My BBW Cuckold Story - Part 1 free porn video

It was a drizzly Sunday morning and I finally had the house to myself.

Lucy’s stunning green eyes were glued to the hallway mirror as she applied her rich red lipstick. I cleared my throat.

“What time are you back, my queen?” I asked with a high-pitch stammer.

She circled the small tube around her mouth before pursing her lips, and I wondered whether she’d even heard me. Twisting the lipstick closed, she popped it into her handbag.

“No idea,” she responded without turning her head, and retrieved a mascara from the handbag.

Her dress was the deepest purple and hugged her voluptuous figure. Her wide, round behind looked irresistible under the expensive fabric, and I pictured myself sliding my hands around the curves of her waist and kissing her neck.

“Are you eating out for lunch?” I squeaked, cowering behind the frame of the living-room door.

She made her way in my direction and my heart jumped as I dared to hope for a goodbye kiss. Instead she snatched the keys to her pink SUV from the end-table next to me and walked on by.

“I love you, my queen!” I cried, but the door had already slammed shut behind her.

I teetered on the edge of the sofa and switched on the TV. The roar of Lucy’s SUV resonated throughout our peaceful suburban street, and with one eye I followed her as she backed out of the driveway. My heart was pounding. The moment her rear bumper was out of view, I leaped up and rushed upstairs to our bedroom.

Harsh sunlight burned in through the windows. I crept over to the curtains and drew them shut, enveloping myself in thick darkness. My pulse cracked in my temple. After taking a deep breath, I made my way over to Lucy’s walk-in closet. I nudged the door open and felt along the wall for the switch. The room exploded with light and I slipped inside.

Designer dresses hung proudly along both sides while endless pairs of shoes, still housed in their boxes, waited bored on shelves. With my ears pricked, I tiptoed toward a brown woven basket at the far end and peered inside.

A black sequin dress lay spread out on top. Pinching it between two fingers, I flung it aside, and began rummaging around. Before long I found what I was looking for. Tangled up among other dirty clothes, was a black thong.

An ache burned in my groin; it was one of my favorites. It was lacy and way too small for Lucy’s fat ass, but she liked to wear it anyway. My dick grew solid as I felt the delicate fabric between my fingertips.

Unbuckling my belt, I withdrew to the bedroom and swiped a box of Kleenex from Lucy’s dressing table. I unbuttoned my jeans, yanked them down to my ankles, and held the dirty panties in front of my face. My heart was thumping in my chest and my cock throbbed with lustful anticipation. I let the moment linger for as long as I could, but I couldn’t wait any more.

“Oh god,” I groaned as I buried my face in Lucy’s dirty underwear. As I took a deep breath my body jolted with excitement. I burrowed my hand into my boxer shorts, seized my cock and started pulling on it as I inhaled the sweet aroma of Lucy’s pussy and asshole. Within seconds I was overwhelmed with the urge to climax.

Somehow, I snatched my hand away and dropped the panties onto the bed. I wanted this to last. As I waited for the urge to fade, I yanked a handful of tissues from the box, knowing I’d have to be ready next time, or I’d have the impossible task of explaining the mess to Lucy.

I went back to the laundry hamper and fished out another prize. This time it was a pink pair of French briefs. As I returned to the bed, I pulled them over my face like a mask. Again, I brought the thong to my face, took a deep breath and resumed jerking off, imagining burying my face into Lucy’s plump, juicy ass. It was heaven.

I mustered all my strength to control myself, but it wasn’t enough, and before long I felt the familiar electricity in my groin. This time I knew I’d gone beyond the point of no return. My stomach lurched, my legs jolted, and a loud, raspy “fuck!” escaped my mouth as I blew a warm, sticky load into the handful of tissues.

I slumped on the carpet and waited for my erection to fade. The flame of my perverted escapade had died out, and in its place was a dark cloud of shame. I refused to admit to myself how bad things had gotten, but sitting in my own jizz with my wife’s panties around my face, it was clear enough. I let my head drop and closed my eyes.

