Welcome back for the second installment of “The Edacious Mrs. Rose.” Enjoy!
Haven’t read the first part? Click here to go back.
Mark and I met up for drinks after work. For some reason the fool thought me trust-worthy enough to divulge some very important information. Mrs. Rose had a voracious sexual appetite and she had many lovers to the dismay of Mr. Rose. His love for her was patient and kind and he turned a blind eye, which does not mean he was not in pain. That is why he turned to me.
That evening I plotted the most devious of plans, and I got Mark to help, all under the pretense of helping him, of course.
With our plan in hand, I soon became a regular dinner guest at the Rose household.
It was an exercise in impulse control.
Luckily, friendship with Cynthia came easily. We were soon like two girlfriends chatting in a corner. Our talks were of literature and often her love of the opera. She lamented her husband’s disdain for the theater. I saw my chance. I consoled, and I offered to accompany her to any production she wished. This only endeared me to her even more.
You would think that flirtation (and eventual seduction) would come easily from this point, but it was not so. I was awkward around women, especially ones as beautiful and intoxicating as Mrs. Rose, Cici as I was now prone to call her.
One particularly blustery February evening, we attended Strauss’ Der Rosenkavalier. We both enjoyed it immensely and were moved to tears several times. Later, Cici admitted that what attracted her to the opera was the strong emotional response it always invoked in her. I had to agree, the opera always moved me as well.
After the performance, we wound up at a bar not accustomed to patrons dressed as we were. We found the contrast enjoyable and shared a pitcher of a local brew. Buzzed on the beer, I could no longer hide my fascination.
I told her things I am sure she had heard millions of times before. I spoke of her exquisite beauty and captivating charm. I was not original, but it was genuine. She laughed. I swear I had detected a bit of a blush or was that just the alcohol? I will never know for certain.
My lack of originality did not seem to bother her. She soaked in my compliments and that night I had her in my bed. I finally had her. I finally tasted Mrs. Rose and it was supreme divinity. That night will forever be seared in my brain.
Cici and I were now in full affair mode, practically right in front of her husband. My plan worked better than I had anticipated.
He suspected nothing.
I half felt guilty, but quickly resigned.
I wish I could say my life had become better as a result of my love for Cynthia Rose, but we all know that love without pain is not possible. Pangs of guilt sometimes attacked me in the night, but only when I was alone in my bed. Maybe they were pangs of emptiness without her?
What happened next was not the turn of events I would expect.
Tune in Friday for the third and final installment of this short story. What will happen? Nobody knows. Not even the author.