I was prompted to write a short story containing the following words:
This story is about Charlotte, Justin, and Marcus. With a short explicit, vanilla scene.
Length: 1727 words
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Twenty years of marriage, nineteen years loveless – that’s what it took for Charlotte to give in. She’d begged for intimacy and pleaded for a divorce – all continuously denied. Neglection isn’t an excuse for infidelity, merely the reason.
As she lowers herself onto Justin, taking him to the hilt, a moan erupts from deep inside of her. Charlotte bounces, pulls up as far as she can without his cock slipping out, and plunges back down. Her ass slaps against his thighs as she rides him.
“Fuck,” she groans and moves her hands to the bed behind her, trying to stabilise herself.
“Lean back, Baby,” Justin says, his hands on her thighs. He holds her still, stopping her from moving, allowing him to thrust into her.
The young man underneath her moves quickly. His dick touching every wall inside of her – filling her and making her feel whole again. “Please!” She begs on the verge of her climax.
He speeds up and hits harder, his balls slapping her with every thrust. As he meets his end, Justin pulls her down to sit on him, burying himself balls deep as he unloads.
Charlotte’s hand now on his stomach as she rocks back and forth, clenching and releasing around him – squeezing every last drop out of him. Panting and smiling, the ecstasy of their daily love-making session washes away all the pain of their separate lives – pure bliss.
Lying beside one another in Justin’s bed after each session has become the best part of their daily routine. At first, she was worried about him working from home. She thought he’d be fucking women on work time – she didn’t expect it to be her, though.
Charlotte sniffles, the guilt suddenly back. Consuming her and ruining her bliss.
Jason pulls her into his arms, their bodies intertwining as they cuddle in bed. He knows she’s sad; the tears well and fall every time. “Shhh…” He shushes, stroking her blonde hair as he cradles her. “He’s not worth your tears, Sweetheart.”
Charlotte sighs, her breathing uneven as she sobs. “I’m sorry.”
Holding her tight to his chest, Justin kisses her. Soft, caring, and loving kisses – something she’s not had from Marcus in a long time. “Don’t be. I only wished you’d accept my offer…”
Her chest tightens, a combination of guilt, happiness, and anxiety filling her as she considers his proposal once again.
Justin has been trying to convince her to leave Marcus by upping and leaving. He watched her try to save her marriage for years before making his advance. He helped her go through the diplomatic channels of separation to no avail. The last thing to do is for her to walk out, but pride stops her every time.
Charlotte shakes her head softly, biting on her lower lip. “I can’t just leave…”
Justin pushes her onto her back, climbing on top of her. “You tried to fix it, and you tried to end it, it’s his decision not to listen. But you don’t have to put your life on pause because of that twat,” he says before he leans down and takes her lips, wanting and intimate – a kiss that she’s not had from Marcus in years but gets from Justin regularly.
He pulls off her, knowing it’s time for her to go. Not that he wants her to – it hurts seeing her leave, to go back to him.
Charlotte sits up. Her lips press together to form a sad line across her face while she looks at him. Justin is fifteen years her junior – bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Yet only has eyes for her. After twenty years of marriage, she didn’t think anyone could look at her like that again. She’s not entirely sure if anyone ever has. “I need to get going,” she whispers.
He rolls onto his side, propping himself up on his right arm and wraps his left around her waist. He kisses her ribs, making his way up her side and back, finishing his trail on her shoulder. “I know,” he mutters against her skin. His hot breath sends a shiver down her spine.
She relaxes in his embrace as leaves open mouth kisses on her shoulder, his teeth grazing her skin. Her cunt throbbing, she wants more – much more, but she knows she will have to make do with the creampie he provided almost an hour ago. Charlotte takes a deep breath and pulls out of his embrace, grabbing her red dress from the floor and pulling it on.
Justin joins her in getting dressed, putting his trousers back on. Charlotte slips back into her heels and makes her way out of his bedroom, his long strides allowing him to catch up so he can walk his lover to the door of his apartment. “You don’t have to go…” He whispers as she opens the door.
Standing in the doorway, she cups his face and gives him one last kiss. A sad glint in her eyes. “I do…”
“Don’t you think not going home is enough of an explanation that you’ve left?” He frowns, his brows pulling together and creasing his forehead while he runs a hand through his thick, brown hair.
