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On the piece of paper were written the numbers `232, followed by a question mark. She tore the paper in two, watching the pieces as they fluttered into her wastebasket. Pushing back her sleek blonde hair, she smiled, feeling the familiar twinge between her legs. Later Carrie picked up her phone, dialed a number and said, Great! Same place? 3:30? At the affirmative answer she went back to work, trying to put the anticipation in another part of her mind for a few more hours. He arrived at the motel first and when Carrie walked in his jacket and tie were over the back of a chair and he had two glasses of wine waiting on the table. She shrugged out of her own jacket, slipped off her heels and set her purse on the dresser. He walked up behind her and slid his arms around her waist, pressing his hardness against her, kissing the back of her neck. You smell wonderful. Ive been thinking of you all day, he murmured in her ear. She turned to him and put her arms around his neck, pressing her. We'd been friends thanks to her older sister. And one night, in a joking conversation, I texted her and told her I was bored, and she should come visit. I didn't really expect anything out of it. Knowing Miranda lived a half-hour away, I figured it would be maybe a good text conversation, some dirty messages, things we'd done before. Until she showed up on my doorstep, knocked on my door, and came into the house.We were hesitant, talking, laughing, and then it led to the jokes. Then it led to dirty comments. And one thing led to another, and eventually, the clothes started coming off. I was in my mid-forties, and she was in high school. I was nervous as fuck. Until I saw her panties and her bra. Her teenage cleavage. Her boobs. And I felt my dick get hard. I just couldn't stop myself. And, all the while, I just kept thinking that if anyone found out, I'd lose my friend Amanda. I'd fuck up my family. I was married, and God knows my wife, being the prude that she was, if she found out.
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