Chapter Four, Reality Sucks (NSFW)

Rei’s Point of View

“Grace, I’ve got to go. The house won’t clean itself and there are no children here right now to completely undo everything I’ve done. If I'm fortunate, I might have a few minutes to savor the tranquility and cleanliness before heading to work," I chuckled wryly.

“A home with children isn’t supposed to be spotless. Tidy? Yes. But spotless, absolutely not,” Grace groaned.

No wonder she was the cool aunt; I knew she was right, but it was still nice to have a clean home. Sigh.

“Rei, you promised us we could celebrate your birthday. Your birthday was a month ago,” Grace reminded me.

“I’ve been busy,” I muttered.

Truthfully, I didn't want to go out. I had been to the club with Grace before, and it was enjoyable, but she was always trying to set me up with someone.

“I won’t try to set you up with anyone this time if you go,” Grace pleaded.

"Shiloh said she would babysit too if I paid her," Grace added hopefully. "You could crash at my place, like old times. Please? It'll be fun, and who knows how much longer your oldest will agree to babysit for just the going rate? She will be sixteen soon, and that girl is beautiful, just like her mama."

Onyx and Salem were much too young, but Shiloh was at that age where she may want to soon. My daughter was beautiful, with long blonde hair and blue eyes like me. She was taller, though. I was still standing on a chair to reach things in the cupboard while my daughter could easily grab whatever she needed.

Grace made a good point: I didn't have the strict rules my parents had with me, so I had a better relationship with my children. They weren't out of control. They had their moments, but for the most part, they were respectful, kind, and courteous. Most of the time, they were complimented on their behavior, and people were surprised that I was raising all three of them on my own. When my kids were ready to date, they could do so.

I didn't need to worry about my ex-husband's opinion in all of this, either. Greg and his family had disappeared after the last check was sent. I couldn’t even find information on them when I googled it. It was strange, but I also considered it a blessing. I could only imagine the influence the Ravenscroft family would have had on Shiloh, Onyx, and Salem.

"Will Chloe, Alex, and Sam be there?" I asked. "And where exactly do you want to go out to?"

Alex and Sam never lasted in a relationship, but they remained friends. We were all still single in our mid-thirties, and going out to a club with young kids grinding on each other didn't appeal to me. It didn't bother my friends, but it wasn't my vibe anymore.

"There's a new place that just opened up, and Chloe would be thrilled if we went. She's been trying to get us all to accompany her for weeks. It caters to a slightly older crowd and has a trendy, modern, yet cozy vibe. We can drink, dance, play pool, or just sit and chat," Grace suggested.

“It sounds good. Are we just hanging out with friends and having fun? No one is trying to set me up with anyone?” I asked.

"I promise I've given up. At this rate, you'll meet someone when you are ready to. I hope that you fall in love again, sweetheart. You are a gem, and any man would be lucky to have you in his life and his bed," Grace said.

"And on that note, I need to get ready for work. Shiloh is babysitting the boys tonight while I’m at work. I'll call and talk to her tonight. I'll pay her if she's okay with watching them overnight on the weekend. I know she's been saving for a car, and the extra cash would be appreciated," I answered before letting my friend go.

I glanced at my watch. I still had about three hours before I had to be at work. Did I even have any clothes that were suitable for a club? Wait, what would one even wear to a club like this? I grabbed my phone and opened the P*******t app, typing in 'club outfits for 30-year-old women' in the search bar. Wow, there are a lot of form-fitting outfits there... none of which I'd be comfortable in.

I sighed and closed the app. If it were a slow night at work, Mary could help me. She was hot, divorced at my age, remarried in her 50s, and Mary looked like she was 40. She was on the schedule for tonight, to work on the same floor as me. We’d chat. Mary would love to help me pick out clothes for a night out, and shoes. But I wouldn’t let her convince me to help pick out underwear. The last time I did, she added bumless high-leg cheeky panties and g strings into my online cart, and I ordered them without checking. I’d washed them and buried them in my underwear drawer. I couldn’t return them and didn’t know what else to do with them.

I laid out my uniform on my bed and grabbed clean underwear and socks from my drawer to put on after my shower. My hands moved over one of the G strings, and I picked it up to examine it. How did people wear these? Were they even comfortable? What would it even look like on me? I bit my lip, and before I could talk myself out of it, I tossed it, along with a clean, matching bra, on top of the dresser before showering.

I was agitated, and I knew why. I had the house to myself and wouldn’t waste this opportunity. I locked my bedroom door out of habit and opened my bedside table. Chloe and Sam had taken me to an adult novelty shop as a joke years ago, but when I got home, I ordered from them online. The box arrived in a nondescript package with secure delivery. I finally understood what an orgasm was after I followed the directions and used a vibrator for the first time.

Sex with Greg had always been about meeting his needs and following his directions. I was curious about many things, but he mocked my lack of knowledge, and I learned quickly to allow him to position me and make the noises he seemed to like. The little toys I’d bought over the years had brought me more pleasure than he had in the four years we’d been together. Although, I’d learned quickly to purchase versions that were not loud. I’ll never stop being mortified at one of my kids banging on my locked bedroom door to yell that I must have left my electric toothbrush on because a loud buzzing sound came from my room. I paid for the more expensive quiet vibrators that were still guaranteed to hit the spots I needed them to from that point on.

I let my vivid imagination take over as I used my toy. I imagined X’s rough hand pulling my long blonde hair back so that my body was against his while he gently touched and squeezed my breasts. He used his thumbs to gently massage my nipples in circular motions, squeezing them gently. X’s mouth was on my neck, kissing and sucking while he rubbed my clit, increasing his speed and intensity gradually. I was so wet from what I imagined him doing that I was dripping my juices all over my sheets.

I imagined him gently turning me around and capturing my lips with his own in a passionate kiss while X slowly moved his middle finger in and out of my vagina, teasing me at my entrance as he did. He guided me to lie on the bed and added another finger while X slowly licked and sucked my nipples. X ran his tongue over and around them as he used his middle and ring finger to stroke my g spot. But he didn’t stop rubbing my clit, and the combination of stimulating both of these spots had me squirting everywhere. I moaned in relief and satisfaction, chasing my release as reality set in and my fantasy was gone, replaced by an electronic buzzing sound. Fuck. Reality sucks.

I turned off the toy, went to my ensuite bathroom to wash and clean it, and put it back into its case in my bedside table drawer. I stripped the sheets and put new ones on. Then I showered, feeling calm and content, before drying off and getting dressed for work. On a whim, I decided to wear the silky black g-string tonight. No one would see it, and it was just taking up space in my drawer anyway. I also added a pair of plain thong panties to my emergency change of clothes bag, which I kept in my locker in case I needed something different to wear home. You never know what a shift will involve, and it's better to be safe than sorry.

I admired myself in the mirror wearing them. My body had healed well from three pregnancies, and I didn’t have stretch marks. I had not gained much weight for each pregnancy, so there wasn’t much to lose afterward. My breasts were more than a handful, and my ass looked incredible in the silky black g-string. I bit my lip, looking at myself. I looked hot! Why couldn’t I wear it for myself? I grinned as I put on my black silk bra and scrubs. I may not have a man in my life, but I could enjoy my body and not feel guilty about it.