A Not So Prim & Proper Wife Ch. 02

Author's Note: This is the second installment of a story written for a friend. By way of explanation, I have written this, and the first chapter, as a favor to him, describing things so the story would appeal to him. Some may not care for the enhanced descriptions, or points of view of the characters. If you are going to leave a comment, please don't delve into those aspects of the story. This writer doesn't care about your political views. Also please note that the Author will take stronger credence with those critiques that have actual names on them, as opposed to anonymous, bigoted or otherwise biased blitherings. To clarify, if you are going to shoot your mouth off, grow a spine and identify yourself.

I hope you enjoy...

*****

"I don't know."

Those words struck like a hammer into Daniel's gut. His wife had just told him she didn't know what she was going to do, or who she was going to choose. Her husband, and her marriage, or some black guy who was now standing naked in their bedroom.

His wife lay across their bed, her satin skirt laying gaped and open, exposing her full modesty to the room, which was also occupied by another man. A tall, wiry black man named Ofi. Ofi was Tessa's boss, of sorts, and had just finished bedding the buxom, trim beauty. He stood there, his long, thin black cock dripping the very last remnants of post-ejaculate onto the carpet.

There was a long, awkward silence, as neither man knew exactly what action to take. It was clear that Tessa had not been raped, and she had given herself to Ofi willingly. It was also clear that Ofi had taken his full satisfaction in her as well, which was why Tessa was a little light-headed, and confused. Multiple screaming orgasms did that to women.

"You better go." Tessa said, and Daniel was first to spring into action. He left the room, and made his way down the hall. To where, Tessa could not say.

Ofi, for his part, began to pick up his clothes, in a purposeful and hurried way. There was no doubt he was leaving via the back bedroom sliding glass door. To use the front door might be suicidal. Having gathered his garments, he bent low, and was planting a last, deep, passionate kiss on the softly parted lips of the white wife he had just made passionate love to. It was a kiss Tessa returned, perhaps out of instinct, maybe desire, maybe manners, to return like for like.

When Daniel returned, after having run to the entry way closet to bring his baseball bat, he saw his wife being deep-tongue kissed , with her soft voice moaning. That was enough for Daniel to spring into action.

"Get the FUCK outta' my house!" he bellowed, and made steps towards the black Casanova, the bat rising above his head, white knuckles gripping the handle. In that moment, Daniel would very possibly have killed.

Ofi, for his part, took discretion as the better part of valor and made his way out the rear, leaving the door open in his wake, and he scampered as quickly as he may around the side of the house, his bare feet padding down the soft grass, right past the partly opened blinds of the neighbor. Stopping in front of his car, Ofi hurriedly dressed, letting anyone see him, including the neighbor, who was becoming very interested in the goings on.

Back in the bedroom, Daniel roared at his wife. "What the hell are you doing? Kissing him like that? What the hell is wrong with you? You're my G__d_mn wife!"

Tessa, faced with a suddenly more furious than she had ever known husband, recovered quickly and sat bolt-upright. "Daniel... please... stop! I can explain!" She was starting to sob, as the enormity of what she had done hit her.

"Just shut the fuck up!" he roared at her. "Don't talk to me!" and he left her in the bedroom, slamming the door shut, leaving Tessa all alone.

That night was as tense as the enemy lines on a battlefield, with Daniel making a bed on the couch, while Tessa undressed and showered, her gentle sobbing gushed into a geyser of tears in the shower, and she didn't get out until the water ran cold. Looking at herself in the mirror, her eyes were puffy, bloodshot, and even a little sore. Her eyes looked like the wreck she felt, inside and out. Pulling on her satin sleep-shirt, she snuggled into the satin sheets on the bed, and began to recount her 'business meeting' with Ofi, and where it all went wrong.

The answer wasn't so simple, or a single thing. It was the combination of many. Her husband who left her lonely and needy too often, bottles of delicious wine, the showering attention of a man, the risqué attire she wore, and the opportunity to sate a natural need. The math added up. Whose fault was it? In short, everyone's. The math helped her quantify and deal with the situation, but it did not assuage her guilt, and she began to sob fresh tears, fearful of the damage done to her marriage, until she cried herself to sleep.

