Message-ID: <11419eli$9805191147@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: greywolf46@juno.com (Grey Wolf) Subject: {ASSM} The Wild Side (plot) Chapter 1&2 Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <19980518.173923.23990.3.greywolf46@juno.com> A word of warning....if you are looking for a “quickie”, don’t bother with this story. I write because I enjoy it. I enjoy the characters, the plot, and the anticipation of what will happen next. I planned to post only part of this story....then thought “screw it” and posted the whole thing. I realize it may be too long for some’s taste, but what can I say......I can’t help myself . If you want to skip straight to the hotter stuff, feel free. I welcome your questions, comments, and suggestions. Hey, even if you just want to say “Hello” feel free to drop me a line. As usual, email responses have a better chance of being seen than responses posted to the newsgroup. Hope you enjoy the story! Blessings, Grey Wolf greywolf46@juno.com This story is copyright 1998 by Grey Wolf. It may not be reproduced in any form for commercial purposes, but may be distributed freely provided that my name and email address remain attached. This story depicts adult situations and strong erotic themes. If you are below the legal age to view such material where you live, or you do not wish to read it, consider yourself warned. The Wild Side by Grey Wolf --------------------------------------- Chapter 1 “Are you even listening to me?” she asked. “Hmm?” he grunted absently from behind the copy of The Wall Street Journal. Bridget glared at the wall of newsprint that shielded her husband from her across the breakfast table. She drummed her manicured nails on the tablecloth and waited for him to acknowledge her. As usual, that moment never came. “I was SAYING, why don’t we go up to the lake this weekend. It would do us good to get away for awhile.” “You know I can’t get away right now,” he said, his voice a blend of disinterest and mild annoyance. “The Parkinson deal is closing a week from Monday, and I have to meet with the attorneys all week to finalize the details.” He turned the page of the newspaper as he spoke, never once lowering it enough to make eye contact with his wife. Bridget sighed loudly, and pursed her lip in her best pout. That maneuver used to be her secret weapon. Men could not resist the “pouty little girl” look. But since Bill couldn’t see her, she did it more from a force of habit than anything else. Even when they weren’t separated by a newspaper, Bill didn’t seem to SEE Bridget at all anymore. She unconsciously trailed her spoon through the uneaten eggs on her plate as she thought. It infuriated her to be ignored. She had never been able to stand that. Her marriage to Bill had been good in the early years, but for the past few they had become more like roommates, than lovers. “So, you are flying off to Tahoe, and just leaving me here alone again?” “Business is business, hon,” he answered. “If you’re bored, why don’t you drive up to the lodge with some of your friends?” “But I wanted to go with YOU,” she purred. Her slippered foot slid beneath the table and edged up into the leg hole of Bill’s slacks, rubbing his ankle. “Maybe we can go next month,” he said, moving his leg back out of her reach, “after things calm down a bit.” Bridget fought back tears as her husband rose from the table, downed the last of his coffee, and walked to the door. “Is SHE going to Tahoe?” The words were out before Bridget realized what she had said, and they hung there in the air like smoke. Bill physically stiffened for a moment. His back was toward her, but Bridget knew that his jaw muscles were clenching they way they always did when he was annoyed. “I’ll try and give you a call from the hotel tonight,” he said brusquely, his eyes still avoiding her as he walked out of the breakfast nook and out to the garage. Bridget sat alone at the table. The huge house was as quiet as a church. The branches of the oak trees swayed in the morning breeze as she looked out the large bay window into the back yard. The crystal clear water of the pool glinted in the bright sunshine, but Bridget felt as if a dark cloud had covered everything. No matter what she tried, Bill had become more and more distant and uninterested in her. 14 years ago, she had been the happiest girl in the world. William Wentworth III, 10 years her senior, had literally swept her off her feet when she was a new assistant with the firm. Romance, adventure, a rich lifestyle.....it had all seemed like a dream to a young girl right out of college. And now, she was more alone than she ever could have imagined. All the money and all the parties in the world could not take the place of the romance and