Taking the Wife Out

"Hey, Gordo, I need you to do me a favor," Alexi whispered in my ear. She was hanging on my arm, looking brilliant in a teal-green gown. I was wearing the same tux as every other man there. We were at yet another party in DC, at a hotel not far from my apartment. I had forgotten what it was about - all I knew at that point was that some publisher or another was putting it on.

"That depends on what it is."

"Great. I knew I could count on you. See that distinguished gray-headed gent over there?"

"Y-es." I looked in the direction she indicated, and saw him chatting with a gorgeous, tan, blonde in a bright blue dress that barely restrained two magnificent breasts. He was steering her toward the bar with a caressing hand on her bare shoulder, and smiled in our direction. Alexi's direction, to be precise.

"Carlton James. I've been trying to get him to talk to me for weeks now about a publishing contract. I can't get past his secretary."

"Sorry, I don't know him. Why don't you just go up and talk to him? He's obviously noticed you."

"Well, it may take more than just a little talk."

"So, what do you want me to do?" I groaned. Alex has involved me in a bit of raw work from time to time, but she doesn't normally go after married men.

"I'm sure I don't care what you do, as long as you keep her from interrupting us. I've heard she's kind of the jealous type."

"How am I going to do that?"

"You'll figure it out. Wish me luck." She kissed me on the cheek and floated off in a green satin haze.

"Hey, Gordon! Isn't the band great!" a tall guy said, jolting me out of whatever little world watching Alexi walk away sometimes takes me to. I had noticed him before; he was the only man here not wearing a tux, opting instead for the "tweedy professor" look.

"Sure." They were indeed a good band; they wouldn't be playing at a Marriott in DC if they weren't. But I needed to be looking for a wife. I chatted with my new-found academic friend, who knew of me from my Loyola days, and was now looking for tips on publishing. I was scanning the room while he talked, and noticed the blonde, now holding two drinks and looking around. I excused myself and walked over, coming up alongside her. "Hi. Two fisted drinker, eh?"

She seemed to be estimating the range to throw at least one of them in my face, but then she smiled at me in an icy sort of way. "One of them is for my husband. Maybe you've seen him? Carlton James? Tall grey guy, twice my age?"

"Sorry, no idea where he is." Which was true by now; I had lost sight of them almost immediately.

"No great loss. Well, have a drink," she said, handing me a martini. Not my first choice, but one does what one must. I thanked her and started sipping.

"Whose party is this, anyway? I'm here on my friend's invite, and I didn't really pay attention to the details."

"I can tell," she smirked. "Ours, actually. Carlton is the president of James Publishing House. His grandfather started it. Would you like to go out on the balcony? I need a cigarette."

I said I'd be glad to, and we walked out through some french doors onto a balcony, past a security guard, into the early spring night. We could look out and see the capitol dome in the distance, and the Washington monument, blinking at us with red eyes.

"Sorry. My husband took off and I'm taking it out on you. I'm Charlene James. And you are?" She found a pack of cigarettes in a small clutch she was carrying.

"Gordon Wainwright. I've got a couple of books to my credit, but my friend Alexi is the big-time author you invited." She put the cigarette in her mouth and handed me a lighter. I didn't want to talk about Alex too much, especially if Charlene had reason to wonder who stole her husband later, but the fact was that there was no good reason they would have invited me.

"Pretty girl in the green dress?" she asked. Busted, in all likelihood. Jealous wives have a radar about these sorts of things, and she had probably noticed the two of us together anyway. "Light me?"

"Yep, that girl." I lit her cigarette and handed her back her lighter.

She noticed the bemused look on my face. "It's so much nicer when a man does it for you, don't you think?" she said, smiling up at me and blowing smoke just past my face. I was trying to keep my eyes up at her hairline, and not entirely succeeding, especially when she flexed her arms which were folded under her breasts. Her nipples were beginning to harden a bit in the cool air. We were both facing the rail, looking at each other.

