Introduction to Bryce Ch. 02

Houston

The three-hour drive to Houston was unfortunately uneventful. I was hoping that maybe I could slip a finger or two into her delicious snatch while we were driving or get her to stroke me a little, but Monica prefers not to play around in traffic. Not a big deal to me since the weekend was just starting.

We left before our hometown rush-hour traffic started and arrived in Houston after 7:00, so the driving was smooth and easy. We got to the hotel just in time: there were only two parking spaces remaining in their parking garage that's free to guests. She smiled and winked at me and said, "Good job," after the garage attendant informed us of our good fortune.

The lobby was packed. There was some type of conference starting the next day at the hotel, so there were dozens of people all checking in at the same time. It was obvious this was going to take a while, so I asked Monica, "Sweetheart, you wanna go wait somewhere for me, let me check in, then come and get you after I get the key?"

She scanned the packed lobby, probably looking for a quiet corner to sit and wait. Monica hates crowds so I knew she would not want to stand around in this parade of mostly nerdy-looking 30-to-50-year-old men. "There's a bunch of sofas over there in the corner behind the bar. Doesn't look too crowded over there," she concluded.

"Yea, that's a great spot," I said. "Looks like it's a free Wi-Fi lounge." Why don't you take your laptop with you and order a drink if you want? She gave a nod, and I was relieved to get rid of one of the six bags I was lugging in that long line. I gave her a couple of $20 bills, kissed her on the cheek, and warned her about connecting to any router other than the hotel's. For the first time since we arrived in the big city, we were about to be apart in a room full of men, so an immediate feeling of panic and jealousy came over me. She had only gotten a few steps away, so I inspected her hand to see if she had on her wedding ring. Nope. Then I remembered while traveling, she always kept her jewelry in her change purse in the bag she had hung over my shoulder as we got out of the car. She always said that wearing jewelry in the city catches the eyes of all the muggers. I've been married too long to know better than to argue over something so trivial.

So I watched my own wife's shapely ass in her favorite beige jeans as she strolled across the crowded hotel. It was probably only 30 seconds, but so many men stopped whatever they were doing—walking, talking, texting—to watch my wife, I kept repeating under my breath, "Ok. Any day now. Hurry up. They're looking at you." I knew instantly that all these men were ogling and fantasizing about my wife. I felt irritated by all the attention, but I couldn't ignore the enormous pride either. All these men were looking at my wife, MY wife. Damn was I a lucky man, I thought.

Monica took a seat at the back corner of the open lounge. It had about a dozen red leather sofas pointing in all directions, with a few side tables and concrete planters mixed in. Half of the sofas were occupied with middle-aged men working on their laptops or smartphones. I think I saw only one other woman, dressed in business attire and glasses, having what looked like a serious conversation on her expensive-looking phone. Monica in her casual jeans and long-sleeve t-shirt looked quite out-of-place. She sat down on the far sofa, directly facing me, and crossed her feet up on the table in front of her. She opened her laptop, and I glanced over occasionally to see confused looks on her face. After a few minutes, she closed the computer and set it aside, instead taking out one of our favorite country-style decorating magazines.

Bryce

I kept checking the time and only moved up about 3 spots in line over the next half-hour. I was bored stiff and got so caught up watching the five people who were obviously travelling together having an argument with one of the hotel employees, I never saw where the man--now sitting next to my wife--came from. Even though I was watching from at least 60 feet away, this appeared to be one very good-looking guy. He was clean-shaven with dark brown hair--almost black--and dressed in jeans and a pretty snazzy-looking long-sleeve buttoned black shirt. His muscular arms bulged against the sleeves and I could make our just a hint of dark chest hair poking over the top button. He was sitting with his legs spread, leaning forward over his own laptop but staring straight at my wife's big hazel eyes. He was doing a lot of talking and she seemed to be transfixed by his voice, never once looking away.

After a few more minutes of his blathering, she opened her laptop again and handed it directly to him! Wow, my wife who naturally distrusts strangers meets some guy in a hotel lobby and hands her new computer over to him in just a few minutes?? "Who is this guy," I thought. A few seconds later, he gave her computer back to her and she had a huge smile on her face, then pointed toward me and waved. I waved back and the stud who'd been schmoozing my wife also waved. Weird. She put her laptop back in her bag and they both got up and walked toward me. This was getting weirder.

