A Naughty Night Out

George smiled. "It's not what you think. I had scheduled two nights in Charleston for work, but an unexpected meeting back in Memphis requires me to return right after my breakfast meeting tomorrow."

I liked his answer and gave a mischievous grin as I teased, "Oh, so tomorrow night you will be in the same boat as my husband tonight; twiddling your thumbs at home, while your wife scorches the sheets in another man's bed."

George laughed ruefully, "I guess that is about right."

My phone buzzed that a text had arrived. I made a wry face; "It's my husband I am sure. No doubt he wants to know how it is going."

George signaled for me to look at it. As we were closely ensconced against one another, we examined my husband's text together. It simply said "How's it going?" with a smiley face emoji.

George chuckled and said, "You certainly do know your husband. Well, it's after 3:30; we can check in now. What are you going to tell him?"

Oh yes, I wanted to take this man to bed. With the look in his eyes, I might be the one getting devoured though. His hand was now on my thigh, and he definitely had hopes for more.

I gave George a seductive smile as I spread my legs slightly inviting his hand to drop down between my thighs and explore further, which it did. Perhaps that was a bit risque for a grown woman in a short skirt sitting at a high top table in a public bar. But then again, I don't know anybody here.

With George reading as I typed, I replied to Bill, "Chemistry great. Taking your present upstairs to bed now. Many thanks for the pass!" I signed off with an emoji of a grinning, sexy she-devil.

"Does that answer your question," I giggled.

"I believe it does," he replied.

Bill

I got Ellen's first text that she arrived in Charleston safely. She's been on tenterhooks since last night, and I hoped all would go smoothly for her now.

With my wife on the verge of committing adultery, that I had condoned, I really couldn't concentrate on my work. Too many conflicting emotions and flashing mental images. CPA work requires your undiverted full attention.

After all of the office staff returned from lunch, I announced I had some personal business to tend to and would be off the rest of the day. This is a fairly quiet time of year, and I went over a few items with various staff members to ensure all would be covered in my absence. I was home by 1:45.

When I entered our kitchen, I found a vase of flowers from the garden, a bottle of excellent Italian Chianti Classico, and a note on the kitchen table. The note said, "While I am enjoying my present from you, I wanted to give you a little treat too." Ellen had prepared my favorite lasagna before leaving and left it in the fridge for me. The rest of the note gave me instructions on how to cook it: 375 for 30 minutes.

I smiled thinking, "Aha, I think the lady has a bit of a guilty conscience."

I was antsy with nothing to do and needed something to keep from dwelling on what Ellen was probably doing.

I made a pot of coffee and settled into an easy chair in front of the TV looking for some distraction. The 24-hour news channel proved to be an intellectual desert with two pundits on opposing sides screaming and talking over each other while the moderator scrambled to be the real star, interrupting the guests and interjecting his own trivial drivel. The best afternoon offerings of daytime TV turned out to be the weather channel (how much weather can you really watch), a Gunsmoke rerun that I had last seen when I was about 12, or the Atlanta Braves' game. I decided I would see how long it took the Braves to blow their two-run lead.

Shortly before four, Ellen's text announcing her successful rendezvous with the "other man" and imminent consummation of her affair arrived. Her sexy she-devil emoji was her shorthand when we were flirting by text from our work places that she was in the mood to get laid - and to get laid pronto.

The text triggered a mixed medley of emotions: a strange excitement over my wife's adventure, shame, jealousy, anger, and other feelings I can't quite describe or understand. Even with my knowledge and consent, my wife's affair still caused an emotional turmoil.

The Braves successfully fought their way to losing 3 to 2 in the ninth inning.

I decided it was time for an early happy hour. As I poured a very stiff bourbon on the rocks, I could not rid the mental image of my naked wife pulsating rhythmically while screeching in delight under George. My wife's a very lusty woman.

IT'S TOO LATE TO BACKOUT NOW

Ellen

We went to the hotel reception desk for George to check us in and get our luggage carried up to the room. As George talked with the desk clerk and the bellman, my nerves and imagination ran riot. I felt like everyone was staring at me and knew I was married and meeting my adulterous lover. I had to be blushing as hot as I felt. My paranoia was running wild.

