Down the Rabbit Hole

"There is only one thing in life worse than being talked about; and that is not being talked about"...Oscar Wilde

The sex had been fabulous and she was certain that both of them had experienced the ecstasy in equal shares. What had began as a calculated seduction had definitely ended up as an out- of- bounds sexual adventure where they had loosed all inhibitions and given themselves over to a night that saw its finale in the outrageous.

There had been no misconceptions of love or any other tender emotions. He was the dispenser and she was the receiver. At one point during the night their roles had reversed. She had pleasured him every bit as much as he did her, and each of them gave until there was nothing left. It had come to her as a wild and disconnected thought; but she remembered thinking how glad she was that she maintained her fit body by working out three times a week at her gym. While she had been aiming for a healthy long life span, she had no idea she would reap the other rewards that a fit and lithe body could provide. Although she was tired, her muscles did not ache and she was not sore from the rigorous sex. Truth was, she could have enjoyed a morning romp, but she did not want to wake Stanford and get him started all over again and the timing was not right.

There were two more remaining parts to her plan that had to be carried out. And she must keep moving and get them taken care of immediately...before she had time to think about what she had done and who she was doing it to. Of course Helena was her prime target, and initially; the thought of using her son to complete that revenge had been daunting but doable. Especially when she considered what was waiting for her at the end of this escapade.

As handsome, exciting and sexy as young Stanford Jr., is Claudette couldn't help but let herself imagine that she was with Griffin for a few moments. Both men were fine and sophisticated and dreamy hunks, but each in his own way. Griffin McCoy had that older, suave man of the world persona about him and he wore it well. His completely white head of hair and his confident manner; the way he wore his clothes...all of this only added to his sex appeal. Whereas Stanford was just beginning to realize his manliness, and that was a little endearing...but no! she could not nor would not dwell anything endearing! She still had work to do.

So she slipped out of bed, and gathered up her scattered clothing and shoes from around the room and quietly went into the huge bathroom to dress. How she would have loved to soak in this gorgeous bath tub! How she would have relished a slow and lazy 'morning after'; complete with breakfast in bed followed by more delicious loving. As she hurriedly redressed in last night's outfit (she must be gone before he wakes) she appeased herself with the thought that she'd get Griffin to bring her back here when they got together. Then, it would be all she'd want...and more.

She had promised to meet Honor downstairs in the coffee shop. The text message Honor had sent her very early this morning indicated that she was to be there at nine sharp. Honor would have the photos of her and Stanford Jr., in their sex acts. The tiny hidden camera was supposed to have captured at least an hour's worth of activity. So, being conscious of this fact was one of the stimuli that had kept her going. She had no way of knowing which sixty minutes of her star performance was to be immortalized on film.

Next, Honor would see to it that the film reached Helena Clayton; probably by the end of the day or thereabouts. When the room got cleaned by housekeeping, a certain house keeping specialist would be sure to neatly bundle up the bed linen from their love bed, remove the hidden camera to wrap up with the linens, deliver this bundle to the third person in the partnership and that person would then add the bundle to the envelope with the photos and the third present in this surprise package (which she would be passing along to Honor this morning) which was the pair of panties she had tucked inside her purse just for this purpose.

If that didn't send Helena over the edge...what would?

Claudette finished dressing and tiptoed across the room toward the door. Stanford moaned a little in his sleep but continued snoring softly. His arms and legs were sprawled out under the tangled sheets. He was totally out of it thanks to the small amount of sedative she had added to his night cap. It was simply a bit of insurance to make sure he didn't wake up before she had s chance to escape. She took a moment's pause to stand over him; looking at him and briefly thought that he looked so peaceful and so handsome in his sleep. Quickly giving herself a second to feel regret, she hoped that someday he would be able to forgive her, and that he would not have too bad a headache from the sedative. She kissed the tips of her fingers and lightly touched them to his lips.

It was too late for her now. She was too far gone; she was already down the rabbit hole and almost mad as a hatter.

Three Faces in the Mirror

Everything about this night had a surreal quality to it and strangely that served to only add to the heightened adventure of the night ahead. From the moment I left my house until the moment I had arrived at our previously agreed upon destination I had felt the detached reality of it all. I remember thinking that 'This was it. This was the point of no return'. Other ridiculous thoughts entered into my mind at that time; stuff that didn't make any sense at all. Random, disconnected thoughts like 'here is where the rubber hits the road' and 'if you had any sense at all...you'd run like the hounds of hell were on your heels.'

But I paid no heed to the last minute warnings and imaginary flashing caution lights in my head. Right...(no...there was nothing right about what I was going to do); so wrong or whatever...I was here I was going through with it and there was no turning back. I came to divide and conquer and that was just what I intended to do. There was one small pesky thought that had popped up in my mind just before I left home. I had finished dressing and was taking one last look at my makeup in the bathroom mirror, and as I started to turn away from the mirror something caused me to look back at my reflection.

