Estelle, Stell for short, sat in the parking lot of the hotel and checked her makeup in the mirror on the visor of her car. She wasnât driving some expensive luxury sedan or exotic roadster. The 10-year-old Ford Escape SUV was her everyday driver. Once she was satisfied that her makeup and hair would pass inspection, she started the car to head home. The clock on the dashboard told her it was a little after 11PM. The trip home was about 15 minutes, so she would be ahead of the time she told her husband, Derrick, she would arrive.
As she drove home, Stell squirmed slightly in the leather seat of the SUV, thinking about the last 4 hours spent with her paramour in the hotel room. Austin was 6 years her junior, tall, broad shouldered, and still had the body of an athlete. A chance meeting at a Chamber of Commerce meeting 8 months ago led to a series of lunches and then dinners, culminating in a steamy evening at a downtown hotel. That casual tryst became a regular set of evenings and the occasional couple of days when the opportunity presented itself.
Pulling into the driveway, Stell could see that the dim light of the television through the curtains on the window in the den. Derrick was probably watching one of his Netflix shows, waiting for her to get in. As she stepped from her car, Stell took a deep breath to steady herself. Derrick would be expecting her to give up some information about where she and her workmates had been and what they had done. Practice, over the course of the last few months, had honed Stellâs skills. Inside the house, Stell put her purse on the table in the entryway and went directly to the den. As she expected, Derrick was there watching TV.
âHave a good time?â
âYeah.â
âWhere did you go?â
âRoscoeâs for dinner and then to Club Bell for drinks.â
âWho was there?â
âMe, Erica, Teresa, and Julie.â
Derrick turned off the TV and stood up, stretching as he rose from the recliner.
âLetâs go to bed. It was a rough day today. I had to fire Robert and Angie.â
Stell was shocked.
âWhat happened?â
âRobertâs wife got wind that he and Angie were doing the nasty. A private investigator got the goods on them. She filed on Robert, changed the locks, and tossed him out of the house. Robert was, technically, Angieâs supervisor and that invoked our non-fraternization policy. It was tough, but the job fell to me since I run that department.â
âHoly crap. That seems a little severe if they werenât doing it on company time.â
âDoesnât matter. It gives the whole thingâs a sense of impropriety. And my boss was adamant. His wife was cheating on him. Even though she cheated, he got screwed in the divorce and has a real hard-on for cheaters of any kind.â
In the bedroom, Derrick began to strip to his boxers, his usual nighttime attire. Stell chose a modest nightgown from her drawer and went to the bathroom to change. She was careful to make sure her panties were wrapped in a towel and put in the bottom of the dirty clothes hamper. As she rolled the panties in the towel, she thought again of Austin, his 8-inch cock, and his robust and athletic style of loving.
Coming back into the bedroom, she found Derrick already under the covers. She slid into her side of the bed, doused the lamp on the bedside table, and shuffled closer to Derrick. Nestling against his back, she put an arm over his waist as she spooned against his back. In an incredibly short time, both of them were snoring softly.
At work the next day, Stell was having a great day. The contracts on two houses were nearing finalization, she had a closing that would net her more than $12,000, and she had three showings that afternoon. Life was good. Since she had achieved her brokerâs license and gone out on her own, her income had more than trebled, putting her on par with Derrickâs earnings as an attorney.
The closing went well, and the title company promised that her commission check would be deposited in her company account by the end of business that day. After a fine lunch at her favorite downtown restaurant, Stell headed back to the office. She had a spring in her step and a smile on her face as she walked in the front door. Looking at her darling little receptionist, Stell was surprised to see the beautiful young womanâs eyeâs showing a hint of fear. Before Stell could approach the desk to find out what was wrong, a man stood from a chair in the reception area and spoke her name.
âEstelle Mathison?â
Stell turned. It was highly unusual for anyone to call her by her given name.
âYes. May I help you.â
âMay I see some identification please?â
âWhy?â
âItâs a matter of legality and requirements.â
âWhat legality?â
The man sighed.
âMaâam. I am required to verify your identification before I can continue with our business.â
There was a flash of frustration in Stellâs face, but she found her driverâs license in her purse and showed it to the man. He compared it to a note card clipped to a Manila envelope in his hands. Stell instantly realized that he was a process server. It wasnât unusual to have service performed at her real estate agency. Stell relaxed a bit as the man handed her license back with the Manila envelope. Being served legal papers was a regular occurrence in her real estate business.
âMs. Mathison, you have been served.â
âThank you. I guess one of our clients isnât happy with our service.â
The man looked at her almost apologetically.
âI guess.â