Charlotte looks down at her hands, fiddling with her wedding ring. Even while being unfaithful, she never takes it off. There’s no point – it’s just jewellery. The marriage has been miserable since the first year. “Maybe.” She peers back up at him, a sombre smile on her face. “I’ll see you tomorrow… If you’ll still have me.”
He bobs his head, a defeated expression on his face as he pinches her chin and kisses her one last time. “Always.”
Arriving at the penthouse, there are people everywhere. Marcus has organised another party to fill their silent apartment without telling her.
She moves past people, nobody paying attention to her, completely unaware she exists. She enters the bedroom, turns and locks the door behind her. The music is booming, and the chatter is too loud for her liking.
She removes her ring and places it on her bedside unit before entering the en-suite. Showering, washing away her sins – washing away Justin. Her stomach clenches as she sobs, leaning against the shower wall as Charlotte wraps her arms around herself.
After a few minutes, she climbs out of the shower and dries off in the bedroom. Pulling on a pair of lace pants and picks out a black pencil skirt and white blouse, laying them on the bed.
As she sits on the bed and pulls on her tights, she hears the bedroom door click – unlocking from the outside with a key. She looks over her shoulder and finds Marcus standing in the doorway.
Seeing her in just underwear, he steps in and locks the door. “You were late home today,” he says, the first words she’s heard from him in days.
She turns her attention back to her tights, making sure to pull them up evenly. “I got caught in traffic.”
Marcus makes his way around the bed to stand before her with his arms crossed. “I don’t think so; you would’ve told me.”
Charlotte looks up, anger boiling her blood. “Would I? You’ve not spoken to me in over a week… Why would I tell you anything?”
He smiles as he moves to sit next to her, watching as she pulls her shirt on and buttons it up. “I understand I’ve been a bad husband…”
Instinctively rolling her eyes, Charlotte scoffs, “that’s an understatement…”
Marcus’ smile fades at her words. “I didn’t think you’d cheat on me, though…”
He knows… Charlotte stands up, slipping her skirt over her broad hips and pulls it up to sit on her waist – trying to focus on getting dressed while tears well in her eyes. “You didn’t think I’d leave you if you ignored me for weeks on end? You didn’t think I’d seek comfort elsewhere?”
Seemingly unphased, Marcus shrugs. “I suppose I don’t like being treated the way I treat you…”
“How ironic… Because I’ve barely done anything in comparison to what you’ve done to me,” she mutters.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’ve been cheating on you for three months. You’ve been cheating on me since our honeymoon ended.”
He groans, “get down off your high horse.” He stands and begins to pace the length of the room.
Charlotte laughs, crossing her arms over her chest. “Three damn months, and you think you’ve been hurt? Try being faithful to a cheat for twenty years – nineteen years without love, passion, or intimacy. You’ve barely spoken to me for the past five years… We share a bedroom and yet hardly see each other, Marcus. I tried to fix it, I even tried serving you papers. What else did you want me to do?”
He stops pacing, his back to Charlotte as he stares out the window – looking across the city. “I didn’t want this.”
It’s like something breaks in her mind. Charlotte laughs as tears fall down her face, wiping them from her cheeks. “You didn’t want this? Then you should’ve thought about that before having mistress after mistress…”
“I want you to stay,” he whispers.
“For what reason?” She screams, twenty years of anger and emotional trauma finally spilling out. “For what fucking reason? You have your mistress; you don’t need me!”
Marcus turns to her, a blank look on his face. “I love you.”
“Love me? No, you love the idea of marriage. Of someone needing you. You do not love me.” Charlotte pauses. “You don’t know the meaning of the word love.” She shakes her head and approaches her wardrobe, grabs her suitcase, slings it onto the bed, and begins to pack.
Marcus watches as she hurriedly fills the case. “You’re leaving?”
He sighs as he slips his wedding ring off, placing it on the bedside unit by hers. “Fine.” He walks past her, unlocks the door, and vanishes into the party.
A weight lifts from her shoulders, her lower lip trembling as she pulls her phone out of her handbag.
Charlotte: I’ve left him.
Justin: Are you okay?
Charlotte: Amazing. Does the offer still stand?
She continues packing, grabbing as many of her favourites as possible, hoping never to come back here.
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