Passion & Perspective Ch. 02

This is a novel of twenty-five chapters. I suggest you begin reading at Chapter 1. The novel deals with hotwifeing and cuckoldry. If those are subjects you aren't interested in, you may reconsider reading this.

Please read my statement regarding anonymous comments in my biography.

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I got home early the next afternoon, by the time she arrived, six-thirtyish, I had a glass of wine and a salad ready for her. "Are you nervous?" I asked.

"Tingly. Had butterflies all day, was pathetic at work," she conceded. "I'm still not absolutely sure this is the right thing to do. But if I don't do it tonight, I don't think I ever will. And I find I want to."

While I cleaned the dishes, she went to the master bedroom and I heard her take a long shower. She'd ordered me to stay out of her way, and I followed her command. Then, again according to the plan she'd developed, I got a text, and headed to the Marriott by the convention center. I'd never been there before, but it was as she'd described, a rectangular bar, seating on three sides, to the back of the stool I sat on was a series of semi-circular booths. The dance floor and a few tables were on the other side of the bar.

I ordered a beer, did some people watching. The place was perhaps half full at the 8:00 hour, mostly business men attending a convention, some nerds still had their name tags on, a few couples. Ten or twelve minutes after I'd sat, I looked to the doorway, and there was a wonderfully alluring woman - my wife. She was dressed in an outfit I'd never seen before, a thin floral blouse, ebony skirt that covered only the top half of her thighs, mesh nylons, black heels that added at least three inches to her already tall frame. Her hair was magically perfect, the lips ruby, lashes long, earrings sparkled from her lobes, a pendant drew attention to the exposed skin above her cleavage.

A multitude of eyes watched as she parked herself on a stool, almost opposite of me, I could see her clearly, and she glanced quickly at me, smiled.

Within a few moments, a man approached her, he was welcomed warmly by Molly to the seat beside her. I couldn't hear the conversation over the noise of voices and canned music, but it didn't seem Molly was giving out the proper flirting signals. He was a little short for her, I thought, and I noticed his shirt needed to be ironed. I was right, after five minutes or so she sent him packing.

Another period of waiting, then she was approached by someone more suitable. He was tall, I thought he was handsome in a Roman fashion, wearing an moderately expensive suit with an open collared shirt. This time, she went into flirting mode, licking her lips, smiling, gazing directly into his eyes, touching his arm or hand every once in awhile. The man dropped his arm out of my eyesight, it's possible that he was fondling a knee. I had hopes, great ones, but after fifteen minutes I saw Molly smile and shake her head 'no.' Just a few minutes later, the man stood and walked away. Another miss!

I noticed a rather good looking man sat around the corner of the bar from Molly, I could see he was trying to catch her eye. She hemmed and hawed for a bit, playing with her hair, but then she looked to him. I could almost feel the lock of their eyes. He raised his glass to her, she smiled and nodded, and the man got up and sauntered over. He was tall, I could tell, at least six-two, in a suit, he still had his tie on. Hellos were said, names exchanged, he sat. Molly was in full-flirt mode, and the discussion seemed animated. The bar maid questioned if another round was in order, the man responded affirmatively, the conversation continued. Then he pointed at me, no, past me, and Molly nodded. In unison they stood, and walked around the bar, just a few feet from me, I could hear Molly saying, "The last book I read was Colter's Woman, by Maya Banks. Have you read . . ." and then she faded out. They stepped to the booth directly in back of me, sat, near but not near. In my position, in order to spy I had to turn my head, it was neither comfortable nor subtle. I shifted to a stool around the corner, from here I had a great view. They chatted, first she had her hand on his arm, then his hand was brushing a hair from her face. Another few moments passed, his hand was on her knee, then higher, even below the hem of her skirt.

He leaned toward Molly, and I believe their lips met. She leaned back, just a little, I couldn't tell if she was signaling 'no' to him or if it was simply a tactic. And then, below the table, I saw her hand, the one with the ring on it, gently rest on his leg at mid-thigh. A few more words were spoken, I wish I could have heard them, and then Molly reached for her clutch, took her phone out, turned it on as if checking for something, then turned it off and returned it to her purse. Then, very deliberately, she placed her hand on his neck and led his head to her mouth.