Daniel, for his part, kept plotting different ways to commit murder and get away with it. Fortunately for everyone, he just wasn't very creative in that area of expertise. He finally poured himself a double scotch, downed it, and then a second, topping it off with a highball of a third. Before Tessa was out of the shower, Daniel was sleeping with aloud snore.

Tessa let loose a soft whew after peeking out to discover where her husband was. She had been afraid he had up and left the house. Closing the door oh so very softly, she slid into bed, and curled up, hugging the pillow as she fell into a slumber filled with dreams. Erotic ones.

"Ofi, no, no! Please don't cum in me!" she cried out.

"You're MY bitch now, so shut the hell up!"

"No, no! Please don't make me your bitch!" Tessa was begging, as the belt around her neck functioned as a collar, with Ofi holding the bitter end. "Please don't get me pregnant!"

Ofi looked immense, stronger than steel, and more powerful than a bulldozer. His iron grip held the leash of sorts, and pulled her to him, as his cock plundered her depths faster and faster. His thrusting was a frenzy, until he bellowed out, his voice howling as he gave that final thrust all women know, his black cock ejaculating, spurting his hot, sticky baby-makers at her quivering, sipping cervix. Tessa screamed in fear.

The cry awoke her, and she was surprised to find it was daylight, and she was in her bed, safe, but alone. The cry had also spilled over into her voice, and it brought Daniel to check on her. She was sobbing in tears, wetting the pillow and layering snot on it, as well. Seeing she was alright, Daniel shut the door again. He had a lot to think about. He was very angry.

Tessa, for her part, had a lot to think about too, as well as worry. She had done a lot of damage; she also had a stranger's semen deep inside her. What if she was impregnated? It was not the exact right time, but within the realm of feasibility. Would she have an abortion? Could she bring herself to do it? What if Ofi said no? Where they lived, both partners had to consent, without a judge's decree. Could she be required to have a baby from a man she was bedded by in a moment of passion? The only exception to the abortion requirements was a case of rape or incest, and she could not lie about the fact the sex had been consensual. It would not be proper to lie in court.

Then there was her husband. She could not believe how stupid she was. She tried to rationalize it. His focus on work, rather than her, his physical dimension compared to that long gun Ofi had. The drink, the wine, the seduction. All of it whirled in her mind and she started to sob. After about 30 minutes, she drifted off to sleep.

For his part, Daniel had received a phone call from his boss, and he had been summoned to a very rare weekend meeting. There were going to be some higher level managers present, and they wanted to hear where things went wrong from his side. They had already heard the customer and vendor side of things. So Daniel had to sneak into the bedroom, so he could grab what he needed and be dressed appropriately. He saw Tessa sleeping, and left her alone, departing the house without even a note where he was going. For obvious reasons, he was still furious with his wife.

The meeting didn't go well. Daniel told his side, and while there were some obvious agreements, there were also some discrepancies. After almost three hours of conversation, Daniel was told to plan on another trip the following day, and say whatever he had to as a way of making amends. Apologize, beg forgiveness, whatever it took. While it wasn't blatantly stated, his job was on the line. This was just the worst possible news for him.

He had to somehow make amends by kowtowing to people who were outright lying to his bosses, and he had to sacrifice the rest of his weekend to do it. Then there was his wife. Their marriage was at a crucial point. He could no longer be comfortable in the knowledge his very pretty and alluring wife was his and his alone. She had a suitor. Not the 'hey, your wife's hot!' kind of suitor, but the predatory, plant his seed deep inside her kind of man who was planning on stealing her away from him. On top of all this, he had to leave her behind to save his career.

When Dan returned home, Tessa was in the kitchen, freshly showered and wearing her pink satin robe, the sash tied tightly to keep the hem closed at her upper thigh region. Not that she was afraid of showing her husband anything, just because she was insecure, and needed something to shield her from the fight that was sure to come. She had been nibbling on a cold English muffin when she heard the front door shut. Swallowing nervously, she steeled herself for what was to come.

Dan, for his part, saw his wife, and for the first time, ignored her. He went to the refrigerator, grabbed a beer, and left without so much as a word to her. Under pre-Ofi circumstances, she would have been bent over the table as he rammed his dick into her, simply because he liked the way she looked. Soft, cuddly, cute, and oh-so fuckable. With her nipples plainly poking into the silky satin, it was obvious she was braless, and he was sure her panties were in the drawer, still. Yet he could not bring himself to talk to her, out of fear his anger would boil over. A shitty day, his wife doing a very shitty thing to him, and he had no outlet. So he kept quiet until he reached his office door, then he slammed it as hard as he could, pictures hanging on the wall shaking and shifting, while the loud bang made Tessa jump. Not knowing what to do, she sat there, her mind numb as she contemplated what to do. Or rather, how to do it.

