Chapter 18
Gabe awoke in a dark mood the next morning. As a pretty laid-back sort of guy, it was unusual. But considering what we had ahead of us, it was understandable. We spent the early part of the day doing chores and I enjoyed watching him mow the lawn shirtless. After he showered, we ate lunch quietly and I considered slipping my collar on to lure him into a better mood, but I thought better of it.
After he cleared the table, he looked at me thoughtfully. "It's a pretty warm day for November. Don't you think?" I nodded. "Yes, a little over eighty degrees," I replied. Our eyes met. "Think it's still bikini weather?" he asked. I stood and smiled. "Your slut will wear or not wear, whatever you desire, my love."
Finally, he smiled. "What's the skimpiest bikini you've got?" I batted my eyes seductively at him. "Well, I had a very tiny bikini, but I put it in the garage to be donated as you told me to, with the rest of my lingerie."
"You actually did that?" he asked with his eyebrow up. I leaned in and kissed him. "I did."
He broke the kiss. "Has Andre ever seen that particular swimsuit on you?" I shook my head and looked away. "No, I bought it for another man ... after." His hand slid around my waist. "Let's see it on you."
Fifteen minutes later I stood before him in my teeny blue bikini. The triangles were adjustable to cover or show as much as you wanted. I had pulled them into a strip that only just covered my areolas and pussy. The tent in Gabe's pants showed me how much he liked it. He stood and walked up to me and looked at my face.
"Your makeup is always so perfect," he smiled. I looked at him seriously. "Getting older does force a lady to get good at it."
"You're gorgeous fresh out of the shower, and you know it." He kissed me. "But today, I'd like you to slut it up a bit." I looked at him curiously. He grinned. "I want him distracted. Between the bikini, some alluring makeup, and some high heels, he won't be able to think about much else."
I turned to walk into our bedroom. "What about you?" I asked him. "Will you be able to think about much else?" I swung my hips a bit as I walked. I heard him sigh and he softly said, "With difficulty."
Before we left, I stood before him for his inspection. My blue bikini was barely obscured by a sheer white beach robe. I wore a pair of wedge slip-on heels and added a little jewelry. My makeup was heavier than I usually wore and included dark smoky eye shadow that I had done in the past when I really wanted to be the center of male attention.
"Wow. You look amazingly sexy. Every man's fantasy." The look on his face made me love him even more. I lifted my collar on my finger and offered it to him. "One last detail?" To my surprise, he frowned and walked up to me. He took the collar, turned, and walked into the kitchen. He walked up to the trash can and stepped on the lever, opening it. He dropped the collar in the can.
I gasped. I watched him wide-eyed as he turned to me. "Don't you want ..." I asked him but he waved my comment away. "Leather is for dogs. My slut doesn't wear leather." Our eyes met and his face softened. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a rectangular necklace case.
"My slut, wears silver." He handed me the case and I gasped as I opened it. Inside was a beautiful collar of interwoven links, joined in the middle by a heart-shaped padlock. Engraved on the lock were the words GABE'S SLUT in a fine script. I looked up at him. "Gabe, it's beautiful."
He reached up, took it from the box, flipped it over, and revealed a beautiful heart-shaped emerald on the other side of the lock. "If you want to wear it in public, you can just flip it over." I looked at him in shock. He chuckled, "Don't get too impressed. We had our mid-patrol break in Cartagena, Columbia. They practically sell them on the street there. It's not a very good grade or have good clarity, but I ..."
I interrupted him with a kiss. We kissed passionately for quite a while. "I love it," I whispered. There were tears in my eyes and he saw them. He smiled and cupped my cheek. "I'm glad." I knew from that moment that I was completely, utterly, his.
We pulled into the driveway of my ex-husband's beach house. It's in a community called Wabasso Beach. Years ago, it was mostly occupied by retirees, hippies, and beach bums, but it's become "gentrified". Older, more modest homes have been torn down and three thousand square-foot, two and three-level homes sprang up everywhere. Vacation homes for the wealthy. Andre's home was one of the last of the older homes on the street and I have been there a lot in the past. It's a single-story block home with a Spanish tile roof. It was where he would bring me to entertain his friends and business associates.
A lock box like realtors use, hung on the front door handle. I entered the code and it opened, and the key was there. He rented the place out frequently. The house hadn't changed much. The carpet, drapes, and furniture were still the same. But the wear on all of it was evident. It was a bit of a dump now.
I saw Gabe grimace as we walked through the place. He looked over at me. "I'm not impressed," he said. I knew he would be less so before the night was through.
We sat out on the patio furniture and waited. Gabe asked me about my time with Andre, so I told him a few things about my former marriage as we waited. Gabe's face got grimmer as the sun set. Finally, we heard the front door through the open glass doors.
"Anybody home?" we heard. Gabe rose and with a gesture told me to stay seated.
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