Authors: Shelly Pratt
You know, six months in and I’m beginning to act like a pro. I’m manipulative, sneaky and downright slutty. The thrill of the chase sees me searching for men to bed away from Harold’s dinner parties. In a nutshell, I have become a consumer of indulgence. If I am not on the prowl
then I am home at our estate plotting and planning the next lucky suitor. If I was honest with myself, I would almost say this alternate lifestyle of mine had become a bit of an addiction.
I had the good fortune of participating in a ménage a trois with the gardener and his assistant one afternoon while Harold was out playing chess at the old men’s club downtown. Three orgasms later and I was blissfully hooked. After that, I always made sure to schedule them on the days Harold was out with his stiff friends from work.
Just when I couldn’t imagine my sex life getting any better, I happened upon Graham. Not normally my type, but these days I was willing to give anything a go. Or should I say - anyone. I was exiting Harrods after a day of shopping when the heavens opened up and drenched me from head to toe. I ran with purpose to the only taxi I could spy on the street. Luckily for me, a delectable man had the same idea.
We reached for the door handle at the same time, his hand instantly sending shock waves through me. One look into his mischievous grey blue eyes and I knew he had a kinky streak. We opted to share the taxi to his hotel where he assured me I could dry my clothes before I headed for home. I agreed, knowing full well what I was getting myself into. What I wasn’t expecting was his penchant for anal sex while he rubbed my clitoris with his fingers. My succession of mind blowing orgasms made me one happy customer, although I was sure visiting the loo would be an inconvenience for the days following. I was sure something of
that
size wasn’t meant to go anywhere near
that
hole.
I was born again and up for anything. Spank me, lick me, suck me and fuck me. I was like a horny teenager for the first time.
Harold, meanwhile, continues with his life. He sits at the breakfast table doing his crossword puzzles, completely oblivious to the fact that I am screwing anything that walks. If he only knew …
I find myself increasingly incredulous that he could be so blind to the fact that I am having all these extramarital affairs. His needs from me seem to be very minimal, and I oblige him every time he approaches me for sex. I wouldn’t want to give him reason to suspect anything was amiss in our relationship. The prenuptial agreement we have assures him that I will stay, for if I leave him for another, I get nothing. In the past that wouldn’t have bothered me in the slightest. Earning a living would have given me something to do. But since I have become accustomed to my new lifestyle, I wasn’t about to give it up for quids.
I am thrilled about this evening. Harold has bought me a sexy gold dress that shimmers beautifully in the light. Went and Worth are putting on a Masquerade ball to raise money for a local charity. It is being held in the old Faux Triffall Theatre building near St James Park on Stable Yard Road.
I have had an exquisite mask made just for this event. Excited would be an understatement. Tonight in particular should be interesting. When quizzing Harold on the guest list, he happened to drop Jake’s name. When pressed further (innocently of course) I was informed that Jake arrived yesterday from Paris. He had been representing the US financial advisors in the French capital. He had flown into London’s Gatwick Airport just for this event.
A sneaking suspicion told me he was interested in more than just the masquerade ball.
I washed, shaved, plucked and perfumed my entire body. After the sex we had last time he was in town, I knew it wouldn’t be long before my loins were quivering in delight.
Harold decided to drive us this evening. We left our estate at seven p
.m., making the entire twenty minute drive in silence. Approaching the street the theatre was located on I felt a sliver of delight ripple through my belly.
The theatre is an open air set up, with trellis gazebos set up in the park to accommodate seating. Tonight they had a symphony orchestra entertaining guests from the stage. All the twinkling lights about the venue gave the appearance of a million fireflies dancing about in the darkness. It was very romantic if you were that way inclined.
I was not. I wasn’t here to be romanced; I was here to be played with.
Harold insisted I walk with him a moment. We were doing the couple’s duty first and welcoming clients and making introductions to the hosts of the fundraiser. I smiled and played my part well, nodding and greeting each person in turn.
Bored, bored, bored.
Not for long though. I caught sight of Jake at the bar. He was drinking a beer and being chatted up by a blonde whose name could very well be Candy. To my disappointment he did seem captivated. No mind. One look at me and he would dismiss her quickly. Harold and I made our way to the next lot of guests and right before introductions were made I managed to catch Jake’s eye.
He nodded at me and raised his glass to toast me. I appraised him with a smile, but it did not hold his attention. He went back to chatting with Barbie’s sister.
This rebuff did nothing to douse the flames of my fire. I was intent on him fulfilling my needs tonight and I would be damned if some two-bit blonde was going to take my place. Ooooh – the green eyed monster! I hadn’t seen her in a while. This man was not mine to stake a claim to but I was damn well going to give it my best shot.
I shadowed his movements all evening. While Harold worked the crowd, got merry and found company of his own, I tried desperately to win back the favor of Mr. Fuckable. But blondie wasn’t having a bar of it. She obviously wasn’t with anyone and could openly sink her claws into my man. Did I just say my man? Well, I felt I had rights, you know? She pawed at his chest and whispered in his ear. There was a lot of giggling going on and huge dimply smiles on his behalf. I wanted to puke. Watching them interact made me feel cross. I felt like an idiot.
