman year. Our daughters were born just months apart—which definitely worked to our advantage—and she had moved into our subdivision just after the kids were born. We got the girls together as often as possible and drank coffee while gossiping and binge-watching our favorite sitcoms. Everyone had raved about This is Us, and I’d been avoiding it. Who wants to cry through every episode? But Amy had finally convinced me.
“Are you ready for this?” She gave me the side-eye as she queued up the show, knowing full-well that I wasn’t.
I didn’t respond, just sipped my coffee and sat down beside her on the couch. When she wasn’t looking, I grabbed a throw pillow to hold onto for support.
“I can’t believe we’re just now watching this. There are already three seasons out. Better late than never, I guess.” She pressed play, and so it began.
Four episodes in and we were hooked, I had cried like a baby, but it was so worth it. We would’ve kept going but had to stop to make the girls lunch.
My phone dinged with a text in the other room just as the girls went back to playing. Amy plopped down onto the sofa and pulled up her phone before bursting out laughing. There were tears in her eyes.
“What are you cackling at over there?”
“Oh my God. Wait ‘til you hear this, Riss.” She could barely breathe, let alone talk. “Lisa is having a Chaste Affair party.”
“A what?” I had no idea what she was going on about.
Amy stopped her fit of giggles and stared at me like I was crazy. “Holy shit, you’ve never heard of them?”
“Clearly not, what is it?”
“Oh, this is going to be so much fun.” She rubbed her hands together. “It’s a toy party.” She smiled mischievously.
“Toys? Why is it called Chaste Affair then?” I was beyond confused.
“Your inner blonde is showing, Clarissa.”
It hit me, and I was sure my face went twenty shades of red. “No way. You don’t mean those sorts of toys, do you?”
That Cheshire Cat grin returned to her lips. “Yes! It’s going to be a blast.”
“I’m not going to one of those.” I shook my head and dismissed the idea. “I have a husband. What do I need that garbage for?” Single women who weren’t in committed relationships used toys. I had the real thing.
When I looked up, the disbelief on her face caught me off guard. I stood there, staring at my best friend, wondering what I’d said that left her mouth hanging open and stolen her ability to blink.
“You don’t have any toys?”
“Of course not, I’ve been married since I was twenty-two. What would I have needed one for?”
She finally snapped back to reality and started her inquisition. “Wow! I’m a little surprised. We’ve been friends for over ten years. How have we never had this conversation? So, you don’t take advantage of days like today at all?” Amy stared at me, waiting for a response, but I didn’t have one. “You’re home alone. When Jane goes down for a nap, you don’t get yourself off?” Her eyes went wide when I shook my head. “Wait! You and James don’t use toys at all?”
I couldn’t tell which one of us had lost our minds, but I was hedging my bets on Amy. “Of course not, why would we need to? We have the correct parts for what we do.” I wondered if maybe her husband wasn’t getting things done and that was why she needed them. “Why would we need other things to get the job done?”
“Clarissa, we’re talking about sex, not a job. It should be fun and new and exciting, not the same old get on top and let’s do this.”
She must’ve noticed my expression of disbelief before I could set my poker face.
Her face scrunched up like she felt sorry for me. “Oh, hunny.” Was that pity I heard?
“What? There’s nothing wrong with my sex life. We have sex regularly.” I certainly had no complaints, and James hadn’t, either.
She eyed me skeptically. “What do you mean by regularly?”
“Every Sunday.”
“I’m sorry, did you just say that you have a specific day set to be intimate? Why not just have it when you want it?”
My brow furrowed, and I looked at her in utter confusion—she should understand this. “We have two kids and busy schedules. This works best for us. We know when to be available for each other.”
Amy rolled her eyes, and I’d swear she tsked at me. “That had to be your idea. Please tell me it’s not written in your day planner.”
Throwing my head back, I covered my face, completely mortified. She was right, and now that she’d said it, I’d realized how ridiculous it sounded. I scheduled sex. On my day planner. Every week. I even had a “sexy” sticker on the top right corner of each and every Sunday.