Finding Out About Mr M Read online

  He stepped aside to reveal dozens of large boxes behind him in a mostly empty living room. “Nice you meet you two. Fortunately, I have some time off over the next few days, but I still a lot to take care of.”

  “What do you do for work?” Jen asked. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

  “I’m a financial adviser,” he answered, his deep voice sounding throughout the cool late-October air. He promptly turned his attention to Ashley. “But the real question is, what do you do for work?”

  “Me?” Ashley questioned.

  He nodded.

  “I sometimes help out at my friend’s mom’s dog grooming business on the weekends, but I don’t have a lot of time with school, and soccer, and stuff,” Ashley revealed.

  Ryan’s eyes were solely locked on the eighteen-year-old brunette. “Do you want to make some money?”

  Ashley had never been one to pass up an opportunity like this. The chances at making spending money were few and far between at her age. “Um…yeah. How?”

  Ryan pointed at the stacks of boxes to his rear. “I could use some help unpacking.”

  “Totally,” Ashley smiled before looking at her mom. “Is that okay?”

  “Sure, I don’t see why not,” Jen answered, wondering why she was so quick to agree. She didn’t know the first thing about this man! “Do you want her to help you now?”

  Ryan nodded again.

  “Let’s get started!” Ashley cheerfully announced as she squeezed past their new neighbor and let herself into his house.

  Five Hours Later.

  Jen sprawled along the sofa with her Kindle, compulsively checking her phone for the hundredth time. She’d been texting her daughter every thirty minutes to make sure that everything was okay, but she was beginning to wonder if she’d been too trusting. She didn’t know this Ryan guy. She hadn’t even gotten his last name! And while Ashley had immediately responded to every one of her texts; five hours had passed since she’d last seen her daughter, and perhaps it was time to check on the two of them.

  The sound of the front door opening put an end to her worries.

  “Hey, Mom!” Ashley greeted her mother with a big smile as she strolled into the living room. “Guess how much I made?”

  “How much?” asked Jen.

  The young girl held up two crisp one hundred dollar bills. “Two hundred dollars!”

  “Two hundred dollars!” Jen shouted. “Are you serious? Jeez, I should’ve offered to help.”

  Ashley took a seat in the recliner next to the sofa. “And can we talk about our new neighbor for a second?”

  Jen sat up with a smirk before looking at Ashley. There wasn’t any need to keep their voices quiet with Tom having gone to sleep almost an hour ago. Playing video games for four straight hours was quite the exhausting lifestyle, after all. Sometimes she wondered if she was married to a forty-seven-year-old man, or to one of her daughter’s boyfriends. At least those high school studs would be paying her the proper sexual attention.

  She opened her mouth to give her thoughts on Ryan, but Ashley quickly cut her off.

  “Oh my fuckin’ God!”

  “Ashley!” Jen reacted, eyebrows raised in shock. Her voice had a mix of scolding and surprise to it.

  “Mom!” Ashley exclaimed. “He’s so sexy!”

  Jen glanced away, doing her best not to smile. Her daughter definitely wasn’t wrong.

  Ashley had been waiting five long hours to have this discussion. “Okay, he looks just like Pierce Brosnan, but his name is Ryan! Ryan! Isn’t that crazy? He’s like a combination of our dream guys. Oh my God, I didn’t tell you that he took off his sweatshirt once we got inside! You wouldn’t believe the body he has!”

  Jen turned back to her and questioned, “Really?”

  “His sweatshirt was bulky, but you could tell that he was in good shape with it on,” Ashley said, biting her lower lip. “But when it came off…”

  Jen had plenty of girl talks with her daughter. They discussed boyfriends, random guys, and sexual questions, but this was new. They’d never gawked over the same man before.

  “Lots of muscles?” Jen asked.

  Ashley wasted no time in nodding. “Muscles, veins, and when he lifted a box over his head—I saw abs. Abs, Mom!”

  “Abs?”

  “Sexy, yummy, glorious abs,” the young brunette purred. “He’s forty-five and he has abs! And hair like that! Mom, I gotta be honest with you, I think I’m in love.”

