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A Girl Named Hope Ch. 04

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I texted Sarah when I got out of work. I headed home in the Jeep, but never received a text back from her, and she wasn’t there when I got home. I wondered if Sarah had a “Hope” of her own. This would explain a lot of things. I always felt that I had landed a more beautiful, and successful wife than I should have, and maybe Sarah had finally realized that too.

I pulled out an extra set of work clothes, and threw them in an overnight bag, along with my travel shaving kit. I changed into a decent pair of jeans, a Clutch concert t-shirt, and my leather bomber. I texted Sarah that I was going to the bar with Dave, and that I might not be home tonight. I told her not to worry, that we had a designated driver.

I was headed back out to the garage, when I passed a bookshelf. On the shelf that was just below my usual field of view was a thick pink hardcover book; which wasn’t in itself unusual, but something shiny was sticking out from between the pages. It drew my eye, and I walked over and picked the book up. It was the corner of a mirror sticking out between the pages. I opened the book up, and found that the inside had been hollowed out, leaving about a six-inch by five-inch hole to hide things in. The mirror had a residue of a white powder coating its surface. There was a pill bottle with no label that was half full of big white tablets. I pulled out my iPhone and Googled the identifiers on the pills. It came back in .37 seconds. It was oxycodone. There was also a small device that looked like it might be used to crush pills, and it was coated with the same white powder.

This explained as much about Sarah as her possibly having an affair. If she was snorting prescription painkillers, she would have mood swings, and would probably be less interested in life in general, and in me specifically. An addiction would also explain her being tired all the time, missing work, and her being away from home all the time, ‘at a friend’s house.’ This; surprisingly, upset me a great deal. I couldn’t honestly say whether or not I actually still loved Sarah, but the taste of betrayal was bitter in my mouth, as ironic as that may sound.

I needed to get the fuck out of this house before I lost it. My temper is slow to flare, but once it gets burning it is hard to put out. I put everything back in the book and replaced it on the shelf where it was. I even left the corner of the mirror poking out, just like I found it. I picked up my bag, and headed out to the Jeep. I sent Hope a quick text.

Me: I am on my way, and I have a bag packed to spend the night. I don’t know how much fun I will be. I have a lot on my mind right now, and I really need someone to talk to.

Bob: It sounds like you need something that will make you smile. I have the perfect thing. You can always talk to me about anything, babe. I am an excellent listener.

I got a pic of her in some little girlish looking white panties with pink polka dots, and a tiny pink bow in front. I almost groaned with desire despite all the things on my mind. This girl definitely knew how to drive me crazy. That was good because right now I needed a distraction.

The drive felt hours longer than it actually was. I was a little nervous. I had a possible deal breaking issue with Sarah, and now there was a thing between Hope and me. I could no longer say that I was ambushed by a pretty girl, or that it was a fluke. I had made plans to stay a second night with her tonight, and we had texted earlier about this not being just a booty call. She also kind of invited me to move in with her; but I was sure that was just talk. She did say that she would wait for me, and that she understood that things were complicated.

Complicated was very much an understatement. Don’t get me wrong, I really, really liked Hope, but confronting such a major change in my life was uncomfortable. I guess that was why that I was still with Sarah to begin with: inertia. Newton said that objects at rest tend to stay at rest, unless an outside force acts upon them. I guess Hope could be my outside force. She made me see what I was missing in life by just living with Sarah like she was a roommate. I didn’t even know what to think about the drug use. Smoking a little pot is no big deal, but opioids are a HUGE deal. Maybe the pills would be the straw that broke the camel’s back. I hated to think that I would use Hope as a rebound because of Sarah’s drug use. I needed to make sure that my motives with Hope were pure. She had been through enough shit in her life, and I didn’t want to hurt her like everyone else had in her past.

I rang the bell, and Hope buzzed me up. She answered the door wearing the little pink polka dot panties, and a matching baby doll t-shirt that left her midriff bare. Her belly button was pierced so that a tiny bow made from little pink stones was inside her navel. She smiled at my reaction to her outfit. It must have been exactly what canlı bahis she hoped for. She launched herself into my arms, her mouth meshed with mine, she wrapped her legs around me, and my hands squeezed her ample backside. I had wanted to talk before sex; but she, and my cock had other ideas.

