She had discovered a mail order place that she could purchase various toys and devices, and since her husband traveled a great deal of the time, she could indulge her fantasies in the privacy of her home to her hearts content. And she DID have fantasies; some even bizarre, but all were her closely kept secret. She rarely had time, anymore, but when she did, she would play with herself for hours, often getting right to the point of orgasm, then backing off and starting all over again. When she did climax, it was often a thunderous one, and released wave after wave of spasms until she could hardly breathe.She was thinking about such a session as she backed her Mercedes out of its parking spot, and started down the street. She knew she shouldn’t be driving, but it was only a few miles to her home, and most of that was on back roads that had little traffic. She was watching the road carefully, and making certain her speed was just below the limit, though she had to correct her line, from. She wiped a palm across her cheek and sniffled, telling herself that it would all work out somehow. Grace wanted to be strong, she didn’t want to cry. Girls cried, she told herself, not women, and Chase had made her a woman. Rising from the loveseat, Grace began pacing in her room — a habit she performed whenever something weighed heavily on her. Her bare feet padded back and forth along the plush carpeting as she contemplated her muddy future. Luckily for the floor, her cell phone began ringing to distract Grace from wearing a path into the carpet. Distracted, she answered without even looking to see who it was, ‘Hello?’ ‘Grace? It’s me.’ ‘Ash?’ ‘Yeah. Um, is this a good time?’ Grace pushed a hand through her blonde waves. Her voice wavered from the recent water-works, ‘It’s good to hear your voice. Ah could use a friend right about now.’ ‘So it’s true? You’re engaged to Dylan?’ Grace closed her eyes and let herself fall into a sitting position on her couch, ‘Well, no one’s.
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