They reached me just as I was finishing up with the hotel clerk. I grabbed the room keys and paperwork and turned around to face them both.

"Bryce McAllister," he said firmly as he reached out his hand like an old friend.

"I'm Lee and I see you've already met my wife Monica," I responded with a slightly raised eyebrow I was trying to hide.

"Yes, I was just showing Monica which Wi-Fi router to connect to. There musta been a dozen or so showing up on her laptop, and you can never be too safe, you know?"

I was starting to like this guy already. Offering my wife a helpful hand? And knows his technology? And judging by the sly glances he was throwing at my wife as she walked toward me, it seemed like we had a LOT in common!

Monica piped in, "Hey Babe. Bryce was just telling me he's from Idaho. You know how I've always wanted to move there!"

"Idaho? What brings you to Texas?"

"I'm actually going to the University of Houston. Working on my masters in mechanical engineering. I just got out of a meeting a few minutes ago with other lecturers participating in tomorrow's sessions. Was about to head back home. But it's like an hour's drive and I wanted to check my email before I left. Expecting a new project assignment by one of my professors."

"Oh, so you're going to be lecturing tomorrow? Wow, that's pretty cool. What topic are you talking about," I asked as I noticed Monica out of the corner of my eye standing slightly behind Bryce staring at his ass before moving her focus to his broad shoulders.

"It's on a new manufacturing efficiency methodology I'm writing my thesis on. The theory is only 2 years old, so there aren't too many experts out there, as you can see here, since they only managed to get a grad student to speak at this conference."

Wow, this guy really had it together, I thought. He seemed very smart, spoke very well, was undoubtedly very handsome, was quite muscular, and even smelled good. Yes, I was getting a little jealous. And the way my dear wife was looking him up and down repeatedly certainly didn't help matters.

Monica and I had discussed her fantasy of having two men at once for several years, but we both agreed that it was too risky to follow through with. What if I couldn't handle the jealousy? What if the guy fell in love with her? What if it drove a wedge in our marriage? What if he opened his big mouth and our friends or family found out? These things scared the shit out of us, and we both concluded that the only way it would work is if it were some guy that was a stranger, had no mutual friends, and didn't live close. Bryce seemed to fit the bill perfectly, but it had been months since we had joked about the idea, so I still wasn't quite convinced she was serious about it.

"Well, I gotta get going. I gotta get some reading and studying in tonight before my long day tomorrow. It was great meeting you guys and I hope your anniversary is everything you want it to be."

These last words caused a bell to ring in my head! Could "everything you want it to be" mean what I thought it meant? He started toward the revolving door and I glanced over to see my beautiful wife at my side watching Bryce's ass in his tight jeans and cowboy boots and uncontrollably raise her eyebrows. She was obviously impressed. I took off after him but he already made it through the door. Once outside, I saw he'd taken a left and was walking down street, presumably toward his car. I caught up with him in a few seconds and clearly startled him.

"Hey Bryce, you're coming back here tomorrow, right? Why don't you give me a call and maybe you can join us for lunch or something?"

"Yea, Lee, that would be cool. My last lecture actually gets over around 11:30 and I'm free the rest of the day. So I'll give you a call then?"

"Yea, that'd be great," I said and gave him my cell phone number.

He shook my hand again, said "Good night," and walked off down the dimly lit sidewalk. I watched him walk away and knew instantly what excited my wife so much. This guy DID have a nice ass. For a guy, that is.

After a 15-minute wait for an available elevator, we finally made it up to our suite on the 23rd floor. It was the nicest room we'd ever stayed in, but it wasn't quite as luxurious as the pictures and descriptions we saw on the Web. Still, two nights in this place with my lovely Monica was going to be a real treat.

We were pretty exhausted from driving and the long wait in the lobby, so we both hit the sack after quickly changing clothes. A casual peck on the lips and we were out within minutes, even forgetting to turn on the heat on this chilly night.

