Her Secret Admirer (Book Two) Read online

  Her Secret Admirer

  By Amanda Martinez

  © Copyright 2015 by Amanda Martinez- All rights reserved.

  In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.

  Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.

  This E-Book contains sexually explicit material and is intended for mature audiences. All characters are 18 years or older and all sex in this story is consensual.

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  Chapter 1

  “So are you going to stare at the green envelope all day, or are you going to open it and see what is inside?” Bob asked his wife Deborah for the fifth time.

  Deborah ignored the question, just as she had the first four times. Instead, she focused on the feel of the envelope in her hands. Her son Alex had brought it in after getting home from a sleepover at his friend Kevin’s house. There was no writing on the envelope; unlike the red envelopes she had received the previous week.

  Thinking about the red envelopes made Deborah squirm in her chair. Those had been the result of a bet between her husband Bob and Mark, a man she worked with. Bob had challenged Mark to seduce Deborah after calling her a MILF. The contents of the red envelopes had excited her, made her curious, but she had never really considered cheating on her husband.

  When she found out that her husband had set her up as part of a bet, Deborah became angry with the two men, but below that anger pulsed red-hot passion. She decided to embrace her status as a MILF, and made both men pleasure her until she collapsed. If those red envelopes could ignite that kind of passion, what would this green envelope do?

  “Fine,” Deborah finally said, “I’ll open it. But if this is another bet between you and Mark, I am going to buy a strap-on and use it on both of you!”

  Bob jumped back and held up his hands, “Scout’s honor, Debs, I had nothing to do with this card. I can’t be 100% sure about Mark, but I doubt it.”

  Deborah stared at her husband, trying to look menacing, and then in one quick move, she opened the envelope. She pulled out the green card inside and opened that. Instead of calligraphy like the red envelopes, there was a piece of paper with had comic sans print on it.

  “Well, whoever sent this card did not use your calligrapher, Theodore Jameson,” Deborah said, “So you know Bob, he refused to tell me who paid him for the two red envelopes. How much did you pay him?”

  Bob laughed, “I didn’t. That was all Mark.”

  “Hmmph,” Deborah grunted, and started to read the card.

  Deborah,

  I have watched you up close and loved you from a far for too long. This torture has to end. I thought you loved only him, but now I know your heart is big enough to love another. I must know, do you have room for me as well? Is there a chance for me to come in out of the cold? Please let me know there is a chance that my years of desiring you and being disappointed can finally end. If I have a chance, put this green envelope in one of the windows of your garage door Wednesday. If it is there, I will come out of hiding Friday night.

  For now, just call me Jealous.

  “Damn Debs,” Bob said after reading the card over her shoulder, “I’ve always known you were a MILF and caught the eyes of plenty of people, but this is getting ridiculous!”

  Deborah had to agree. There was part of her that was thrilled by the idea that she excited someone so much that they would write a card like this to her. At the same time, it also made her feel a little uneasy. This card was from someone who had known her for several years and knew where she lived. Most frightening, this person knew about her dalliance last night with Mark and Bob.

  “That is so embarrassing,” Deborah said to herself. She left the kitchen, ran up the stairs, and then entered her bedroom. Her eyes went to the window behind her king-sized bed, and she sighed in relief. The curtains were pulled closed, making it impossible to see inside. She then turned to the window that faced the street, and gave another sigh, but there was no relief. Above the window seat, the blinds were open and up.

  Bob entered the bedroom and asked, “What’s wrong?”

  “You didn’t by chance open the blinds this morning?” Deborah asked.

  “Sorry, Debs,” Bob said, “You know I don’t mess with those things. Do you think the green envelope writer watched us last night?”

  Deborah nodded, “Yes, and obviously he got quite an eyeful. Now, he thinks that I’m some kind of slut, the neighborhood bike, and he wants a ride. Not only that, he’s known and been infatuated with me for awhile. If I turn him down, there’s a good chance that I am about to lose a friend.”

  “I’m less worried about that,” Bob said, looking out the window, “then I am worried that someone is spying on us. What kind of weirdo leaves an envelope on someone’s car?”

  Deborah stared at Bob in silence, waiting for him to realize what he had just said. When he finally turned around to face his wife, he noticed the look on her face.

  “What?”

  “Really?” Deborah asked, “You think people who leave envelopes on cars are weird?”

  “Well, yeah---” he stopped, “oh, yeah, now I get what you are saying, never mind.”

  Deborah walked into the master bath and stared at her reflection. Her light brown hair was a mess, but her hazel eyes were bright and full of life. She pulled off the light blue sweats she wore around the house and turned on the water for her shower. As it warmed up, she ran a brush through her hair.

  “Care for some company in the shower?” Bob asked as he pulled off his own clothes.

  “Always room for you, but we don’t have any time for funny business. I need to get to the grocery story,” Deborah said as she opened the glass door to the tiled shower.

  “Then you should keep your hands to yourself then, Mrs. Campbell. I am nothing but a gentleman,” Bob said. He then made a liar of himself by pinching Deborah’s butt. She squealed happily and followed it with a sigh as Bob slid his hands around her sides and grasped her breasts.

