New perspective shift... in this chapter, the second person is my wife and the third person is Amanda Adams- my Queen
*****
You look through the window and see a clean red Jeep parked in front of the mailbox. There are two figures inside but the glass is too deeply tinted to make out who they are. You're already very much on edge because I've been missing for hours and my fucking cellphone must be turned off for some goddamn reason.
Then a beautiful woman gets out and the over-head light comes on. You see me. You watch the woman cross in front of her headlights. Is that Amanda? But why? She opens my door, and offers me her hand. A jealous rage detonates inside you as you scramble to tear open the front door. You'd like to rip it off it's hinges and throw it at my neck.
"What's this!?" you shriek at us, "What are you doing here, Amanda?"
You demand. You're hotter than you can ever remember being- you let your inner demon do the thinking.
"Hello, Sandra, long time no see," she says, "I ran into your handsome husband this afternoon and to make a long story short, he was kind enough to invite me over for dinner, what are we having?"
Her coolness sets you back on your heels; she seems almost friendly- non-threatening- beautiful- calm and in control.
Everything is completely up in the air. The night is still and somebody is walking a German Shepherd across the street. You and I are exchanging perplexed looks while she is standing there still and statuesque.
"How rude of me, Amanda, I had no idea that we'd be having a guest tonight, but there's always room for one more at our table," you say with mock sincerity, "We're having ramen noodles with lots of MSG in the flavor packets."
"Sounds wonderful."
You hold open the door and we all move inside. She looks at me and suggests brazenly, "Why don't you give Sandra and I a chance to catch up a bit, and you could really use a shower."
She cutely pantomimes shaving her legs and I infer that she means for me to start shaving my body... She flings her fingertips in a gesture that means for me to get lost and go upstairs... And it's then that you notice her necklace- specifically- her key.
She puts a sisterly arm around you and hugs you and draws you away from my field of vision as I obediently march up the stairs to shower and shave.
Am I relieved to be alone? No. The number of shocks I have just received in the last two minutes is almost too much to bear. So you know each-other?! Is this a good thing or a bad thing? To what extent am I just being used? I feel used, I feel torn- not in half- torn open. This is my thought as I turn on the shower and reach for my Gillete Mach3.
"Sandra, you knew this day would come. You knew I couldn't stay away forever. You must have suspected that you'd be seeing me sooner or later when you found out that I'd moved back to town," her words are condescending but somehow not unpleasant. She's always had such an authority about her- a commanding presence you now realize you've missed.
"What the fuck have you done with my husband...bitch?"
She bolts up and flashes you an angry warning, "Don't you accuse me of anything, whore! He's a good Buttercup - couldn't stop blabbing about you. I'll concede that I might have him slightly under my spell but as you well know, I only use my powers for good."
"You're the devil!" You scream so loud I can hear it in the shower, but I shrug it off and continue shaving. I expected there'd be some heat between you two to sort out. Also the hair on my skinny muscular legs isn't cooperating; and at this rate, I'll be shaving for the next two hours.
"You know me just fine, and you'll see my good intentions in due time. Why don't you try asking me some questions instead of throwing out accusations?"
"What's that creepy key you're wearing, you bitch?"
"This?" She holds it between her thumb and index finger, "This is a key to somebody's whole sexuality. Kind of amazing don't you think? What a perfect accessory!"
"Who's sexuality?"
"You could probably guess, but you're sure to find out anyway... Alright- spoiler alert- it's your husband's. Ah but there's so much more where this came from... such transformation in so little time!"
Your emotions are just very intense. You don't know if you're feeling angry? sad? turned-on? how about: just confused? In stead of crying, something inside you breaks open. You hold your arms out and open inviting your once mistress to cross over and embrace you now as a friend.
You sit down on a stool in your kitchen. The only sound in the house is the whisper of water running through my shower. The hatred that was so palpable seven minutes ago has given way to nostalgia and though it's painful to admit: lust. Memories that had long been buried come flooding back out of order: corsets, candle-lit chains, whips, a strap-on, nipple clamps, strong womanly hands tightly gripping your hair. These images represent emotions you thought you might never feel again. Life as you now know it- the suburban-house-wife life- is crumbling with every minute she stands in your kitchen.
My body hair creates a dam around the grate to the drain. After changing out the razor cartridge twice, I'm cleaning up the last of the chest hair around my nipples. The cock cage and butt plug make it impossible to get at certain hairs but I do the best I can with the access I've been granted. Its a grueling task for me, but a perfect distraction from my worry about what you are presently discovering about me.