The Dream

I was startled awake by a very short outburst: "Fuck me!" There was a soft orange glow of early sunrise peeping through the narrow gap in the curtains. I turned my head to the right only to see a flashing "12:00" on the clock on the bedside table. So I reached over and glanced at my cellphone. 6:48.

I lay very still, not knowing if that "fuck me" I thought I heard was real or in my dreams. It was probably just the room next door, I thought. The bed seemed to be moving a little, back and forth, and I was starting to make out the sound of staggered breathing next to me. I looked over, but continued to lie very still and quiet. Monica had pushed the covers to the side, which was surprising because it was so freakin' cold. Her hair was strewn all over the place and her pillow was nowhere in sight. She was lying on her back looking the other way, her hips gyrating in a circular pattern with her knees slightly bent and her legs spread wide. Her t-shirt was pushed just up over her tits and she was holding her left breast in her hand, and I became transfixed on her nipple as she rubbed, pinched, and rolled it between her thumb and forefinger. My mouth and eyes were now wide open and my cock was at full attention. Wow, what a sight!

I shook my head slightly, as if to wake myself from this dream. I looked down and watched her soft belly and sexy bellybutton for a while before continuing south to see how busy her right hand was. She had three fingers stretched out flat rubbing her clit and labia in long, slow strokes. The crotch of her panties were bunched up in a drenched clump and didn't even need to be pushed aside for her to gain access to her most sensitive areas. The white lace barely resembled fabric at all anymore and looked more like a few threads bunched together.

I continued to lie still, pretending to be asleep. I did not want to interrupt this show!

"Oh Bryce, fuck me," I heard in a faint whisper.

"Umm, wow. Ok, that's weird," I thought (hopefully not out loud). I knew she would not want me to overhear such an embarrassing moment, so I pretended to snore very loudly, hoping to remind her I was still there.

Still, she continued, increasing her pace, and her left hand had now moved its attention to her right tight, grabbing it hard, this time digging her fingernails into it. She breathed through clenched teeth and was now rubbing her clit with even more force, using her entire hand flat against her pubic bone. Her head thrust back and her chest and tits lunged into the air. Monica held this arched position for several seconds, then threw herself back down onto the bed, never releasing her right hand from its assigned mission. She threw her left hand onto the bed and grabbed the sheet in her fist.

This was getting pretty embarrassing for her, I thought, so I finally said in a soft voice, "Monica?"

She continued, obviously ignoring me. Like most married men, I don't like to be ignored, but this spectacular sight might be the only exception.

"Monica," I said a little more loudly. Then in almost a shout, "Monica!"

Her eyes opened and she released her grasp on the sheet. Her right hand came up instinctively to pull her hair back from her face. As she touched the side of her face, she looked slightly confused and looked at her glistening hand. She then raised her hand and looked down, gradually figuring out what was going on. In a matter of seconds, she pulled the covers back, hiding herself from view and began looking around. She reached up behind the head of the bed and pulled her pillow back up, restoring it to its rightful place behind her lovely head of hair. Only then did she realize I was staring at her.

"What?" she asked with an air of panic she was trying to conceal.

"Sorry, I think you were having some kind of nightmare," I lied.

She looked relieved, then her expressions went from surprised to a blank stare to a slight smile, then a wicked grin. She took a deep, barely audible breath between the tiny gap in her wonderful red lips and said, "That wasn't a nightmare. I was having a naughty dream about you." Her volume lowered almost to a whisper, "You wanna fuck?"

Morning Delight

My eyebrows raised, and at this point several things were going through my head. First of all, I was pretty sure I heard her yell out Bryce's name. Hard to confuse that for "Lee." And she just lied to me about that, attempting to convince me it was her dear husband in her dream, but I figured I'd keep that to myself for now. I was feeling a little jealous, but it was a dream after all. Now keep in mind that Monica is somewhat self-conscious and rarely had sex in the morning. She always likes to shower first, so this was completely out-of-character for her. And finally, was my own wife going to be thinking about another man while we made love?

She squinted her eyes at me, apparently alarmed that I had to think about it first. "Did you hear me? Do you wanna fuck or not," she said with noticeable agitation in her voice.

"Yes, of course!" I blurted out. Never had I turned down copulation with this woman, and after the show I just witnessed and as horny as she obviously was, I wasn't going to start this morning!