The first night we spent together was my teenage dream come true. She was the epitome of all the BBW porn stars I’d spent my youth jacking off to, but that night she wasn’t on a computer screen. I was sick with anxiety, and desperate not to let it show, but the gasp that escaped my mouth as she brushed her hand across the bulge in my boxer shorts gave me away. As I fumbled with her bra, she sighed, swatted my hand away and unhooked it herself. Her breasts tumbled out and my eyes grew wide. She pushed me onto the bed and I pulled down my underwear. The look in her eyes told me she wasn’t impressed, although I knew for a fact that I was at least average. As she mounted my meagre frame, I dug my fingertips into her cushioned waist and gazed up at her in awe. When she took hold of my cock to guide me inside her, I gulped and braced myself for what I knew was inevitable. She barely had me an inch deep before I let out a pitiful yelp, clenched her ass with both hands and shot warm semen down her pussy lips.

“Are you serious?” She sighed. I didn’t say a word; I was still in ecstasy.

Once I’d stopped convulsing, she went to clean herself up. We went to sleep without any further mention of it.

Somehow that didn’t spell the end of me and Lucy. I did better in my next attempt by actually making it all the way inside her before blowing my load. After a while, it became clear my performance wasn’t going to improve. We even tried numbing condoms, but they bought me an extra ten seconds at most. But in the end, it wasn’t a deal-breaker for Lucy, because within a few months we were married. What I lacked in certain departments I made up for in financial and marital security, and I told myself it was enough to keep her happy.

I dragged myself up from the bedroom floor and staggered into Lucy’s en suite bathroom to clean up, and it was while I was walking back in that I spotted her laptop on the dressing table. At first glance, it appeared to be shut, but as I approached, I saw light splashing against the keyboard. I lifted the lid. On the screen, a virus scan was in progress. There was a luminous green bar with only a small portion still empty. Next to a little ticked box read the words:

Shut down after scan completes.

My hand, as if with a mind of its own, grabbed the mouse and snapped the cursor over to the checkbox and clicked.

A few moments later the bar was fully green and a message popped up telling me the scan had completed. The computer remained switched on.

Butterflies in my stomach fluttered their wings. I’d attempted countless times to guess her computer password, to see if she was hiding anything from me, and now it was before me on a silver platter.

I opened her browsing history. As I scrolled down, an endless list of shopping websites whizzed by, but that came as no surprise. But there was something; something I’d had an inkling about for a while. My fingers trembling, I brought the cursor up to the search box, typed the word ‘porn’, and hit enter.

Videos, pictures, erotic fiction - you name it. It was there in her history. Some videos had titles like BBW gets fucked by alpha stud and lucky BBW pounded by big black cock. The butterflies turned into wasps, darting around and stinging the walls of my stomach. I’d convinced myself she just wasn’t that big on sex, but now that illusion was shattered. As I inspected the list, I noticed the last time she’d visited one of her dirty sites was a month ago; yet our sex-life was as dead as ever. A sick feeling sank through me and I went to shut down the laptop. The thought of Lucy returning unexpectedly and catching me snooping on her was too much to bear. But I stopped myself. I knew I’d only get this one chance.

Her Facebook newsfeed flashed up on screen. I took a quick glance and saw Lucy’s friend Amanda, a gorgeous blonde BBW, had posted photos from their night out. Her alpha boyfriend Steve was posing and flexing his huge biceps, sporting a shit-eating grin on his face and standing with his arms around Lucy and Amanda’s waists.

“Asshole,” I muttered under my breath, and opened up Lucy’s conversation history.

She had a myriad of messages from people I’d never heard of. Some were from creepy men, calling her beautiful and asking how she was, and I was relieved to see she had left them without a reply. But then I spotted a name I recognized, and a heavy lump caught in my throat.

Mark Reilly.

The conversation contained only a single message. It was from him.

Okay xxx

It took a few moments, but it finally hit me that Lucy must have deleted the previous messages.

To say I loathed Mark Reilly would be the understatement of the century. He was confident, good looking and everything wrong with the world. At work, he’d routinely undermine and humiliate me. The worst of it, though, was that everybody adored him. Every project he touched turned to gold and our boss never ceased singing his praises, and like every major jerk in history, he was always surrounded by women. They’d laugh like hyenas at every word he said and twirl their hair until it was in knots. He was a grade-A asshole; you just knew he’d been the captain of his high school football team.

The third time he stole a client from under my nose, I considered putting in a complaint, but decided against it. Besides, what grounds would I have, except that he was clearly more competent than I was.

The thought of that jerk talking to my wife made my blood boil. I checked my watch and saw it was past noon. I knew Lucy probably wouldn’t be back for hours, but it was a chance I didn’t fancy taking. I went to shut down the laptop. The conversation with Mark was still open, and as I hovered over the X in the top right-hand corner, something caught my eye.

