Frustration

As Daphne remembered how Theresa had acted the first time she met her, five years ago, and her change in attitude after seven months, she figured that was when it all started.

'I want a divorce. Father has his heir. I have no need for money from either him or Ezra. I should free myself before I waste more of my youth. Even if Ezra is cheating on me, I can't bring myself to do that, but at the same time, I miss sex.'

Daphne winced for a split second. Her mind flashing with different memories and her emotions at the time.

In the past two years, it was like she had gotten desperate. She had been drooling at men's bodies at an unprecedented rate.

'Thank God for the internet…'

Daphne felt a bit pathetic at her behavior that was not unlike that of a hormonal teenage boy, behind closed doors. She would look at male models and celebrities and envision touching them and being touched by them many times as of late.

She simply could not help it.

While she could clearly envision their bodies, she could never nail the faces, so to speak. The males that touched her in her fantasies always lost the distinctiveness of their face when she would try to imagine it.

This one time; while half awake, she tried to stimulate herself and the situation turned into more of a nightmare as, as she kept trying to make her imagined man have a face, eventually it ended up with it being a clown mask. That really had put a damp on things.

'Definitely sexually frustrated. It's been nine years since the last time after all…'

Lost in her thoughts, Daphne did not hear the knock on her door. The butler was forced to ask for a maid to check on Daphne as it would not be appropriate for him to check on her, even if he wanted to inform her that dinner would be served in half an hour.

The house staff would start preparations for dinner as soon as Daphne got home in the evening, as such, the hour for when dinner was served could differ.

The poor maid did not want to intrude on Daphne immediately, as such she chose to softly knock at her door intermittently, three times once every thirty to forty seconds. At the fifteen minute mark, she would pop her head in to check on her mistress, she reasoned to herself.

After the maid had been knocking for about eight minutes, Daphne finally heard the knocking. She sat up, walked to the vanity, where there was a mirror and checked to see if it was obvious she had cried.

She wiped her tears and dabbed a bit of concealer around her eyes, and after another minute, she finally answered the maid.

The maid walked in, bowed her whole body and calmly informed Daphne that dinner would be ready in twenty minutes along with the menu for the night.

When the maid was done speaking, she heard Daphne say,

"I understand. You may go."