Irene's Blossoming

5.

"Nothing wrong will happen," I assured her on the morning of her decision. "It will be only two acquaintances working out side by side, along with a bunch of other people."

Irene only agreed to be closer to Dwayne after some persistent convincing from my part but, beneath her reluctance, I sensed the wish to be persuaded, so I provided the excuse my wife's conscience needed: she would be only doing it for me, to please me and to enhance our intimate moments.

Irene was supposed to 'accidentally' meet Dwayne in the gym. She wanted me to be present too, but that didn't make any sense. I was already thinking far ahead. In order for Dwayne to feel free to make any move towards my wife, he should think that the coast was clear. So, when the day came, I created a last minute excuse not to be present. Irene wasn't happy.

"I don't want to be alone with him," she said to me over the phone.

"You won't be. There will be other people around you," I reminded her.

In the end, my wife didn't back out.

I wish I could be a little fly on the wall, so that I could freely watch them together but all I could do was to go home and fantasize about what could happen. I imagined Allen teaching Irene how to correctly use the training equipment: his eyes admiring her figure and taking her clothes off, one piece at a time; his hands boldly roaming along her body, correcting her posture and feeling her feminine curves. How would Irene feel? Would she feel uncomfortable and disrespected or excited and drawn to him?

When my wife finally got home, I was anxious to know what had happened.

"Nothing happened," Irene said. "He politely came to me. We chatted for about five minutes and then we both went our separate way. What were you expecting?"

In the next few weeks, my wife maintained her new workout schedule but I saw no changes in her. My fantasy had been anticipating unrealistic scenarios that reality couldn't match. Irene's question was pertinent: what could I possibly expect from it?

Then one day, an ordinary weekday like many others, I was sitting on the couch, watching the TV news when Irene came from the kitchen and stood in front of me blocking my view. She seemed to want something from me. Unexpectedly, she knelt in front of me, between my legs, lowered my pants and underwear and put my cock in her mouth. I was in shock... Irene wasn't a fan of oral sex. She had done it to me in the past but always to indulge my requests and never out of her own initiative. This time, I didn't even have to mention it; she was willingly massaging my cock to full erection with her lips and tongue. I just sat there, speechless, enjoying that unique moment as if it were the first time I was experiencing a blowjob. In a way, it really felt like a first time, because Irene was licking and feeling my cock in her mouth with unseen passion. I was in heaven. Part of me wanted that moment to last forever, but I had to take advantage of her sudden enthusiasm and go a little further.

I stopped her and invited her to climb onto the couch. Irene thought I was preparing myself to penetrate her, but I had another idea in mind: I wanted to eat her pussy.

When my wife realized my intentions, she locked her legs and said, "No... I don't want that... I want you inside of me..."

Irene wasn't a fan of any kind of oral sex. Still, when we were younger, before our marriage, I had convinced her to let me lick her pussy a couple of times and I remember her enjoying it. Meanwhile, I don't know why, she became more resistant to the idea. Irene claimed that she preferred for me to penetrate her and that she had no need for anything else.

However, this time, I wasn't willing to give in to her objections. I gently forced her legs open and plunged my face into her wet pussy. My wife's stubborn resistance ended the moment my mouth touched her. My lips probed inside her labia and I found the abundant presence of her arousing fluids. Only then I realized how much I had been missing that flavor.

Irene came a few minutes later. Her arms were hugging her body tightly as if she were protecting herself from being violated but her mouth was open wide as if a silent scream was being released.

When her body relaxed, I sat by her side and waited a couple of minutes before asking, "What was that?"

"What?" she replied in bad mood, as if she were being disturbed.

"Why did you attack me like that?"

"I don't know..."

"Were you horny?"

"Yes..." my wife confessed with a more calm tone of voice. "I don't know why... but I felt this strong desire to do it..."

I didn't know if she was already regretting her decision but, from my part, there were no complaints. My cock was still hard, begging for attention. I held it and slowly stroke it while we were talking.

"Did something happen today in the gym?"

I had the feeling that Dwayne might have something to do with my wife's unexpected impulse.

"No..." Irene awkwardly replied. "What could have happened?"

"Did Dwayne try something? Did he touch you?"

"Of course not!" she protested.

