Alice in Wonderland

It had been sent at 05.30. I was angry and hurt, anguished and depressed. But this wantonness on my wife's part was also exciting. Within a few minutes I had brought myself to yet another explosive orgasm. Once the pleasure had died done, however, I felt gloomier than ever. I missed Alice but I was also lonely. Maybe I could pick up a woman, I thought. But I didn't want to do that. I really loved Alice. I wanted to be with her.

What was I going to do? I was staying in a lovely hotel. The sun was shining. I could just take it easy and wait until Alice came back. But I've always hated uncertainty -- would Alice come back? I could go to Cannes, I thought whimsically. As soon as I said it, I thought, why not? I knew the chance of finding Alice in Cannes was highly unlikely, but, at least, I was doing something. I had a project and it would keep me sane. Or I hoped it would!

The journey was straightforward -- a bus to Nice and then a train to Cannes. By lunchtime I was there, mingling with the crowds. I hadn't realised that the film festival was going on, but the mass of people and the posters soon apprised me. I wandered out of the station and down to the Croisette. I had no idea where I was going, of course. I somehow thought that, as this was the first time Alice had been to Cannes, she would go to the Croisette at some point.

I strolled along the Croisette, noticing many beautiful women, but none, frankly, as beautiful as Alice. I saw there was a large crowd spreading out into the road from the grounds of the Grand Hotel. As I was passing, I heard a man mention the name Peyroux. Having ascertained that he understood English I asked him if he was referring to the writer, Pierre Peyroux. He looked at me strangely.

"Of course, he is staying in this hotel. He is reclusive and never leaves his house but today he has come here."

"Last night, it was," said his neighbour.

"Yes, yes. Last night he came here with some people. By some accounts he was accompanied by a beautiful woman. That is good. Since his wife died ten years ago, he has been lonely and reclusive. Some say it is this woman who has encouraged him to show himself. It will be good to see him around again. In the South of France, he is a great hero. But you have heard of him too, and you are English?"

"Yes, yes," I said.

"We think he will be coming out shortly. See his car is waiting for him." He pointed to a light blue Rolls-Royce that was standing between the crowd and the front door of the hotel. "We will give him a great cheer. And you too, eh?" He turned back to his friend and began speaking rapidly to him.

With a kind of dread in my heart I hung around to see if this beautiful woman would appear. And whether she would be who I was scared she would be. More and more people joined the crowd and it became quite noisy. I decided to push my way to the front and heard people complaining about 'l'anglais grossier'. I didn't need a dictionary to understand them. But if Alice was going to be here, I was going to confront her.

I was waiting for about thirty minutes and then at last the large glass door of the hotel was pulled open and a couple appeared. The man was about my age, but I had to admit, far more handsome and a lot fitter than me with a deep suntan. The woman, of course, was Alice. The fact that he looked like he was the same age as Alice was somehow even more concerning than her being with Jean. She was dressed in a smart evening gown and her hair was piled high on her head, in what looked like a complicated design. She looked a million dollars. The two of them were not touching, but there was certainly something close about them. A great cheer went up and Pierre waved his hand and turned to say something to Alice who then lifted her hand and waved. She seemed to get an even bigger cheer. I waved to her, shouting out her name. They were moving toward the Rolls-Royce and I shouted, desperately, as loud as I could. Alice kept on waving while her eyes swept the crowd. Suddenly she saw me. I had no idea what her reaction would be, but I admit I was surprised when she smiled and waved even harder in my direction. She turned to say a few words to Pierre and then came running over to me. When she reached me, she stopped and just stared at me. The crowd around me seemed amazed by what was happening.

"How clever of you to track me down. And how nice of you to come all the way to Cannes just to see me. That is why you're here?"

"Of course," I said. I was prepared to have a row with her but somehow her amiable reaction caught me off-guard.

"I explained to Pierre who you are, so he quite understood that I wanted to speak to you."

"What are you doing now? Do you want to grab a coffee?"

She looked at me for a moment and then burst out laughing. "Darling, one of Pierre's books has been made into a film and we're off to the premiere. I couldn't possibly come with you now."

"But I've come all this way to see you. Can't I see you after the premiere."

