The Other Woman

It was the low drone of the plane engines that woke her from her listless sleep. She had dozed on and off for most of the flight into Charleston. Partly because she was tired and partly because she had no desire to allow herself to ponder what it was she was getting ready to do. Now as the plane hummed beneath her she found herself face to face with the choice she had made.

She watched as the soft evening light reflected off the metal wings of the plane. It was warm and hazy, the type of twilight you can only find in the south. He would be waiting for her at the terminal. Waiting with that damned smile of his that made her loose all reason. Waiting with the voice that made her forget what she ought to have remembered. Yes, he would be waiting, and although she knew better she would go to him. It struck her as the last whisper of sun flickered off the wing how simply truthful that was. She would go to him. Knowing it was wrong. Knowing she would never have him except on clandestine trips and hotel suites. Knowing that when it was over he would go back to the sweet Americana of his suburban life and that she would wait until he called for her again.

It should have bothered her. The dishonesty of it all, the secrecy. It should have prompted her to walk away after that first stolen kiss. It should have, but it didn't, and she hated herself for her own weakness. Hated herself for allowing him to see it and most of all for giving in to it.

As the little plane slowed to a stop she gathered her small bag from above her seat and waited for the crush of passengers to pass before making her way down the isle. She was aware of the glances the weary businessmen cast at her as she walked by and wondered if they could see her for what she was. She heard each whisper of fabric as her stockings brushed together, heard each click of her heels against the floor as she walked to the doors. They seemed to her a countdown. Each swish and click another second ticked away that she could have turned back in. Each step another chance to do the right thing that she walked away from. The rush of air hit her as she passed through the doors into the breezeway and suddenly her skin came alive in anticipation. Yes, he would be at the terminal and he would make the awful nagging go away. He would take her in his arms and make everything else melt away. The thought made her legs move forward and she passed away from the safety of the cabin without looking back.

She felt her heart leap in spite of itself when she saw him leaning against the wall by the newsstand. The tall grace of his tanned frame standing out among the swell people waiting for returning husbands and wives. He smiled at her and let his eyes run over her making her knees buckle in anticipation.

" Is that your only bag?" he asked as he threw the satchel over his shoulder.

She nodded, unsure of what to say. " I didn't think I'd need much." The words brought a quick flush to her cheeks. She wouldn't need much. They weren't sightseeing, or dropping in on old friends. They didn't have appointments to keep. Nobody even knew they were there, let alone together. No, she wouldn't have needed to pack much, she thought as her cheeks burned hotter, not much at all.

He casually slipped on his sunglasses and put an arm around her. " Well then, I think we should get going." She leaned into him and let him steer her down the terminal and out to the car. She was drunk already with the smell of him, the weight of his arm against her. Her skin burning with a heat that she was beginning to realize she could not deny. He made small talk as they drove to the hotel, asking her questions he already knew the answers to. She wondered if he was nervous at all. If he'd been waiting on her arrival in the little efficiency studio and wondering how they could be doing what they were about to do. Had he called his wife since he'd been there? Had he been able to make her believe the lies they had concocted to make the affair possible for both of them? Had he felt guilty or was her own guilt enough for both of them? As if sensing her need he reached a hand across the seat and let it rest at the juncture of her thigh and her hip, and once more she felt that irrational need for him burn into her. She looked up at him and in that instant knew that there was no turning back. She could try and deny wanting him, craving him, but she would fail.

He fumbled momentarily with the lock as they reached the room,the only betrayal of his nerves she had seen. As soon as they were inside his hands were on her and the yearning that had swept away her reason and judgement was suddenly, horribly upon her again. She trembled at every touch of his skin to hers, letting his fingers burn memories into her flesh. The heat rose from her core and radiated out from her. She burned and she knew it, accepted it, and welcomed it! Even the simplest touch from him awakening a feeling in her that no other had before. She found his mouth and greedily sought it out with her own, tasting and feeding on his lips, her tongue dancing against his. His eyes were devouring her as he broke the kiss. " Jesus!" he whispered. "I can't remember the last time I kissed like that." He took her face in his hands and drew her to him again, his fingers twining into her hair, drawing her head back as his lips trailed down her throat and shoulders.

Without speaking she quickly discarded their clothing leaving the pile of unnecessary fabric by the door as she guided him to the bed. His eyes never left her body and she realized for the first time how aroused that made her, and how aware she was suddenly of every slope and curve. She knelt in front him, easing his knees apart, kissing the rough skin of his kneecaps and the silken smoothness of his inner thighs. He tipped her face up to him, " Only if you want to." And she knew that he meant it that he would never ask of her anything that she could not willingly give. Gently she took him into her mouth, allowing the taste of him to fill it. She worked slowly, savoring him, enjoying him. Each lick purposeful, each kiss meaningful. She felt him come to life against her tongue as his legs tensed and he moaned softly. His hands gripped the bedsheets, moans turning into soft whimpers as she took more and more of him into her mouth. His noise was an aphrodisiac to her, his moans and whimpers as seductive as his touch. She could feel the heat building within her; her own needs becoming more urgent with each passing second. She wanted to please him, but she wanted also to satisfy her own desires. Slowly she allowed him to slip from her lips as she stood before him. " I don't want to wait anymore." She said quietly. " I've been waiting to long already." She kissed him deeply and eased him back onto the bed. His hands traveled across her body and she felt the need begin to rise to a fever pitch.

He entered her in one fluid motion, filling her totally. It took her breath and she cried out. There was no tenderness, no foolish romantic notions as he took her, only the raw passion of a yearning left to long unsatisfied. She felt herself melting into him with each thrust, felt every drop of guilt or confusion fall to the wayside as he took her to the heights she had only dreamed of. It wasn't long before the climax overtook her and she felt herself trembling with the need for release.

" Open your eyes." He said. " Let me see you, really see you. Let me know you."

She opened her eyes slowly as her passion peaked, allowing him to see her as no other man had. The intensity of it shook her and as he followed her to their passions peak she whispered what she had not yet dared to say.

" I love you." She knew it now, knew it in the depths of her soul. There was no point in denying it any longer. If this was the only way she could be with him then so be it. Perhaps she would never have the sweetness of suburbia that he shared with his wife, but she would always have this. She would always have his passion, his fire. She would always have HIM, the real him, the one he could show to no one else. Yes, that would be her compensation for her secrecy; that would be the vow he shared with her and no other. She felt him collapse against her, his breathing ragged, his body spent. " I love you too." He whispered.