Casey's Story Pt. 01

It was Sunday morning and Casey stepped out of the shower to a room full of steam and a hint of the smell of coffee Jonathan was brewing wafting in from the kitchen. She cracked the door open to let the cool air in and the steam out, but hesitated before reaching for her towel. Normally she would wrap it around herself and begin her after-shower routine, but instead, today, she chose to wait and let her body air dry.

She looked at herself in the mirror as the condensation slowly started to evaporate from the top down.

First the top of her head, and the hair she had pushed from her eyes just before turning off the water. It was dark brown and straight and normally draped just to her shoulders, but at the moment it was wet and heavy against the back of her neck. It was her favorite feature. She always felt she could style it in so many different cute ways, and always felt a little bad when her friends complained that they could never get theirs to do what they wanted. She could never really relate to those struggles, not with her hair at least.

She had been told over the years, by lots of men, that she had a pretty face. Dark brown eyes, a small but wide nose, and thin lips. A chin just like her mother's. While she never believed any of them were lying to her, she sometimes had a hard time believing it. As she looked at herself in the slowly defogging mirror all she could focus on were ears that seemed too big and what she had recently learned were called her nasolabial folds which were far too distinct for her liking, but Jonathan had always told her he thought they were cute when she complained about it. She thought they looked too much like wrinkles running from her nose and around her mouth. She frowned at herself to try and get them to flatten out.

Casey was naturally slender with a long neck and a visible collarbone and a scattering of freckles on her bare shoulders. Her skin was fair and smooth, and as the cool air drifted in, it puckered and the nearly invisible hair on her arms stood on end. In high school she once overheard a boy at a party describe her breasts as "a small handful" when he did not know she was listening. She thought they were nicely proportionate with her body and her small brown nipples reacted to the cool air along with her puckered skin.

She took a deep breath as her stomach was revealed to her. She had been so busy for the last few months that she had been out of the habit of walking in the mornings and resistance training before bed. She would always be slender, but she felt slightly less toned than she had been before marriage, and where her abdomen used to be such a point of pride she now looked at it as simply acceptable, even if it was the kind of feature that a lot of women nearly kill themselves trying to achieve. She had always thought her belly button, which she pierced in high school and still bore the scar even though she never wore a stud there anymore, was very cute.

Her hip bones, like her collarbones, protruded visibly, and she watched her reflection as she ran a hand down her stomach to touch the thick, drying tuft of brown pubic hair as the evaporation exposed it to her. She kept it neat, not for anyone's sake but her own, and she traced her fingers along the newly trimmed edge of the hair. She shrugged a bit as she casually ran the finger along her labia, no longer really looking at herself but thinking about the night she had just woken up from.

Her legs were as long and slender as the rest of her body, but hidden behind the bathroom counter. A draft of cool air hit her suddenly as Jonathan opened the door to offer her a cup of coffee in her favorite yellow mug.

His appearance startled her and she jumped and blushed a bit, pretty sure he had not noticed what she was doing. He smiled and set the mug down and laughed.

"Air drying today, huh? Thought you'd be almost done. Gonna be ready in time?"

He quickly looked over her naked body and then nodded as he turned and left.

"Let me know if I put enough cream in there for you."

Casey sighed and tried to regain her composure.

"Thanks, babe, it looks perfect." She responded as the last of the condensation peeled away from the mirror, revealing her entire nude body for her to see.

She took a sip of the coffee from her husband, it was perfect, and quickly completed her routine. She grabbed her worn pajamas and panties off the floor and tossed them in the hamper, finally wrapped her towel around herself, and stepped from the steamy bathroom into the cold bedroom.

She pulled on a clean pair of panties, deep burgundy with lace around the waistband, and her favorite bra, black with lace on the front straps and wings, it was also a favorite of Jonathan's, and a cute teal sleeveless blouson dress. She only had time for a quick layer of makeup, not that she wore alot anyway, and quickly brushed out her damp hair before finally heading downstairs to where Jonathan was waiting.

