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“What to do, what to do,” murmured Mrs. Taylor to herself. It was seven in the evening. She was bored and feeling like she wanted to change that. “My hubby’s away so the cat will play,” she sang to herself. “But what does the cat want to do? Play with a cat…or catch a rat? Yes, that’s it…” and she smiled.
The away hubby wasn’t a problem. He was a private investigator of the sordid sort. He knew that most people calling on his services to catch a cheating spouse were very likely to be in flagrante delicto themselves from time to time. In his experience the one who wanted to get rid of a spouse usually had the most to lose. Often it was the husband but on several occasions he had made a small fortune by turning on his wealthy wife client and presenting her with several ‘money shot’ photos of her she really didn’t want her husband to get hold of. He had no qualms about blackmail as long as the victim had serious qualms about the results of a divorce going the wrong way. While the bulk of his income came from garden variety photographic voyeurism, the extra cash from the double cross was welcome, as was the feeling of really screwing someone over.
Mrs. Taylor and her husband had a working marriage. She occasionally put herself out as bait to entrap a wayward husband, either at the behest of her husband on a job or simply for a little extra cash of her own choosing. She accepted both straight forward cash for sex and straightforward cash for silence. Mr. Taylor was intelligent enough to only work far from home, so she sometimes used these affairs of the heart to amuse herself while he was gone. Mrs. Taylor was also intelligent enough not to play in her own backyard.
She knew he was doing the same, often getting sexual favour as part of his blackmail on the occasional wife. It was no secret, as they enjoyed telling each other about their underhanded exploits. They were both very good at the exploits and the telling.
They had a good life together. While she never fooled herself into thinking she was in love with her man, she was fond of him; fond of his body, his sexual appetites and especially fond of his devious mind. She was not certain if her husband truly loved her and was unconcerned. They had the perfect life together in her opinion. They were together just enough of the time and apart just enough of the time. She knew he adored her just slim enough, tall body, her smaller but adolescently firm breasts, her attractive face and her equally devious mind.
“Play the cat, catch a rat…” She had already come up with a plan. Money was good at the time, so this evening was going to be just for fun. She was feeling particularly hungry in the sexual sense and thought, “Maybe I’ll do more than just catch and play with a rat. Decisions, decisions…” She always had a travel case ready to go, containing various essentials for the games she played. All she needed to do was pack an overnight bag of suitable attire, find a hotel room in the nearby bigger city (she was always careful not to stay at the same hotel too many times in any given year), get in her car and go. On the way, as the car quietly purred down the highway, she put in her CD of Mozart’s Don Giovanni, her favourite opera of seduction and betrayal. She didn’t know Italian but she knew the story.
Arriving at the hotel and parking in the underground, she went up to her mid-range priced room and poured herself some cognac that she had brought along. Sipping the drink, feeling the warmth ooze out into her body, she thought about her location. She was about a mile away from a bar that she thought would do. A bar for the older crowd, the business people who worked in the area’s several blocks of office buildings. Home to some of the business movers and shakers; in other words…rats. She stepped into the shower, shampooed her short black hair, soaped her body and rinsed off, all the while whistling an aria from the opera.
Getting picked up was so much easier if she looked like she wanted to get picked up. Her attitude she didn’t have to worry about. Forest green matching silk panties and bra, sheer black stockings and one of her favourite black party dresses. It hugged her figure while showing only enough of her breasts to look enticing but not skanky. She was after a middle aged business man, not a college jock. Down her waist it followed her figure perfectly and gave her ass the look of two firm feminine globes before ending at mid thigh. A pair of expensive black high heeled open toed shoes and…what for jewellery…yes, pearls. Simple, elegant pearl earrings, a matching pearl necklace which was followed by an engagement ring made up her choice of jewellery.
With her hair dry, she put on a very expensive human hair, long black wig that was taken for real by all but the experts and she was unlikely to be done in by one tonight. Perfume, perfume…yes, with her skin chemistry she had never gone wrong with good old Chanel No.5. A touch with the applicator to her inner wrists and her cleavage, a careful combing out of her wig and she was set. ataşehir escort bayan Putting on a tailored jacket to make her look like a businesswoman out on the town and taking her “night out” black purse, she went down to the lobby and stepped into a cab.
Five minutes later she was stepping out of the cab and into the Bull Pen bar. Not a western themed placed, but a place for business people who are feeling good about their day. She walked in calmly and with a confident smile, took a seat at the bar that put her one empty seat away from a guy on both sides. ‘Perfect,’ she thought. ‘Now they can go Mano a Mano if they want.’
