An Adulterous Angel

From Angelic Adultery
by Scono Sciuto

-TWO-

Today is Friday. He has invited me to his office. He told me to come over for six. I told him I would be there.

I can’t do this!

What am I thinking?

I don’t even really know him.

Yet, I find myself dressing to go and meet. I am wearing a dress with a short hemline, to show my legs, and a plunging neck line, to reveal my breasts.

I’ve only met him once, and that meeting was brief. He was so kind, so caring. He took so much time to listen. He wanted to help. I could tell he wanted me, he regarded me in that way. I am an attractive woman and he gave me an expression I’ve seen many times. I’m married. I have ignored it from others, and I did that day, but, but I didn’t want to.

I can’t do this!

What am I thinking?

I don’t even really know him.

We have chatted on-line many times. He has been engaging, and I have been the same. He has been forward, telling me that although he shouldn’t, he desires to be with me — I have responded in kind. It is harmless, I have told myself, on these flirtations, we will never act.

I have expressed to him I could not accept his invitation. Even if I were to consider acting out these impulses, we would have to meet, have coffee or something — get to know one another a bit better. He told me he knew his desire would only increase, and from prying eyes, he wanted to be hidden.

I can’t do this!

What am I thinking?

I don’t even really know him.

I told him he was so kind, and charming, but I could not. I am married, and he appears to have a wild side. Yet, here I am, getting dressed to please him, to have him both admire and desire, and yes, as much as I am trying to deny it, encourage him.

I am in my car, crossing the bridge, fighting the Friday afternoon traffic. My heart is beating a bit too fast. I keep looking in the rear-view mirror, not just to be sure there is no one following, but to check my appearance. He asked me, that if I came over, not to wear much makeup and please, no lipstick. I usually don’t go out this way — I feel the want to please him.

I can’t do this!

What am I thinking?

I don’t even really know him.

I am here. There are many cars. I hope I don’t see anyone I know. He assured me that although the building would be busy, his office would not. I check myself in the car’s window. I know I am attractive, but there is such a difference our ages. He is so much younger. Will he desire the real me as much as he claims? I have a hint of doubt.

I find his office. The door is open. I pause. Should I go in? I turn and walk away. I take but a few steps and stop. I want to, but I have never been unfaithful.

I can’t do this!

What am I thinking?

I don’t even really know him.

I continue to walk away. I must go. Yet, if I do — I will never know. Our chats lift my days. It is wonderful to be desired. Yet, what if he doesn’t want me when he sees me? The illusion will be broken, the unfaithfulness will only be in our minds and hearts. Our bodies and souls will not have touched.  In the physical sense, we will not be joined.

I take a step, then I turn. Hurriedly, I walk back toward his office. I am standing just outside the door, off to the side. If he looks out, he won’t see me. I am breathing fast — my heart is racing.

Can I go through with this?

I can’t do this!

What am I thinking?

I don’t even really know him.

I want to… I think. I enter the doorway. He looks up from his desk. He smiles. I don’t say a word, neither does he. I am frozen. I look into his eyes. They are so dark, almost black. They hide his intent, still, I can tell he is not disappointed.


“Who am I?”20190630_1305207795170130459536580.jpg

I am an independent, self-published teller of tales,
an author, as of yet, scarcely any renown.
However, as a storyteller, I know who I am,
and with that persona, I am both confident and comfortable. I invite you to visit my website,

ShortStoryScribe.com

and/or Amazon Author Pages

Joe Leonardi              Scono Sciuto

if you are so inclined please purchase a copy and leave a review.

Thank you,

Joe

Buy a Coffee for Short Story Scribe

 

 

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