Loverman

All evening I wait. He doesn't show. He phones at midnight to apologise. His wife.
He calls the next morning. Arranged lunch in a resturant in Champs-Elysées. I arrive first, insist on waiting outside. I look out of place with my pink mini-dress and plaits. I wear large dark glasses that I use to partly hide my face and a long baige trench coat that I leave open. If my husbands coleagues were to recognise me in this outfit I can only imagin the looks I'd get from them.
We tirelessly tell each other our dirty stories over lunch. He looks after me like I'm a little girl. He's polite. He encourages me to eat while his bare foot is between my thighs. It must have been an hour before I finish and he suggests we go for drinks.