Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. Any and all original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.

A/N: As many of you already know, I have plenty of updates to work on, but I had some free time today, and I thought up this plot. I have some good ideas for where this can go, so I wanted to post it today and see what you all think. There will be more updates this week, as long as everything goes as planned, both for this story and for some of my others as well. I really hope you like what I did with this, and just an FYI, this is my next to last story revamp. Hope you like it!

Pull up, flash the lights twice, and wait; that was their secret code.

Stephanie had followed that sequence through so often that it was as normal as combing her water-drenched hair after a shower, or even brushing her teeth three times a day. The contents of her stomach swirled like a boiling potion and made her nauseous with excitement, because she knew what was coming next. She was about to 'get some'. The complete lack of sex for the past few weeks had left her in such fragile shape that even a simple movement, like rubbing her thighs together, could ignite a fire of arousal at her heated core.

Sometimes the agile touch of her fingertips offered enough of a release during solo sex, but not now. This time, the only solution was to feel his rock hard manhood inside of her. So she waited, shifting the car into park and tapping her right foot against the floor of the car. She held up her right wrist to check her watch, rolling her eyes when she was reminded that it was pitch black outside, and besides that, all she had to do was check her radio clock. The time was 1:37 — AM, not PM. The middle of the night was the only time she could see him, enjoy his warm body pressed against hers.

She sighed, putting some base into the noise, and her hand fell to rest on the lever controlling her car lights. She considered flashing the high beams again, unsure he had seen the signal, but her mouth turned up at the corners into a full-fledged smirk when the front door swung open. All she had to admire from afar was a silhouette, but even the outline of his body had her aching for the fullness that only he could bring, a sharp pain settling between her legs, stinging her at the base. Her desire seeped through the cotton material of her panties, soaking the precise spots that had been dry only minutes earlier.

Stephanie grunted and divided her legs, sliding her palm over the rise of her pants to create friction and relieve the build-up of tension. When he stepped off the curb and began jogging toward her, she slid her index finger onto the power lock button and allowed him entrance. He opened the door and plopped down in the passenger seat, and before he could so much as offer a greeting, the car was back in drive and her foot was pressed on the gas. She sped down the decently lit street, thankful for the lack of excessive traffic so late at night, and when his hand came down on her thigh, her teeth clamped so hard on her tongue that she tasted her own coppery blood.

"Drive carefully," Chris whispered.

"Shit," she grumbled.

"I know, baby. Me too," was all he said.

No further explanation was required. He was hungry for her, just as she was for him, and they were the only delectable selections on each other's menus. A block from Chris's home was an elementary school, and while the parking lot was vacant at that time of night, settling to a stop in the middle of a wide open space was sure to get them busted. They couldn't arouse suspicions, so, instead, Stephanie pulled into their usual spot: a residential road near a wash, positioned between two separate rows of homes.

The location was discreet enough that they weren't immediately in front of anyone's house, though, still surrounded enough that their presence wouldn't stick out like a produce aisle inside a candy store. Before the car was even turned off, Chris had begun his climb into the backseat, and after she shut off the headlights and ignition, she was next to follow. Only a pale sliver of moonlight, and a few surrounding streetlamps, streamed into their vehicle, so their movements were sloppy and blind as they fumbled in the dark. Still, their mouths melted into one when their lips finally met.

"I missed you," Chris mumbled into her neck, first to break the extended silence. His hands worked frantically to slide his zipper down, and he didn't bother taking his pants off, instead opting to tug himself free between the opening, as a shortcut. He and Stephanie had been at their antics long enough to know all the tricks to get in and get out, so to speak.

"Oh, God, I missed you more than I can even say," came her reply. Her shortcut, of sorts, was to wear a skirt or dress, allowing for easy access. Her choice on that particular night was a floral-print dress with no sleeves, which ended a few inches above her knees. She pulled the material up until the lower half bunched around her waist, sliding her panties down, and Chris guided himself inside of her before she could blink. "Mmm, you feel so good."

Chris couldn't bother to form a verbal response, so he let his body do the work. He throbbed inside of her as he set into a series of rhythmic thrusts, probing around as if it were the last opportunity he would have to do so. In their awkward position they found balance, Stephanie hanging onto the back of the driver's seat and the back passenger headrest, her right leg tossed over the seat. Chris was always on top, not because Stephanie liked to relinquish her leadership, but because he commanded his position, dominating her in ways unimaginable.