This was my signal that the game was on. Pursuant to our agreement, I stood, tossed a bill on the bar. From twenty feet I looked at my wife, sitting with a man in a booth, and it was clear that he was in lust for the love of my life. Perhaps I took a little too long in my glance, perhaps it morphed into a stare. My sweetheart looked to me, our eyes met, she smiled, for me, not for her other man.

I broke the glance, walked to the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When I got to my car, the dashboard clock read '9:28.' I just sat there for a few moments, chilly in the mid-March evening, and tried to collect my thoughts. My wife was in that bar, making out with a guy, and in a few minutes would, I was sure, go up to his room, where he'd fuck her silly. The horror of that thought snapped to my attention, and for a few seconds I told myself I had to go back in there and tell her not to do it. But the the ecstasy of the apparition eased into my mind, and I knew I wanted her to have sex. I backed out of the spot, onto the road and headed for home. A dozen times during the ten mile drive I wavered between 'I need to stop them' and 'what a great time she's going to have.' I was close to pulling the car over a couple of times and calling her, but both times I either came to or lost my senses - your call.

When I got home, my emotions were still twisting my gut, I actually had to go into the bathroom. When I was done with that, I poured myself a drink and turned on a basketball game, but there was no way I could, or even wanted to, concentrate on it. Every few moments I wondered what Molly was doing. Was she in his room? Was she naked? Was he naked? Was she sucking on him? Was he eating her? Were they screwing?

I finally gave up on the television and turned the computer on. In a hotwife forum I read the tales of joy of both women and men, the stories of anticipation. I looked at pictures of naked women, and naked men, and what they were doing with each other. I admit I pulled my tool out and masturbated, wondering if while I was spurting into the air, he was coming inside Molly.

An interminable amount of time later, the clock ticking at half speed, another drink in my hand, I realized it was approaching 11:15, and Molly, if she kept her agreement, would be home soon. And, just a few seconds later, my phone lit up with a text. 'im fine going to stay longer'

Attached was a picture of my Molly from the waist up, disheveled hair, she was lying on crumpled bed sheets, and all she was wearing was an immense smile.

At least, now, I was absolutely sure what had happened that night - our wishes had been granted. Who said, be careful what you wish for? I texted back 'ok'.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was after 12:30, I was in my easy chair in the den, when I hazily grasped something was happening. I'd dozed, helped by yet one more drink, half full at my elbow. Ah, that was it, Molly's car was in the driveway, I heard the click of the latch. I scuttled to the door just in time to watch my Molly enter the house.

She was properly dressed, all her clothing tucked in and fitting very nicely on that wonderful body. She seemed to walk fine, normally. The hair was sprucely brushed, if a lock or two was less than perfectly in line it wouldn't have been noticed by the neighbor down the block. Her makeup, if less than fresh, was no more mussed than if she'd spent the day at work. In short, most of her appearance was completely normal.

And yet, there was an aura about her, something had been altered. Her eyes, a bit larger perhaps, gay. And her skin seemed a shade brighter, luminous.

"Oh, you beautiful, beautiful man," she exclaimed as she ran to my arms. "I love you, I love you so much!" She encircled me with her arms, hugged me deeply, and before she raised her lips to be kissed she said, "Oh, thank you."

I kissed her, at first it was tentative, cautious on my part, but her rashness soon infected me, and we cooperated in the act, tongues twirling, lips lightly nibbled. Had I not known what she'd been up to, I never would have guessed she'd been kissing another. There was no difference in her embrace, save that, like the rest of her demeanor, it was more exuberant, frisky.

"Why thank me?" I asked.

"Because you let me have this night, dearest. I can't thank you enough." I was about to contest this, but she put her finger to my lip, shushing me. "Right now, I need to pee. Then I'll tell you anything you want to know. You do want me to tell you about it, don't you?"

I did. Very much.

As she turned to head for the bathroom I asked, "Is there anything you need?"

"I'd love a cup of tea. And would you mind if I changed?"

I puttered around in the kitchen, and by the time the tea was steeped, I was joined by my wife wearing one of my favorite negligees, a little translucent aqua number, her aureoles seemed a little larger, darker, the panties hiding her recently violated bush, and I wondered that now, now that my lovely Molly was back with me, my emotions were calm, even mirthful.

