thing7's blog post - FORGET ME NOT

I used to carry a nude picture of my wife in my wallet, as well as a picture of my crotch with my shorts pulled aside and my dick swollen and lengthened.

In a little shop, I opened my wallet for a credit card and the woman at the counter shot out her hand and grabbed my wallet when she saw the picture of my dick. She asked "Can I see it?" I said yes and took the picture out and handed it to her.

She held it with both hands, close up to her face and studied it intensely for minutes on end in silence. Finally, another customer came in and she handed it back to me. I left but came back the next day and just took out the picture and handed it to her. Her wedding ring glittered as her hands shook slightly.

She was Mexican and young and pretty. On the third day I came in, I handed her the picture again and soon a big, old, angry looking Mexican man kind of burst in as if trying to catch us at something. He was her husband and he was suspicious as hell. I just sat on the stool, studying a catalogue while she had somehow hidden the picture before he saw her looking at it. He stayed, said a few words, glared at me, I looked mildly back, feeling no concern, perhaps stupidly, and after about five minutes of catalogue shopping, I left. He stayed.

I imagined what went on in their marriage and what he'd said to her after I left, and what she had said to him. Had she been able to hide the guilt in her eyes? What was she thinking of at night, beside and under him in bed?

I waited a week or so, then went back in one more time, and handed her the picture again. This time, I stayed kind of briefly, smiled at her, got up and left forever, leaving the picture with her. A memento of our affair.