Twice Dan emerged from his office, once to get another beer, and once to use the toilet. Waiting in the den, Tessa had changed into something she knew Dan liked, her calf-length red satin off the shoulder dress, the hem of the skirt widely displayed in a near semi-circle, and red "fuck me" heels. Her panties still remained in her drawer, as did her bra, as the way the dress hung from her upper arms disallowed a one. She had curled her hair, put on smokey makeup, and even her vanilla perfume. She was going all out for her man, to show him she was his. He wasn't speaking to her, and that was tearing her up inside, but she would make every effort until he did grace her with his voice. Hopefully, even more. Despite how intense and amazing the sex was with Ofi, she desperately wanted to make love to her husband.

Dan, for his part, was angry, but he was still a man, and when his eyes saw what she was dressed in, his erection twitched, just a hint. Still, he said nothing, drinking his beer as he made his way back into his office, though not slamming the door. Tessa took that as a sign of hope, that there may be an end to his cold shoulder soon. After another hour, he had not emerged, and Tessa needed to stretch her legs, so she got up, and went to the front door, leaving a note for her husband.

"Dan- I am just down the street for a short walk at the park. I'll be back right away. I love you, and I am SO sorry!" she signed it with her T and slowly, quietly stepped outside, into the twilight of the fading day.

The street was relatively quiet, most people having either gone out for the evening, or simply staying in. The weather was nice, with little breeze, making every footfall of her stiletto heels click and clack on the tidy sidewalk easily recognized. It was a typical suburban neighborhood, white picket fences, some back yards hedged by a row of trees, and some not, some simply a wide-open space shared with neighbors. Dan and Tessa's home was one of those, as when they moved in, it had been a stretch to afford it, and now more affluent, they simply had not gotten around to it. Their neighbors were good people, at least on the surface.

One neighbor, however, had watched Tessa depart, alone, and looking extremely pretty and feminine. Placing the TV in the far corner had been sheer genius, allowing him to be entertained, while at the same time keep a pervert's eye on his sexy neighbor. Her display of dress and grace caught his eyes easily through the partially open slits of the window blinds. Unlike his own wife who had let herself go. The figure of his wife was a hefty pear-shape, while Tessa still kept a trim, hourglass figure. As she walked down the sidewalk, he could not help but admire the kick of the skirt as her fine calf and the ankle-strapped pump shined in the street-light. The sway of her hips made the hem of the skirt swish and sway with every step, and he had never wished and prayed for a windstorm so badly in his life.

Where is own wife's ideal of dressy was a nicely-weaved sweater and a long skirt with flats or low heels, Tessa was every both the display of fine and refined womanhood. He was envious of Dan, and coveting Tessa in the worst way.

Tessa, for her part, was completely ignorant of her neighbor, a man named Roberto, and his lecherous desires. Though he was a cordial neighbor and sort of friend, the couples had never really bonded. As a result, Tessa never paid a lot of attention to them, unless they were outside together. The conversations were polite, even enjoyable, but Roberto wasn't the type of man to light Tessa's fires. Roberto was not exactly the most attractive man in the neighborhood, overweight, and seemingly leaking sweat in a snowstorm. He was a heavy-bones Hispanic man, whose flab belied some tremendous strength, his job as a warehouseman conditioning him to heavy labor, which he offset with large quantities of heavy fatty-meals and beer. His heavy frame and pot-belly made him a match of sorts for his wife, though he admitted he was working on it, trying to trim down. His wife, Carol, however, was simply enjoying the life of an empty-nester woman, with children and grandchildren who had moved a fair distance away, and she enjoyed her crochet and her television love stories. Together they were a decent couple, but other than that, not much. At least on the surface.

Tessa made her way along the street, simply looking at houses and the various states of lawn-care, her mind moving from who needed to develop a green thumb to Ofi, and Dan. She was muttering to herself, about how stupid she had been, and berating herself for falling into the arms of her illicit lover as she entered the park area. The park was a typical neighborhood park, with trees, lots of grass, a few picnic tables, a children's play area, and public restrooms. A sidewalk meandered around and throughout, and it was this path she chose, taking her deeper in.

