I Broke My Vows in a Target Parking Lot
And I have no regrets
*Updated, now with audio narration at the bottom of this page.
I shivered in my car at the far end of the Target parking lot, watching a young mother dash inside the store as she clutched her toddler, the wet gust making her umbrella blow almost inside out.
Tears streamed down my cheek, competing with the rain that streamed down my windshield.
Josh’s face appeared at my passenger side, momentarily startling me out of my despair. I unlocked the car, and he hauled himself into the seat beside me, shaking the rain off his hair. Then he looked at me quietly.
I immediately lost it and began sobbing.
“Tell me how to keep going,” I wept.
What happened next caught me by surprise. I found myself in a slightly damp but warm and reassuring cocoon. Josh had reached over and pulled me into his arms.
In this unexpected shroud of safety that was familiar and unfamiliar all at once, I surrendered. I nestled gratefully into his chest, closing my eyes, not thinking about anything at all.
Josh was predictable, in the loveliest kind of way. I met him four years before when the company I worked for hired him.
The universe handed me a gift that day in the form of a kindred spirit. A kindred spirit with a rather nice ass, that is.
While I knew I would never do anything more than enjoy the view, I had to admit in the privacy of my thoughts that the man was sexy as fuck in an understated, unaware kind of way.
Josh had wavy brown hair, honest eyes, and an unassuming smile. He was slim and I could tell he was discreetly muscular under his suit and tie, with a runner’s physique. I don’t know if I would exactly call him handsome, yet there was a boyishly adorable quality about his face that made women take a second glance.
But what drew me to him was the effortless sweetness in his soul.
At our company, ugly politics reigned supreme. If you wanted to get ahead, you had to be ruthless and manipulative. Josh refused to play ball — instead, I watched as he helped and encouraged peers and subordinates alike to be their best selves. It was a level of self-awareness mixed with humility I’d never seen in a man before.
Josh was shockingly single; I was not.
My marriage had been complicated for many years, but I stubbornly hung on because I was terrified for my world to fall apart. My children deserve a two-parent household — so I kept telling myself as I endured yet another night of my husband giving in to his demons and raging at me. At least it rarely happened in front of the kids.
At first, Josh and I were simply co-workers with the same quirky humor, laughing at memes and cracking jokes to make the work hours go by a little quicker. We just clicked.
On a Friday evening three months after we met, we found ourselves working late together to complete a project deadline.
Alone in the building, as we ordered in pizza and giggled over company jokes that were funny only at that time of night, we discovered that we had some obscure, ridiculous things in common.
Like an obsession with supernatural documentaries, a passion for complicated origami, and, I kid you not — we both have gay grandmothers who came out of the closet after they raised their families.
I hoped we’d be friends for life.
Josh was respectful and overly proper about the fact that I was married, which I appreciated. It meant I felt safe around him.
I learned that he is the kind of person who contemplates ways to leave the world a better place than he found it, the kind who would never intentionally harm a cockroach, let alone another human being.
He became a playground for me to explore and learn that decent men still exist in this world. Before Josh, I was starting to believe that it is impossible to disagree with a man and not be punished for simply daring to do so.
We were great friends for three years before I explained my marriage and husband to him over another late-night work session. He didn’t say anything for a while, but I saw his jaw clench and his eyes harden almost imperceptibly.
He listened intently, then thoughtfully said that he’d be there if I needed him in any way.
But I did not want him to turn into my therapist or my bad-relationship confidante, so I rarely brought it up after that day. But I noticed he watched me a little more cautiously.
A few hours before I ended up in the Target parking lot, my husband had crossed a line at home while the kids were blessedly at school.
An innocuous argument over how to load the dishwasher had one-sidedly blown up into a mountain of fury, catching me off-guard when he lost his shit, picked up a mug, and flung it in my general direction. I dodged as the mug shattered in pieces on the floor behind me.
As I stood in shock, my husband stomped into the garage, slammed the door, and screamed, “FUUUUCCKKKKKKKKkkkk!” over and over again as he punched the walls.
After a stunned minute, I ran to my car outside and started driving in the thunderstorm, not knowing or caring where I was headed.
I began having visions of running my car into oncoming traffic. Surely that would be less painful than living out the rest of my life like this.
But the thought of my kids anchored me, and I safely made it to Target of all places.
