Her Only Indulgence.

"You look so beautiful," he told her as she walked out of the bathroom dressed in black garters and flaming red lingerie.
The red clashed magically with her green eyes. It shouldn't have worked but red had always been her colour.

There wasn't a shade of red she couldn't make more beautiful; actually there were few colours she couldn't make more beautiful. That is the thing with frighteningly beautiful people like her; deathly pale skin, sharp facial features and delicate fingers.

She screamed femininity no matter what she wore. But in red, in red transcended all objective notions of beauty and burnt the retinas of onlookers with her fire.

She walked towards him slowly, every clacking sound her heels made against the white marble was met by his deep inhalation. She was the kind of woman that no man, no matter how much of catch, could believe would give him the time of day. She climbed onto his lap and rested her knees against the soft blue fabric of the sheets, even that too abrasive for her alabaster skin.

He leaned in to kiss her and she closed her eyes; like so many of us do. She took a deep breath; like so many of us do. She muttered to herself silently— *it'll soon be over*.

Like so many of us do.

He ran his fingers through her hair as he pulled her closer, and she added the perfunctory sighs that communicated her interest. Her pulled her onto him and she began kissing him around the neck, then down the nape and onto his chest.

With delicate precision of dexterous fingers and the prying eyes of an intruder she removed the tie from around his neck. With her mouth she began to unbutton his shirt; he didn't even notice the lipstick stains she was leaving on the white silk. As she kissed down his chest to his stomach, she moved her fingers towards his trousers. He helped her out and slipped out of them. Pushing her panties aside, she climbed on top of him. She took him with ease but she arched her back and let out a little whimper of pain. She paced herself; moving and grinding slowly at first and then faster and faster until he gripped onto her thighs and his face contorted into pained features.

"Cum for me, baby," she cooed to him, "I'm sooo close."

She exploded in feigned moans as he exploded inside her. She collapsed on his chest and purred. He ran his fingers through her hair.

"I love you baby," she whispered to him.

"I love you too," he said before getting off the bed.

A little while later she lay next him to in a red satin nightgown and scrolled through her phone as he read.

"What are you doing tomorrow?" He asked her.

"I have an audition in the morning," she told him, "It will probably take all day."

"How are you getting there?" He asked her.
"Don't really know," she told him looking up at him from the corner of her eye.

"Take my car baby," he said stroking her face, "I'll take the other one."

The next morning she left the house a few hours after he did. He'd left his credit card next to the car keys on the dining room table.
She smiled.

*'Too soon,'* she thought.

She left the card there and walked out with the keys. She drove out onto the highway intermittently checking the rearview mirror to see the people behind her. Paranoia and extreme caution had become a force of habit.

She stopped on the way to buy a few pairs of shoes; she studied the four different credit cards in her wallet and smirked. She debated between two and finally went with the platinum.

'*He wouldn't even notice*,' she thought to herself as they swiped the card and packed her shoes.

She left the store a little after noon and began driving in the opposite direction. She arrived at her destination after thirty minutes of gruelling traffic. She studied herself in the mirror as she parked. She removed a lipstick from her huge black handbag and pouted as she repainted her mouth. The red lipstick went beautifully with her short white dress and shoes. She ran a brush through her hair before she left the car.

He was waiting for her at their *usual* table.

"You look breathtaking," he said to her standing up as she approached the table.
"Thank you, love," she said in her deep throaty voice as she settled into the chair he had pulled out for her.
"I feel like it has been ages since I have seen you," he told her clasping her fingers and looking at her face.
"I know darling," she said looking down at the table for just a moment before looking back up into his eyes, "It's been really hard for me with you spending so much time with your wife."

His face acquired a darkened look of pain as hee stared at her for just a moment before she adapted the same look.
"I can't help it, you know," he said the guilt suddenly evident on his face, "With the baby on the way and all."
"It's okay, love," I understand she said doing a remarkable rendition of accepting neglect, "Anything you can give me is enough for me."
"I know it won't mean the same as my time," he said to her, "but I did get you something."
He brandished a red velvet box and pulled out a beautiful string of white pearls from inside it. He got up and put it around her neck.
"You didn't have to do this," she said looking just slightly embarrassed and grateful at the same time. She ran her red nails through the string slowly; the delicacy of her fingers rivalling the delicacy of even the pearlus.
"I also got us our room upstairs," he said kissing her ear before sitting back down at the table.

She left the hotel early in the evening. She hurried to the gym as she looked at her watch. On the way she called her boyfriend and told him about her failed audition earlier that day. She told him she was too depressed to come over and would be going straight home.
"I'll drop off your car and call a cab," she told him.
"Don't be crazy baby," he said concern dripping from his voice, "Bring it around when you come over next."

Later in the evening as she left the gym after her two-hour long strenous workout, she checked her phone. Her brow furrowed slightly as she realize she had scheduled two dates for the next day. As she drove home she called one of them and informed him of how ill she was that evening.
"Can I do anything darling?" He asked.
"No," she said carefully avoiding the tone of self-pity, "I'm fine, love."

As soon as she got home she retreated to the bathroom for a hot shower; the hot water felt nice against her skin. It was one of the fee things that actually felt nice against her skin.
Just as she got out and slipped into a loose evening home dress, the doorbell rang.
"Right on time," she said to herself smirking, "Tell a man you don't want anything because you're sick, and there he is at your door."

She wrapped a blanket around herself and put on a morose expression as she walked to the door slowly. He walked in and hugged her. She shifted uncomfortably under the blanket but only because he wouldn't be able to feel that.
"What's wrong with my baby?" He asked, "You look terrible."
"Just caught a chill, I suppose," he said, "I really just want to go to bed."
"I know, love," he said guiding her to the white couch in the living room, "I just wanted to bring you a box of your favorite chocolates."

An hour later, once he left, she poured herself a glass of wine and sat on the balcony of her flat and admired the view. The lights looked so pretty from that height.
She brought a box of those Belgian chocolates from the closet in which she stored them.
The chocolate was really her only indulgence.

She put her feet up against the ledge on the balcony and admired her toes before putting a piece to her mouth. The taste filled her mouth, coating her tongue and overwhelming her sense of taste; she let out a low, deep moan.
The only genuine moan of her day.
*Everyday.*