Bad Choice

Been a while, but I've been busy, and I can recommend a visit to India to everyone.

It was just a normal trip for me; four days away from home and three nights in a hotel, just like always.

And just like always I found myself down at the bar of the hotel I was staying in, and surveying the talent that just might make itself available a little later on.

Single or married, it didn't bother me. A fellow traveller or some local woman out for an evening's entertainment that I could provide her with. I had a gorgeous wife back home who I loved like no other, but once you've got the taste for a bit a strange, and the opportunity to exploit it, then it had simply become a habit.

Didn't hurt her a bit, did it?

--------

And there she was, my target for the night, more leg exposed than most women had in total, and a dress that barely performed its allotted purpose. Nice height, slender in a shapely sort of way, with a pretty face framed by her tumbling mass of dark brown hair.

My God, someone up there was looking after me and was offering me my perfect woman.

Send the barman over with a drink, even though I'd seen her reject two guys already, but one had to try anyway.

She accepted it!

A smile passed between us and trying not to look too eager, I casually wandered over and took the stool conveniently vacant alongside her.

"Michael," I introduced myself.

"Stephanie," she responded, giving me that knowing look.

"Care to join me on the dance floor?" I asked, knowing how my dancing skills could seduce many a woman into acts of indiscretion that they hadn't planned.

"No thanks Michael," she surprised me with, and left me a bit speechless.

"We both know why we are here Michael," she went on, grinning at my discomfort. "Why waste time on the dace floor?"

"You seem my sort of girl Steph," I grinned back.

"It's Stephanie," she corrected me, collecting up her handbag. "Let's go."

"Your room or mine Stephanie?"

"Yours," she answered firmly for good reason. "I'm not staying here."

With that I guided her out of the bar, my hand on her waist slowly sliding down lower with no complaint forthcoming, and jealous stares from half the bar that we were leaving behind us. My success rate was pretty high, but rarely had I seen such a beauty as this one, and never one so willing.

There was a catch of course and I should have seen it coming. But come it did as soon as the lift doors closed behind us.

"Hang on Michael," she said, removing my hand from her breast where I'd just placed it. "There's a few little conditions that we have to agree to first."

"How much?" I shot back, disappointed that I'd obviously picked up a working girl, rather than a woman there just for the fun of it. I'd been caught before and had paid before, but had never felt so willing to do so before.

"Wrong assumption," Stephanie giggled. "I'm not a professional, just a very happily married woman."

"I don't understand," I spluttered, feeling confused.

"My husband's fantasy Michael," she explained. "He likes to see me get fucked by another man, the silly sod. I think he's crazy, but I love him enough to give him what he wants, and so much the better if I have some fun pleasing him."

"I'm not sure about this," I answered warily, looking round the corridor that we'd arrived at by then, to see if we'd been followed. "I don't like the idea of an audience."

"Don't worry, he's not here."

"Where the hell is he then?

"Not here. Maybe at home or down at the pub perhaps," Stephanie teased me, grinning widely at my confusion.

"I still don't understand," I mumbled beginning to worry that perhaps I'd picked up a nutter of some sort.

"With this little thing I can grant my husband all that he desires Michael," she declared, dipping into her fairly large handbag.

"But that's an i-pad," I stated the obvious. "How is a bloody computor going to help?"

"A computor with a camera and a video facility Michael," she pointed out. "My husband can enjoy it to his heart's content, long after we've had our fun."

Bloody hell!

Weird! Kinky!

Never heard of anything like this before, and not at all sure that I could cope with it.

But by then we'd reached the door to my room and more important Stephanie had already started to undo the first few buttons of her dress.

"Key card," she demanded, holding out her hand, and I dumbly handed it over to her, any resistance blunted, following her into my room a few moments later.

"Nice room," she commented, setting up the i-pad on its stand, and aiming it into the room, and more specifically towards the bed. "Let's get this show on the road. Hubby likes to see the guys undressing me, so if I stand here and you stand this side of me like this, then you can take my clothes off. But do it slowly."