He was in the living room, leaning against the bannister, looking at something on his phone, wearing his normal Sunday uniform - khaki slacks, white oxford button down, navy blazer, and black loafers - predictable as always. He smiled as he looked up at her, and complimented her on how she looked.

"You look amazing. As late as you were out last night, I'm surprised you were able to get up at all."

Casey shrugged at him and smiled.

"Can't miss a Sunday, can we?" She responded. "Let's go to church, pastor."

As she sat in the passenger seat, absentmindedly running her fingers over the edge of the faux-leather cover of the Bible on her lap, she thought about what her husband had said. She had not gotten home until nearly two in the morning. Her friend Beth's birthday party ended at about eleven; she could not stop thinking about the rest of the night.

She could not stop thinking about Rob, and what the two of them had done the other three hours before she got home.

===

Casey had actually met Rob before last night, twice in fact.

She started a part time job at a small, local used book store over the summer. She did not really need the money, but she was bored at home all day, and there was something about the calm and the smell of thousands of mass market paperbacks, not to mention the blasting air conditioning guarding her from the oppressive heat outside, that had given her a real purpose and reason for getting out of bed. A few hundred extra dollars a month was not bad either.

About a month ago, on a Monday morning, she had just finished the opening duties, and when she unlocked the door for the morning, there was a man standing there, looking at the sign on the door with the business hours listed. He startled a bit as the lock unlatched and the bell rang when she opened the door for him.

He was a little taller than Jonathan, slightly thinner, but also slightly more muscular. His eyes were bright blue, and his hair was a dark blond with silver creeping into his temples and the stubble on his chin. He was wearing green fatigue pants with an off white linen shirt with the top three buttons unfastened. He wore the same cologne her husband wore. He smiled at her, and she was caught off guard. He was handsome.

"Sorry, I thought you opened earlier, otherwise I wouldn't just be standing here like this."

Casey smiled back, tentatively, and nodded.

"No problem, come on in. Anything you're looking for?"

"Not in particular," he said as he quickly looked her over, as most men do when they meet a new woman, he was not subtle, but he was not leering either, "just have a bit of time before a meeting, and I'd heard good things about your shop."

He stepped in and passed her and the cologne wafted after him. She loved it when Jonathan wore it, too.

"Oh, this isn't my store, I just work here."

He looked back at her.

"OK. I'll just be a few minutes."

"Well, let me know if there's anything I can do."

He smiled.

"Oh, for sure."

He rummaged through the stacks for a few minutes, his cologne hanging in the air around Casey like a shawl, before she heard him make a startled noise. Before she could get up, he had popped back out from a row of paperbacks with a trio of dogeared books in hand, hustling to the counter.

"Been looking for this forever," He set a worn copy of "Lonesome Dove" on the chipped wood counter as well as a couple of old Louis L'Amour stories. "I know I could buy it new, but I prefer a book with a story. Heh." He chuckled at his own joke.

Casey smiled back and slowly rang up the books.

"Have you read it? I've only seen the old movie."

"Mini-series, actually," he corrected her, in a more stern manner than she expected. "Robert Duvall and Tommy Lee Jones."

"Oh, yeah, of course." She blushed a little. "Nine forty-seven total."

He paid, smiled at her again, and left.

"See you again," he added before the door swung shut.

He was right. They did see each other again, but not at the book store.

A week later, she took her old CRV into the shop to get the brakes worked on. The hose had sprung a leak, and she needed to get it replaced, so she sat on her phone in an old vinyl chair in the sitting room with her back to the door when someone came in and the bell on the door rang. She noticed it was the same kind of bell they had in the book store.

She also noticed the smell of her husband's cologne again. Jonathan knew she was going to be here for a while, maybe he'd decided to stop by with an iced coffee and wait with her. She turned to see him, but it was not her husband, it was the man from the book store two weeks before.

He had not seen her, he looked to be a bit frustrated and walked straight to the counter where a young woman was punching something into the computer.

"Are you Jessica?" he asked in the same surprisingly stern tone she remembered from when he had corrected her at the store.

"Yes..." the girl responded.

