Shauna's Infidelity

Now my tummy growled as I watched the microwave do its thing.

"So, what's for lunch?"

"Leftovers from last night. Hope you don't mind."

"I'm sure that whatever you made is fine."

Five minutes later I put two steaming plates on the coffee table. "Here you go."

"Thank you." Bruce nearly attacked his plate.

"I'm glad you had to come out all this way."

"Thanks. I'm glad I did, too."

"No, seriously," I said. "My husband didn't even say anything about sending one of his buddies to check on me."

Bruce made a noise. "That doesn't sound like Andre."

I said, "I wouldn't mind him being gone so much, if he took me with him. But he always leaves me here all by myself, in this big house."

Bruce said, "If you were my wife, I wouldn't go anywhere without you."

Oh, my god. I felt myself melting inside. It was simply unreal to me that this man wasn't already married, with two point three kids.

We had been eating for several minutes when Bruce said, "I wish this crick in my neck would go away. It hurts."

"Would you like me to fix that?" I offered.

"If you don't mind," he replied.

"Sure," I smiled. I made my voice sound like everything nice. "Why don't you take off that sweater, sugar?"

It's not often when I'm caught off guard. His back and shoulders were smooth and muscular. So were his arms. I was suddenly hesitant. I just barely touched his back, with my fingers, and drew back slightly. His back was as smooth and firm as it looked.

I started moving my hands over his back. Down, up, down, across, in little circles.

"I can't thank you enough."

"Nothing to it, sugar," I said lightly.

"You sure have soft hands."

I smiled. "Thank you." I gently massaged his shoulders next. "Wow. Your muscles are tight, sugar. My husband works you far too hard."

"Man. A few more minutes of this and I won't be able to get up."

I giggled. "That's the idea."

Then he looked at his watch. "Damn."

"What? What's the matter, sugar?"

"I have to be going back to my office," he said.

"You have to be going, already?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Bruce said. He stood up, grabbed his sweater, and put it on.

"Won't you have the rest of your lunch?" I gestured to his not quite empty plate on the coffee table.

He looked at his watch again. "I don't even have time for that. I'm sorry, Shauna. I have to go."

"Don't be sorry. I understand." I got his jacket from the foyer closet, then walked him to the front door. "I hope the rest of your day goes better."

He smiled, putting his blazer back on. "It already has. Thanks to you."

I blushed and beamed at him. "I'm glad I could be of service."

Before he went out the door, he said, "I probably shouldn't ask you this."

"Ask me what?"

"Promise you won't slap me?"

"I promise I won't slap you. Ask me, sugar."

"Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?" Bruce asked, speaking rapidly.

Before I knew what I was doing, I hugged him. "Oh, I would love to have dinner with you, don't be silly!" I replied. "Oh! I even have an idea."

"What's that?" Bruce asked me.

"I have a meeting downtown later today. How about if I meet you at your office? That way you won't have to drive all the way out here and back again. I know that's a long drive."

"You sure?" Bruce asked.

"Quite sure," I nodded. "I can make them think I'm coming over to your office from my office for a meeting, but then you're leaving and I just leave with you."

Bruce reached for his wallet. "I'd better give you this."

"What is it?"

"It's my card. Might be useful to know my office address."

I giggled. "Yeah, that might be useful. When does your office close?"

"Five thirty."

"I'll arrive about ten minutes before that. You'd better be going, now."

"Yeah. See you later. Thank you again for lunch."

I smiled. "It was my pleasure." I closed the door behind him, then slid down the door with a long moan.

Oh my god, I cannot believe what I'm about to do. But this has got to be better than how my husband is treating me. Certainly can't be any worse.

First my husband refused to make love to me. I didn't buy his excuses one bit. When we first got married, I don't know how many times my husband went out of his way to make sure I was satisfied before he left for work.

Sometimes he even had to call in late.

And then this afternoon. Does Andre really think I'm so stupid that I won't notice the different lies he told to Bruce and I? It's the smallest lies that have the biggest consequences -- kind of like a snowflake that causes an avalanche.

Last night, I went upstairs, to make love to my husband. I kicked off my heels, slipped off my dress, then slipped under the covers with my husband. I did everything I knew of to get him to notice I was there.

I didn't get a response from him.

A couple of hours or so after Bruce had left the house smiling, I turned off the TV, and went upstairs to take a bath. I only take a bath when I really want to take my time getting ready, to get myself put together just right for that special man in my life.

