by Bridy McAvoy
Angie,
That was great. Gray texted me to say how good it was, and how fabulous you looked and, not to put too fine a point on it, what a great fuck you were. He definitely wants to book you again.
The others were good too, but I guess you were the star.
Tonight’s shindig will be a little different, so you need to get ready.
All four of you need to dress the same, wear those black dresses you bought for Friday night. That was your idea and a good one.
Seamed stockings, suspenders, the works. Although I’d like all four of you to wear a hat this time please. Also black. But make the hats different, okay? Maybe a couple of you can have veils too.
Be ready at seven-thirty, the guys are coming in a limo at eight. It’s a stag do.
Robert.
She read it a third time just to confirm her eyes weren’t deceiving her. Robert had arranged another party and it looked very much like the women were supposed to look like the widows they, in reality, were.
She felt her ire rise with her bile as she reached for the phone to ring the other girls to arrange another shopping trip—for the hats. Just before she dialed, she looked at the front door, as if trying to see through the solid wood to the house on the other side of the road.
“Robert! You bastard!"
About The Author
My name is Bridy, and I live in upstate New York. I’ve written for as long as I can remember, which is thanks to my parents for teaching me to read and write before I went to school. I’ve been fascinated by erotic tales all my adult life, my husband thinks they’re silly but indulges me. I won’t tell you how old I am because a lady never gives away her age. My other interest is photography but writing will always be my first love, other than my husband of course.