Lust and found

Our wedding day. The best day of my life. The start of everything I always wanted with the most perfect man that I couldn’t live without. “I Jessie, take you Luke, to be my lawfully wedded husband, and with this ring I promise to be yours and only yours forever.” It was the most beautiful wedding, held inside a grand hotel downtown. The ceremony was held on their rooftop patio, and the reception in their grand ballroom. The marbles floors glistened under the twinkle lights that were strung across the ceiling and the white drapery and candles at every table made the whole room feel warm and romantic. There was drinking and dancing and I was happier than I ever imagined possible. To most, this probably sounds like the beginning of our happily ever after, and let me tell you, it most definitely was. For a while. Not even a month later we moved into the most stunning craftsman style two story home in the suburbs of Detroit. It was my dream home and was set in the most beautiful family subdivision. It was the kind of life I never thought I’d be able to afford, as school was never my strong suite. Lucky for me Luke, my beautiful, kind husband worked as an industrial engineer, designing office buildings and high rises for a large firm downtown. He was brilliant, even as a entry level employee he was able to stand out for his work ethic and attention to detail. He is so bright, and I always knew that he would have such a successful career. Luke loved his work, and when he loved something he was relentless. He worked harder than anyone else and wouldn’t rest until the job was done. It was those traits that allowed him to climb the ladder rather quickly, meaning he was making a very good salary just a couple years into his career. Meanwhile, I took a job as a teacher’s assistant in a local elementary school, assisting in a grade three class room. The kids were sweet, some were a handful, but all in all I was content with my new title as Mrs. Roche. It was fulfilling and on most days, fun. But though I loved my new job, I knew the only title I really wanted to have was “mom”. Luke worked long hours, with an hour commute on each end. He’d leave the house by 7am and not return until twelve hours later. Just enough time to eat supper, go for his nightly run and usually watch an episode of our favourite shows, which most nights, included Suites and Chicago PD. By 10pm he was usually out cold in our master bedroom, and I’d stay up to clean up our dishes and make him lunch for the next day. This was something he never asked me to do, but he appreciated it so much that it was hard not to want to do it for him. The next morning he’d wake up at 6am, shower, eat his bowl of oatmeal crunch cereal, grab his lunch box from the fridge and he’d be gone again. I would wake up just shortly after he’d leave, and get myself ready. I was never the type of girl to take hours to get ready in the morning. Lucky for me, my long brown hair was naturally straight and manageable, so usually only needed to be brushed, I’d throw on some mascara, some blush and some lip gloss and I’d be on my way. I’d then walk the short distance to the elementary school to assist with the morning school yard duty before classes began. By all accounts our life was pretty ordinary, and extremely comfortable. I was exactly where I thought I wanted to be. After being married for just over a year, I started to hint to Luke that I was ready for kids. He, on the other hand, wanted to take things much slower. He wanted to be more advanced in his career before trying to start a family. I understood his perspective, but a part of me just didn’t feel complete yet and I knew that a baby would make me so, so happy. But every morning I took that little white pill that prevented me from falling pregnant just waiting for the day that Luke would say he was ready. Every few days he would ask me “did you take your pill this morning” and that’s how I’d know that he was in the mood. Our s*x life was great. Luke was a very generous lover, and knew exactly how to make me tremble. He would always start by kissing my neck, he would usually slide one hand up around my throat and whisper something in my ear along the lines of “tell me you want me.” And I always, always did. He had no problem picking me up and placing me where he wanted me. He’d caress my breast with his hands while sliding his tongue down my throat, then slide his hands down to my ass while thrusting himself on me fully clothed until I would beg him to take them off. He’d always take off his shirt first, he knew I loved his “V line” on his hips. We’d kiss some more, his head would makes its way down to my n*****s, and sometimes down even further, before I’d beg him to take off his pants. Then he’d push himself inside of me, and with all the build up I always let out a moan of pleasure as he began thrusting. We’d roll around the bed, or couch, or floor for a while until the c****x, he’d say “Jessie c*m with me” and I almost always did. It was great. I thought the s*x was unbeatable… He really was my perfect man. He was gorgeous, I swear he had the largest brown eyes I had ever seen. His thick head of hair was such a dark brown that it was almost black and it curled at the ends to make a gorgeous wave. His skin was tanned, a trait we always joked about that must mean he’s adopted, as neither of his parents had much colour at all. By all accounts he was picture perfect. was so lucky to be married to him. I couldn’t imagine anything better than what we had. Just three weeks before our second wedding anniversary, on the second weekend in May, Luke’s older brother Jamie celebrated his 30th birthday. Luke and Jamie were extremely close from the time they were babies, as they were just shy of two years apart in age. They grew up playing on the same sports teams and hanging out with the same group of friends. At 21 Jamie would sneak his 19 year old brother into the bars so that they didn’t need to be separated. They weren’t just brothers, but best friends. I was always so envious of them as siblings, since I did not tend to get along so well with my older brother and sister. To celebrate the occasion, Luke and I decided to throw him a surprise party. I was so excited! It wasn’t often that we had an occasion to dress up, get drunk and hang out with our friends and family. It was rare that we did it, but I loved to host parties. I’m not sure if I was just more comfortable in my own home, or if I subconsciously enjoyed showing off our gorgeous home to our friends. Either way, I meant well and this was an occasion that merited a party! So we decorated the house with balloons and steamers and a big “he’s thirty!” Sign on the wall above the dining room table. The morning of the party started out like any other Friday morning, Luke went off to work and I woke up to my alarm. Except on this morning when I walked into the bathroom to get ready for the day, I stared at my birth control package sitting where it always did in the top drawer of my vanity. Except on this morning, I decided I didn’t want to take it. It had been nearly a year since I started telling my husband that I wanted a baby, and it was a year of listening to his reasons for not wanting one just yet. So this particular morning, I got ready as usual, brushed my hair, threw on some makeup, picked out my outfit for the day, which included jeans as Friday’s were our casual day at the school. As I finished getting ready, I once again stared at the pill pack sitting next to my hair brush, but I closed the vanity drawer without touching the pack. I didn’t do it grudgingly, and it wasn’t going to be a secret, but I just couldn’t convince myself to take it.