Mrs. Taylor laughed to herself as she walked away from the phone booth. The good Mr. Rowland was in deep shit and he was going to find out soon. A good start to her evening she thought as she headed towards the bar to get a cab. There was one waiting and she stepped in, giving the driver the name of her hotel. Once in her room, she got out of her clothes, pausing to give her panties a sniff. Ahh...the sweet smell of sex. She took off her wig and had a quick rinse in the shower. It was still early, only eleven. She got into another outfit, more suitable for the club scene. Vivid red dress, that was barely legal at both ends over a fresh set of silk panties and bra. The same shoes, fresh pale red stockings, another three dabs of Chanel No.5, simple earrings, no necklace, a wedding band, her own hair and she was done. She didn't want a purse, so she got out her secret purse, a small Velcro closing wallet barely big and thick enough for her room card, a credit card and a medium supply of cash in hundreds. It wrapped around her upper thigh and was invisible unless she felt like flashing some guy with a panty shot.
The club she had in mind was a short cab ride away. On the way over she wondered if Ken was home yet and what was going to happen. 'If she's smart, she'll accept what happened and get her brains fucked out for the next ten years,' she thought. 'But maybe she's not smart.'
The club was a typical trendy place for the young and bothered. Lots of flashing light, an under lit dance floor, head pounding music and people out to party. There was a line up to get in. It usually wasn't a problem. She walked up to the beefy doorman and handed him a hundred dollar bill. As he took it, she grasped his hand and flipping up her dress, put it to her pussy and said, "I really want to get in". He smiled and in she went without a glance back at the great unwashed. Inside, she paused to get a feel for the place. It was, as expected, a place to either tease or get laid. She intended to do both.
She walked up to one of the bars and with a smile at the two guys ahead of her, was offered first place in the line. Gin and tonic sounded good and she ordered one. There were no free tables so she chose one with three younger girls and asked if she could join them. They all looked to be a bit young to be in a club. One immediately said 'yes', while the other two looked sceptical. "Don't worry," she said, "I'm not competition. The younger guys don't interest me." She didn't add that the younger girls did. That seemed to set them at ease and with a little encouragement, they relaxed and started chatting.
Mrs. Taylor told them part truths about being out on the town while her husband was away. It was easy to make them think she was out for an illicit affair. That seemed to peak their curiosity, which made it easy to probe them for some information. They were all college students and yes, they were underage. But being college students, they had little difficulty getting legitimate looking fake ID. Two of them gave Mrs. Taylor knowing looks as they admitted they were there to have 'a good time' which was college speak for getting laid. They said they had boyfriends who were away with the football team. The other one said she was single. Mrs. Taylor gave her a considered look while appearing not to. Her name was Michelle. She said she was nineteen, looked seventeen and didn't appear anywhere as committed to the evening's agenda as the other two. She was a modestly attractive young woman, dressed in a more conservative fashion than her friends. A plain white blouse covered her generous breasts. She was generally well padded but not overly so. She wore a thin sweater over the blouse, as if to hide the size of her breasts. A pleated black skirt was a bit long for the club scene. No make up or jewellery made it obvious she wasn't on the prowl. Both of her friends were in body hugging party dresses, high heels and war paint. 'Free for the fucking,' Mrs. Taylor thought, not that she had a problem with it.
When the other two were dancing, Michelle admitted that she wasn't comfortable with the idea of casual dating, college speak for random fucking, at least not as comfortable as her friends. "They seem to want to get laid by a new guy every time the boyfriends are gone for the weekend. They say that the boys are doing the same, but I don't know. What I do know is that I'm not going to be going back to campus with them. They'll both have hooked up and for all I know, will be having a foursome within the hour."
Mrs. Taylor noted that Michelle didn't seem disgusted as much as she seemed envious. "If I may," she started, "don't you ever take advantage of all this? The easy sex, I mean." Michelle gave a slight laugh. "Not yet," she replied.
"Maybe sometime I will, but a year ago, I was in high school, living at home and going to my church youth group. I'm a bit of a stick in the mud. In fact, I'm...still a ...you know." Mrs. Taylor felt a thrill of desire. She had found a suitable quarry. "Nothing wrong with that, Michelle. In fact, sometimes I wish I hadn't married so early. Take you time. You can always change...your status at a moments notice. Half the guys in here would die to do that for you. Just don't believe any of the promises they give you as they try."
Michelle laughed. "I've had my share of promises, mostly at places like this. 'Yes, I'll still respect you.' 'Of course I won't tell a soul.' And several others, all of them as feeble as those ones."
Mrs. Taylor offered a reassuring hand, which Michelle took. "It wasn't that long ago that I was getting those same promises. Even my husband gave me some. "Of course I never cheat on you.' 'I'm just going out with the boys for a beer.' Boys grow up but they don't get any older. Now I just smile at the lies and have the occasional revenge night out. It doesn't make me a better person but it does make me feel better."
'Church youth group', she thought. Michelle is going to try to get me out of here and not cheat. I think I'll let her. As if she was reading Mrs. Taylor's mind, Michelle said, "Maybe it's not my place, but...do you really think that...two wrongs make a right? I mean, far be it for me to...tell you how to live, but...you are married after all."
Mrs. Taylor gave Michelle's hand a squeeze and said, "It's hard to explain. It really is. In fact, I really don't want to talk about it. It's bad enough to let some strange guy...you know...but to explain why I let it happen? I don't think I could. I just get so...angry and so...lonely. I just want to...get out and..."
Michelle now gave Mrs. Taylor's hand a squeeze. "You don't have to explain or justify. I can't imagine what it would be like to be married to a husband that..."
"Fucks around on you, parks his dick in some other woman's vagina?" Mrs. Taylor finished. "Lets some other woman do what I'm supposed to be doing?" Mrs. Taylor let her eyes get misty. Then she made a deliberate effort to look around the room.