I pushed her inside the apartment, bumped the door closed, and maneuvered her to the dining room table. I dropped the bag of Chinese food on the floor, pushed the place setting that she had laid out so carefully for our dinner aside, and rested her bubble butt right on the edge. I had lifted her like I would a child and pulled her polka dotted panties down in one smooth motion. I never even broke contact with her lips. I shrugged off my leather jacket, kicked out of my shoes, and started undoing my belt and pants. Her hands took over as I kissed down her neck. She had my jeans and boxer briefs down in no time flat and was pulling my cock towards her slippery slit.

I had felt that her panties were damp, but I had no idea how soaked she was. Her love juice was already dripping down and making a spot on the tablecloth. She guided me close, and I slid all eight inches inside of her in one long, slow stroke. She leaned back on her elbows, making her next to impossible to kiss, but giving me room to bang her properly. That is what I proceeded to do. I loved the way her smallish, pert breasts jiggled as my pelvis slammed into her.

“Damn, Rob. Your cock is so fucking huge!” She loved to compliment me on my size, but it must have had a little truth to it. She had started unconsciously scooting back on the table, so I grabbed her hips, and held her in place so she couldn’t run from my dick. “Yeah, give it to me Rob.” She was so goddamned tight. I started putting a bit more oomph into every stroke, and without warning my orgasm hit me hard. My balls, which had been slapping against her beautiful ass, burned as I unleashed what felt like molten hot semen inside her teenaged snatch.

“Oh my god, yesssss! Give me all your cum, Rob. Don’t stop!” She was very vocally appreciative of receiving my seed. I was willing to bet that the downstairs neighbors, and the ones that were right on the other side of the wall knew just how much she was enjoying getting my jizz. I pulled her hips forward just a bit more, and started banging her even harder. I felt the table cloth sliding back and forth; and a plate, and some silverware hit the carpet. She came hard, her body tensing like she was doing a sit-up. Her elbows left the table, and it was all that I could do just to keep myself inside of her. I felt the pressure of her cum squirting onto my stomach and legs. She totally soaked that end of the tablecloth.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck…” was her mantra as her body began to relax. She was visibly shaking. I picked her up, gathered her into my arms, and hugged her tight against me. Both of us still had on our shirts; and both of our shirts were soaked through with sweat. It seemed like we only had sex for a matter of minutes, but my knees were weak, and I was afraid that they would unhinge. I sat down in one of the wooden chairs and put her up on top of the table. She was still hugging me like I was her lifeline. Maybe I was her lifeline, and she was mine. Things seemed to be a lot simpler when we were holding each other. The funny part was that we were almost the same height with her sitting on the table.

The part of my mind that kept telling me how wrong this was seemed to have gone silent, while the part of my brain that kept telling me how right she felt was as loud as a fire alarm. She started kissing me slowly, and gently. I held her face in my hands, and we kissed like it was our first kiss ever. The turmoil and stress that had been surrounding me seemed to still when this beautiful, short, blonde firecracker held me close. It was so different than what I had been used to for so many years.

For the first time it crossed my mind that I might be falling in love with Hope.

After fifteen minutes of touching, and holding, and kissing we went about the business of dinner. We both decided to pull off our shirts, and eat in the buff. It seemed much more preferable to getting re-dressed. The tablecloth was a total loss, so we threw it onto the floor. Between her cum and mine, it looked like a piece of avant garde art. We picked up the spilled utensils and plate, and ate General Tso’s chicken, fried rice and egg rolls. We talked comfortably about how our respective days went. She was having issues with a statistics class that she was taking. I told her about Mitch “The Bitch,” and his constant hard on to get me fired. I eliminated Autumn from the story, of course. I cleared the table, and began washing the dishes.

“That is one nice ass, for a dishwasher.” I turned and looked at her. She was radiant. It was like our hearts, minds, and bodies were completely in sync with each other. I could tell that she could get used to playing house very quickly by bahis siteleri the crooked grin that she wore as she looked at me. I finished the dishes and grabbed a couple of bottles of water from the fridge. She took my hand in her tiny hand and led me to the bedroom. I lay down on the bed, and pulled her on top of me. She practically purred as she snuggled down against my chest.

