"What about your husband?" he asked.
Her eyes gleamed. "Let's not tell him. It'll be… our little secret."
"Won't he find the body?"
"Never," she warned, daring him to say more.
Life is good for Michael. He’s a college professor, with a girlfriend half his age. So why is he having an affair? Because he can. Then the nightmares come, and visions of demons haunt him until he is nearly driven mad. Is his girlfriend playing tricks on him? Does she suspect the affair? Maybe he feels guilty about bedding a girl barely out of her teens. Or, perhaps his girlfriend decided to teach him a lesson. It’s a dirty job, but someone has to do it. So much to do… so little time.
He tried to drive the thoughts of the affair from his mind. But it all came back as a fast-paced blur.
Ashley, drunk on white wine, and depressed because her husband didn't make her feel sexy anymore, sat on the bed next to him, her blonde hair tight in a bun.
"I don't know what to do," Ashley said, her voice high-pitched and scared.
"I can't give you an answer about your husband, Ashley," he said.
For a moment, she was silent, and then she released her bun and blonde hair spilled down her back. Standing up, she pulled off the jacket of her white crème business suit and allowed it to fall to the floor. As she unbuttoned her business shirt underneath, he watched in open mouthed horror as she allowed it to fall open and revealed her large breasts that were barely contained in a lacy black bra. He wasn't sure what to do, and he felt his body react, even if he didn't want it to.
"Please do this with me," she begged.
His eyes were filled with her body, and he nodded.
"What about your husband?" he asked, desperate to find a reason to stop. "We shouldn't do this."
She kissed him on the lips and then pulled away, her eyes gleaming. "Let's just not tell him… or Cindy. It'll be okay… our little secret."