Oscar and Irene Pt. 04

I heard a knock on the door, and instinctively turned to answer it, before realizing that it was Matt's door that had been tapped on. A look of horror appeared on Irene's face, as she realized that her boss was going to answer it. She put one hand on the bed, as if she was intending to get up from her kneeling position, but Matt faced her and issued another authoritative command.

"Stay!" he told my wife.

To my surprise, Irene remained on her knees, giving her boss a quick nod of assent, to let him know of her continued obedience. Matt disappeared from the screen of my iPad, although I still had the audio component, and heard voices soon after he opened the door.

"Come in," he said pleasantly, "I will be right back."

"I will wait right here, sir," the mystery caller responded, before I realized that it was probably room service.

I am assuming that the room service guy could see my wife kneeling by the bed in her lingerie. It was a fairly small hotel room, and the entry door was open as he waited for Matt to return. Irene dropped her head in shame, the humiliation of her decision to unconditionally obey her boss, finally catching up with her. She kept her head hung low the entire time that Matt exchanged pleasantries with the room service guy. I heard the door close seconds later, and Matt came back into view on my screen.

"Matt," Irene whispered softly, "that was unnecessarily humiliating."

Watching my wife finally give her boss some pushback, made me proud of her, but he quickly extinguished it.

"This was important," he said, waving a packaged condom in front of her face.

I was shocked, initially, that he had asked room service to bring him a condom. However, adjoining room aside, which I now realized was intended for use by a couple with a newborn, this was a very nice hotel, and Matt's request was quite tame compared to some of the demands placed upon the concierge service.

"I hope the intrusion didn't diminish your desire in any way," Matt said, as he knelt in front of her.

"No, Matt," she said softly, her lust evident in her shaky voice. "It just caught me off guard, that's all."

Once Matt was kneeling in front of my wife, he tossed the packaged condom over her shoulder, and it landed on the bed. Then, in an act designed to regain control of Irene, he extended one hand between her legs, and tenderly brushed his middle finger across her clitoris.

She slumped forward immediately, emitting a load moan of pleasure, and they engaged in another open-mouthed kiss, Irene's humiliation seemingly having been forgotten. Matt was apparently ready for the main course, because he stood up in front of my wife, extended one hand out to her, and helped her to her feet.

They kissed once more before he motioned to the bed, and Irene climbed onto the top of it, and laid down on her back. In the seventeen years that my wife and I have been in a relationship, we have only ever made love in the missionary position. So, because it is all she has ever known, it was no surprise to me that Irene adopted that familiar stance.

Once she was laying on her back, her shyness surfaced, and reverting back to her days of being a virgin, she crossed her legs, in an attempt to preserve her modesty. Matt, on the other hand, was a very experienced lover having had multiple partners prior to marrying his wife. Even though it had been seven years since he last made love, he was not a shy individual, and began to undress in front of Irene.

After he had unfastened his shirt buttons, and removed his crisp white shirt, my wife started to relax a little, uncrossing her legs to reveal her neatly trimmed bush. I noticed that she had paid additional attention to her grooming, and wondered if that was in anticipation of having sex with her boss. Matt stripped down to his underwear, a pair of very flattering, white Hugo Boss briefs, and briefly faced the hidden camera. Again, if I didn't know better, it seemed like he was putting on a show, and after giving me ample opportunity to observe, and envy, his considerable package, he turned his back on my iPhone, and climbed on top of my wife.

Any expectations I had of my wife responding demurely, as she had on our first several dozen encounters in which I remained in my underwear, were quickly shattered as she opened her legs wide, and wrapped them around Matt's muscular lower back. I swallowed hard as I watched them kiss and dry-hump, although in my wife's elevated state of arousal, there probably wasn't much dryness involved.

They simulated sex for several moments, as they kissed and got to experience each other for the first time. I was cognizant of the fact that my wife had no underwear on, and there was only the thin material of her boss' briefs preventing him from getting balls-deep inside my wife of fifteen years.

I had mentally prepared myself for the prospect of them having sex, ever since I first found out about their late night intimacy at the office. It wasn't ideal that I was going to have to witness it, but at least I could bust in there at any time, if Matt overstepped the boundaries, and disrespected my lovely bride in any way. I could handle a brief missionary position encounter, particularly as Matt had been respectful enough to secure a condom.