A new message had appeared in the chat.

It was from Lucy.

“Can’t wait till tomorrow.”

-

She arrived home a few hours later. I heard the door slam, followed by the clack of her shoes as she approached the living room.

“I left the bags in the car,” she said, grabbing the remote. Then she collapsed on the sofa and changed the channel. I got up without a word and made my way outside.

As I opened the trunk and gazed down at the mountain of plastic shopping bags, I sighed as I realized it would take multiple trips. I hung a few around my arms and wobbled into the house.

As I set the first load down in the kitchen, I braved a peek inside. She’d bought dresses, designer-grade makeup, shoes, and a matching pair of bra and panties. Imagining Lucy in them made me excited, followed by a bitterness as it occurred to me that they weren’t for my benefit.

I shook the feeling, and went to fetch the rest of Lucy’s purchases.

Later that evening, as we sat watching TV, I cast my mind back a couple months to my work Christmas party. Lucy was my plus-one and she spent hours doing herself up. She looked a million-dollars. Her black sequin dress pushed up her enormous breasts, she’d done full-face makeup, and I couldn’t remember being more attracted to her.

As I drove us to the venue, I felt overwhelmed with pride that I’d be walking through the doors with her by my side. But when we arrived, I gazed upon the sea of stick-thin beauties, and realized my BBW wife was just another way I’d look a failure to my colleagues. But my low-confidence hadn’t brushed off onto Lucy. Before I knew it, she was deep in conversation with people who never gave me the time of day. They laughed at her jokes, asked her endless questions about her life and showered her with compliments.

Before too long Mark arrived, fashionably late and with a supermodel on his arm, and it seemed the whole party turned their heads to witness his entrance. I gave him a scowl, after ensuring he wasn’t looking my way, and turned my gaze back to Lucy, whose eyes lingered a few moments more in his direction.

Sometime later, while Lucy was in the middle of telling a hilarious anecdote to a group of enthralled colleagues who didn’t even know my name, a deep voice I knew all too well came booming over.

“Colin!” said Mark, barging his way into the group and taking the hand of a tall, bearded gentleman in a five-hundred-dollar suit. “Where you been?”

They both laughed and did one of those detestable bro hugs. Then he went around and shook everyone’s hand like he’d known them all their lives. All except me. Instead, he turned his attention to Lucy.

“And who is this lovely-looking lady,” he asked, gesturing toward her with the hand which held his champagne glass. His blonde beauty companion smirked, as if aware of some inside joke.

“She’s my...” I went to speak.

“Lucy”, said my wife, offering her hand. “And you are?”

“Mark,” he replied, taking her hand. “Mark Reilly.”

“I don’t believe my dear husband’s ever mentioned you before.” Her gaze, which had been fixed onto Mark, flickered toward me.

Mark clasped my shoulder and gave it a tight squeeze.

“She’s yours?” He asked, glaring at me with intense eyes. He let out a chuckle and I looked to the floor to escape his mocking stare.

“I was just telling everyone a story,” said Lucy, “before you very rudely interrupted”. She smiled a wide, cheeky smile.

“Well, my apologies,” he said, bearing his perfectly white teeth. “Please, do continue.”

Lucy turned to me; the smile was gone from her face.

“Why don’t you get us some drinks, dear,” she instructed, before her eyes shifted back to Mark.

“What a great idea, Lucy,” he agreed. “Go on, then. Mine’s a Martini.”

I left Lucy to finish her story and made my way toward the bar. The queue was jam-packed. I struggled to find a way in and wide-shouldered douchebags kept shoving me aside. When I finally reached the front, I was invisible among the row of gaudy cleavage. My neck ached from constantly turning it to check on Lucy, and every time I did, she was in deep conversation with Mark or laughing like a child at something he’d said.

A barman eventually took pity on me and took my order. As I hesitated my way out of the crowd with the drinks, I scanned the room and failed to spot Lucy. For half an hour I wandered like a lost puppy. Eventually, I discovered them in the smoking area, and Mark’s companion was nowhere to be seen. The two of them stood sharing a cigarette.

“Well where have you been?” asked Lucy, swiping her vodka and coke from the tray.

“Looking for you,” I stopped myself from saying.

Mark took his drink, downed it in one, and set it back on the tray.

“Thanks, buddy,” he said, winking.

My blood pressure was rising and I attempted to hide the rage from my face. I cleared my throat and lifted my head to look up at Mark.

“Where’s your lady friend?” I asked, gritting my teeth.

