I plan a sequel to this one. As it will be a romance I've put this one in the same category. This one isn't a love story per se. It's certainly about two people coming together then those two people coming apart.
* * * * *
My maid woke me promptly at eight and opened the drapes allowing the morning light into the room. I lolled in bed for a few minutes then got up, did my bathroom thing and selected my workout gear for the morning. My husband, Jason, had left for work an hour ago after awakening in his bedroom and dressing in his dressing room. One of the joys I had was not having to sleep with him and listen to him snore. Pierre, my trainer, would be here promptly at nine and put me through a hour and a half of exercise, stretching and yoga. I followed that with a half hour of swimming then I showered, dressed and carefully applied my makeup and styled my hair until I was perfect. Lunch was served at noon and Jason expected me to present myself as his trophy wife, smiling and greeting him. The afternoon was mine and I met with friends, shopped, or just wandered from store to store looking. I would change for dinner and greet Jason when he arrived home at six, then dinner would be served at seven. There, we would talk about our day and look forward to the weekend when we would entertain friends and family in our palatial home.
I was literally the girl in the gilded cage, the perfect trophy wife.
It hadn't always been like this. I came from a middle class upbringing but strived for more. At an early age I knew I could have the looks just by gazing at my mother but I needed a push to achieve the next level of living. I had carefully chosen my college, picking one known for grooming young women for upper class marriage. I pledged the top sorority and began a life of learning, though primarily I was learning the manners and mannerisms I would need to move into the upper realm. Young men would flock to our parties and I danced and talked with them. I learned the proper progression of male sexual satisfaction I was to achieve when out with one of them. I was popular but frustrated more than one young man after I wouldn't fuck him.
Jason Clay III was in my sights. I met him at a frat party and he asked for my number. When he called I casually turned down his request for a date saying maybe another time. I became a legend at the sorority for turning him down. No one had ever done that. His invitation was more of a summons, not a request. The hook was baited and the catch was circling it. We danced the dance for a year until we graduated after many professions of love. Afterward I moved to his hometown and met his parents on more than one occasion. Having been presented to and approved of by his parents, Jason finally proposed and the hook was set. Now to reel him in. A year later I walked down the aisle a married woman. A lavish honeymoon followed then we moved into our palatial new home on the grounds of the family estate. I had reached the upper class. Then I learned I was a captive of the upper class.
I could look into the distance and see his parents home. Given how he looked at me when we were together his father probably had a telescope to spy on me hoping for a flash of flesh. My exercise routine was five days a week. I was expected to keep my perfect figure. My breasts were 'enhanced' at Jason's direction, my stomach was flat, I had a slim figure and an ass to die for followed by long shapely legs. The four inch heels I wore twice a day brought me almost eye to eye with Jason, something that amused him for whatever reason. Saturday was for friends and Sunday was for family. We entertained or visited friends every weekend. Family lunch was promptly at two every Sunday afternoon after which the women gathered in the family room as Jason, his father and his two brothers gathered in the living room.
I had everything I had aspired to and I had loved it but over the years I found myself coming to hate it. It was so carefully structured. In entertaining friends I could relax to some extent. Entertaining others was an exercise in degree with regard to my skirt length: from long to long with a slit, to knee height and finally four inches above the knee. When instructed, I performed the sequence Sharon Stone made famous in the movie Body Heat years ago. The short skirt was slightly bunched up and I would begin to cross my legs in the opposite way. When my two feet were on the ground two seconds would pass where someone sitting opposite me would have a perfect view of my naked pussy, then the legs would cross and the show was over. Jason had instructed me a year after our marriage and I had performed it several times for various men we were entertaining for business purposes.
"Hey girlfriend, how's my favorite sister?"
"I'm your only sister."
Lorene, my dear sister, called every week, keeping me current with family news and gossip. When she came to visit she was always in awe of our home and surroundings. More than once I had screamed at her in frustration as Lorene dominated the conversation as she went on and on about some aspect of my life.
"Just listen!," I said. "Hear me for once. I got everything I wanted and found it's a leash that gets tugged when I'm to perform. For years now, I've been expected to be perfect for lunch, dinner and when entertaining. Sunday is for family interaction that's carefully staged and choreographed. Some days I just want to scream."
"Robin, I'm sorry. It all seems so perfect to me."
"It is perfect. The facade must be maintained."
"In other news, Dad's dealing with some issue. They're sending him to a specialist for examination and testing."
"Keep me informed. I'll be there the next day after you call and say I need to come. I can use the jet for the trip. I've already cleared it with Jason." The corporate jet primarily flew Jason III and Jason II, his father, to meetings and occasionally vacation travel or trips to see the grandfather in Florida.
"Come and visit anyway. Don't wait for Dad's prognosis. You've not visited in a while. We would love to see you. Don't bring any heels, just flats!"
"I may do that. It would be a break from this. It would be nice to put all of this down. I don't know what he'll do for his weekly fuck, though. Maybe he's got a mistress somewhere."
"Weekly? That's it?"
"He'll indicate he wants sex and I'll be on the bed naked when he enters in his robe, takes it off and mounts me. I use a gel to prepare my pussy because in general I'm not wet from being aroused. He fucks me from behind or while on top of me, comes and lays beside me while I tell him how satisfied I am and how good it felt. Ten minutes tops. He goes to his bathroom to shower as I do the same in mine. I'm reading on my iPad in less than an hour."
"Get on that plane, woman! Tell me what time to meet you at the airport. I will not take no for an answer."
Forty hours later I was at Lorene's home, meeting my family for the first time in a year.
"They've grown so much! All of that in a year!"
"I don't see it, it happens too slow for me to see. I can only tell when they outgrow another set of clothes and shoes. Liam will be eight feet tall if shoe size is any indicator of height. Lucas seems to take after me, much to his dismay. He wants to be as tall as his brother. Also, there's no energy, they just wear me out. I get them to bed and I brush my teeth then it's lights out."
"How's Greg?"
"You mean the man I'm married to who I occasionally see? He's an absent father. Raising these two has become my job alone. He's a paycheck and a little bit more, but not much."
"Any news on Dad?"
