Affirmation

"Holy crap, Angela," I gasped when my wife came out of the bedroom wearing a dress I'd never seen before, one that showed off her curves, her breasts, her legs.

"Sweetie," she said with a look of compassion on her face.

"I thought...I thought you were going to Rose," I said.

She nodded. "Yea," she said, "we are."

"People will think...they'll assume...they'll think you on a date," I said.

"Sweetie," she said again.

"But we...you'll...you're going to run into people we know," I said, "didn't you tell him..."

She swallowed, nodded. "He knows," she said, "he...that's why...I mean..."

"That's why what?"

"That's why he said to wear this," she said.

"People will assume...they'll think...they'll assume he...he's..."

"My boyfriend," she said. "It's been six months, sweetie..."

"But people..."

"Shhhh," she said, walking to me, touching my face. "People will assume but they'll be right. This isn't just a fling, this isn't something to be ashamed about. He's proud I'm his, of course he wants to show the world that."

"But people..."

"People will think what they want to think. When see me with you, they'll see where happily married. When they see me with him, they'll see I've got a man in my life. One doesn't take away from the other. I'm still your wife, I'm just, you know, his, too."

I felt the familiar ache between my legs, felt myself swell, swell as much as I could in the small, locked cage. "Angela," I moaned softly.

"It will be late," she said, "you don't have to wait up.

"Angela," I said.

"I'll be quite," she said.

"Angela," I moaned softly.

"What, love?" she asked.

"I...you don't...I mean..."

"You sure?" she asked.

I nodded, wouldn't look at her, wouldn't meet her eyes. 

"You don't have to," she said, "I know it...I know it's not easy to...to do that after he...he's had me."

"I...I will," I said.

"You're so sweet," she said, "I...I like it when you do that, I like you...taking me back, participating in your own way. I know it's not what you imagined when we...I mean...licking me after he..."

"Angela," I blushed.

"After he's had me."

"I...I don't mind," I said, a lie, it wasn't a matter of not minding, it was a matter hating it but loving it, disgusted by it but turned on by it, wanting nothing to do with the mess he left but eagerly licking her clean whenever she asked.