He moved his hand toward Lucy’s and plucked the cigarette from her delicate fingers. Then he took a drag, held it for a second, and blew the smoke in my direction.

“Well, I think I’d best leave you to it,” he said, putting out the cigarette against a wall. “People will wonder where I’ve got to. But it was a pleasure meeting you, Lucy.”

They shared a smile before he walked off and was immediately accosted into another conversation.

I looked over at Lucy and could see her trying to hide her giddy expression. But I knew Mark, and I knew that whole act was just to get to me. That’s how he got his kicks. I let Lucy have her moment of flattery, though, safe in the knowledge that Mark Reilly, a man who could have any woman he wanted, wouldn’t be interested in a million years.

Not long after, Lucy informed me that we were leaving, and I drove us home. She was a little drunk, and when we reached the bedroom, she started to kiss me. My cock sprung to life and I began tearing at her clothes like a rabid animal.

“Come here, “she said, lifting up her dress to expose a G-string. She lay on the bed and beckoned me toward her. I kissed my way up her legs, slid down her panties, and began attacking her clitoris with my tongue. She let out a moan, and for a moment I thought she was really enjoying it. I got excited and slobbered all over her pussy as I intensified my assault. Then came a sigh that not even I could mistake for pleasure.

“Forget it,” she said, pushing my head away and pulling up her G-string. She laid her head against the pillow. I watched her as she fell asleep, and then tiptoed to the bathroom and finished myself off. Then I slipped inside the duvet, thought about Mark and seethed myself to sleep.

An obnoxiously loud commercial snapped me out of my daydream. I gazed over at Lucy watching TV and tried to talk myself into confronting her about what I’d seen earlier. As I opened my mouth, I found myself unable to speak. Looking down at my hands I realized they were trembling. The seconds ticked by, my mouth fell closed, and I began formulating a plan.

The next morning, I awoke with a nervous ache in my stomach. I grabbed my phone and sent a text to my boss saying I had food poisoning and wouldn’t make it in. Then I dragged myself out of bed, dressed myself and made breakfast.

I went into the box room Lexxxi let me have as my home-office and grabbed my battered old briefcase. The leather coating was peeling off and one of the latches was broken. It’d been like this for months, but as my salary went straight into Lucy’s account, I’d have to convince her I really needed a new one. Those conversations rarely went well. I grabbed some random files, shoved them inside and slammed it shut.

“I’m off to work,” I whispered from outside the bedroom door. “Love you, my queen.”

After a few moments of silence, I descended the stairs, left through the front door and stepped into my rusty sedan.

I drove out of our street, went around the block, and entered again from the other end. There was an empty show-home a couple houses down from ours. I parked the car in its driveway, took out a pair of binoculars, and waited.

An hour or two went by, and the coffee I’d gulped at breakfast had gone straight through me. As I deliberated driving to a nearby McDonald’s to relieve myself, I heard a familiar roar. Peering through my binoculars, I watched Lucy back out of our driveway and turn in my direction. I ducked my head down and grabbed the key hanging from the ignition. As she drove past, I willed my hand to turn, but it was frozen stuck. It occurred to me in that moment that I didn’t have any kind of a plan. I could follow her, confirm my suspicions, but from there I had no idea. The logical next step would be divorce, but the thought filled me with dread.

As Lucy drove out of view, I sighed and released my grip on the key, and it set in that I’d squandered my chance to find out the truth.

I stepped out of the car and made my way to our house on foot. Stepping in through the front door, I set my briefcase down on the floor and lingered for a moment in the lonely silence, before making my way upstairs to use Lucy’s bathroom. Afterwards, I tried her laptop again to see if I could find any more clues, but this time it was switched off, so I collapsed on the bedroom floor with my head in my hands.

After a while, my eyes drifted over to the closet, and I deliberated visiting Lucy’s laundry hamper again. As I pulled myself up off the carpet, I failed to hear the wheels rolling up the driveway. But as I made my way into the closet, there was no mistaking the metallic clang of car doors slamming shut.

My body froze. I turned my head sideways like a meerkat and listened. The front door opened. Voices entered. There was laughter. And then, slow ascending footsteps.

“Shit,” I whispered under my breath. I tried to pull the closet door closed, but something stopped it from shutting all the way. Retreating into the darkness, I held my breath.

The voices were nearing. Lucy’s laugh was unmistakable, but the other I couldn’t quite make out. It was much deeper.

