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Girls Just Want To Have Fun - Day 2 Ch 15
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Thursday - Chapter 15
©Virginia Alison, ©Keith David, ©Tiffany St David, ©Lucy Dee Blake

Tiffany
I run back downstairs, and get things ready for a romantic evening with my husband.  Lighting candles, vanilla, cinnamon, I place them strategically in both the living room and the bedroom - sensual scents that I've always loved.  I get everything else ready, a little erotic thrill coursing through me as I anticipate the opening of the front door.  Even after multiple orgasms with Lucy, my body is ready for more…I’ve missed Tom so much in bed, and I find my mind drifting back to happier times with him when he brought me to the same heights I had experienced with Lu, and beyond….

I’m sitting nervously on the couch when I hear Tom’s key in the front door.  Taking a deep breath, I get to my feet.  He walks into the living room and comes to an abrupt stop when he sees me standing in the candlelight.  He appears subdued, not quite meeting my eyes, and I wonder if Rosie has talked to him, and what she has said.  I don’t think he’s been drinking, which is a nice change, but the odd thing is that his clothing appears to be quite rumpled.  Suspicion flares through me as I walk toward him, the suit I’m wearing draping over my hips and breasts, the black camisole revealing the shadows between my breasts.  As I get close to him I swear I can smell the same perfume on him that I smelled the night before, something very, very distinctive that I don’t wear.  I always wear the same expensive and very exclusive perfume that Tom buys me from France, and that is not what I smell on his clothing as I draw closer to him.

“Er, hi, Tiff,” he says softly, his eyes finally meeting mine, and his expression for some reason seems shadowed with sadness.  “You look pretty tonight.”  

I arch an eyebrow at him and he flushes, his lashes falling over his intense blue eyes.  I walk right up to him and stand in front of him, hands at my sides, looking at him, wondering why he has come home to me smelling of another woman.  I feel a wave of anguish roll over me at the thought that he has been with someone else; he is displaying obvious signs of guilt, and a small tear escapes my eye and slides down my cheek as I look at him.  I note other signs….the skin of his neck is slightly reddened and he appears to be trembling.   I bite my lip…he’s looking at me intently now, a flush still staining his cheeks.  I lift one hand and let it fall back limply to my side.

“Why?” I manage to get out through a throat suddenly gone dry.

Tom
“Tiff…”

I start, but my words trail off. How can I begin to tell her what I’ve done, what has been done to me? I already see the pain on her face. There is no way to hide this, from the look in her eyes she knows something, but apparently was not in on this whole thing. Somehow, the explanation would have been easier if she was.

Tiffany
Tom opens his mouth to speak but only one word comes out – my name, spoken quite softly. I wait for him to continue, expecting the same old lame excuses of the past to come tumbling from his lips…excuses I am so tired of. They do not, though. It looks as if he wants to say more, but he cannot. I wonder if it is out of shame, or perhaps guilt? Perhaps it is because I have finally caught him out? In the back of my mind I remember my friend Joni insisting months ago that she was sure she had seen him and Davey go into the strip joint down from the dealership…something he hotly denied when I asked him about it. A shudder runs through me as I face him. I run the gamut of emotions in a few seconds from sorrow to rage and back again, unable to hide what I am feeling. I feel more tears well up, wondering what he is going to tell me next, steeling myself for the worst.

Tom
She is staring dumbfounded, hurt, crying and demanding an explanation as I try to look into her eyes, but I am speechless. I reach for her with open arms and pull her tightly into my embrace. One hand rests on the back of her head pulling her into my chest, the other pulling her whole body into mine. She is tense and resists my touch, the only words that come are,
“I’m sorry, so, so, sorry Tiffany. Please give me a chance to make it up to you and I will try to explain.”

I pull back and take her face in my hands. Wiping away her tears with my thumbs, I kiss her lips softly and tenderly. The pain borne on her face is like a needle stabbing me in my heart and I don’t know if I can take all this emotion on top of what has already happened to me today. But then the words echo in my mind once again, ‘…your new life starts here,’ and I know I must face this. I just can’t do it covered in others’ cum and perfume. I need to clean up and get a bite of food before starting this conversation.

