Four months. I couldn't believe it, it happened again in only four damned months! My finger traced each line of the letter, my lips moving as I read, quickly, scanning it, my heart racing as I felt the old wound resurface. It was her again, I recognized the handwriting. This bitch was enjoying his company on every trip. She was even parading around as his wife! She wrote how she liked to tease him in public, then take him home and screw his brains out. She wrote about how she is bragging to all her friends about the two of them! She even included a line that told him how much she loved climaxing on his cock! At first, my hands trembled as I read each line, my eyes tearing up and dripping lines of wetness down my cheeks. After I re-read the letter, I got angry. A deep and furious anger that only a woman spurned can create. Tony had fucked around on me once. So I fucked around on him once, even getting pregnant by the man who took me in our bedroom. I had miscarried, but Tony knew I was serious about the consequences if he did it again. Evidently he didn't take me seriously enough, or he was much stupider than I thought. Some bitch was trolling for Tony, and he was falling for it. Now it was my turn...
I didn't even wait for him to come home. I figured that if he wanted another woman, then I could have another man. I snorted at that thought. Maybe even men, as I threatened him with last time. It was mid-afternoon when I finished the letter, and knew I had time to prepare before I went out. I showered and cleaned myself up, making sure my legs and armpits were shaved carefully, and that I was squeaky clean. A few dashes of perfume, and it was time to select the right dress for the occasion.
I looked through my closet, fingering each dress and blouse, a smile crossing my lips as I remembered my night with Eric, the blouse and skirt hanging together. I looked again at the long black satin halter dress, but still, it was too long, too concealing. As I kept looking, I thought of Eric, and wondered if I could find him again. Would he be willing to have me again? Should I tell him I had borne his child? All of these thoughts flowed through and over my mind as I finally found the perfect dress, dark, mysterious, and easy.
It was royal blue satin, backless and with a halter top, the bodice secured around my neck with a matching satin bow. The drape of the cool, slippery fabric down the front did a magnificent job of showing off my C-cup cleavage. This was the dress I was to wear at the corporate party where Tony was announced as the new Regional Manager. Tony and I had planned to go dancing afterwards, and the dress was a perfect tease for him, but I became violently ill with the flu, and Tony had to go it alone, the dress unused. The skirt was a perfect, high-waisted gathering of the rich, luxurious fabric, formed in a perfect circle that was hemmed just above my knees. It was longer than the skirt I wore with Eric, but the whole dress screamed sexiness. I reached into my drawer, and pulled out the same white thigh-high hose I wore with Eric, pulling them on, making sure there were no snags or runs. I chose the matching blue satin heels that we bought with the dress, and I was almost ready to go. I sat down for a moment, and had to think what I was going to do: spend an evening, spend the night, or even make true on my threat to spend the whole weekend with another man. Or men. I went back into the closet and retrieved my soft bag, and began to pack a few toiletries, including my pink satin robe, a couple of pairs of panties, since I wasn't wearing any right then, sweats, and then I reached in for another few other outfits, two nice, and the other rather kinky, folding them neatly, hoping they wouldn't wrinkle too badly.
I went to leave the house, taking a last look around. This was my last view of my home as a happy place. I didn't know what was going to happen in the coming days, but one thing was sure. Either my husband was going to try and divorce me, an issue that would be made more difficult for him since my parents had considerable wealth and resources that Tony was interested in (yes, I was a spoiled little rich girl...) or our roles in our marriage were going to change. Either way, the little-girl dreams of a happy, wholesome family were fading as quickly as the sunlight of the coming night. I dropped his latest letter on the floor where he was sure to find it, and left the house.
I drove along the freeway, and pulled into the parking lot of the same club where I met Eric. It was still early on a Thursday evening, and the sun was just below the horizon, making it a little hard to see, even with the streetlights coming on. The late summer heat was beginning to be fanned by the sundowner winds, the fresh breeze feeling wonderful under my skirt, tickling my pubic hair. The lot was relatively empty, so I made sure to keep my skirt under control, lest the entire city get a look at my body. My nipples began to get hard from the soft folds of my satin bodice fluttering in the wind, and I had to take another breath as I began to get caught up in the sensation.
