Another slow build-up in readiness for the next chapter
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ALL CHARACTERS ARE ENTIRELY FICTIONAL
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Diana slept fitfully. She thought she had made up her mind but as the hours dragged by doubt and fear haunted her. But her excitement also grew. She had considered her plans for some time and made them as watertight as she could. The one unknown, the one weakness was out of her control. It was the reaction of her target, the twenty-year-old from across the road.
Her husband Keith had lost interest in her sexually and it had become evident that he cheated on her often. The one consolation was that no woman proved willing or able to retain his interest for long. He had no affairs as such, just a series of flings, usually with women ten years or more his junior. This was a consolation of sorts. It made her feel less inadequate.
After her initial shock, outrage and sense of betrayal Diana had begun to take stock. They discussed divorce but in the end she decided against it. Keith held a well-paid job, and she enjoyed many of the benefits – a house that was spacious and tastefully appointed in a good neighbourhood. She had a new car every two years, and a generous spending allowance. Although she herself also worked, to live off her salary alone – even with a decent divorce settlement – would mean a big drop in living standards.
She decided that on balance her lot could be a lot worse. In some ways she and Keith were still quite fond of each other. And for his part he had promised not to flaunt his cheating, and to restrict his spending on his – "companions". It suited him to remain married. It looked good at the company, and it was an asset to have a wife who could host occasional dinner parties. So a kind of agreement had been reached. On one thing she had been adamant. She would never have sex with him again. He could even continue to share her bed if he chose, but their relationship from now on would be celibate. It had already been so for some time anyway, but she wanted to make it clear that it would now stay that way.
Unconsciously a first she had begun to restore her shattered self-esteem. She became more aware of how she dressed, and whilst she still dressed conservatively she began to dress more smartly, and a bit more expensively than before. She knew that she was no match for the younger floozy that her husband was now enjoying.
At first she did it at first to feel feminine, to restore her self-esteem. But she noticed that from time to time at work and even around town a few heads did begin to turn, a few glances were cast her way. To her surprise her libido, which had lain dormant for longer than she cared to admit, was now beginning to stir. And with some delight she noticed that one or two blokes rested their gaze on her legs and breasts. Thomas, the twenty-year old lad across the road, was one of them. Given that she was now forty-three that was very heartening.
She went to a beautician and took her advice on how to use make-up to make the most of her appearance. Despite advice to the contrary she still kept her hair in a bit of a retro style, brushed up and back on her head.
She had no desire for an affair, feeling unable to trust a man enough for an emotional attachment at the moment. Besides, she felt that she would not know where to start. Certainly not the workplace, where it would soon be the main topic of gossip. Not a dating agency or an ad in the newspaper or on the internet. In any case she was not looking for romance, and the kind of man who would be interested in a "no strings fun" advert was not a welcoming prospect.
She had wondered whether she was hoping for the impossible: no romantic ties but a strong sense of her femininity, to be told that she was attractive, to be held and kissed. To have sex, yes, but to have it with someone whose discretion could be relied upon, and with someone who would at least treat her with some respect.
At first she had almost laughed out loud when the thought of Thomas came to mind. At twenty years old he was just less than half her own age. He was average looking and although tall he was far from athletic in build. In addition he was pretty quiet and shy. As far as she knew he had never yet even had a girlfriend.
On the other hand... he was pleasant enough, polite, and came from a decent family. She was on speaking terms rather than close terms with his parents, and a year ago when Thomas began work at an accountancy firm on the same side of town where she worked she had offered to give him a lift. She dropped him off close to his workplace; she virtually drove past it on her way to work.
She had got to know him a bit, and although she did not positively fancy him, nothing about him put her off him, either. Maybe, she told herself, maybe Thomas was not such an illogical choice after all.
There were other advantages. Given their age difference, and the fact that outwardly she seemed happily married, it would never occur to anyone that she might be having sex with him. His nondescript build and appearance, his shyness, and the fact that she already gave him a lift to work would also prevent suspicion. His not being the obvious candidate for sordid "encounters" – she could not bear to use any other term in her mind – was a definite bonus.
