{"id":1386,"date":"2024-11-20T14:24:33","date_gmt":"2024-11-20T14:24:33","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/emastonig.com\/?page_id=1386"},"modified":"2025-09-04T00:30:12","modified_gmt":"2025-09-03T23:30:12","slug":"dont-tell","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/emastonig.com\/index.php\/dont-tell\/","title":{"rendered":"Don’t Tell"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
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There are dozens of reasons Gina shouldn’t be in this hotel bar … one of them just walked in the door.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Gina shouldn\u2019t be here.  And yet here she is.  The internal debate has been turning around in her mind for two weeks now\u2014longer really when she thinks about the start of all this: an innocent conversation that turned out to be anything but.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She is 41 years old\u2014maybe that\u2019s<\/em> the problem.  Maybe if she was 25 again this wouldn\u2019t have gone this far.  Might not have even been something she paid attention to.  Not the way she has now at 41, going on 42.  (Although of course she\u2019s going on<\/em> 42.  When did aging get to the point where you no sooner clicked off one year than you started referring to the next\u2014although she has a friend who says that about decades, claiming once you hit 40, you\u2019re as good as 50.  Gina is not looking forward to 42 much less 50\u2014so maybe that\u2019s the problem.)<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Or maybe it\u2019s just that she can\u2019t remember feeling as excited as she has over these last two weeks.  Thrilled sensations set off by the sound of a voice, the ping of her phone.  Has she ever<\/em> felt like this?  Ever experienced this much excitement and apprehension, flattery despite self-doubt, fantasy complicated by ever-present reminders of reality?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Maybe if she was more confident?  She used to be more confident\u2014at least she thinks so, although she doesn\u2019t know why.  Good parents, perhaps?  Kind siblings?  Growing up middle-class in the suburbs.  A decent, not great student.  Married when she was three years out of college and still married to the same man.  She has a solid career in digital marketing, gotten rid of that nagging student debt, and been knocking extra principal off their mortgage\u2014not to mention investing money to help fund the kids\u2019 college.  Three of them, by the way, kids: 16, 13, 11.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Oh, God: three kids.  What is she doing here?  What, what, what?  Walking through a mine field that could blow up everything is one answer.  And for what?  Why?  A few moments?  She should walk out right now before it\u2019s too late.  And yet \u2026 she stays.  Three o\u2019clock in the afternoon, the middle of the week, sitting in a dark corner of a very nice bar in one of the nicest hotels in the city, where it seems so obvious why she is here Gina feels as if a neon sign is hanging over her head, red letters flashing, an arrow pointing at her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She had her hair trimmed and colored yesterday, so the blond streaks go all the way to her roots.  She still keeps her hair long, the way she\u2019s always had it\u2014long and straight\u2014but battles more split ends now and figures her days of long hair might be running low, otherwise she\u2019ll be one of those middle-aged women with hair over their shoulders that looks more like straw drying in a barn.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Gina\u2019s soft olive-tone blazer is open over a stretch black top with a neckline low enough to offer a nice inch-plus of cleavage, boosted by a smooth well-fitting bra which, for planned convenience, snaps in the front.  Her jeans are faded and baggy, worn with a wide leather belt.  Her leather slip-on flats with a block heel that add an inch to her five-six height are a bold burgundy color.  Her underwear \u2026?  The new thong ended up in the back of her dresser drawer.  What she wears now, under those jeans, is black lace.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

All of which felt very exciting putting on at the house an hour ago\u2014her fingers actually trembling a little\u2014but now seems as screaming obvious as her being in a hotel bar.  And yet she stays.  Sips her tonic and lime and tries to quiet her pulse and her nerves.  Because she has half an hour yet to change her mind.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Gina got here early with the express intention of having time to talk herself out of this, sitting at what could, by the end of the afternoon, be the scene of the not-actual but-to-many-it-would-be moral crime.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At home, there somehow seemed to be more reasons to go through with this despite the close proximity of all the reasons not too.  As if home had become a breeding ground that allowed a desire for this excitement to slip inside her.  Selfish to think this way, she admits, but home is so much of a family experience, Gina feels a little lost at times, as if her existence is only to support others without giving any consideration to herself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Although the world has tried to give that out-moded definition of \u201cwife\u201d some needed modification, motherhood, from Gina\u2019s perspective has not changed.  She would like\u2014just now and again\u2014to feel excitement, not as cheerleader for others but herself.  And she would like to inspire excitement\u2014true, vivid, pulse-pounding excitement\u2014in others by her presence, her touch, the anticipation of touching her.  And how long has that<\/em> been, other than too long?  As if that was no longer possible heading toward life\u2019s horizon at 41 going on 42.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