Casey tried not to eavesdrop, this clearly was none of her business, and she found her mind wandering a bit, getting lost in the cologne, remembering what it had felt like to be in that girl's position, and how despite his tone she wanted nothing more than to appease him in that moment. As she looked at Jessica, she imagined she looked just as small and flustered then as the receptionist did now.

The man finished with Jessica with a "thank you", which had shifted back to jarringly polite and charming, and a smile, and despite having just been reprimanded, Casey could see the girl was smiling back. Genuinely.

The man turned, and Casey quickly did the same, pretending she'd been on her phone the entire time, and he came and sat in the seat across from her. He looked nice. Wearing the same linen shirt from before, but pairing it with a pair of light grey slacks and dark brown loafers. He also carried "Lonesome Dove", the same one he'd just bought from her.

Casey suddenly became aware of what she was wearing. This was supposed to be a simple day for errands, so she had pulled on some leggings and an old t-shirt. Her hair looked great, of course, pulled up in a messy bun, but she knew she was just presentable enough to be sitting in a mechanic's waiting room. She decided to not say anything, and started a text to Jonathan to make a joke about the cologne coincidence when the man spoke.

"Finally getting around to reading it," he held the book up so she could see it. "Been so busy, I thought I might have some time while I waited here."

"I'm sorry?" She responded, trying, and failing, to play dumb.

"You're the cashier from the book store." He reprimanded her, and seemed to get a bit of satisfaction when she slightly straightened up at his words. "Tell me your name, I didn't get it then."

"Casey," she said reflexively, strangely glad when he smiled again in response.

There was a loud clang from the garage behind him, so he got up and moved to the seat next to her.

"Good to meet you, Casey. I like your ring."

She looked at her left hand. She liked her ring, too. Jonathan had it made specifically for her, when they got engaged, by selling off some of his old belongings.

They did not talk anymore after that. He sat next to her and read, and she deleted the text she had been working on for her husband.

===

So it was both surprising and not when she ran in to him again that Saturday night.

Beth was one of her closest friends. They met, like a lot of women their age, through social media, and eventually, after years of liking statuses and reposting they met for coffee. This had become a regular thing for the last few years, Beth complaining about her inability to find a good guy, despite a lot of guys attempting, and Casey playing along and finding small ways to try and relate with her own marriage. "It's not always perfect", "Sometimes he drives me crazy", "Settling isn't for everyone".

On Beth's fortieth birthday, they decided to do something special. A fancy dinner, dressing up in their best, going all out. It was Jonathan, in fact, who had recommended the restaurant, a newer Japanese restaurant in midtown that was widely recognized as one of the best, and most expensive, dinner spots in the city. It was notorious for events just like theirs, and Beth was so excited about the idea she hugged them both when he had suggested it. Jonathan blushed a bit, he was not big on physical touch from anyone except his wife, but just said he hoped all the girls enjoyed it.

In all, there were five women that went out that night. Casey and Beth, Beth's younger sisters Candace and Jordan, and a co worker she had mentioned before named Sheri. Beth was short with blond hair. She had been a dancer through college, but had to retire after a bad knee injury, and Casey was extremely proud of her for her bravery that night - she had chosen to wear a slinky black dress that stopped just above the knee, revealing the scars from the multiple surgeries she had during her younger years.

The other three were similarly dress up, Candace in silver, Jordan in red, and Sheri in her own short black dress. All looked stunning for a night out.

Casey did not have a lot of clothes for a night like this, but Jonathan had insisted she get something for the occasion. Beth had been such an important friend for her, and friends were always important to him. He sent her to the mall and had her send pictures of each of the dresses as she tried them on, a day that had been really fun and flirtier than he usually acted. Finally, he had suggested a navy blue sheath dress with a low cut neck. She was a little surprised by his choice, but loved the way it fit and had been looking forward to wearing it for a week since she bought it. She wore a silver pendant necklace, her only pair of heels, which were black, and wore her hair straight. Before she left, Jonathan gave her a strong kiss, and she could feel some strange feeling coming off him, almost like he was nervous.

"You OK?" she asked, after the kiss.