I would draw the line if he tried to make her suck his cock, I told myself. In truth, the time and impetus for my intervention had come and gone, and I felt relieved that I didn't have to face Matt in a potentially physical confrontation, that I would surely lose. I shuddered as I considered how horribly wrong that could go, given the fact that he was far bigger and stronger than I was. Imagine the indignity of getting your ass kicked by your wife's lover, as she watched.

Maybe after he had rendered me incapable of further resistance, he would fuck Irene in front of me, just to rub my nose in it. No, I reasoned, I was far better off allowing things to unfurl naturally, particularly as it appeared to be very vanilla sex that was on the cards today.

"Please Matt," my wife finally implored him, "I want you inside me."

As disturbing as it was to watch my wife of fifteen years make out with her boss, it paled next to the kick in the nuts that the audio component added. Hearing my wife practically beg another man to fuck her was beyond painful, it was absolutely emasculating. Irene moved one hand down to Matt's stomach, grabbed the waistband of his briefs, and tried to help him remove them.

Matt, however, had other ideas. Realizing he had ignited a fire in Irene, he sought to tease her a little more, in the hope that her desire would eventually overwhelm her virtue, and possibly encourage her to expand her horizons. For this reason, instead of releasing his cock from the confines of his briefs, slipping on a condom, and entering her very available pussy, he slid down her body until his lips were on her stomach.

Matt began to lick and nibble Irene's pelvic region, and as her breathing quickened and her moans got louder, she ran her fingers through his thick, dark, head of hair, and began her journey towards her first orgasm.

I wasn't able to bring Irene to climax every single time that we made love, but I had seen her come enough to recognize the tell-tale signs. As Matt teased her mercilessly, I realized that he knew what he was doing in bed. He was unhurried in his actions, despite repeated efforts on my wife's part to position his tongue between her legs. Finally, as her breathing became heavy and ragged, he lowered his chin slightly, and brushed his tongue across the inner lips of her labia.

"Right there, Matt," my wife instructed him. "Please, right there."

I don't know what tricks he employed to get my wife to experience such a stupendous first orgasm, and I was not inclined to ask him, but she let out a cry of pure ecstasy as she came on his face. She wrapped her legs around his broad shoulders, put both hands in his hair, and shuddered as he took her over the edge. In addition to being a very vocal orgasm, it was also quite protracted, her moans of appreciation audible for at least fifteen seconds after she first cried out.

"Oh my god," she uttered, as soon as she caught her breath, "I never knew."

Irene's choice of words cut me to the core. After I heard her utter the words "I never knew," I realized that she couldn't have chosen a more hurtful expression to highlight the sheer physical euphoria, that her boss had provided her. In one brief act of oral sex, Matt had eclipsed the entire sexual pleasure of our seventeen year relationship.

My reflexive response was "ouch," however, I never had time to wallow in her words, because Mr. Turbo Tongue was at it again. Her second orgasm arrived much more quickly, a brief crescendo of sound culminating in a loud exclamation of joy as she peaked and went over the edge. I am not sure exactly what Irene cried out, at the moment of release, and even after playing it over several times, I couldn't make out if she had said "I love you, Matt," or something similar.

What was never in doubt was my wife's response to his touch. He was evoking a response from her, the likes of which I had never seen before, and each orgasm was progressively stronger than the last. At some point, I muted the volume on my iPad in disgust, but inexplicably the sounds still emanated from it. Even after I turned it off completely, Irene's cries of passion still reverberated in my ears, before I realized that the noise was coming from behind the flimsy door between our adjoining rooms, which was designed to facilitate hearing, not inhibit it.

Irene screamed Matt's name several times, and feeling that I was missing out, I turned my iPad back on. He was still lying between her legs, with his tongue stimulating her clitoris, but he had rotated his body so that he was lying across her stomach from the side. I knew what that sly bastard was up to, having employed a similar strategy in my single days. He was trying to slowly maneuver himself into the sixty-nine position, his interest in sliding his cock between my wife's glossed lips, suddenly renewed.

I wanted to warn my wife of his objective, but as I watched on intently, I was powerless to stop him. As he continued his expert attention on my wife's sexual organs, and she enjoyed two more stupendous orgasms, he finally rotated himself sufficiently so that his hip was laying on her shoulder, and his cock was just three or fours inches from her lips.