So here she sits.  With 25 minutes now to go.  Still time to change her mind.  Which she imagines she will do, despite all the reasons not to.  Because there are more reasons to leave than to stay.  Meanwhile, she will sit here and sip her tonic with lime and pretend there is gin in it, and think\u2014again\u2014about what could<\/em> happen in a nice room upstairs, under fresh sheets, in a big comfortable bed someone else made up, with the drapes closed, and where there are no dogs or kids who always need\/want\/complain about something, and there is an unfamiliar weight on top of her\u2014or maybe underneath her.  Underneath her\u2014now how long has that<\/em> been?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Gina\u2019s thoughts\u2014at least right now\u2014don\u2019t include the many things which could go terribly wrong, such as the way sex is often sloppy or embarrassing or disappointing\u2014which is probably why married people only have sex with their partners once they hit a certain age, when forgiveness of one another\u2019s physical faults becomes part of the job.  Not to mention getting caught, which would ruin so much it\u2019s unfathomably ridiculous that she\u2019s allowed herself to be here.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But in the mirror, in the right light, on good days, Gina doesn\u2019t think of herself that way.  As 41 going on 42.  As married.  As a mother.  She still sees traces of not necessarily who she used to be, but who she might<\/em> have been.  And while she is not looking to make that switch forever, doing so for a harmless afternoon would be nice.  (Note her mind has inserted the adjective, \u201charmless\u201d to the discussion, a not quite subliminal ploy played by that part of Gina\u2019s brain that doesn\u2019t want her to leave this bar in the next 22 minutes but wants to experience what that hotel room upstairs has to offer.)<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It is about at that moment in her thought process when the door to the bar opens and the fact that Gina lives 40 minutes outside of the city reminds her how that distance is not really that far away.  And that\u2019s assuming what\u2019s just happened is pure chance.  Because it could also be\u2014and isn\u2019t it really far more likely?\u2014not chance at all, but that one of those many things that could go wrong\u2014one of the worst, in fact\u2014has gone wrong, and this is all about to get very, very ugly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

On the edge of panic, Gina reaches for her phone and swipes her screen, pretends to be flipping through texts.  She keeps her head lowered, all the while watching from the corner of her vision as the woman who just walked in\u2014Tracy\u2014surveys the mostly empty bar, then angles toward one of four empty booths on the other side of the softly lit room.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Gina notices Tracy is dressed much the way she is\u2014a sort of comfortable hopefully-sexy look.  A flowing blouse untucked over stylish pants, although Tracy\u2019s bottoms are tight-fitting.  Tracy\u2019s thick hair looks freshly blown out, auburn waves over her shoulders.  Her ankle boots give off a kick-ass biker vibe, though Tracy is anything but Sturgis-bound\u2014not unless Sturgis opened a four-star resort.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

So perhaps this is<\/em> just a coincidence.  One hell of a coincidence.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tracy doesn\u2019t seem to notice Gina.  Instead, she settles into a booth and happily greets the hospitable about-their-age bartender who\u2014at this unbusy hour\u2014seems responsible for the entire place.  Tracy smiles and chats the man up the way Tracy does, subtly using her hands to accent whatever she\u2019s saying.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Gina, head still angled to her phone, her swell of panic lessened but still lingering, doesn\u2019t use her standard messaging app, but the one that deletes texts after they are read.  A decision suggested by Keith, who she now texts: Tracy is here<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tracy is Keith\u2019s wife.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Within seconds, Keith replies: ?<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Gina realizes her text requires explanation, so she sends Keith details: explaining that she is already at the hotel.  In the bar.  And Tracy just walked in.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

F!<\/em> Keith shorthands, which means Fuck, but then he quickly adds: No prob. We spent the night.  She did the spa.  Can\u2019t believe she\u2019s still there! <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Spent the night? Gina wonders.  What the hell?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Keith wants to know if Tracy has seen her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

