Who: Honey and Open please When: After the bees sting and the doves cry Where: Starting in the elevator Why: Honey goes out, maybe meets someone new? Warnings: Language
In her luxury penthouse, near the top of the world, the beautiful and usually cool wife of Vincent Alexander Laurent sat at her vanity, assessing her appearance which was now splotched in red from crying. An alabaster hand reached out to the fine bristled brush and she began to stroke her hair in even, tempered strokes.
You think she got away from the box full of bees with nary a sting? She’d been stung too, some might say double (thank you very much) and you didn’t see her flailing in the hallway. She’d been her own medical technician and had tweezered her stingers and dotted them with calamine. At least she hadn’t been stung on her face. That wouldn’t have done at all and she would have been on a plane to hell knows where if she had.
Even she had been surprised and a bit dismayed at her anger. Her anger had been wasabi vengeance- green hued with the jealousy of her husband’s indiscretion. Honey was not usually the jealous type you see. She had more confidence than that and a reasonable mind that figured in her true loves propensity for vagina. But this felt different and she had erupted like a Fiji volcano because of it. There was no other course for her to follow but revenge of the most vindictive sort. She had not been herself when she had hatched her plan and she barely remembered wrapping the box while she hummed a merry tune. The only regret was she hadn’t seen the girls reaction when she had happily removed the lid, thinking that the philanderer had risked his reputation to lavish the bitch with presents.
All that for just a kiss….but a kiss was seldom as innocent as it looked. She might not have reacted at all if he had merely stuck his dick in the heifer and been done with it. This kiss was sweet and she knew, behind that damning cell phone picture, there had been sweeter thoughts as precursor and probably whispers of poetic magic that she had somehow thought he reserved only for her. She hated him now as much as she loved him.
Visine was something she could do with right now. She knew he must have some somewhere….so UP from her vanity she fled and went to his medicine cabinet but could not find any. She’d hate to have him discover her tear filled face. In fact she didn’t want him to discover her at all. It was time to give him the cold shoulder…
Out from his bathroom she went, to the coat closet she grabbed her best trench coat. There was one final assessment of herself in the mirror with a lipstick refresh just for her sanity and out she went to get a grip and cure her tired, red stained eyes before anyone could see her look so ghastly.