Once again she hugged me, telling me wordlessly that she loved me, appreciated me, and I suggested we head for the den, where we sat sideways on the couch, her back to my chest, my arm draped over her shoulder. I held a breast, embraced it as she sipped her beverage.

"Well," she began, "what do you want to know?"

"Everything. You know you promised me every detail, and I really want to hear it."

"Where shall I begin?"

"When you first sat down at the bar."

"Okay. The first guy who hit on me just wasn't my type. The second one was, but it turned out that he lives here, I really wanted somebody from out of town. And then I saw Keith sit down. It was immediate, my attraction to him."

"I didn't see him sit down," I related, "I guess I was watching you."

"It was when the other guy was sitting with me. I noticed Keith right away. We were making eye contact, and I just wanted to go over and kiss him, but I tried to be cool. Later, Keith told me he knew what was going to happen from the very first moment. His first words were, 'You do know how beautiful you are, don't you?' He had me, right then. It might have been a lie, or a line . . ."

"It wasn't, you're beautiful"

". . . but I didn't care. We started by exchanging information, he's an account executive from Columbus, and then he asked me if I've ever read Mrs. Chatterly. I thought it was pretty bold, going straight for the subject, and I said I had, and then he said we should get a little more comfortable and I thought he was going to suggest we head for his room right then, but we went over to the booth."

"Would you have said yes, right then, if had invited you up?"

"Possibly. It's hard to say exactly. But anyway, there we were, talking about books, and there were all kinds of innuendoes flying around. And pretty soon, we were touching each other, and I was getting really hot. You were watching us, I could see, but Keith didn't notice, and then we kissed, and I couldn't believe I was doing that, in public, but I knew I wanted to kiss him hard, and I was pretty sure he was going to invite me up. So that's when I decided to use the signal. Dear, when you stood up, there was this sort of strange look on your face, did you know that?"

"I believe it."

"I was pretty sure you were going to come over and stop it."

"I thought about it."

"Honey, how come you didn't?"

"Oh, you don't know how torn up I was inside, not just then, all night. Half of me was just sick, but the other half was all excited, thinking about what you were doing. My minds been made up, of course, ever since we started talking about it, and when it actually happened, I guess, I wanted it more than I didn't."

"Are you ok now?" she asked with concern.

"Yes, I'm fine. Anyway, there you were, sitting in the booth."

"Uh, huh. Yeah, well, so we made out some, just a little, I knew a couple guys were watching us, and then his hand kept running up the inside of my thigh, he was this close to touching it, and finally it was me who asked if we were going to his room or not. So we get into the elevator and we were really kissing, and Keith had his hand on my rear end, pulling me to him, and I could feel his hard on against me, and I was so hot you could light a match by holding it against me. So then we got into the room, and he pushed me against the wall, I didn't mind, and we were kissing, and he was touching me all over, and then he got my shirt open, and then he was kissing my nipples, and I almost came just from that. Is this too much detail for you?"

It wasn't so I said, "Is that when you first touched his dick?"

"Yeah, I got his belt undone and got him unzipped, and he was as hard as anything."

"How big was he?"

"Not that big. Not any bigger than you are. A bit thinner, in fact. So at that point, we decided to go sit down, and on the way I decided I should use the bathroom, didn't want a full bladder, you know. And I'm sitting there peeing, and I cooled down a little bit. I wondered what the hell I was doing, and for a couple of seconds thought about calling you and asking if I should come home, but I didn't, and after I splashed my face with water I buttoned up and went out into the room, and Keith was sitting on the sofa. He still had all his clothes on, and I'm pretty sure if he was naked I would have ran right then, but he asked me if I wanted anything from the minibar, and I said I'd take a glass of wine, and I sat beside him.

