Chance Encounter Ch. 32

Sunday afternoon, Jean told him it was time for him to call Roger.

Miguel had watched Jean arrange her trysts with Leo, but this was his first time to set up an assignation. Jean gave him a few pointers. She thought he should say sir when talking to Roger as a sigh of respect. He was she pointed out older and superior.

Miguel was nervous and actually stuttered so much Roger had to ask him to calm down and repeat what he said. Miguel said, "Sir, my wife would like to know if you are free this evening as she would like your company again."

Roger chuckled, "I think you mean she wants my cock again. You know what they say Miguel. Once you've had black..."

Miguel finished for him, "There's no going back."

Roger said, "You got it. Back to your question. I am free this evening. How does seven sound?"

Miguel covered the mouthpiece with his hand and asked Jean if seven was a good time.

She said it was.

"Seven is fine sir."

Roger liked being called sir and told Miguel he would see them at seven.

After Roger hung up, Miguel realized his face felt on fire. Whether it was from shame or arousal he couldn't tell. Jean noticed, but said nothing, She knew what he had done had not been easy.

She did tell him she was ready for another licking. She was Miguel noted very wet. She was also very vocal. Afterwards the two of them lay together on the bed their bodies intertwined.

She looked at his wet face and told him she loved him. He told her he loved her too.

She thought he looked fragile. She knew he was being pulled emotionally in two different directions and how hard it must be.

"Miguel, Thank you."

"For what?" he asked wondering if she was referring to the orgasm he gave her or the phone call.

"For calling Roger. I can only imagine how hard it was for you. Father says the first time is the toughest, but it gets easier."

"It was hard. Did you notice I stuttered?"

She kissed the bridge of his nose, "I did. You looked so cute asking him to come over and keep your wife company. When he comes over I think it would be best if you gave us some privacy for a few hours. I want him to feel relaxed. You have dinner while Roger has me. Afterwards you can have me for dessert."

He smiled but didn't laugh.

She said, "I thought what I said was funny. You know it's true. You'll want it bad, Your tongue inside of me cleaning me out, lapping up my lover's cum."

"It just sounds so nasty when you describe it that way Jean."

"You're being sensitive Miguel. It is nasty and depraved, but it's also wonderful and that moment when we reconnect defines us. It's our ritual Miguel. I'm not ashamed you like it and I'm not ashamed I like you eating me after I've been with other men."

"It doesn't gross you out."

"Just the opposite. To know your face will be down there between my legs, your lungs filling up as you inhale his essence, and your tongue tasting him, your excitement feeding mine, makes my orgasms so much better."

"Really?"

She nodded yes before softly kissing him on the lips and telling him, "Really. So if you what you like makes you awful then I must be doubly awful. Our reunions are the best."

He lowered his head because he wanted to suck on that nipple he knew would be swollen with lust because he knew this talk was as arousing to her as it was to him.

She groaned as he took her nipple into his mouth, "Suck it."

When he was done with that nipple he moved onto the other. Then he started kissing his way down her abdomen only to hear her tell him, "Stop. I want to save my Os for Roger."

He didn't want to stop, but he did, kissing his way back up.

"Jean, I want out of my cage tonight. It's been so long and I've been good."

She said, "True, but I like you in your cage."

He said, "Just for a little while. I want to be in you. I'll put my cage back on after. I just think we need to consummate our marriage."

Jean agreed saying, "You're right. It really would be unfair of me to not let my husband fuck me on our honeymoon. Promise me you'll put it back on afterwards."

"I promise."

She looked at the clock, yawned, said she needed a nap, wondered aloud if her fatigue was due to being pregnant or too much late night fun the previous night or both.

Miguel got out of bed, dressed, and went to the hotel gym where he spent several hours doing his best to burn off his energy. He returned to the room and assisted Jean as she prepared herself for Roger. He showered and dressed.

She had on a lavender nightie and no panties. The nightie barely covered her ass. Her tits he noted looked even larger. He didn't ask to stay because he knew the answer would be no. He told her she looked beautiful.

She asked, "But do I look fuckable."

He said, "Very much."

