From My Lover to My WifebyThe Big Bopper©
This is a new stand-alone story. I have continued on the Loving Wives theme that I prefer to write about in my stories, and that seems to be very popular among readers. There is some degree of cuckolding so if sharing your wife with another man is likely to offend you, I suggest that you stop reading now. You have been warned.
How very different my life would have turned out if I hadn't gone to that party that warm summer Saturday night at Charles Turner's house. If I hadn't met the woman who was then his wife. Or even perhaps if my own then wife had gone to the party with me … instead of feigning a headache as she so often did.
When Barbara told me that she didn't want to go to the party, I was so infuriated that she was pulling this stunt yet again that I angrily told her, "Well stuff you, stay home in your little safety cocoon, I'm going out to have a good time." I stormed out of our home.
I had only met Charles in the past six months through business, but I had never had any social contact with he or his friends … until now. His house was a large rambling two-storey cottage on the right side of town and there would have been at least a dozen cars in the street outside when I arrived so I figured there was going to be at least twenty – maybe twenty-five people there. May be a chance to do some networking.
I entered through the wide-open front door and looked around the large living room, not recognising anybody I knew at first. Then as a waiter handed me a glass of wine, I saw a couple of business associates so I headed their way. Best to start with somebody you know. On the way across the room, pressing through the throng of guests, the host Charles appeared, seemingly from out of nowhere.
"Chris, good to see you, I'm glad you could make it," he greeted warmly.
"Thanks Charles, thanks for the invite."
Looking around and obviously surprised that I didn't have a woman clinging to my arm, Charles asked, "Where's your better half, Chris? Don't tell me you're flying solo tonight."
"I'm afraid I am, Charles. Barbara begged out of the evening, she's … err … she's not feeling too well."
"Woman's trouble, eh … covers a multitude of sins, doesn't it?" he chortled. "They seem to blame everything on periods and hormones. Oh well, make yourself at home … there's a couple of guys you'll know over there."
"Yes Charles, I was just making my way over to them. Thanks!"
That was about the only conversation I had with Charles that evening. I did move on and chat to the two men I had met through Charles and through our business dealings. But I also surveyed this lovely home … I found that they had a lovely broad deck opening out through French windows from the expansive living room.
Several guests had already taken up spots on the deck. From there, the back lawn of the property rolled gently down to a lake. It was quite a big expanse of water and, in the moonlight, I could make out a small island in the middle of the lake. One guest told me that Charles had planned a surprise for us all. Later in the evening, we would be invited out onto the deck and there would be a fireworks display, set off by hired operatives who were already making preparations out on the island.
It all sounded quite spectacular, but I had no doubt that Charles could afford it. He was a company director, running a successful import business and another guest had told me that his wife – whom I had never met – was a highly successful criminal lawyer. It was claimed that she only took on the worst of the worst high profile heavy-duty criminals.
I may have been yet to meet the high-flying and strikingly attractive lawyer wife, but I felt like I already knew her. Even in my business dealings with Charles, he had talked – even boasted – of his beautiful brunette wife who juggled her successful career with attending to his every need. Whenever Charles said that, he leered suggesting that she was a sexual dynamo.
About three hours into the party, I had tired of yet another conversation and excused myself, ostensibly to go find myself another drink. As I pushed through the throng that had now grown to nearly fifty people, a stunningly beautiful woman with jet-black hair stepped into my path. She was holding two glasses. "I have two here, would you like to help me with one?" she asked with a twinkle in her eyes.
"Are you talking about the wine?" I asked with dripping innuendo, looking down at her ample chest to see that she did indeed have two wonderfully rounded breasts, the tops generously exposed in her low-cut red satin dress.
"If I was asking for help with these two, I wouldn't have you stop at one," she answered suggestively, then held out one glass of wine to show the true intent of her words, bringing my thoughts back to reality. "And you are…?"
I took the glass that she offered and raised my eyes to look into hers. I melted from the blue and from the way they held you with an intimation that she was looking directly into your soul. "You have beautiful eyes," I told her and then felt foolish that I had said that instead of my name.