No.  Not yet.  But she\u2019s right across the bar.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Play it cool, is Keith\u2019s advice.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Gina no sooner receives that text than she has to change her answer, thumbs rapidly typing: Now she\u2019s seen me.  Here she comes.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Because Tracy, big smile and wave, is now crossing the room toward her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Be cool<\/em>, Keith advises again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Such sage wisdom, Gina thinks wryly, then puts away her phone and phonies up her best smile to greet Tracy, who announces her arrival with a cheery, \u201cHey former neighbor.\u201d  Tracy\u2019s habit is not to call people by their name but give them a label.  \u201cWhat brings you here?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tracy doesn\u2019t show any suspicion, but Gina remains wary of being set up, reminded how the shrewd detective lures the prime suspect into a sense of ease before turning the screws and snapping on the handcuffs.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Gina\u2019s mind whirls.  Trying to think a few steps ahead, she replies: \u201cMeeting a friend.\u201d  Words no sooner uttered than she worries that was the wrong thing to say, that she\u2019s never going to be able to pull this off, and it\u2019s just a matter of seconds before she blurts out that she\u2019s here to fuck Tracy\u2019s husband.  She would be a terrible criminal, Gina has sometimes thought, unable to remain level-headed enough under scrutiny to tell a convincing lie.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Luckily, Tracy doesn\u2019t ask about Gina\u2019s supposed friend.  Instead, she exhales the most pleasured sigh as she sinks into the chair opposite Gina as if she can\u2019t possibly remain standing another second.  \u201cI just had the most delicious massage.  An hour of pure bliss.\u201d  Self-centered Tracy looks so relaxed she might melt.  \u201cKeith and I stayed here last night,\u201d she informs Gina, then pretends to keep her voice lower than she actually does and makes it sound daring, adding: \u201cDate fuck night.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Gina again thinks, What the hell?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As if sharing a prized secret, Tracy says, \u201cWe started doing this about a year ago.  Every couple months.  Pack the kids off to a friend\u2019s and check into a hotel for the night.  Fuck-cation.  Something about a hotel room…  Keith goes down on me.  Really good.\u201d  Tracy sits back, pleased and contented.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Gina thinks, Keith brought his wife to the same hotel where he now plans to fuck her?  What the hell?  What the hell!<\/em>  Thoughts interrupted when Tracy says:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt\u2019s almost like having an affair.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Gina feels her spine go rigid.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Luckily, Tracy doesn\u2019t notice.  She\u2019s looking for the bartender to make sure he realizes she\u2019s changed seats even though the place isn\u2019t busy at all.  When the bartender waves acknowledging reply, Tracy watches him for a few beats then tells Gina: \u201cYou know, I think I\u2019d fuck him.\u201d  Still looking at the bartender.  \u201cI bet he\u2019s divorced.  You think he\u2019s divorced?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Gina doesn\u2019t have a response, which doesn\u2019t matter.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tracy is off on her own tangent:  \u201cI always think of bartenders as tragic figures, don\u2019t you?  That they\u2019ve been through some tough times and come out the other end, and now they listen to other peoples\u2019 woes and give advice.  Probably better than psychiatrists.  Think of all the people they\u2019ve seen meet up in here and go upstairs and fuck.  And it\u2019s just a fuck.  Nothing complicated.  In, out, goodbye.\u201d  Tracy is looking at Gina now.  \u201cI\u2019ve done that a couple times\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Now Gina really doesn\u2019t know what to say and Tracy seems as if expecting a response.  Or maybe Tracy is just taking a breath before moving on to talk more about Tracy\u2019s favorite subject, which is Tracy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tracy says, \u201cI think Keith\u2019s probably done it a couple times, too.  Maybe…\u201d  She offers half a shrug.  \u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The bartender approaches with Tracy\u2019s glass of white wine, which he places in front of her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Keith\u2019s wife looks up at him and smiles, says, \u201cThanks, cutie.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019re welcome.  Anything else?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Gina half expects a suggestive response from Tracy, but instead her former neighbor tells the bar man she\u2019s good for now.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As the man retreats, Tracy picks up her glass, tells Gina, \u201cWedding band.  Did you notice?\u201d  Meaning the bartender.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Gina didn\u2019t notice.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhich doesn\u2019t mean he\u2019s married,\u201d Tracy suggests.  \u201cI read some guys wear rings to make it look like they\u2019re married to hit on women who\u2019ve been burned by their husbands and are looking for an easy revenge fuck, and they figure doing it with a married guy is the best way to do that.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Gina doesn\u2019t know what kind of websites, books, magazines Tracy might be talking about, but doesn\u2019t follow the logic and wonders if Tracy misread something.  And she probably shouldn\u2019t, but finds herself asking: \u201cYou really think Keith\u2019s had sex with other women?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tracy nods.  \u201cAll the traveling he used to do\u2026?  And those couple years when the kids were young and I kind of lost interest in sex\u2026?  Yeah, I figure he probably did.  Either that or watched a lot of porn.  Or both.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBut nothing you know for sure,\u201d Gina asks the woman who lived across the street from her for three years\u2014a woman she was friendly with and lost touch with after she and Keith moved to San Diego for Keith\u2019s job, but with whom she\u2019s renewed occasional contact since they moved back six months ago.  Gina last saw Tracy with Keith at that neighborhood party where Gina and Keith had that conversation that led to this moment.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBut do I know for sure he fucked someone else?\u201d Tracy considers.  \u201cNo.\u201d  She sips wine and shakes her head, her posture still apres<\/em>-spa relaxed.  \u201cBut if he did\u2026?  Well, he never left.  He\u2019s never been anything other than loving and decent to me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBut it would hurt if he had, wouldn\u2019t it?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tracy responds almost instantly, as if she\u2019s given this topic much previous thought.  \u201cI don\u2019t know.  Would it?  Maybe since I\u2019ve done it, too, I\u2019m saying it\u2019s no big deal.  But then again \u2026 maybe it\u2019s just no big deal.\u201d Tracy has more wine.  \u201cMaybe no deal at all.  Maybe just what it is.  A little fun.  And don\u2019t we all deserve that?  Fun?  I mean life\u2019s short and sometimes throws nasty stuff at you.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Gina hasn\u2019t spent much one-on-one time with Tracy since her ex-neighbor moved back to Austin, but this is definitely not the Tracy she remembers.  Maybe that had been Tracy during her not-interested-in-sex stage she referred to.  Gina experienced a bit of that too\u2014nothing prolonged and usually after one of the kids was born, more so after Nora, her first, than Cooper, her third\u2014but she never considered Dean might have used any lull in their sex life to get in bed with someone else.  Maybe she should have.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Maybe she was na\u00efve to think she and Dean have always been on the same sex page, and his ups and downs of desire matched hers.  Because if that was so, wouldn\u2019t that mean Dean might right now be sitting in some hotel bar waiting for the wife of one of their other friends?  Maybe Chrissy with her red hair and might-be-real-but-probably-aren\u2019t breasts.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Gina re-directs her attention to Tracy, who is saying something about her mother\u2019s cooking:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201c\u2026which was the most upset I ever saw her with my dad,\u201d Gina remembers.  \u201cBecause he liked Margaret Toomey\u2019s sour beef better than hers.  Especially the dumplings.\u201d Tracy laughs.  \u201cMaybe that was some subliminal sex trigger for my mother\u2014the dumplings\u2014but that really set her off.  For a week she slammed dinner plates in front of my father and said she hoped it was as good as Margaret Toomey\u2019s.  And poor dad, what could he do?  One slip up, one mistake in telling the truth, and he\u2019s banished to marriage hell for\u2014I don\u2019t know, it might have been longer than a week.  Maybe she never forgave him.  I was about 15 at the time\u2014that age you think you know everything, and definitely knew cooler stuff than your parents, and I almost said to my mother, what\u2019s the big deal, it\u2019s not like dad fucked Margaret Toomey, lighten up.  But of course, I never said that, but now sometimes I wonder if I had if my mother would have said he could go ahead and fuck Margaret Toomey all he wanted, and that she would have been happier with that than him liking her sour beef more than hers.\u201d  Tracy laughed again and sipped more wine.  \u201cMaybe it\u2019s all what we take pride in.  Or how we see ourselves.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMaybe\u2026\u201d is all Gina manages in reply, because Keith has just texted her a question mark.  He wants to know what\u2019s going on.  Gina looks at her phone, tells Tracy, \u201cMy friend.  Running late.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSure.  No prob.\u201d  Tracy says, No prob, just like Keith, one of those marital habits some couples share.  Then she gets out her own phone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Gina texts Keith: She\u2019s sitting with me!<\/em>  That exclamation point is meant to convey her astonishment at this entire situation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Keith texts right back, another, Stay Cool<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Gina wants to tell him, NOT HELPING, but instead sets down her phone and tells Tracy: \u201cHalf an hour late.  Doctor\u2019s appointment.\u201d  That is such a weak lie about her make-believe friend, Gina\u2019s sure Tracy sees right through it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Instead, Tracy, sending her own text, asks, \u201cWhat\u2019s that?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Gina says, \u201cMy friend\u2019s running half an hour late.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWell, I\u2019d keep you company, but I should head out.  Mo-Packed\u2019s going to be jammed if I wait much longer.\u201d  Mo-Packed is another Keith saying, referring to the MoPac as being busy, as in mo\u2019 packed.  \u201cKeith\u2019ll have half a conniption I\u2019m still here as it is from the late check-out fee.  He notices on the bill, I\u2019ll tell him I earned it, didn\u2019t I?\u201d  Tracy smiles, apparently referring to whatever sexual favors she performed last night.  Then her phone pings.  \u201cSpeak of the devil,\u201d she reports, checking her screen.  \u201cWants to know where I am.  Head-ing home<\/em>,\u201d she recites to Gina what she types.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