I noticed that the balcony was empty except for the two of us. "I'm surprised there aren't others out here taking in the view."

"They can't get past the security guard. This is our own little spot for Carlton, me, and any special guests."

"Really?"

"Yeah, but everyone can see through the windows, so don't get any ideas," she laughed. "You can just barely see the White House from here."

"Where? I can't quite spot it."

"Get behind me and look where I'm pointing."

I got up behind her, the better to see the White House by following her pointing finger. I could smell the perfume in her hair, laced with Benson & Hedges. She backed up into me, and I could feel the silken shape of her hips and buttocks, and her muscular legs. Her mostly bare back nestled against my chest, which was unfortunately covered with a tux shirt and vest. "Oh sure, I can see it now," I lied. I put my arm around her front - my hand came to rest just below her sternum, and stroked the silken fabric.

"You're warm. Men always swelter in those tuxes," she said, and turned suddenly, leaving me holding a handful of first-class, all-natural breast in one hand and a martini in the other. "But your hand is a bit cold."

"I'm sorry," I said, and moved it away.

"It feels fantastic," she said, and pushed her breast back toward my hand. What the hell, I thought, and reached behind the fabric again. I pinched her nipple lightly, and she leaned back and moaned softly in my ear.

"It does feel fantastic," I said. She put her drink down on the railing and unzipped my fly. She was standing sideways to the railing with her back to the door, so she was blocking the show from other party goers. Perhaps. She reached into my briefs and caressed me, alternating between scratching lightly under my balls with her fingernails and rubbing the head of my penis. Then she encircled it with her hand and started jacking me off while she took a drag on her cigarette with her other hand. She kissed me briefly and blew smoke into my mouth.

"Second-hand smoke - said to be the most deadly kind," she laughed, and withdrew her hand, mercifully. I was going to come in my pants if she hadn't, yet I couldn't have backed away from her if my life depended on it. "Isn't the band great? Let's dance."

I said I'd like nothing better, and we straightened out our clothes. As we were walking back out, the security guard seemed to be smirking at me. The band was playing "Almost Like Being in Love," and I managed to remember enough of my ballroom dancing lessons to not embarrass myself. We danced a slow number, and she whispered those five magic words in my ear: "Let's get out of here."

"I have an apartment right around the corner."

"I can't be gone that long. I have a room on the 3rd floor."

We got in the elevator and she started kissing me passionately. I tried to return the favor, but I was worried that I was leading her straight back to her husband. And Alex. I couldn't insist on my apartment, however, or she might think I was some kind of dangerous weirdo - she was taking enough of a chance at her hotel, letting a complete stranger into her room. And I couldn't think of a good reason not to go there, short of just telling her I had changed my mind altogether. By then, I was experiencing the kind of blood loss to the brain that a man always suffers at a time like this, so I ended up going along with her and hoping for the best.

As we walked along the corridor on the 3rd floor, I could barely hear a muffled feminine laugh that I thought I recognized. "Listen, I think I should..." I began in a panic. All the blood was definitely back in my brain now. But was it too late? Charlene was already inserting the card in a door.

"What's wrong, baby?" she smiled back at me and motioned me into the hotel room. No one else was inside. She pulled me to her and we started kissing and taking off our clothes. "I can't be gone long. I hope you're ready."

"I'm more than ready. You almost made me come on the balcony."

"That would have been messy." She was down to a thong now, and my tux was lying in a heap on the floor. She was tanned all over; her breasts were just slightly lighter than the rest of her.

"You're beautiful," I said.

"Lie down on the bed," she commanded. She straddled me in a 69 position, and she began to suck me like a pro. I cupped her breasts, which were hanging down and brushing my thighs. She began to moan, and I felt the vibrations on the head of my cock. She still had her thong on, and I moved the string to one side so I could suck her clit. Then she began to squirm. "Oh, that's good," she moaned.

