Charmaines Meaningful Affair

CHAPTER 1

Sitting on a stool at the bar in a rowdy group who'd been to dinner at the Comedy House restaurant-theatre, Charmaine Ross noticed the curly-haired guy about her age studying her, thankfully appearing very casual about it.

The heart of the bored woman fluttered. She hadn't committed adultery for a couple of years. Unless she did it soon she'd forget how good it was. Douglas was losing fitness and these days puffed and even dribbled over her and he performed his beloved bang.

Like most women, she didn't mind being banged provided her hair wasn't messed and she didn't suffer a broken nail or ended up with bite marks marring her beautifully shaped breasts or on, sadly, thickening thighs. Good sex always made her feel alive.

The naughty streak in her was screaming, 'Do it!' Charmaine slowly parted her knees a little. The guy's eyes changed from casually roaming to become transfixed. Or was that just her imagination? The beautifully made-up brunette opened her knees even wider, now feeling a bit of cool air flow.

Wow. The guy's eyes were now riveted.

Charmaine kept her eyes on him. Slowly he looked up and their eyes locked. She steeled herself to keep staring and he didn't look away either. The feeling of a furnace firing between her legs made her swallow but she refused to look away. He was invading her space and she had rights.

Damn. A scrawny female glided up to him, picked up her handbag off the bar and pulled him off towards the door. At the door the guy turned and Charmaine completely lost it and waved. The guy jerked his head in surprise and then turned and the couple disappeared.

"Who were you waving to?" Douglas asked casually.

"An assistant at a dress store I favor, Sara Potts," Charmaine lied with ease. She'd always been a creative thinker. "She just went out with a guy that I doubt is her husband."

"Perhaps you ought to frequent dress stores with more reputable assistants?"

"Moral reputation has no relationship with being remembered, what your dress size is and what new lines are in since the last time you visited."

"God I didn't realize choosing a dress was a process involving a sophisticated relationship."

"You're learning darling," Charmaine said, handing Douglas her empty glass and wondering why the most interesting conversations she seemed to have with him these days involved her lies. She had absolutely no idea who Miss Scrawny aka Sara Potts was and admired her invention of name.

Douglas had ordered the drinks and was talking to the McKenzie's when the barman from the other end came up and asked was she waiting for another drink.

"It's been ordered thank you."

As he was retreating Charmaine called him to wait. He returned.

"That guy with a suit and a black shirt, no tie you were serving, do you happen to know his name."

The barman looked at the beautiful wide-faced woman in green with dark red lips that looked almost like velvet. "Yes, Earl Wright."

"Look he could return sometime and ask do you know who the brunette in green was. Could you please give him this card?"

"Earl is married."

"So? If he does ask could you please give him my card?"

"Sure," he smiled, taking the card and saying, "Charmaine Ross, the author! Wow."

"Do you read me?"

"No but my wife does. She gets the hots reading you and I benefit."

"Naughty boy," Charmaine giggled and the barman looked pleased.

Douglas handed Charmaine her drink and asked, "What were you talking to that barman about?"

Charmaine sighed thinking Christ, weren't men a bore.

She said stupidly, "He asked me who you were and were you gay."

"What!" Douglas roared.

"Shhhhh. Douglas, for god sake. I was joking. He simply commented he hadn't seen us in the bar before and I answered probably not, well certainly not me."

"Are you sure?" asked the attorney, burning around his collar. Douglas had been a better than average footballer and a rower and prided himself on his masculinity.

"Absolutely. I'm sorry I fed you that stupid joke."

"Well watch your mouth."

"Thank you Douglas."

She turned away to ask, "Chapman, been to any good parties lately?"

"Only the one Charmaine. You and Douglas were invited but had a prior engagement."

"Oh remind me whose party was that?"

"Mine."

"And mine," snorted wife Debra. "It was a great night but guess who put in all the hard work?"

"Chappie?"

"I ought to land my shoe forcibly against your balls Douglas," Debra said, and that started a great discussion between the six of them in the group whether society had progress enough today to allow a woman to make that comment to a man in a public place and within hearing of assorted people. Showing his cleverness Douglas immediately asked for a definition of assorted people.