“So do the things that have you twisted into knots have a five-foot-tall blonde as their root cause?” She said this more nonchalantly than she felt; that was, if I read the apprehension in her body language correctly. It was so much easier to read someone that you had shared many experiences with, so this was a little difficult. Her nails trailed across the other side of my chest, and goose flesh rose there, and on my neck.

“Not really; at least not the bad ones.” I felt her lower back relax just a bit after I said this. “I found out something really fucked up about Sarah today.” The tension came back at the mention of my wife’s name.

“Fucked up is a pretty broad category.” She spoke in a quiet voice that was just above a whisper. I let out an audible sigh, and I felt her back tense even more.

“I found a stash of pills hidden in a hollowed-out book. I Googled them, and it was oxycodone, the same stuff I got when I blew out my knee.” Silence ruled for a minute, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. I just enjoyed having Hope in my arms, even if we were talking about uncomfortable subjects.

“Maybe,” she offered, “maybe they were prescribed.”

“No, there was a pill crusher along with them, and a mirror that she used to snort them.” It was her turn to sigh.

“Maybe,” she added, “she was holding them for someone else.” I chuckled a bit, and I felt some tension leave her body.

“You know that you don’t have to defend her, Hope.”

“Oh, thank god,” she exhaled a breath in a rush that I didn’t even know that she was holding. Maybe she didn’t know she was holding it either.

“I understand that you don’t want to seem to bash her, but c’mon, those belong to her, and she is snorting them. It explains a lot. I thought maybe that she was having an affair.” Her back tensed right up again. “I know what you are thinking, and no; you aren’t the payback affair. If I found out that she was screwing around on me I would just divorce her. We haven’t been happy for a long time, and the drug use might be both a cause and a symptom of our unhappiness.” She didn’t feel compelled to say anything. She and I both knew the corollaries. If I would divorce her for an affair, then I wouldn’t be having an affair if I wasn’t going to divorce her. My mind drew this up on my mental chalkboard even as I said the words. The subconscious mind works in strange ways.

“Now I just have to confront her about it and see how things play out.” The comfortable silence played out again between us. I slid my hand down to her left ass cheek, and gave it a squeeze. I could still feel a little of the stickiness of the drying cum from our earlier sexual adventures.

“How do you see it playing out?” Her voice was just about whisper soft again; which seemed to add, rather than to subtract from the meaning put into those words.

“I don’t know exactly how she will defend herself, but I knew it was over between she and I as soon as I saw the mirror.” This was also seemed to be my subconscious mind making a decision for me.

“I almost feel bad for her,” Hope said, and by the emotion in her voice, I think she meant it. The question that she really wanted to ask was left unsaid. It hung in the air like an improbable lead balloon. I decided to just answer the question that she didn’t want to ask. Nobody wants to be seen as a homewrecker.

“This relationship has had a terminal cancer in it for some time. It just took me looking at it from the right angle to let me see it.” I paused, and pushed her small body up so that I can look into her cerulean eyes. “I just want you to know that what has happened between us didn’t break up what Sarah and I had. Our relationship was like a ship with a hole in it; no matter how much water that you bail, sooner or later that boat is going to sink.” I saw her watching my eyes, looking for any sign of deception. I wished that I could go back in time and right the wrongs that were done to this sweet girl. I pulled her in for a gentle kiss. Her lips tasted like strawberry lip gloss, and Chinese chilies.

“I don’t know what brought us together, Hope. I’m not sure that I believe in fate, or destiny, or karma. Maybe it was just total serendipity that brought us together; just a happy cosmic accident.” I made sure that she saw the emotion in my eyes when I continued speaking. “I don’t care what brought us together, I’m just happy that it did.” Tears ran from her eyes, and dropped onto my chest. I don’t know what made my feelings so strong, so quickly for this young woman, but those feelings were undeniably there. She leaned in and kissed me with bahis şirketleri a passion that I had never felt from Sarah. She made sure that my mind would be devoid of negative thoughts for the next half an hour as we made love slowly.

