Ascending Lauren Ch. 05

This narrative is part of a multi-part story. Reading previous chapters will enhance the reader's understanding of each subsequent installment.

This story showcases wife sharing, cuckolding, lesbian sex. If that is not your thing and you still read on, any emotions it triggers in you, is on you.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters are over 18.

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Lauren stepped from the shower onto the marble floor of the ship's VIP cabin. A towel wrapped around her head, she snuggled into an available white robe, noting a large "M" stitched over the left breast. In the bedroom, Corey was back in the armchair, watching a football game with no particular interest. He barely noticed his wife opening the bathroom door. Kneeling beside him, she put her hands on his knees. He shifted his gaze to her face, studying it.

"You okay?" Lauren asked uneasily. The tension was thick.

Corey managed a small smile. "Fine."

Lauren looked unconvinced.

"Were you surprised?"

"I don't think I could have been more surprised if the sun had exploded."

Lauren turned his chin towards hers. "You're upset about me planning this behind your back. I'm sorry, I just didn't know any other way to make this happen quickly while you were still in town."

"You really didn't give me time to think about it now did you? Max, Corey. Corey, Max. Corey, Max is going to fuck me now."

"I see," Lauren pulled back, slightly indignant. She tapped her fingers lightly on his crotch. "And yet, in the end, you weren't angry at all, were you?"

The 61-year-old shook his head. "It was hotter than anything ever played out in my mind. I mean, Myles' disclaimer was pretty clear about the cruise's agenda. We could have done anything else tonight, but we didn't. We sailed. Of course, I couldn't have known the surprise my lovely wife had in store," Corey joked. "I guess what I'm trying to say is, I'm not angry at the result, maybe just the way the cards were dealt. Please, next time, just deal me in, okay?"

Lauren feigned mild shock. "Next time? What makes you think there will be a next time?"

Corey rolled his eyes. "Seriously? How many times did you come today? Five? Seven? A dozen? Even on a good day that overpriced rubber dildo and I can't match that. There's no mystery here. Our age difference is catching up to us. I saw a little of myself in Max as he pounded you into those bed springs. That was me 20 years ago. You shouldn't have to give that up just because I'm a shriveling old man."

"You're not a shriveling old man," Lauren retorted, throwing her arms around his neck. "Well, maybe old. But your myold man! And don't make this all about me yet again, ya perv. You started this. Years ago, with all your tall tales. I saw you playing with yourself while Max made lov...uh...fucked me. You were WAY into it. If this continues, we'll need to find you a raincoat."

"If this continues" echoed in Corey's head. He cleared his throat. "Let's talk about that."

And talk they did. The long-married couple stayed in the cabin for the remainder of the excursion. Corey tried to articulate the mix of emotions he felt while watching Lauren with Max. It validated all those feelings he had anticipated. Passion and lust. The surreal experience of watching one's wife in a pornographic film, only live. And the angst, holy shit, the angst. A mixture of envy and jealousy coupled with a touch of shame for being perverse enough to enjoy it. He had read about it, felt it in a small way as he played out those fantasies alone in his Iowa bed, but nothing compared to experiencing it firsthand.

Lauren listened intently. She didn't quite fathom whyhe savored all those feelings, but it was clear he genuinely did. Many men did, in fact, if her online research and this "cruise" proved anything. So as his wife, she pledged right then to continue to understand and help evolve his desires. For her part, there was no denying she had enjoyed the thrill today. Her husband joining in for a threesome - something she had not anticipated - was icing on the cake. Lauren admitted this to him, and how happy she was to be able to give him what he had so longed for.

As her thoughts spilled freely, Corey could not help but wholly appreciate the change in her. Over the last few weeks, she had become way more confident in her sexuality. Not only was she now willing to dress provocatively, but had also developed those small idiosyncrasies during sex: the graphic cursing, her newfound love for facials, and being called names in the heat of the moment. All within a month. Hell, calling her a slut a month ago - under anycircumstance - would have meant sleeping on the couch for days. It was like some internal beast had come alive. But what more could a guy ask for? He told her so.

"Well," Lauren looked at him sheepishly. "There is more." She went on to tell him about the mutual masturbation session with Amy. She had never kept anything from him for very long, and she wasn't going to start now.