I already considered Bruce a special man.

I spent more than half an hour in the tub, letting the bubbles soften my skin. I shaved my arm pits, my legs, and my pussy. Finally I got out of the tub and reached for the bottle of baby oil. I had to stop myself from imagining Bruce rubbing baby oil on my back for me, because it made my pussy tingle. Then I wrapped a towel around me and went to the bathroom sink.

I used my curling iron to style my hair in soft wide curls. I applied my makeup, in a traditional office look. First I buffed on natural powder foundation. I put on dark mascara and eyeliner, but no eye shadow. Finally I put on chocolate lipstick and a top coat of clear lip gloss.

Now all I had to do, was pick out what on earth I was going to wear for meeting, and my date with Bruce -- and I had to do it soon, because the next commuter train was leaving in about forty minutes, and it takes a good 15 minutes to walk down to the train station.

Feeling about as nervous as a teenager on her prom night, I went to the closet and considered the wardrobe possibilities. It actually wasn't as difficult as I was making it to be. I have, after all, been in an office before -- just not in a long while.

My office things, many in leather, were towards the front of the closet, so I didn't have to look very far to find clothes I haven't worn in months. Then I found something I thought I had lost -- my portfolio case, with all my work still inside. Magazine clippings, photos and such, sat inside clear plastic pages.

Over a brown lace bra, I slipped on a dark brown long sleeved shirt with a collar, and snapped the snaps closed. Then I slipped on a knee length black leather skirt, with no panties. I felt a thrill as I pulled it up past my booty, tucked my shirt inside the skirt, and then zipped it up. I found a matching black leather belt with a gold plated buckle, slipped it through the loops and buckled it.

Finally, I found a pair of knee high black leather boots, and went to sit in the bay windows to put them on. These were my favorite pair of boots to wear -- they had a four inch high, slender, pointed, stiletto heel, began just below my knee, and had soft supple leather uppers. I put on the right boot first, zipped it up, and extended my leg to admire the effect. I loved the way the leather smoothly followed the curvature of my calf, continued down to my slender ankle, and onto my foot -- one long smooth curve.

I quickly put on the left boot and zipped it up.

I went to the mirror, looked at myself. Did a few poses. I felt so sexy.

Clicking my way back across the room, I found my matching black leather drawstring purse, and dropped a few essential items inside.

Now I was ready.

Despite what a pain it was to walk down to the train station, I am so glad I did not try to drive down town. I could see for myself that the traffic was horrible.

No wonder people get road rage.

The train was nearly empty as I rode it downtown after my appointment. I sat there, legs neatly crossed, watching the houses slowly give way to apartment buildings, then to towering office buildings. It made me feel slightly nostalgic, even as I clicked my nails impatiently on the plastic arm rest, waiting for the train to stop already.

I was relieved to see that I got off the train at the right stop. I climbed up the steps to street level, and saw Bruce's office building right away, literally a stone's throw from the train stop. I started walking, feeling ultra sexy as my boots went click-click-click, and my skirt went swish-swish-swish.

I walked down the sidewalk, past the fountain in the square, across the street, and over to where Bruce's building was. I finally came through the glass doors after about a ten minute walk, my boots making a more solid click on the tile floor.

Pretending to be a visitor, I looked for Bruce's office, then went for the elevators. I came out of the elevators on the right floor, exactly ten minutes before closing time.

I came out, and walked down the hallway, towards mahogany double doors.

As I crossed the doorway, a woman's voice stopped me. "Hi, can I help you?"

The woman was easily ten years younger, and clearly Asian, wearing a dark blue blazer and skirt, and shiny black patent-leather stiletto pumps, her dark brown hair tied back in a bun.

Instantly, I did not like her.

Behave, I told myself. Act professional. I made myself smile at her. "Yes. My name is Shauna White. I'm here to see Bruce Cameron."

"Do you have an appointment?"

"I'm afraid I don't. I thought I would just come over with some samples of my work for Mr. Cameron to look at." Besides myself, that is.

"May I ask what this is about?"

"Yes, I'm his interior decorator." I showed her my case.

"You can go back. But just to let you know, we're about to close for the weekend. You may want to make an appointment for next week."

"Oh, I see. If I can't see him, I'll just make an appointment. Where's his office at?"

"Just go all the way to the back." The girl pointed.

"Thank you, sweetie." As I walked back, I passed people who were heading the other way, for the door. Men, and a few women, paused to look at me as they passed.

