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Mount Me Like You Mean It

Donna is in a dead end marriage, but she doesn't want to leave her middle aged husband. She seeks excitement, and she finds it once a new single father moves into the home across the street. Warning! This 5000+ word short story contains graphic depictions of explicit sex. It's only intended for mature adults.

Here is an excerpt:

He pulled protective gloves off of his hands. "What's the job?"

"A free bookshelf I found online. It's pretty beaten up." I batted my eyelashes at him. "It needs some love." I instantly regretted batting my eyelashes. "It's going to go into my son's room."

A look of concern came over his face. "It's not pressboard or particle board, is it? That stuff is crap and it can't be saved once it starts deteriorating."

I tried and succeed at not looking at his package in his jeans – even if it contained what I wanted most. "Oh no, it's real wood!"

He smiled and nodded. "Okay, that sounds doable."

Doable, I thought. I'm very doable! Jeez, I realized that sexual starvation must have led me to having a mental problem.
"Yes," I simply said. "It's very doable."

"Where is it?"

"Troy, that's the problem." I glanced over at his pickup truck. "I agreed to take it, and then I realized it wouldn't fit into my tiny Honda." I batted my eyelashes at him again. Jeez, why was I doing that again? "Can I borrow you and your truck?"
He glanced down at the four table legs he'd just made. "Sure. I could use a break. Where are we going?"

"A few blocks away. The intersection of Selena and Kitt."

"College Town?"

"I said it was a piece of crap that needed your skills, right? Who has shittiest furniture other than college students?"

"Oh, yeah, right."

So, we jumped in his truck, we got the bookshelf, and Troy was really excited. Apparently, the bookshelf was made out of mahogany, and it's a type of wood he really, really likes. When he parked back in front of his house, he said, "I can fix this up with no problem! It would be my pleasure."

"How much?" I batted my eyelashes at him again. Dear fucking lord, why was I always doing that?

"It just needs to be thoroughly sanded and re-stained. That's all. That guy was a dumbass to give that away. It's mahogany! I'll do for free, but you have to answer one question."

"Okay."

"Why do you keep batting your eyelashes at me?"

I sort of froze. "I'm being that obvious?"

"Yes, you are ...

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Mount Me Like You Mean It