Chapter 1: The Ambiguous Arrival

The light spilled in through the sheer curtains in Seraphina Voss’s gigantic living room, washing over the dusky veil of her skin on the plush leather sofa, as she lounged there.

At thirty-five, she shone with the light as it painted over her olive body, and through to her full D-cup breasts that strained against the thin white tank that clung to her like skin, as her dark waves of hair were lazily left to brush over her left shoulder after absentmindedly being touched along them.

And her hips and skinny yoga-toned legs swayed idly in tight pink cotton shorts, the fabric puckering way too much to delineate the smooth length of her inner thighs rubbing against each other with every movement.

No panties underneath, but they were small acts of rebellion against the numb excruciating drag that had seeped into her twelve-year marriage and her life with David as it was.

The chill from the AC ran the length of her body, making her nipples hard points pressing against the tank, sending small tingles through her as she scrolled idly on her phone.

Seraphina’s thoughts drifted, half in the dull ache in her lower back from a nagging pain she’d been carrying for days, half in the deeper restlessness clawing at her heart.

Scenes unbidden flickered through: the early days with David, bodies stretched and rubbed in feverish heat, his hands finding her curves.

Now the encounters were choreographed, functional, leaving her hollow and needing more.

Shame bit at her as she flipped through an erotica app, stories of amateurs looking to attract strangers simmering with heat making her thighs grind involuntarily.

A heat rose up from within her, a slick hint of dampness gathering between her folds, as a flush washed up her neck.

She bounced again, the snap and smack of the shorts against her neatly bare flesh a tease of what she longed.

Her phone chimed.

A text from Lisa.

“Bored out of my mind today. You?”

Seraphina replied, fingers a few magnitudes too fast.