Hall Pass

The fingers of that one hand remain busy at my pussy, but then I feel his other hand that now holds the soap is sliding over the cheeks of my arse. "Let's get you squeaky clean all over."

"I told you before, Michael, don't touch me there, I don't like it! Back there is off limits," I warn him as I hear the soap drop to the tiled floor and his soapy fingers now slide in tandem in the intimate crevices, front and back.

"Oh, Heather, why are you such a prude?"

"Oh ... oh no, not in there!" I gasp as I feel a finger again press at my anal sphincter. "No, Michael ... stop that now!"

But he ignores my pleas. While I feel two fingers slide up inside my pleasure passage to which I have no objection, I can also feel one soapy finger on his other hand press in through my anal ring. "Get it out of there," I scream at him unsuccessfully.

The fingers of each hand work together and the thumb of the hand at my pussy finds my clit, encircling it. Oh my god, I can feel the tinging coming on. I don't know if the finger in my arse is contributing but it's not feeling as bad as I expected. I'm going to cum yet again - and quickly from the way the area behind my pussy is throbbing.

"Oh my god, I'm going to cum standing up, Michael, don't let me fall," I tell him, as if he doesn't already know. "And take that finger out of my arse? I've told you I don't like it there."

At least, I think I don't. Can that finger be helping to bring on this latest orgasm.

Oh, Michael, I'm cumming ... I'm cumming! Oh, yes ... yes ... YES, NOW!"

"Just enjoy it., babe!"

"Oh fuck, I need to sit down!"

"No, you don't, I've got you! Put your arms around my neck."

I manage to do as instructed, wrapping my arms around his neck, hanging on as the orgasm washes over me.

"Oh no, oh, Michael, don't let me fall?"

"You're ok, I've got you," he reassures me.

I feel my whole body slump as I surrender to the intensity of another orgasm with Michael holding me up with his two hands busy at the most sensitive erogenous zones between my legs, fingers of one hand in my pussy, and of the other inside my arse, each playing a part in producing the pulsing and throbbing in my lower body that has been another orgasm.

"Oh my god, that was so good ... so different for me. I've never ever done like that with Jason..." Even as the words leave my lips, I wish I could take them back. I've tried to avoid comparisons while with Michael, knowing how he is likely to use my words to put his cousin down. But even if I don't say anything, he must see how excited his fingers and magical dick make me feel, "Michael ... so fucking good! Oh, yes, yes ... Y-E-S!"

That was a big one, a really nice finish in spite of the discomfort of standing up to receive it. Michael pushes me against the back wall of the shower and stands in front of me, the stream of warm water cascading over his buffed body. He bends his knees and, with my head still hazy from having another orgasm, I feel him centre his long, thick hard dick at my vaginal opening and then he thrusts his hips firmly, driving the head of his dick deep up inside me again.

"No, not standing up," I gasp.

"Yes, babe, standing up!" But it appears that I am not required to stand at all. As I feel more of his erection slide up into me until I once again have it all, his hands cup around the base of my arse cheeks and, amazingly, he lifts my legs, my feet coming up off the floor of the shower stall. My back leans against the shower wall. I wrap my legs around his lower torso, locking my ankles at his arse. Michael is stronger than I expect. I doubt that Jason could lift me like this.

Michael then proceeds to give me the fuck of the night. He has amazing endurance and I have no idea how long we remain under the shower. I cum twice more from his dick driving into me and just when I think that he's never going to cum, he blasts one more load at my cervix.

When he's all done inside of me, Michael pulls his dick out of me and lowers my feet back to the floor. He needs to continue hugging me to him for a couple of minutes because my legs are so unsteady, literally shaking. This has been another night to remember with much more variation in sex than Jason ever tries. No, I must not make comparisons. I keep telling myself not to, even if this time, it's only in my thoughts and remains unsaid.

Michael turns the water off and leads me to stand on a mat outside of the shower stall where he dries me with a nice big fluffy towel. "I hate that you have to go so early, I'm sure I could get it up again if you want to stay awhile."

"No, Michael, thank you so much for another wonderful night, you truly are giving me everything I hoped for, but I must go home to Jason. On all five times that he did that slut, he at least always came home to me after, so with him offering me this hall pass to have you guilt-free, I need to respect him and do the same."

