Out on the Prowl

deviantdeb269So, I finally got my husband’s attention last night. Oh yes. I went out. He came into the bedroom after eating his dinner and I was getting dressed…sort of. I’m wearing a sheer blouse and a mini-skirt. I’m wearing come-fuck-me-pumps and I mean it. My hair is up. I look ten years younger and twice as horny. He looked at me and stopped dead in his tracks. His mouth was literally hanging open, I shit you not. I almost laughed. I’m glad I didn’t. He asked me where I was going. I told him I was going bowling.

“Dressed like that?” he shouts.

“Yes,” I say, “dressed like this.”

“You can’t dress like that to go bowling!” He’s still shouting. I hate men who shout.

“Oh no” I ask, eyes wide. “Watch me.” I say and I look dead at him. “Everybody else will be.”

And I wouldn’t lie to you hear fellas, I’m looking good. I walk right by him and I sling my purse over my shoulder. He comes running behind me and grabs me by the arm. “You’re my wife.” He says. “You’re right, sweetie,, I’m your wife.” And I yank my arm away. “But I’m my own woman.” And I keep on stepping out the door.

I don’t have to tell you I wasn’t going bowling. I don’t have to tell you I was on the prowl. You already know I was looking for a man, for a woman, anybody and everybody to excite me, to delight me, to take me on a wild, erotic adventure. I don’t always do it like that. I’m not spiteful. Most of the time, I’m much more discreet. Most of the time, I come right here, to my babies, the ones who’ve been taking care of me for the past month. Most of the time, I come to you. So how about it, sugars? Call me. Share.

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