She threw the covers away from her entire body in one swipe, then reached under the covers on my side, straight for my engorged member. Grabbing its girth across the front of my boxers, she said in a somewhat surprised tone, "Wow, you're already hard. Damn."

I just smiled back at her, not sure how to respond, definitely not wanting to reveal that I'd become excited while watching her dream-fuck another man for the past few minutes. I kicked the remaining covers completely off the foot of the bed and raised my knees up to strip off my only remaining garment.

Monica slid off what now barely resembled panties and was about to throw them on the floor when I grabbed her arm, forcing her hand and the panties it was clutching up to my face. I directed the soaking crotch to my mouth, then rubbed her sweet pussy juice from my lips up to my nose. I inhaled her essence in one long breath before taking her underwear from her hand. She stretched her left leg across my stomach and straddled me while pulling her t-shirt completely off and throwing it back over her head. Without hesitation she leaned forward, raised her ass a little, and began rubbing the pre-cum-soaked head of my throbbing dick down the narrow channel of her drenched labia.

The next thing I knew a giant breast was being shoved in my mouth and I dutifully began sucking hard on an erect nipple. My head was forced so hard back onto my pillow, I couldn't really see what was going on. Monica wasted no more time and in one motion lowered herself all the way onto me as the wettest, tightest cunt I'd ever felt swallowed all 8 inches of my manhood at once.

The suffocating tit finally released me from its pinning grip, but all I could get out was "Holy....oh my God...oh fuck," as she raised up almost all the way off of me and slammed back down with intensity I'd never seen from her before. Her eyes were closed and squinted and her face wrinkled in deep concentration as she screamed out, "Yes!"

"Holy shit you're so fucking wet. I want to taste you," I blurted out.

She never opened her eyes or changed her expression while whispering, "Shut up." Monica flung herself up and down my shaft several more times, her huge breasts swaying menacingly over my face. I raised my head in a meager attempt to catch one but only managed to suck one nipple into my mouth for a few seconds.

"Oh fuck!" I repeated as she continued this abuse of my organ.

"Oh God I'm gonna cum!" she said out loud as her pace quickened and her thrusts shortened. "Fuck! Shit! Fuck!"

She came hard. Very hard. I could feel her juices flowing down my cock, right onto my sack, then down the crack of my ass.

She continued in very long, slow thrusts a few more times, then sat upright, still with my cock in her snatch and began rubbing her clit. Just a few circles around her love button with her fingers before commanding me again, "Get behind me."

She rolled off of me and got up on her knees, facing away. I turned over, raised up, and prepared to penetrate her from behind. I grabbed my still-hard cock and was astonished at how lubricated she had left it. A fleeting thought passed through me of how easy it would be to slide my slippery penis all the way into her beautiful asshole, which was now pointed directly toward my face, open wide, as if begging me to explore her tightest of orifices. Remembering that we hadn't done anal in more than a decade, I continued on the approved plan. Using my left hand on the top of her ass to steady her, my right handed guided my willing prick between her glistening pubic hairs toward her fire-red pussy. I paused for a moment to stick one finger just an inch or two deep and then to admire one of my favorite sights of my life: Monica's absolutely gorgeous love nest expanded wide after a good fuck and dripping with her own juices. "Please let me taste you, sweetheart," I begged. "I want to lick your juices out of our cunt. Please let me! You know how much I like that."

"No. Tonight," she said. "Just fuck me now!"

I let out a quiet sigh and felt fortunate that she probably didn't see or hear it, facing the other way. I sucked the few juices off of my finger that I managed to extract from her, then quickly grabbed my cock again and rested the head at the opening of her pulsating twat. I was about to ease it into her, but her patience had apparently run out and she pushed back against me. Like before, the entire 8 inches went in very smoothly. I grabbed her hips with both hands and pushed her off, pulling nearly completely out of her. I gently thrust back into her, this time pulling her ass into my stomach as hard as I could.

"Oh yes, like that!"

Monica never talked much during sex before, so this was a brand new experience for me. And I freakin' loved it! It felt like the best fucking we'd ever had, and I didn't want it to end.