Chapter 2: The Second Time

Elena waited nine days.

Michael was home when she told him she was driving to Riverbend to look at fabric for the women’s retreat banners. She spread three old swatches across the kitchen table—soft ivory, muted sage, and a pale blue she had pulled from a box in the church storage closet—and pointed out the texture of each one while he listened. He nodded, asked a couple of practical questions about the budget, and told her to take her time. Elena smiled, folded the samples back into her bag, and kissed him on the cheek. The lie sat warm and heavy in her chest. So did the thrill.

She changed in the church bathroom after he left for an errand. The modest blouse and skirt came off. She stood naked for a moment in the cold room, then stepped into the short denim skirt with nothing underneath. The rough cotton brushed against her bare ass and the tops of her thighs as she pulled it into place. The tight red top went on next, stretching across her firm 34D breasts. No bra. She smoothed the fabric down, hyper-aware of the way the skirt shifted against her skin with every small movement. When she walked out to the minivan, the evening air slipped under the hem and reminded her, with every step, that she was completely uncovered.

The drive took thirty-four minutes. Willow Creek fell away behind her—quiet streets, familiar storefronts, the distant steeple of the church. The highway felt different. The leather seat was cool against the backs of her bare thighs. Dashboard lights glowed soft green across her hands. She shifted, pressing her legs together, then opening them again so the air from the vents could reach her. The memory of Mark’s cum had lived in the back of her mind for nine days. She had felt it during Sunday service while she stood beside Michael. She had felt it while she washed dishes. The ache had sharpened into something she could no longer ignore. By the time Riverbend’s lights appeared, her clit was swollen and she could feel herself getting wet against the seat.