The first thing I saw wasn't all that surprising really. After all, based on what Eli had told me earlier it was pretty easy to guess that Mason had sent me some kind of dick pic.

What did surprise me though was the déjà vu I felt seeing it. Lying back in his bed, a seductive smile on his face, holding his hard member invitingly? It was almost an exact copy of what Phil had been doing a minute ago. Or, what he'd been attempting to do at least. Mason's version was far more compelling.

I felt the familiar warmth growing between my legs as I looked at it. Now there was something I wouldn't mind sitting on.

The picture alone was already enough of a treat to satisfy me for the day. However, it seemed that Mason was the generous type when it came to this stuff. Just below the picture was a video with a small message attached.

Looks delicious. Can't wait to try it myself. In the meantime, here's one of MY favorite recipes.

I couldn't click the video fast enough.

Immediately, his hard member appeared to greet me. He stroked it slowly, teasingly. I felt the heat rushing to my cheeks as I watched him.

I mean, it wasn't like I was an innocent little maiden or anything. I'd seen guys jerk off in porn before. But that was different. There was no risk to watching porn. It would be embarrassing to be caught with, sure, but at the end of the day, it was harmless. If Phil ever caught me watching it, the worst I'd get would be some kind of self-righteous speech about decency and a complaint about why I didn't have sex with him instead. A headache to deal with for sure, but manageable. He probably wouldn't even remember it by dinner.

But this video with Mason? It was dangerous. A forbidden fruit that I shouldn't possess. That I shouldn't even have the means to possess. And that taboo only made it all the more enticing to have.

My heart raced as I watched him touch himself. I could feel the slight chill of the cool bathroom air between my legs as a wetness started to form there. Despite knowing the door was locked, I couldn't help but have my eyes wander in that direction. Like Phil might come in any moment and catch me in the act.

It was terrifying, exciting, and all too arousing. I slid my hand between my thighs as my eyes returned to the video, repressing a moan as I pressed my fingers against my tingling sweet spot.

I slipped my fingers inside myself, matching the speed of his strokes. Again, I had to physically bite my lip to hold back the chorus of moans that were desperately trying to break their way through.

God, I wanted to hear his voice right now. Low, husky, longing. The way it had sounded when he'd called me earlier. I wanted that voice to whisper in my ear until I forgot my own name, then call it out over and over again until it was all I could hear.

A small whimper of pleasure escaped my lips as the memory of his voice only helped to fuel the flames of longing and desire that were building inside of me. I bit my lip so hard it hurt.

This wasn't working. I couldn't keep my voice in. My eyes darted around the room, thankfully, they landed on the towel shelf. I quickly grabbed one and shoved it in my mouth, biting down on it.

The second I did, it was like opening up the floodgates. Muffled whimpers and moans spilled from my mouth as if they were trying to push the towel out themselves. That instant relief of pressure only made me even more uninhibited.

I leaned back against the wall, letting the moans pour out shamelessly. As his strokes started picking up speed, so did my thrusts. I pressed my palm against my sweet spot, grinding my hips as I fucked myself.

A few seconds later his strokes slowed and then stopped. His hard member throbbed as stream after stream of hot lust shot out, covering his stomach.

An odd sort of envy filled me at the sight. A longing to feel that sticky nectar dripping down my own body. To taste it, to touch it, to feel it sliding down my skin. A desire to be dirtied and marked by him in a way nobody but the two of us would ever see. To become his.

The image filled my mind as I pressed my palm against my sweet spot. Desperate for release.

Warmth filled my body, spreading out to my every last nerve and fiber. I moaned heavily against the towel as the world started to grow fuzzy around me. I closed my eyes, ready to surrender myself to the pleasure.

Until a loud thump scared me back to my fucking senses. I shot up in an instant, head immediately whipping towards the door.

Thankfully, it was still closed. I let out a heavy sigh of relief, the towel falling to the floor in defeat as I did so. My heart was pounding like I'd just run a marathon. My entire body was shaking with fear-laced adrenaline. I took a couple of deep breaths to calm myself.

It was fine. Everything was fine. Nothing happened. It was just a sound.

As my heart finally started to return to some kind of normal rhythm, I glanced back down at the phone in my hand. I frowned down at it, slightly annoyed.

Great. Well, that certainly killed the fucking mood. Now, all I was left with was a hollow, unsatisfied ache and an overwhelming feeling of frustration. Or, as I liked to call it, "A Typical Friday with Phil."

I let out another sigh, glancing at the shower. Well, might as well clean up now. I doubted Phil was still awake, but better play it safe just in case. Besides, I needed a shower anyway. I had plans early tomorrow.

Instantly, the thought brought a smile to my face. Right, I was seeing Mason tomorrow. I guess in all the excitement to see his message today, I'd nearly forgotten. I hopped off the counter and glanced one more time at the phone in my hand, mischief on my mind.

Maybe I should send him one more picture tonight. After all, it would be rude not to respond after he'd sent me such a nice message.