We lay in bed after, sweaty and sticky, and feeling divine. We talked about what all new lovers talk about when they are enjoying the afterglow of amazing sex: past sex, fantasies, and fetishes.

“So, what really turns you on?” It was an excellent probing question from Hope. I gave her a playful swat on the ass.

“I have always been an ass man, and I have never been with a girl with an ass even half as great as yours. Your ass is like the holy grail of behinds.” She giggled girlishly. I couldn’t believe that I was giving Hope a compliment, but the breaking down of a woman’s self esteem was just to get them to have sex with me. She was already a more than willing sexual participant, so why not make her feel special?

“What else, other than being a butt man. It doesn’t have to be something that I have, just turn-ons in general.” I gave her meaty rear end another swat, and I heard a little groan escape from Hope.

“I love bellies, almost as much as asses.” She nodded, probably remembering the amount of attention that I had spent on her stomach, and navel. “Your belly is excellent. It has really good muscle tone, and just enough softness to it. And the piercing…” I trailed off, just letting her see how in lust I was with her midsection.

“What else?” she queried. I gave her another slap on her ass, a little harder that the ones that I gave her earlier. I watched her face, and I wasn’t disappointed to see the look of pleasure, and to hear a more audible moan escape from her perfect pink lips. I knew what one of her turn-ons was.

“I like it when a woman takes care of her hands and feet.” She arched an eyebrow at this.

“How so?” She looked genuinely curious.

“I like it when a woman keeps her fingernails and toenails polished. I like when a woman has pretty feet, without a bunch of bunions and calluses.” She rolled off of me, and pulled her feet almost to her head. Yoga did some amazing things for sex.

“How do mine rate?” She twisted, and her feet were over her head, and right in my field of view.

“Your feet are very dainty, and well kept.” I really liked the matching light blue nail polish.

“Is that a strong fetish for you?” She stretched a little further, and I placed a soft kiss on the top of each pretty foot.

“No,” I answered. “Feet are never a deal breaker with me, but if a woman has pretty feet, I would be more likely to rub them, or to want an occasional foot-job.” She giggled at this revelation. “It is more a grooming thing. I like a woman that takes care of herself. Toenails and fingernails are a part of that. I also don’t like a ton of makeup. Usually a pretty woman can get away with a lot less makeup than they typically wear. I am a less-is-more kind of guy. Lip-gloss, and lipstick are fine, if she likes to wear it. Mascara and eye liner are really nice when done correctly. Eyes can be very beautiful; after all, they are the windows to the soul. A little makeup can highlight them nicely.” She looked at me inquisitively. “Yes, your makeup has always been fine. You are gorgeous! You could get along fine without any makeup at all.” She beamed at the compliment.

“Could I ask you something personal, without offending you? If you don’t want to answer, that is fine.” I laughed a great belly laugh.

“I kind of thought that you were asking personal questions.” I still couldn’t contain my grin. I already knew exactly what she was going to ask about. My ‘Number.’

“How many women have you had sex with?” She put up her hands in a stop motion. “If you don’t want to answer, that is fine. It’s just that you seem… experienced.” I chuckled again.

“I don’t know how exactly to answer that question. It depends on your definition of sex. Is only vaginal penetration considered sex, or are we counting oral, and anal?” She looked like she was going to expound on the parameters, but I interrupted. “If we are talking vaginal penetration as the sex qualifier, I would say between two hundred and three hundred, but probably closer to two. I don’t have an exact number, because I never kept score.” Her eyes went wide in the now darkening room. “I was wild in high school and college, and sometimes I would wake up with some random strange girl, in a random strange place. That is what too much alcohol, and poor decision making will get you. If we count oral, and other assorted ways to fuck someone; I would put the number over four hundred.”

“Wow, that many?” She paused for a second, considering, then looked confused. “There are more ways to fuck someone other than vaginal, oral, or anal?” She looked confused. Except for what that monster did to her, I thought that Hope had led a rather tame sex life.

“Let’s see. There are foot-jobs; I mentioned them before, hand-jobs, ass-jobs, thigh-jobs, and the always wonderful tit-job.” She still looked a little confused.

“What is an ass-job? Isn’t that just anal?” I shook my head in the negative.

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