Either eight or nine days later Charmaine was sipping coffee on the deck, taking a break after a heavy two-hour writing session after clearing away after breakfast when the phone went.

"This is Charmaine."

"What a beautiful name. Would you come away with me this weekend?"

"That is highly unlikely. What are you selling -- dream holidays?"

"I'm Earl Wright."

"Well Mr Wright I'm afraid I must cut... Um Earl Wright from The Holy Grail bar two Saturdays ago?"

"That is accurate recall."

"And that's not a proper answer. What color of dress was I wearing?"

"Green and it appeared a little too wide at the knees."

Charmaine colored. "That tells me you are who you say you are. I just happened to be in a playful mood."

"And playful enough to give Rex the barman your card in case I returned asking who you were."

"Yes," she said in her best voice. "Can we meet?"

"Why?"

"I'm a romance writer. It's time I embarked on another hot time with a guy to jazz up my thinking."

"But without divulging personal detail?"

"Do you think I'm stupid or dangerous?"

He laughed and said she may have a little bit of both in her because she was only human."

She didn't answer.

"Apologies, my humor ran away on me. Good breeding required me not to answer your comment about being stupid in case I fluffed the reply.

Charmaine didn't reply.

"Would lunch Friday suit you, say 2:00 at South Corner Bar and Grill?"

"I'm married and my understanding is so are you."

"Correct but the possibility of joint wickedness is involved here."

She sighed. "I couldn't have put that better myself. This is confidential but my husband has a mistress."

"You have my sympathy if that's required. This is confidential but my wife sleeps with my brother."

"Ohmigod that could be devastating for you?"

"Well I was upset to find out about them but I don't believe they know I know. I'm now at the stage of admiring Joe for his good taste."

"Well, you are sounding like an interesting person. I only associate with persons I find interesting. I'll be at the bar and grill. Goodbye.

Charmaine cut the call before she heard a response.

She called her publisher's commissioning editor.

"Oh hi Charmaine," said Mary-Anne (M-A), sounding if she welcomed a breather from deskwork. "We were only talking about you at our Monday review and production meeting wondering if you needed a push to keep communicating."

"Well M-A, I was disappointed with the sales feedback on my current paperback. It's the first time in three years I've failed to register sales exceeding 40,000 in the first six months of publication."

"Well we are worried too. It's a long time since you topped 300,000 in sales with 'Bitch in Tights'."

"Yeah, at least I show consistency. All sales have reduced for each work since then."

Charmaine heard the hollow laugh and flinched. She sighed. "Are you guys losing interest in me?"

"Well I'm not. No way do I think you've hit your potential."

"But the others?"

There was a pause.

"Come on M-A. Be a bitch and cough it out."

"Um, it has been suggested we drop you because your spiral is downward. Are you okay hearing that?"

"Yes. I'm not brainless. I only heard what I expected to hear but thought I'd have to go to Mrs White to hear it."

"Charmaine let me get through to you. I believe in you."

"For a hardnosed bitch you have a sweetness about you M-A. Can you do lunch tomorrow?"

"Sorry, I have...

"Thursday?"

"That's the day of our new author's lunch."

Charmaine sniffed and brushed aside her fringe to hear Mary-Anne say, "I can do lunch today at 1:00."

"Fine, usual place that is cheap but clean."

"Yes. Get your sales back to 100,000-plus and I'll take you somewhere swanky, treating you as my protégé."

"That's a deal."

Charmaine in gray watched the fifty-one-year old wave in answer to her wave and head for the table. Thrice-divorced Mary-Anne now lived with two cats, worked huge hours in publishing and worked writing at nights. She was a top-seller of spy-romance-murder novels. Tragic endings to novels weren't supposed to work but apparently Mary-Anne's loyal following hadn't heard about that.

"You look dowdy," Charmaine said, kissing the older woman affectionately and Mary-Anne who claimed she dressed that way to keep men at bay smiled appreciatively.

They lunched lightly and over coffee Charmaine said, "I'm stopping work on my current romance with the feeling I've written it before."

"If you don't get out and about taking in new experiences it's possible your writing will take you on a circuitous route -- I've spoken to you about that previously."

"Actually I imagined it and used it as an excuse to stop work."

"Oh?"

"Yes I have a new project in mind and want you guys to publish it, although it will be nonfiction."

