TEXT ME, CUPID // Episode 1, Scene 4
Previous: 1.1 // The Challenge 💘 1.2 // The Challenger 💘 1.3 // One Night Stand Gone Wrong
PANTIES, PENISES & BANK VAULTS
Thursday, December 7
Waking up with a woman’s lacy panties (black, of course) grasped in your hand is, Will reflected as he brushed his teeth the next morning, both… fucking amazing and, well, pathetic. Fucking amazing because… well, sex. Phenomenal sex. Gorgeous redhead. And she left his house without her panties. Fucking amazing.
Pathetic, because, well… he stopped thinking. That was self-evident. Still. It was really more fucking amazing than pathetic. He smiled.
Waddled from the bathroom to the kitchen naked. There weren’t a lot of ups, as he saw it, to living alone after fifteen years of marriage. But wandering around the apartment in the morning—any time, really—without having to put on pants rocked.
Was that pathetic?
Will frowned. Commanded himself to think about something else. Like… freckles. Freckles all over—he was pretty sure he kissed everyone one. Maybe missed two. Three. Next time.
Except there wasn’t going to be a next time. She said.
She might change her mind, he reasoned as he made himself a protein shake for breakfast. It was, after all, fucking fabulous sex. And everyone always said the first time with a new partner was not the best sex you were going to have, right?
She will change her mind, he decided as he downed a cup of coffee before heading out the door. She’ll text. I won’t. I told her I wouldn’t. But she’ll text. She’ll say…
He checked his phone and the OkCupid app. Three new likes. Two new messages.
None from Florence.
“Good morning, Daddy.”
“Good morning, Munchkin. All ready for school?”
“No. I can’t find my purple socks. You know, the ones with the elephants?”
He knew. He bought them for her for her seventh birthday.
“Have you asked your Mom?”
“She says she’s too busy to look for socks in the morning.”
A wave of anger at the fucking… at Amanda. A wave of shame—he’d say the same thing. He said the same thing, how many times? “Polly, just put on the blue socks, ok? Why does it have to be the unicorn socks today? We don’t have time to look for them. And none of this would be happening if you just put your laundry away on Sunday the way Mom asked you to.”
But now, he wasn’t there to be asked about the socks, to not look for the socks, to get frustrated by the socks.
“Look under the bed, Polly,” he texted.
A message from Amanda.
“Will, don’t undermine me with Polly, please. Let me deal with the fucking socks. You’re not here.”
And whose fault is that, Will thought, and this time, he finished the thought—you fucking bitch?
You should not, Will knew, call the mother of your children, the woman who was the love of your life, the woman whom until six, nine months ago you were certain you were going to love and live with till death do you part, a fucking bitch.
But sometimes, it was hard.
“Whose fault is that?” he typed back without thinking.
“And this is helpful?” she shot back.
Think of something else.
Bra under his pillow. Panties on the sheets.
He left them in the bed. He liked them there.
As he started on the short walk to his office, he forced himself to think neither about Florence nor how much he hated Amanda for… There was a silver lining. This walk was a silver lining, right? He no longer commuted, he lived downtown, among the bars, the cafes, the restaurants, he was within walking distance of his work, he was living the life he had dreamed of having when he was twenty-six, twenty-eight and already the owner of a house with a double garage in the suburbs, because Amanda wanted to plan ahead for when they would have a family.
And he missed the house and the… but this was good. This was good. There was a bra under his pillow and… Will smiled, and started to indulge in a fantasy. Florence would… well, Florence wouldn’t. Fine. One night stand. But he would… today, tonight, he’d hook up with someone else. Maybe on OkCupid, maybe on Tinder—maybe, it’d be a genuine old school in-person encounter—she’d come to the bank, and he’d solve all her problems, or she’d bump into him on the street, he’d meet her when he was getting his afternoon coffee… ok, move on, Will, it doesn’t matter how you meet, you just meet, and she’s fucking hot, way hotter than Florence, and you end up at your apartment, and into the bedroom, and she says, “What’s that?” and pulls those lacy panties from underneath her naked ass, and you just take those panties out of her hands and toss them on the floor, and say, “Those are from last night, don’t worry about them.”
Will smiled. His penis agreed, and he was grateful for the bulky and long winter coat.
Polly again? Amanda? His son?
No. Niko. Of course. Checking in, as he did every Thursday.
“Coming to the meeting tonight?”
“Of course. When was the last time I missed one?”
“Six years ago. And I’m still paranoid.”
“I’ll see you at 7, dude. And no beer afterward.”
Will laughed. There should be nothing funny about a sixty-five-year-old man texting “LOL.” But everything about it was funny.
He suddenly wanted to send a poop emoticon to Polly.
A picture of his cock—still twitching—to Florence.
“Still thinking about you,” he’d say.