"Good, because I want Roger to fuck me a lot. Go enjoy dinner. Don't drink too much if you go to the bar. Roger will get you when we are done."

From his vantage point in the restaurant he could watch people as they walked through the lobby. He spotted Roger. Looking at his watch he noted Roger was punctual, something Jean liked in a man.

He took his time because he knew it could possibly be hours before they finished. He thought back to when he dropped off Jean and how miserable the wait had been. She had been quite cruel to him taunting him. He was glad they were past that stage. Her meanness had less to do with his inability to fuck her with the skill her lovers possessed, but her own feelings of guilt. Father had really been a big help. She no longer felt guilty about spreading her legs for other men, wanting to carry another man's child, or being the Alpha in her relationship with Miguel. She had finally embraced what she called her inner bitch.

Jose, the waiter, had nearly caused them to break up. She was so mean to him after she had been with him. It was better with Leo and by the time she began hooking up with Tommy her venomous behavior was gone. He knew Father was responsible for the change. He noted she was downright playful with him minutes before she was going to be with Roger when she had been the exact opposite with Jose and Leo.

He reminded himself she wasn't totally defanged and he was okay with it. In fact, humiliation had proven to be quite the aphrodisiac. He had been very turned on that day dipping his fingers into Jean's honeypot and licking them clean of Jose's ejaculate.

His penis attempting to get hard cursed him to fidget in his seat. There were instances where the damn thing was uncomfortable he thought and this was one of them. He moved his hips around in an effort to get the pinching where flesh met metal to stop. After he did he resumed daydreaming.

Those phone calls to Mrs. Flores had been humiliating as had all those times where she washed his cum stained underwear. Their hugs as she pressed herself against his cage knowing her daughter was having sex with another man. She had even become his key holder. He suspected she might not know who the father of Jean's baby was but she definitely knew it it wasn't Miguel. He concluded Mrs. Flores was very good at playing dumb when she was anything but. He felt he had developed some sort of fetish with her. Those memories had been as humiliating as they had been arousing.

Done with dinner he looked at his watch and noted he had only killed an hour and a half. He really didn't want to go to the bar because he wanted to be clear minded for later. He decided on dessert and coffee. He laughed as he thought how he would have to desserts tonight.

His waitress asked him, "What was so funny?"

He smiled and assured her, "I was just thinking about how much I like dessert."

She laughed and said, "I too have a weakness for sweets. They make the best chocolate cake. It's so good I feel like I'm committing a sin."

"That good?"

"Yes, it's that good."

"Well then, give me chocolate cake. And a cup of coffee. It's my honeymoon so I might as well indulge."

He didn't think he had consciously meant to share that information with a woman who had the same features, build, and age as his mother in law, but on a subconscious level he must have been dying to.

She left and returned with a pot of coffee. As she poured it, he noted she had big breasts like Mrs. Flores.

She asked, "Newlywed? Why isn't your wife down here? You're not having a fight are you?"

He offered up she wasn't feeling well. He must not have sounded very convincing or worse as an unfeeling cad because her words of empathy didn't match her facial expression.

When she brought him his dessert a few minutes later she said, "I don't mean to be nosy, but I'm going to give you some advice. You should be taking care of your wife. You could order room service."

He answered, "I agree, but it was her idea. She said she wanted to be alone."

"Women always say that, but they mean just the opposite."

"Trust me. I know my wife."

She looked skeptical, but she decided arguing with Miguel wasn't worth losing her tip.

She stood there. When he looked at her and tilted his head she answered, "I want to see you take your first bite."

He indulged her and damn if she hadn't been right. The cake was out of this world delicious.

She could tell just by his expression how good it was.

"See. Now do you believe me when I feel like I'm sinning when I'm eating that cake."

He said, "I believe you."

"You should take a slice to your wife."

"I think I will."

They talked a few minutes about the cake. He wondered why more people didn't know about it or why hadn't the chef opened his own place. She left him to attend other tables. When she came back the cake was gone. She refilled his cup of coffee.

"Do you want another?"

He told her, "I'm tempted, but I better not."

He had killed another hour. He decided he had better settle up his bill and maybe even take a short walk before heading to the bar.