I drive home ... I am sure I have a perpetual smile on my face. Good feelings run through both my lower body and my head. I drive slowly, wanting to stretch out the length of the journey so that I can ruminate on how good everything has been again tonight. Oh, except for Michael twice slipping his finger into my anus.

I wouldn't concede it to him, but now that I am alone with my thoughts, I do accept that having just one finger in my arse in the shower contributed to the orgasm while the fingers of his other hand were rummaging in my vagina. I am possibly changing my position to accept that one finger might be acceptable ... but I won't ever take his long, thick dick in there That would be a step too far for me, a line I definitely won't cross.

Chapter Eleven

Husband (Jason) takes up the tale again

It's been another long painful evening, watching TV yet unable to concentrate on any programs while my mind whirls, picturing Heather in Michael's arms, that prick of a cousin doing things to her that I never have. I try keeping calm by counting the time down to 10.00, only to be disappointed when that hour comes and goes with no sign of Heather's return. 11.00: where can she be? Why would she stay with Michael a lot longer on this second date?

As the clock on the wall nears midnight, I am beginning to panic, contemplating calling Michael to ask, 'Where's my wife?' Thankfully, I manage to restrain myself going through that humiliation. Just as well I do, because right on midnight, I see the lights and hear the engine of my wife's car as it sweeps onto our driveway. My Cinderella is home.

I hear her key in the door. This time, I must remain calm, resist the temptation to demand to know what took so long. Heather appears in the doorway from the entry hall. Again, her hair is the giveaway, no longer as coiffured as when she left; in fact, it appears wet. She must have had a shower ... but no reason why not, I did to wash away the smell of sex after doing Melissa on five separate occasions. That seems so long ago now.

"Hello, darling," Heather calls to me from the doorway, "sorry I'm later than last time, but of course we started later tonight."

"Only a half-hour later," I correct, immediately regretting sounding contradictory. I don't want to irritate her as I did last time.

"Yes, well, maybe we did a little more. No, actually darling, I did let myself have a little sleep in between, so it wasn't all naughty business all night."

"In between what?"

"Oh, what do you think? In between our first fuck and our second one, of course. That's why I was there, wasn't it? Let's be honest. For all his boasting, Michael is not superhuman, Jason. Just like any male, he needs recovery time, as you do."

"So, you said a little more ... what was that?"

"Oh, Jason, we don't want to head down this path again, do we? Surely you don't want fine detail?"

"No, I'm just curious what doing a little more means, honey."

"You know by now that I don't like talking about what happens at Michael's place but I will tell you this much. He doesn't like missionary position. So, the first night, he took me from behind while we both stood at the vanity in the bathroom, watching ourselves in the bathroom mirror. Then, later he put me on top and I had to sit on him and ride him. Tonight, he gave in and let us do it missionary but after we slept, he did me in the shower in more ways than one."

"What does that mean? More ways than one?"

"Oh, do you really want to hear this? Fingering first until I came, and then standing up and him holding me upright on his dick."

"Wow! He's stronger than I thought."

"Stronger than I thought too, Jason. I was scared he was going to drop me."

"So, when's your next date with him?"

"This Thursday night, darling. Come on, it's late, let's go to bed and see what happens."

"Surely you're not ready for more after all of that?"

"I could be! I need to keep my hubby happy."

Chapter Twelve

Wife (Heather) picks up the Story on Wednesday

About 2.00 on Wednesday afternoon, a day before my next (the third) tryst with Michael, a courier arrives at the front door. He hands me a package, which I rush to open as soon as I close the door. Unwrapped, I hold in my hand a small cardboard box and I open it eagerly. Inside are two items ... although never having owned or used one, I recognise, from a brochure Jason once showed me, that the main object is an anal plug. A conical shape, thicker toward the base narrowing to a point at the top, like an inverted ice cream cone. Also in the box is a tube of KY, leaving no doubt as to what Michael expects me to do with these items.

I may have lived a reasonably sheltered sexual life, married to Jason, but I do know what it's for. I am immediately disappointed that my short-term lover will not take no for an answer to any form of anal sex, so I angrily pick up my phone to call him.