The bellman carried our luggage up to the room. It was a lovely, tastefully decorated suite with a small separate sitting area with a minuscule dining table, a spacious bedroom with a king size bed, and a huge bathroom. Large windows looked out on Meeting Street toward the old market. Yes, this will certainly do nicely for my adulterous little tryst.

The bellman insisted on giving us a tour of the suite, explained how everything worked, lauded the hotel, and extolled the sights of Charleston. George was finally able to push him out the door with a nice tip and turned around to find me moving into his arms for a long introductory kiss. After a delightful minute of introduction, I broke it off, caught my breath, and led him at a trot to the bedroom.

I pushed him toward the bed and said "Take your clothes off. I will be right back. Don't you dare go anywhere!"

I went into the bathroom and stripped out of my clothes. I had brought sexy lingerie to wear but changed my mind. I was going into this butt naked and not delaying with any teasing. I could not wait to get my hands on that man, but my nerves were still giving me the shakes.

As I started to go into the bedroom I saw my phone on the bathroom counter. Well, he said he wanted to know everything. He can get what he asked for. I quickly texted my husband, "In bathroom, naked, primed and ready to go, headed to bedroom! It is too late to back out now!" I signed off with my sexy she-devil emoji again.

Bill

I was sitting on the back porch sipping my bourbon when Ellen's next text arrived. I winced realizing that even as I read it, my naked wife was racing into another man's arms. Soon they would be deeply engrossed in passionate aerobic exercise. It must be time for a refill of my drink.

Ellen

I bounced into the bedroom where a grinning George pulled me into bed. "You are tight as a kettle drum. Let's start with a massage."

He pulled me down onto my stomach and began an exquisite massage. He started kneading my major back muscles, shoulders, buttocks, and leg muscles - paying ample attention to my butt and inner thighs which raised my breathing rate! This continued with attention to my feet, fingers, and scalp. I was tingling all over.

George's own arousal was also obvious as he worked his way up and down my body. Yes, he was well hung! Sorry founding fathers, not all men are created equal in a woman's view!

George flipped me over on my back. Now, he worked my face, throat, breasts and stomach - less handwork now and more kissing, licking, and sucking. My body was on fire while my hoohaw hollered hallelujah.

Then he was between my legs, and his tongue began to work miracles on me while his fingers cajoled other delightful sensations from my breasts, thighs, and pubis. Oh my God, he is a silver tongued devil, to recast an old saying. My breathing now sounded like I was running a race, I peppered the air with gasps, yelps, and squeals as tremor after tremor surged through my body. I finally climaxed in a shuddering body-wide contraction that extracted a long primaeval shriek of pleasure from me.

I lay there panting, dazed, and happy with George ensconced between my legs. He was gently kissing my inner thigh while I contentedly ran my hands through his sweaty hair.

After my breathing was almost back to normal, he did it all over again.

I was wild now, pulling him frantically into me. Our primitive cerebellums, hormones, and adrenaline took over. We pushed, thrust, groaned, and screamed as primeval passion drove us both wildly searching for our climaxes. The end was a delightful mind-numbing shuddering experience.

I lay there curled up next to George covered in a sheen of sweat and gasping like a fish out of water thinking to myself, "Oh my, this was most satisfactory. Thank you, Hubby!"

After a few minutes to catch our breaths, I continued my inner thoughts, "Well, I have never found my upper limit on the number of orgasms I can have. I see no sense stopping now on wasting this perfectly good, naked male specimen beside me."

I rolled over pushing George flat on the bed. Now it was my turn. I slipped down and took his limp dick in my hands. Carefully I began to lick, paying special attention to the ever so sensitive glans and frenelum. Oh yes, I was making progress. I quickly had him groaning, and our little friend was hardening right up like a good little boy. TWhen he was fully hardened, I took him in my mouth slowly engulfing his dick until I had it all the way in - a trick I learned long ago in my single days. Bill loves for me to do this; George apparently does too, judging from his thrashing about and moaning.

But I didn't go too far. I stopped short of his orgasm and switched to less sensitive stimulation. When he recovered somewhat, I returned my lips to his dick and brought him to the brink again before I backed off. It was cruel fun for me, and it was driving him into a frenzy. I started the routine one more time, but George had had enough.

