Monday morning my eyes snap open at 6:00. I shower and take care dressing and making myself up, knowing by now what kinds of things Page likes to see me in. I slip into the sexiest piece of lingerie he's given me, a garter set that is reminiscent of bondage gear. Sexy, strappy, with all kinds of extra suspender attachments, and expensive. Agent Provocateur, according to the label. $600, according to the price tag. You like your cheap whores looking quite expensive, I think, bemused.
At precisely 8:00 am, I saunter into the office and immediately sense some excitement. Sexual, yes, partly - but there's more. Page is absolutely bursting to tell me something, so I sit down, crossing my legs so that he gets the faintest glimpse of my underthings. I settle myself in the chair and look at him, waiting for the news. He tells me about getting a promotion, moving to New York, and the opportunity for me to go with him. Then: a proposition. To tell Mark. To reveal my - our - dirty little secret together. A few weeks ago, I'd have been outraged. Scandalized. Today, a new me sits in this office. Sexually liberated. An exemplar of sluttiness. I smile, slowly, resembling something feral and feline when I do. "Should I expect you to arrive at around eight thirty, then?"
+++
Throughout the day, Page fucks me once, with me on my back on his desk, frantically rubbing my clit while pounding into me, his hand shoved in my mouth to keep me from screaming; I suck him off once, me, kneeling below his desk while he chats on the phone with a client, clenching his jaw so hard I swore that he was going to crack a tooth; and he eats my ass and pussy twice, bending me over the desk the first time, spreading my legs wide in his big leather chair the second time, pumping three fingers rhythmically in my ass while his tongue flutters over my clit. I lose count of the number of orgasms he gives me. It's like a reunion of sorts. After two days without one another, we're suddenly like horny teenagers, constantly pawing at each other, unable to get enough.
When 4 pm rolls around, Page tells me to leave early so I can go get the supplies for tonight. I take his offer and head to the nearest adult toy store to buy some simple handcuffs (not something Mark had ever had any interest in), and some new lingerie, nothing too expensive or intense, like what I'm wearing now. Well... what I was wearing. Before he tore it off me. Now it's laying in a crumpled heap in one of the drawers of his desk.
After purchasing the necessary materials, I head straight home to get set up. I shower, making sure to shave and pluck and exfoliate till I'm shiny and luminous, irresistible. I slip into the new lingerie I purchased, a simple bra and panty set from Victoria's Secret in a pretty shade of pink. Something that will seem incredibly scandalous to Mark but still look sexy for Page, if not a bit tame. We'll call it subtle.
It's 5:45 and I know Mark will be home at exactly six. I made a romantic candlelit dinner. Wine is chilled. I put on a robe over my lingerie and wait for him by the door. At 6 pm sharp, he walks through the door, looking as eager and wholesome as a golden retriever when he sees me.
"Wow, Z, you look gorgeous, babe." He says, sincere and sweet, as always.
I look up at him through my lashes and manage to blush a little. "Aw, thanks, Mark. I made you some dinner, and thought you might like some wine after a crazy Monday..."
"You're the best," he says, and I can tell he really means it, the poor bastard.
Once we finish dinner, I decide to broach the topic. Setting up for the part of the evening I look forward to most, when Page joins us. I sigh heavily and look at Mark from across the table, putting my napkin and fork down gingerly. "Mark? I have to... um, I have to talk to you about something," I say, and the sincerity in my voice is so convincing that it even fools me for a second.
Mark instantly looks concerned and stares at me. "Anything. What's wrong, Zoe? Tell me..."
I take a deep breath and say the lines I've been practicing over and over since Page and I came up with them in the office earlier. "Mark, I want to try some new things. In the bedroom. I feel like we're in a rut. We've been married, what, 5 years now? We're too young to be having any issues and there are some things I want to try with you." I nail my lines perfectly, I sound desperate and needy and perfect. Little does he know that handcuffing him to the bed is just about the tamest thing I'll have ever done.
Mark raises an eyebrow, looking bewildered. "Really? Z? I thought... I mean, I thought our... ya know, sex life, was good..." he trails off, unsure of how to continue. He starts again, and I can tell he's sincerely caught off guard. He sighs heavily. "Well...if you really feel that way... I want to make you happy. What kinds... what kinds of things did you, uh, have in mind?" His voice goes unnaturally high and I can see a flush starting to creep up from under his shirt collar.
I smile, relieved that the plan is working. "Oh, well... I sort of stopped by a store earlier. I wanted to see what you thought about... being handcuffed? Ya know, to the bed? By me?" I look up at Mark, all big innocent eyes and pouty lips and he smiles.
"Well, that doesn't seem... so bad." he says, rather lamely. "I think I'd like that, actually. Could you, uh... ya know, give me head?" He asks, his attempt at talking dirty coming off very awkward.
"Of course," I say sweetly. I glance at the clock. It's 7:45 pm. Almost time.
By 8:15 pm, I've got Mark on his back in our king size bed, hands cuffed above him to our headboard. I'm clad in the lingerie I bought, which Mark seemed so overwhelmed by he was left quite speechless. I'm kissing his chest, teasing him gently, but mostly listening for Page - I gave him a spare key with the instructions to let himself in at 8:30.
Almost showtime.
At exactly 8:29, I hear the key in the lock. Every muscle in my body goes rigid and my heart immediately starts thumping. My pussy twitches at the knowledge of Page's presence.
