A sterner version of the wife is introduced!

Maja, wife of Sigvard Karlsson and stepmother of his son David, laid down her fork on her half-eaten plate of gravlax and honeydew. The bright and delightful sunroom where she and her young host were sharing their breakfast gained greater depth from the several tall mirrors opposite its windows. The woman looked at one of them and saw herself gazing back.

Although she was only four years from her forties, Maja was still hanging on to the beauty that had made her so notorious during her youth. A safe, shielded life had kept her skin smooth, and no major wrinkles or gray hair had yet made their entrance. If her body was now well-rounded instead of thick or sinewy as others her age were starting to become, it was because of her discipline regarding food, **** and tobacco. The same discipline that allowed her to resist her host’s continuous advances during the month they spent in Stockholm together.

It had been extremely difficult, of course. Though pimple-faced and not as muscular as her husband, Patrik remained undeniably fit, cultivated, witty and charming. He had quite a reputation as a womaniser; among the well-off ladies of the capital, Maja had heard hushed tales of dresses ripped off and buttons flying, of gasping for air from his intense lovemaking and of difficulty walking afterwards, of thick white seed sprayed on waiting faces and too many other lewd acts to count. All of this had quite excited Maja, whose husband had always been perhaps a bit too tender during their moments of passion. When Patrik had begun courting her and even invited her to stay in his spacious and lovely house in one of the daintier parts of the city for the remainder of her trip, which she had accepted, she had thought she might well succumb and let him fuck her.

And yet. Her rich host was also clearly arrogant, possessive, jealous and vengeful. If she did have sex with Patrik, he would most likely not let her go without anger, at least not until he grew bored of her. He might even be the kind of man to send a boastful letter to her husband detailing her infidelity if she ever wanted to return to the farm. And this was unacceptable to Maja: she truly loved Sigvard and wanted to protect her marriage above all else. Thus, she ultimately decided to hold firm; she continuously flirted but did everything she could to never go further.

Early on she had even ventured into an old, tiny shop, hidden in a semi-basement off a dark alleyway in the Gamla Stan, where she had bought a leather chastity belt for herself. It had been completely useless: after wearing the belt for five days, she had unlocked it, nearly ripped it off in her impatience, and stood ready to jump on Patrik to finally give herself to him. Fortunately, her host had then returned from an evening at the exclusive Sällskapet club thoroughly soaked from a dozen or so full glasses of brandy and had therefore been in no shape to perform. Both disappointed and relieved, Maja instead masturbated furiously in her guest bedroom, thinking of all the rough things he could have said and done to her, and she had gotten off spectacularly. Every night afterwards she had pleasured herself while fantasizing about everything she was missing by refusing Patrik’s advances, and never again came so close to breaking her marriage vows.

"We could have had so much fun, you know," now said the young, clean-shaven man sitting opposite her, before taking a long sip of the lemonade-champagne mix he always seemed to drink in great quantities with his breakfast.

"But we did have great fun," replied Maja. "I never thought I would have the chance of attending a ball and fancy soirées, or to sit at a loge at the Royal Opera, yet you made it possible. And the delicious luncheon at the Freden when you imitated Lady Lindström, my God, I don’t think I laughed so hard in the past five years! Thank you so very much for all of this.”

She had spent two months at the capital, away from her husband and family. Today she would start her journey home and she had made it clear to her host that this was their last morning together. Of course, his pride would not allow him to give up before the very end, and Maja fully expected a last-ditch attempt to have her lay with him.

"So, you're really leaving me today?" Patrik asked.

"It's time," Maja replied.

"You can stay. No one is forcing you to go back."

"No one is forcing me to go home," Maja sighed, still flattered by his insistence but now somewhat tired of having to continuously turn him down. "I just want to."

Patrik was silent and she could feel him carefully weighing his next words before he spoke up again.

"I love you."

"You are cute," Maja replied with a somewhat saddened smile. "But you know I belong to someone else."

"He's not enough for you."

"That's not true."

"Why else would you leave him for months to come here alone, then?" he kept going. "You are clearly bored at his stupid farm."

"It's not that simple..."

"So what’s the final answer?" he asked in a colder voice after another moment of silence. "Is there any hope for me or not?"

"No, there isn’t," Maja answered, as softly as she could. "I love my husband."

"Well then," Patrik said, raising his lemonade-champagne flute. "Here’s to the incorruptible Lady Karlsson, the first to ever resist my charms and break my heart. Godspeed on your journey home!"

He drained his glass one last time and laid it back down on the delicate lace tablecloth with a brutality that contrasted with his otherwise calm demeanor. Without another word, he got up and exited the sunroom, leaving Maja alone. She did nothing to stop him. Instead she closed her eyes, trying to savor her last moments here, in this beautiful world of upper society that Patrik’s attentions had temporarily opened for her. She was no lady, and yet her host had made her feel like one during their time together. He had offered her another life, which she ultimately and definitively turned down, and now there was no taking back that choice. It was time to go home and live with the consequences.