Missed the previous chapter? Click here: Chapter 1
Disclaimer: sexual content
The following morning, Samantha woke up disoriented and confused. For a moment she didn’t know where she was.
She blinked a few times, looked around, and recognized her bedroom.
Of course I’m in my bedroom, she chided herself silently. Where else would she sleep?
She shook her head and rolled her eyes at herself. It’s been a while since she’s been away, never mind in someone else’s bed.
But why was she awake? She was just having the most delicious dream…
Samantha tried to nod off again. There was no reason to get up, the kids were with their dad this weekend. She felt guilty at her momentary sense of relief; usually she ached for the kids and looked forward to their return from their father’s place.
This morning however was a little different. Samantha relaxed back into her pillows, keenly aware how much she was enjoying the lack of obligations which typically awaited her at this time of day.
Her custody agreement, as much as she initially disliked the dissolution of things, ended up working out quite well for her. She enjoyed a full week and two weekends off from parenting every month, a time she learned to appreciate and anticipate in ways which surprised her initially. In a way it was a happy medium, to be an individual for a few days a month rather than a mom or a spouse or any other of the numerous titles she assumed before her divorce. Those few days of almost complete freedom ended up serving her quite well and significantly improved her mental and emotional health once she settled into the new post-divorce normal.
Samantha stared at the ceiling and reflected about missing the kids. Now that they were older and in high school, the hands-on demands were much sparser than they were when they were younger. She still missed them when they weren’t around, but not this morning. Not after that distracting dream she just woke up from.
Snuggling back underneath the covers, Samantha closed her eyes and willed her dream to return. It had something to do with the events from yesterday, with that singer who bumped into her and made her fall.
That did happen, didn’t it? Samantha inadvertently reached down to touch her knee. She wanted to feel the bruise left by her fall, the one she saw yesterday while getting ready for bed.
Yes, she could still feel it. Tender to the touch, but not really painful. No real damage was done during the crash with Adam.
Samantha sighed and turned to her side, trying to force her mind to call up her dream. What was it about again? She remembered waking up quite distracted.
It was definitely about something that made her feel good and somewhat tingly in certain places.
Samantha wrapped herself tighter into her duvet and let her hands roam around her body. Despite the soft cotton pjs she was wearing, she kind of liked the touch of her hands on her skin, still warm and smooth from sleep.
Gingerly, she ran her fingers over her breasts, tracing her nipples carefully, feeling them harden at her touch. She let her hands wander along the curve of her waist toward her hip and along her upper thighs. She finally dared to reach the inside of her thighs, inching closer to the one spot she really wanted to touch, longing for the dream to return.
Mmm, she thought. I could lie here all mornin
Slowly the dream came back in bits and pieces.
In the dream, Samantha was lying on her back, her legs opened wide, and there was a man…
Samantha turned onto her back and concentrated while stroking herself. She tried to call up the details of her fantasy. Who was he, the man in her dream? She tried to visualize him but she couldn’t make out his face. He was busy down there, his face lowered between her legs, completely absorbed and consumed by his lust for her.
Samantha inserted a finger deeper into her folds, stroking rhythmically to try and bring herself closer to climax.
But it was no use. Her dream faded, and so did the lovely sensations.
Samantha sighed and shook herself completely awake. May as well head into the shower, she decided, and tossed the duvet off her body.
I need to find a way to stop all these distracting dreams, she pondered while shampooing her hair.
How long has it been since she was involved with a man anyway? How long since she’d been in bed with a man? Had sex with a man?
Samantha sighed and tried to shut off her mind. She forced herself to focus on completing her shower so she could dry her hair and get on with her day. Also, she desperately needed coffee.
She quickly finished, got dressed, and walked into the kitchen to prep her French press.
But somehow, her thoughts kept returning to her dream. So distracting, she thought.
What was happening to her?
Maybe she should start socializing again, like she used to. Be out with people instead of stuck indoors watching Netflix.
Maybe I should have taken Adam up on those concert tickets, she considered a little remorsefully.
He did offer to give her some, and technically, she didn’t have plans for tonight. Most Saturday nights without the kids she opted to staying in and watching movies. Occasionally with a friend, but usually on her own.
Samantha recalled her conversation with Adam yesterday when they were sitting in the coffee shop. She wondered if he really meant it when he offered her those tickets.
We did exchange numbers, she reminded herself. I have his in my phone. Maybe I should call him? Or send him a text?
But Samantha didn’t call or text him. She barely knew the man, and besides, what if he was just being polite?
Exasperated with her overthinking, she began to wash some dishes at the kitchen sink.
“I’m going to put this whole thing out of my head,” she said out loud and busied herself with various chores around the house.
* * *
Later that same day, Samantha heard her phone ding. Usually during her kids-free weekends, she kept her phone close in case the kids try to contact her.
But this time, it wasn’t the kids. It was Adam. He sent her a text asking for her address. He arranged for someone to deliver the promised tickets to his concert.
Samantha felt her heart beat a little faster. She tried to sort out her feelings; was she excited? Scared?
Maybe a little of both, she decided. And flattered, too. She definitely felt flattered that this man she just met under such strange circumstances was sending her free tickets to his concert.
After a brief hesitation, Samantha texted him back.
He’s not going to send some psycho to my house, she reassured herself. She didn’t get the sense yesterday that he was like that.
Not long after she saw Adam’s text, to which she responded to with her address, a delivery guy knocked on her door and handed her an envelope.
She opened it and found two tickets and a handwritten note from Adam, inviting her, as promised, to his concert tonight.
That’s nice of him, Samantha thought, and wondered how someone as ordinary and unremarkable as her would be remembered by someone as famous and celebrated as him.
She debated internally if she had the courage to go by herself. There were two tickets here. Did he expect her to bring someone along?
Maybe I could call a friend, she debated.
Samantha wasn’t sure how to proceed. Would it be rude to waste a ticket if she went by herself? What would Adam think of her?
As usual, she was overthinking everything, making life complicated.
She would have to make her decision quick and act on it, otherwise she would chicken out and cancel. She scrolled through her contact list, reviewed her choices, but ultimately decided to keep the tickets secret.
You only live once, she convinced herself eventually, staring at the tickets in her hand. What if this was the beginning of a new life for her? She suddenly craved leaving the house and surrounding herself with happy noises. Why not a concert? She knew one thing: she liked Adam’s music which pretty much guaranteed she would enjoy herself regardless whether she was alone or with friends.
“I’m going to the concert,” she announced to herself firmly as she entered her bedroom. “I’m going to go out and do something fun for a change.”
To be continued – Chapter 3
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