  Jen shot her daughter an unamused look, which resulted in a laugh from Ashley.

  “I’m just kidding, but not about how sexy he is,” the high school senior confessed. “He’s crazy good-looking and super nice, and he told me that he’s single and has never been married. How’s that possible?”

  “Sounds like a playboy to me,” Jen commented. “You want to avoid those types of guys, sweetheart. They’re just looking to use girls.”

  “He could use me all he wants…” Ashley grinned.

  “Ashley!” Jen raised her voice. “Seriously? Do I need to worry about this?”

  She sent a smile her mother’s way. “Relax, Mom! I’m just kidding. Anyway, I think you’re the one I need to be worried about.”

  Jen wasn’t following. “Me?”

  “Yeah, you,” said Ashley. “Your dream guy’s twin is living next door.”

  “I’m a married woman,” she announced before turning her attention to whatever show was playing on the television. She hadn’t glanced at the TV in hours, but was desperately trying to prevent her daughter from seeing any potential cracks on her face. “I don’t think about stuff like that.”

  Ashley giggled, “I know, but there’s nothing wrong with looking.”

  “There certainly isn’t…” Jen smiled as she slowly turned back to her. “And I’m going to be doing a lot of looking!”

  Now, this was the version of her mom that Ashley was familiar with. “You and me both! He actually offered me a cleaning job too.”

  Jen couldn’t possibly have heard that correctly. Who in the world would pay her daughter to clean? “Cleaning?”

  “Yeah, I’d go over there and clean his house once a week,” Ashley revealed.

  “You? Cleaning?” Jen laughed, beyond amused. “Does this guy have any idea how messy your room is?”

  Ashley rolled her eyes and said, “I know, but if he paid me forty bucks an hour to unpack his stuff, then imagine what I’d get for vacuuming and doing his laundry?”

  “Wait, you’re gonna do it?” she asked.

  “Absolutely,” Ashley answered. “It’s an easy gig, and where else am I going to make that kind of money in cash?”

  A few moments of silence passed before Jen broke the ice. “Abs and muscles?”

  Ashley stood up with a chuckle before giving Mom a hug. “Lots and lots of muscles. Goodnight, Mom.”

  “Goodnight, baby,” Jen bid her daughter farewell. Suddenly, she was in the mood for some action.

  Five Minutes Later.

  “Tom… Tom… Tom!”

  The thunderous sound of snoring was the only response.

  She pinched her husband’s nose shut and waited a few seconds. It was a rather cruel way to wake him, but it was about the only thing that actually worked. Dumping a glass of ice cold water on him probably wouldn’t even do the trick.

  Tom’s head shot up and he quickly looked around the bedroom in a panic. “Jen?”

  “Yeah,” she answered.

  He asked, “Is everything okay?”

  “I need Daddy to take care of me,” she seductively purred into his ear.

  That was the last thing the overweight husband wanted to hear. He’d been woken up for this nonsense? “Jesus Christ, Jen, really? With the daddy stuff again?”

  “What?” she asked. “It’s hot.”

  He shook his head once more. “No, it’s not. It’s weird.”

  “Come on…” she whined. “Daddy’s little girl has been very bad.”

  “You’re my for
ty-four-year-old wife,” Tom firmly stated. “You’re not a little girl.”

  Jen bit her lower lip, shooting him an innocent look.

  “Just go to bed, alright?” he huffed, fed up with her juvenile behavior. “I’ve had a long day and I just want to sleep.”

  She leaned in closer and pressed her mouth directly against his ear. “You can do whatever you want to me.”

  That peaked his interest slightly. “Whatever?”

  “Whatever,” she grinned.

  “Whatever” was Jen’s answer because she had no intention of having sex with Tom tonight. Well, physically, Tom would be the one in the room; but in her mind, Ryan would be the one doing the deed. His gorgeous face, his deep voice, and that body her daughter had described to her: tonight, she would be getting fucked by the stud next door.

  She watched him throw the blankets off himself and quickly position his body over hers. The pressure of his heavy weight already had her second-guessing her decision. Ryan sure the hell wouldn’t feel like a truck was pushing down on her chest.