With a growl he threw me face down on the bed and spread my legs while holding me down. I playfully struggled against him. My laughter turned to squeals of pleasure as he took me; quite vigorously, I might add. We both got what we wanted, pushing and shoving desperately at each other as our bodies shook and contorted in a final climax of pleasure. Afterwards we collapsed in a sweaty heap. We murmured those trite lovers' words: "That was wonderful, you are great," and so forth. But such lovers' words always are but pale shadows of the intensity of the actual human sexual experience.

As our breathing stabilized, George said, "Let's cleanup and go grab dinner. I think I need sustenance before we do that again. They have a world-class restaurant here."

I wobbled to the bathroom on shaky legs and took a quick shower. I slipped on one of those comfy, fluffy robes that the better hotels have. I thought our bout of lovemaking must have taken hours and surely it must be 9:00 or so, but no, it was barely 6:00.

I found George sprawled on the bed. He had been contentedly watching me shower through the open bathroom door. He teased, "Well are you going to let Bill know you have consummated - partially, at least - your naughty-night-out pass?"

"No!" I shook my head in mock disapproval while I pushed him toward the bathroom. "That's mean. Shame on you! Go take your shower while I dress. I am starving."

George laughed as he stepped into the shower, "Just following up on his request to know everything; he did say everything."

I muttered smiling, "Boys! If you weren't so much fun in bed, I am not sure we could put up with you."

I went to the closet and pulled out my new dress. I had just bought it this afternoon while browsing after lunch and dropped it off with the bellman on the way to the bar. Like any woman, I had three other candidate dresses from home for tonight in my hangup bag but had not been really satisfied with any of them.

This dress was a stunning scarlet red silk with lace - I thought the red was a nice nod to Hawthorne's "Scarlet Letter" and my adulterous status for the night. Though the dress was ankle length, the very high slit in the side, open back, and plunging front with strategic lace panels was going to make wearing it more exciting than usual - well, maybe more daunting than usual is more accurate. I had no panties or bra with me that I could wear with the dress' geometry of exposure so my flesh would be exposed for public viewing or only covered by a thin layer of clingy silk. To wear this dress safely in public, you really needed a flesh colored body suit under it. I could kick myself for not thinking to buy one this afternoon. Oh well, too late now. George was in for a treat. There was certainly no place I could wear this dress back home.

I put on my makeup, heels, and jewelry and looked at myself in the mirror. I murmured, "My, my girl, you are one hot little sexpot tonight."

Now, if I could just follow my grandmother's dictum that a lady always holds herself erect whether standing, sitting, or walking, nothing too embarrassing would fall out of the dress or get flashed to the public. I wonder if that was what grandma was telling me from her experience back then!

I finished getting ready and could hear George was through with his shower. I went on into the sitting area and sat on the couch to check my phone. Nothing new from Bill.

I typed a quick text to Bill but was undecided about sending it.

George came in. He was wearing an obviously expensive, tailored, and well fitted grey herringbone suit with a blue dress shirt and tie.

He whistled, and I stood up and gave him a pirouette to view me and my dress.

"Not too scandalous for you to take me to dinner, I hope?" I asked with a flirtatious smile.

George eyed me carefully and said, "Well, every male will be looking at you with lust, and every female will be saying catty things about you. I will certainly be glad to take you to dinner in that. Charleston has been called sin city since colonial times for good reason. You will fit right in."

George observed, "I see you are updating Bill. I thought you said that was too mean?"

I sighed, "Yes, I know. But you know a part of me is a little miffed at him for giving me permission to have an affair. Makes a girl feel undervalued. It would be nice if he acted a little more jealous. Makes me want to give him a little pinch to wake him up." I continued with an airy, snippy tone, "Well, he wanted to know everything. I will just give him a little pinch."

With that I showed George my unsent text. The text showed 2 emojis with wide open eyes and mouth, two smiley face emojis, text reading "Had to have second helpings," a blushing emoji, and a final line of text saying "Headed to dinner."

George looked perplexed, "Not sure I follow all of that."

I laughed and hit send. "Bill is an accountant, he loves everything in numbers. Come on let's go eat; I am starving. I'll explain on the way."