“Tiffany, I have so much I need to say. Can you give me 10 minutes to take a shower then we can talk? I’ll meet you in the bed room?”

Tiffany
At his next words, my mind shrieks at me. Explain WHAT? A cold feeling settles in my belly as I wait for him to continue, standing there stiffly, little more than a doll of flesh and bone in what I used to think of as the shelter of his arms. Tom pulls away, wipes away my tears and kisses me on the lips, nothing sexual, but not just a casual peck either. There is a tenderness there I have not experienced in a long time and I look at him, wondering. Is this his way of trying to soften me up before he drops the big one on me? I know he has been with another woman, it is written all over his face along with the physical signs and smells of betrayal. Betrayal. I feel myself flush as my mind flashes back to the afternoon Lucy and I just spent together in her bed. Guilt washes through me and I stare at him numbly, bracing myself for what will come next. Confessions, recriminations, what else could follow? Does he know about Lu and me, I wonder as fresh guilt floods over me.

Tom
Sniffling she nods her head and I kiss her softly on her forehead. Running through the kitchen, I grab a banana and some peanuts which I wolf down on the way to the bathroom. Standing in front of the mirror, I get the first look at myself and I am shocked. I look truly terrible. A cum stain on my pants, hair twisted and out of place, a red ring around my neck from the rope matched the rings on my wrists from the cuffs. I cannot imagine what Tiffany must be thinking I had done.

The warm water washes over my face and down my body as I try to scrub away the events of the last day, but they’re stained permanently on me. The red welts are still visible on my ass and back from the whip Lucy used and parts of my body are sore that should never be sore, but I clean up as best I can, as I try to think what or how to tell Tiffany.  Towelling off, I spray on some cologne and open the door to the bedroom. The candles light the room with a soft glow and sweet fragrance and Tiffany sits so beautiful on the bed waiting for me. The time is now, ‘…your new life starts here.’

Tiffany
I walk around the living room, slowly blowing out the scented candles I had placed there earlier, having anticipated a romantic evening with my husband. My heart is breaking and fresh tears fall onto the front of my suit, staining the fabric a darker red, almost purple.  With a heavy step, I walk up the stairs into the bedroom and sit on the edge of the bed, not bothering to blow out the candles on the dresser.  Somehow I feel the soft lighting will be kinder on me than the harsher light of the lamps.  If I am to hear news I suspect is devastating, I can use the darkness to hide some of my pain.  The bottle of champagne and fluted glasses I placed there earlier are forgotten beside the candles as I stare miserably at my reflection in the mirror, waiting for Tom to finish his shower so that we can “talk”.  My hair has come adrift from its loose knot, and is curling around my cheeks, my eyes dark smudges in the dim, scented candlelight.  The only brightness comes from my cranberry-glossed lips, trembling with pent-up pain, and fear.  I kick off my shoes and tuck my legs beneath me on the bed, uncaring that my skirt hikes halfway up my thighs.  What does it matter now that the love of my life has found another woman?

Tom
I smile half heartedly as I sit down next to her on the bed. Pain, worry, anger and probably a few more emotions I don’t recognize written on her face as she stares silently waiting for me to start. This is going to be difficult, but the more I thought about it I became sure the only thing I could do is tell the truth.

“Tiffany, I’ve done something terrible wrong, but hear me out please.”

Defensively her arms cross tightly across her breasts as she sits up straight and pulls just slightly away from me. I reach out, placing one hand lightly on her knee. Not in a sexual way, I just needed to touch her. I begin,

“It all started last night…”

And I told her almost the whole thing. I told her about the crazy bitch and how to use the word ‘seduce’ would be putting it mildly. I went on about the pictures, the strip club, and what happened at the dealership. There were only two things I partially left out of the story. I told her about being taken to ‘someone’s’ home and everything that went on except the fact that the ‘someone’ was Lucy. I also left out the last part about being ass raped by the redheaded bitch.

