31 - Three Player Game
MFM / BDSM / Bondage / Flogging
Stacey stood in the kitchen and wondered where her life had gone wrong.
She had passed forty now. The years had gone by in a blur, each one seeming shorter than the last. Stacey had tried her best to cling onto her youth.
She was devoted to the swimming pool and her yoga class, and her diet was managed to keep her body trim and slender and supple, but it didn’t seem to help.
There were always girls younger than her, with their lives ahead of them and the opportunity to avoid the same mistakes she had made.
Stacey glanced down at her left hand, at the bare finger that had for so long been adorned by a golden band.
The dissolution of her marriage had been like a baptism.
It was as though a veil had been lifted from the world, and she had been given a new perspective on life, and what she saw disgusted her.
When she was younger, she had been promised a happy ending.
She had been told that, as long as she behaved herself and did all the right things, then she would have everything that was good, but that wasn’t the case at all.
Sure, she had a nice house, but her husband had left her for a younger woman.
Her son was on the cusp of adulthood and would soon be venturing out to begin his own journey, and where did that leave her?
Alone, surrounded by whispers and regrets, and it could have all been so different.
Stacey had ignored parts of herself, deep desires that had stirred within from a young age in the name of being a virtuous person, in the name of being a devoted wife.
Even though Mark hadn’t been the best husband in every aspect, he had given her a child, a roof over her head, the bills were always paid, and to an outside observer, everything was absolutely perfect.
In fact, over the years, many friends and acquaintances had expressed their envy over Stacey’s life, but Stacey knew that things were not as they seemed.
Mark had been different behind closed doors.
It had always been a battle for his affection, as though she had to beg to be intimate with him.
She always thought that it was men who were the sexually aggressive ones, but in her marriage, she was the one with the bigger appetite, and it often went left unsated.
She tried to be a good wife, she denied her desires when she wanted more, she never nagged him or rebuked him for his lack of interest because there were other important things to be considered.
But then he had left her, and she knew that life was a joke. All her years of unhappiness, of sacrifice, of compromise had been wasted. As soon as Mark had his head turned, he was gone like the wind, leaving her to wonder if she had ever known him at all.
Marriage and love were a sham. She had given up on so much, and for what?
It wasn’t even worth it in the end, and it felt as though her life had been wasted.
Her hair was still blonde, her lips still full, her body still curvy in all the right places, yet she knew there was something quintessential she was missing—youth.
From her vantage point in the kitchen, she could see youth in all its glory.
Kenny, her son, and his friends were outside, enjoying the sun.
It beat down on them in a golden haze. In this light, they seemed more like gods than men.
Each of them were athletic, so their bodies were honed and sculpted to perfection.
Their muscles were taut, their biceps swelled, and they were filled with vigor.
In many ways, they were still boys, still yet to be tormented by the rigors of the world.
They were pure and fresh with the world in front of them.
Stacey felt a stirring deep inside her heart.
She knew it was wrong, yet she could not help her natural instincts.
She did not know if she was attracted to them purely because of their physical attributes or because they possessed something she did not—a chance to make their lives better.
Either way, she found herself drawn to them in a profound way and often wondered what would have happened if she was one of the girls around them.
They were so carefree, unencumbered by doubt or regret.
They lived in each and every moment, each one more precious than the last. They were guided by instinct rather than experience, and this led to them being more adventurous and more exciting than the people Stacy met.
She had tried to move on since Mark had left her.
There had been blind dates, internet dating, dates arranged by her friends with the assurance that it would be a perfect match.
None of them had been. The men would be dull, uninteresting, and never sparked her imagination.
Perhaps she was being greedy. Maybe she wanted something she could never have, but a part of her longed for a second chance, a way to feel young again, to feel as though everything was in her reach, no matter how impossible it seemed.
She sighed as she gazed at the young men outside, doubting they knew how fortunate they were to be in this position.
The door opened, and one of them came in.
His name was Tommy. He was tall, with sandy hair, brown eyes, and a deep voice.
His skin was lithe and smooth. Stacey’s eyes darted toward him before she stopped herself, trying to remind herself that it was not proper to act like this around men young enough to be her son.
Still, a stolen glance wouldn’t do much harm …
“Afternoon, Mrs. Bourne,” Tommy said.
“I’ve told you before, Tommy, you can just call me Stacey. Besides, I haven’t been Mrs. for a while now.”
Tommy’s smile faded, as he knew he had misspoken. “Uh … yeah, I’m sorry to hear about that. Well, you look great, though. Have you done your hair or something?”
Stacey blushed at the compliment and pinched a few strands of hair between her fingers. “I had a little style done a couple of weeks ago. Thank you for noticing, Tommy.”
“You’re welcome. I hope you don’t mind. I was just getting a couple of beers.” He moved toward the fridge, his strides powerful, two strong legs carrying him forward.
As he moved past her, Stacey caught a whiff of his scent.
It was fresh and musky all at the same time, a mixture of deodorant and lotion and the kisses of the sun.
When he leaned into the fridge, she watched his back arch.
The sinews of his muscles stretched, and she felt a wave of heat rushing through her.
She placed her hand against the counter to steady herself as her knees went weak.
“Are you going to hang around for the party later?” Tommy asked, turning around abruptly.
Stacey’s eyes darted away. “I don’t know. I don’t think Kenny would like that.”
“Oh, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. Besides, it’s your house. You should get to enjoy it, as well.”
Stacey smiled. “That’s sweet of you, but I don’t think you want an old woman like me spoiling your good time. I’ll just stay out of your way and let you enjoy yourselves.”
“Okay, but don’t say you didn’t get invited. I’ll make sure to keep a beer cold for you if you decide to change your mind.” His smile was lazy but earnest, and before he left, he let his gaze linger upon her.
Breath caught in her throat as she thought she saw some intent in his eyes.
As he turned, his gaze fell down her body, and something twitched inside her, but was it really there or was she just imagining it? A man like Tommy could have anyone he wanted; why would he desire her when he could have some pretty young thing his own age?
And yet, the thought of him towering above her, every muscle hard and honed, his strong hands slipping around her waist and through her hair took her breath away.
Sweat beaded on her brow, and she tore herself away from the window, not wishing to torment herself any longer.
She chastised herself for being a desperate old fool, a stupid, silly woman who was letting herself get carried away with fantasies.
She’d had her chance at a happy life, and she had wasted it on a fraud of a man.
***
Kenny was a good kid and rarely had parties, so when he had asked to host one, Stacey was inclined to let him.
He never let them get out of hand, and there were usually just a handful of people who came to hang out, drink some beer, and listen to music.
As far as parties went, they were tame affairs, and the understanding was that Stacey would stay out of the way to not embarrass him.
She had set herself up in her room with some fruit and wine, magazines, movies, and books.
She had already taken a bath, so her skin was smooth and smelled like mango.
She wore a soft pink negligee, and her hair cascaded to the middle of her back in a golden waterfall.
She settled on the bed and began to relax as the sounds of the party began to thrum underneath her.
It was difficult to concentrate on anything as people streamed and swarmed underneath her and spread out to the garden. There were more people than usual.
She walked to the window and gazed upon the party like a voyeur.
There were clusters of friends who were laughing and joking.
She saw a girl making eyes at a guy who ignored her.
Stacey wanted to yell at her to go speak to him, but the girl turned away and sipped her drink, welcoming regret into her heart.