She cocked her head on one side, as if to say, don't be silly. "You have seen me. And it was very sweet of you to come all this way."

"When are you coming back?"

"Actually, I still don't know, I'm really sorry. We're due to be here for two or three days, say four at the outside and then Pierre wants to show me his house in Paris. I feel kind of committed now. Please don't make it difficult." For a moment I thought I would grab her and shout at her but, somehow, I couldn't embarrass her. I felt I would only be embarrassing myself. "I've really got to go now." She gave me a peck on the cheek then ran back to her car, climbed into the back where the chauffeur was holding the door open. The chauffeur closed the door, returned to the front of the car, got in and started the engine. Alice was chatting to Pierre but as the car passed me, she turned around and waved and blew me a kiss. The crowd parted to let the car pass through and then she and Pierre were gone.

Suddenly I was the centre of attention. Everyone in the crowd seemed to be asking me questions. But, of course, I didn't understand French. Then I noticed the man I had spoken to earlier was standing next to me. He whispered to me, "Don't worry, I'll take charge. They want to know your relationship to the woman."

What could I say? If I told them she was my wife, they would think I was weak and pity me. I couldn't bear that. I looked uncertain. The man must have seen an appeal for help in my eyes because he leaned close to me and said, "She is your wife?" I nodded. He patted my hand. "It is alright. In France, we do things differently. You do not have to worry." He said something to the crowd, and they all cheered.

"What is it?" I said.

"They are pleased for you," the man explained. "Your wife, she is the mistress of a famous author. That means you are honoured too."

"She is not his mistress. I don't want her to be his mistress."

"But you should be pleased that a man as famous and popular as Pierre Peyroux has selected your wife as his mistress." I stared at him in despair. He looked puzzled.

"Ah, you English. You have no idea how love works. If you have signed a piece of paper, then you must be forever exclusively with the man or woman who co-signed it. That is what you think, eh? In France we are more relaxed. We just do what feels right. Then everyone is happy... But I can see for you it is a shock. Come, I will buy you a drink."

The crowd still squeezed around me, wanting to shake my hand, pat me on the back and rejoice with me in my good fortune and it took a little while to escape them. Eventually the two of us were seated in a small bar off the Croisette. I told Patrice, for that was his name, the full story up to and including what Alice had just said to me. He nodded his head as I finished my tale.

"It is always difficult when the wife moves on," he said. "It is especially difficult, when the wife is so beautiful."

"You think she has moved on? You think she really is his mistress?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "He is handsome, and she is beautiful. They make a good pair; do you not think?"

I smiled ruefully, "I thought you were going to try to make me feel better."

"I am trying to make you see the truth. For the next few days, your wife will not be with you. She will be with Pierre Peyroux. It will, I am sure, be quite an experience for her. You must accept this. You must find something to distract you." It was my turn to shrug my shoulders. "There are many lovely women here. Maybe I can introduce you to one or two?" I shook my head. I was too sad, too anxious to say anything. Then I thought of Alice having a great experience with Pierre Peyroux, being introduced to a glamorous lifestyle, the partner of a famous and popular celebrity and I felt a tension building a within me. Would they be making love? Would she really fuck someone else? My dick began to harden and I began to feel excited. I must have looked strange for Patrice stared at me and then nodded, pointing to where the toilet was.

When I returned, Patrice smiled at me. "It affects some men that way. It is good, no? At least you get some pleasure from the absence of your wife."

"I'd be much happier if she were here."

"Maybe, maybe not." What did Patrice mean? How could I be happier when Alice is not here? "Now, you must excuse me, for I, too, have a premiere to go to. Please find yourself a distraction. There are many films here you could enjoy." He laughed. "Many even have subtitles!" He stood up and offered his hand, which I shook. "Goodbye and good luck."

He left the bar and left me thinking. Today was Thursday. It looked like Alice would not be back with me until Tuesday at the earliest -- if she came back. I started to get anxious and excited at the same time. What was going on with me? Was I a masochist? Maybe I was, why else would I be thinking of going to the premiere of Peyroux's film? I had no idea what I was going to do. I just knew I had to see Alice.