So I did!

She actually put her bra back on after I snatched it off too quickly and told me to take it off more slowly, which puzzling though it was, I was happy to do.

"Careful with my panties Michael. Don't tear them," she warned me, and then there she stood, my perfect woman, perfectly naked and perfectly available. Her amazing breasts round and full and big enough to hang just right without sagging. Slim waist and nice curvy hips with a firm flat tummy that ran enticingly down to her neatly trimmed little landing strip, hovering seductively above those juicy looking, pink lips.

Fuck!

"You can touch if you want," she invited me and I did, marvelling at the soft firmness of her body as my hands explored the wonders of her body.

I thought I'd explode!

"Why don't you take your clothes off while I just check this is getting recorded OK," she suggested, and in flash I'd complied, to find her pointing the bloody i-pad thing at me.

"Something wrong with this thing," Stephanie groaned unhappily.

"Don't ask me," I replied, being hopeless with computors, eager to get on with it.

"Why don't you go and have a quick shower Michael," she surprised me with. "I think I can see the problem. Hurry up back and I'll have it reset and we can get down to business."

Reluctantly I agreed, wondering how I was going to resist jerking myself off and risking a disaster, but aware that I was at the end of a hard day, and might not have been at my best in terms of hygiene.

A big mistake that!

Into the bathroom, shower on, jump in, soap up and rinse off and dry myself. Didn't hardly take five minutes.

Golly I was now ready for it and charged back out into the bedroom, my eager manhood out of the door six or seven inches before the rest of me.

Oh?

That's odd.

Where the fuck was she?

I didn't actually have to search the room to see that the bitch had gone, so I rushed over to the door, snatched it open but couldn't see a soul, and was hardly going to go looking without my clothes on.

Fuck the bitch.

---------

I was not a happy bunny, but once I'd got over the initial disappointment, I couldn't help but see there was a funny side to the whole thing, and that Stephanie, if that was her real name, and her damn husband must have been having a real good laugh at my expense.

Cheeky bloody cow!

If nothing else, it would get a good laugh back at the office with a few selected friends, and what the hell it would at least mean that I'd go home to my lovely wife pure in body and deed for a change.

It made me feel good that, and I did spend some time wondering whether I should cut down on my activities, as if she ever suspected then my wife Carrie would have my guts for garters and leave me penniless.

--------

"Hi Carrie," I called out as I entered my house the very next day, to be met by silence.

A sort of very quiet silence that was rather concerning.

"Carrie," I called out, but no Carrie answered, and there was no Carrie to found.

Then the phone rang.

"Is that you Carrie?" I demanded after snatching up the phone.

"No," answered a female voice.

"Who is this?" I demanded, my fears rising.

"Well you know me as Stephanie!"

"You bitch," I snarled down the phone. "What do you want?"

"I'm speaking on behalf of your wife Michael," she calmly informed me. "She retained my partner and I to help get evidence of your all too frequent infidelity, and you'll soon be receiving your divorce papers which I'm sure you'll find not too favourable."

"You bitch," I screamed at her. "You can't prove it. She's got no evidence."

"Remember the i-pad?" she chuckled.

"But it didn't work," I clutched at straws.

"Oh you men are just so gullible," she taunted me. "You deserve it if only for being so stupid."

"Stephanie please ..." I started to plead.

"Sorry I don't know anyone of that name," floated back at me, and with a click the phone went dead.

----------

I was fucked and didn't have a leg to stand on. I saw a copy of a cleverly edited video, which to my surprise started back in the bar when I'd joined her, so she must have had a colleague there, and ended with me stark bollock naked, grinning stupidly at the camera. The bit in the middle with Stephanie was more interesting of course, and the copy of it that they let me keep, was just about the only thing of interest, other than my clothes that I didn't get fleeced of in the divorce that they hit me with.

Couldn't help seeing the funny side of it though.

All that illicit sex that I'd been getting on the side, and the wife got me in the end for the only one of them that I didn't actually get to do the horizontal tango with!

There's a lesson there somewhere.