A Happy Ending

Kaitlyn looked at the calendar, August 1, 2025 - 10 years since the divorce. She was lonely and she was bored. Life with Jared had been intellectually stimulating but physically frustrating. For more than 12 years they laughed and joked and discussed life together but when Jared climbed on top of her at the end of the day, Kaitlyn felt nothing. Night after night, the warm liquid ran from between her legs, evidence Jared was satisfied in the bedroom, while she was not at all, far from it. She had tried to guide his hand between her legs, but his slender fingers wouldn’t stay for long in the places she needed them to stay or he was too rough, having seen women being manhandled on porn sites and thinking that’s what she wanted. It was not.She tried to rub herself against him while straddling his hips from above, but he rolled her too quickly back to his favorite position with him on top. As a last resort, she wagged her beautiful rear end in the air so he would enter her from behind and she could use her own fingers to do the job, but he flattened her so tightly against the bed and rammed into her so hard, there was no wiggle room. After 12 years of fruitless s*x for herself while he night after night rolled over and left her in the wet spot, when she caught him with his new secretary, that was the last straw. Kaitlyn stared at the grid of single men, roughly in her age pool and within a 60-mile radius. She grazed her eyes across the photos hoping to feel some kind of tingling somewhere. Nothing. Finally, she closed her eyes and clicked. When she found the lacy black panties in the glove compartment of Jared’s F250, she knew right away. He’d been distant and moody for weeks. More moody than normal even. She’d always tolerated the swings from happy to slightly angry to chatty and then suddenly quiet. Always asking, are you ok? Is anything wrong? And always getting the same response, I’m fine. Are you ok? He’d mock her, transferring the blame, making her feel responsible for his happiness. But she lived with it, expected it even. Wasn’t that the price for having a husband who was intelligent and matched her own wit? Wasn’t she expected to walk a bit on eggshells and always be a little off center and unsure? Because when they clicked, they really locked into place. Bouncing ideas that often landed him a new account or promotion. Sometimes laughing so hard at each other’s jokes they literally rolled off the couch onto the floor once. So, she put up with the moodiness and the lack of physical satisfaction and grasped onto the wonderful times together until they got fewer and further between and then the lacy black panties. After the lacy black panties, in her new house on Elm Street, she was alone, and she was euphoric. She could breathe. The first night she ordered a pizza without pepperoni because pepperoni gave her heartburn, even the grease when she picked off the actual meat gave her heartburn, but Jared always insisted on pepperoni. She ate a sausage pizza withfresh mushrooms, not canned. And she ate all of it. Every bite, leaving no crust which was her favorite part but made her feel guilty to eat. This is what a great orgasm must feel like, she thought, shuddering in delight as she swallowed the last bite of soft doughy crust. The longer she lived alone, the happier Kaitlyn got. She became to understand her life with Jared had been oppressive. She was truly happy now and knowing the difference made her afraid of dating again. Year after year went by until ten years had passed. She’d had opportunities and mild flirtations even, but nothing concrete, nothing that resulted in the touching she now craved. She stared at the screen, at her random first pick from the grid of eligible men. Harry. He was a blonde with blue eyes. He seemed too pretty but Kaitlyn clicked through his pictures. He had a dog. She didn’t really want to date a man with a dog. Harry was divorced and self-employed. He lived 25 miles away in a small-town Kaitlyn had heard of but never been to. She clicked on his face and stared into his eyes … Her computer buzzed with notifications. Harry likes you! It said. Like him back or start a conversation by clicking here. Sophia jumped and then looked around. It was like Harry could see her! And then the computer buzzed again, You’re getting attention! It said. At the top of a short list of men who had visited her profile was Harry, 42. Oh, he can see me looking at him just like I can see him, Kaitlyn thought, her face turning pink for no good reason. Before she could do anything further, her computer buzzed again. Are you going to stalk me or say hello? Harry asked with a smiley face. Sophia slammed her laptop closed abruptly and walked away. This was too much. She went into the kitchen and poured a glass of wine. She could hear the computer pinging from across the room. She sat back on the couch and took a sip of wine, staring at the computer which continued to ping incessantly. Harry was either very annoying or she was popular. With half a glass of wine in her belly, she reached for the computer more at ease. In just ten minutes, 26 men had viewed her profile, 16 had liked her and three had sent messages. Harry was buried down at the bottom. She opened the top message. Ron, 50. Hi! You’re pretty. Want to meet? Was it really this easy? Kaitlyn wondered. She clicked on his profile. Baseball cap with brownish grey hair sticking out, probably balding, she giggled. 6 foot tall. Electrician. Separated. She browsed through his pictures, no dog. She started typing. Hi Ron, I’m new at this. Where should we meet?