Then one day I happened to stop by her apartment, she'd gotten a little one bedroom place, very close to work. I was in the parking lot when she whipped in and not seeing me, got out with a man and walked toward her place. They were very touchy feeling and I almost threw up, knowing why my wife wanted this 'separation'.I couldn't help it and after about a 1/2 hour, peeked in the window. They were having sex on the couch and I ended up throwing up right there. Thankfully I had the presence of mind to pull out my telephone, take a series of pictures where they could both be plainly seen. I went home, printed them off and then blew up the best of the bunch. She was supposed to stop by the next day, Saturday, and discuss reconciliation.When Julie walked in the front door, I supposed expecting me to grovel at her feet for her presence, I ignored her and the screams. All over the house, I'd glued the pictures to the wall. Not taped them, glued them. She tried to rip them down but couldn't. His eyes were focused and followed every motion of his hands and fingers. She could almost see the reflection of his actions within the nearly black depths of his brown eyes. She realized, she was taking part of his true artistic medium, an artist who worked with the softness of silken rope in a chosen brilliant red. Her eyes and head followed each of his movements as his hands intricately coiled the rope around and around the length of her arms. She anticipated the moment the two ends of the rope would come together, curious to where they would meet on her body. Every brush of his fingertips sent her anticipation higher and each twist and wrap of the rope raised the level even higher. She felt as if she were a blank human canvas being swirled by pure red that grew more and more vibrant against the paleness of her skin and the pure black of the vinyl corset. Once her arms were snugly coiled by the rope they were guided raised above her head. The binding around her wrists was.
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