My (future) wife was working as a bargirl when I met her. So, like a good customer, I started by paying for a kiss or a blowjob before actually going out with her and making love.
During this time, and even after I moved in with her permanently, she continued to work.
So I, then present in the bar, saw her flirting with men older and richer than me (my savings only allowed me to order a beer). It was a very strange feeling, exciting, frustrating, full of emotion and sometimes tinged with anger.
Then came the time when I stayed close to the bar, waiting for him. I'd always stand back a little, so as not to disturb her when she came out, and join her before she reached the cab rank. A time when cell phones didn't exist. We often went to a nearby forest to spend an hour flirting.
But twice, at 1 a.m., she didn't go out alone, but on the arm of another man. Not only would I never see her, not only would she never know I'd come looking for her, but I knew it would all end in bed, and not with me. And that I wouldn't be the one to kiss her, penetrate her and make her come. The cuckold, not even a voyeur.
Then I actually moved into his studio. No more waiting at the bar or in the car. I was warm, in front of the TV, waiting for my beauty to come back so I could enjoy it a little (she was asleep when I left for work in the morning). Those returns shortly after 1 a.m. were always a great moment, even if I had to get up early. And by the time I got home around 7pm, she'd already been at the bar for a while. Except on Saturdays, when I had the privilege (and the lump in my stomach) of watching her shower, put on her work clothes (blouse buttoned up the front and worn without a bra, jeans or tight leather pants, black boots with heels, to make herself a little taller), do her hair and put on perfume... for the others. Every time she came home, she'd tell me it had been a quiet evening. But between the kisses she'd give me then, laden with cheap champagne and the inimitable taste of semen, and her iron box hidden in the bedroom filling up with bills, I wasn't fooled. And then there were the 2 or 3 times she didn't come home until much, much later. I knew why.