Crack and Candy

I should have felt worse, but I couldn’t.

Image credit: Unknown.

I’d really like to believe that I was a good person at one time.

It was a boring week at work. The kids had just been off of school for some sort of non-holiday break and the other moms and I were a little restless.

“How about dancing?” Megan suggested.

“Dancing?” Chrissy asked, “You can’t be serious?”

“I am.”

“How long has it been since you’ve been dancing?”

“At your wedding?” I answered.

“But you know I can only dance if I’ve had three drinks — and I’m still nursing!” Chrissy had been nursing now for two years. We tried to be supportive, but come on. Time to cut the cord. Or the boob in this case.

“Line dancing isn’t really even like dancing,” Megan explained. “Plus, they give you a lesson before you start.” She sighed. “Guys, I really need a GNO. This will be fun, I promise!”

I thought for sure that Chrissy would object, but I think she could sense Megan’s desperation. Things were not going well at home. What was happening?

So the night was set. All I had to do was tell Daniel. This was no problem. He laughed about Chrissy’s nursing comment when I told him the whole story. Then he just looked at me and said, “Have fun.”

He was a good husband. Is a good husband.

We had a great time at work the next week, planning our outfits and arranging a meeting time. Megan and Chrissy decided to ride together. I would have felt left out, but I had an errand to run. I arrived a little late. I’m horrible with time.

When I walked in, I could see the girls chatting it up with a young man. I didn’t really notice him at first, but as the night wore on, I did. This is because after I arrived I seemed to be the sole focus of his attention.

He must be twenty six? twenty seven? I never asked and he never told. I was rapidly approaching my forty second birthday, so I didn’t see myself as the kind of person who gets hit on at the bar. I just saw him as an interesting sort. So different than the people I usually hang out with. Partially because of his age and partially because of the things that he was interested in.

It was like a finding something shiny and new. Fascinating. He never left our table the entire night.

We had an outrageous time. We danced. We drank. Well, Megan and I drank. Chrissy sipped on her Cosmo the entire night and ended up drinking almost half of it.

Soon the girls were hugging me goodbye. I was a little too drunk to drive at the moment, so when Spencer asked me to go outside and see his new truck, I thought…Why not?

He seemed so excited about it. He seemed so excited about life in general. It was refreshing to be around someone who hadn’t been beat down by the so-called ‘realities of life’.

He pointed out all of the “cool” things about his truck and then shyly asked, “Want to go for a ride?”

Everyone knows what my answer should have been. No. I realize that now. I realized it then. But I wanted to say yes, and so I did.

We drove around, just in town. Hey, a girl has to be safe. He was telling stories, making me laugh.

I rolled down the window. The cool air felt amazing as it wrapped around me. The next thing I knew, we had pulled up in front of an apartment building.

“I have something I want to show you,” Spencer smiled and jumped out of the truck. “Come on!”

And I did. Because it all felt so spontaneous and young.

Once we were in the apartment, it wasn’t a second more before we were in the bedroom and clothes were coming off.

Yes, I wondered what I was doing. Of course I did. But a twenty-something year-old was telling me that I was so fucking hot and his skin tasted like crack and candy.

I’d like to say that it was fantastic sex. As if maybe that would make it more acceptable. Lots of things in life get excused by great sex.

He had some skills and his cock was rock hard. He had me all over his bed in crazy positions. Lucky little twenty-something girls. They would be very happy with this.

But at forty one, I expect more. I expect someone more in tune with my needs, not just his own. But hey, it is what it is. He put on a show. I put on a show. He got off.

And what did I get? Addicted. Lying in the bed later, I found out that he was twenty two. Good hell.

I should have felt worse, but I couldn’t. It was like forbidden fruit, and I was Eve.

It didn’t get me everything I wanted.

But next time, maybe it would.

This has been a short story by Kristin DeLong. For more stories like this, please follow Pleasure & Pain, our Medium publication that explore the complex intricacies of love, sex, and relationships. To write for us, simply tweet the editor at @bonni07.