"Michael, I just opened a package which I assume has come from you."

"Oh, good, you got it! That's great! So, what do you think, do you like it?"

"No, I don't! You're not getting the message, are you? Just what do you expect I'm going to do with this?"

"I'll tell you what you're going to do. You're going to coat the plug with the KY that I have supplied, make it nice and slippery, and then gently insert the plug into your arse and leave it in there until you come to me tomorrow night. Do it now and leave it in your arse for twenty-four hours."

"And why would you think I will do that, Michael?"

"Because I am telling you to. You need to have your anal ring stretched so that when I do you in the arse tomorrow night, it won't hurt you as much as it would if I hadn't sent you this beautiful little trinket. Try it, you'll love it and, even more, you're going to love being introduced to anal sex by me. You'll never look back, you'll wonder why you never tried it sooner, babe."

"I won't be wondering that at all, Michael, because I won't be inserting anything into my arse. How do you think I know that? Because, I won't be there tomorrow night, nor any other night. We are all done, have a happy life. I hope you find yourself a third wife to bleed you dry."

"Oh babe, come on, don't be like that. You need to experiment sexually, open up new horizons."

"No, I don't, and your problem is you are disrespecting me by failing to accept what I've told you several times ... I don't want to have any form of anal sex with you. So, that's it between us, Michael ... goodbye."

He attempts to call back a few times through the afternoon, even desperately sends me a text message, telling me he won't press me any further to give in to anal sex. But I feel I can't trust him now. I could turn up tomorrow night and he could go ahead, overpower me and have me anally anyway. Yes, of course, if he did, I could go to the police, accuse him of rape, but given that I have advance knowledge of his intentions, why put myself through that ordeal? Best not to give him the opportunity in the first place.

Jason arrives home from work at 6.30; he appears to be in a grumpy mood, and I soon learn why. When I put dinner on the table and we sit down to eat, he tells me that he had a call from Michael during the afternoon, "The prick says you came ten times on each night that you've been with him. That's a fucking lot, Heather ... I've never known you to cum anywhere near ten in one night. Oh, maybe when we were younger and first married, perhaps about three times. Is he right, Heather, did you cum that many times with him?"

Thankfully, Michael has embellished the numbers in his bitterness stemming from my rejection of him this afternoon, so I truthfully answer, "Jason, it wasn't ten times on either night."

"So, how many was it then, you did admit you came with him?"

I naturally don't want to admit that I came more than double the number of times I've ever orgasmed with Jason in a single night, "Yes, I did, I told you I did."

"Well, if it wasn't ten, how many was it?"

"Does it really matter, Jason, I can't remember."

"He says you kept count and that you were amazed at how many orgasms you had with him."

"Err ... I don't really know; I think it was a few."

"Is he telling the truth about you keeping count?"

I feel cornered, what do I say? I don't want to lie. "It wasn't ten on either night."

"So how many times was it?"

"Jason, can't you see what he's doing? Your cousin always says things to get you riled up and he's managed to do it again. Don't fall for it! Tell me what time he called you?"

"Oh, I don't know ... err, about 2.15 ... why does that matter?"

"Because I can tell you exactly why he called you this afternoon and when you hear what I've got to say, I'm sure you'll be happy. I called him at 2.00 after receiving a package from him. Would you like to know what was in the package?"

I don't give him time to answer that, "I'll tell you anyway. The package he sent contained an anal plug and some lube that he expected I would wear in my arse for the next 24 hours to open up my back passage so he could have anal sex with me. Despite me telling him over and over that I don't do anal. So, I cancelled tomorrow night and any other night with him, Jason. I am done with your cousin for good. So, that's why he called you 15 minutes after I called him. He wanted to give you as much vindictive grief as he could, and you let him get to you as you always do."

My husband's face brightens, "Really ... cancelled him completely?"

"Yes, Jason, and all because he completely disrespected me, wouldn't accept my no to anal sex. I told him that's it, we're done."

My news for Jason that I won't be seeing his cousin anymore totally distracts him from pursuing me to give him a number for my tally of orgasms, which I obviously don't want to admit.

