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I smile. I wonder if that’s what she wants to do with the rest of her days. Train her cat? Hang out with her friend the butler? That doesn’t sound like much. Does she have dreams and aspirations? And am I the piece-of-shit, not-interested husband who never asked her about them?
I should. Tonight, at dinner I’m going to question her. Drive her out of her mind with my curiosity. All I want is for her to be happy. Fulfilled.
Me:You take a video of it so I can see?
Charlotte:I forgot! I will next time she does it. I’ll give my phone to Jasper.
Me:Thanks for the warning. I’ll hold off sending the dick pic I was planning for now.
I send her a string of eggplant emojis as a substitute.
She goes quiet and I set my phone on my desk, chuckling to myself as I turn to face the window, staring at the city spread out before me. Haven’t heard from my mother yet, which is odd. I’m surprised she hasn’t reached out to me since we returned home, eager to have dinner with my blushing bride so she can show us all the housing options she found in Bishop’s Landing for us.
I don’t want to move there. I’m over it. I want to stay right where we’re at and enjoy our time in the city. We can live in Bishop’s Landing later, when we have a kid or two and we’re not wanting to raise them in the big city.
Damn, I sound whipped as fuck. And I don’t even mind.
Another text comes through and I see it’s a video from Charlotte of Doja the cat doing exactly as she described. Charlotte throws the balled-up piece of paper and the cat bolts off like a shot, grabbing the ball in her teeth and trotting back over to where Charlotte waits, dropping the ball onto her feet.
Charlotte squeals, grabbing the cat and giving her a big squeeze, Doja meowing and trying to scramble out of her arms.
I receive a text from my wife too.
Charlotte:OMG I’m so glad you didn’t send a dick pic when Jasper was filming. Talk about embarrassing.
Me:Your cat is tricky.
Charlotte:Isn’t she great? I think I’m going to put her in movies. Cats are so hard to train!
I don’t bother arguing with her. I’m sure the majority of them are easy to train, but what the hell do I know about cats?
Me:You still want that dick pic?
Charlotte:I never said I wanted it.
Me:But do you?
Charlotte:Perry.
I check to make sure my office door is shut before I’m undoing my belt and unzipping my pants, my cock out in seconds. It’s semi-hard and I give it a couple of strokes, thinking of Charlotte kneeling before me in the office, her lips wrapped around just the tip.
We need to recreate that fantasy, stat.
When I’m erect enough for my satisfaction, I grab my phone and take a photo, then ponder if I should send it or not.
Fuck it.
I hit send and wait. She doesn’t disappoint.
My phone rings within seconds.
“Perry,” is all she says when I answer the phone and the scandalous tone of her voice is enough to make me burst out laughing. “I can’t believe you sent that!”
“Did Jasper see?”
“No!” she shrieks. “But he was in the room with me.”
I chuckle. “Then you’re safe.”