  Gina expects Tracy to leave, but her former neighbor seems in no hurry, sitting back with her half-drunk glass of wine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou know,\u201d Tracy says, \u201cyou look really good.  I meant to say something the other week at the Jenkins\u2019 thing.  I missed you when we were in San Diego.  We used to have fun.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe did.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt was mostly stuff with the kids.  I think Janie and Nora kept in touch for a while.\u201d  Janie is Tracy\u2019s oldest, the same age as Gina\u2019s Nora.  \u201cI know Janie was sad we weren\u2019t moving back into our old school district.  I think she was looking forward to being friends with Nora again.  But kids move on, don\u2019t they?  They adapt.  They shift.  Get in with a new group.  I think about friends I had through school, even college, and it feels like so long ago\u2026  Keith says old friends are like when a TV show you used to watch gets cancelled.  All you get is reruns in your head and when they try to do those reunion shows they flop.  Because the chemistry has changed.  We all move on.  New stuff.  New adventures.  I can\u2019t wait until my two are in college\u2014not to pay for it, but just so the house doesn\u2019t revolve around them all the time.  You know what I mean?  Do you feel that way\u2026?  Probably not,\u201d Tracy answers before Gina can think about a truthful response.  \u201cYou were always a better mom than me.  You had this laser focus on your kids.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat\u2019s not true.\u201d  Gina is suddenly awash with guilt and feels a compelling urge to confess to Tracy that meeting a friend is not why she\u2019s here, not that kind of friend, but she\u2019s here to have an affair, well, maybe not an affair, but sex, and she thinks it all might have been her idea, although Gina\u2019s never had that sort of idea before, so it must have been something Keith said that got her feeling this way.  Or maybe he just picked up on how she was already feeling and ran with it, got her to flirt with him at that neighborhood picnic at the Jenkins\u2019, which led to some texts, phone calls, one thing paving the way for another as it often does, desire putting in motion what starts as a fantasy then becomes a plan.  \u201cThat\u2019s not true at all,\u201d Gina repeats, and wants to say more but can\u2019t untangle truth from make-believe.  When her phone pings, she doesn\u2019t look at it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou can get that,\u201d Tracy invites.  \u201cMight be your friend.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It is Gina\u2019s \u201cfriend.\u201d  It\u2019s Keith: Looking forward to being with you.<\/em>  And there is an emoji of a heart made into the shape of an exclamation point followed by a heart that looks like \u2014what is that?\u2014a flame?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cShe on her way?\u201d Tracy asks of Gina\u2019s \u201cfriend\u201d, who Gina has purposefully never identified as a \u201cshe\u201d.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMm-hm.  Yeah.\u201d  Gina sets down her phone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAnyway\u2026\u201d Tracy says.  \u201c\u2026we\u2019re happy to be back in Austin.  We had some really good times in San Diego.  Met some new people.  Tried some new stuff.  But Austin always feels like home.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt is nice here.\u201d  Gina is running out of things to say, not that she\u2019s said much at all.  This afternoon isn\u2019t going at all like she expected, all those images in her mind of sex in a hotel room with another man, what it would feel like to be touched, to touch him, to have his weight, his shape on top of her, to have his cock inside her.  The thought of that still makes Gina quiver.  She drinks some of her vodka-less tonic, the ice melting, bits of citrusy lime floating along the surface.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