Bill

I was in the kitchen heating the lasagna and sipping my third stiff bourbon when the text from Ellen summarizing her lusty afternoon arrived. She was certainly honoring my request to know everything. Maybe in retrospect that had not been one of my better ideas. There is an unavoidable sting in knowing your wife is screwing another man, even if you gave her permission to do so.

She had used our flirting texting shorthand of emojis to mean two oral orgasms and two by intercourse. Ellen and I use the euphemism "second helpings" to refer to Ellen's wickedly skillful ability to raise my wilted cock after intercourse to full blown usefulness again in relatively short order. George, too, has now been a recipient of Ellen's devilish attention with hand, mouth, tongue, and lips that can raise a male member from the dead.

Well, judging from the text, Ellen has been a very busy and very naughty girl. For good or bad, she has embraced her opportunity for a condoned affair with gusto.

I opened the wine while the lasagna heated and sent a reply to my wife.

THE REST OF THE EVENING

Ellen

As George had predicted, my dress did garner some very long looks, especially from the men. I must admit I did enjoy the attention.

George was pampering me royally and ordered a bottle of lovely French champagne. As we sipped our champagne and debated menu selections, my phone vibrated. I glanced down at the text from Bill, and showed it to George: "You two need oysters!"

We both laughed and ordered a dozen oysters to share. I finally settled on the grilled scallops with creole rice, and George got the shrimp scampi. After finishing the delightful meal and champagne, I texted Bill with another little pinch aimed at him, "Oysters were great. Headed back to bed. I am dessert!"

The afternoon sex had been South Asian curry - mind numbingly hot, searing all the senses, almost painful in its intensity. In contrast, tonight's after-dinner sex was fine dining - Chateaubriand with Bearnaise sauce. It was soft, tender, and mellow with each morsel to be devoured lovingly and ever so slowly. We slowly and languidly feasted on one another.

Finally completely spent, we collapsed intertwined like spaghetti. I reached for my phone and sent Bill a text with three emojis with wide open eyes and two smiley face emojis. "Reporting to the accountant husband," I mumbled to George, but he was already fast asleep lake an innocent babe.

I luxuriated in the feel of George's warm, muscular body intertwined with mine as his breath softly warmed my neck. That delightful post coital languor permeated my fleshly being. I sighed contentedly as sleep began to creep up on me.

Then my guilty conscience started haranguing me: "You broke your marriage vows. Adulterer! Scarlet Woman! You let another man, a total stranger no less, thoroughly plow and seed your husband's private garden."

I grinned and whispered "Uh, huh, I certainly did do that, didn't I?"

Then I mentally slapped my guilty conscience with my husband's naughty-night-out pass, and it slunk off and sulked in the corner. I smiled with satisfaction and fell into a dreamless slumber.

Bill

I was cleaning up after finishing the lasagna and enjoying another glass of wine when Ellen's last text of the evening arrived. My wife's naughty-night-out pass had been eventful. That was an understatement. I poured the last glass of Chianti and went out on the porch.

THE MORNING AFTER

Ellen

I slept the slumber of the dead, and when I awoke, George was not there. I worried he might have left, but then I heard him stirring about in the sitting room. He would be leaving for his meeting shortly no doubt. I made a quick bathroom stop.

Then I brassily sashayed nude into the sitting area, eliciting a wolf whistle from George. Then I waltzed over and gave him a nice, long, passionate kiss.

Stepping back grinning seductively, I said, "See what you are missing going to some old meeting so early in the morning."

"Whew, that was a hell of a morning wake up call," he replied. "Alas, the meeting cannot be helped. However, I will be in Savannah in about six weeks. Will you meet me there?"

I was tempted but replied without hesitation, "No George, I can't. This has already pressed the limits of my marriage. I can't expect my husband to tolerate more of my hanky panky."

George said, "Well, I have no doubt you can wheedle anything out of Bill you want. I will email you the details of the meeting when it is finalized; just in case you change your mind or Bill says it's ok."

"Oh George, I just can't ask that of Bill. I just can't."

"Give it time. We have six weeks. In the meantime, I have ordered breakfast for you." He waved over to the table where a tray held enough food for several people.