"Damn, that's hot," was all Corey could utter, picturing his wife and the young blonde staring at each other from across the room, their fingers dancing in their own wetness. His erection returned and he carried Lauren to the bed. They kissed tenderly and passionately, not fucking but making love. Afterward, they held each other tight until the captain made the inevitable announcement that they would be docking soon.

Gathering their things, the couple went to the aft deck. Goodbyes were in order, and they made the rounds, acknowledging appreciation to the other guests for allowing them to participate in their outing, and begging forgiveness for not spending more time with the group. They seemed to understand, a few even mentioning they "heard" the newcomers had indeed had a good time. Lauren blushed. She had not considered the thinness of a ship's cabin walls.

Finally, with the yacht securely moored, the guests made their way to the gangway. Lauren's eyes searched for Max and Myles and found them leaning against a railing. She released her husband's hand and went to them, evoking smiles from both. Corey watched as she hugged Myles, then Max, and had a brief conversation. Less than a minute later, Lauren returned to Corey's side. The two walked down the gangway in silence, hand-in-hand, knowing that they were, in no insignificant way, closer as a couple now than when they boarded that morning.

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There was a flurry of activity the next morning. Between a call with their daughters about a Thanksgiving reunion in Iowa, and Corey packing for his noon flight, there was little time to discuss anything else.

Standing in the half-circle of the apartment building's driveway waiting for a taxi, Lauren folded her arms around her husband, thanking him for the visit. "It was interesting to say the least," she commented, caressing his shoulders. "Wouldn't you say?"

Corey agreed. "That was beyond a doubt the naughtiest thing we've ever done." He paused as if in deep thought, searching Lauren's eyes.

"I was thinking last night. You know the hospital project won't be over until first quarter."

"So?"

"So, I won't be back for a while. Permanently anyway."

Reading his face, she realized what he was alluding to. "You mean? Without you? Oh, I don't know, Corey."

"Why not? Whether you want to admit it, you're a different woman now. Expanded boundaries. You can't tell me you wouldn't enjoy doing that again. And from what I saw the other night at happy hour, you aren't lacking any admirers around here."

"And how exactly would you get off on that?"

"I'd be happy just to know you were being satisfied."

Lauren frowned. "Uh huh. I call bullshit."

"Okay," Corey conceded, looking down, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. "I'd want the play-by-play. Maybe you could even record it."

She slapped his chest. "Video? I think not!"

"Video, no video, doesn't matter. Either way, I'm okay with it if the opportunity presents itself. I just want to know."

Lauren pondered this, caught off-guard. This was an outright hall pass. Not a hint. Nothing cryptic. Her husband was flat out giving her permission to have sex with others.

As the taxi rumbled into the driveway and the trunk popped open, she put her forehead to his.

"Okay," she whispered with one last wet kiss. "I'll think about it."

With that, the man she had been married to for 28 years jumped in and closed the car door. She waved until the cab rounded the corner at the end of the block. Turning towards the front lobby, the warm wind whipped the hair across her face. She didn't mind. It hid the single tear running down her cheek. Alone in the big city once again.

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The next few weeks saw Lauren at her office desk 12 hours a day. Early mornings, late nights, site visits, vendor meetings. If she wasn't sitting in her office, she was busy checking email into the wee hours of the morning from her apartment. The honeymoon phase for the new 48-year-old executive was clearly over. Fortunately, she was able to have lunch with Amy. The younger woman hung on every word as Lauren regaled her friend with the recent adventure on the high seas. It came as no surprise when Amy - in a moment of self-confession - admitted to sleeping with Max as well. Lauren knew it! The way Amy and the club owner had looked at each other that night at the bar was not one of just a pure professional relationship. The two friends giggled over their mutual lover and promised to "compare notes" later.

In addition to learning how to juggle five large offices over a multi-county area, Lauren soon found the weather in Miami wasn't always sunny and mild. The rain started one Friday morning a few weeks after Corey's visit. It was the first tropical depression in South Florida since living there, and it blew in with a vengeance. The storm pummeled her office windows relentlessly, disrupting her concentration. Iowa had storms and the occasional tornado, but this was on a whole other level. By the time she dragged her harried mind and body from the office that evening, the weather had worsened. Taking a cab - something she never did living so close by - briefly appealed to her, but it appeared everyone else had the same idea. Unable to hail a taxi, she opened her umbrella and started walking the three blocks home.

