When Saturday arrives, Carter updates me via text throughout the day, going silent during the ride over because he’s driving Owen’s car. I receive a quick update that they’ve arrived, and then…
The wait begins. I know not to text Carter while he’s there, unless I literally have an emergency I need to call 911 for, because he wants his entire focus on Owen tonight.
I consider it personal growth on my part that I’m glad he wants to focus on Owen, and I don’t take it personally.
I take it as further proof Carter is a man of his word, a man I can trust.
A couple of hours later, I receive a quick update.
Leaving. Will text when home. Rough time, Owen will be okay. PHT
The last is shorthand code he’s set up with me—Please Hold Texts.
It means wait until he contacts me, don’t even text a response that I received that text.
So I do what I can to make Carter’s life easier—I sit and wait, glancing at the clock to calculate a rough time of arrival for them at the dorm.
It’s over three hours later when he texts me.
Home. Awake?
I reply immediately.
Yes, Sir.
My phone buzzes with another text a moment later.
She’s a cunt, worse than I thought, but I know what we need to do now. I’ll give you details tmrw night. You still going to Tllhsee on Owen’s bd wknd?
That’s an odd segue, but whatever. Carter knows about my trip. I haven’t told Owen yet, because Carter told me to hold on to that info, for now.
Yes, Sir. Why?
He responds shortly after.
I want the house for the wknd. I have a plan, but need privacy and 2 nights w/him.
I think about this long and hard. I’ve already given the men keys and alarm codes.
Then you can use the house.
:) Good girl. Tnk you. Sleep tight. See you tmrw.
Carter doesn’t use emojis very often. As in rarely.
It’s the texting equivalent of him stroking my hair when I’m on my knees for him.
Especially when his cock is down my throat.
The next evening, Carter motions me to follow him outside to the lanai shortly after Owen falls asleep on the couch. Between a heavy dinner, and the stress of yesterday catching up with him, our poor boy is wiped out. Owen acted subdued today, but I sensed I shouldn’t mention yesterday to him unless he brings it up first.
Carter now confirms that.
“It was bad last night,” he starts, speaking low and quickly, knowing as well as I do that Owen could awaken at any time. “Reallybad.”
He recounts the evening for me. To someone else, it might sound like an exaggeration.
Except I know our Owen—and yes, I already think of him asours.