My heels made the familiar click-clack on the sidewalk as I entered the club, the interior darker than I remember, but just as loud. Of course, at this hour, it was nearly empty, and the few men inside appeared to have been there all day, except for the table of men in business suits who looked like they had gone for a three-martini lunch, and stretched it out to include a keg of beer, too! I didn't fashion the idea of being with a drunkard, so I turned and left, unable to control the back of my skirt as I exited the place, letting the whole joint see whatever my skirt floated high enough for them to see. It must have been something, as I heard some yelling and whistling as the door closed.
I looked about, trying to see options, and noticed that there was another place across the street. I stepped to the corner, my fingers on my skirt as the breeze gusted, waiting for the light to change. Just as the light turned green, I heard the loud blast of a siren behind me, and startling me as my path was quickly blocked by a police car! The instant the car stopped, out popped the biggest policeman I had ever seen!
"Hi!" he called loudly, "I haven't seen you before... Who you workin' for?" The blank look on my face must have demonstrated my total lack of comprehension. He smiled at me, and then apologized. "Sorry. We are working a vice sting down the street, and I thought you were a working girl!" My mouth opened in shock, as I finally realized what he was saying.
"Excuse me" I said with a touch of anger, holding up my left had so he could see my ring, "I am here to meet someone, but I assure you that I am not here to sell my body!" His eyes narrowed for a moment, then he asked to see my ID. I fished through my small clutch, and pulled out my driver's license, doing my best to appear as lady-like as possible, my red-fingernails clashing harshly with the faded white card. He took the card, and looked me over once more, then went to his police car, obviously to check my records. I stood there and was embarrassed, especially as the breeze was pulling at my skirt, at one point threatening to expose myself to him, and ruining my plans. I took a couple of steps to one side, my toe nervously tapping the pavement as I waited for him to do whatever it was cops did. A few beeps on his car computer-thing and he stepped back to me, holding my license out. I took it daintily as he took a harsh look at me.
"Lady, I don't know what you are up to, but I suspect it is no good. Unfortunately, you are clean, and I can't stop you. But it is very obvious to me that you do not belong here. I suggest you get yourself back home before it gets too dark. I don't want to have to arrest you later, or worse, call the coroner and your husband while standing over your dead body... Got it?" His last question really was more of an order, and I could merely nod my head, and flash a weak smile. With that admonishment, he got back in his car, making the remark that my outfit made it look like I might be a working girl. A high-priced one, but still a hooker.
I glared at him as he roared off, forced to stand there as the signal had changed again. As I fumed for a moment, I realized the delicious irony that I was not going to sell my body, but was planning on giving it away! The light finally changed, and I strutted across the street, taking my time, letting my hips and body do some of the communicating for me with the several people I crossed paths with.
I did my best to ignore the surreptitious glances and outright lecherous stares by the men I passed, and even one or two ladies, as well! I shuddered inwardly when the thought of a woman being interested in me dawned. I know that there were men who fantasized about being with two women, or watching as the two women were together, but I definitely was not one of those women! The last fading rays of sunshine faded, and night fell, almost with a thump, like they say in the movies. As my heels click-clacked down the sidewalk, my breeze began to get a little stronger, and it took more effort to control my skirt. The filmy satin floated about with every step, my pussy getting excited as the breeze tickled my bikini-trimmed hair, and my nipples rising as the soft satin covering them teased and tickled them.
I crossed an alley to get to the entrance of the club I saw, and glanced down it. It looked like any old alley, dark, dirty, and scary (at least to me), and I could see a couple of guys down there, sitting on the ground, leaning against one of the buildings. They were filthy dirty, and obviously homeless. I felt sad for them, a pang of guilt flashing through me as I looked at them, making eye contact. Their sad eyes telling me a story of horrors and sadness that I could not really associate with. My skirt was flitting about pretty hard by now, and I was sure they got a good look at me, before I realized I was gawking and needed to be on my way. I continued to the next doorway, muffled hip-hop music now blaring from it.