Hugging the edge of the high-rise facades along the way helped somewhat, but there was no escaping the driving rain. By the time Lauren reached the street on which her apartment building was located, her stylish heels, nylons, and pencil skirt were thoroughly soaked. Aggravated, cold, and hungry, the neon glow of the take-out sign in the window of a nearby café enticed her. At that point, nothing sounded better than curling up on a couch with ready-made hot soup and a glass of wine. Pirouetting across the street to avoid the puddles, the stressed-out office manager almost made it to the far sidewalk with just a soggy bottom when a passing delivery van hit a large pothole. No umbrella was a match for the cascade of water heaved onto Lauren, completely drenching her from head to toe. She stood for a minute in disbelief. How could this day get any worse? Defeated, she opened the door to the small restaurant and walked to the counter, not noticing the young man sitting at a small table in the rear.

A heavyset older woman in her 70's - "Mary" if her name tag was correct - stared impatiently from behind the deli counter at the new customer.

"A bowl of vegetable soup to go, please," Lauren muttered as the rainwater pooled at her feet. She looked like a drowned rat, long black hair hanging down in a stringy mess, clothes clinging awkwardly to her body.

Tommy had looked up from his laptop when the café door opened and allowed a wisp of wind to whip through the restaurant. At first, he didn't recognize the woman with the forlorn look on her face. Not until he heard her place the order.

"Lauren?" he asked cautiously from his table, not sure it was even her.

Turning toward the voice, Lauren smiled. A friendly face is just what she needed right then.

"Hey, Tommy. Why are you always around when I'm drowning?" she asked bravely, looking like she was ready to cry.

The boy ran his eyes over her body. The deluge had caused her skirt to become skintight and her red silk blouse to hug her small breasts.

The clerk rolled her eyes as she watched the young man ogle the drenched woman. "Soups are all gone," she announced with a sigh.

Great, Lauren thought, the one thing that would have salvaged this crappy day.

Seeing the disappointment in her eyes, Tommy hesitated for a moment, then spoke up.

"I could make some for you," he offered, a smile spreading across his youthful face. "I'm a pretty good cook. Great actually."

Lauren managed a weak smile. "I'm sure you are. But its Friday night, shouldn't you be out with your friends?"

"In this? Nah, I was planning on spending it in anyway. Parents are out of town and I have a business paper to finish."

"I don't know..."

"Please? I have all the ingredients, and I never get to cook for anyone that can really appreciates food, only Tony and assorted idiots. How about a trade? I feed you, you critique my paper."

Lauren brushed a strand of wet, stringy hair from her face, her makeup finally giving in. She nodded.

"Sure, why not? But I have to change my clothes first."

"How about one hour at my place? My suite is the side door in the short hallway, adjacent to my parents." Not giving her a second chance to decline, Tommy excitedly stuffed his laptop into his backpack and quickly dashed out into the driving rain.

"Thank you..." she called out, the wind drowning out any chance of him hearing. Gathering her umbrella and purse to leave, she turned to find Mary eying her smugly.

"Enjoy your hot meal. I know I would."

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Lauren lingered in the shower, thankful to be out of the cold water and into the warm. She began reassessing her willingness to have dinner with Tommy. What the hell was she thinking? The kid had just turned 21, younger than both her daughters. She should have been firmer, resisted, but he had caught her in a vulnerable state. Recalling how good he looked standing at the side of the pool, his trunks clinging to his legs and crotch, she aimed the jet from the shower head towards her bald pussy. Maybe, just maybe, Corey would get his wish tonight.

After showering, Lauren sat at her vanity and called her husband using the phone's video app.

Corey squinted at his mobile as he watched her apply fresh makeup. Makeup? It was 8:00 at night.

"Going somewhere?" he asked, rubbing the stubble on his chin.

"As a matter of fact, I am. You'll be happy to know I have a dinner date!"