"Thank you," she said, appearing to almost blush from the compliment, "But I still don't know your name … and I want to."
"Want to what?" I muttered before thinking and again I felt foolish, realising that she meant that she wanted to know my name. Nevertheless, she smiled and picked up on the double entendre.
"Whatever you have in mind … I like the way you think."
Embarrassed, I tried to steer our conversation back on an even course. To give me a moment to gather my thoughts, I took a sip from the wine. "I'm sorry, I'm Chris … Chris Martin."
She had handed the glass to me that had been in her right hand and placed it into my right hand, since my left hand still held the empty glass from my previous drink. She still clutched her own glass of wine in her left hand. "I am Catherine … Catherine Turner," she said pushing her right hand toward mine to shake hands, only to find both of mine holding glasses. Her hand hovered in front of me, but found no free hand to shake. Then it dropped out of my sight and to my utter shock, I felt her hand grasp a hold of the front of my trousers, right where my dormant cock had been quietly nestling. I – and my cock – both jumped in stunned surprise as her fingers seemed to wrap around it through my trousers.
My eyes had flown wide open when she touched me so intimately and I stared into hers, the warm smile on her face was mischievous. "Turner, oh shit," I mumbled, "You're Charles' wife."
She still smiled warmly and her hand still held my rapidly stiffening cock. I looked around nervously, wondering if anybody could see where she had placed her hand. To my further surprise, nobody was paying the slightest attention to us … but I felt like I was standing under a spotlight in the middle of the room. My head swivelled, my eyes searching further afield, looking for Charles … my host for the evening and the husband of the beautiful woman who stood in front of me, holding my still clothed but enlarging cock.
I nervously turned my attention back to the warm blue eyes of the woman directly in front of me. "Can't you see him, Chris? Oh, he's probably off in some quiet dark corner trying to get into the pants of some woman he fancies here." She tightened her hold briefly, seemingly checking the size of the interest she had stirred in my cock, then let it go. "We are both incorrigible … I guess you'd agree with that after my novel way of greeting you."
"Yes … yes I would," I stuttered, bringing the full glass to my lips to sip the wine, wondering where this was headed. A gaggle of women nearby were laughing uproariously at the joke or observation of one of the group of five. The loud laughter caught Catherine's attention momentarily and she turned to study the group.
When she turned back to me, she asked, "Does one of those belong to you?"
I turned to also take in the loud group of women, who were all obviously well imbibed from the free flowing wine. "No … not one of them. No, in fact, my wife isn't here, Barbara couldn't make it tonight."
Catherine's eyes noticeably brightened, "Really … so I don't have to worry about an aggrieved wife, I can have you all to myself?"
I was nervous again – or was that still? This was a very forthright woman. "I … err, I don't know about that … err, Charles is a business associate of mine. I wouldn't want him to get the wrong idea."
"Oh, come on, don't be silly. We're all consenting adults here. Chris, I've been watching you from across the room."
"Really? What for?" I queried as my eyes were probably now brightening as she expressed her interest in me.
"Yes really … you are the best looking man here tonight." She paused to look around her, then continued, "That is, of the men that I haven't had yet."
"Wow, there's a back-handed compliment, if ever I heard one."
She laughed … and then we were interrupted momentarily by the waiter pausing alongside to whisper something to her … and she retrieved her hand. I took this moment of her distraction to study her while she didn't see me looking. She was indeed a ravishingly beautiful woman, the jet black hair with the red almost off-the-shoulder dress that had long demure sleeves, but was cut so low in front that a vast amount of the smoothly rounded surface of her twin mounds was visible, plus a generous diving cleavage. Her hem was two inches above her knees and her legs were nylon encased, the colour of her hose was transparent and natural.
While the waiter was standing alongside talking to her, I took the chance to deposit my empty glass on his tray.
Catherine turned her attention back to me, "I'm sorry, just a query from the waiter about where he would find the rest of Charles' wine supply. Now where were we?"