  “How about you get behind me?” she suggested, struggling for breath.

  “I thought you said whatever I want?” he asked.

  She rolled her eyes and attempted to push his body up slightly to give herself room to breathe. Everything about missionary sex sucked: how vanilla it was, the lack of surprises, and the fact she had to stare directly into Tom’s face. The latter was probably the least charming part of the entire ordeal.

  “I’m gonna give it to you real good,” Tom grunted while laboring to pull down his boxer shorts. He finally completely the task and slid inside her.

  She’d never had a problem with Tom’s penis size. He wasn’t necessarily big, but he was more than adequate to get the job done. Other than his appearance, her biggest issue with him since his substantial weight gain was his performance in bed. It was slow, boring, and usually over in less than thirty seconds. She yearned to be ravished. She craved for a strong man to slam her against the wall and slap her ass so hard it stung. She wanted to be forced to crawl on her hands and knees with a leash around her neck. She just needed a man to use and dominate her in the bedroom.

  Was she really asking for that much? Don’t guys love porn? Why couldn’t he just do some X-rated stuff to her? Pull her hair, spit in her face, make her drink his cum out of a glass—her list of kinks and fetishes had exploded since she turned forty—but she didn’t have anyone to explore them with. Maybe Tom needed to be led. Perhaps she had to take charge of the situation.

  “Fuck your little girl.”

  He pretended to ignore her as he gave her another light pump.

  “God!” she let out an exaggerated moan. “Your cock is so big, Daddy!”

  He responded with an annoyed huff. Her role-playing wasn’t turning him on.

  She gazed up into his brown eyes and seductively moaned, “I want you to cum on my face.”

  “Stop,” Tom demanded.

  She asked, “What?”

  “Stop,” he repeated. “Just stop talking, okay?”

  “But—”

  “But nothing, Jen!” he interrupted. “I’m not your daddy, you aren’t my little girl, and I’m not cumming on your face! Just stop!”

  “Nooooooo…” she whined. “Come on…”

  He pulled out of her and rolled back over to his side of the bed. He’d reached his limit in regards to his wife’s absurdity. Ashley was the only person who should be referring to him as “Daddy.”

  “One time!” she begged. “Please! Just give me what I want and I won’t ask for it again!”

  “One time of doing what?” he inquired.

  “I want you to get behind me, and pull my hair while you fuck me as hard as you can,” she started. “I want you to call me names, and to slap me around, and to use me! Anything you’ve ever seen in porn that you want to try is fair game! I’m literally up for anything! You want to cum on the floor, grab me by my hair, and make me slurp it up? Go ahead and do it!”

  Tom couldn’t have been any more repulsed by what he’d just heard. “Oh my God!”

  “What?” she asked.

  “What? What!? Are you serious?” he reacted, offended by this level of perversion. “What kind of disgusting stuff are you talking about? I would never make you do something like that!”

  “But I want to do it!” she groaned.

  “Maybe you should talk to someone,” he noted, still shaking his head in disbelief.

  “What? Talk to who?”

  “Like a therapist or something,” he explained. “This isn’t normal.”

  Her sexual frustration turned to anger. How could two people have desires which were so far apart? “Not normal? Not normal!? Not normal is barely having sex; and when we do, doing it in fuckin’ missionary. God, I fuckin’ hate missionary!!!”

  “Keep your voice down,” Tom whispered. “And since when do you hate missionary? You’ve never said anything.”

  “Why do I have to say something?” she asked with an aggravated tone to her voice. “Why can’t you just know? Why can’t you be a man?”

  “Be a man? I am a man, Jen. What I wasn’t aware of was the fact that I’m married to a fuckin’ slut.”

  Her eyes bulged at his last comment. Tom never swore, and he especially never called her names. “A fuckin’ slut?’” Maybe she had something going here. There was a fire in his eyes that she hadn’t seen in a long time. Questioning his masculinity had bothered him. She knew that she had him close.

  “I’m a dirty little slut,” she said.

  Tom opened his mouth.

  Demand that I suck your cock. No, don’t demand it! Just grab my hair and fuck my face until I can’t breathe! Cum in your hand and make me lick it clean! Just do something kinky for once in your life!!!