I crawled forward and pressed my eye against the small gap in the door. I watched as Lucy entered the bedroom. Her arm was trailing behind her. At the end of it, I saw her hand was clasped to another.

He sauntered in with perfect posture and a wide smile on his face. My nostrils flared. It was him. It was Mark; he was in my bedroom with my wife. I clamped my fists tight and squeezed as I swallowed a scream. In my head I was smashing his head against the floor and pummeling his arrogant face, wiping the smile from it once and for all.

“I’ve been waiting for this all week,” I heard Lucy say. Her yearning eyes were glued to Mark’s handsome face. He slid his hands around her curvy waist and chuckled.

“Well, the wait’s over,” he said, and brought his lips to hers.

The wet kiss pierced my heart. As their tongues shared secrets and their hands explored, Lucy reverted to an excited schoolgirl; she couldn’t stop herself tearing at the body and clothes of the man towering over her.

Mark drew back from her and began unbuckling his belt. Lucy brushed his hands away, popped it open, and gave him a deviant smile. Hot, sickly dread filled my body as she unbuttoned his pants. Mark was blessed with every gift on earth, and so I expected the cruel inevitable.

She seized the beast inside his boxers and pulled it out. My heart sank and her eyes widened with delight. She slid one hand up and down his long, hard shaft and brought her lips forward to kiss him once more.

My wife was committing infidelity before my very eyes. As a man I knew it was my obligation to burst in and put a stop to it, but all I could do was watch in horror as my heart broke in two. Lucy lifted his shirt off, and with a finger traced the canyons of his abs. As he lifted his arms to flex, purple veins popped in his biceps, and I pictured him knocking me out cold in a single punch.

Lucy got to her knees. With her soft hand she guided Mark’s meaty cock into her mouth. She slurped as she sucked on his huge member, and he grasped the back of her head and compelled her to go deeper.

“The bastard’s choking her,” screamed a voice in my head. But then I spotted her massaging his legs with both hands as she gulped and moaned.

“She’s enjoying this,” came the voice again, incredulous.

At this point I could no longer ignore the frenzy in my pants. My body surged with sick rage, but in my tight underwear, my cock was so hard it was uncomfortable. I eased open the button of my fly and nudged the zipper down. Unfolding my boxers over the tip, I took my cock in my hand. It had never been so hard.

I returned my gaze to the scene in the bedroom and saw Lucy was back on her feet. Mark unfastened the tie wrap of her dress and pulled the fabric down off her shoulders. Lucy let it drop to the floor. She was wearing a matching red thong and bra; it was the same one she’d bought the day before. I clenched my fists with intense jealousy.

Mark slid his hands around Lucy’s waist and kissed her. He lowered his hands, groping her round ass as she giggled. Then he gave her a gentle push back and she sunk into our soft bed. He mounted her and began kissing her breasts. As he did, he lowered a hand down over her large belly and toward her panties, and then traced his fingers around them. Every time he neared her pussy, she’d let out a short gasp, and then a groan as he brought his hand away again.

“Oh, Mark,” she said. “I’m so wet for you. Please, I need you.”

He smiled.

“I know,” he replied, and carried on teasing her.

I was red hot with jealousy. She was practically begging him to fuck him, yet she never let me near her.

He teased for a while longer, gliding his hand over her pussy from the outside of her thong.

“Oh, god!” She blurted out as he homed in on her clitoris. “I can’t wait any longer. Fuck me now, please!”

He slid her panties down her legs and she kicked them off. He moved up to the headboard and laid down onto his back. She knew this was her cue and so crawled toward him on her hands and knees. Her tits rocked to and fro as she mounted him.

I had a firm grasp on my dick, and as his huge one slid into her wet pussy, I couldn’t deny myself any longer. My hand had a mind of its own. As he began to fuck her, she let out a short gasp from her gaping mouth, and I began jerking myself off.

He started with slow, purposeful thrusts, his hands digging into her thick waist. At this point I already would’ve finished, but Mark hadn’t even gotten started. She barely tried to stifle her moans, which were like nothing I’d heard before. They weren’t the unconvincing displays of fake pleasure you heard on porn. This was real. I watched in awe as Mark fucked my wife the way I’d always wanted to.

“Harder!” Lucy moaned, scrunching the bedsheet with her hands. “Fuck me harder!”

Mark gave her what she wanted and increased the power and velocity of his thrusts. Her voice grew louder and louder and it occurred to me the whole neighborhood would be able to hear their lovemaking.

