Eighty Days Red Read Online Free PDF Page B

nursing a beer and an orange juice.
‘Where did you come across them?’ Dominik whispered.
‘Online, of course. All the best people trawl for sex online, these days.’
Dominik had, but then that felt like another life now.
The man, likely in his mid-forties, wore a grey suit and had probably come here straight from his office, while his younger wife, a pale-looking brunette with a fringe, wore her Saturday-night regulation little black dress with just an inch too many of cleavage on display. She looked up, acknowledging Dominik’s presence, a faint smile of satisfaction on her lips, her eyes lighting up, as if reassured he was actually good-looking, having been prepared for rougher fare.
‘I like your shirt,’ she said.
‘So lovely to see you both,’ Lauralynn exclaimed as she extended her hand to greet their presence. Only the man reciprocated. Dominik followed suit. The man’s grip was weak and damp and the woman just sat there, blushing slightly. The man’s eyes were fixed on Lauralynn who was wearing a white T-shirt through which her hard nipples pressed, standing at attention. Instead of jeans, she had for the occasion changed into a figure-hugging pencil skirt. There was a sense of relief on the man’s face, as if he had been worried that his internet interlocutor might actually have been a guy masquerading as a woman and he now breathed easier seeing that Lauralynn was truly female, and, Dominik guessed, identical to the photo she would have sent him. A nude one, he expected, aware of her developed sense of mischief.
Dominik assumed that his participation had been prefaced by just a summary description as he didn’t believe Lauralynn stored any images of him, whether dressed or undressed, on her laptop. She had evidently advertised herself as principal bait, and he merely came as extra.
‘Likewise,’ the guy said.
They sat on the wooden bench, facing the couple across the pub table.
‘So you’re Kevin,’ Lauralynn said, ‘and you must be Liz?’
The young woman nodded. Surely not their real names?
Dominik just smiled at the two of them, hoping his appearance was in accordance with the unique selling points Lauralynn had no doubt promised the couple during their online contacts.
‘And you are?’ Kevin asked. ‘You never told me your name in your mails.’
‘Ah, are names really that important?’ Lauralynn pointed out, dismissively. ‘Just call us Him and Her, no?’
‘Why not,’ Kevin said. ‘Can I get you drinks?’
Dominik remained silent. He still didn’t know what Lauralynn had arranged with the couple. Were Kevin and Liz novice swingers? He thought so.
Kevin walked over to the bar to fetch the glasses.
‘So what do you do, Liz?’ enquired Lauralynn.
‘I’m a secretary.’
‘How interesting.’ Lauralynn flashed her a flirtatious smile. ‘So, this is your first time.’
The young woman nodded, her eyes turning to Dominik.
‘His idea or yours?’ Lauralynn continued.
‘Hmm … both of us,’ she replied, fidgeting in her seat.
‘Come on, really?’
Liz nodded, but Dominik remained unconvinced.
The drinks arrived, followed by a moment of uncomfortable silence.
Lauralynn later told Dominik that this sort of situation was far from uncommon. Many men harboured the fantasy of seeing their wives or girlfriends fucked by another man, either out of deep-seated voyeuristic compulsion or the desire to be humiliated. This was what Kevin had been seeking on the online forum where he and Lauralynn had met. Maybe the fact that Lauralynn, another woman, would be involved and present, acted as reassurance, or perhaps it added an extra degree of humiliation to the scene.
Dominik was more uncertain as to what was in it for Liz.
The couple had agreed to get a room at a small hotel in nearby Bloomsbury which they finally repaired to after several further rounds of drinks, Liz having quickly graduated to alcohol. Lauralynn had evidently laid down the rules for the evening to Kevin before agreeing to