As was to be expected, having been the the recipient of several earth-shattering orgasms, my wife was feeling a mixture of indebtedness and benevolence towards her boss, and when she was faced with his erection mere inches from her mouth, she did the decent thing.

I use the phrase "the decent thing" in place of its equivalent, "the honorable thing," which is in the sense of payment in kind for services rendered. Matt had taken my wife to new highs sexually, inducing her to orgasm a multitude of times, without any hint of reciprocation. Now that she was completely and utterly satisfied, it seemed that the decent thing would be to repay the favor, and orally satisfy her boss. However, the prospect of my wife sucking her boss' cock, was far from doing "the decent thing" in the more literal sense.

First of all, she was a married woman, who had never extended this sexual courtesy to her husband, despite fifteen years of marital bliss. Secondly, oral sex, particularly to a relative stranger was a filthy act, and beneath a happily married woman.

Torn between a desire to remain virtuous, and a strong feeling of guilt that was compelling her to reciprocate, and take care of this man, Irene met him half-way. Without committing to a fully fledged blowjob, and all of the humiliation that this act would entail, she extended her tongue and began to lick his inner thighs. Matt took this as a green-light to the possibility of oral copulation, and lowered his tongue back to her clitoris.

I saw Irene involuntarily stiffen, such was her delight at the resumption of his stimulation. This also lowered her resistance to the idea of blowjobs, and she began to softly nibble Matt's nuts through his briefs. Up until now, I had staunchly resisted jerking off to the visual of my wife and her boss getting it on, but this was the point at which my resistance to jerking off was overcome by my desire to enjoy an orgasm of my own.

I went into my bathroom, carrying my iPad so as not to miss any of the action, and retrieved my bottle of lubricant. I positioned my screen so that I could watch my wife and her boss in their quasi sixty-nine position, and flipped open the top of my KY lube. My wife was relaxing now, seemingly having repressed her revulsion of oral sex, to do "the decent thing" and take care of Matt.

As she tenderly and lovingly nibbled his swollen nuts, her lipgloss, chosen because it matched the shade of her garter-belt almost exactly, slowly transferred to his white briefs, creating an indelible piece of evidence as to what occurred in that hotel room, lest my wife attempt to deny it.

After they had concluded their sordid sexual encounter, in whatever perverse form it evolved, I was going to retrieve her boss' briefs, and rub my wife's nose in her infidelity.

As I started to masturbate, Irene moved her lips slightly, and began to lick and nibble his shaft through his briefs, transferring more of the light peach lipgloss to his genital area, in the process.

Matt ate my wife to three more orgasms during which she coated his cock and balls with a generous application of her lipgloss, at least through his underwear. After her last orgasm, she asked him to make love to her again, though in more desperate terms.

"Matt, please," she begged, "Fuck me now, I want you so badly."

He raised his head from between her legs, and they made eye-contact. He made no attempt to change his position, so that they could make love, so Irene, fearing that he wanted her to continue her ministrations to his cock and balls, instead of having sex, sweetened the pot.

"Please, Matt," she repeated, "make love to me first, and then I promise I will suck you off."

This got him moving. He rose slowly from their quasi sixty-nine position, with a smug look on his face. For some inexplicable reason, he faced the camera as if he knew where it was positioned. As he posed briefly with a huge smile on his face, I was transfixed by his erection, making a concerted effort to bust out of his briefs, which themselves were covered in my wife's lipgloss.

"Just to clarify," he said slowly, looking directly at the camera. "You will suck me off, Irene?"

I was close to orgasm as I witnessed this exchange between my wife and her boss, and as I continued to jerk myself off, I realized that my innocent wife didn't know the difference between sucking someone's cock, and sucking someone off. This was a fairly important distinction, as the latter would involve the transfer of seminal fluids from Matt to Irene, and I felt she needed to know this, before she committed.

It was too late, for both of us. Irene, desperate to get Matt's cock inside her, sat upright on the bed, and looking directly into his eye, her conviction captured perfectly by the camera, repeated his assertion.

"I will suck you off, Matt, l promise," she said, right as I blew my load all over the bathroom mirror, my iPad becoming collateral damage in the process.