Deceived
I had been expecting my wife's co-worker to be with her when I got home on Tuesday evening. Susan had told me that morning to expect her to be there. What I hadn't expected was the find her alone. I also hadn't expected her to be such a cracking looking woman.
'So, you are Steven, the wonderful husband Susan has been telling me all about.' She held her hand out. 'I'm Tandy.'
And I'm a blithering idiot, I told myself as I tried to behave like a forty-year-old husband and not a star-struck adolescent as I took hold of her offered hand. 'Yes, Tandy, Susan told me you would be here. Where is Susan?'
'Sorry, your wife is not here. When she ordered the pizza, she was told it would be an hour before it could be delivered, so she's gone to collect it. She asked me to look after you till she got back.'
Realizing I still held her hand I slowly let go. 'Yes, well, I'd better go and change.'
She gave me a dazzling smile. 'Don't be too long, Susan told me to pour you a whisky and myself a glass of wine and wait for you in the lounge while you change.'
I think I changed in record time, my head filled with that smile she gave me and still feeling like a complete idiot letting her have that effect on me. I took a deep breath, hoping Susan would be back soon before I disgraced myself anymore.
When I entered the lounge, there she was, sitting right opposite my leather lounger, skirt above her knees, wine in her hand, smiling at me. 'I've poured your whisky, no ice.' The dazzling smile lit up her face. 'Come and enjoy it with me.'
I made it to my chair and reached for my glass, 'I never poured myself that much whisky,' I told her as I took a sip.'
'I like my men to enjoy their drink,' she replied, leaning forward with her glass until it touched mine. 'To us.'
'To us,' I replied, getting hot under my collar if I'd been wearing one as she gave me that dazzling smile again.
'Susan tells me you have been married for nineteen years,' She was still sitting on the edge of her chair, and her skirt was even higher up her legs.'
'Yes, we have, though we met four years before we were married.'
Suddenly she looked in pain. 'Cramp, my right foot.' She hurriedly put her glass down, kicked her shoe off and raised her knee to try and reach her foot. The effect was very revealing as a wonderful amount of bare thigh came into view. 'Please, can you grab my foot and massage it.'
Somehow, I got my head together and took her foot in both hands. It was a smooth and quite a lovely foot, with beautifully painted toenails. Her leg was now stretched out and indecently separated from her other leg. All this happened in an instant of time before I even thought about massaging it.
I knew how to massage a lady's foot. It was something I often did for Susan. But this foot was on another woman's leg and that leg was bare and unlike when I was massaging my wife's foot, I was trying not to look up its glorious length as I massaged the cramp out of her foot.
After drinking nearly a full glass of whisky, it was impossible, totally impossible, not to look up that leg, which led my eyes straight to a totally bare pussy.
'You've done that before,' the owner of the leg told me.
When I looked up, Tandy's eyes were on me with all the acknowledgement of what she had allowed me to see. 'Yes, I replied, trying to hide my embarrassment. Is it helping?'
'Oh yes, you have wonderful hands. Susan must like you massaging her feet'
Foolishly, I looked down. Nothing had changed. 'You have lovely feet,' I told her.
'Thank you,' she responded, without any attempt to remove her foot from my grasp or close her legs together. 'You can let go of my foot now, Steven.' I was told a couple of minutes later.
Slowly I lowered it to the floor. 'Glad I could help,' I said, knowing it had been a set-up.
'Oh, you did, you helped me a lot.' Slowly she stood up, rearranged her skirt and slipped her shoe on again. 'Sorry about that, I've got to get myself together before your wife gets back with the pizza.' Then she sat down, picked up her glass and drank the rest of her wine. 'Shouldn't you be laying the table?' she suggested.
Susan returned with the pizza before I had time to lay the table. We had our usual kissing greeting and she was full of apologies for leaving me alone with Tandy. 'I hope she looked after you like I asked her to?'
'She poured me a little more whisky than I normally do,' I told her and wondered what my wife would say if she knew about the foot massage.
I had always thought my wife was the most beautiful girl in the world. Just like every other husband who loved their wife. Eating pizza with her and Tandy I found myself making comparisons. Even I couldn't deny that Tandy was the better of the two, but in a totally different, more exotic, sensual way.
'Steve.' Susan's sharp word caught my attention and I turned to look at her.
'Where were you, darling, Tandy has invited us to have dinner with her and Dennis on Saturday.'
I glanced at Tandy and got another of her glorious smiles. 'I think you and Dennis will get on well together,' she told me.
'We will both be looking forward to it,' my wife told her for both of us.
The rest of the week, Susan kept telling me how much she was looking forward to our evening with Tandy and Dennis. 'You will like Dennis,' she assured me several times. 'I met him about a month ago, you remember, when her car broke down and I drove her home.'
I remembered Susan telling me about Tandy's car breaking down, and vaguely her telling me she had met Tandy's husband. I also remembered she didn't get home till after eight that evening.
By Friday I was getting a little concerned with my wife's enthusiasm about our dinner on Saturday. She was making out that Dennis was too good to be true and Tandy, well I was just going to love the chance to spend time with Tandy. Unfortunately, for my wife, I already was thinking just that. My memory of massaging her foot was as vivid as ever.
I had never seen the dress my wife chose to wear. 'Do you like it, darling.?' I was asked after she twirled around.
What husband wouldn't? Thin straps supported a straight bodice which allowed a full view of her breasts almost to the nipples. Any support for them must have been built into the dress. The waist was figure forming and the skirt just long enough to be decent. It was a red dress of infinite promises.