"Yeah," he said, breathing a bit heavy. "Just don't get to see you looking so fancy. I'm glad you get a chance, but I wish I was better about planning nights like this for us."

"I can wear a dress more than once," she said, stepping back. "Have a good, quiet night. I don't know when I'll be home, but I don't think it should be too late."

"No rush, have fun."

She saw a side of Beth that night she'd never seen before. Not a bad side, just a tipsy side. She was a little louder, a little touchier, a little flirtier. The five of them were a few glasses of wine in by the time appetizers came out and Casey was just sober enough to recognize a familiar smell waft by behind her. She saw Beth's eyes follow the man walking behind her, eyebrows raised a bit as Casey gripped the arms of her chair, a strange warm flushed feeling in her face.

"It's my birthday, think I can get lucky?" Beth joked with the table as she nodded toward the man, who had just made his way to the bar without noticing the table of women looking at him.

"If you don't, I will!" Sheri shouted back, a little louder perhaps than she intended, and it drew a bit of attention their way, including the man they had been ogling.

Casually, curiously, he turned to look and gave a kind of lopsided smile at the tipsy women. Sheri gave a cocky, drunken wave and he turned back around, either not noticing Casey or ignoring her.

But she couldn't ignore him. Familiar fatigue pants, dark chambray shirt, brown boots, cologne. She saw him order a drink, and did her best to keep her attention on her friend, but failed. He looked like he might be waiting for someone to join him, he shooed off a few people asking if the stool next to him was taken.

By the end of the night, the other women had forgotten about him. Candace and Jordan left a little early. Both were married and eager to get back home. So, Sheri, Beth, and Casey were left as the restaurant slid open the front windows, letting in the warm summer air, fusing the dining room and the patio into one space for the late crowd. Music played and the three of them sang along, danced a little, but Beth and Sheri were a little too drunk to stay on rhythm. Eventually, Casey ordered a ride home for each of them, figuring she and Jonathan could come get her car after church the next day, and after the other two had left, found herself waiting outside alone until her car arrived.

There was the cologne again.

"No book tonight?" She asked, without turning around.

The man stepped forward, sliding up next to her, lighting a cigarette, with the smell of beer on his breath.

"At a bar?" He winked. "I finished it yesterday, once I finally cracked it open I got through it pretty quick."

He looked at her as he said this and offered her the cigarette. She rejected it.

Their conversation stayed light, until she got a notification that her driver was held up and a new one was being sent for her. She sighed and sank back into a nearby railing, but misunderstanding what was happening, he reached out and put his arms around her.

"Shit, sorry, I thought you were falling."

He did not let go.

"Thanks, no, I just..." the wine had finally fully flooded her inhibitions. She pushed up against him and took in a slow drag of the cologne and cigarette and beer. Without thinking she kissed his chest. He seemed as surprised as she did.

He took a deep breath and tightened his arms around her.

"This way." He commanded. She obeyed.

They turned a corner and climbed a flight of stairs and he unlocked a door and he guided her in by the small of her back into a dimly lit, sparsely furnished studio apartment. A small kitchen with a pair of bar stools, a queen-sized bed, an end table, a couch facing a tv on the wall above a small bookshelf, there was "Lonesome Dove" and the L'Amour books, all dramatically shadowed by a single warm lamp and the glow from the fluorescent lights filtering through the window curtains from the street outside.

"Give me the ring." He commanded again. She obeyed again.

He took her purse and put them both next to each other on the counter and then turned to her.

"Shoes off." She obeyed again.

At his full, booted height, and at her diminished, barefooted height, he stood a full six inches over her, shadows cast across his face. He softly placed his hands on her hips and pulled her close.

"Say yes."

"Yes."

He slid his right hand to the back of her head and softly pressed her face against the spot on his chest where she had kissed him downstairs. She took the cue and did so again, then he unbuttoned his shirt to expose his skin, which she kissed.

His phone vibrated in his pocket and he cursed quietly into the silent room.

"Fuck," he whispered, and pulled out the device. He shook his head in frustration and responded to a text and then turned off the phone and tossed it on the couch.