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Private Affair - Blog Posts
Her boss is tall and handsome and older than her.
She thinks of him when she sees it, when she tries it on in the dressing room, when she buys it for herself and secrets it into her closet at home.
How could she know you would find it?
How could she know what you'd think?
After hours in the office, unavoidable in her glistening rubber sheath, he appears in her office doorway and asks if she's free to grab a drink.
He's met you before.
He's aware that you exist.
He just doesn't care.
How could you know how it would sound, the gentle drops of his pleasure, falling from her lips and landing on taunt rubber stretched across bended knees, how distant she's be when finally she returned home to you?
She never would have imagined it.
But the mind is a mystery, capable of many impossible things.
It was cold in the bedroom as she slipped out of her scrubs. The show was about an hour's drive into the city and she only had a little while to get ready.
A final decision: the black, cheeky panties her husband adored. They were sensible, while the rest of her outfit—a plunging neckline, new stockings, the first night out in a long-coveted pair of shoes—might give one idea, she would know that she had chosen against the most daring options in her drawer. Her husband grew quiet as he saw her dress, but this should have reassured him.
She was thrilled that Clay had asked her to join him at opening night. Her husband enjoyed this sort of thing, but could hardly be expected to make the herculean effort to find such exclusive tickets, so she had resigned herself to catching it later, maybe on a family vacation for an off-Broadway run. Then Clay called, remembering something she had mentioned at the Christmas party, and she jumped at the chance.
Her husband took the news in stride—happy that she was happy—even offering to take her shopping for something special for the occasion. When she settled on the shoes, she kissed him on the cheek and slipped the blue credit card from his wallet.
—
Clay arrived, and, as she finished getting ready, her husband made him a bourbon and soda. It was the first time the two men had met outside of her office's functions, and her husband had thoughtfully asked her what Clay liked to drink so that he could offer a small token. They stood as she entered the room, clearly taken with her.
Clay offered his arm to her as they said goodnight to her husband. Clay watched as she blew her husband a kiss.
—
She always got nervous at black tie events, and sure enough she nearly fell on the first stair. She caught Clay's hand just in time to avoid embarrassment; if she had been wearing her rings, she would have cut his palm. He smiled and, to set her at ease, kept her hand the rest of the way up the stairs to the box and leading her to their seats.
The view was breathtaking, and she took a moment to simply appreciate the person who was showing her such kindness. He wore his finely tailored suit the way another man might a t-shirt and jeans; it was clear that he was, somehow, most comfortable in settings like these. She thought how lucky a girl would be to be shown the town by someone like him. He could have asked anyone to be where she was.
As the first song began, she slipped her hands around his arm and beamed a smile of gratitude toward him. For some reason, it felt more natural to leave her arm hooked in his for the duration, squeezing more tightly as the music swelled and released.
When he returned with drinks after the intermission, he whispered to her about their neighbors in the row ahead, holding her knee as he leaned over. She laughed and buried her grin into his shoulder as the neighbors glanced back in their direction.
"Excuse my friend, here," Clay laughed, "she's just had her first taste of bourbon." She giggled and gave him a playful shove before laying her head back against his shoulder as the lights drew down.
—
"The show was amazing, but now I have a splitting headache," she texted her husband as Clay walked her to the car. Her husband responded quickly, asking if she needed him to come pick her up.
"Don't worry about it. I don't think I have the drive back in me tonight. Clay is going to drop me off at a hotel around the corner, and I can take the train in the morning. See you tomorrow, love."
While Clay drove, she mapped out her next morning. She had an extra set of scrubs and underwear at the office, along with a cosmetic bag. She could text Michelle to bring another pair of shoes.
She slipped out of her dress as she entered the bedroom. She walked to the bed, and, bending at the waist, she realized how cold it was in Clay's apartment.
…which is true, one drink, and then everyone drifted out except…{blushing}…<3 emmie @ le cocu quotidien.
…might be a long wait…{blushing}…<3 emmie @ le cocu quotidien.
…she means it…not that i would know…{blushing}…<3 emmie @ le cocu quotidien.
…without even knowing his name…{blushing}…<3 emmie @ le cocu quotidien.
A New Year and a New Guy
The biggest thing I learned from cheating on my boyfriend with Ryan was to have confidence. I figured out that it is ok to be wanted. It is natural for a woman to feel like she is empowered, and boy did that ever grow in me. Fucking around with Ryan made me stronger, it gave me a power I had never felt before. I felt like I had power over guys, and I loved it.