"Getting to know each other I guess," I suggested. "You told me that you had been watching me."
"Oh yes, I did too, didn't I? Well, we can get to know each other much better without a horde of people around us." Her hand disappeared below my waist again and I froze, half expecting her to grasp my cock once more. But instead, she took my now empty hand and led me through the crowd of people, acknowledging some of them as we walked. She was not at all self conscious that we were holding hands as she greeted her friends and guests. Understandably, I was apprehensive that we would run into Charles as we pushed through the throng.
We moved out into the hallway and came upon the door to the bathroom, two women were already queued outside. I tightened my grip on Catherine's hand, "I don't know where you're taking me, but I really should stop and take a piss. I am busting after all that wine."
She never paused in her steps and we turned into a second corridor where there were stairs leading up. I wondered if she had even heard me. But as she headed for the stairs, she turned her head to say "It will take ages waiting for those women to use that toilet. There's another one upstairs, it's more private, you can use that."
We climbed the narrow stairs, she still a step or two in front of me, her hand trailing back and holding mine quite tightly. I was able to watch her arse move in the red dress, her figure looked to me to be nearly perfect. We reached the top of the stairs. The roof was A-frame and the ceilings went with the roofline so that in the middle of the house they were quite high. Being A-frame, there were not as many rooms up here as down on the ground floor.
Catherine pointed to a closed door just ahead of us, "You can use the toilet there," she said, letting go of my hand. "When you're finished, come on in here, I'll be waiting." She looked back with that bewitching mischievous smile of hers as she disappeared through the open door of what appeared to be the master bedroom. The light was on in there.
I watched her go, then stepped forward and opened the door of the toilet. That is all it was, just a tiny room with only a toilet and washbasin. I unzipped and did my bit of urine relief, although it was slow to happen in spite of the previous pressure I had felt. Her surprise grasp of my cock earlier had left me in a semi-hard state and I couldn't shed as much piss as I wanted. I shook it off and put it away and re-zipped, wondering just how far this was about to go.
My mind fleetingly thought of Barbara, sitting at home and I wondered if I should be about to cheat on her like this. Our marriage had been in steady decline for months and we both knew by now that it was not going to be the lifelong association that we had planned when we were younger. There were no children so a break-up was likely to be clean and swift once both of us decided that we wanted to end it.
My justification for what was about to happen complete, I washed my hands and dried them and opened the door to go to Catherine. I turned left into the large master bedroom. It was well lit but empty. My eyes scanned around and spotted an open doorway on the far side of the bedroom. Suddenly Catherine appeared there, coming in from the darkness beyond. It must be a balcony of some kind … I headed for it.
Catherine stood her ground, her arms parting and stretching out to welcome me and I stepped up to her, fitting my body to hers as she stood in the open doorway, my arms wrapping around her shapely body and pulling her in tight. My mouth lowered to hers, but only slightly. She would have been about 5'8" but in the high heels that she wore, that placed her just below my six feet.
Our lips touched scorchingly, hers were soft and yielding and mine forced hers open immediately, the kiss instantly passionate. My tongue slipped between her lips and didn't need to search hers out, it was there waiting and our tongues entwined greedily. Her lower body thrust forward, needing to feel the substance of my hard-on through our clothing and we ground our pelvises together.
Out in the night sky behind her, there was a sudden bang and the dark night lit up as day. I could even see it behind my closed lids and my eyes shot open. Another bang followed and another flash of light and our kiss had broken. She turned her head away to also follow the source of the sound and light.
"Oh dear, Charles' fireworks show has started."
"I thought the fireworks were from kissing you," I offered gallantly.
She gave me that 'did you really say something that stupid' look and I wished that I could have taken it back. "Come on out," she said, "He will want me to see this, although it is lousy timing. I had great plans for us."
She slipped out of my arms and walked across what I could now see was only a tiny balcony, perhaps six feet by six feet. She stepped up to the railing while I continued to stand in the doorway watching her from behind, her back was lit by the light from the bedroom behind me.