I simply could not bring myself to talk about the last part.

I left Lucy out of this for a number of reasons. First, there was clearly something going on and I had not put all the pieces together yet. My first guess based on Tiffany’s reaction was that she was not in on all of this. If in the end this scheme was devised to break us up and as I suspect she would be leaving me after all this, Tiffany would need her best friend. I would leave it to Lucy to confess this part to her because it was not me who picked her.

The second reason I didn’t mention Lucy was pretty simple. This story was pretty farfetched already. If I was right that Tiffany didn’t know anything about it and I said her best friend was in on it, she would likely think this whole thing was just another of my made up stories.

As I related the story to Tiffany, she sat nearly motionless and silent through the entire telling. I noticed on a few occasions a faraway look as her eyes darted around the room apparently searching for answers. Beyond that, she watched me intently throughout. The two things I did that were unlike any conversation we had in the last few years: my hand remained on her knee and I took full responsibility for my actions.

I didn’t try to blame the redhead; although I was convinced this was not a random act. I accepted my part in what happened. As I finished the story, I took a deep breath, squeezed her knee lightly with my hand and said,

“Tiffany, I don’t want to lose you. I want things to change and I have learned my lesson. Can I make this up to you?”

And with those words, I stopped talking and started feeling even worse for not only what I had done, but now the pain I was sure I had caused my beautiful wife. The hands of time stopped for me as I waited for her to respond.

Tiffany
Damn that Rosie! I KNEW that bitch’s perfume was familiar!   I sit and listen to him tell me about having sex with her at the dealership, and then with another woman and then Rosie herself again at the other woman’s home. He does not leave out the fact that he was tied up, blindfolded, treated like an animal.  

My blood is up as he finishes his sorry tale and although I have been trying to cloak my emotions I know that he has read them in my expression. My thoughts are racing.  How could this have happened?  I feel as if Lucy has betrayed me…she seduced me while Rosie was out seducing my husband…not only seducing him but degrading him….and then once I left Lu’s place they must have brought him back there to teach him a lesson.  Oh my God.  I feel sick to my stomach as Tom finishes, and gently squeezes my knee with his hand.

My first reaction is to jump to my feet and I do…the room is suddenly too warm and I can feel my face flush. I undo the buttons on my jacket to let air in over my breasts, all too aware of Tom’s eyes on me.  I clench my fists and I see him flinch, but my anger is not directed toward him.  It seems that we have both been victims in Rosie’s unholy game and I, too, have a confession to make….

Dropping to my knees in front of Tom, I place my head on his thigh and look up at him.  He reaches out a hand and strokes my hair.

“Tom, there’s something I need to tell you, too…” and I go on to tell him about my afternoon with Lucy.  As I finish, tears are rolling down my cheeks and as he did earlier he reaches out and gently brushes them away with his thumb.  “I’m so sorry, baby,” I whisper.  “Rosie used both of us to get a point across about our marriage.  I think – I think that Lucy was the other woman!” I blurt out.  An expression crosses behind his eyes and I wonder if he knew this all along but didn’t mention it because he was afraid that it might affect my relationship with someone who has been my best friend for years. I’m not sure myself how I feel about all of this. He reaches down and pulls me closer to him, my arms go around him and he kisses me softly on the lips…for the first time in what seems like years I feel the love in his soul as the kiss deepens, his fists tangle in my hair and we devour each other’s mouths like animals in heat.  The towel around his hips has slid up his thighs now, and I can feel the hard press of his cock against my stomach.  After what I’ve heard about him fucking other women I should be repulsed, but I’m not…heat flashes through me, causing my nipples to pucker and  wetness to  pool between my thighs as I break the kiss, breathless, and look up at him, waiting to see what he will do or say next.  

I’m thinking of the items I placed on the dresser earlier - the champagne, the platter of fruit and chocolate, the massage oil - wondering if he noticed them earlier....