There is a devilish part of her that is excited by Tracy sitting across from her, as if stressing the daring nature of what she\u2019s about to do.  She can feel arousal tickling inside her\u2014an emotion that causes her hand to tremble ever so slightly as she sets her glass back down on the table, compelled for some reason to position the bottom of her glass precisely over the sweat ring already glistening on the shellacked wood finish.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She thinks, but does not say to Tracy, how she is going to go into a room upstairs, perhaps the same room where Tracy had sex with Keith last night, and she is going to take Keith\u2019s hard cock in her hand, and stroke it, and put it in her mouth, then take it inside her, and she is going to do that on top of Keith, she is going to get on top<\/em> of Tracy\u2019s husband and fuck him.  And she is going to come\u2014going to climax like she hasn\u2019t come in years, in a hotel room with no kids on the other side of the closed door, no barking dogs.  Just a connection to the man underneath her.  And she is going to relish the moment, every hard second, every movement of his erection that she directs over her clit, and she might even make a lot of noise when she comes, not like at home when she has to keep quiet so the kids\u2014hopefully asleep in their beds\u2014won\u2019t hear which would make them all embarrassed, because who wants to think about their parents having sex.  And the dogs won\u2019t hear her and come barking and running, thinking someone\u2019s broken into the house or who knows what dogs think.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But what Gina does instead is tell Tracy, \u201cCome on, I\u2019ll walk out with you.  I\u2019ll tell my friend we can do this some other day.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019re not going to stay?\u201d Tracy asks.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Gina shakes her head and begins to slide out of the booth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo, no, Gina, don\u2019t do that.  Stay.  Have a good time.\u201d  Tracy reaches across the table and touches Gina\u2019s hand and very fondly adds, \u201cKeith will be so disappointed if you leave.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/div>\n\n\n\n

