Chapter 21 Branded by Lover

Chapter 28, Branded by Edward

My transition on the night I changed from girl to woman continued under Edward’s tutelage. While our time together was limited, he wanted to control the attire, perfume, jewelry, and cosmetics I wore. He went shopping for my adornments and even visit a cosmetics kiosk, confer with the salesgirl, purchase what she suggested and then apply it on me at his apartment. He was an artist with me his canvas.

About once a month, he insisted on re-dressing me in a new outfit, usually semi-formal attire from shoes to accessories. His propensity was for pencil dresses.

He also was fond of mini-dresses and skirts, usually flared or of pencil design. He enjoyed looking at my thighs when I got in, out or sat in his Porsche. Sitting in the bucket seat, he loved to look down as he shifted and glance at my thighs to catch a glimpse of a panty he’d bought.

He loved me in lace and bright colors. He claimed my complexion made me one of few who could dress in the color violet. Material texture was particularly important to him and often determined his attire selection based on its tactile feel.

On a Friday night date, I arrived in work clothes without makeup to provide Edward a clean slate but also to deflect hubby suspicions. At Edward’s, I stripped, he fussed re-dressing me from lingerie, dresses, blouses, skirts, and shoes in front of a wall mirror with an accumulation of adornments in his apartment. Dressed, he applied makeup and combed my hair, then chose the evening’s earrings, bracelet, necklace, and hair clasp. Satisfied with my presentation, we went out to dinner. Afterward, I was partially unwrapped until the eventual trysting on the waterbed with the latest adornment left on for his stimulation.

Before I returned home in work clothes, I showered, removed all makeup, and waltzed in my home before the night met the morning sun.

If he was too time stressed to go out for dinner, I cooked while he dove into his medical texts after my dress up. I loved the attention. While cooking, I flouted with the newest adornment to distract him from his studies. Typically, he’d suddenly look away from his books, start staring at me, jump up and take me fast and furious in a tempo that competed with hubby’s response time to my belly dancing.

Edward wanted me to wear things he bought for me when not with him. I couldn’t obey. I left most of his adornments as an expanding collection in his apartment. I took home only what hubby could assume I’d purchased and chose items which would also trigger his fast and furious responses. It was another level of my infidelity.

Edward tutored on culture, style, manners, goals, even the way to speak. It was part of my rebranding. I read the novels and listened to the music he suggested. After six months, he gave me a sapphire ring with diamonds. It was beautiful and too expensive.

It was his attempt to remove my wedding ring. I refused. It vexed him I wore it on my right hand with my wedding ring staying on the left. When not with him, I took Edward’s off and hid it. When hubby discovered its hiding spot, a pocket of one of my coats, I told him it was made of synthetic stones, and I’d purchased it from a girl at work for twenty dollars. He didn’t believe me and remained suspicious. The ring vexed both men.

Edward avoided vulgar words and used proper terms when talking about sex, even when talking dirty to one another during sex. His favorite singer was Tom Jones and he got me the record, Say You Will Stay Until Tomorrow.

Eventually he wanted to visit my home. I declined. I worried hubby, the children, neighbors, or friends would see his Porsche in the driveway. I knew he was attempting to invade hubby’s territory, a level of betrayal I couldn’t stoop to.

In response became obsessed on visiting the house, claimed he only wanted to see its furniture and décor. He’d, drive past it and ask personal questions about its interior finish. Pertinacious in demanding to see the inside, I gave in for a quick walkthrough to see my decorating. Instead, as expected, he attempted kiss me in the hallway.

I threw up my hand to cover my mouth and rushed outside. Like taking off my wedding ring, it was a line I couldn’t cross. Relief swept me as his car drove off in a jealous huff. Standing in the driveway as it popped into second gear with a squeal of tires as he sped off, I felt stupid because I was.

I’d violated our family home. My husband would never be able to live there if he knew Edward entered our house even with the attempted kiss nixed.

Afterward. Edward bought a wine storage rack and a mirror for the house, his attempt to still invade it. He said to think of him when I drank wine and that he was in the mirror and every time I peered into it, he was admiring me. I left the wine rack in the garage.

In a twist of depravity, the mirror ended up as part of my marriage waterbed. After I told hubby girls at work waterbed stories, he made one and unknowingly used the mirror as part of the headboard. While lovemaking we could watch ourselves. Edward could too if what he said was true, but it wasn't.

I concealed my affair from my close friend Julie. A spy, however, needs a handler. There was only one affair confidante, the older woman at work who I helped meet her alignment quotas. In exchange, she provided confidential advice, was nonjudgmental and provided the perspective I needed. She warned me about losing a long-term good husband for a short time good lover, advice she failed to heed when younger. Her warning made me redoubled my camouflage efforts.