Having effectively spent my entire evening on a wasted venture left it too late in the night to try and hook up with anyone else. I watched on enviously, their body language a little like a train wreck. Not entirely pleasant to look at and yet at the same time I just couldn’t look away. Ignoring the beautiful music being played, I got drunk in the corner and sulked. This was not how my evening was supposed to turn out.
I almost got up and stamped my foot when Jake led the blonde towards the exit. My eyes followed every single step they took until they were well from sight.
The voice at my shoulder startled me enough to spill my drink and shake me from my reverie.
‘
Come on darling, you couldn’t have thought you were the only one, did you? That you were … special?’ I turned to see Harold lighting a cigarette. He took a deep lungful and then turned to smirk in my direction.
‘I beg your pardon?’ He nodded in the direction Jake had just left and said, ‘You’ve been shooting daggers in Jake’s direction all night. You didn’t seriously think you were the only one he fucked, did you darling?’ His tone wasn’t menacing, but he was definitely taunting me.
‘I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,’ I snapped. I tried to accentuate my best indignant voice.
‘
Oh I think you do. You see, you’re not the only one who is taking advantage of this little wife swap. I mean really, a smart business man like myself, did you really think I am that stupid?’
‘
You knew?’
‘
Knew? Darling, I fucking orchestrated these shenanigans from the very beginning. Being as bored as you are, I’m surprised you didn’t join in years ago.’ He laughs now, as though he finds something funny. My mouth goes dry and I think I’m going to be sick for real.
‘
How could you?’
‘
Don’t play the martyr now Katherine, it doesn’t suit you. Why do you think I married you in the first place? Because you fit a type, it’s that simple. Every man who works our firm regularly indulges in a little wife swapping – why do you think I never come home with you after these shindigs?’ I’m trying to get my head around what he’s saying, but right now I feel like I have just been played – manipulated even. If I am really honest with myself, I’m just angry my husband is smarter than I gave him credit for.
He can sense my deflation and acts accordingly. He playfully clenches a fist and gently jabs it at my jaw; a mock punch that tilts my head ever so slightly.
‘
Chin up darling. It’s not the end of the world. You’ve still got your fancy house and your fancy clothes and Mrs. Jones will still be there on Monday morning to clean for you. Just think; there’ll be plenty more of these little soirees to attend in the future – just the place for you to find another dashing young scoundrel to fuck you senseless until the next time.’
I sat flabbergasted as he ground out his cigarette, downed the rest of his scotch and got up to leave.
‘Where are you going?’ At this stage I wasn’t really sure I wanted to know the answer. He stopped and turned back to face me.
‘
I thought it was obvious darling. I’ve been playing this game much longer than you, and I hate to say it but I’m better at it. See the brunette over there with the willing smile? Well, sorry darling, but she’s waiting for me.’ He turns on his heel once more to take his leave but stops abruptly.
‘
Oh, and Kate?’
‘
Yes?’ My voice squeaks weakly in response.
He reaches in his pocket and comes out with his car keys which he throws in my direction as he winks at me.
‘Don’t wait up.’
I’m going to knock each and every one of those smug bastards off their high and mighty pedestal if it is the last thing I do. I think it’s natural for me to be feeling a little sorry for myself today, but that by no means has left me without a brain that is capable of plotting payback.
Okay, I will admit to the fact that I am outrageously jealous that Harold has taken another woman home with him, but that is purely because some other bitch is pissing on my turf. I am the woman scorned and this is about keeping score. Six months of fucking any willing male that happened to look my way at his work functions means I’m no better than he. But the fact he’s had me hoodwinked is a little like a cold bucket of ice chucked down my drawers when I’m not looking.
The late nights on his part should have told me something, but what I have come to realize lately is that I am a little self-absorbed. No wonder our marriage isn’t working. I am so busy relying on others to make me happy that it has completely escaped my attention that I’m not meeting the needs of my husband.
Not that he seems to give two shits about it. He is obviously happy with his little arrangement. I would perhaps have started to feel completely responsible for the whole thing, had he not started with the snarky comments this morning. He’s finally emerged from the guest bedroom and sits down at the kitchen table with a glass of orange juice and toast. Not a word about last night, just a smirk on his perfectly chiseled face. I feel like smacking it. Hard. But even though things are not right between us, I do know Harold, and violence will not achieve anything. I start with the whole, ‘How dare you’ business, but that isn’t going to get us anywhere either.
He tells me to ‘suck it up, darling’. That just gets my ass hairs up. When he reveals that he only married me so he has someone to pimp out around the office I completely lose it. In the beginning I thought he’d love me just as much as I him. Apparently not. I was intended as a booty call for his top tier colleagues and nothing more. No wonder the pre-nuptials. The prick had been playing the game long before we even met! Well I was damn well going to make the most of it.
Something tells me I’m not going to be able to do it on my own though. If I’m going to succeed with the plans that are formulating in my mind, I’m going to need a little help.