I nodded and smiled -- and kept right on walking. Straight to the back.

I passed rows of large cubicles, which were now empty, and finally arrived at a glass door. I opened it and stepped inside. On either side of the door as I came in were two beautiful black leather couches. There were two large desks, one on the left, and one on the right. A pretty black woman sat at the desk on my left. There was a pretty blonde woman sitting at the other desk.

Both women were clearly getting ready to leave the office for the weekend.

"Excuse me." I put my purse and case on the couch.

"Hi." The blonde girl smiled at me. She stood up, and came around to me.

"Hi. Is this Bruce Cameron's office?"

"It sure is. I'm his secretary, Heather."

"Hi, Heather. I'm Shauna White."

Heather stepped into my arms for a quick hug and a brief kiss. "It's so nice to meet you. That's a pretty outfit."

I smiled at her. "Thank you, sugar."

"Can I help you with anything?"

"You sure can." I showed her my case. "I'm his interior decorator. I was wondering if I might be able to see him?"

"I'm not sure if he's going to see anyone right now. We're just about to close for the weekend."

"Oh, I see. Can I just pop in to say hi?"

"Let me just peek in his office and ask first. If he says no, I'll be happy to make an appointment for you. Okay?"

"Okay." But I'm sure he'll say yes.

She opened the door and stuck her head in. "Excuse me, Bruce? There's a Shauna White here to see you."

I heard him say, "Yeah, let her in."

Heather smiled as she held the door open further for me. "Come on in."

"Thank you." I quickly picked up my things and walked over.

"Bruce, will you be needing me for anything else?"

"No, Heather. Thank you. Have a nice weekend."

"Thank you, you too." She turned to me. "It was nice meeting you."

"It was nice to meet you, too." I took two steps inside. She closed the door behind me. The room quieted. I dropped my case and purse in a chair.

Bruce rose from his desk and came around in front, smiling. "Hi."

He extended his arms to me. I slipped my arms around his waist and gave him a hug. "Hi, sugar."

"Did you have any trouble finding my office?"

I smiled at his concern and shook my head. "No, no problems at all. Did you know the train stops two blocks away from your office building?"

"Good. And no, I didn't know. Might start taking the train."

"How do you like my outfit?" I turned completely around for him. Then I placed my hands on my waist and struck a pose.

"I like it. You look very pretty."

"Thank you, sugar." I smiled at him, blushing.

"You must like to wear leather."

I felt my blush deepen. "That's very perceptive of you."

"Not really."

"Yes, it was. Most men are too busy drooling over my booty to notice my fashion choices. So thank you."

"No problem."

"What about my boots? Do you like my boots?" I did one more quick turn, and faced him again.

Bruce was looking at my boots, practically staring. "Yes, I love your boots."

"Good. I wanted to wear an outfit you liked."

"I like it a lot."

"And, to answer your question, I love to dress in leather."

"And here I thought you were wearing it for me."

"I am."

Bruce coughed. "Is that your portfolio?"

"Yes."

"Well, here, let's sit on the couch and take a look. We'll be much more comfortable that way."

I smiled at him. "That would be nice."

Bruce's office was huge. As I came in, his desk was on my left. Directly behind that was a leather office chair. Built into the wall was a huge book case, stuffed with books, and a small closet. Further along was a small bathroom. Finally, at the other end of the room, was a black leather couch with a smoked glass oval shaped coffee table.

There was quite a view of the city through the windows on my left.

My high heeled boots clicked on the tile floor as I crossed the room to the couch.

I sat and crossed my legs casually, then placed my purse on the couch next to me. As I unzipped my portfolio case, I said, "I thought it might be a good idea to bring you some of my previous work to look at. Give us something to talk about."

I opened my portfolio case and placed it on the table for him.

Bruce nodded. "Very good idea. Here, let's take a look." He started flipping through the plastic pages. "Wow, this is impressive."

I blushed. "Thank you."

Finally he stopped on a page. It was a bedroom photo, featuring a hardwood platform bed. "I like this. I have a bed just like it."

I nodded. "That's one of my favorites, too."

Suddenly I saw his face change. "That's why you look so familiar."

"What do you mean?"

"I saw a story on the news about you. About how you designed the interior for this rich guy's mansion, how it was your big break."

"Yes, I remember. Stephen Hawkins. He begged me to do his mansion in the hills. Ironically, that was right before Andre asked me to quit."