"Then how did he turn you on?"

A moment of silence followed my question and I realized that, this time, I was asking the right question.

"Lately we have been closer. He has been helping me using the training equipment. Looks like that I've been doing it all wrong."

I nodded to my wife for her to proceed. This is what I had been expecting to hear right from the beginning. Slowly, as if she were trying to feel her ground, Irene continued, "He has been a gentleman... The problem is in me. I can't stop thinking about sex and your stupid fantasy when I'm near him."

"Keep going..." I encouraged her.

"I can't stop looking at him... at his body. And, when I sense him staring at me, I feel like a silly teenager. Even the smell of his sweat turns me on."

Irene was finishing these words when she realized that I had been touching myself while she was talking. This enraged her and she violently said, "This is your entire fault!"

Yes, the fault was mine. Thanks to me, the minor and temporary infatuation she had experienced in the beginning had evolved into a strong sexual attraction. That had been my plan all along. My wife's sudden sexual explosion was the result of the growing sexual tension between her and Dwayne in the last few weeks.

"And today he asked me if I would join him for a cup of coffee after our workout," Irene continued. There was a long moment of silence. My wife seemed to be expecting some sort of reaction from my part, but I quietly waited for the continuation of her account. "When I refused, he asked me if I wanted to go out with him one of these days."

Gentleman or not, Dwayne knew how to make his move.

This time, I couldn't contain myself, "What did you answer?"

"What did I answer?!" Irene repeated in disbelief. My wife seemed to be on the verge of a meltdown. "I'm a married woman. This can't be happening... He probably noticed my silly behavior. He thinks that I'm after him."

"Are you?" I provoked.

For a moment I thought that she was going to throw the nearest object at my head. But then Irene quieted herself, a false calm; she covered her nakedness and left the room in silence. We didn't speak to each other for the rest of the day.

6.

Next morning, Irene behaved as if nothing had happened. I tried to talk with her but she didn't want to partake in any more conversations about Dwayne. I respected her decision and decided to give her a break. One moment I had a conservative wife not willing to do any sexual experimentation with me, the next moment, she was willingly spending time with a man to whom she felt attracted. Everything was happening fast, so a small break was, probably, not a bad idea. Nevertheless, as the days went by, Irene kept meeting Allen in the gym...

We didn't talk about Dwayne for exactly one week. That day, when I opened the door of our apartment, I found my wife nervously expecting me inside. The door wasn't closed yet and Irene was already all over me. Less than a minute later and we were having wild, enthusiastic sex in our bed.

After we were both satiated, Irene decided to speak about our recent transgressions once again, "This can't go on. I never wanted any of this."

"The sex?"

"No! Dwayne and I... I can't keep feeding this attraction."

"What were you expecting to happen when I asked you to workout with him?" I confronted her.

"I don't know..." Irene answered in dismay.

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to. But I like it as it is."

Irene shook her head as if I was missing the point.

"Don't you get it? I... really... want... him!" my wife stressed with all her will. "That's why I can keep seeing him."

The bluntness of her confession stunned me. For the first time, my wife was expressing in words how much she desired Dwayne. One push on my part and Irene would succumb to my wishes, whatever they would be. I had to make up my mind. Did I really want my wife to fuck Dwayne?

After our conversation, it was decided that Irene would keep her meetings with Dwayne. Her earlier moment of frailty was put aside and she showed me a renewed determination to resist Dwayne's advances. This was as far as she was willing to go. I accepted her decision but, deep inside, I was beginning to doubt the strength of her resolution.

In the next few weeks, I slowly watched my wife change. She learned how to handle the sexual tension and accept the lust inside of her. We kept using Dwayne to spice our intimate moments but her sexual outbursts disappeared.

One day, she told me, "Today, we had a cup of coffee together in the gym's snack bar." Irene's tone was casual, but I noticed a hint of caution, as if she was apprehensive with my reaction. Then she added, "There is nothing wrong with a cup of coffee with a friend, right?"

Who was she trying to reassure: herself or me? I couldn't help myself from feeling surprised, but I did my best to not to show it.

"Of course there isn't," I reassured her.

