Husband or Handler [part two]

Her Pink Shoes by Summerhill Lane

Warning content and language may offend some. 18+ please

Husband or Handler [part two]

Scene: The Lounge

He slid in across from her on the bench seat at the Riverdale Glenn Bar, an upscale lounge with a live band playing Hip Hop music in the shadows.  He looked good, so good. Relaxed. His blue eyes sparkling, his full lips upturned in a genuine smile.

This was the first date they had had in over a year.  The first time they had laid eyes on each other to be more accurate.  She missed him so much that even this little distance between them was too far.  Why didn’t he sit beside her?  He was her husband after all. 

We have someone else joining us this evening Imogen, otherwise I would be beside you with my eager octopus hands roaming all over your glorious body”.

This was news to her.  He never mentioned another person being part of their reconciliation.  Couldn’t they just have some alone time to get reacquainted?  Imogen didn’t say a word and just smiled and raised her eyebrows in a mock show of interest.  There was no conversation between them now.  There wasn’t time for it.

Person three glided in beside him and his eyes lit up.  They kissed and hugged each other; an intimate moment passed between them.  They knew each other very well; Imogen could tell by the way their bodies merged.  A stab to the heart and to her gut.  She wanted to hold onto herself and scream, but she didn’t react and only smiled as she made eye contact with this stranger.  Yes, she was a beautiful woman, voluptuous and sexy in a dumb blond kind of way although she was not blond but had long dark hair cascading down her shoulders and her eyes were dark as well.  Not dumb either she could tell. This woman was very different from Imogen.  Maybe I am just jealous that he has inserted this woman into our time together.  She analysed her emotions brewing inside as a rage was taking her over blocking out all other self talk. 

“Relax my darling Imogen (she could hear his voice in her left ear) just breathe and let’s see where this night will lead us”.

Her husband and the dark haired woman (Imogen couldn’t retain her name even though they had been introduced) left the table and went to the dance floor somewhere out of her eyesight.  The music was very danceable and normally she would have been out there herself swaying and flowing to the rhythm and beat.  But not today.  The rage enveloped her and made her sit tall in her seat. 

She should leave, run away is what she wanted to do.  Remove herself from this unbearable situation.  Always her go to response was to flee.  Fuck him!!  How could he be so cruel and uncaring.  Was this another of his tests to get a reaction from her?  Once he asked her to do something to deceive him before he would see her.  She had to ask if she heard him right?

“You want me to do something to deceive you before you will see me?  Always with the tests and the delays.  He could push her buttons like no one she had ever known.  Why did she continue to love him and want him and need him?  It puzzled her completely. 

Her anger was a foreign thing and she didn’t know what to do with it.  A large stiff drink was an option, but she didn’t drink.  A large stiff cock was another option, but the one she wanted was on the dance floor with another woman.  Run away her mind said. 

Someone approached and sat beside her.  She knew him.  They had met one time before.  “Imogen, it is so very good to see you again.  I have never forgotten you and how you made me feel.” 

Gareth was her husband’s cousin.  This must be a set up and a re-enactment of a previous threesome.  That time she was the woman in the middle.  Oh, I get it.  My husband wants his foursome!    

To be continued…..

Published by summerhilllane

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8 thoughts on “Husband or Handler [part two]

  1. Passion Still Comes Now From
    Feelings More Than Reasons

    Reasons Why Fall And

    Wilt Over

    To Passion


    Roses Now

    HiGHeR RiSinG

    Summerhillane Yes Lanes

    CoLoRinG FLoWeRinG More
    At Least in Dance Floor Life Then

    Flowers Are Bending Over And Life Is RiSinG

    At Least in Dance Hall Life Then Before Covid-19

    DiSEaSE Doesn’t Do Much For Flowers or Bees

    Yet THeRe Is Still Art of Poetry And All Other Arts

    Never Any



    PeTaLS FLoWinG NoW MoRE ReaL
    iN iMaGiNaTioN SPRinGinG EaSE Yes!
    FaLLinG RiSinG FLoWeRinG MoRENoW
    SoFTesT CoLoRinG FLoWeRS Do BRinG
    YES! GReaTesT THorns To Roses RiSinG
    POuRinG Rain Green Out of Desert Brine..:)

    Liked by 1 person

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