The three couples had agreed to meet and when Veronica and her husband arrived the other two couples were ensconced on the veranda of the Club, overlooking the immaculate tennis courts and gardens. It was a beautiful, balmy evening, not in the least crowded, unexpectedly, and there was a sense of privilege in the air. As she walked up the back steps leading to the verandah she heard Marcus's deep, booming voice and knew immediately where her friends were seated. She and her husband walked directly to them.
"Did you bring The Herald?" he asked them, a stab at their being late.
They gave their apologies, as was appropriate, and Marcus offered his acceptance of the excuse by way of a remark.
"Come here, gorgeous, sit by me."
It was evident to her that he was in a playful mood, and she was happy to concur; to feed him.
Conversation ensued; the type of conversation that happens amongst three couples that know one another well, but not well enough to talk on topics other than the superficial. The conversation rambled easily from topic to topic, never staying too long on any one topic; nothing meaty or consequential; as anticipated.
A restaurant was mentioned and Marcus noted that he wouldn't go back. It was okay; the food was fine but the restaurant was too loud, he said.
The irony was too much for her. Whilst the others changed topic, yet again, she turned her body and looked directly into his eyes.
"It was too loud for you?"
"Yes."
"It was too loud for you?"
"Yes."
"As I walked up the stairs just now, I knew exactly where you were seated because I could hear your voice so very clearly above all the other voices, but the restaurant was too loud for you?"
Their eyes met. She was enjoying herself.
"You are very cheeky. You have always been very cheeky."
She started to giggle. Appetizer had arrived. Thank God, for she was starving.
"You're naughty. You're a very naughty girl. I can tell."
She was loving this and she giggled her head off.
"How can you tell?"
"It's that glint in your eye. I know a naughty girl when I see one."
"Ohhhh, really??"
The restraint he was using was palpable to her.
"I have such a strong desire to spank you. I'd love to put you over my knee right here, right now."
"You do?"
She was being provocative. She was loving the threat, but she was also weighing up the slight possibility that he was bolshy enough to do it; praying that his wife's presence would stop him dead.
"I'd love to spank your bottom. I know you'd love it."
"I would?"
"You know you would, you little tart. You don't fool me."
She was a mass of giggles, amazed that they'd shared this dynamic without the slightest clue that the others cared a dolt. Whatever they were talking about, it mattered not to them that the two of them were engrossed in a tete a tete.
That they would engage in a sexual dalliance was completely out of the question. It was never going to happen. That they knew one another's natures and enjoyed this game was something they both understood. To know a pervert you have to be a pervert and they were certainly both that.
"Did you bring The Herald?" he asked them, a stab at their being late.
They gave their apologies, as was appropriate, and Marcus offered his acceptance of the excuse by way of a remark.
"Come here, gorgeous, sit by me."
It was evident to her that he was in a playful mood, and she was happy to concur; to feed him.
Conversation ensued; the type of conversation that happens amongst three couples that know one another well, but not well enough to talk on topics other than the superficial. The conversation rambled easily from topic to topic, never staying too long on any one topic; nothing meaty or consequential; as anticipated.
A restaurant was mentioned and Marcus noted that he wouldn't go back. It was okay; the food was fine but the restaurant was too loud, he said.
The irony was too much for her. Whilst the others changed topic, yet again, she turned her body and looked directly into his eyes.
"It was too loud for you?"
"Yes."
"It was too loud for you?"
"Yes."
"As I walked up the stairs just now, I knew exactly where you were seated because I could hear your voice so very clearly above all the other voices, but the restaurant was too loud for you?"
Their eyes met. She was enjoying herself.
"You are very cheeky. You have always been very cheeky."
She started to giggle. Appetizer had arrived. Thank God, for she was starving.
"You're naughty. You're a very naughty girl. I can tell."
She was loving this and she giggled her head off.
"How can you tell?"
"It's that glint in your eye. I know a naughty girl when I see one."
"Ohhhh, really??"
The restraint he was using was palpable to her.
"I have such a strong desire to spank you. I'd love to put you over my knee right here, right now."
"You do?"
She was being provocative. She was loving the threat, but she was also weighing up the slight possibility that he was bolshy enough to do it; praying that his wife's presence would stop him dead.
"I'd love to spank your bottom. I know you'd love it."
"I would?"
"You know you would, you little tart. You don't fool me."
She was a mass of giggles, amazed that they'd shared this dynamic without the slightest clue that the others cared a dolt. Whatever they were talking about, it mattered not to them that the two of them were engrossed in a tete a tete.
That they would engage in a sexual dalliance was completely out of the question. It was never going to happen. That they knew one another's natures and enjoyed this game was something they both understood. To know a pervert you have to be a pervert and they were certainly both that.
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