I just made it to my phone on time, trying to unlock it with wet fingers isn't a fun thing to do, and I just managed to do it before he would have rung off.
"I'm sorry honey, I was in the shower, I'm all slippery and wet!"
"Damn! I thought you'd save yourself for me when I get home tomorrow night. Who's making you all slippery and wet?"
For a milli-second my heart rate jumped, until his mouth quickly morphed into his beautiful smile, the smile that told me he loved me.
"Doh silly, I was in the shower, you're 5 minutes early. I'm still soapy and have conditioner in my hair."
He made the sexy little laugh he has, his teeth flashed white as he slowly shook his head.
"We have a bit of a problem so it's all hands on deck here, I need to shift so I rang....early."
His smile faded, why did he pause in the sentence? It worried me. He regained his composure and the smile returned, at least in part. I suddenly wondered if he's seen something here, something to give things away.
"Jimmi, are you OK? You look like something suddenly crossed your mind."
"Sorry Jade, something important going on, I need to go. Weather permitting, the chopper should be here in the morning."
"These three weeks feel like they are getting longer, the two weeks you are back at home feel as if they are getting shorter. I really want you back in our bed."
"Just say the word Jade and I'll quit, the money doesn't matter, but we do. I've said all along for the last five years, if you want me to get a land-based job, rather than out on these North Sea gas platforms, don't be afraid to ask for what you want."
"That job means a lot to you, plus the pay is out of this world. I love you Jimmi and I promise we have three weeks of missed fun to catch up on! I love you, Jimmi."
"I meant what I said Jade, I'll get a job in a supermarket rather than lose what we have. I loved you, Jade. Sorry I need to go."
I felt uneasy, it sounded like he said 'loved me' not 'love me', I must be getting paranoid. But something had troubled him, it was as if something had occurred part way through the video call to make his demeanour change. I looked behind me, there was nothing there to give me away, I was so careful to cover my tracks and make sure everything seemed normal. My 'special time' was carefully engineered to not arouse suspicion.
On the Friday nights I went out with the girls I was a model wife, never danced with any of the men that always sought us out in the club. I rode back in the taxi with Jimmi's sister, Beth, who dropped me off first, then I rang our doorbell, knowing his watch would signal to him I was home. I would stand and drop my coat from my shoulders and blow him a kiss into the doorbell camera, knowing he would look at it later. I never gave him, or anyone else, the slightest doubt I was anything but a faithful wife who had one night a week out with friends, whilst my husband braved the dangers of the North Sea to sustain our fantastic life.
I took the new electric blue lingerie set off the hook on the bedroom door. Still in the packaging, it was mounted on a cardboard two-dimensional part torso showing how it all fitted together. Full of various hoops it basically formed a harness. Add some pale blue stockings, matching thong I could see I was sexy as hell. It made me shiver at the prospect of showing it to Dan, up close and personal. Our liaisons were quick and lustful, there were no preliminaries, no dinners, dancing or those subtleties of seduction that were part of a typical relationship, if I took my marriage to Jimmi as typical.
For the last eighteen months it was the same, most Fridays that Jimmi was away at work. I would get ready, go to the club at least an hour earlier than the rest of the girls. Once the taxi dropped me at the club, I went in the rear staff entrance, my body knew what was coming and my scant underwear was always damp and sticky before I reached Dan's office.
I would walk in, lock the door and Dan would peel me out of whatever outer covering I would be wearing. He insisted that I would have some form of lingerie on, so my collection had increased significantly as our tryst had continued, to the point I had to box much of it, and try and hide it at the back of our large mirrored built-in wardrobes. Dan would stand and walk around me, devouring me with his eyes with the look of a hungry wolf. At five nine in heels, what Jimmi called the perfect body blessed with lustrous long red hair I knew I had it. Dan wanted it, and he took it, often pushed roughly across his desk as he jack-hammered his magnificent cock in and out of my hungry holes until I was a wretch that could barely stand.
There was no love, simply a release for both of us. He would tell me what a dirty slut I was, how he was going to stretch me out so my husband would know; that his cum would still be leaking out long after Jimmi would be home. All this degradation and humiliation only heightened my sexual pleasure and release each time it came. And that was frequently more than once during each short tryst we had. Once he was finished, I would use the bathroom to clean myself up, change into fresh 'normal' underwear and stuff my soiled lingerie into my handbag before going out the back door, walking in the front of the club to go join my none-the-wiser friends, including my sister-in-law. They all thought I had just rocked up, unaware that I had been above them for at least an hour trading my body and soul for an addictive experience.
