Passionate Love Stories

Perhaps she made him watch when she stood up from the table and slowly peeled off her dress. Perhaps she offered her body as a gift: head held high, breasts out, hands running along its curves. Perhaps she was wearing stockings for the occasion; leg raised on a chair, rolling them down one at a time. Perhaps she hid her breasts behind her bra for an instant before lowering it to reveal swollen nipples. Perhaps, after sliding down her panties over her hips, she stepped out of them slowly and teasingly kicked them away.

It’s conceivable that she climbed onto his lap and looked deeply into his eyes. It’s reasonable to imagine that their lips met and lingered; then parted unhurriedly as he welcomed her tongue. It’s feasible that she planted a line of soft, light kisses from the side of his mouth down to his shoulder, nibbling his ear along the way. Quite possibly she travelled back to his mouth, where a deep tongue kiss from him became a first penetration.

It’s likely that her husband didn’t suspect what she had to do to keep herself occupied while he was away working on the mines. It’s likely that he couldn’t have imagined her lying spread-eagle on the bed, clutching at the pillows, sweat trickling down her brow. Likely too, is it that he couldn’t have envisaged her handing over a small roll of cash to seal the deal.

Or did she? Maybe on those sultry summer afternoons, when the heat made women dreamy, when the scent of gardenias mixed with the aroma of meatloaf in the oven, when wedded women pretended they were free and young girls pretended something else entirely, perhaps anything could happen.