’She gave me the black dress to hold, took my other hand in one of hers, and quickly led me through the clothing department to the fitting-rooms in the far corner. They are surprisingly spacious, almost as if they had been designed to allow you to take a friend in with you. Best of all, they did not need to be regulated by a member of staff, because all of the merchandise was electronically security-tagged, and there were also cameras at various places around the store. At such a quiet time, there was no one about to notice us; the blonde woman and I slipped into the end fitting-room together, and she clicked the plywood door closed behind us. I hung the black dress on one of the hooks provided on the wall – both of us knowing that it had nothing to do with why we were there.I leaned back against the rear wall, my tongue wetting my lips in anticipation, and for a tantalising moment we just looked at each other, consumed with lesbian lust. Then she stepped closer, undid my school. She hasn’t mentioned Steve since she saw him climbing a month ago. During April she often bumped into him. She talked about him a lot. About the work that he had going on at his big house. About the travels that he told her he is planning. About the fantastic gardens that he’s putting in. But then it stopped. For a month she hasn’t mentioned him at all. I had blithely thought that she hadn’t seen him. But there it is. From the mouth of an innocent c***d. ‘Yes daddy. All the time.’ I feel like I need to vomit. I think I’m actually in shock.I wanted her to be a Hotwife. I really did. It was a silly obsession inspired by pornography. I knew that. It felt like a dangerous game that was fun to play. I’d kind of subliminally persuade her to lead me where ever she wanted to go. Which was never going to be cuckoldry. I knew I couldn’t make her do anything. I know I can’t control her. I wouldn’t want to. I couldn’t just come out and ask her to be a Hotwife. She would balk at it. It would.
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