In response to the bartenders request for her order, she asked for another glass of cognac. Glancing behind the bar at the wall of bottles she said, “Hennessy XO will be fine.” The bartender held up one finger, then two. She was aware of two eyes at either side looking intently as she discretely flashed two fingers back. The bartender smiled and poured the golden liquor into a snifter, first one measure, then another. Giving Mrs. Taylor a quick wink, her poured a bit extra and handed her the glass. She took it and gave it a slight lift in his direction, then took a generous sip. Show time, she thought. She let the liquor stay in her mouth, closed her eyes, sensuously inhaled over it and then let it go down slowly while she let her chest and shoulders relax. Opening her eyes, she murmured, “Exquisite… I’ve been waiting for this all day.”
She had been sitting at the bar for less than sixty seconds but she knew she was attracting stares. The man on her left, who had appeared at her first glance to be a decent looking guy, fit and well dressed, leaned over and said,” As much as I’d like to stay and buy you another one, I do have to go.”
With that he stood up, handed the bartender a twenty and said, “That cognac is on me.” Giving Mrs. Taylor a warm smile he said,” Enjoy,” and he managed to say it like he meant it. Mrs. Taylor just lifted her glass to him in salute and smiled. The man gave the guy on her right a quick but neutral glance and walked away.
The bartender pretended to be busy while Mrs. Taylor turned part way around and gave the bar a once over. It was now about nine in the evening and the place was only about one quarter full. There were a few tables with a couple of guys giving her the “join us” look but Mrs. Taylor instead gave the guy on her right a casual smile. “Hi, I’m Linda, and you are…?” as she held out her hand.
He was about fifty by her guess. He was in a suit that had seen better days and his shirt looked like it had been in the wash too many times. He was working on a middle aged spread and generally gave the impression of middle management and experienced at it. He was also wearing a wedding ring. He was looking a bit nervous and pleasantly surprised at the same time. “Hi there yourself, I’m Ken…but my friends all call me Clutch.” He paused, as if a bit embarrassed. “I…I used to pitch. I was pretty good as a finisher…so…Clutch.”
Mrs. Taylor smiled warmly and said, “I think that’s a great nickname.” She patted the seat beside her and he slid over. As he did, Mrs. Taylor took off her jacket, giving a little extra to ‘The Thrusting of the Breasts’ and the bartended casually took it and hung it up behind the end of the bar.
“I’m here in town on business,” she lied. “And did I have a rough day. My boss is adamant that I complete this deal and the client is being so…so…anal. Going over each word, trying to get this done for less than I’ve put into it, it’s been so…frustrating.” She gave him her “little helpless me” look and then took a very generous hit of the cognac. With slightly misted eyes and pretending not to be used to the stuff she said, “But I did it. It took all day but it’s done, in the bag and I’m celebrating!”
Clutch smiled and said, “Congratulations! Good for you. Just what is it you do?”
“Oh, nothing special,” she said with a casual nod of her head. “I represent a firm of business consultants…problem solvers…not me…I just go out and get an idea of what’s happening and try to work out a contract for the firms services as…fixer uppers.” She looked at him in the eyes and gave him a “so there” smile. She made a point of looking at her engagement ring, and then asked, “And you, what are you doing?”
“Oh…nothing special…I work just around the corner…at an insurance firm…I’m the contract insurance guy…making sure both sides have adequate coverage…if something goes wrong…I was working late today…had dinner with a client and thought I’d stop in here before I…went home.” He gave her a wistful smile as if acknowledging he wasn’t in her league.
‘Half way there, Mrs. Taylor…half way there,’ she said silently.
Mrs. Taylor was well practised in the art of deception. She led Clutch in a general banter of small talk, all the while sipping her cognac a little faster than might be appropriate. She slowly began to appear to be loosening up as the liquor took escort kadıöy hold. As the minutes went by she spent more time looking Clutch directly in his eyes, smiling more and giving him the unmistakable impression that she was definitely ‘out of town’.
Mrs. Taylor knew that her non-verbal message was getting through. After telling a silly sexual joke, she tossed back the remaining cognac and said, “Clutch, let’s get another drink and go sit at a booth. It’ll be more comfortable and …private.”