passion that had drained away from their marriage over the years. And now, Bill had taken to going on week long business trips accompanied by his secretary, Brenda. It would have been one thing if the matter had been handled more discreetly, but Bill’s infidelity was common knowledge around the influential Brentwood social scene. Bridget pretended in public not to know about her husband’s extracurricular activities, but the shame of the public humiliation was almost too much for her to bare. She had redoubled her efforts to save their marriage when she first began to suspect her husband of cheating. Bridget had even suggested that they go and see a marriage counselor about the problem, but Bill had just grunted and discounted the idea. Instead, he had suggested that she take a class in folk dancing at the community college if she was so bored. Folk Dancing. “Fucking Bastard,” Bridget muttered through a mist of tears. “Que?” came a quizzical voice from behind her. Bridget jumped in her seat at the sound, spilling her orange juice. “Shit! Maria, you startled me!” she said turning to look at the plump little maid that had entered the room. “I am sorry, Mrs. Wentworth,” answered the Hispanic woman, “but I didn’t think you were still here. Will you be going out today?” “Yes. Marjorie and Beth are meeting me for lunch at The Club to talk over plans for the Arts Festival.” Maria glanced up at Bridget as she dabbed up the spilled juice from the white tablecloth. “Are you all right Mrs. Wentworth?” she asked, a look of concern on her warm face. Bridget’s deep blue eyes were slightly red from the tears that she had refused to allow to fully flow. She sniffed and looked away from the older woman’s stare. “Yes.....I’m fine, just my allergies acting up a bit,” she lied. She rose from the table and pulled her silk robe more firmly closed about her body. “Oh, and Mr. Wentworth will be out of town this weekend again, ....... so I’m driving up to the Lake Lodge this evening. Why don’t you take the weekend off and go see your grandchildren. There is no need for you to hang around here with us both gone,” Bridget said as she walked away toward the hallway. “You are going by yourself, Mrs. Wentworth?” the old woman asked, the motherly look of concern still present on her face. Bridget smiled as she looked back at the dark skinned woman who had become more like an Aunt than an employee to her. “I’m a big girl, Maria,” she said. “I can take very good care of myself. You just go and have a good weekend with the little ones,.... and don’t worry about me.” ---------------------------------------------- Chapter 2 Bridget stood on the flagstone deck of the swimming pool, the summer sun drying her tan body even in the early morning light. The water of the pool was clear and bright as it lapped against the sides of the unusual pool. Bill had paid an exorbitant amount of money for the installation, but the effect was dramatic. Natural stone and plants melded around the perimeter of the water, with a cozy whirlpool/jacuzzi built into the end near a huge boulder strewn waterfall. At night, the image was particularly impressive, with hidden lights above and below the water giving a magical, romantic feeling. They used to play together here quite frequently. “Used to” being the operative words. Bill and Bridget had not been swimming, much less “playing” together in the pool for a long time. In fact, as near a she could remember, it had been over a year since they had even made love together. And even longer since Bridget had achieved an orgasm from their unions. Their lovemaking had never been what one would call “adventurous”. Bill had always preferred straight forward, quiet, simple sex, and always in the dark. Bridget would have given anything just to have that little bit of excitement back. The passion and spark were just not there. Bill was more like a robot when it came to sex now, and she was sure that the only reason he tried at all was from some sense of obligation. Which, of course, made it all that much more unenjoyable for Bridget. The few close friends that she had confided in about her dilemma all gave her the same advice.....leave him. Bridget knew that she should, but the thought of being alone frightened her. Not from a financial standpoint, but from an emotional one. She needed to be loved.....almost as much as she needed to love someone. She often fantasized about being swept away by a hero......like those men in the cheap romance novels. Someone who would bring the vibrance and the passion back into her life. “Where’s MY knight in shining armor?” she mused. She turned slightly and caught her reflection in the tinted windows of the house. She studied her profile in the glass, as if it would somehow