I snorted my derision; my husband would most likely have called a hooker in – he was too damned lazy in the s*x department to have an actual affair – and by now would be pounding away at expensive, paid-by-the-hour v****a whilst Debbie Does Dallas played its garish colors and cheesy porno music in the background. And I hoped that he’d tip the poor girl well.
I stepped out of the dress, almost catching the tapered strip of latex that had contained my left tit (the outline of my rosebud n****e was there, imprinted on the damp material) on a pointed heel as I teetered to be free of the one single thing that had thus far covered my body.
Once off, I unrolled the dress and laid it carefully on the polished granite counter top next to one of the wash basins and studied my gloriously nude body