I giggled a bit to myself before turning on the camera. I put on a seductive face covering my bare breasts with my free arm. A teasing picture to both tide him over and keep him on edge for tomorrow. I sent it along with a quick little message.

Thanks for the recipe! See you tomorrow.

I set the phone on the counter and hopped into the shower. I squealed a bit as the icy cold water touched my skin.

Right. I only turned this thing on for noise earlier. I never adjusted the temperature.

Despite the rude shock, I was actually a little thankful for the cold water. It helped to clear my head in an instant and get rid of some of that hollow ache I still felt between my legs.

The urge to continue where I'd left off a moment ago was strong, but I held back. Aside from not wanting to be in the bathroom for a suspiciously long time, I was also trying to "save myself" for tomorrow. Things would be more fun if I was a little riled up and sexually frustrated. I'd survive being horny for one night.

Besides, it's not like I'd have to wait that long. If these messages were any indication, I'd probably have Mason fucking me by lunch tomorrow.

I paused suddenly at that thought. The strange thing was, I wasn't sure why I paused. I mean, yeah, we never explicitly said that we were having sex tomorrow, but wasn't it already heavily implied by this point? Why was I reacting as if I'd just realized this fact myself for some reason?

The answer came to me in an instant: because this was the first time I had ever faced the reality of what I was about to do.

In less than twenty-four hours, I was going to cheat on my husband. In less than twenty-four hours, I was going to have sex with another man. In less than twenty-four hours, I was going to cross a line that I could never uncross. A line that could end up costing me everything I cared about in my life.

But I wanted to cross it. God, more than anything in this world right now, I wanted to cross it.

I was sick of being Mrs. Henderson. Sick of the fake smiles, the company parties, the white picket fence neighborhood. Just for a day, an afternoon, an hour, I wanted to be Maggie.

I wanted to feel like my old self again. The person I was before I ever had the misfortune of meeting Phil. I wanted to do something stupid and reckless that I couldn't just backtrack on the second things got scary. I wanted that fear. I wanted that risk. I wanted Mason. And tomorrow, I was going to have him.

I shut the shower off emphatically as if ending the conversation with myself. That was it. No more waffling and chickening out. I was doing this.

That, however, was tomorrow. Tonight, unfortunately, I still had to survive another night as "Mrs. Henderson."

I took extra time toweling myself off. I wasn't sure exactly how long I'd spent in the bathroom, but hopefully, the answer was "long enough." I really didn't feel like trying to dodge "tipsy Phil" and his horndog advances anymore.

Luckily, my plans seemed to have worked out exactly as I'd hoped. Phil was passed out on the bed, snoring lightly. His phone was face up on the floor, glowing in the darkness.

Well, I guess now I knew what made that "thump" sound earlier. I walked over and picked it up. Not so surprisingly, it seems he'd been watching some kind of porno. Perfect, now I could play the victim tomorrow if he tried to guilt-trip me about not actually having sex.

I set the phone on his nightstand and quietly tiptoed over to my side of the bed. I tried to be careful not to wake him as I slid in. Again, luck seemed to be on my side tonight. I don't even think there was a pause in his snoring.

I stared at him for a second, taking in the full view of him sleeping naked across the bed. I always felt bad when I saw him naked. Not because he looked bad or anything, but it just felt like such a waste. Like putting wallpaper over mold.

Objectively, even I could admit that Phil was attractive. After all, why wouldn't he be? He took good care of himself.

He worked out in his free time, he dressed in tailored clothes, he took good care of his personal hygiene, he ate a decently balanced diet. As a result, he was, in fact, a walking piece of eye candy. It didn't surprise me that the women in the neighborhood thought he was a catch. Handsome man with a well-paying job? Not to mention how friendly and well-mannered he acted around them.

But that was all that it was. An act. As with everything else, Phil's appearance was strictly an extension of the public image he was trying to maintain. He was a beautifully decorated wedding cake. Pretty on the surface, but mostly fake. Inside he was all foam and dowels, a structure whose sole purpose was to support the outer decorations and nothing more. Not to mention, toxic if actually consumed.

Unfortunately, I was the idiot who got tricked by the pretty frosting and took a bite. And now, here I was. So disgusted by the personality of the man I married that even physical attraction wasn't enough to stop me from being repulsed by him.

Which is why I didn't feel guilty in the least about the plans I had for tomorrow. In a way, it actually felt liberating. I was finally doing something to separate myself from Phil. Something outside of his home, outside of his money, outside of his control. Something that had absolutely nothing to do with him. Something that was only mine. And, God, it felt good to finally have that.

A small smile filled my face as I finally laid down to go to bed.

Tomorrow. The word made my heart race with both fear and excitement.

I didn't know what exactly was going to happen tomorrow. I didn't know what, if anything, Mason had in mind for the day. I didn't know if he planned on this being a one-time thing or a full-blown affair. Hell, I didn't even know if I'd want to continue things after all was said and done.

All I knew was that I wanted to do it. I wanted to be with him. Even if it was only for a day. And that day would be tomorrow.