Catherine bent forward to peer over the railing at the guests gathered below and I noticed that her feet were planted quite wide apart. Slowly, her hands slid down the outside of her dress and grasped the bottom edges on her outer thigh. I watched intrigued as her hands slid upward, her palms dragging the bottom of the dress up with them.
The hem climbed steadily and the dark elasticised bands on her stockings came into view. They were obviously hold-ups, the tops of the stockings just two inches below her crotch which soon became visible as her hands pushed the dress higher. She slid it up over her hips, now revealing her tiny pastel blue panties – not a thong – but the material seemed to be tucked or caught into the crease of her arse so seductively. Had she planned that, or were the panties too small for her and they had ridden up into her arse crease as she walked?
Her hands did not stop sliding the dress up until it bunched around her waist. What a vision, the spread legs, so wide apart that I could see the lights from the fireworks illuminated between them. My eyes were drawn to her long legs, encased in the sheer stockings, and by that small gap between the top of a woman's thighs, just below her crotch, and the tiny panties tucked into her arse. I almost missed seeing her head turn and her eyes looking back at me.
Her back was still to me but her head was turned and our eyes locked. Her hands now moved to the waistband of her tiny panties and she pushed them down over her hips, two fingers sliding around to tug the silky material from between the cheeks of her arse. She spoke and I could hear her in a momentary pause in the sound of the fireworks, "Damn panties keep getting caught, I may have to go back to wearing a thong."
"It all looks good from where I stand," I told her as her hands continued to push the panties down over her thighs. She momentarily brought her legs together, allowing the panties to fall naturally to around her ankles. She lifted one foot and stepped out of them and she placed her foot back at the same spread width it had been before.
"Help yourself then," she said and her head turned away to look back toward the dark sky as another flash of light continued the fireworks show from the island. She seemed to place each hand on the railing out to the sides of her, like in a brace position and she bent her upper body forward, accentuating her long high-heeled legs. Her head and chest was leaning out over the railing, her arse was pushed back and upward toward me.
I unzipped my trousers and my hand reached in and pulled out my cock that was now fully erect and ready for action, moisture oozing from the tip. I stepped forward, it only took three steps on the tiny balcony and I was up against her lower body. My belly touched the smooth cheeks of her bare arse as my hard-on pushed down between her arse cheeks and beyond, catching in the slit of her pubic mound. I was surprised to find it already wet and soaked. Surely this could not be all of her juices, she must have applied some KY while I was in the bathroom. Maybe because she realised that it was going to have to be a quickie.
"Should I close the bedroom door?" I asked as I felt her body twisting and squirming around my hard shaft that had pushed through between her upper thighs all the way to the front, nudging her clitoris and was now sliding back, enjoying the moment.
"No, leave it … nobody will come up here while the fireworks are on," she said confidently. She turned her head around to look up into my eyes as another firework lit up the sky and her beautiful face was lit up. "Now fuck me hard, Chris! Just do it!"
Catherine turned away again to watch and I scrambled my feet around behind and between hers, my knees bent, bracing myself to gain entry to her body. I slid my hard shaft up and down her slippery slit a couple more times, then I brought the fingers of one hand around the front of her and between her thighs to manoeuvre my cock-head into position. I thrust my hips forward and the head slipped into her liquid cunt. The lining of her passage seemed to suck it into her and I had little trouble pushing another two inches of my shaft in to follow the head up inside her.
I readjusted my feet and my free hand landed on her butt cheek, holding her firmly while I pushed the rest of my 6+ inches deep into her. My cock was firmly encased and it had only taken two firm shoves to gain entry to her juicy cunt. Yet as I began to move my cock in and out of her in that wonderful tradition of fucking, I noted that she was nevertheless quite tight. She definitely must have used some KY to enable me to get into her so quickly and easily.
Her supple body wriggled and squirmed beneath my cock's assault of her cunt while my fingers reached up and began to diddle her engorged clit, drawing expressive sighs from her that were barely audible above the sound of the fireworks.