I stood there and stared at myself for a moment and I did form a mental picture of myself...three pictures actually. I looked at myself as a warm and loving mother and grandmother, a helpful and pleasant co-worker and (this was the latest addition) a wanton and unscrupulous woman. The smile that I had on my face right then assured me that this was the most fun personality I had and I was certainly looking forward to my rendezvous and I was determined to squelch any feelings of trepidation or second thoughts.

My heart beat seemed to match the click of my high heels against the pavement as I walked across the hotel parking lot. Excitement and nervousness competed with each other inside of me. I felt so alive; more alive than I had felt in months! I was going to block everything else out of my mind and just allow myself to feel whatever he made me feel. I would not think I would only react. He would be the puppeteer and I would dance for him, and he could make me into whatever he needed me to be.

The closer I got to the entrance the more I detached from the person I normally am. The everyday...average nice person. I would be someone else tonight. I'd be a sexy, outrageous, hot and desirable woman. It had to be that way because it was all a part of the master plan for revenge. When he and I had first made our plans for our hook-up, I imagined I'd have to detach and zone out so I could be with him and not have him suspect that I was only going through the motions. But then, the more we talked about it and the more he convinced me he wanted to be with me the easier it became to truly want to be with him. The fact that I was going to bed with my friend's husband was the ultimate satisfaction, but the fun was going to be mine and a perk that turned out to fit the plan perfectly.

I was inside the lobby now, and heading toward the elevator. I got on as some other people got off
and pushed the button for the twenty-first floor, heading for room twenty-seven-twenty-two. There were no other patrons in the beautifully decorated hallway. The thick carpet muted my footsteps as I walked to my right and toward my destiny.  There it was. And he was behind that door. Waiting for me. I'd gotten a call from him minutes after I'd left home and he took that opportunity to recount the things we would do when we got together.

Taking a deep breath, I knocked softly on the door. He opened it almost instantly. Smiling at me with that drop dead smile of his he stood there looking at me up and down like a hungry dog eyes a meaty bone.

"Hello Claudette".
"Hello Stanford".

"Come in"....


What are your thoughts and comments? Did you see that coming?

Close Encounters of the Veggie Kind...

Ladies have you ever wondered what was going on in a man’s head when you smiled at him? Let me expand on that question with an actual experience I had. Recently, I was in the supermarket doing my shopping and there happened to be a gentleman in the vicinity of the produce section; fresh fruits to be exact. I noticed him from my extra sharp peripheral vision and slowly pick up and inspect a few ripe melons. He’s still pondering over the fresh herbs and I moved slightly to a more advantageous post and I could see he’s selected fresh cilantro. My amateur chef radar alerts me that he’s probably a pretty good cook if he wants to use fresh ingredients and at the moment I think this, he moves over and picks up a few leeks, and fennel.

Bingo! The first instinct was spot on! A guy who appears to know something about cooking. Very impressive. So, I walk away from the melons and amble up beside him (allowing a personal space of a couple of feet) and begin to select some celery and as you reach for a produce bag to gather up a few bunches of scallion and get a look at the third finger left hand and there is no ring. O-kay.  Nice clean well manicured hands, and …wait a minute…do I detect a subtle familiar fragrance around this man? Why yes…I inconspicuously sniff a little lady like “sniff” and I am sure of it. Burberry for Men and it’s one of my favorites colognes to smell on a man.

Alright now…here I go. I’m going to give him an innocent little smile that says "hello, I'm friendly" just to see how he reacts. Oh, have I mentioned how fabulous I looked that day? I had just left the day spa where I had treated myself to the works; facial, hair and eyebrows, mani/pedi. I was wearing a cute Capri set with matching shrug sweater,and open toe shoes to show off my pedi. And I smelt good too. So, I continue to look around a bit until I can catch his eye without having to stare him down thus having him think I'm some kinda grocery store stalker nut. I wish could say that he and I both reached for the same bag of onions at the same time and experienced a moment complete with angelic music from heaven and a star-burst from making eye contact. That definitely did not happen!

What did happen was dude gave me a cursory look with a brief nod and walked away toting his fennel and his leeks and his whatever. You know I really wanted to follow him, swagger up to him and get all up in his face with attitude and say "In case you didn't notice, but your leeks look wilted and are probably not fresh! Humph!" and then strut away giving him my back before he could think of anything to say. That definitely did not happen either!

What did happen was I shrugged it off, mumbled something to myself about him probably being a jerk anyway, put my basket down and left the store. I headed for Starbucks for a Pumpkin Spice latte and by the time I had bought my coffee, added a lemon-almond biscotti to my order I had put dude out of my mind. Maybe another time and another place; it's all good, right?

So I know that you ladies have had similar experiences, perhaps in a laundromat, fast food restaurant, church or at your grand-kids school. Whether or not we made a contact let us be assured that this old reliable tried and true expression can apply to the situation: It's not us...it's them!!

Have a great weekend out there with family and friends, worship at a church of your choosing, and be blessed. We will return on Monday... and we gonna talk some more about Helena and her secret!!

Rock on!!