  “Fine,” Tom huffed, pointing at the mattress. “If you want me behind you…then okay…I guess.”

  Yes! Oh my God, finally! Something other than missionary!

  She was going to get spanked, and have her neck snapped back, and do all the things those sexy porn girls did in the X-rated movies she’d become all too familiar with over the past decade. And all those amateur videos she watched of couples filming wild stuff? She wanted in on it! Tom would never look like the man she wanted to fuck, but he could still fuck her like a man.

  This was it! This was the turning point in her miserable marriage! She wouldn’t be sexually deprived any longer! She quickly positioned herself on her hands and knees and felt him slowly slide inside her before taking a short, quick pump. It was followed by another weak thrust. This wasn’t exactly the pounded she had in mind.

  She requested, “Fuck me.”

  His pace didn’t change.

  “Fuck me, Tom!” she demanded.

  “I am,” he said.

  “No, you’re not,” she huffed. “Just fuckin’ give it to me!!!”

  Tom responded by hitting her plump butt cheek with a light slap. She barely felt it. In fact, the thuds from his big, hanging stomach thumping against her backside were far harsher.

  She remained on her knees with her butt in the air and her head resting against her hands, bored out of her mind as her husband did his best to play out her fantasy. What was the point in lying to herself? She would never get what she needed out of him.

  Jen silently waited for him to finish before her misery was mercifully ended from the warmth of several spurts of cum landing on her butt and lower back. She climbed out of bed and silently walked to the hallway bathroom to clean herself off.

  She was strong enough to handle this. Plenty of men and women were stuck in shitty marriages. There was no reason to feel sorry for herself. She—

  She started to cry.

  Her hand rushed to turn on the bathroom wall fan to drown out the sound of her sobs. Why was she like this? Why couldn’t she just be happy? She had a beautiful daughter, an enjoyable career, a nice home, friends, and a husband who didn’t cheat or abuse her. She should be thankful for all
of that, but the one thing she wanted; no, the one thing she needed—she couldn’t get.

  Maybe it was time to look elsewhere. Even during all these awful years of being trapped in a dead bedroom marriage, she’d only ever tried to change herself and Tom. She’d never considered attempting to find what she truly desired elsewhere. There were so many options. An endless supply of men were out there who’d be up for giving her what she wanted, but it still didn’t feel right. Cheating on the man she’d promised to stay loyal to wasn’t something that she could just do on a whim. This wasn’t a game.

  She seriously needed to think.

  Chapter 3 – Finding Out About Mr. M

  Jen sat alone at the kitchen table, a familiar noise ringing in her ears. That sound was straight from her nightmares. She couldn’t escape it. Wherever she went, whatever she did, and no matter what she attempted to think about: that enraging commotion refused to leave her head.

  Crunch… Crunch… Crunch…

  Tom had traded shifts with his coworker and didn’t have to be at work until two in the afternoon today, so why could she still feel his presence at the table? There wasn’t an overweight, antisocial recluse sitting across from her on this fall morning. And not only could she still hear him; she could sense him.

  The soft, timid, passionless sex from hours ago lingered. She’d never even been presented with the opportunity to allow Ryan to seep into her mind last night. Her fantasy evening was rather lackluster without the main attraction making an appearance. There was no successful businessman, no ripped stud, and no real man who took what he wanted. It was merely another boring night with her mediocre husband.

  Why did she feel a connection with Ryan? She didn’t even know his last name, but there was a sense of chemistry in that brief moment on his front step. It was an impression that she couldn’t easily move on from.

  She could picture the way he moved and operated in the bedroom. She could visualize his love for rough sex and endless kinks. There was a certain vibe which resonated from the mature, successful, good-looking man next door. His presence created a powerful energy.

  She had occasionally encountered these mysterious types of men at the gym or while out running errands. They were the kind of guys who knew what they wanted, and went for it. Those same studs hit on her despite the wedding ring on her finger. And why would they care? They saw a woman they wanted, so they made their intentions perfectly clear, and receiving attention from those types of men was the highest of compliments.