I could hear the same laughter I had heard earlier in the corridor. This time it sounded like it was coming from the wall, and getting louder. It turned into a pleasurable shriek. It was definitely Alex. It seemed to turn Charlene on even more when she heard it, and she stopped to pull her thong off. She got back into position, and this time I thrust my tongue into her slit as she bucked and moaned. I twisted hard on her nipples - she was sitting up on my face now, her hands on my legs, lost in her own pleasure.

Which was fine with me; I wanted to last a little longer. Just the sound of Alex shrieking and Charlene moaning, and the smell and taste of Charlene's sex, were almost enough to drive me over the edge. Charlene bucked on my mouth a few more times, hard, and got off of me. "Take me," she whispered into my ear. She was laying beside me; by now it was silent in the next room.

I stroked her breasts and belly, trying to calm down a bit, and trying to listen. She was impatient, or she noticed that I was paying more attention to the wall than her at the moment. She pulled me down to her; still I wanted to slow things down, control it. I started kissing her left nipple, sucking it and pulling on it with my lips until it rose to a point in my mouth while I rolled the other one in my fingertips. I ran my palms over her exquisite mounds, which were round, and full, and shapely even when she was lying down. She put her hand between her muscular, tanned legs and started rubbing her clit, a finger in her pussy. I reluctantly took my hand away from her breast (I was propped up on my other arm) and began to explore her thighs.

"Your cock. My pussy. Now, you bastard," she hissed in my ear, and rolled me onto my back. She straddled me and began rubbing her slick, wet cunt on my dick, slowly pushing it up and into her. It was tight. I've got an average sort of cock, but for a moment I wondered if it was going to fit. She clinched her pussy lips around the head of my penis, daring me to thrust harder to make it go in. Then I grabbed her bottom, and she put her hands on my shoulders. Her eyes opened wide as I forced my way in. I closed my eyes, but not in time to avoid seeing her breasts bouncing up and down, up and down - that pushed me over the edge. I thought I heard the door to the next room open and close as I sprayed come inside her. I opened my eyes. She was right behind me, and her face contorted as she shuddered and shrieked.

She laid down on top of me, and we cuddled for a moment. She looked down on me, smiling. She kissed me and said "Fantastic. Now go before my husband finds us."

I couldn't resist. "Sounds like the couple next door was having a good time too."

"Not as good as I had," she sighed. While I was dressing, she was still lying in bed, naked and fingering herself with one hand while she absently stroked her breast with the other. It was murder; she looked like she had a few more good tosses in her. But the invitation had expired, and I really didn't want to meet Carlton James right here, right now. I hoped to get a contract with him some day myself.

***

I stumbled into my apartment, dead on my feet. After I had left the room, I had remained at the party another thirty minutes - perhaps out of some misguided idea of not disappearing at the same time Charlene had. I saw Carlton James holding court at the other end of the room, but I never saw Alex again. After downing three drinks in that short period of time, I had decided to leave before I got too drunk to hail a cab.

Alex was curled up on my couch, asleep in her green dress. The childlike innocence of her pose was marred only by the light bite marks on her neck and breasts, which were exposed almost to the nipples. I took off my coat, tie, vest, suspenders and shirt and put them on the table. I picked up her stockinged feet enough to sit down, and began to rub them.

"Oh, that's lovely. I was on my feet a long time tonight. Until I wasn't," she giggled. She had downed a few herself, from the sound of her.

I pulled the stockings off her legs. "You smell like sex and a party," I murmured, sliding my hands down her freshly waxed legs and kissing her toes.

"Would you like sloppy seconds, or a bath first?" She was already hiking up her dress.

"No underwear?" I teased as I lowered my trousers. I kept my sweaty t-shirt on; my briefs were still around my right ankle. I climbed on her and tried to coax some of her dress off of her shoulders, enough to lick a nipple, at least.