By the time I finish my breakfast, Harold is in his suit and tie and heading for the door. He leaves behind a trail of his scent that is hard to ignore. Funny, but it kind of makes me want him.
He hasn’t changed his aftershave in the time we have been married and it reminds me of our first date. I felt so much younger and carefree then. We had taken a picnic out to the country and settled on the bank of the river. I was seduced. He was a good lover. Back then I would have said capable and experienced. Now I would say downright arrogant. But that attitude is not without its draw card. For some reason I have always secretly liked the bad boy and, now that I have realized he does not just belong to me exclusively, I want to possess him. Not for love, but rather so I can say that I am able in some way still manipulate him to get what I want.
He left knowing that I am still royally ticked off with him, but I have to wonder, where to from here?
I file that thought away for the minute and take myself upstairs to the shower. Our bathroom is lavish and stately – just the way Harold wanted it.
Two of everything of course. His and her sinks, towel racks and showers. I could get lost in this bathroom if I wanted to. Instead I draw a bath and sink deeply with my chocolate mass of curls piled high on my head. The jasmine scented body wash feels deliciously silky against my skin and I start to feel aroused between my thighs.
What I really want to do right now is forget about the drama in my life and float away on a cloud of bliss. So I do. I soap the sponge and rub it up and down the length of my legs, for the moment steering clear of the insides of my thighs. I know I will get there soon enough.
My hand trails languidly to my hips and leaves a trail of bubbles behind as it goes. I am slim and still youthful enough not to have any signs of age showing on my body. Stretch marks have not even surfaced on my skin. Water sloshes over the tub as I move to soap up my stomach and breasts. My nipples contract at my touch, eager to be caressed and knowing exactly what is going to follow. The circular motion of my hand finds its way up my arm and then on towards my neck.
Heat pools on my face, cheeks flushed and radiant pink from the temperature of the water. I know it is not just that though. I’m starting to feel an ache deep in the pit of my belly and it won’t be much longer until I become frantic with desire. It’s at this precise moment that a memory of Jake pops unbidden into my head.
As I remember the length of him thrust up inside of me a tiny moan escapes my lips. I need release from the throbbing of my clitoris and I touch myself with my fingers to try and curb the aching inside my depths. I try not to let my anger at his obvious rejection last night wash over me. I just want to enjoy this moment and remember what it had been like the last time we were together.
He is cheeky and playful – breezy almost.
Carefree and willing to please. His attitude pleases me and I need and want him here with me. But I am alone. The caressing of my labia and inner warmth do nothing to satiate me. I need more but know it is not going to happen here. I will have to leave the warmth of the tub and take this party of one to the bedroom.
Hungry for release, there is no waiting to find my vibrator. I’m sure a quick rub up and down a pillow will douse the flames I have already fanned. To be fair, I will not rub my pussy on my own pillow. Lucky Harold will have my musky smell lingering on his sheets and I giggle as I drag it to the middle of the bed.
Still dripping wet I throw myself on top of it and grasp the edge of the sheets in my hand. I draw my knees up as I lay flat on my belly over the pillow and start to rock back and forth. In my mind’s eye, I see Jake beneath me. His dirty blonde hair frames his face and I picture how his blazing brown eyes bore into mine. Remembering how his breathing quickens when he knows I am about to come makes me grab the pillow with my knees all the tighter. The memory of him is not nearly enough, but it will do. With one last thrust I feel the spasms of my vagina as it struggles for something to cling onto while I orgasm loudly. I flop against the bed, spent from my exertions. I feel a little emotional as I lay here alone.
The vacuum can be heard starting up downstairs and I hope Penny the cleaner was not just witness to the loud cries I was making. The hair that frames my face clings to the perspiration that has beaded there and I decide to have a quick cold shower.
Penny has started on the breakfast dishes as I emerge for the day. She smiles politely but does not let on she has heard me earlier. The telephone on the kitchen bench trills and I reach out to grab it. It’s Harold.
‘Katherine I’ve forgotten my briefcase near the bottom of the stairs. Be a peach and bring it to me at the office.’ I am reluctant as he sounds a little beguiling, but smile in spite of myself and decide I can’t refuse his request. A thought springs to mind, and I think it is the perfect opportunity to start my deception.
‘Of course darling, I shan’t be long.’
He disconnects the call without any further pleasantries. I take the stairs to the upper level one at a time as the grey wool pencil skirt I am wearing only allows a small split in the back.
From my makeup bag I produce my cherry red lipstick and apply it liberally to my full lips. Mascara and a hint of blush finish off my look. I stare at my reflection in the mirror and decide that I need to look a little more whorish if I want to achieve the reaction I am looking for. The panties I’m wearing get relegated to the dirty clothes hamper and I swap the safe, white bra under my see-through blouse for a red lacy number. I am still moist between my legs from my earlier orgasm but I’m still not going to wear any panties. I brush my mane out so it looks luxurious and full. As I smack my lips together I am very pleased with my appearance. Perfect!
Out of the walk-in wardrobe I grab a pair of red stilettos and head for the stairs. My morning is going to be interesting. Very, very interesting.