"What would you say if I kissed you right now?" He asked. He looked at me with an intensity that couldn't be matched by anyone. Not even my husband before we got married and settled down. I've wanted this moment to happen for ages, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. Betray my husband, I mean. We've been together for years and we had children, a little early because he was eager. They've both gone to college and it's just me and him in the house. We don't do as much as we used to. When we were young. I liked to think that we were still young, at 40, but he doesn't have it in him anymore. If there was more fun, more excitement, I wouldn't even think about another man. Especially not one that my husband has hated for years. I'm not the sort of woman who cheats on her husband, but the marriage is dead. I'm half looking for an excuse to divorce him anyway. It may not give me an excuse to cheat, but it would make it easier for me to justify it to myself.
My companion looked at me. He looked at me and saw me for who I am. I'm not the mother to his children. I'm not the housewife or the maid. I'm not the working woman who can't find time for him. I'm not the wife he neglects every night. I am a woman. A woman with needs and I'm glad he can see that. Up until now, there has been an unspoken agreement between us. He can look, but he cannot touch, and the same goes for me. I have a family to worry about. Or do I? My kids are old enough and my husband probably doesn't know I'm still around. After 20 years of marriage, we were both on autopilot when it comes to each other.
Now I look into the eyes of the man I've been dreaming about for months now; sexual tension building up and reaching the point where we can both no longer stand it. I couldn't speak to respond. My voice had long deserted me. Instead I reached over and put my hand on his shirt. I could feel the shape of him underneath. 22 years after we last… and he has managed to keep it toned. I let out an almost audible sigh of lust. "It's been hard these last few weeks," I managed.
"I know," he replied, with a grin that acknowledged his double entendre. His eyes never left mine for a moment. Mine never left his, except for the occasional stray down to his lips. I wanted him to say something. Those lips only looked better when they moved. He licked his top lips and I shuddered. He stepped closer so that we were almost touching. I could feel him breathing. He wasn't that much taller than me, so we could be close and still maintain eye contact. What we had now had an intimacy that couldn't be matched. A closeness that could only get closer every time we saw each other. If I had the will, I would walk away right now. But he had me backed up against the wall – I could no longer trust myself to stand around him. His muscular arm, with just that light dusting of arm hair was on display because he had rolled up his sleeves. I could see it at the same level of my shoulder out of my peripheral vision. It was possession; he was claiming me like no one had for over 15 years.
Perhaps these feelings are made more intense by the fact that it's been a while. Don't get me wrong, my husband and I have sex, but it's more because he has to. He hasn't made my stomach turn or even given me an orgasm for years. Standing here with this Adonis looking into my eyes is like a wet dream. If I was half as strong as I used to be, I'd be able to resist. I had always been the prize in the battle between Paul and Jesse, but this was different. Things had changed and we were all mature now. If I hadn't finally made my choice when I was 18, who knows what how this could've played out. All I know is that here in the moment with him, my husband working late, not likely to be home for hours, anything could happen. We were both adults now and we could do what we wanted. I finally felt free.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him like he was the sir I needed to breathe. He kissed me back, lustfully, but gently. He has changed, and this more than anything shows it. He never crossed any boundaries. No second base, nothing. I pulled away and we carried on looking at each other, as before, except we were out of breath. I watched his chest move up and down, his top buttons were undone because it was so warm out. I wanted to undo them all. At the same time, I didn't want us to move. If I had chosen him all those years ago, would we still feel like this? I've had some good times -and some good children- with my husband. He made me happy for a while. As soon as the kids left, it was different. I realized that we both missed each other due to everything that was going on in our lives.
This time, I used his shirt to pull him in to kiss me. The moment he smashed his lips on mine, I started undoing his shirt, as if it was the worst one I'd ever seen. Knowing him though, it had probably cost hundreds. His hand moved up my shirt. If we were too old for this then why does it still feel so good? Better in fact.
I must've heard the front door, but just not cared, because as he was kissing my neck, over his shoulder, I saw my husband standing there, looking at us. I looked at him, he looked at me, his face a picture of betrayal. The hypocrite. He knew what he did to deserve this. The adulterer. I didn't stop the man undoing my shirt, though I had a feeling he knew who was standing behind him. My husband made no move either to walk away or to stop us. We were all frozen in this soap opera that my life has become.
A/N: Did you like the story? For a moment, it got a bit adult, in terms of life problems, but hey. It added context to the situation. So, who was who? Did she marry Jesse or Paul? Does she lust after Paul or Jesse? Review. I think this was a one shot. I like to keep the mystery.