At the end of my rope of inner strength, I gave in and called Josh. He answered on the first ring, and after just twenty seconds of listening to my incoherent babbling about thrown objects and punched walls, he told me to stay right there and wait for him.
In Josh’s arms, I was shy yet deeply comfortable all at once. Though we talked and texted almost every day, he always had cautiously kept physical distance from me.
That day, he held me tight and did not let go.
After a long minute, our breathing slowed, then merged into one rhythm. It was the most peaceful I had felt in years.
Unaware of what they were doing, my legs suddenly found themselves scrambling into the passenger seat, my upper body still enveloped in Josh’s arms, my head still against his chest. Now I was on his lap, straddling him.
I didn’t care. It felt like the most natural position in the world, and I wanted to be encapsulated in this safe and happy bubble forever.
Josh didn’t seem to care either.
After a while, I pulled away and looked up at his face, and that’s when I realized that he had tears streaming down his cheeks too.
It hit me then: this man loved me.
He remained silent and still, offering me the pure shelter of his embrace.
As the rain streamed torrents of privacy around us, I was politely awoken from my daze, suddenly aware of his growing bulge pressing up against my crotch as I sat in his lap.
Before my brain even understood it was Josh’s arousal, my pussy had already responded to his unintended swelling with a rapid flood of wetness accompanied by a surge of pleasure on my lips.
I couldn’t help myself anymore; marriage be damned.
Burying my nose into his neck, I breathed his scent in deeply, then lifted my face and gave him a tentative, probing kiss in the spot where his jawline met his earlobe. He groaned softly and raggedly whispered, “Oh, Hana...”
I thought he might let me go then, but instead, he held me tighter.
I was surprised but not disappointed. Something deep inside my soul began to burn. My confidence soared as I sensed his longing, and I again put my lips lightly on him — first on his neck, then behind his ear, then his cheek, and finally, his mouth.
His lips tasted every bit as good as they looked all these years.
Josh closed his eyes and didn’t move a muscle. He let me kiss him, but he held back. I felt inner conflict and guilt seizing him.
Breaking away from his lips for a moment, I took his face in my hands, and when he opened his eyes, I wordlessly begged him to fuck me.
He shuddered inaudibly, then gave in, and with all his soul returned my kiss fiercely.
Together, we let go of the real world as we desperately explored each other with our hands and lips, with a raw hunger grown from years of secretly wanting each other.
His fingers brushed against my nipples through my thin shirt, and they immediately hardened. Lifting my shirt, he swiftly undid my bra as I raised myself onto my knees and arched my back, offering my breast to his mouth.
He accepted my gift eagerly, grazing his tongue over my buds, then hungrily sucking on each one.
I shivered with fiery desire. In a trance, I began rubbing my aching pussy back and forth against his throbbing bulge, now barely restrained by his pants.
At this, Josh began to moan helplessly, at first softly, then louder. I’d never seen him be that uninhibited before and the guttural sounds coming out of him made me gush a river between my thighs.
Reaching urgency now, I moved my pussy off of his bulge and slipped my hand inside his pants. He tilted his head back and gave a long groan as I grasped his cock with one hand and somehow finished undoing his pants with the other.
Then my skirt lifted and the crotch of my panties magically moved aside, which is when I realized his hands had been busy too. I gasped and lurched with pleasure as his finger found my wetness, then slid inside me.
But I couldn’t wait another second. I took his hand, impatiently pulled his finger out, and positioned myself over his cock. Holding my panties back, I gratefully lowered myself onto his manhood.
I rode him like a bull, clinging on to him for dear life.
We thrashed, half-human, half-animal, finally ascending to our private heaven in synchrony as we convulsed helplessly against each other, melting into an exhausted pool of bliss.
Some days, I feel guilty for corrupting Josh. He was one of the good guys; it was never in his plan to sleep with a married woman.
Thankfully, he still chooses to sleep with a married woman — having married me after my divorce from my abusive ex five years ago.
And once in a while, when we can get away, we return to that Target parking lot and recreate our first time together, each time better than the last.
If you enjoyed that and would like to listen to the audio version narrated by the amazing Jupiter Grant, please click here:
And then there was that time I had an unexpected sexy sleepover with a mommy friend:
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I’d be grateful for a coffee :)
Many thanks to Teresa J Conway for the coaching and editing help.
