The bar

They drove from their quiet private estate with rows of conservative building with manicured lawns towards the shitty part of town, Emma had googled the address and Mark had no idea where he was going, eventually they were in a run down housing estate, the gardens were full of broken children's toys and scrapped cars, Emma's breath tightened "we are close its just around the corner, they pulled up a small quadrant that had once had several low end shops but now the only lights belonged to a worn out bar.

Emma sat twisted toward him, one knee bent up on the seat, the black dress pulling tight up, under the street lights Mark could see her perfect pussy and wanted her right then.

“You’re sure?” Mark asked,

Emma’s reply was a slow nod. “This is the place. Not polished. Not safe. A bar where the wrong kind of people drink. That’s who I want finding these.”

Mark’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, but he didn’t argue. He never did, not when Emma got that gleam in her eye.

A red light froze them under a flickering sign for Lucky’s Tavern. The ‘u’ was dead, leaving L cky’s. Emma stared at it like it was a dare.

“Good enough, are you finished looking?” she asked.

Mark smiled "Was I that obvious"

Emma whispered "I wanted you to see my cunt so you know what they will be looking at"

Marks throat went dry "well I could do with a drink now you little cock tease"

They got out of the car and walked in, The air stank of stale beer, and unwashed bodies. It was quiet, a single television in the corner had horse racing on and the patrons were to invested in their stakes than the posh couple who walked in.

Emma mouth "Perfect."

They took a booth near the back, the cracked leather sticking to Emma’s thighs. She placed the envelope on the seat beside her, casual, like she might have forgotten it after rifling through her bag. Mark’s stomach twisted at the sight of it just sitting there, innocent and obscene at once.

A waitress with a tired smile came over, pen poised. “What can I get you?”

“Two beers,” Mark said.

Emma added, “And two shots. Whiskey.”

The waitress looked her up and down, her hair, the dress, and the evident lack of a bra before she said "are you sure that you want to be here its a bit well you know, shit"

Mark shrugged and she walked away

Emma leaned across the table, eyes locked on Mark’s. "go use the toilet and drop it on a table at the other side, I want to see who picks it up"

Mark got up with the envelope, this was it, he was going to show off his wife's body to some scumbag, he put it on a table beside the gents toilet and went in, no one had saw him. He waited in the toilet counting to 30 and then walked back into the bar, The drinks were on the table and Emma sat, her face was chalk white and her eyes were wide, the envelope was gone.