Their late-night trysts — or early morning, depending on how one viewed them — were rarely subjected to major time gaps, but Chris hadn't been able to break away for the past few weeks. There was always a prior commitment he had to attend to, or his needy wife or bandmates were asking him to be around for one reason or another, so he and Stephanie had remained abstinent during those weeks, longing for the next chance they would get to join as one. Stephanie's eyes had fluttered closed upon his entrance, and she lost herself in the delicious swipes of his firm member as he worked her like she was his sole occupation. Then, his breathing grew more ragged, only half a minute into their intimate encounter.

The backseat filled only with the slapping of Chris's thighs against Stephanie's, their frenzied breathing patterns mingling together. Chris called out for her, and she knew he was nearing his completion, less than two minutes after it had all began, and that was simply how it went sometimes. When their nightly meetings were more frequent, he could last for hours at a time, pleasing her with multiple tempos and positions, until she clawed violently against his back, called his name, and poured out around him. Then, there were those times when they had gone so long without feeding each other's needs that he could only manage a minute or two of entrapment within her warm walls before releasing.

Stephanie's slow, sweet buildup had only just begun its climb when Chris tensed inside of her, shouting her name into the crease of her neck as his satisfaction shot out in a hot, continuous stream. "Ahh," he moaned, falling against her in a heap.

Too prideful to ever fake an orgasm, Stephanie bit her bottom lip, struggling not to scream. She was grateful Chris had found his release, but she was still waiting for her own. Not wanting to send him into a guilt-trip, she ran her fingertips over his back in jagged lines, smiling softly when she noticed that the action calmed his pounding heart. "Feeling better?"

"A lot better," he said, almost knowing she couldn't say the same of her experience. "Did you get off?"

If he had to ask, he had his answer. "Not exactly, but it's okay."

"Sorry," he apologized. She instantly detected his embarrassment, bordering on humiliation. Chris was hard on himself, especially in moments when he wanted to please her but couldn't deliver. "It's just that I missed you so much, and now that I finally got you...I tried to hold it so we could go at the same time, but I couldn't control it. Too intense."

"You don't have to explain. It's okay, and I understand."

Stephanie's eyes were closed, so she couldn't see his movements, but she felt a shift in weight when he lifted his head from her chest, where his left cheek had been pressed to her left breast. She searched the open air wildly until her fingers found his head, at which point she began a simple massage of his scalp. Chris gripped each of her wrists gently to stop the motion, and she knew what was coming before he said the words. "It's your turn now."

"It's okay, honey. I'm good."

"But it's not fair to you," he replied, and even mid-argument, she could hear his drowsiness. He lowered his head and yawned against her skin, a flash of hot air hitting her chest, just between her breasts. "You felt so good just now, and I want you to feel that from me."

"You're tired."

"Yeah."

"Let me take you back home. We'll find time to meet up tomorrow."

"Not yet. What do you want?"

"To take you home."

"You know that's not what I meant," Chris said. "Which one do you want?"

On nights when he reached his peak too quickly, he would ask her that same question, and she would respond with whichever option she believed would satisfy her craving. She started to declined the offer, only because she wanted Chris to get his sleep, but with the way he was massaging her thigh, she knew he wasn't going to give up until she named a choice. "Fine, I'll pick one, but then you need to let me take you home. I can tell you're exhausted."

"Fine by me. Now, which one?" he asked, leaning in closer. She could smell the peppermint from the chewing gum he must have enjoyed earlier. It interacted nicely with the sweet scent of his cherry lip balm.

"Tongue."

Chris gave an unseen nod and slithered downward, locating her womanhood within seconds, solely with the use of his mouth.

The next morning, Stephanie awoke with a start. She lifted her head abruptly off the pillow, and her eyes scanned her bedroom, until she remembered where she was. As soon as her head plopped down again, the events of the night before came rushing back in vivid clusters, and she laughed softly, holding her hand over her mouth while her eyes pressed themselves shut to avoid the harsh sunlight streaming in through the sheer curtains. If she shut her brain off to everything except her mind's images, she could still feel his warm breath on her inner thighs, feel the scrape of his barely-there beard as it swept across her skin.

She delighted in the memory of his tongue dancing over her, slurping and licking each curve and flap, until she had pooled into his mouth. She involuntarily moaned and became acutely aware of the seat of her panties sticking to her, as she became soaked all over again. Then, her ire rose like the red-dyed alcohol locked inside a thermometer, when she remembered he wasn't hers. Chris was the husband of another woman, but Stephanie wasn't the wife of any other man, so she could still have her fun and convince herself it was all okay, since she wasn't cheating on anyone.