She asked him if he just wanted his meal charged to the room. He remembered his in laws told them to charge their meals as they were picking up the tab. He gave her his room number and reminded her to add a piece of cake for his wife.

The waitress left. When she returned she looked a bit red in the face. He wondered if they were out of cake. He was feeling pretty relaxed with her and jokingly asked why she was so red in the face.

She smiled and said as quietly as she could, "Well, your room is the talk of the hotel."

"It is?"

"It's not called the honeymoon suite for nothing. There's a reason it's at the end of the hall."

"Oh." he answered, "I hope we weren't too loud."

She said, "Security was up there an hour ago because someone complained about the noise."

"Oh," the sinking feeling in his stomach ruining his dessert.

She sat down in the seat across from him. She looked very proud of herself as if she had solved one of the world's greatest mysteries.

"I've read about couples like you in Cosmo. You're swingers aren't you?"

Miguel answered, "We're not."

He could feel his cheeks burning.

"Then what are you?"

He said nothing because there was nothing to say.

"I wish my ex husband had been more like you because he wouldn't be my ex."

"Thanks," he said not feeling very chivalrous.

"I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay. I enjoyed talking with you. You don't need to be embarrassed. I just want to take you home and mother you."

She stood up and told him to get up and give her a hug.

Miguel had never felt so awkward but he stood up and gave her a hug. She squeezed the breath out of him, pressing her big tits against his chest. He noted she even smelled like Mrs. Flores. His penis had no room to expand, but he knew it had to be oozing a steady stream of precum as he hugged this stranger.

She didn't let go of him right away but asked how long he was staying and offered to be a shoulder if he needed to talk. He told her they had another night, but that he was fine.

Her crotch pressed against his. He moved his hips away but hers followed.

"Don't forget your cake," she reminded him.

"I won't," he mumbled, feeling very exposed, not to mention, embarrassed.

He exited the restaurant and headed to the bar which was quite empty. He ordered a drink. He tried to focus on the football game. Halfway through his drink he told the bartender he would be back and to watch the bag containing the dessert.

He headed to the restroom.

Inside the stall, he sat down. Urinating with the cage on was much easier he discovered if he sat. He also learned it was nearly impossible to not have to wipe after urinating. He had to admit he liked his penis being caged. It served as a constant reminder of Jean's ownership, his fidelity, and its worthlessness as a sex organ. It definitely left him feeling emasculated, a step or two away from being a eunuch.

He had stood up when the door tomthe restroom opened. He heard the deep baritone voices of two men. They were in a very good mood. They were at the urinal then at the sink washing their hands talking the whole time about their good luck with the freaky lady they had just hooked up with. It became very clear the freaky lady was his wife when they talked about investigating a noise complaint.

While Miguel had been having dessert the hotel security guards had been fucking his wife. He wondered what happened to Roger. He waited until they exited before opening the stall. The coast clear he washed his hands and splashed water on his face because he felt faint.

He headed back to the bar their graphic description of their debauchery playing in his head on a continuous loop.

"Them big ole titties swinging as I tapped that ass. Pow.pow.pow. Glad you were there bro to shut her up."

"She sucked my cock like a vacuum cleaner, all the way down her throat. She got a belly full of cum."

The sound of them high-fiving each other and joking before they left the restroom were forever burned into his memory.

At the bar he ordered a shot of tequila followed by two more. Fortified with liquid courage he decided there was no sense in waiting because Roger must have been long gone. He paid his bar tab and with chocolate cake in hand headed to his bride.

Jean was laying on the bed patiently waiting for his return. She had told herself to be calm, in control, and strong because she knew Miguel would be just the opposite.

She heard him trying to get the key in the door and wondered if he was drunk. She decided that might not be a bad thing. She could handle his anger.

He got the door opened and made his way to the bedroom.

The bedroom was dark.

Jean saw him standing in the foyer separating the bedroom from the living room.

"You're back," she said hoping she sounded cheerful, welcoming, tender, and matter of fact.

He didn't move.

She turned on the reading light which shone directly down on her naked body.

"I've been waiting for you. What's in the bag?"

"Dessert. Chocolate cake. It's really good."

