Friday, December 07, 2007

Passionate affair on demand

The title would have been Thanks Giving Confessions, if I finished it earlier. But it doesn't really matter, it didn't even occurred on the latest Thanks Giving. I remember it every year though.

It was a rare occasion that my wife have a work related meeting. And since we have no where to travel on Thanks Giving, we used the excuse to fly somewhere. We checked in the local top resort hotel, in our adopted home town, which had a very good tourist rate.

Maybe it's the place, or maybe it's the season, I was in the mood. I can still give my wife orgasms and multiple orgasms on occasions, but it has to be at the right time for her, like Saturday night, when she doesn't need to wake up early the next morning. Can you believe that?

Above all, can you have a passionate affair with your wife? I still like to kiss her passionately at times during sex and she would allow me to kiss her on occasions when she was in her pre-orgasm trance. But that's very different from having sex for the first time with someone that you have a crush on or lust after. It's more complicated than that but let's get to the details.

She took the rental car to the meeting. I have no cell phone either. I couldn't do anything but luckily I'm once a local there. So I walked out of the resort hotel, went to the news agency, got the right classified newspaper and called an agency from my hotel room! I was sure I had enough time for that during her meeting. And after the meeting, I was sure she would be more interested in driving to Bond Street or Harvey Nicols, then coming back to have sex. This is what she missed most while I missed the local girls!

I also walked to Thomas Cook with my big dollar bills stashed in the secret luggage compartment. I hid some just in case. The tourist exchange rate was painful but I no longer have bank accounts there, which would have given me the best rate. The guy in Thomas Cook was curious. He asked questions, making sure I was a tourist and had no other choice. The questions that he didn't ask must include why a tourist carry so much cash instead of traveler's check or just credit card?

I pulled it off - a passionate affair of sort. She was Rebecca. It was a right decision to go for an agency for part-timers (claimed) rather than a model agency. She looked so real, like the several young pretty admins in the companies that I worked for, who have crushes on me of some sort, that I didn't know how to proceed as a married man. Even better, she was a real nurse who must had worked at the hospital round the corner. She must be the prettiest among my admins because she had the least makeup on. It took me a few seconds to realize that any makeup that a nurse put up must not fall off easily. It limits a lot that she could put on.

May be it's all an act, making up a nurse fantasy for me. She even subtly showed her nurse badge. I believed her because I didn't ask for a nurse. I was once local so she wouldn't dare to elaborate on the illusion. It just happened that the agent wanted to send me her top girl, who was a nurse. She didn't say it but she must had trouble going off her duties. She said I had to wait an hour but I showed my hesitation. Remember the "meeting"? It would be a classic movie scene if my wife came back while Rebbecca was still naked in bed with me. Throw her and her clothes out of the window? But Rebbecca turned up early after all, fearing that I might call somebody else. That could explain the nurse makeup on her.

Damn. If I believed the agent earlier, I might ask Rebbecca to come in her real uniform! I asked her to wear a short skirt instead. The next best to a school / cheer leader uniform. Instead of sexy legs, she made it cute with a plain Jane sweater top and winter leggings under her overcoat. That wasn't my intentions, but by chance she reminded me of the swarm of cute local school girls who blocked my passage everyday I drove pass the train station. I could imagine Rebbecca wearing that same uniform not long ago. But now she was mature enough to have a passionate affair with.

The amount of toiletries, makeups and other things in the bathroom must be obvious that I was with someone. Even though I tried a little to cover up the obvious - pushing things a little bit aside and cover others with a towel. I just didn't want anybody to be alarmed that my wife might come back anytime. But I couldn't do much to hide because if I put everything away, I could not put them back like it was.

Rebbecca was like the several admins, who couldn't even imagine that I was married. I thought admins would check personal files the first thing they have interest on someone. But obviously they didn't. It seemed that they never thought about that. Rebbecca was no different. Obviously no guy can have that much things in the bathroom. She went into the bathroom alone to freshen up when she arrived. If she cared to look just a little at the little bottles, they were all female makeup or toiletries.

What did she do? She kept asking me out, in a way. It was late morning or early afternoon. She kept asking me what I would be doing in the evenings. I wasn't a smart guy when it comes to dating. That I have a wife complicated things. Since I couldn't find the right words, she rounded up by saying that I must had a lot of old friends to see. I could only say yes. But after a while she asked again. It's obvious that she wanted to come back in the evening after her work. It's obvious that she couldn't believe that I would turn her down, if she gave me an offer that I couldn't refuse. But I didn't even want to talk about it.

After the sex as described in the old post, she wasn't going anywhere. She might be still thinking what I would be doing in the evenings instead of having her again. She laid in bed so calmly with me that I was embarrassed to told her, "you can go now". She was embarrassed that she got the wrong message, that I liked her very much. I did. But I had to sent her away just in case. She didn't know that it's better to be safe than sorry. My wife had the rental car and she could be back early. I didn't think I would see her again. I gave her a big tip anyway. But I didn't get a smile in return. She must be disappointed and unsure of herself.

Once she was out I imagined that I was James and called the professional cleaners from the secret service. I made sure that they arrived before I left the crime scene for lunch. On my way out I admired their disguise, nothing can be better than maids in a hotel.

It was against all odds that I had the chance to do it again the next day. My wife was actually in Bond Street or Harvey Nicols. But I destroyed the newspaper classified - no paper trail. It wasn't a big deal. So I went to the newsagent again, together with some big dollar bills intended for Thomas Cook later. But to my big surprise Friday was the day for new classified ads, and the agency was so small that it didn't even advertise every week.

I asked the newsagent for an old copy. She told me that all unsold copies were returned to the publisher, and I should try them. Luckily the regional newspaper was headquartered in town. It didn't take me long to walk there. But it was a Sunday. I banged hard on the front door and the back door. No response. I was so desperate as to call other agencies on the classified and asked for Rebbecca the nurse. They must had think that I was crazy and hanged up immediately. After I calmed down I decided not to see anybody else. It wasn't worth the money, the trouble and the risk, the day right after I met Rebbecca.

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