It followed the same format of every Friday we were out. Some wine, a few cocktails, lots of talking, laughter we would dance together and some would dance with the odd male partner. But not me, I always turned them down, when they were a little more persistent, I would raise my hand and shake my wedding ring at them. But that was the secondary reason. Dan told me in the early days, if I so much as danced in the club with another man, then I could forget coming to his club early. I needed the raw sensations he gave me, something I could, and would not, ask my husband for so I made sure I kept to his request.
After a fun night out, I rode home with Beth, my sister-in-law as we giggled and chatted. I walked up our drive after she dropped me off and rang the doorbell. Looking at it, I leant forward and air kissed as sexually as I could, telling Jimmi I missed him, before I opened the door and let myself in. At some point through the night, he would see it and send me a little emoji kiss in WhatsApp as a reply.
When I woke in the morning, I could see he had messaged me, but the message wasn't quite what I was expecting. It just said there was a problem and he was delayed, he would be home on Monday. I did start to worry, did he know something, but how? He had never been to the club so there was no way he could have planted a camera there. Dan told me to always wait and look in my handbag for a few moments before going into the club, but look around. Had a car pulled into the car park behind the taxi, were there any cars in the car park where someone was watching me? If for any reason I felt I had been followed I was to go into the club via the front door. Surely, I hadn't missed anything? I put it down to a problem on the rig, it had happened before, but I felt uneasy.
Saturday morning, I washed the new lingerie as, yet again, whatever I had worn for Dan was guaranteed to be soiled. The night before, Dan had pushed me to the floor on my knees at the end of our playdate and face-fucked me, with a hand each side of my head. At the point he started to come, I knew what to do. My eyes turned up to look at him and I pushed my tongue out of my mouth as he withdrew, the elixir of our tryst coating my mouth, lips and tongue. As he pulled back, I maintained eye contact, exactly as Dan wants it, as the mixture of his juice and my drool would drip in strands from my tongue, onto my body and lingerie. He was marking his territory.
Mid-morning my phone beeped with a message from Beth. Jimmi had messaged her and told her he was not making it back and asked if she would take me out for some retail therapy for the day on Sunday. Her husband Stan was playing golf for the day so we took the train down into London and did exactly that. I was excited that he was due home the following day evening but was dismayed when I received a message mid-afternoon, telling me he wouldn't be home until Tuesday. There were no emojis, simply text, which was not the way we tended to communicate these days. I responded immediately with a sad face, a kiss and a couple of hearts and waited. Nothing came back. I called him, and it went straight to answerphone. A few minutes later Beth's phone pinged announcing the arrival of a message. As she read it, I felt sure her eyes rolled up to look at me momentarily, before she typed a response then put her phone back into her handbag. She looked at me and smiled, but it felt off. They can't know, I cover my tracks, and there is simply no evidence. It still made me feel uncomfortable. I asked her if it was important. She literally looked straight at me;
"It was Stan, apparently one of his friends has just found out his wife has been cheating on him."
It felt as if my heart had jumped into my throat. It felt like she had been staring straight into my soul.
"Oh that's awful, do we know them?"
She still looked into what felt like my soul as she replied.
"Yes, we both know him, but not her, she's a stranger to us."
It made me feel uncomfortable, I wanted to ask more but felt it was wise to say nothing.
***************
I went back through the house tidying up Monday and Tuesday. My new soiled lingerie was now clean and dry, and joined the large collection I had gathered over the last eighteen months. I started to think it would now be wise to sort through it and get rid of some of it, the idea pained me, as none of it was cheap, and none of it had been for my husband's benefit. That may have been a mistake, perhaps I should start to reuse some of it for his return home. He said he was due home around four thirty so I went to the gym at twelve to try and get my mind to calm itself before he came home. After the first time I had fucked Dan, I was sure that the word 'guilty' was tattooed over my face, despite making an extreme effort to act naturally the first time Jimmi came home. But Jimmi said nothing, that tattoo of my shameful act was simply not visible to him. Once I realised this, I knew I was going to be safe, as long as I played by the simple rules: Act normal, don't try and over compensate, don't deny my husband, and my tryst never took place anywhere other than Dan's office on those girl's nights out.
