He was always coming home late from work, always tired, and never in the mood. It’s not like I expected much, but I did expect something you know? I mean I get it; a day of labouring must be so draining, and he probably just wants to come home and put his feet up for a while. That would be totally fine if he would at least acknowledge my existence.

One time, I got myself all dolled up. I went the whole hog for him; hair dyed platinum blond, makeup, perfume, heels, and a new saucy piece of black lace from one of the fancy shops. I even got myself professionally waxed! It sure did hurt, but my goodness I have never looked so fresh down there.

He didn’t notice a thing…

I never intended to cheat, yet here we are. Every time we catch up I swear to myself that I will end it. Then of course we fuck, and I vow that it will be the last time. I hold out a day or even a week, but inevitably I find myself reaching for my phone and messaging her. Rinse and repeat.

She has become my mistress, and I am a slave to her every whim…

“Do you think they would go for it? I mean, I know men talk the talk, but underneath all that bravado, they really are just scared little boys playing adult,” said Alisa twirling her keys in her fingers.

Suri smiled at her from across the booth and took a sip of her gin and tonic, “We just have to make them think it was their idea. Make them be the ones to bring it up, and when they do, we just push back a little. Play jealous and let them fret over how they will convince us to do it…”