Cyril concentrated on the drive.  This particular moment felt almost surreal, like something out of a fever dream.  There was an edge of excitement, a spark that had long been missing from his time with his wife.  But there was also a feeling of impending dread.  He could feel the approach of one of those moments that changes everything after.  Normally, he briefly considered, one didn't see those coming.  Marriage, yes, divorce, yes.<br/><br/>But not this.<br/><br/>His driving became relaxed, somewhat.  He knew instinctively where he was heading.  He could have driven it blindfolded.<br/><br/>As he and Marissa neared their destination, Cyril felt a familiar change in his manner begin to settle upon him.  His shoulders slumped slightly, and he began to hold his head slightly lower, slightly downcast.  He felt a familiar tingle of anticipation slide up his back and down to his midsection.<br/><br/>Being an executive in a large company, Cyril was used to being able to command.  Hell, he had even grown to see himself as the CEO of his marriage to Marissa.  He did not order her around, no, he wasn't that old-fashioned.  But he did have a lot of say in her actions and activities.  She didn't come to him for permission, but there was an almost unspoken rule that he was first among the equals of the two of them.  He worked, he made a large sum of money.  He, to put it another way, definitely wore the pants in the family.<br/><br/>That probably explained Mistress Bridget.  She didn't expect him to command.  No, she did the commanding.  And she was not an inexpensive outlet for him.<br/><br/>Of course, he hadn't actually physically cheated on his wife, no.  But, that hadn't entered into the initial blowup she had had concerning Mistress Bridget.  No, the fact that he was going to her and paying her for services of a sexual nature had been enough to spark a hidden aspect of his wife into action.  She became fire and fury, refusing to see or speak to him.  For a few months, she held him at bay, quietly preparing to eviscerate him publicly.<br/><br/>It was almost a relief when she had called him.  That relief was short lived, however, when Marissa laid out her conditions.  She wanted to meet Mistress Bridget.<br/>