Lauren saw one gray eyebrow pop up and tried to hide her smile. Teasing him was going to be fun. She might just enjoy their evolving relationship as much as he. Seeing a chance to put a check mark in his kink column, she went full-on harlot with her makeup, just like when Amy painted her for the pub crawl. Well-defined penciled brows, heavy satin blue eye-shadow, and thick, dark azure lashes. She topped it off with ruby red lipstick, smacking her lips together.

Corey pressed her for information. "With Amy? Someone from work? I heard the storm hit today. Is it safe to go out?"

Lauren turned to the phone. "No, that's the best part! Its with a neighbor. I don't even have to go outside." She was deliberately piecemealing information.

Corey's brain went into overdrive. What neighbor? One of the happy-hour posse that was at pawing her? Another woman tenant? Someone else?

"Who would that be?"

"Do you remember Tommy? You met him when you were here, on the roof."

Corey swallowed. "The masseuse. Yeah, I remember." That was the young man who had rubbed her shoulders while he watched from the shadows. He also remembered the boy's incredibly muscular build.

Lauren told of the encounter in the café and the boy's offer to make her dinner.

Corey felt a pang of jealousy as his dick began to twitch with the possibilities. "That was nice of him."

"I thought so," she replied, standing up and shrugging off her robe. He could see her slim contour as she pulled on a pair of black lacy underwear and walked over to the closet, gathering her straight black mane behind her shoulders.

"Can you help me pick out something? Something casual?"

Her husband thought for a moment. "Jeans?"

"That's what I was thinking too," she acknowledged, holding up a pair of low-rise dark denim skinny blues. Slipping into them, she looked toward the phone and rotated once, her hair swinging outward from her topless body. The zipper was in the back, its small gold teeth running from the top of her waist, between her apple-bottom butt, to the middle of her crotch. This made for a very healthy cameltoe.

Corey's erection began to grow. The tight jeans sat low on her bare hips. She looked so hot!

"Top?" Lauren asked, rummaging through the closet. "Wait, I know."

She pulled out a thin long-sleeve white gauze blouse. It was nearly transparent. Once on, it fit like a glove, the button between her bra-less breasts straining to remain shut. Her small tits pressed against the fabric with dramatic effect, nipples and aureola clearly visible.

"Too casual?" Lauren asked, twirling around again.

No answer from the phone.

"Corey?" she asked, fearing a disconnection.

"Um, yeah, I'm here. The button, between your breasts, it looks like its straining. Why not help it out?" he suggested anemically.

Lauren did as he recommended, unfastening it, and then to his surprise, the one below that as well. This left a small sliver of bare tan skin visible between the two sides of the blouse, from her neckline to just above her navel, with a hint of a tan line crossing over where her bikini top would have been. She could feel her husband devouring her through the phone.

"Are you okay with him making me dinner? I won't go if you don't want me to."

"No, its fine. I want you to enjoy yourself," Corey croaked back.

Lauren picked up the phone and looked in her husband's eyes. She could see his kink was flaring up and decided to nourish it.

"Are you sure? What if he wants to eat more than soup for dinner?" she asked coyly.

A low, soft moan came from the tinny speakers.

"That's what I thought."

Corey's voice was barely audible. "Lauren, I love you. Be careful. Are you ready to go?"

"I love you too," Lauren said cheerfully as she sashayed over to the nightstand, bent over, and opened a drawer. Doing so caused the denim to stretch tightly over her small buns. From within she removed two shiny condom packs. She winked at the screen.

"Now I'm ready!"

Suddenly, the video chat ended, leaving Corey 1,500 miles away staring at the phone and a reflection of his very conflicted face.

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The trip from her 23rd floor apartment to the 7th was not a long one, but enough to give Lauren one last chance to back out. She didn't know whether her husband's kink would be fed that night - or even if there would be the opportunity to - but she did know her pussy had been soaked after seeing the boy in the cafe. Kumiho was definitely awake.

Arriving on Tommy's floor, she walked past the entrance of the main suite and around to the side door, just as she'd been instructed. Taking a long, deep breath, she pressed the doorbell and waited. Moments later the young man opened the door with a huge grin. Lauren handed him a bottle of wine and slowly glided in, ass rocking up and down. She could feel his young eyes upon her. The suite was nicely decorated - better than one would expect from a college student - and a mild aroma of lavender was present. The lights were low, and candles burned throughout the apartment. He was clearly used to entertaining girls here.