"Sorry, the girls are done in for the night. Carlton is a bit of a biter," she giggled as I slid into her. "I started out wearing underwear, but he kept it. Asked for a souvenir. I'll have to look around and see if I left any here sometime. Hope you did the laundry. Oh, that's nice. Gentle, lover," she babbled on like this while I pumped in and out of her slowly.

"Did he wear you out down there, too?"

She ran her hands up under my shirt and rubbed my back while we fucked in this slow, lazy rhythm. "Not really. He wanted the back door, though."

"The cad. Did you let him?" I picked up the pace a bit.

"I told him I'd think about it - after he agreed to have someone read my manuscript."

"Good girl. You have to save something for the negotiation process."

"So we sucked each other off a bit, he stuck his penis in my vagina for a while, and I finished him with a titty-fuck. That's when he started with the love bites; he wanted to lick his own come off of me."

"I'm just as happy you didn't let me suck on your tits."

"Would you like that bath now?"

We stripped and got in my garden tub. We washed each other; I paid special attention to her chest, which was covered with little red marks. "Ooh, easy, Gordon," she giggled shyly. "That warm, wet washcloth feels good." She backed up into me and I washed her hair; she laid her head, still soapy, on my chest. We both leaned back; I was dozing when she whispered in my ear: "Feels like I've left you kind of high and tight." She had turned around, and her hand was cupping my balls. "I never did ask -what did you do with the Mrs.?"

"She took me up to her room on the third floor. It was hard to concentrate though, because somebody in the next room was shrieking her lungs out. Probably a hooker."

She gave my balls enough of a twist to remind me that she still had them in her hand, and smiled. "So they had two rooms at the hotel?"

"I think there's more to them than meets the eye. There's definitely a lot of her that meets the eye."

"So did you come all over her tits? I bet he's licking it off of her right now."

"She let me come inside her, actually. Man, she was tight."

"Probably trying to get pregnant." She leaned over my chest and started rubbing my dick while she nibbled my earlobe. "Quite an evening. Would you like to have what I wouldn't let Carlton have?"

"I'd love it."

She pulled the drain and started the shower. We took turns rinsing off, dried ourselves with big fluffy towels, and headed to my bedroom. She laid down a towel then got on my bed. She was on her stomach. I got the lube. I worked it around her anus and started to push a finger inside.

"Go slow, Gordo."

"Yes, dear."

"Let's not have another unfortunate incident like last time."

"I love it when you talk dirty to me."

"I feel dirty, letting you use my ass like a cheap whore."

I had two fingers in her now, and I was straddling her. The head of my penis was rubbing the bed. I stretched out over her, sucking an earlobe. She raised up enough for me to fondle her breasts gently, then raised her ass up, wiggling it expectantly.

I put some more lube on her ass and my cock, and began to push slowly into her waiting hole, stretching it out slowly. She moaned, and said "Wait. No more." I pulled out some, then back in a bit more. The waiting was murder. I stroked her back. She was sweating a little. Finally she pushed back on me, then out. We got into a rhythm. "Oh, that's good," she said. As I finally slid all of me into her, I could feel her fingers brushing my balls; she was frigging herself while I pumped her.

"Wait," she said. "Relax." I wasn't sure who she was talking to by now - me or herself. "Okay," she moaned. I began to pound into her. "Harder! Faster!" She shrieked, just like she had done in the room next door at the hotel. I remembered Charlene, and her fresh, tight little cunt, and started humping Alex harder. "Right there, right there, right there," she started saying over and over again, in rhythm to my humping. I was close to coming; I had my hands on her hips and she was bucking and squirming, impaled on my cock. I forced myself into her as far as I could go and stayed there; her thighs squirmed and she moaned with pleasure. Finally I started coming; I pulled out and sprayed it on her back.

"Nice. I guess it's back to the shower for me."

"I'll wash you again. I don't mind."

"We'll wash each other. Then it's off to sleep, if you'll let me stay."

"Of course."