Joseph Denton stood at the front door, impatient to be let in. He had not wanted anyone to notice his arrival, even taking the precaution of parking his Volvo two streets away in case it was recognised. He need not have worried though; it was early afternoon and nobody was about. Looking furtively around him, he was surprised by his surroundings: a pleasant house, on a nice road, in a decent neighbourhood.
After a couple of long minutes, he saw a dark shape approaching through the frosted glass pains of the door. He took a step back as it opened.
'Yes?' the woman standing in front of him snapped.
The voice was recognisable from the phone call Joseph had apprehensively made a few hours earlier, but it took him a moment to reconcile the lady now before him to the description he had been given. She stood there in a thick navy blue robe, bottle-blonde hair scraped back from her forehead into a short ponytail. There was just a touch too much make-up on her face, doubtless an attempt to adequately conceal the sallow skin that lay beneath.
She did not look like the thirty-year-old he had been told she was. That she was supposed to be five years younger than him had appealed, but she actually looked at least five years older. Her description of her figure as curvaceous seemed accurate enough though, but it was rather hard to tell what was underneath that shapeless dark garment.
'Hello, I'm Joseph... I called earlier,' he said, trying to sound at least moderately confident in such an alien situation.
'Oh right, yes. I'm Bianca. Hello. You're ten minutes early. I suppose you'd better come in.'
Taken aback at her unwelcoming tone, he wondered if she had considered making him wait on the doorstep until the appointed time. He had purposely travelled almost twenty miles to the next town so that he wouldn't be spotted, so naturally he wanted to get inside quickly; this was not the kind of thing that bank managers were supposed to do.
The idea to do this had been planted in his head for almost a year now. Ever since the birth of their second child, sex with his wife, Claire, had been unfulfilling on the rare occasions he had managed to convince her to participate. Before that, their lovemaking had been an important part of their relationship: passionate, sometimes spontaneous and, if she was in the mood, varied and exciting.
He could, albeit reluctantly, understand Claire's situation. Chasing around after two kids all day would leave her exhausted by the time he arrived home from the bank, so to expect her to perform in bed upon his whim was unreasonable. But it wasn't as if he was bored of their relationship. On the contrary, he felt content with his family and he would not do anything to jeopardise that.
Joseph had also grown to hate how the issue of sex had become such a rich source of tension and arguments between Claire and him. So, somehow, in his mind he had convinced himself that what he was doing here, this afternoon, would in a perverse way help their relationship. The only potential consequences that he allowed himself to consider were that he would no longer be so demanding on Claire, and she wouldn't feel so obliged.
But he had had to wait for the right opportunity to enact his solution. This eventually presented itself when Claire had announced that she was going to visit her parents for a few days, as they had been firmly hinting that it had been a while since they had seen their grandchildren. Joseph had feigned enthusiasm for the trip, convincing Claire that he wanted to accompany them, but alas pressures of work would mean that he would have to remain at home.
Bianca lead him through into the living room. He did not know if this was her house, or if she merely used it to work from. He sat down on the sofa, his palms slightly sweaty in anticipation of what was to come. Looking around, Joseph noted how clean the place was, obviously recently redecorated, with nice furniture... he found himself thinking that Claire would be quite impressed with the interior design.
Bianca's demeanour seemed more relaxed and friendly now. As she stood in front of him, he noticed that her robe reached down to just below her knees, and that she was wearing black fishnet stockings, together with black patent leather high heels. A bit clichéd he thought, like the name she had given him. Bianca... he had had to suppress a snigger when she had first told him that on the phone earlier. He knew that probably was not her real name, and he suspected that she knew he knew.
'Would you like a drink Joe?'
'Yes please, what have you got?' He was slightly taken aback at her familiarity in using the shortened form of his name, but felt too embarrassed to correct her. Of more concern to him was getting a drink. That was something he could do with right now, preferably something strong to calm his nerves and help relax him.
'Cola, orange juice, water,' she replied. It was clear that nothing alcoholic was on offer.
'Just an orange juice, please.'
She crossed into the adjacent kitchen, his eyes following her through the open door as she retrieved the juice from the refrigerator, watching as the robe stretched across her nicely rounded buttocks when she bent down. She returned with a drink each for them.
'Have you got something for me?' she asked.
Joseph's face creased in momentary confusion. Was he supposed to have brought a little gift? Bianca just smiled and rubbed her thumb and forefinger together. Realising at once what she meant, he quickly reached for the inside pocket of his jacket, pulling out an envelope containing the crisp notes that he had withdrawn yesterday from his own bank.
Disconcertedly, he watched her take it into the kitchen, open it and inspect the contents, before stuffing it into a draw. There was no need for her to check, he thought, of course it contained the agreed amount. He was considered trustworthy, and he was used to people treating him as such.
As Bianca came back into the living room, Joseph's eyes looked up to the ceiling as he heard the unmistakeable sound of somebody walking about. Was her scheduling so tight that she had not quite finished with another man, he wondered.
'Someone up there?' he asked, trying not to sound concerned, although he was.
'Oh don't worry, that's Gary - he's just my driver. He won't disturb us.'
Joseph nodded. His immediate thought was that Gary was probably more than just a chauffeur. Her minder perhaps, or debt collector, or husband? Whatever he was, Joseph reckoned that Gary deliberately liked to make Bianca's guests aware of his presence early on in her meetings, to discourage any notion of misbehaviour. Anyone who did act up would probably be very much disturbed by Gary.
Bianca chatted with Joseph for a few minutes whilst they sipped their drinks. She was evidently expert at making small talk without touching on any subject that might prove uncomfortable for either of them, and they passed the time without revealing anything personal. Nevertheless, he was curious about her and her background, and he speculated whether she was married, or divorced, or a mother.
As good as her conversational skills were, he was not keen for these pleasantries to eat into his allotted hour; he had not come here to hear her views on the weather or current affairs. He became increasingly taciturn, hoping she would get the hint.
'So, would you like to go upstairs Joe?' she finally announced.
'Yes, of course,' he replied, immediately putting the remains of his drink down and standing up, keen to follow Bianca.
'Just remember sweetheart, there are two rules: no kissing, and you have to wear a condom.'
Both rules were fine by Joseph. He did not intend to get emotionally intimate with this woman, and he did not intend putting himself - or more crucially Claire - on a long course of antibiotics. He was here for one thing only.
When they reached the top of the stairs, Joseph counted four doors, all shut. He wondered which one Gary was behind, and whether he would be listening in to their activities. Bianca lead Joseph towards the furthest door, opening it to reveal a large, sparsely furnished room with plain white walls. He guessed by its size that this was the master bedroom. The afternoon sun poured into it through the translucent blinds, drawn to spare the neighbours the sight of her at work.
They stood facing each other. Without a word, Bianca undid her robe, chucking it onto a chair in the corner. She remained still for a moment, allowing Joseph to inspect her. He was pleasantly surprised by her body, her face perhaps a poor advertisement for the rest of her.
Her full breasts strained against a black lacy bra that almost struggled to support them. Around her stomach, which had a distinct feminine bulge to it, she wore a garter belt to hold up her fishnet stockings. The broad curves of her hips seemed to be accentuated by high-waist black panties, although Joseph noticed that her lingerie was not a matching set.
'You look lovely,' he commented, because he felt he should be polite. And he supposed she did, in her own way, but he could not help thinking how he preferred Claire's more slender frame. Maybe, though, it was better that she was so different to his wife.