He didn’t think, actually, that he’d ever send a picture of his penis to anyone. But apparently that’s what not just the kids, but everyone did these days. Amanda had pictures of Ranveer’s penis in her texts, as he had the misfortune to find out.
And, like cold water. No more erection.
And it was back.
Amanda and her new lover’s penis.
“Will? What are you doing?” He was standing in the hallway of the bank, just outside his office. Rosie, the executive assistant he inherited from the bank’s previous VP Strategy six years ago, was staring at him. With amusement and affection.
Maybe, with a twinge of lust. The thought gave Will both pleasure and—after a quick image of Rosie naked in the bank’s vault (every bank employee’s fantasy)—guilt and… he stopped thinking.
He adored her. He was so happy he managed to keep her, after… he flashed her a big smile.
“I’m playing this stupid game,” he said. “Never mind.”
He was pretty sure she could see his erection. He walked into his office quickly.
Would she text?
It was a nice bra.
She’d miss it.
Fuck. Wait—maybe she left it on purpose?
“Can I take your coat?”
Rosie stood in the doorway, looking at him quizzically.
She had totally seen his erection. She was not… taking his coat was not in her job description. And if it had been, that would have been one of the things she’d tell him she didn’t do on day one of the job. “My job is to help you do your job more effectively,” she had said. “I don’t get you coffee, I don’t pick up your dry-cleaning, and I don’t buy presents for your wife and children.”
“Can I get you coffee?” he had asked.
She thought about it, very seriously.
“Yes,” she said. “Every morning, and sometimes, when you’re acting like an ass, in the afternoon.”
“We’re going to get along just fine,” he told her.
And they did. Always. Even through the…
“Seriously, Will, you ok? Give me your coat.” Rosie stepped into the office and put her hands on his arm.
Will pulled back.
“Not just yet, Rosie. I’m…” He paused. His cock ached. “A little chilly.”
MERRY MESSY CHRISTMAS TO YOU!
- Scene 1: The Challenge – Friday, December 1 (releasing Sat., Nov 10, 2018)
- Scene 2: The Challenger – Sunday, December 3 (releasing Wed, Nov 14, 2018)
- Scene 3: One Night Stand Gone Wrong – Wednesday, December 6 (releasing Sat, Nov 17, 2018)
- Scene 4: Panties, Penises & Bank Vaults – Thursday, December 7 (releasing Wed, Nov 21, 2018)
- Scene 5: The Negotiation – Monday, December 11 (releasing Sat, Nov 24, 2018)
- Scene 6: Cute, Fab in The Sack, Not Interested, Also, Psychic – Friday, December 15 (releasing Wed, Nov 28, 2018)
- Scene 7: Routine To The Rescue, Sort of – Monday, December 18 (releasing Sat, Dec 1, 2018)
- Scene 8: Methadone Fail – Monday, December 18, continued (releasing Wed, Dec 5, 2018)
- Scene 9: In Case You Missed It The First Time- Christmas Sucks When You’re Divorced – Tuesday, December 19 (releasing Sat, Dec 8, 2018)
- Scene 10: Lies, Groceries & Plans: Thursday, December 21 (releasing Wed, Dec 12, 2018)
- Scene 11: Fake Christmas Eve Fails & Victories – Saturday, December 23 + Sunday, December 24 (releasing Sat, Dec 15, 2018)
- Scene 12: Sex, Stick & Carrot – Sunday, December 24, continued (releasing Wed, Dec 19, 2018)
- Scene 13: Dry – Monday, December 25 (releasing Sat, Dec 22, 2018)
Of course, if at any point, you can’t take it any more and want to read ahead, one-click Messy Christmas or pre-order the full Text Me, Cupid series. In this case, I thoroughly approve of your desire for instant gratification. 😉
(And if you’re on-track and devouring all the novellas as they realize–five more days until Saving Christmas is live!)
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Pingback: 1.5 The Negotiation #textmecupid #messychristmas #fullchapter #holidayread | m jane colette
Pingback: 1.6 Cute, Fab In The Sack, Not Interested, Also, Psychic #textmecupid #messychristmas #holidayread | m jane colette
Pingback: 1.7 Routine To The Rescue, Sort Of #textmecupid #messychristmas #newrelease | m jane colette
Pingback: 1.8 Methadone Fail #textmecupid #messychristmas #hotnewrelease | m jane colette
Pingback: 1.9 // In Case You Missed It The First Time: Christmas Sucks When You’re Divorced #textmecupid #holidayromance #messychristmas | m jane colette
Pingback: 1.10 // Lies, Groceries & Plans | m jane colette
Pingback: 1.11 // Fake Christmas Eve Fails & Victories | m jane colette
Pingback: 1.12 // Sex, Stick & Carrot | m jane colette
Pingback: 1.13 // Dry | m jane colette