"You know we publish only fiction and then only romance."

"So?"

"I won't be able to move Marion White on this Charmaine, be reasonable."

"You can just say first present me the manuscript."

"Very well, first present me the manuscript. It that sways me I'll really push for you. Have you a working title?"

"Yes, 'How To Manage Adultery."

"Jesus," Mary-Anne said, green eyes widening and fixing on her never boring fellow author.

"I don't wish to say any more."

"That's fine by me. My mind is reeling. I'm not aware if you're had affairs but even so I believe if there ever was an author to present such a textbook it's you Charlie." (Very few people were permitted to call Charmaine that name; her father was one but Douglas was not).

"Textbook? I was thinking fact-fiction."

"Ohmigod, we might just get away pushing that category. Keep that in mind when you begin writing."

Charmaine flushed in pleasure. "I won't require an advance."

"Good, because I couldn't give you one without Mrs White's authority since it's outside our publishing specifications. Just hit me with the finished ms."

That evening in the restaurant Charmaine said to husband Douglas, "Oh darling I'm intending to have an affair."

Douglas' reactions were interesting, providing useful pre-writing research. At first he looked as if he hadn't heard her properly and then guilt flashed across his face. Then his eyes narrowed and he snapped, "What's this I'm hearing?"

Charmaine thought that was awfully imprecise language for an attorney to use in such a serious discussion. He listened quietly as she explained her project and he made the perfectly reasonable suggestion, "Couldn't you write about it without actually having to commit adultery?"

She said no and he shrugged.

So she turned the screw. "Does this mean we divorce?"

Douglas looked astonished. "Whatever for?"

"Er following on from what I've just told you it would mean me being unfaithful to you."

"Charmaine, for heaven's sake. This is the 21st Century."

She went to the restroom to note the main points of that conversation in her writer's log.

In bed that night Douglas proved very robust and Charmaine had to think way back to recall his penis being so thick and strong.

"I find you exciting, very attractive and exceedingly sexy," Douglas crooned, as he shoved it in and really banged her methodically, strumming almost all of her sexual sensors. He finally had Charmaine scream into a huge climax that left her lying back, sweating and shocked. Was that really Douglas?

* * *

On Friday morning Charmaine went for a brisk walk because her nerves were on edge and then went to her hour-long Pilates class. As she walked the short distance home to her apartment she felt the excitement that had calmed due to exercising begin to build again.

She had to tell someone so called her most trusted person, daughter Grace and left a message.

The seventeen-year-old senior at a private boarding school answered the message between classes.

"Would you like your mother to be a famous author?"

"Famous? You are securing more sales that many published authors but you told me yourself you have peaked and now appear to be fading fast."

"Answer the question."

"Yes of course mom. It would make you happy, a big mission in life fulfilled and I for one would be very proud of you but so would dad and Stephen."

"Oh darling."

"What's happened to force this issue?"

"I've decided to reposition and know this next book will sell by the tens of thousands, actually tens of hundreds of thousands."

"What a cook book?"

"No."

"Oh god you are going to shame the family and write porn."

"Grace, you know your mother better than that. Sex figures but it's not porn, if I'm any judge of that."

"Porn is like that ass-fucking DVD you and I watched last summer."

"God no, that was sheer porn, guys lining up. I can't believe I watched that and am ashamed I allowed you to watch it."

"I regarded it as easing me towards adulthood mother. I was too nervous to look at it by myself. I returned it to Helen and she got it back into her mom's library before it was discovered missing. Oh mom, must dash. I love you mom and would be out of me tree if you produce a best-seller. You keep confident, do you hear?"

"Yes dear. You are coming home the long weekend coming up?"

"Yes of course. Stephen will be catching the same train so I'll look out for him but knowing him he'd be in a gang and the little shits will want to feel me up if I go in and talk to him."

"Grace!"

"Bye mom."

Charmaine looked at the phone in despair. How could little Stephen be in such company with boys who thought like that? He was only fourteen.

Soaping herself in the shower with soft-wash Charmaine ran her hands over her trimmed bush and wondered if she should shave it for Earl before they did it. But what would Douglas think about that? God, this affair was becoming complicated before it had commenced.