"That's a real pity. But I liked that wooden platform bed so much, I went and bought one that weekend."

"Wow. What else do you like?" I showed him more pages. "What about the living room, for example?"

But before Bruce could answer, a knock at the door made him look up. The girl from the front desk stood there. "Bruce?"

Bruce said, "Yes, Cassie?"

"I'm leaving for the night. Is there anything I might bring for you both to drink?"

"No, thank you, Cassie. We'll be fine. Have a nice weekend."

"Would you like to make an appointment for her to come back next week?"

"No, thank you." He looked at me and said, "Perhaps you'd like to discuss this further over dinner, if you don't have any plans?"

"I would like that."

"Good night then, Bruce."

"Have a nice weekend."

The girl nodded briefly at me as she closed the door.

After the door had safely closed, I said, "I'm wondering if this is a good idea."

"You mean us having dinner?" Bruce collected his jacket and a black canvas knapsack, and a little baggie.

"Yes. That girl was trying her best to hide it."

"Hide what?"

"Maybe you haven't noticed that green tinge to her skin? The color of jealousy?"

"What are you talking about? That girl is just a co-worker, no matter what else she might be thinking."

"She was still acting jealous."

"Well, I don't see anything to be jealous about. I'm having dinner with my interior decorator to discuss decorating my house."

"Then lead the way, sugar."

Bruce held the door open for me, and we left his office. Heather was standing, and grabbing her purse. "Have a nice weekend, Bruce."

"Thank you, Heather. Both of you ladies."

"Thank you, baby."

"What's up with Cassie?" Heather suddenly said.

The black secretary spoke up. "Probably that little green monster named envy. Bruce, your friend here is dressed better than she is."

I smiled at her. "Why, thank you, sugar. I don't think we were introduced."

"I'm Tiffany."

My god, she was beautiful, with glowing dark chocolate skin, jet black straight hair, and the most beautiful brown eyes. And her clothes -- a sleek black skirt, black sweater, and black stiletto heels -- were not only stylish and professional, but sexy.

"Well, Tiffany, let me just say, you don't look too bad yourself."

Tiffany smiled at me. "Coming from you, I'll take that as a compliment, baby."

"It was meant as one."

Tiffany extended her arms to me. "Come here, baby girl." We shared a friendly hug and a kiss. Tiffany looked at Bruce and said, "So, I'm guessing you two are continuing your talk over dinner?"

"Yes, we are. Shauna has agreed to have dinner with me."

"Well, I hope you two have a nice dinner. Business or pleasure?"

I shrugged and blushed. "Hopefully some of both."

Tiffany turned to Bruce and gave him a hug and kiss. "I hope you have a nice weekend, Bruce."

"Thank you, Tiffany. Hopefully, without further ado, we can all get out of here."

We all walked out of the office in silence, then got into the elevator together.

At the ground floor, the four of us walked off the elevator. The two secretaries finally left us. I turned to Bruce. "You know, I like those girls."

Bruce smiled. "I rather thought you might get along nicely. But now let's go have dinner. I'm eager to continue our conversation."

I leaned in close. "So am I, sugar."

We were comfortably seated at a table in the restaurant across the street, eating dinner. "So, where were we?"

I giggled. "I believe I was asking you about your living room."

"Ah, yes. Let me see what else you have in there."

"Okay." I unzipped my portfolio again and showed him the pages.

"Whoa, stop."

I had flipped to a page featuring a large comfy sectional with an ottoman at one end, upholstered in a green material. "You like sectionals?"

"Yeah. They're good for falling asleep watching TV."

I laughed. "That they are. Don't tell me you bought this one, too."

Bruce chuckled. "We have the same taste in furniture."

"Yes. Very similar tastes."

Bruce said, "You know, I have to say I'm very impressed."

"With what?"

"Your presentation. You came prepared."

"Just doing my job." I fluttered my eyelashes at him. Then I looked at my watch. "It's getting a little late. I suppose we should be getting home."

Bruce looked at his watch. "Yeah, it is. Didn't realize. I've got to go to the little boy's room, then we can go."

"Okay. Matter of fact, I need to use the restroom, too. Can I just wait for you at the valet?"

"I'll meet you there."

Bruce went to the men's room. I went into the ladies' room. I quickly went into the nearest stall, and searched in my purse for the birth control sponges. I put one booted foot up on the toilet seat, hiked up my skirt, and slipped the thing inside my pussy.