  “Bob, I’m serious. We have already used up too much of the day relaxing around the house,” Deborah said as Bob let his hands massage her breasts. He then started moving the left one down below her waist. He ran his fingers through her sparse public hair until they found her opening. Contradicting her own words that they didn’t have time to fool around, Deborah’s legs opened, giving Bob more access.

  “Deborah, I just want to make you feel good. Don’t you want to feel good?” Bob asked. His index finger eased into her, while his thumb caressed her clitoris.

  “Yes, I want it,” Deborah answered. She leaned back against her husband’s chest as he manipulated her sex. His fingers danced in her flesh, bringing delicious chills to her soul. Bob kissed her cheek and then bent down to suck on her neck. His right hand squeezed her right nipple as his other hand continued an intoxicating rhythm on her most erogenous region. Deborah felt the iron hardness of his cock pressing into the small of her back.

  “Mmmpphh, I’m almost there, Lover!” Deborah said, “Keep…going….please….don’t stop!”

  “Never,” Bob said, “I’m never going to stop pleasuring you. I’m here to make you feel amazing!”

  Deborah let her drift towards the impending climax. The pressure and heat in her vagina almost became unbearable, and then it exploded, sending pleasure through all her veins and nerve endings.

  “Ohhhh Yeeeessssssssss
s!” Deborah hissed as her body shook in the water falling from the shower head. As each wave reverberated through her body, she almost fell to the floor, but Bob kept holding and caressing her. When the impact of the orgasm finally passed, Deborah stilled Bob’s fingers and turned around to kiss him.

  “That was amazing, Mr. Campbell!” Deborah said, and reached down to grab his cock. “Now it’s your turn.”

  Bob backed up, “Nope, we have stuff to do. I need to bag some leaves, and you need to go grocery shopping. I just wanted to bring you pleasure so when you go out, ‘Jealous’ can’t seduce you.”

  “That will never happen. I am yours, now and forever,” Deborah said, punctuating the declaration with a kiss.

  “And what about Mark?” Bob asked, kissing her back.

  Deborah blushed, “I wasn’t thinking he was long term, what do you think?”

  Bob shivered, “I think I am too naked and wet to have this conversation right now.”

  “Fine,” Deborah said, turning around to get her body wash, “but I think it is a conversation we need to have, just you and me first, and then with him.”

  Chapter 2

  Thirty minutes later, Deborah pushed a cart through her grocery store, staring at her shopping list. She had been going to this Marsh Supermarket for several years, and had developed a system to make her shopping trips as quick and efficient as possible. Her list was divided up to fit the order of the aisles. Six months ago, the store had made some changes to the layout, and Deborah had complained to the manager. For a solid hour, Deborah laid out her reasons why the store should go back to the original design. The next week, the aisles were back the way Deborah liked it. She liked to tell herself that she wasn’t the only one who had complained, but every time she entered Marsh’s after that day, it seemed like every person who worked there snapped to attention.

  Halfway down the cereal aisle, Deborah bent at the waist to grab a box of Fruit Loops for Alex. That’s when she heard a wolf whistle. The sound filled the entire store, and Alex could see people turning around to look behind her. So she turned around and saw her friend Ruth, with a smirk on her face. Deborah straightened up and wagged her finger at her friend.

  “You are a loud and obnoxious woman,” Deborah said.

  Ruth shrugged, “You forgot dirty and old.”

  “I would never call you old,” Deborah said, “because you are only 33, and we are the same age.”

  “Haven’t you heard? 33 is the new 53, especially if you are single like me,” Ruth countered. She stopped her cart next to Deborah’s and gave her a hug. Ruth had been a hugger for as long as Deborah knew her, and they went back to freshman year at the University of Indiana, when they had been assigned as roommates.

  As they separated, Deborah said, “Single? What happened to Brock?”

  Ruth rolled her eyes, “He turned out just like the others. He liked the idea of dating a crazy woman at first, but then became too needy and too possessive. He actually said he wanted to lock me down all for himself.”

  Deborah’s eyes widened, “He proposed to you? And you said no?”

  Ruth cocked her head, as she replayed the conversation in her mind, “Yeah, I guess he did, but he didn’t get down on a knee or have a ring, so I’m not sure. Still, I was planning on dropping him anyway, his dick--”

  “Excuse me,” a woman said behind Ruth and Deborah, “can me and my five-year-old daughter get through before you finish that sentence?”

  Ruth said, “Sure, but she might find it informative.” Deborah giggled behind her hand. As Ruth moved her cart, Deborah noticed her friend’s eclectic pick of food. There was a bag of rice cakes, three six packs of yogurt, a jug of orange juice, and three bottles of wine.

  “Umm Ruth, don’t you think you should buy some actual food while you’re at the supermarket?”

  Ruth peered into her cart and then Deborah’s, and said, “Well not all of us are domestic goddesses like you, with perfect figures.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with your figure, Ruth, and you know it,” Deborah said. With fiery red hair, long legs, a toned stomach and tush, Ruth had been commanding the attention of every man, and many women, in her vicinity for almost two decades. Pictures of her face and figure could easily grace any magazine selling sex, but instead she preferred to make money with her mind instead, as an investment banker. Ruth’s goal in life seemed to be to contradict every stereotype possible.