As she toyed with the idea, another advantage suggested itself. He tended to be disorganised. Although she set off for work at more or less the same time each day, the time of his arrival for his lift with her varied. Some days he ended up trotting across the road as she was reversing the car down the drive. Some days he knocked on the door just as she was about to leave the house. But other days he arrived with five minutes or so before they were due to depart.
Thus the wheels of The Plan had begun to stir into motion. The skulduggery, the thinking around possible pitfalls and the need to cover all eventualities engrossed her. They also fuelled her excitement and helped to rebuild her self-esteem. She was now no longer a victim of her husband's philandering; she was taking control – and how!
Of course, there was some risk that Thomas might prove indiscreet about their seedy encounters, but she thought it unlikely. Firstly there was his shyness. Secondly, whom would he tell, and what would he gain from it? His parents would be shocked and outraged, any friends or colleagues of his would feel the same, or they would consider or even call him a loser for being unable to find someone his own age. And if such factors would make him want to keep his mouth shut about her, they would probably also ensure that he trod carefully and helped her to cover their tracks.
At first, the idea of quickie sex in her own home – and for that matter, and despite his own cheating, her husband's house, too – seemed nasty and uninviting. But as she thought about it, the prospect was not entirely without appeal. If executed carefully, at varying frequencies and on different days of the week, it could actually prove more discreet than visiting a hotel or suchlike.
Its very tawdriness also lent an air of excitement – no more than ten minutes' sexual activity with a lad half her age in her own house immediately before leaving the house with him for work. To do so in a way that would avoid arousing the suspicions of her husband or her neighbours (including Thomas' parents) would be an added thrill. To drive him to his place of work with both of them still enjoying their post-orgasmic inner glow had a seedy feel. For each of them to arrive at their workplaces with this glow and greet colleagues mater-of-factly without them guessing or imagining what they had just been up to... the idea made her head spin and her stomach flutter.
Quickie sex could prove to be varied and maintain his interest, too. And then... her mind worked through a number of possibilities...
Yes, provided that the frequency was not too great, they could go to a hotel or a motel after work. Not too often – for financial reasons as well as for the sake of discretion. But it could be done, say, every ten days or so. They could go somewhere out of town. They could even arrive separately and make their own separate ways home. She worked flexible hours anyway and arrived home any time between four thirty and six thirty. It would have to be carefully arranged, and likely venues checked in advance, but it could be done. They could spend an hour or so together for more relaxed, intimate liaisons. Frantic, passionate quickie sex intermingled with slow sensual sex – it all became more and more enticing.
This morning – it was THE morning when all her planning would be put to the test – she was awake long before the alarm clock sounded. She showered, enjoying the sensuality of the water jetting against her. She made small talk to Keith at breakfast over the background noise of the radio, but she found her eyes drawn repeatedly to the clock. She felt excited and nervous, like a teenager due approaching her first date.
Just after seven thirty Keith gave her a peck on the cheek, stepped out of the house and drove off to work. He had a drive of fifty miles or so to his office and needed to leave early. Even as he was backing the car out of the drive she was dressing into a matching designer bra, panty and suspender set. The panties were brief enough to be sexy without being too tarty. Their outline would show through her skirt and some of her male colleagues would admire their relative scantiness.
She put on her new white cotton blouse with metallic vertical stripes, and eased a pair of sheer black stockings up her legs and fastened them to the suspenders. She stepped into her navy blue waist slip and slid it up, taking care to ensure that the slit in it would line up with the modest slit in the back of her skirt. She similarly stepped into her royal-blue skirt, tugged it up and fastened it. It reached her knees and fitted loosely, but The Plan was for her to change it before work anyway.
She opened the bedroom curtains and brushed her hair. It was now almost seven-fifty. She saw Thomas's father leave his house, get into the car, and set off to work. Her heart was beating more quickly and her stomach fluttered with nervous excitement. She tried to remain calm, concentrating on getting her things read for work. Today of all days she must be well organised and focussed.