I asked the bartender, in my best broken French, if he knew where the premiere was. He gave me directions, in his best broken English, but warned me that the premiere had already started and that I wouldn't be allowed in anyway without a special invitation. I didn't tell him that I had absolutely no interest in the film, just in the whereabouts of my wife.

There was quite a crowd outside the cinema. I got the idea that they were waiting for the celebrities involved in the film, especially Pierre Peyroux to come out. I stood in the middle of the crowd, some fifty yards from the red carpet, being buffeted by people keen to see the stars. After about twenty minutes the doors of the cinema opened and, I assumed, the headline actors, judging by the cheers they got, appeared. When Pierre Peyroux appeared, with Alice next to him an enormous cheer started up. He really was incredibly popular. I think they were holding hands. I pushed myself forward, shouting to Alice. I think she saw me and gave me a vague quizzical smile but passed on with Pierre and, in a few minutes, they were driven away.

My wife was being treated as a celebrity, while I was just tucked into the crowd with the rest of the rubberneckers. There clearly was no point in chasing round after her: she was not going to be returning with me to the hotel. I was sure she must have been making love with Pierre. The sight of all I had seen was continuing to both agitate and arouse me. I felt I was going mad. The only solution was to do just as Patrice had suggested and accept that for the next few days Alice would not be with me. If I was lucky, she might call. I found my way back to the station and returned to my hotel.

*

I can't recall exactly what happened over the next few days. I know that for a lot of the time I was in a state of continuous stimulation, masturbating to thrilling orgasms followed by excruciating, almost unbearable depression. I thought about what Alice would be doing, my imagination on fire with the idea that Alice would be enjoying fine meals, going to the best seats in the cinema and theatre, dancing at parties, sleeping in the finest beds in the most luxurious hotels and making love to Pierre. Frankly, it was difficult to concentrate on anything else. I got one message from Alice, asking if I was alright. I simply told her that I was missing her terribly. She replied, "Awwww! That is so sweet," together with a smiley face. And then nothing.

Tuesday came and went and then on Wednesday lunchtime, while I was having lunch in the hotel restaurant (I'd been mainly occupying myself with eating, while Alice was gone, it was the only solace that came anywhere near satisfying me), I felt someone approach my table. I looked up. It was Alice. She pulled back the seat opposite me and sat down. She was dressed in conventional attire, a white top, jeans and sneakers. She still looked amazing. I don't believe I'd ever seen her looking so full of life, her face lit up and almost drooling with sex appeal. It was all I could do not to drag her up to our bedroom.

She reached over, grabbed one of my chips and popped it into her mouth.

"Mmm. These are good! Pleased to see me?"

"Er, yes!" I said.

"Well, finish your meal, and then we can go up to our bedroom and you can show me how pleased you are."

I had her back. At long last. I had her back. I was so relieved I tucked into my meal with renewed relish. Now was not the time to start an argument about her behaviour.

"What did you do?" I asked.

"The usual things, a few premieres, went to the opera in Paris, saw Pierre's flat. It is a-mazing. You would love it. We visited some fashion houses. Pierre bought me a lovely red mini-dress." She seemed really pleased to see me and talked excitedly.

"Am I going to see you in this minidress?"

"Oh, yeah. I'll change into it later." She stood and reached out her hand to grab mine. "Come on, you've finished, so show me what I've been missing."

*

We were both lying on the bed after the best love-making session we'd ever had. Being denied for the last week, definitely helped. And then the thought of Alice with Jean and Pierre... I had to ask her. I rolled over and looked at her.

"Did you make love to Jean or Pierre?" She looked up at me mischievously.

"A lady never tells," she said grinning.

"Don't mess around, please. Did you?"

"What do you think?"

"Are you going to tell me?"

She looked at me strangely and then made a haunting comment. "Doesn't it make it more exciting for you, that you don't know. It makes it more exciting for me, not telling you. Isn't that what this holiday was all about? Making our love life more exciting? Didn't we just have the best sex ever?"

"Is that why you behaved like this?" I felt relieved. So, the whole thing was just a plan of Alice's, doing what she thought I would like. It was bizarre, but at least now it was over.

