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‘No problem,’ I said. ‘I’ll tell Mr. Franklyn where you are when he comes in’. ‘Don’t bother,’ she said. ‘He’s just stormed out again after I told him I can’t make dinner when I feel like this’. She went upstairs and I took a Coke from the fridge and went into the lounge. After about 20 minutes I need the loo and went up to the bathroom. When I came out I saw her bedroom door was slightly open and I couldn’t resist the temptation of having a peek. She was on the bed still in her dressing gown with her back to the door, fast asleep. It has lifted slightly at the bottom and I could see a curve of a buttock and her thighs. I didn’t even think, I just crept in and lifted the dressing gown very slightly and saw her hairy mound and the slit of her lips between her legs. Her arsehole was also visible as one leg was bent and this seemed to me more erotic and personal than even seeing her vagina. She must have sensed something because she stirred slightly and turned over with an arm raised. The waitress walked by and the stranger signaled to her, he ordered some drinks for them and quickly returned his attention back to my wife and her nylon encased thighs. This time he put his hand much higher up her thigh. He was close enough to feel the heat I was sure was coming from between her thighs. I assumed I would be here for a while, stranded at this lonely table, until she finally wondered where I was and looked around, I would go over when she waved me over. I took a few sips of my drink, watched them flirt and listened to the football game that was playing on the huge TV hanging on the wall behind the pool tables. I watched them laugh and my wife blushed again when the waitress came back to the table with their drinks. The stranger handed the young blonde a twenty and told her to keep the change. I wondered if he would have offered her the same tip had he not been hitting on my wife, but quickly forgot about the waitress when his hand went back under the table to her.
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