"Thank you. I'll eat it later. Take off your clothes."

Miguel put the bag down and dutifully did as she asked.

"You look so handsome.i don't think I tell you enough how attractive you are. Was dinner good? Come here and join me."

Miguel got on the bed between His wife's legs and laid on top of her.

She said, "Kiss me."

She opened her mouth wide and thrustt her tongue into his mouth. He swore her breath smelled of cock. They kissed a long time.

She asked, not sounding upset but sweet, "Have you been drinking? I smell alcohol on you."

"Yes," feeling guilty he had been drinking.

"You deserved to drink tonight. It's okay."

She kissed him again. He loved her kisses, especially when they were so aggressive.

Their tongues dueled.

When they stopped she stared at him. He thought her eyes never looked so pretty.

He told her she was beautiful.

"Thanks."

He made no move.

"You know what I want now. It's the same thing you want. Come on."

He tried to fight the urge but she was right. She was he cursed always right. He wanted it. He needed it. She needed it too he told himself as though that made what he was about to do okay.

He worked his way down her hickie marked neck, her bruised breasts which had been squeezed too hard as if those men were checking their ripeness, down her belly, into her navel his tongue dipped, inhaling their scent as he rubbed his face against her pubis, loving the feel of her coarse hair. He kissed it, then nipped at her pubic mound causing her to squirm and groan. He was now stretched out between her open legs.

She loved how his tongue's first caress of her pink flesh took her breath away.

"Lick me," she implored.

His tongue lapped up one side of her labia then down the other before he used just the tip on her very swollen clitoris. She knew her clitoris was larger than most. Perhaps that explained her need to dominate. Too much testosterone she thought coursing through her veins. She was so much stronger than most women and a lot of men, but she looked very feminine.

When he finally got around to putting his tongue in her sweet hole, she covered her face with a pillow to muffle the sheer joy she was sharing with the other guests. The urge to scream passed so she set the pillow aside, but kept it close by for later

She pinched and twisted her nipples and thrust her pelvis against Miguel's face, fucking herself on his tongue which felt so damn good.

She loved how sex made her lose all control. Inhibitions out the window which explained why she didn't just allow, but actively encouraged the two security guards to skewer her. It was Roger's fault because she was minutes from having an orgasm from riding his big cock when the phone rang. Out of habit she picked it up hoping it was Miguel on the other end so he could listen to them.

Turned out it wasn't but a tip from someone in the hotel that security was on the way to investigate a noise complaint. Knowing his job might be on the line Roger had her hop off his hog, hurriedly dressed, kissed her assuring her he would see her again, and headed down the fire exit. He hadn't been gone a minute when the two men showed and it wasn't five minutes after that Jean was on the bed on her hands and knees as one of the guards fucked her doggy style while she sucked the other one off. Three great orgasms were had by all as one man filled her womb while the other filled her belly with their potent seed.

Afterwards she lay on the bed and waited for Miguel thinking how much fun she was having on her honeymoon. Now her sweet husband was licking all those men's babymakers out of her pussy.

Even though she loved Miguel and experienced wonderful orgasms with him she needed to remind him of his place in their marriage.

"That's it Cuck. Clean me out. I can't get enough big cock. You know I need it and so do you. You call the shots Miguel. Tell me you want me to stop spreading my legs for other men. You won't will you? You'd feel too guilty telling me to stop. You know your dick is too small."

She grabbed the back of his head and pulled it towards her crotch grinding herself against him. She wanted his face as raw as her pussy.

"Answer me Miguel."

He answered, "No. Yes, Yes," meaning he wouldn't stop her and yes he would feel too guilty and acknowledging his dick was too small."

She couldn't keep herself from twisting the knife when she said, "Because you're not man enough for me cornudo."

It felt good referring to him as a cuckold in Spanish a language he understood and spoke.

The three shots on top of the beer, the room reeking of sex, the taste of cum on her breath and in his mouth, his penis trying to bust out of its metal cage, his addiction to her having other lovers and worse the humiliation he craved, the savagery of her words, caused Miguel to cry even as licked his bride to an orgasm so strong she had to smother herself with the pillow.