reveal an answer to her problems. She was tall, about 5’10”, with long black hair that curled in soft ringlets when she wore it down and loose. Years of aerobics and tennis had done more than just fill the empty moments of her life; her body was the type achieved by most only through the magic of cosmetic surgery. At 36 years old, Bridget looked closer to 26. Her skin was smooth and her flesh firm, as the tiny black bikini displayed freely. Her breasts were not huge, but they were well formed and didn’t droop. As she looked at herself, Bridget arched her leg and pointed her toe to accentuate her favorite feature,...her legs. Long and curved, she had always enjoyed the fact that men noticed her legs. She had a closet full to the brim with various styles of pumps and heels to insure that her legs were displayed to the best advantage whenever she went out. Bridget slid the Raybans down to the tip of her nose, revealing a startlingly beautiful pair of blue eyes. “Well.....the package seems to be holding up all right,” she muttered, “So maybe I DO need to find a more appreciative customer.” She glanced at the sun as it rose in the late morning sky. “Gotta hurry if I’m gonna make it in time for the “hen scratching”.” That was the term the close-knit group of women at the Brentwood Country Club used to describe their meetings. Most of them considered themselves “business widows”, whose husbands were so preoccupied with making money that they paid little attention to their wives activities. Their outings were harmless enough. Shopping and Shows, mostly. Occasionally, they would flirt with strangers in the private bar at Brentwood, but it never went farther than that. Today was Friday, and Bridget was going to be late for the usual lunch meeting at The Club if she didn’t hurry. Walking to the French doors off the pool deck area, Bridget opened them and stepped into the master bedroom of the palatial home. The room was dark and cool in contrast to the bright warmth of the patio. Thick white carpet cushioned her feet as she walked noiselessly to the walk-in closet beside the bed. “Hmmmmm....What to wear?” she thought to herself. She leafed through the racks of outfits lining the walls of the closet. She would probably be leaving for the lodge right after lunch, so she should probably just dress in slacks and a blouse, with some comfortable shoes. But she didn’t feel like being practical today. She pulled out a long slinky black strapless dress, with a long slit up the side. Then hesitated and put it back. “That’s a little TOO much,” she giggled aloud. “Ahhh...that’s it.” Bridget selected a light summery dress with a subdued floral pattern. The collar was high and wrapped around her neck with an opening that framed the hollow at the base of her throat and the upper swell of her breasts. The waistline was perfect for showing off her hour-glass figure with the hem of the dress reaching about to her knees. Just enough to showcase her legs with the addition of the pair of white leather pumps that she pulled from the shelf as she left the closet. Tossing the dress and shoes on top of the bed, Bridget padded over to the dark oak dresser. She slid the top drawer open and studied the lingerie before her, absently chewing her lower lip as she made her selection. “What difference does it make what underwear I pick?” she thought to herself. “Nobody is going to see it anyway.” She reached for a pair of cotton briefs and a standard white bra, but her slender hand hesitated in mid motion. “No,” she whispered aloud, “my Knight will find me someday. And it wouldn’t do at all for me to greet Him wearing Grandma Undies.” She smiled to herself as she ran her hands over the delicate black satin and lace bra and thong set that lay in one corner of the large drawer. Any man she met at The Club during lunch would be off limits. Even if she gathered the courage to act on her passionate urges, she would not be as crass as Bill had been. Once at the Lake Lodge, she probably wouldn’t see another soul......so the odds of her finding her “hero” were virtually null. Still, even the thought of a possible romantic, sensual encounter was enough to warm her in places that had long been neglected. She removed the flimsy items, pushed the drawer half closed, and then opened it again. Reaching to the back of the drawer, Bridget probed until she found the garter belt and a pair of sheer stockings. “Might as well go for broke,” she giggled. _____________________________________________________________________ You don't need to buy Internet access to use free Internet e-mail. Get completely free e-mail from Juno at http://www.juno.com Or call Juno at (800) 654-JUNO [654-5866] -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----