"I'm pretty sure he knew I was getting hesitant, and we started talking again, about traveling. I told him about our trip to Paris, and he told me how much he and his wife loved Paris, they were there on their honeymoon, and then, after awhile, he touched my hair, told me how pretty I was and asked if he could kiss me. I told him yes, and it was a nice little kiss, and that turned into a bigger kiss, and then, all of a sudden, he's feeling my breast, and I'm holding his penis, and I'm hot again. I let him take off my blouse, and he was kissing my nipples, and then I unzipped my skirt and he helped me take it off. And then he was feeling me down there . . . you want me to keep going? . . . okay, and then he had a finger in me. Dear, it felt so good, I think because he was doing it so different than you do, not better, just different. And then he knelt in front of me and was eating me, and that's when I had my first orgasm. It was pretty big, let me tell you. And while he was eating me, he was taking off his clothes, and pretty soon we were both naked, and after awhile I was still sitting on the couch and he was in front of me, and we were kissing and hugging and he said he didn't have a condom and I told him to get one out of my purse and he put it on, and then he knelt in front of me again and had me put my feet up on his shoulder and then he put it in me."

"Was it good?" I asked.

"Fantastic. He felt so different than you do, somehow, his movements were different, and I was just loving it. I came again, and he just kept going, hard. After awhile he pulled out, and he sat on the sofa and I got on top of him. This was slower, and we went on like that for a long time, and then I could see he was getting close so I tried to help him and it worked, and he had a big orgasm. That was different than you, too, he was quieter, and his face scrunched all up, and then he was done, and I got off and went into the bathroom again. When I came back he was lying on the sheets and I went over and laid down beside him, and we started talking. He asked me if this was my first time, and I told him it was. He said he got the idea because of something I'd said, and how I was so hesitant when I came out of the bathroom, and he asked me if I felt bad about it, and I told him I didn't, and he asked why I was cheating on you. I told him I wasn't cheating, that you knew I was there, and that you had been encouraging me, and he thought that was cool. And then I said I should be going, and he told me he wanted me to stick around, he had other ideas, and I said okay, but I didn't want you to worry so I texted you."

"That was a great picture, how did that happen?"

"Oh, that was Keith's idea. When I told him I was texting you he asked if you'd like a souvenir and I let him take that picture. You liked it?"

"I really did. Did you let him take any more?"

"Uh-huh. You want to see them?" She got her phone, and started flipping through them for me. There was the first photo, of her on her back, and then a full length picture of her on the bed, and then one of her with her legs wide open, the pussy lips all red, and then one of his face, and then one of him standing up naked, and then, a surprise, a close up of his dick, with a condom on, half buried inside her.

"So you did it again, I see."

"Yeah, he got on the bed next to me, and we started kissing and fooling around, and I went down on him and got him hard, and he got on top of me, and we both came again. It was just about midnight then, so I got dressed and came home. And that's my night."

"Just till now, right?"

"I guess so, you've got plans?"

"Well, you said you never had two guys in one night. You want to change that?" She did, so we started kissing, and she got me naked and went down on me. I was, at that point, as erect as I've been in a decade, and after just a few strokes, I pulled her around to a sitting position and knelt in front of her. I had a desire to give her cunnilingus, but I admit I hesitated. The overriding factor was a psychological barrier, that I'd have my mouth where Keith's penis had already been. I told myself Molly had taken it into her mouth, and I'd kissed her there, so that boundary had already been taken care of. At the same time, I wanted to closely examine my wife's genitals, to see the effect of a night of wanton sex. I put my face between her legs.

The labia was a bright pink, but no more than usual. Perhaps it was a remnant of her evening of passion, perhaps it was simply normal as she was readying herself for me. When I inserted a finger inside, she was slightly parched; again, possibly a by-product of her previous exercises, but then again we had reached the point in our lives that lubricant was no stranger to our bed. When I put my mouth to her clitoris, I found a strange, acerbic flavor that I didn't care for, the residuum of the condom Keith had worn. I wasn't disappointed when Molly explained she was quite sensitive and asked me to stop.

Like Keith before me, I sat on the couch and suggested Molly climb on top. When she settled, we commenced the movements of love, Molly kept her eyes closed. Was she thinking of me, or reflecting on her other lover? As we bounced, I thought, 'he was there, he felt that, he kissed her there,' until the erotic notions brought me to the brink of combustion.

When I had finished I asked, "You didn't come, did you?"

"No," Molly said, "but it's okay. I'll come for you tomorrow night, okay?"