His attempts to find the mansion were frustrated at every turn. The neighborhood's streets formed a maze of circles and cul-de-sacs hidden from one another by dense but impeccably groomed landscaping. Each time he made a wrong turn and she showed him the way, he wondered how often she had found it on her own. In the dark, each private entrance looked alike, until they came face to face with the twisted bars of his imposing iron gate and the familiar glass eye of the camera, peering down at them like a mechanical cyclops atop the towering stone pilaster.

As they waited, he turned to her, only to find her staring once again through the ominous gate into the night on the other side. She wore her hair up in a more formal style, revealing tantalizing glimpses of supple neck and glittering diamonds decorating each ear. She was a vision, but not one of his own making.

He remembered her gasp when she opened package, and how its contents overflowed its edges, as though it had suddenly taken its own deep breath, increasing its volume to double the box's capacity. The material was black as night, and reflected the light as though it was partly metallic. When she lifted it from the box and held it up in front of her, it unfolded slowly, its weight surprisingly light in her small hands. She dressed herself in private, and he was more than satisfied to let her do it. It was his turn to gasp when she appeared from their bedroom, wrapped in the elegant gift from her enigmatic lover.

The material fit her midsection as tightly as a corset, softening to cup her breasts in two delicate pouches that barely covered the tops her nipples. Four gold catches secured the middle about her like a second skin. From hips to floor, the dress expanded in a series of large horizontal scalloped pleats that trailed slightly behind her as she walked.

It opened down the front in an inverted V, gathered just below her belly, widening two feet or more by the time it reached the floor. When she walked, the cascades of pleats opened wider to reveal her legs, from black heels to the very tops of her bare thighs. The contrast of one slender ivory leg after another, slim thighs flexing, thrust through the opening as she took step after step framed by the dark flowing fabric, was startling, even to her husband of so many years.

'My God - she could have any man.'

And then, just at that moment, she had smiled at him, as though she could read his every thought.

Now they sat in silence as the gate opened once again and the car slipped through it, winding forward into the night. She sat taller in her seat as they approached the house, her shoulders squared, breasts thrust forward, heaving against the dress with each slow, deep breath. She leaned forward slightly as though she was drawn to their destination by the same powerful force that equally repelled her husband.

When the engine died she looked at him with love and pity.

"The things you must be thinking about me...and yet you bring me here, again. You must love me more than I ever imagined."

She leaned toward him, circling him with her bare, slender arms, and kissed him deeply. Pressing closer, she dropped a hand to his lap, exploring between his legs as the kiss became more frenzied. And then, just as she felt his erection begin to grow, she stopped and pulled away, looking lovingly into his eyes once again as she straightened a few strands of hair that had come undone.

"You'll wait for me?"

He tried to answer. Trust and jealousy, love and anger, pride and humiliation, all sliced his insides to pieces, then tore the ragged wounds in all directions. He trembled from her lust for him, and from the frustration of watching that same lust willingly surrendered to a man waiting to use it for his own amusement. He just stared back at her, an elegant vision, alive with fresh, tempting beauty and innocent, smoldering heat. How could he say yes, agreeing to let this man use her eager body a second time while he waited for him to satisfy her? How could he say no, and risk losing her to this maddening obsession? In the end, he couldn't say anything at all.

She smiled confidently at him one last time. Her bare legs seemed to glow in the light that spilled into the car from the house behind them. The dress had opened wider when she moved away from him, and now revealed the pale skin of her lower belly and the pouting lips nestled between the tops of her thighs. He couldn't take his eyes from it, and she let him look, knowing he saw her ripening cunt, juicy and wet, ready for what waited for her across the white pavement beyond the marble steps.

Watching her approach the house brought back bitter memories. A different dress, a different night, but the way she moved toward her destination, almost strutting with anxious determination, was painfully familiar.

He appeared at the door just as she arrived and stepped outside to meet her. A stray lock of hair hung free at the side of her face, still undone from her husband's touch. He tucked it back in place, then turned her, moving against her from behind. She tried her best to contain a brief moan when his lips found her neck, but she failed, suddenly afraid that the soft sounds she made might escape into the night air to reach the open car window.

A lean, bronzed forearm and palm circled her waist, drawing her closer to him, while another hand freed her breasts from the front of the dress. Her nipples hardened at once and throbbed under his fingertips. She leaned back against him, eyes closed, lips trembling as she tried to contain a second moan. He feasted on her bare neck and shoulder, and she cried out again, louder, a guttural noise that rose from deep inside her. This time she was certain it had reached her husband, but was already beyond caring. Simon was pleased that she so quickly shed her inhibitions before her waiting husband, and let her know with a whisper as his teeth grazed her ear.

"Slut."

The word sent a ripple through her belly, and she pushed harder against him, until she could feel the hardened length of his cock against the small of her back. From the car, her husband watched as she melted against the man, her nipples swelling so easily as he cupped her breasts, her hips grinding into him as her bare legs parted and swayed through the open front of the dress. With her third moan, he raised the car window and looked away.

He had never heard the sound come from her before, nor had he ever seen her surrender to lust so immediately. When he finally summoned the courage to look toward the house again, they had vanished, leaving him alone with his imagination and pain.