His eyes gave away his surprise as he said, “Sure…yeah…bartender, another one for the two of us.” He fumbled for his wallet and Mrs. Taylor let him. Then with drinks in hand they went to the back and settled into a darken booth.
“Say, Linda…I couldn’t help noticing your ring…lucky guy…you’re quite the catch.” He immediately blushed at his possible faux pas. Mrs. Taylor smiled inwardly as he tossed out the obvious but unspoken question, ‘Any chance you will cheat on your fiancé?’
She gave him a reassuring touch on his forearm. “That’s quite alright, Clutch. I like a guy who speaks his mind. And thank you. But I’m not so sure I’m a lucky girl…” She looked down and gave a slight sigh.
“I don’t understand…is there…a problem?” asked Clutch giving her his best ‘I’m here for you’ look.
‘Show time, part two’, thought Mrs. Taylor.
“I’m…I’m…not sure my fiancé…is…committed to me…in fact, I’m pretty sure he isn’t…this is so embarrassing…” She took a generous swallow as if trying to steady her nerves.
“Are you sure,” Clutch asked. “I mean…you’re so…so beautiful…and successful…why would a guy…?” His voice trailed off.
“Oh, I’m sure. At least I think I am,” Mrs. Taylor said with an inner smile. “My friend…my best friend…told me…she has seen him with another girl…when I’m away on business. And I called him tonight earlier…at his place…he wasn’t home…and he seldom is when…I’m gone. I really shouldn’t be burdening you like this, I’m sorry.”
Clutch immediately said, “Oh no, it’s okay…it’s good to talk…about things. I just wish there was something I could do for you…beat the stupid out of the guy or something.” Mrs. Taylor noticed a definite improvement in his sense of self. Good.
“Well,” she said, “I’m going to enjoy this drink, my success today and your company.” She gave Clutch her “I’m going to be okay” smile and took another large hit of the cognac. “Goodness, if I keep this up…I’m going to get tipsy…but I don’t care!” She straightened out her shoulders and said, “If I’m not good enough for him…well…take this, you jerk!” and she slid off her ring, slipped it into her purse and raised her glass to Clutch. “To freedom!” and tossed back the remaining liquor, allowed her self to cough and make a show of squeezing her eyes shut. “So, Clutch, how’s your love life?”
“Linda, I think you’d better slow down. Two doubles and you’re already tipsy.”
“So what?” she asked. “I’m going to go back home, have it out with the jerk and I might as well start the party right now. So, how’s your love life?”
Clutch looked a bit nervous. Linda put out her hand over his and said, “It’s not like we’re ever going to meet again…besides, you said it’s good to talk.”
Clutch shook his head slightly, then looked at Mrs. Taylor and said, “Well…to tell you the truth…not so good.” He paused and Mrs. Taylor remained silent. “The wife and I…married twenty years last summer…and it just doesn’t seem…like it was…hard to explain, really…kind of like…just going through the motions.” He paused again. Mrs. Taylor just nodded her head, encouraging him to go on.
“Jeez…now I can’t believe I’m telling you this…” He looked at her in her eyes and Mrs. Taylor gave him her best ‘I’m here for you’ smile as she gently squeezed his hand. “She won’t talk about it…maybe its menopause…we sleep together but that’s…well, that’s it. Look at me. Now I’m so embarrassed.”
Mrs. Taylor knew the answer to her next question would tell the tale. “Okay for one more, Clutch?” as she held up her empty glass. He looked at her for only a few seconds and made his decision.
“Why not?” He turned to the bar, caught the bartender’s eye and signalled another round, then tossed back the last of his drink.
“Well, Clutch, my new friend…here’s to us…” she said dramatically, after the drinks arrived. They clinked the glasses together and grinned at each other like two high school students who had snuck away from the dance. Mrs. Taylor sat closer and let her thigh touch his. If he was upset by that, he didn’t show it. In fact her thigh against his felt like warmth and he felt a stirring in his groin. He was starting to think that for the first time in twenty years he was going to get lucky. Mrs. Taylor put her glass on the table, squeezed her arms to her sides with her hands in front, accentuating her breasts and said, “You know, starting over isn’t as bad as I thought it would be. Thank you, Clutch.”
“Oh, maltepe escort don’t thank me…I’m just…”
“No,” she said in a lowered voice as she let her hands drift to his thigh, “I mean it. I came in here tonight feeling…unwanted…and you’re making me feel so much better.”
