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A wife's RevengeI spent hours writing this. It is long, but, I think you?ll get more out of it if you read every word.So, tomorrow came. I sat up in bed, naked and still a bit drowsy. I?d woke a couple of times during the night and, still aroused given myself a quick fingering. Anyway, tonight I?m going to fuck James, I decided, and as I?ve said before, the trick is all in the planning.I showered, another quickie play and then a rummage through my case for something nice to wear. I?d told James I?d got a couple of heady meetings and would probably head for the bar as soon as I got back, around 5 ish. So, back to clothing. I started with my undies, as always. There we are, perfect. Nice bra. White, low cut. Thin back strap. I?ve got biggish boobs, 38DD, so most bras of that size are built to give maximum support. I?m lucky to have firm breasts so I don?t need some feat of extreme mechanical engineering. Nicely low-cut, the top half of the cups nicely sheer, just down to the shading of the top half of the nipple areas.Matching knickers. Only worn a couple of times, so still stark white. I do hate that greyish tinge that all white undies eventually do get. Nicely fitting. Not quite up to my waist. Completely sheer except for vertical white panels, each one half an inch wide, all around them.White suspender belt, not part of the matching set, but, again, stark white satin . Six straps, each one of satin ending with a hard plastic nub, fitting snugly into a red metallic holder. Not elasticated, I shortened the straps before I put it on. I do like the tops of my stockings to come up to level with the tops of my thighs. Can?t be doing with that tarty, just above the knee stuff. New pack of stockings. My usual very low denier , plain, not lacy tops and, as ever, black. I sometimes do wear seams but, never for the office. Too distracting for the men and could, maybe, be construed as a little slutty. Anyway, I slipped it on and fastened the five hook and eye arrangement and, of course, checked the view, front and back, in the mirror, before slipping my knickers on. Another mirror check, perfect.Black skirt. Nicely fitted around the bum and flared below, prettily pleated with such a nice swaying effect as I walk. Nice and flouncy, if that?s a proper word. Now the blouse. I selected one. White, of course, the front decorated with a pleated effect, similar to the front of a man?s dress shirt. Just wide enough to shield the centre of the cups of my bra from view, except for the outer side bits. I put it on and, pulling it tight from the midriff, my bra?s detail was barely visible. Let?s try another one. Oh, so much better. Again, stark white, no ruff down the front, instead, two pockets perfectly positioned in front of the centre of the cups of my bra. The rest of it wasn?t see-through or opaque, just perfectly somewhere in the middle of those two extremes. The detail of my bra visible, except for the two smallish squares covered by the pockets. Turning my back to the mirror, I looked at the back view. Perfect, again, the detail of my bra visible.I put a black jacket on to complete the ensemble and, even though I say so myself, I looked good. Bear in mind, this event happened a few years ago when I was in my late 40?s, and I was a very attractive woman, or so I was told. Who am I to argue that ?And so, off to work. It seemed like a long day, and it probably was. But, being professional, I acquitted my role as a well-qualified solicitor extremely well. However, my mind was constantly mulling over the conversation I was going to have with James. Remember, the devil is in the detail. I didn?t want to have some basic yap about fucking, but, I wanted to adopt a subtle approach and have a stimulating conversation. I love that scenario, very sexy and such a fabulous element of foreplay, without the slutty flavour to it. I was generating conversation after conversation in my head. This would work, that wouldn?t, maybe tweak that, that?ll get him going, oh that will get me going, etc.Magic. The clock struck five. Time to pack up.I drove back to the hotel. Sat in my merc, driving on those country lanes, my mind was already racing, tweaking the conversations I?d already had in my head. Without having to change gears, my left hand had already started to wander between my legs. Touching my knickers, I wasn?t surprised to find they were already slightly damp. Parking at the hotel, I saw him sat at an outside table. God, you?re fuckin? eager, I thought. Now this is where rehearsed conversations start to require some modification. Makes it so much more fun, I think. Getting out of the car, I made sure my skirt rose up my legs, a little. As I closed the door, I brushed my hand down the side of the skirt, and, looking across at him, said,?Whoops, better protect my modesty?. He smiled and raised his glass. I joined him and he beckoned the waiter to get me a G