Soon, their coffee meetings after exercise became regular and began occurring also outside the gym. Slowly, Irene was taking her relationship with Dwayne a little further and letting me know of it. Every gym day, I would arrive home hoping to hear a new detail: their first lunch break together; her first ride home with Dwayne; how they exchanged phone numbers...

No matter how much enjoyment I was getting from our little game, I needed more. I needed to see them with my own eyes. So, one day, I decided to spy on my wife with her black friend without their knowledge...

7.

I strategically parked my car so that I could perfectly see the gym's entrance without being spotted. Then I waited. Fifteen minutes later, I spotted my wife and Dwayne leaving the premises side by side. Fortunately, they weren't heading for their cars. Instead, they walked to the nearest coffee shop and I followed them at a safe distance. Not far, across the road, there was also a pastry shop. So, I walked in there, quickly ordered something, took a table inside and waited, while they were still inside. A few seconds later, they left their shop carrying a tray and occupied a table outside.

I couldn't hear them nor see their facial expressions in detail, but from where I was standing I could observe them in safety. Somehow, I was expecting to see in Irene the silly teenager she had mentioned in the past, cornered by Dwayne's presence. Instead, I saw a confident woman talking with a peer. There was an evident proximity between them, one we usually only have with close friends or relatives. As it had happened before, I felt jealousy growing inside me and, with it, also a profound excitement. I wished it was dark already. I wished there was a dim alley nearby where Dwayne could take my wife afterwards and fuck her hard against a building wall, while I observed everything from afar. Then I imagined Irene confessing to me how she had succumbed to his charms. My imagination was out of the rails: jealousy was the most powerful aphrodisiac.

Ten minutes later, Dwayne escorted my wife to her car. During their meeting, I didn't notice any physical contact between the two, but that was about to change...

On the moment of parting, instead of a simple goodbye or a handshake, Dwayne leaned to Irene and kissed her on the cheek. The action seemed to be happening in slow motion. In fact, it was more than a feeling. The entire gesture developed in a purposely slow fashion, as if both of them pretended to delay the moment as long as they could. Irene accepted his kiss and she smiled when their stares met once again. At that moment, jealousy peaked in me... They were silently flirting with each other. At the least, Irene was flirting.

I intended to leave before Irene, so that I could arrive home first, but that moment paralyzed me. For a couple of minutes I kept quiet, inside my car, reliving the moment over and over again. Only then I left.

I desperately desired to arrive home so that I could fuck my wife fast and hard. And that's what happened. Irene welcomed my unexpected enthusiasm as I had welcomed hers in the past. Only when I was too worn-out to continue, we shared words.

"Is everything alright?" Irene asked.

"Yes," I replied. "Is everything alright with you too?"

"Yes," she naturally said.

"Did anything happen today?"

"No," Irene answered. But then she realized what I meant and adjusted her response, "Today, I had coffee with Dwayne... as we occasionally do."

There was no reference to the kiss. Maybe I was giving too much importance to that kiss, but that was exactly the kind of details I wished from her.

"Today, I also have something to tell," I mysteriously said.

"What?" Irene replied with apprehension.

"I saw you with Dwayne."

"Where?" she nervously asked.

"From the time you left the gym until the moment you went separate ways."

"Were you spying on us?"

"Yes," I admitted.

Irene quickly got up as if she didn't want to share a bed with me for the rest of the conversation. Her face was a mirror of all kinds of inner emotions.

"Why did you do that?"

"I had to see you. I couldn't resist."

"I'm not comfortable with that. You should have told me," Irene accused.

Yes, I should have told her. But I wished to see her in her usual environment. If she knew I was there, everything would be different. I explained this to her and her anger lessened, but shame and fear remained.

Irene told me that she felt like a different woman when she was with Dwayne, maybe a necessary rationalization on her part to help her deal with the situation. But what surprised me the most was the implied fear in her words and reaction. No matter how many times I had told it to her before, she still didn't understand how my fantasy worked in my mind.

"Are you angry with me?" she asked, at one point.

How could my wife ask me that?

"No! I..." I replied. I wanted to tell her how much I had enjoyed seeing her, but no words could describe it.

"Weren't you jealous?" Irene asked incredulous.

"Oh, yes... I was jealous... You can't imagine how much..." I honestly said. "It was amazing."