  They walked together through the store, Deborah following her list and game plan, while Ruth grabbed items seemingly at random. Throughout the journey, Ruth talked about the end of her relationship with Brock.

  “I will miss looking at him,” Ruth said as they walked down the laundry soap aisle, “you know that phrase washboard abs? He personified it. Hell, he may have been the inspiration for it. I loved just running my fingers over them and watching him plank or whatever the hell it’s called to get them.”

  Deborah made a non-committal noise, her mind flashing back to the night before, when she had first seen Mark’s stomach muscles. The thought made her ache with want for him.

  As if reading her mind, Ruth asked, “Hey, whatever came of your secret admirer? Did you call police or at least tell Bob, the great protector?”

  “What?” Deborah feigned ignorance.

  “The red envelope, remember?” Ruth asked.

  Deborah pretended to be confused and then said, “Oh right! That turned out to be a joke that Bob was pulling on me.”

  “Really? That punk! Pranking you like that. I hope you made him pay.”

  A smile that was half evil and half happiness covered Deborah’s face, “Oh yes. I made him pay.”

  They both paid for their groceries and walked out to their cars, which turned out to be right next to each other.

  “Are you stalking me, girl?” Deborah jokingly said.

  Ruth nodded, “Absolutely, Debbie! I watch every move you make, every step you take. Ever since that one time freshman year when we both got a little drunk…”

  Deborah blushed and covered it with a laugh, “Don’t bring that up…that was a strange night. Besides, you started it. I’d never drunk peppermint schnapps before.”

  “And yet, you chugged it down like soda,” Ruth said.

  “True,” Deborah said, “anyway, changing subject quickly. Do you want to come over for dinner? I’m planning on cooking pork chops, your favorite, and Alex got a new videogame.”

  Ruth shook her head, “Can’t, have a date.”

  “What? You just broke up with Brock!”

  Ruth said, “And? A single girl has needs, and we don’t all have secret admirers leaving strange notes for us.”

  “Fine,” Deborah said, “give me a call tomorrow so I can live vicariously through you.”

  Ruth got into her Mercedes SLK and said, “Something tells me, I should be living vicariously through you. Bye Chick! Love ya!”

  Deborah waved as her friend pulled away. As she filled her Volkswagen Tiguan with groceries, Ruth’s words repeated in her mind, coupled with the green envelope‘s message. Deborah’s suspicious mind began to suspect Ruth as the writer of the green envelope, but the pragmatic part of her brain quickly drowned it out. Yes, they had fooled around that one night, but Ruth was the one who had said the next day that it was a one-time deal. Deborah had been relieved, but there had been a part of her that had enjoyed their time together.

  Chapter 3

  Ten minutes later, Deborah pulled into her driveway, and popped the trunk to unload the groceries. Alex ran out of the house to help, so Deborah loaded him up with bags holding unbreakable items. As Alex took in the last of the bags, Deborah closed the trunk and turned around to find her neighbor from across the street walking towards her. Deborah said a silent prayer that Alex would not come back outside to hear whatever Matt Brown had to say.

  “Deborah, do you have a moment?” Matt said, with his right hand raised as he was asking for a teacher’s permission.

  Deborah let a fake sm
ile take over her face, “Sure, Matt. What’s going on?”

  “We need to talk about the way Bob cuts your lawn,” Matt said. He turned his head to the left and shuddered as he took in the view. Deborah looked on reflex, and didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Bob had obviously mowed the yard and collected the clippings. He had even edged the yard and cleaned up anything that was left behind.

  “Looks like he did a good job, Matt. What is your concern?” Deborah asked, quickly losing her patience for the man. She knew some people considered her too buttoned up, too set in her ways. But every time she heard someone say that to her, she pictured Matt Brown and smiled. Even on a Saturday afternoon, Matt wore a long-sleeved oxford shirt, buttoned to the top, and tucked into khaki pants. The creases on his pants and shirt were sharp enough to be used as lethal weapons. The only thing that seems to be out of control was his hair loss and weight gain. Deborah was positive the weight problem was a glandular thing, because Matt was endlessly walking around the neighborhood.

  “The problem is, we all decided at the last HOA meeting that we would cut our lawns in a diagonal manner and use the third from the lowest setting,” Matt said. He then gestured towards Deborah’s front yard, “Your husband refuses to follow those guidelines. He keeps cutting your lawn in some bizarre box format, and he also cuts it too close.”

  Deborah breathed deeply, doing her best to remain calm, “Matt, as you well know, the Home Owners Association refused to enforce your lawn care suggestions. We do not have to follow them. All we have to do is keep our lawn nice and neat, which my husband does very well.”

  The color of Matt’s face deepened to a brick red, but it passed quickly. Matt said, “Fine, if you don’t want to win Lawn of the Month, that’s fine.”

  “Good,” Deborah said, “Anything else?”