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You, a hot female exec, gets off at work.

It was a vision of domestic normality. We both picked at the meal before she went to get ready.

I was padding around behind her like a lost puppy my stomach was churning. It was only now that the full implications of our arrangement were sinking in, and it wasn't nice.

She showered, shaved and plucked. Hair was done, then make-up. Lingerie, skirt, blouse and shoes. She looked stunning. She also looked nervous.

"Are you sure about this?" She asked.

"No" I replied honestly.

"I'm not sure; I know I love you," I could see her emotion but I continued, "I love you but I need you to be happy, I want you to be happy, and I know this is one area which I cannot do that for you. I also know that this is our last chance to be together, or we're finished. Go, do this, I'll be here when you get back. You look fantastic by the way."

With that final comment the tears finally came. This was not something she was prone to; I hugged her. After a minute or so, she turned to the mirror.

"I look like shit!" She said reaching for a face wipe and scrapping the mascara off.

She re-did her make-up and left.

The next 4 hours were the longest of my life. I tried to watch TV. I surfed the Internet. I even drove to his house and sat outside for a while. Nothing could take my mind off what was happening. Nothing could remove the nausea in the pit of my stomach. I drove home, showered and went to bed.

It was a little after midnight when I heard the car pull up to the house. Engine died, key in the door, Caroline's footsteps entered the hall, and headed for the living room. It was a good 15 minutes later that I heard her come up the stairs. Instead of coming into our bedroom, she turned and went in to the spare room; it doubled as a dressing room. I waited. I could hear her moving around, then silence. I waited another 5 minutes and realized she wasn't coming through.

As I opened the door I could see Caroline was in bed. I got in behind her. She did not stir. Moving across the bed to her I put my arm around her, our bodies spooning together, gave a little squeeze, and kissed her shoulder.

"I love you" I said quietly.

At that moment, I just wanted to protect her. She did not reply, but I know she was crying very gently-- trying not to be noticed. We remained in that position for the rest of the night.

* * *

The following evening, as agreed, we had the talk. She had gotten as far as the front door and after ringing the bell she stood there thinking, arguing with herself. She had just decided to leave when the door opened. She went in. The sex had been good but, on this rare occasion, she had not cum because she couldn't completely let go. My instinct told me this was a lie, a lie to make it easier on me, a lie I could live with. I also modified the truth just a little; telling her it was tough but playing down just what a torrid time I had had.

* * *

It was a good 2 months later before her next 'date'. Life had been good during that time.

Again I watched her get ready. Her routine was very much as before until, once again, she was looking fabulous. My stomach was doing somersaults again, not as bad as before, and for the first time, tinged with arousal.

She returned home earlier that night than she had from her first outing. I was waiting for her. When she came in, I literally pounced on her. I kissed her. It was not in a loving way but in a forceful, I'm going to have you--right now--manner. We had rough, almost violent, sex right there in the hallway. It was passionate, but very aggressive. Panties were pulled off - she was violated. It was animalistic, Neanderthal behavior, so out-of character but I had reclaimed what was 'mine.'

"Where did that come from?" She asked once we were done.

"I don't know," I replied with an embarrassed laugh. "It's Ok now, that madman's gone."

"That's a pity!" She said in a humorous, slightly mocking tone, "I kind of liked him."

We laughed, and got up. As I fixed us a drink, Caroline cleaned herself up.

"Tell me all about it.

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