He let his hand go to her thigh and said, “You know Linda, I’m feeling better as well and…” He paused as he felt her hand move up his thigh until it was barely inches from his package. Mrs. Taylor could feel that she was getting the desired result. She could feel his groin tighten and as she kept her hand there, his growing erection reached out under his pants and touched her. She felt his hand go up her thigh and she casually reached down to lift her dress hem slightly, inviting him further. His eyes were wide and uncertain but he continued until she felt his fingers move almost to her panty.
She looked at him with her best sincerity smile and gave her head a barely perceptible nod ‘yes’ and slightly parted her legs. With that, he moved slowly again until his fingers were cupping her vulva.
The expression on his face was astonishing, as if he was having serious trouble believing this was happening. Mrs. Taylor expertly kept her face calm as she gave a blissful sigh and closed her eyes. She moved her hand slightly to move her fingers over his erection. ‘Not bad’, she thought. ‘I’m sure I can get it bigger.’ She opened her eyes and gazed into his. “Show me where you work,” she whispered.
He hesitated for only a second. “Yes,” he managed to get out in a husky voice. “But…people here…”
“It’s okay,” Mrs. Taylor whispered. “You get up, say good-bye and leave. I’ll follow in ten minutes.”
“Okay…good idea…” He tossed back his drink like he was drinking his courage and stood up. “Well, it’s been nice meeting you,” in a voice a bit louder than necessary. “I hope your…meeting goes well tomorrow. Good night.” Mrs. Taylor watched as he fumbled to discreetly try and hide his obvious bulge.
“Yes, It’s been good meeting you,” she said with a warm but simple smile. Then in a conspiratorial whisper, she added, “Clutch, you’ve got me so…turned…on.”
Clutch realized he hadn’t quite got his plan together and blushed deeply. Also in a whisper he said, “Go out the door and go left. At the end of the block, turn left and go down two blocks. I’ll be waiting.”
“Good night then,” Mrs. Taylor said in her normal voice. Clutch was so nervous he could hardly stop shaking.
Mrs. Taylor was reasonably sure he would be waiting. She slowly sipped her cognac and wondered how she was going to play this guy. ‘I’ll just have to see how this goes,’ she said to herself. She reached into her purse, got the ring and slipped it back on. As she sat quietly waiting, a guy from the front of the bar gave her a looking over, got up and headed her way. He gave her the usual “I’m vaguely interested” smile and asked, “All alone now? I thought that guy would never leave.”
Mrs. Taylor gave him a polite “no” smile and said, “I really have to be going now. Big day tomorrow…but thank you anyway.”
She walked up to the bar, was handed her jacket and she passed a twenty to the bartender. “I have to give someone something,” and putting on her jacket, gave the man a knowing smile which he was professional enough not to give back.
Turning the corner, Mrs. Taylor could see Clutch by the streetlight, pacing back and forth two blocks down. She walked towards him with just a slightly exaggerated roll of her hips and watched as his eyes drank her in like she was cool water on a desert island. Clutch must have been very nervous because he moved well away from the light and tried to blend into the darkness of the shadows. ‘My, my’ thought Mrs. Taylor. ‘This is going to be fun.’
On reaching Clutch, she took him in her arms and putting one leg up and around him, gave him a passionate kiss on his mouth. He held still but he body tensed. “Not here,” he croaked.
Mrs. Taylor ran her hand over his still enlarged penis and said, “Okay.” He looked around as if he was a spy and motioned to the building front door. Fumbling with his keys, he managed to unlock it and almost pulled her inside. Mrs. Taylor just let him have his anxieties and gave him another kiss, this time taking his hand and holding it to her breast.
He gulped and managed to say, “Upstairs…elevator…over here.” He punched the elevator button like he was being chased by the Hounds of Hell. Mrs. Taylor could almost hear him thinking, ‘Come on…come on…’
In the elevator, Mrs. Taylor clamped her mouth over his and massaged his penis. His hand flew to her dress and under, than went straight for her labia, stroking his finger up and down. Mrs. Taylor gave him a deep moan and let her head go back. He attacked her neck with his mouth and for a second, she was worried about an adolescent hickey. The elevator stopped and as the door opened, he took her hand and led her down the darkened hallway, stopping in front of a set of glass double doors with ‘Craigleigh and Fisher-Insurance Brokers’ on the door in gold paint. Again, he fumbled with the keys and finally got one door open. Mrs. Taylor stepped in feigning lust and closed the door, locking it. “Clutch…take me…take me now…I’m so hot for you…”
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