But Chris was cheating, and what had her mother always told her? Oh, right; she had said that if Chris was willing to do it with her, he would do it to her. But how could she believe that to be true when her connection to Chris was so much deeper than that which he shared with his own wife? Chris didn't relate to his wife in the same way he did Stephanie, and just because he was willing to cheat on a wife who had nary a clue how to satisfy his needs didn't mean he would cheat on Stephanie. They loved each other too much.

She jumped when her cell phone buzzed, ignoring the way her heart dropped when she noticed it wasn't Chris who was calling. Still, it was her mom, and she would take that as her second choice. Stephanie's voice was nasally and hoarse from sleep when she answered. "Hi, Mom."

"Hi, precious. You sound tired. Late night?"

"Yep."

"It sure sounds like it. What did you do?"

Of course, it wasn't 'what' she did so much as 'who' she did, but she answered truthfully all the same. "I spent some time with Chris, actually. He just got back home, so we met up."

Linda's end of the line went dead, and Stephanie knew what she was thinking without the need for words. Her mom had drilled into her head, time and again, that she didn't approve of Stephanie's mistress status. Linda was of the mind that, regardless of how in love Chris and Stephanie were, he needed to break it off with his wife before engaging Stephanie in conversation, sex, or anything else in a similar vein. She was almost certainly setting herself up for a lecture by admitting to the events of the night before, but with it being so early in the morning, Stephanie's mind hadn't been sharp enough to formulate a lie.

"I know you feel like you love him, Stephanie, but if Chris cared for you the way he says he does, he wouldn't only keep you around on the side and sneak around with you in private," Linda said. Here it came. Stephanie rolled her eyes and pressed them closed, using her free hand to rub her exposed temple in light circles. A migraine was brewing. "If he were a real man, he would end things with his current relationship before starting a new one. Are you sure you really want him in your life? Even if you get him away from his wife, what else have you really earned yourself, except a man who you know is willing to cheat?"

"Have you ever stopped to think maybe he can't stop seeing me on the side because of how in love with me he is?"

"No, that never occurred to me, because I'm not buying that excuse. You deserve a man who will have you on his arm all the time, not only when it's hidden from view. All he wants to do is string you along and see if he can get you to keep seeing him on the side while he continues to reap the benefits of marriage. He wants the best of both worlds, but you can't have your cake and eat it, too. If he were a man and not an overgrown little boy, he would be honest with his wife and break things off for your sake, if not his," she argued. "Not only does he not respect himself or his wife, but he doesn't respect you either, to be putting you through all of this."

"Well, I love him," Stephanie responded. That seemed the only rational statement to make. She did love Chris, and the way he held, hugged, and kissed her spoke volumes of his love for her as well. His actions meant a lot more to her than her mother's judgments.

"This is dangerous. Somewhere along the way, you or Chris are going to slip up, and that poor woman is going to find out everything her husband has been doing behind her back, and then what? What's your big backup plan, Stephanie?" she pressed. "Have you even thought that far, or are you too busy believing Chris's lies?"

"He wants to be away from her," Stephanie said, speaking in a more hushed tone. Her eyes grew misty, and she was thankful they were closed, because she abhorred crying, even when nobody was around to witness it. She was a McMahon, way too tough for tears. "He's trying so hard to get away, but she won't let him. He told her last year that he wanted a divorce, but she just kept tricking him into staying. She's the one doing this; she's the problem."

"She's his wife, and you're not."

"Gee, thanks for stating the obvious, Mom."

"You're an adult and you can choose what you want to do, but this isn't how I raised you. Your father and I brought you up to be smarter than this. You're worth more than a man who only wants you as his concubine."

"Like I said, he's leaving her. He'll be mine soon enough."

"He's certainly no prize."

"Anyways, Mom, did you have something to ask me, or did you only want to boss me around and make snap judgments?" she asked. Now she was worked up and needed to walk it off. Stephanie tossed the covers off of her body and climbed out of bed, following the path to her bathroom and pulling her toothbrush free of its holder.

"I was going to ask if you wanted to come over for breakfast."

"No, thanks," she replied. Then, without thinking, she divulged, "I'm meeting up with...I mean, uh, I already have plans."

"Right," Linda said, uttering only a single phrase before hanging up the call. "Enjoy your date with Chris."

Stephanie rolled her eyes for a second time and placed her phone down on the bathroom counter. She spread a thin line of toothpaste onto the bristles and capped it, speaking her rebuttal for no one in particular before she began brushing. "I sure will enjoy it. More than you'll ever know."

Trish Stratus-Irvine would lose the hyphen in her name before she even knew what hit her.

Stephanie was simply biding her time.