Walking to the restaurant -- their apartment was so central to almost everything decent in the city -- Charmaine sighed thinking it was likely this um field research for her new book would land her with no end of complications. Well at least that ought to fire up content... and her as a lover and writer. Er hopefully.

Earl Wright moved off his bar stool to greet her. Charmaine hadn't realized he was so tall or that his hair was very light brown, approaching blond. His eyes went from her face, dipped quickly to just below her neck and flicked back up. She supposed he thought that was rapidly enough for her not to notice. Well she was wearing a cream textured dress that was a little too tight because she'd planned to be closely inspected. Romeo here wouldn't want to launch into an affair with a woman with a body like a hen.

She was rather tense so was relieved when instead of moving into kiss her and feel a breast, Earl held out a hand. She went to shake it but he pulled it up and kissed it, almost prompting her to wet herself in surprise. She would have don't that of course, no matter how big the surprise but one can never be sure about such things.

"How lovely to see you again."

"Ohmigod that was supposed to be her line. Well she could shock him by saying when would he like to have sex with her. Performing that on the bar was quite okay with her. But then she told herself, listen Charmaine, you are an author and this is background preparation. Stand up to him and get to work!

"I won't apologize for my part in making this happen."

"Nothing's happened... yet."

She liked the way he paused and then threw in the word yet pregnant with possibilities. Charmaine almost panicked when the word 'pregnant' dropped into her mind. She knew she was still on the pill. Not a worry.

"Well nothing might happen," she sighed and signaled a waitress. "Let's go to our table and I'll tell all."

"This sounds fascinating," he laughed, a little thinly. Charmaine followed the waitress, rolling a little on her high heels to induce a little more hip sway to perhaps increase her attractiveness to him. Although she was forty-two she still possessed a great figure and spent money to keep it looking great and had had work done on her face and thighs.

"I mentioned to you I'm a novelist," she said, after the wine had been poured.

"Yes and I said my wife reads you."

"And I said an affair could jazz up the way I think in plotting a story."

"Yes you said something like that."

"Well being a creative person my thinking has advanced creatively. I now wish to have a really robust affair with you, perhaps leading up to that slowly, and documenting our times together and incorporating that into a work of non fiction."

"What!"

"Steady. You ought to hear me out."

"Go on," he said, nostrils flaring a little.

She thought he really was quite handsome.

"I would not write anything that identifies you in any way. I would talk to you about your sexual experiences, excluding those with your wife in case they could be tell-tale. Your thoughts would be important to me as a writer and things you could remember women saying to you. They don't have to be direct quotes."

"I see."

"You are nervous about this I assume?"

"Damn right. What do I get out of this?"

"My body."

"What?" he asked like she'd stolen something from him.

Charmaine lost her patience. "All right, either my approach about this is faulty or you are not of generous spirit. Let's have a lovely lunch together, we split the bill and then split never to talk to one another again."

"No."

"And why not?" she said a little coldly.

"Because your original offer was more appealing. Perhaps this hiccup is due to my approach being faulty and unintentionally I sounded mercenary."

Charmaine allowed her astonishment to show.

"There is no need to be surprised. I take it these are exploratory talks?"

She breathed, "Yes indeed."

"Well it did seem my body was being regarded as a commodity."

She ran her tongue over her top lip. "What to be ravaged for my publishing desires?"

"Something like that," he grinned. "There was no indication what I would receive in return."

"A damn good, time, damn good conversations and damn good fucking I should think."

Earl smiled and reached under the table and patted her knee. "Calm down. We are on the same side aren't we?"

Charmaine forced a smile. "Well said."

"I'm in advertising and most early conversations I have with clients or client's agents are almost exactly what we have here... trading negotiations. I have a specialist talent with support people backing me and the client has needs and accepts they will be expensive to fulfill."

"I see."

"I believe you do. So will you accept I don't want money for fulfilling your client needs. I wish to be fulfilled emotionally and as we build sexual connection your input comes from your heart rather than delivered with your mind closed off and pen and notebook in your hand."

Charmaine said very carefully, "So my understanding is you wish me to love you but to love you not quite enough to want to take you from your wife?"

Earl's hazel eyes widened: "You do think creatively and express yourself clearly although I guess I ought to have known that because you are an author."