The Seven Day Detox

I led her into her building and up the stairs rather than the lift (which had a recognizable voice telling one which floor one was at). On her floor I opened the fire door and glanced down her corridor to check the coast was clear before leading her to her apartment. I had her turn and face the wall, just in case she could peek out from under the blindfold (I was sure she couldn't) and then, in almost total silence, I unlocked her door with her key which I had removed from her bag earlier.

I did wonder if she would pick up on a familiar smell or something, but perhaps her anticipation was such that she was focused on the first alien touch and whether it would be a man, or men, or even a woman (all things which were possibilities on her list). I took her by the arm and led her into her apartment, closing the door quietly behind us, and then I stood behind her and unbuttoned her coat, slipping it off and letting fall by her feet. I caressed her arms gently for a final time as I turned her to her dining table, and then I bent her down over it, her face turned to the side and her palms flat on the cool pine.

And then I tiptoed to the door and opened it again silently, slipping out and closing it with the tiniest click. And then I walked off down the corridor, resisting the urge to whistle as I wondered just how long Amanda would stay like that before lifting her blindfold to find herself alone in her own home and I later found out it took quite a while as she was half convinced I was sitting there waiting for her to break my rules. Apparently, when she did realise my trick she laughingly cursed me as the biggest bastard on the planet - an exaggeration, but I'll take the compliment.

You may reasonably be wondering how it was that I could leave a perfectly succulent, naked woman bent over a table like that. Well, I had another appointment much closer to home; everything I'd done with Amanda was done as a favour to my wife. And it was time the favour was repaid. By that point my wife had been home for a couple of hours, and would have read the instructions I'd left her, so with the satisfaction of a job well done and a song in my heart I returned home and did everything to my wife that Matt had done to Amanda, complete with bondage cuffs, stockings, blindfold and butt plug. I can heartily recommend it.

***

Time passed and life happened, and it wasn't until after Christmas that I thought about Amanda again. I was staring out of the window at the thick flakes of tumbling snow as my wife sat with her feet up on the coffee table, savagely marking some of her students' generic work. She didn't look up when I asked if Amanda was heading in a better direction now, indeed she barely seemed to divert her attention but as an experienced observer of her I could tell she had been expecting this question at some point.

"I suppose you want to know if she's still thinking of you, wistfully," she asked with a grin, and before I could contradict her she continued triumphantly, "well, sorry dear, but you aren't the answer to that particular maiden's prayer - I introduced her to Nico six weeks ago and I don't think they've got out of bed since."

It was blindingly obvious, and my wife had the right to look smug. Nico was an extreme ex of hers - they'd had a 'relationship' in their second year at university which basically involved fucking each other's brains out for five months. Since then they'd kept in touch (and no, I absolutely wasn't threatened by their friendship), and in many ways Nico was another Matt, sticking his cock in any woman he could - but with more charm and finesse than Matt - but never committing until, very unexpectedly, he fell hard for a woman two years previously.

Which was great until she upped and left him for a quantity surveyor, leaving him heartbroken. That was a year ago, and rather than throw himself back into his old lifestyle Nico had shown every sign of wanting to find another serious relationship. He had grown. And there we had it - Amanda had a fascination with bad boys, so who better to fix her up with than a reformed one.

"I hope you don't mind," my wife went on, "but it might be better if you don't come to the wedding."

"Discretion? Ok. And what about Amanda's list?"

"I heard a hint that they might be exploring it," my wife smirked as she set her books down on the table, "but I think we should turn our attention to my list, don't you...?"

And with that she teased up the hem of her skirt to reveal the tantalising stocking top beneath...