As he pummeled her pussy, her ass cheeks clapped together as if applauding him for a job well done, and as her face creased in excruciating pleasure, the words exploded from her mouth.

“Mark! Oh God, Mark, I’m gonna come!”

I’d never heard Lucy utter that phrase. For Mark, it had taken no time at all. A mixture of envy and excitement surged through my body and I braced myself. The moment of climax was near.

Just a few more seconds, I pleaded with myself. For the first time ever, just this once, I wanted to finish with her.

Fucking her harder and deeper with each jackhammer thrust, Mark brought her to the peak of ecstasy. She erupted into a symphony of screams and expletives. I shoved one hand in my mouth and bit down to stifle my cries, as my other grasped my pulsing hard cock to aim. A warm sticky load shot out and splattered against something in the darkness before me. For the first time, my wife and I shared a moment of ecstasy.

As my orgasm came to an end, the reality of the situation started to hit home. I looked out into the bedroom where my worst enemy was making love to my wife. She was screaming in pleasure from the things he could do to her, in ways I never could. My heart began to break. I felt pathetic, spineless and perverted. I wanted it to end.

But Mark wasn’t even close to finished. He continued to fuck Lucy long after I’d spilled my pathetic load. He wanted her every way; doggy style, missionary, cowgirl, up against the wall. I lost count of how many times she came. After a while, the excitement returned and my cock sprung back to life, and I managed to climax a second time.

After what seemed an eternity, Mark decided he’d had enough, and shot his load all over Lucy’s face and breasts. She seemed to love that.

After she cleaned herself up, they collapsed into bed together and closed their eyes.

-

They lay naked in each other’s arms for a while. Lucy’s eyes were closed and a content little smile was visible on her face.

“God, I’m starving,” she said, after what seemed forever.

They got out of bed and began to dress themselves. Lucy slipped into the dress Mark had taken off earlier, applied a little makeup, and then checked herself out at herself in the mirror.

“You know,” she said, turning towards Mark, “I might change. What do you think?”

My heart stopped. Mark approached her, put his arms around her waist and gave her a long, wet kiss.

“You look beautiful”, he said, and guided her out of the room.

“Thank god for you, Mark,” I thought to myself.

I listened as they descended the stairs. Five minutes after hearing the door slam shut, I left the closet, pulling up my pants which were still around my ankles. The room reeked of sex.

I made myself presentable and went downstairs. As I reached the front door, I grabbed my briefcase, then left the house and made my way down the street towards my car.

Going into work wasn’t an option so I just drove around town. At lunch, I went into a fast food joint and drowned my sorrows with greasy cheeseburgers and fries. When I went into the bathroom to wash my hands, I could barely look at myself in the mirror.

Afterwards, I went to the mall and browsed for a couple of hours. I kept checking my phone to see if it was a sensible time to go home, but at the same time, I dreaded being around Lucy, knowing what I did.

I arrived home just after six. As I pulled into the driveway, I spotted our elderly neighbors standing in their front yard. They looked over at me, and I saw the wife whisper something to her husband. They both giggled to each other. I looked to the ground as I walked to avoid their knowing stares.

I knew something was wrong the moment I stepped inside. The loud drone of the television was always the first thing I heard when I arrived home. Today, it was dead silent. I slipped off my shoes and walked into the kitchen.

Lucy was leaning against the counter. She looked up at me as I entered.

“You’re home,” she said.

“Hello, my queen,” I stuttered. “Everything alright?”

She had one hand on her hip and her eyes were frozen fire. I gulped.

“No, not really,” she said. “You see, I wanted to wear my new dress to show Amanda and Stephanie tonight.”

She went over to the kitchen table, on which her new red dress was laying. She picked it up by its hanger and held it up high for me to see.

“I hung it on the back of my closet door this morning. But when I went to get it an hour ago…”

She turned the dress around to show me the other side. It was a perfect rich red, except for the bottom left hand corner, which was stained crusty white.

My stomach dropped to the floor.

I opened my mouth to speak, but she gave me no chance to offer my pitiful excuses.

“I saw your briefcase by the door when I left earlier, but it was gone by the time I was back. That was strange, I thought. So, I called your work and they said you’d called in sick.”

She walked towards me, her high heels clacking against the white tile floor. A wide smile grew on her face as she stared into my eyes and slowly shook her head. There was nowhere left to run.

“So, what have you got to say for yourself?”