Her self-talk evolved into how to escape this horrible trap she had fallen into, and reclaim her marriage. She had already decided she would try her best to save her marriage. Her involvement with Ofi would be reduced to the bare minimums, and even then, only at the workplace. Her attire would be fully professional for the man, as well. Next time she saw him, she planned to reject his advances, and place no doubt in his mind that she was a wife, but not his. It had been a one-time incident, and that was all. It had been good sex, maybe even great, but there was more to that to make a marriage, and she already had it. She loved her Daniel with all her heart and it was tearing her up inside for what he had done to her. Yes, she blamed Ofi, for the seduction, and the risk of pregnancy.

That stopped her short. The risk of pregnancy. It hadn't dawned on her until just then how it might be unlikely, but still possibly she was now pregnant. Pregnant with a black man's child. Her plan had been to make herself available to Dan any time and any way he wanted. But now she couldn't do that, the realization dawned on her. She had to be absolutely sure she was either not with child, or having Ofi's. She knew it couldn't be Dan's, because he had not touched her since her last period, despite how much she wanted him to. Her mind wandered back to the last time they had made love. As in really made love, not the climb aboard, get laid, and hop off kind of sex, but real, passionate love-making.

Tessa had stopped deep in the park, and leaned against the nearby picnic bench, and let her mind enjoy the memory of it, starting with Dan calling her on the phone, and telling her to dress nicely for a dinner date, as it was a special occasion. They would celebrate his new promotion! So Tessa did just that, showering and shaving her legs, even making sure to touch up her landing strip that worked as an arrow to her heat. She'd seen it once in a picture on the internet, and had been intrigued. Dan liked the small display of exoticness, and so she kept it up. After trimming, she pulled on her nice garter set, white with three straps to each leg, and then her white pair of hose. They were a new set, kept just for such an occasion, and so she drew them on, softly unfurling them as they slid up each smooth and soft leg. Next came her panties. Actually, for this outfit, she chose a thong. The string riding up her crack was a bit of a nuisance, but she liked the tight feel of the thin and small lace patch that covered her womanhood, a V-shape that exposed her landing strip, and even her pearl, when it would peek out from its sheath. She felt wicked and naughty when wearing it, and she hoped Dan would find it enticing, if not outright filled with lust for her.

Her dress was next, a pink silky skater-dress, hemmed above her knees. The skirt was wide and flirty, and yet long enough to not accidentally expose her unless she was twirled hard, or the wind came up. Sexy and yet proper. Her strappy high-heeled sandals came last, and with a dash of perfume and evening makeup, she was ready. They never even made it to the front door for dinner.

Dan brought home flowers, and as soon as his eyes settled on her demure figure, standing at the end of the foyer, front leg on its toe, knee bent, and her hands on her hips, she had that dazzling smile that was Dan's Achilles heel. Well, that and her legs, and her nice breasts, full, firm, and just right to hold onto. He set the flowers on the entry table and almost made a rush at her, scooping her into his arms, and carrying her back into the house, the front door not fully closed, as they made dinner a memory.

Setting Tessa on the bed, she lay back, lifting one knee and letting the hem of her skirt fall to her waist, while laying her hands over her head in submission to her man. Admiring her work, and her beauty, Dan seemingly made his clothes vanish from his body, leaving a pile of trousers, coat, and tie, and shoes and socks on the floor. His boxers landed with a fling somewhere in the room.

"You look so beautiful." He said, his eyes drinking in her beauty, and he lay next to her, the soft satin bedding caressing his skin, and helping his arousal grow.

"I love you, too." She purred back as he kissed her with a soft, lingering peck, that turned into a long, passionate lapping of tongues, her lipstick smearing on his lips, and then marking his cheeks as she kissed him, while he nuzzled into her neck, nibbling her tender flesh, and then her earlobes. Her styled hair fell into a fan about her head, and his hand slid up her body, feeling her curves, almost as if a massage through the silky polyester-blend dress. When his hands cupped her breasts, she mewed softly, feeling her nipples hardening as he squeezed them, her thin lace bra showing her nipples as they grew erect, and yet supported her form.