My marriage underwent fundamental changes. No longer the submissive wife, hubby and I argued when we never did before. He was constantly sexually aroused but in a state of anxiety over my affection. My fobbing off Edward’s gifts as things I purchased failed to quell his suspicions, suspicions that were justified. There was not just another but another me. The woman he married was no longer the woman he was married on the altar. Our original marriage was over. We were in a new marriage both of us were struggling to adjust to.

There was, however, a part of our original marriage intact. Only Squirt spewed semen into me. Edward’s Sir Lancelot in his condom didn’t, Cobra’s perverted rationalization of faithfulness.

Edward knew I had another life, but never asked about my family. Keeping my married puppet shadow life separate was simple, never bring in up but assumed there was no need to conceal it. When I was with him it was only, he I paid attention to. Mistakenly, I assumed he wasn’t jealous what my other puppet shadow did and erred by co-mingling my guppies.

On Valentine's Day hubby bought me a sheer red panty brief with embroidered heart.

The next morning, I called Edward before a “T nooner”.

"You awake?"

"Yes, Sweetie Pie. What's up?"

"Are you still in bed?"

"No, I'm munching toast. It would be better munching you."

"Get back in bed. I'm coming over. Tell Sir Lancelot, I got a surprise for him."

"What kind of surprise?

"If I tell, it won’t be a surprise. Just stay in bed and don't get crumbs on the sheets. I just cleaned them"

Racing over with the panty on, skipping my usual Mall parking lot drive-through security, I let myself in with the key I now had, scampered up to his bedroom and put my finger to my lips as I entered his bedroom.

"Shhh, stay in bed! I got your surprise."

I lifted my skirt and flashed the panty, slowly turned around and flouted it with a few old belly dance moves.

Fluttering close, as he watched, he reached over, grabbed me, and pulled me into bed. Still dressed, including shoes, he pushed the crotch aside and we romped hard. Finished we lay next to one another and he commented.

"I like my Valentine’s present but you’re a day late."

"Lance like it."

"Look's great. Where’d you get it?'

"Don't question a present."

"Tell me, where?"

"A gift."

"Gift? Who? Who buys you panties? Are you seeing another?"

"Don't be silly."

"Well, who?"

"Oh, don't worry my suspicious Sir Lancelot. It was hubby”

"Take it off! Take it off! Give it to me! I don't want you to wear it."

After stupidly telling the truth, struggling to get it off past my shoes, he grabbed it, roughly finished pulling it off, got up and tossed it in the bathroom wastebasket. Back in bed, he pushed my legs apart and forced his way in as I protested. Mounted, he sucked on my neck and gave me a hickey as I squirmed to get him to stop.

It was like what my husband did after my, "We screwed" admission. Edward re-staked his claim of me.

Once he finished, I felt my neck, got up with the excuse of needing to pee and looked in the bathroom mirror. He left a big red blotch, marking me as his. Branded with his hickey I retrieved the panty and hid it in my bra. When I came out of the bathroom, he’d already gone downstairs. I descended the stairs and informed him.

"I need to rush home."

"I'm sorry, I'm really sorry Sweetie Pie. Forgive me."

'No, it was a mistake, my mistake. I'm sorry I upset you."

I left, taking blame for date rape, verified with his unwanted hickey.

Some girls at work unabashedly showed off a hickey. I wore a turtleneck for a week. Hubby stared but said nothing after my desperate explanation a broom handle was the cause. Edward was apologetic when he called and didn’t mention the rescued panty. He asked what my husband's reaction was, not mentioning but inferring the hickey. I told him he never noticed which made him feel better.

I re-learned guppies need to be kept separate to avoid an imbroglio which could upend all my machinations of serving two men.

In response to the red panty fiasco, Edward took me to a lingerie shop at Town and Country Village in Palo Alto, an upscale little shopping center, and bought risqué hipsters embroidered with cheeky, "Ring My Chimes", "Please, Please Me", "Make Me Purr", "Stroke My Fire", "Pull Down To Open", “Try It You’ll Like It” and "Shake And Bake. One even had a zippered crotch. They proclaimed Miss Puki was Lance’s.

Hubby, fascinated with my logo underwear, asked where I got them. I said K-Mart. He went there and couldn’t find any like them. I said it was a closeout. Even though he suspected something, he was aroused if I wore them. When he took me wearing them they became Squirt’s.

To avoid slipping on gift lies, I bought Edward and hubby identical presents. In response to the Valentine snafu, I bought them identical boxer shorts with little printed bugles. After they had each worn theirs, I switched them and smiled seeing them prance about with each other’s on.

While kept segregated, there was a cross-influence creep. The flow of intermix was more towards my husband. I upgraded his attire and aftershave, changed his hairstyle and introduced things like sushi, cheeses with toast and red wine.

Wearing panties each preferred and comingling their briefs, Cobra two-timed both yet assured both she was theirs.

Author Notes: The struggle of placating 2 men results in my betraying both.

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