750 Words Story Collection

"I am sorry, Babe," Judy said while sliding beside me in the booth.

"Wow! You are stunning, Baby," I exclaimed as I slid my arm around her shoulders. "It was worth the wait."

For the last six months, we had been meeting every Friday night at the same bar, in the same booth, but on this particular night something was different. She was dressed to the nines, wearing a blue chiffon dress, tan nylons and strappy stiletto sandals. She had her hair and face done to perfection, her nails and toenails painted bright red. She looked at me with a smile I could never resist and softly kissed my lips. My hand slipped onto her nylon-clad thigh, under the hem of her short dress, and as I approached her treasure, I felt my fingers slide from her nylon onto her warm flesh. Feeling the heat from her womanhood made my cock stir in my pants, but before I could touch her panties, she crossed her legs, trapping my hand between her thighs. She leant to my ear, her warm breath sent shivers through my spine as she spoke.

"It isn't for you, Babe," she whispered, and with that, she uncrossed her legs and stood up.

"What are you saying?"

I looked at her questioningly, not sure what she meant. I slid to the edge of the booth to stand up, but she placed her hand on my shoulder to stop me.

"Don't get up, Leo," she said with a smile, then, "Enjoy your drink and don't do anything stupid."

Picking up her drink that I had ordered on my arrival, she took a swig of it and sashayed onto the dance floor, where she began to move to the tune of the music. I watched her enthralled, like many men must have done in the room. Soon, men shuffled to her one by one, trying to engage her, but she rebuffed them all, so they moved on until a well-dressed man entered the bar. I noticed they looked at each other, and her smile reached her eyes. That made me uncomfortable. Her smile for this man was not telling him to go away but rather to come to me, and so he did. Without any hesitation, he took her left hand and wrapped his other arm around her waist. I felt jealousy stir in my heart, and anger boiled in my gut, but I did nothing to stop him. They glanced into each other's eyes for a few seconds before he pulled her against his body like no wife of another man should dance with him. She did not object but instead rested her head on his shoulder as they swayed, ignoring the rhythm of the music.

A couple of songs later, they broke up, and he led her to the bar. She slid onto a bar stool and crossed her legs, which caused the hem of her dress to ride up, showing the welt of her stockings. He did not take the seat beside hers but instead stood in front of her, and her crossed leg dangled between his thighs while his crotch pressed against her knee. She did not object when he placed his hand on her stocking-clad thigh but instead smiled as she watched him talk to the bartender. They talked for some time, sipping their drinks. He casually caressed her thigh, his fingers edging the hem of her dress higher and higher until her flesh became visible above the welt of her stockings. Seemingly she did not object to his actions. Rather occasionally she touched his chest as she spoke. I could not take my eyes off her. The way she behaved saddened me, and I wondered why she had never behaved like that with me. Maybe it was me. Maybe I was too timid to push her boundaries. When they finished their drinks, he held out his hand, helping her off the seat, and they walked towards the exit hand in hand.

I was frustrated, angry, disappointed and most of all jealous. But what was I to do? Stood up to him, made a scene? That would have made things even worse for all of us. If I made a scene, he would have found out about my six-months-long affair with his wife, found out that on Friday nights when he worked, his wife was cheating on him. So, I just watched them leave. After all, he was her husband, and I was her lover.