My wife looked at me as if I wasn't making sense. I guess someone would have to feel what I felt to understand it.

"Did you like it?" she tried.

"Oh yes... You were gorgeous... fantastic..."

"You're crazy," Irene said as she smiled; a confused but honest smile. Despite some signs of reluctance, my enthusiasm was infecting her.

"Does he still keep inviting you to go out with him?" I asked, dramatically changing the direction of the conversation. In the heat of the moment, I was about to take our game even further without thinking about the consequences.

"Yes..."

"Have dinner with him."

Irene looked at me in awe.

"I can't... He will get the wrong idea..."

"Let him get the wrong idea," I promptly replied. I was expecting some reluctance from her part, but no words were coming from her open mouth. "Will you do it?"

After a long moment of silence, Irene finally answered, "Okay... Just dinner and nothing more."

I never thought my wife would agree so easily.

"Just dinner... nothing more," I agreed.

A week later, Irene had progresses to declare: their date had been scheduled for the following Saturday evening.

8.

I guess part of me was in denial those days before Saturday. Somehow, I was expecting Irene to back out in the last moment or to confess that there wasn't any date at all. This feeling was also justified by Irene's behavior: I couldn't see any unrest or excitement, reluctance or enthusiasm in her. She was behaving as if nothing special was about to happen.

Only when I saw my wife all dressed up and ready to leave, I was sure of what was about to happen. Part of me wanted to ask her to stay and cancel her meeting with Dwayne; but most of all I felt aroused by the moment. Irene wasn't wearing any special clothes, make-up or perfume, only one of her usual evening dresses. However, in my mind, she seemed hotter than ever.

"Do I look good?" Irene asked. Her question was plain and simple, but also seemed to imply much more. I felt as if she was asking me if I was sure about all that.

"Yes," I replied trying to sound resolute.

Irene didn't say anything else; we kissed and she left.

From inside our apartment, I watched her enter the taxi that would take her to the restaurant. Only then, the numbness that had surrounded me in the previous days left me for good. I realized that I didn't have a reason for allowing my wife to go to that dinner. What did I mean to accomplish with this new step? Her recent intimacy with Dwayne, as it was, was enough to ignite our imagination and passion. Irene was already more open to experimentation in our sexual interactions than ever before in our marital relationship. What else could I want? Unless... The key question was still to be answered: do I really want my wife to have sex with Dwayne?

I wanted to ask about what Irene was feeling and what her plans were, but I didn't. I didn't want to pressure her. Somehow, not knowing beforehand seemed like a good idea. I was in her hands and it felt tremendously exciting. I was sure of one thing though: no matter what would happen that night, I wanted it to be Irene's decision. However, I couldn't stay home, waiting; I had to see them with my own eyes. So I grabbed my car keys and left to again spy on my wife.

Fortunately, I knew where the restaurant was. Irene had told me the address herself, just in case, although I didn't know what 'just in case' was supposed to mean. It was located conveniently out of town, so that no known eyes could catch them together. Also, after my stunt a few days earlier, I was expecting her to plainly ask me if I intended to spy upon her once more. Her silence about this matter felt like an encouragement for me to follow her... or maybe this was the way I had to justify my behavior.

When I got to the restaurant, I immediately realized that there was no way for me to observe them from the outside and entering the premises was out of the question. I had no plan, no idea of what to look for or expect, so I was left with no choice but to wait outside, hidden in my car.

I parked my vehicle on the far side of the parking lot, where it was darker and away from the other cars. From there, I had a good view of both the parking lot and the restaurant door, without being too exposed. Then I waited and it felt like an eternity.

As expected in a place like that, there were always people coming and going. Other cars occupied some of the empty parking spaces close to mine, concealing me even more, but there was no sight of Irene. Without anything else to occupy it, my mind began producing reasons for worrying. What if they weren't there? What if that was the wrong restaurant or they had changed their minds and left to somewhere else before my arrival? Worse than being caught spying them was the possibility of being there for nothing so, I began considering my options. One of them was getting inside the premises: maybe by disguising myself or maybe by trying to enter through the service door in the back... Fortunately, much to my relief and before I did something stupid, Irene appeared at the door. They were leaving.