The week before New Years Eve (not this last one, but the one before) I got invited to a NYE party at the house of a guy in one of my classmates. He is a pretty cool guy, we had worked together on a few things for various classes. He has the same major as me, so we had a bunch of the same classes together. Anyway, he invited me to come hang out at his house for a party, and told me that I should bring my boyfriend along too.
When I was done with class for the day, I called my bf, and told him about the invitation to the party. He seemed lukewarm to the idea, but said he would think about it. I didn’t know why he wouldn’t want to go, because it’s not like we had any other plans anyway. I let the topic go for a day or two, and then on the afternoon of New Year’s Eve, I reminded him of the party, and told him again that I wanted to go. He said no, he didn’t want to go. At first I thought it might be because he had other plans, but when I asked him what he wanted to do instead, he said he just wanted to stay in. Yeah, stay in. Can you believe that? I mean, I was a junior in college, not a 60 year old woman. Who stays in for New Years that doesn’t have kids or something actually important to do the next day?
So, needless to say, that got me kind of angry at him. We had a typical stupid argument that all couples have occasionally, and it ended in me telling him I was going, and in didn’t care if he stayed in. He said he was fine with that. Maybe that was just to argue, maybe he really did want to stay in, I’m not sure. Regardless, I left, went home, and got ready to party.
I made sure I looked good. I wore a really tight pair of black pants and a purple V-neck sweater. I wanted to have fun, I remember looking at myself in the mirror that night, while I was doing my makeup, and I had this thought like “I can do whatever I want. He can’t tell me what to do. He hasn’t caught me yet, I’ll show him. I’m going to get laid tonight.”
So, I went to the party with the full intention of adding to my list of infidelities. It was fun, I felt like I was shopping for guys, or hunting them. I purposely ignored a few texts from my boyfriend. A few hours into the night I had made my decision… If my boyfriend wasn’t going to go to a party with me on New Years, then I would reward the guy that invited me. This was going to be tricky… Remember, he is a classmate, I see him almost every day. He is a decent guy. I didn’t know how he would react. For the purpose of this blog, let’s call him Tyler.
I went up to him as he was messing with his iPod, which was playing the music for the party. I thanked him for the invite, and he told me he was glad I came. I hugged him. Not like a quick friendly hug, but a “I’m really, really glad you invited me” kind of hug. What a rush. I got that evil thrill and feeling that I was being naughty. After the hug, I smiled at him and said “now that’s what I call a hug!” He laughed and agreed. I left it at that for a while, and left him to spend some time talking to a few other classmates he had invited. About 11:30 he saw me and came up to me again, and asked me where my boyfriend was. I pretended I couldn’t hear, because the music was too loud. He asked again, and I made the “can’t hear you” gesture by waving my hand past my ear a few times. He led me down the hall a bit where it was easier with his hand on the small of my back *swoon* and asked again where my boyfriend was. Bingo. This was it, I had him relatively alone and turned up the heat a bit. I answered him “he’s staying home tonight, being lame.” Then I leaned in to whisper in his ear “and I’m a bad girlfriend”. I left him again for a while, but I made sure to keep my eye on him the rest of the night from across the room. When our eyes would meet occasionally, I would give him a sexy little smile, or bite my lower lip, just to look vulnerable and available.
At like 2 am, the party was finally breaking up, and most people had gone home, including all but one of our mutual classmates. Tyler came up and thanked me for coming again, hugged me again and asked me if I wanted him to call me a cab to get me home. I said “nah, I was kinda hoping you might let me stay with you tonight.” Well, shocker - that was all the motivation he needed. He took me to his room and we went at it. Multiple times that night. It was so hot. I felt like I was in control, and I could get what I wanted. And he was good too, so that was a bonus.
I woke up January 1st in the bed of one of my classmates, and added another guy to the list of people I cheated on my boyfriend with.
…not if you wear it while having sex with ryan after you return home…{blushing}…mad, crazy, almost-passed-out-dizzy sex…{double-blush}…‘cause ryan didn’t know about your date with cody…{triple-blush}…<3 emmie @ le cocu quotidien.
btw, he has great taste in lingerie…which gives one pause to wonder…
