Home alone. The man is out for the night at a conference. At least that’s what he told me. He rang fifteen minutes ago to tell me he’d arrived at the hotel. I wonder whether he took his beautiful secretary, Miss What’s her Name. Or perhaps one of the young floozies from accounts.
Sounds like a soap opera.
Perhaps I should be grateful that he might be pushing it into another woman tonight- if he is. Then I’d have some justification for what I do.
They say that a wife knows when her man is cheating. She feels it in the pit of her stomach, before the evidence begins to come in. Men don’t have that talent.
Am I jealous? No.
Because I know he isn’t doing what I imagine he might be doing.
Would I be jealous if he was?
Yes I would, and mad as a snake…..
….after…. Nice Boobs……
It was almost a week before I ran into the rugby player again, and I knew right away that it was no accident. How could it be? I’d never seeing him before the previous weekend – now I’d run into him again…..?
Label me suspicious.
He was shaven and sober, and there was a faint aroma of expensive aftershave emanating from his impressively solid, not over muscular body.
“Imagine running into you again so soon,” he began, eyes washing very slowly up over my chest and settling finally on my face.
“Yes, imagine that,” I said my eyes making a slow deliberate tour of his body, settling finally on his smiling face. “What are the chances?”
“Pretty good – since I knew exactly where you’d be and when.”
“Are you stalking me?”
“Stalking is illegal. Let’s just say that coincidence had a helping hand.”
“And I think I can guess the name of that helping hand.”
“Don’t be angry with her, she talks in her sleep, especially when she’s had a good seeing to.”
“I’ve herd them banging away at each other every bloody night this week. Doesn’t he have a fucking home to go to?”
“His bed is broken.”
“I can guess how that happened.”
“It’s not what you think, Cherie. A few of the lads were jumping up and down on it, and it snapped the frame.”
“A likely bloody story.”
“Truly, I wouldn’t lie to you.”
“I’ll won’t bother to test you on that. So why are you stalking me?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“As the nose on my face; and the answer is still, no.”
“You are answering the wrong question.”
“I know what the question is. You made it perfectly clear the other night.”
“That was the other night. I’m not feeling quite so horny today.”
“You amaze me. You took my advice then.”
“If you mean did I go and find some pussy at a club? No I didn’t. I did give your other suggestion some serious thought.”
“My other……..? Oh yes. And…..?”
“I discarded that too, in favour of a third option.”
“And what was that?”
“I jumped on one of the other guy’s in the house and we went at it hammer and tongs for about three hours.”
“How very nice for you.”
“The problem was that all the time, I was thinking only of you.”
“Needs must – when there’s a storm brewing at the equator.”
“That makes me sad.”
“Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it, Lady.”
“It’s not the fact that you and your friend buggered each other that makes me sad.”
“It’s the thought that I might have been the cause of you going over to the other side, permanently. They say that once you’ve crossed over you can never go back. Just think how your poor girlfriend is going to feel.”
“You know about her then?”
“Of course – your little spy is also my little spy.”
“You’ve rumbled me. I’m a dirty, rotten, two timing, scum-bag.”
“You said it, mister.”
“In my defence, your honour, I’ve never felt like cheating on her before.”
“Once a cheat – always a cheat.”
“But I’m not entirely to blame; you have to take some of the responsibility.”
“Yes, you put a spell on me. You used all your feminine wiles to entrap my heart and make me want you. Come on, deny it if you dare.”
“Oh, you poor, sad, creature. I had no idea you were so week. If I’d known I would’ve used a little more skunk repellent and less love potion in my perfume.”
“The damage is done now. You’ll just have to marry me.”
“Aren’t we getting a little ahead of ourselves, mister?”
“We haven’t been properly introduced. And how do we know we are compatible?”
“Sexually, you mean?”
“I was thinking more morally, spiritually, intellectually, and yes…… sexually.”
“Well, I’m naturally amoral; spiritually…. I’m agnostic; intellectually…. I’m ubermensch, and sexually I have an eight and a half inch cock with a head like a large mushroom. I have no sexually transmittable diseases, and I expect to pull down somewhere in the region of a hundred and fifty thousand by the time I reach thirty.”
“Yes, eight and a half inches is a goodly size.”
“I was referring to you being agnostic.”
“Oh, so you’re not impressed by my big schlong?”
“First of all I only have your word that it’s that big; secondly, eight and a half inches isn’t particularly monstrous; and third, I don’t really want to carry on any conversation that has your penis as the central theme.”
“We could talk about-“
“My breasts are not a fit subject for discourse, either.”
“I was going to say global warming and the melting polar ice-cap.”
“We could, but first you’d have to raise your eyes and look me in the face.”
“Sorry. You must think I’m a real pervert.”
“No. I just think that you’re a guy, whose time has just run out.”
“Hey, it’s going to be your fault if I end up, drunk, stoned, alone, and living in the gutter.”
“All it’d needed to save me from such a horrible fate, is a little mild of human kindness, and the hope that you’ll entertain coming out with me some time soon.”
“I’ve already told you, I have a boyfriend.”
“There you go, walking all over my feelings. Have you no heart woman?”
“Yes, and it’s already taken. Goodnight.”