Guilty as Charged

and then I can jump my husband when we get home.”  She claps her hands wildly at the idea.
“Is married sex really that boring?”  I ponder out loud, ruminating on her comment from earlier while also wondering if what I’ve experienced so far is as good as it gets, which isn’t saying much.  It’s not that I haven’t had the opportunities, but I guess I never allowed myself to give in to the temptation of sleeping with any guy I found attractive.  It was part of that ‘good girl’ persona I tried to live up to weaving its way into my sex life as well.
“Well, yes, and no. It’s like …” She looks up to the sky in contemplation.  “It’s not as new and exciting as it was when we first got together and would jump each other every second we could. Now there are kids cockblocking us and exhaustion to battle. But when we do connect, it’s a comfort that I can’t explain. He knows what I like and vice versa. I’m not worried about my stretch marks or my stomach being flat because I know he loves me for me. And when I feel him hover over me, I feel safe and loved unconditionally, which is a level of intimacy I don’t think you can get anywhere else.”
“Sounds amazing …”
She sighs.  “It is. But sometimes I miss the wild—the carefree, scream your lungs out, being fucked within an inch of your life sex.”
An older woman walks by us and shoots Ally a nasty glare.
“Apparently you’re too bold for her,” I acknowledge.
“She’s just jealous because she’s not getting any.”
“I’ve never been fucked like that, Ally,” I whisper as we come up to some empty fields with foundations poured for new houses being built.
“Never? Not even by Michael?”  she asks, referencing the boyfriend I had a few years ago.  We were serious and I thought he was the one, but he got a job offer in New York that he didn’t want to pass up, and I had no desire to leave Texas.
“Nope. He wouldn’t even fuck me on the kitchen counter.”
“Well, did you ask him?”
“What do you mean?”
She stops me cold and faces me head on.  “Sydney, men can’t read minds. You literally have to tell them what you want most of the time.”
“Do you do that with Collin?”
She nods.  “Yeah, I do. Sometimes I want it rougher, sometimes slow, and smooth. But he won’t know that unless I tell him.”
“But it’s so awkward,” I say with a crinkle of my nose, even though this conversation is making me think of all the things I’d want a man to do to me at this very moment.  I’ve just never been bold enough to ask.
“Okay, that’s it. We’re going out next weekend, and your goal is to have a one-night stand with a guy and tell him everything you want him to do to you.”
I stand there motionless, my heart beating wildly in my chest.  For a woman who generally considers herself confident, this task seems insurmountable right now.  I’m starting to sweat just thinking about putting myself out there like that.  “You can’t be serious?”
“Yes, I am. You’re going to find some man that doesn’t know who you are and bang him. Be filthy, dirty. Live in the moment. You’ll never see him again, and then you’ll have an amazing story to tell your grandkids one day.”
I laugh.  “I am not telling my grandkids stories about my sex life.”
“I am. I’m gonna be that old woman sitting in the room full of her family that chuckles at the fact that they all exist because I got laid.”
My shoulders bounce from my laughter as we stop in front of a house that is being built, the wooden beams framing the walls the only things standing on the foundation.
“Looks like you’re gonna have new neighbors soon,” I say as a crew of guys comes around the back of the house, arms full of tools as they move to load them into the work trucks.  A Gibson Construction logo is plastered on the doors, a booming construction company that’s grown in the area in recent years.
The eye candy in front of me is definitely a step up from the man-child I was salivating over earlier.  Tan skin on bared chests, tattoos weaving over bulging biceps, narrow hips that frame deep Vs leading into worn jeans strut across the yard as the three men prepare to leave for the day, their hard hats resting solidly on their heads.
“Damn,” I mutter out loud as Ally turns to me and grins.
“See something you like?”
I nod.  Yeah. That’s what I need. A man. Not a boy like Jared. A man with muscles and brawn. Someone who can lift me up and fuck me against the wall. I want some meat to hold on to, someone to make me forget and feel bold, yet protected as well…
“That a girl. Talk dirty like that next weekend!”
“What?”  I turn to her as she starts to chuckle.
“Did you not realize you were just talking aloud right now?”
“Oh, God. No!” I bury my head in my hands as Ally grabs me and we start to walk away.
“Don’t be embarrassed. I think you’re just horny. Go home and use your vibrator, get off, and then get ready to let loose next Saturday. That’s what you need to do. I’m sure of it.”
“Dear lord, Ally. This has disaster written all over it. We have to make sure nothing bad happens that night, alright? Or I’ll never hear the end of it.”
“Even if something does happen, you can tell daddy-dearest to fuck off. You’re a grown woman, Syd. And I’ll be damned if my best friend dies with a shriveled up, dry vagina. You need to live a little and let go. Get out your Daisy Dukes, girlfriend. We’re going dancing!”

Chapter 2
Javier
“So you’re just going to walk around with the floors like this? You know you could step on a nail …”
I