"Oh, honey, of course I am happy with that decision, but you still had three dates left on your hall pass, so does that mean you're giving up the last three? Are we all over this stupid interruption in our marriage that, admittedly, I caused?

"Jason, I don't know about that ... you had sex with Melissa five times, and I only got two with Michael. That does leave us uneven, don't you think? You did generously offer me five dates to match your indiscretion and now I'm three short. I might need to find another guy to use up those three delicious nights of make-up sex that you still owe me."

"But that would have you cheating on me with two guys, and I only cheated on you with one woman."

"And so, Jason, your point is... are you kidding me? Do you expect a medal or something because you were so good and only cheated on me with one woman? I think not."

"So, are you really going to look for someone else, honey?"

"Yes, I think I will. Do you have any suggestions? I have to admit that I didn't select very well. I listened to gossipers who recommended your cousin because of his big dick. I was thinking about whether I could find someone else while I've been waiting for you to come home from work. I like the look of the new young barista at the coffee shop, he looks like he could handle a woman like me."

"What? That young guy ... are you serious? He only looks about 25."

"That could be around the age I need ... a young stud. He might be able to teach me a thing or two. A bonus for you would be that I could pass on what I learn from him."

"Yes, well, be very careful what you might pass on to me from some young guy you're hoping to pick up."

"I'll be really careful, honey."

"So, what is it about the barista? Has he shown you any signs? Has he come onto you when you drop in for your daily morning coffee?"

"I don't know, he could have. I've seen him watching me while he makes my coffee."

"Honey, he's probably watching you because how many other customers of his would order a Frappuccino with extra caramel?"

"You seem to think I can't have younger, darling, what's wrong with younger? Your Melissa looks about ten years younger than us. That didn't deter you from having a crack."

"That would make you a cougar, honey."

"Labels mean nothing when you're looking for a good sex partner. Alright, if you don't think the local barista is for me, then how about your boss?"

"Are you suggesting Brian ... are you mad? Imagine how demeaning that would be to me ... it would be as good as telling him I'm not as good at sex as he is. Having sex with my boss could be an even worse decision than choosing my cousin."

"It's not all about you, Jason. You've had your chance to remain a faithful spouse and you blew it. I still have three more opportunities on the hall pass you offered me and I'm looking for a man who won't let me down in bed and one we can trust. One that won't go blabbing to the whole neighbourhood that he's had me."

"I'll give it some thought, honey, but definitely not my boss."

"And so will I, Jason ... a lot of thought."

Chapter Thirteen

Wife (Heather) continues

The following morning - a Thursday - I dress up as if I might be going somewhere special, even though my local coffee shop is as far as I go. I sit at a table close to where the young 20-something barista plies his trade. He gives me a charismatic wink and a nod when I sit. Somewhat promising since I fancy my chances with him, more so if he likes cougars. I while away the time sipping my coffee and watching him work. But soon, I note this barista gives a wink and a nod to most of his regulars and he doesn't stop for a moment. How do I expect to start up a conversation that could end in, "What are you doing after work?"

A constant stream of coffee drinkers keeps him extraordinarily busy. Does he even get time for a toilet break? Not only takeaways, but the place fills up until it appears that I have the only vacant chair at my table. A man of possibly more senior years than me, stops beside me, and asks, "Would you mind if I sit at this table?"

Damn! Yes, I do mind. I'm been sitting here, hoping this handsome young barista will need to take a break and he can occupy the one empty chair at my small table. I look around, hopeful of spotting another empty chair to which I could redirect this man. But there are none and I nod my head affirmatively.

"Are you a local here?" the man asks.

Oh my god, not only does he want to occupy a space too close for my liking, but now he wants to strike up a conversation. "Err ... yes, I am. I live just around the corner."

"Oh, I've never seen you in here before and, believe me, I do notice when a beautiful woman is nearby."

What the heck? Is that a pick-up line? Is he hitting on me? I don't know what to say, "Oh, that's so sweet ... but I'm not beautiful, thanks anyway for the suggestion."

"Don't downplay your beauty, my dear ... you most certainly are. I'm surprised I've not seen you in here before."