"Well, Jean is good-looking, and Pierre is really dishy. It wasn't difficult. And we really are publishing his new novel. I found it so exciting to tease you and you found it exciting to be teased. Didn't you?" I stared at her, not knowing what to say. "I know what you're like, darling. I know all your fantasies. I bet you brought yourself off loads of times. I loved that moment when Pierre and I came out of the cinema and you were stuck in the middle of the crowd trying to attract my attention. Did it arouse you when I practically ignored you? I got aroused -- I almost snapped Pierre's hand off squeezing it so tightly. Ah! That night, with Pierre..." Her voice faded.

"So, you did make love to him?" I gaped, astonished.

"Did I say that? Perhaps I'm still teasing you." She had a wicked expression on her face. "I got really turned on at thought of you bringing yourself off all on your own, thinking about me enjoying myself, going to parties, living the high life."

"Were you?"

"Of course. Your imagination would have been totally justified. In fact, you wouldn't even have thought of some of the things we did."

"We?"

"Pierre and I."

"You're teasing me."

"We'll, whether I am or not, I'd better get changed." She jumped up from the bed and went into the bathroom. I heard the shower splashing and then Alice humming with an unconstrained pleasure I'd never heard from Alice before.

Ten minutes later she was back and starting to rummage through her suitcase.

"Aren't you having a shower, darling. You should, you're all hot and sweaty."

By the time I returned from the shower Alice had changed into her red minidress and slipped on some red velvet high heels. The dress must have stopped some eight inches above her knee. I gaped.

I started to dress, still staring at her outfit. I was really looking forward to going out with her tonight. I'd be the envy of every man. Alice spoke to me. "You know, darling, you were quite right. I should have listened to you years ago. These minidresses do look good on me. And now my legs are tanned they look even better, don't you think?

"You look gorgeous. Unbelievable. I'm so happy that you came back to me. I was worried you wouldn't."

"Oh darling," she said, coming up to me and caressing my face. "Of course, I'd come back. I'll always come back." I was puzzled by her comment and was about to ask her about it when she looked down and examined herself. "I actually enjoy dressing like this now. Showing off my legs is a great thrill. And Pierre likes it too. He says it turns him on."

"It would turn me on too, but I've never got to see you showing off your legs."

"I don't suppose you have. Poor you. I just know you'd enjoy it, too. But I'm married to you. I'm not married to Pierre. It's feels different with him. I feel I need to be more respectable when I'm with you."

"Well, you don't," I said.

Alice smiled at me. "Well, we'll just have to see, won't we?"

"We're seeing already, aren't we?" I grinned at her, having caught her out. "You've already changed into this sexy outfit and I'm not letting you change back."

"I'm not changing back. I said Pierre likes me dressing like this."

"What do you mean?" I asked, panicking. "Are you seeing Pierre, tonight then?" My heart thudded. I couldn't believe it.

I suddenly realised that as we'd been speaking, Alice had been packing her suitcase. I'd been so busy gaping at her short dress that I hadn't noticed. "What's going on?" I said.

"Ah," said Alice, "give me a hand with my luggage and I'll explain." I was so confused, my mind so dogged, I simply picked up her suitcase and followed her out of the room. While we walked to the lift she continued. "Now Pierre is signed up to my company they want to do a kind of pre-publication publicity tour. I think it's important as he's switched to a new publisher. It was my suggestion -- it would be good publicity for Whites as well. And White's want me to accompany Pierre, as I've already got to know him." Suddenly she reached down and grabbed my dick through my trousers. "Wow, it's really large. What a shame I can't make use of it." She wiggled my dick around. "Me going off with Pierre really does make you excited, doesn't it? And It's getting harder!" She grinned at me." If only I had time, I'd give you a blow job. But - I don't."

"So you're going now?" I was too astonished to say anything else.

"Oh, yes! Of course." I was heartbroken. I couldn't believe this beautiful woman, dressed as I'd always wanted to see her, was going away again. She looked so lovely; I could hardly bear it. "You mustn't get upset. Accompanying Pierre is now part of my job."

"I don't understand." I was scared I was going to burst into tears. Actually, I was just scared.

"It's quite simple, darling. We're off tomorrow and I came back to get all my luggage. And to see you too, of course," she added. "I wanted to have some fun with you before I left."