A Note from Ema:<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

The full version of Don’t Tell<\/em> is included in my anthology, First Blush, which is available at Amazon<\/a>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/a><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Follow Ema Stonig and Avenue Oh on Facebook<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Links on this page may allow the publisher to receive commissions which will not increase any purchase price you pay.<\/strong><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

There are dozens of reasons Gina shouldn’t be in this hotel bar … one of them just walked in the door. Gina shouldn\u2019t be here.  And yet here she is.  The internal debate has been turning around in her mind for two weeks now\u2014longer really when she thinks about the start of all this: an […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"_uag_custom_page_level_css":"","site-sidebar-layout":"no-sidebar","site-content-layout":"plain-container","ast-site-content-layout":"narrow-width-container","site-content-style":"boxed","site-sidebar-style":"unboxed","ast-global-header-display":"","ast-banner-title-visibility":"","ast-main-header-display":"","ast-hfb-above-header-display":"","ast-hfb-below-header-display":"","ast-hfb-mobile-header-display":"","site-post-title":"disabled","ast-breadcrumbs-content":"","ast-featured-img":"disabled","footer-sml-layout":"","theme-transparent-header-meta":"disabled","adv-header-id-meta":"","stick-header-meta":"","header-above-stick-meta":"","header-main-stick-meta":"","header-below-stick-meta":"","astra-migrate-meta-layouts":"set","ast-page-background-enabled":"default","ast-page-background-meta":{"desktop":{"background-color":"","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"tablet":{"background-color":"","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"mobile":{"background-color":"","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""}},"ast-content-background-meta":{"desktop":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-5)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"tablet":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-5)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"mobile":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-5)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""}},"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-1386","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"yoast_head":"\nDon't Tell - emastonig.com<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"A steamy short story by Ema Stonig. 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