Eva Discovered: ConclusionbyCraig C©
This forms the concluding part of my first story ‘Eva Discovered’. It will make more sense if you read that story first (it’s not too long).
Our experience at the golf club that night forced us to clear the air surrounding our sex life. We didn’t talk much that night, when we got home we simply wrapped ourselves in each other until, exhausted, we fell asleep.
But in the days and weeks after, we discussed what had happened more rationally and a picture began to emerge.
Eva wasn’t so demure that she didn’t realise she was still an attractive woman, but she was conscious of getting older and realised that I might be the only man she would ever sleep with. It wasn’t, she stressed, that this was such a terrible thing, but it just seemed to remind her of the narrowing of life’s options as you get older. So many things she had wanted to do - thought she would do, and she finds herself looking back on a comfortable middle class life as a housewife and part-time help in my business.
Lately, she said, sex had just started to remind her more of what she had missed in life, rather than what she had got. She had started, almost unconsciously, to avoid it. Until that night at the club.
Eva confessed that a combination of our argument that night, the lack of sex recently, the booze and the attentions of the young bandsman was just enough to push her over the edge and into his arms.
She thought: “When am I ever going to be in a position like this again? Dressed up to the nines and alone on a secluded terrace with a handsome young man who wants me.”
She was apologetic and so was I. She gets all defensive and clams up when something goes wrong in our marriage, and I get aggressive and pick a fight. It solves nothing.
But, now we had been forced to confront what was going on in our relationship, the communication (and the sex) had got much better.
While I wasn’t exactly thrilled about Eva’s actions out there on the terrace that night, I accepted some of the blame for what had happened - and I had to admit I was enjoying the upswing in our sex life. Eva explained that her experience, while she had no intention of repeating it, had made her appreciate what she had more and left her with just a little whisper of erotic possibility that soothed her concerns about missed opportunities.
Over the next weeks and months we sometimes used that night to fuel our fantasies and both enjoyed the erotic charge such thoughts brought to our lovemaking. Eva made it clear though that they were to remain just that - fantasies.
The thought of any adultery, ‘all that sneaking around’ as Eva put it, turned her off and she found the idea of swinging ‘a little tacky’ (sorry swingers!).
For my part, I had never been much into the whole ‘cuckold’ thing and our quite prominent position in our small town’s social life would make any gossip hugely embarrassing to us.
To be honest I think we were both quite happy with that. We were fairly middle-of-the-road people who had experienced an erotic and forbidden episode and come through the thing unscathed.
So it was that we continued with our comfortable and predictable life with maybe just a little spring in our steps.
Business continued to be good and steady and we continued with our hobby of travelling to a new European city for a long weekend after every business quarter.
We had already visited most of the big capitals like Rome, Madrid, Paris, London, Berlin and Brussels, and even more exotic places like Prague, Budapest and Reykjavik (You’ve got to go experience these hot pools and geysers). It was my job to arrange the whole thing, including the destination, as a surprise for Eva and it was a task I loved. But finding new places we could easily reach in a weekend was becoming more difficult.
I was surfing the web looking for ideas for our next trip when one of our reps, Ben, came into the office. We chatted about past trips (Ben is also a bit of a traveller and can usually be relied upon for good tips) and he surprised me by suggesting Amsterdam. To be honest I had steered clear of the place. I had an image of a rather seedy city, full of hookers, drugs and drunken stag parties: not my cup of Earl Grey I told him.
Ben told me that my impression was probably bang on at the weekends, but Amsterdam was really very beautiful and, if you went off season and during the week, you could appreciate it without so much of the downsides. It seemed like a good idea to me and as our next trip was due at the beginning of October we would probably be ‘off season’ enough. I booked it up. We flew out on a Sunday morning, taking Ben’s advice about the weekend, and intended to stay Sunday and Monday nights and be back in the office by Wednesday morning.
Ben was right, Amsterdam was beautiful and we enjoyed visiting the museums, flower markets and taking trips on the canals. By Monday night we felt we had done the sights and at dinner I suggested to Eva that we venture into the ‘red light’ district for a look around. She had already read in her guidebook about how well policed and safe it all was, and was happy to go have a look.
Part of our weekends had always been about sex (there’s just something about a posh hotel and being anonymous in a new city that I find gets a girl going!) and lately of course things were better than ever in this department.
Eva didn’t dress particularly ‘mousy’ at home, but it would be fair to say that she let her hair down just a little more when we were on our trips.
Tonight she was wearing a fitted shear silk black blouse which was open enough to display a hint of her deep 40D cleavage. This was tightly belted in to an ass hugging black pencil skirt with a discreet slit on her thigh. She wore stockings and black stilettos and underneath some daring Agent Provocateur lingerie I had bought her for the trip. A bit traditional for some perhaps, but Eva knows how to press all my buttons.
With the conversation neatly turned to what we might find in the red light district I suggested I buy her a new vibrator. She has one of those ‘rabbits’ at home but would be far too embarrassed to bring it on our trips in case our bags were searched. She seemed genuinely excited by the idea and I started teasing her about buying a huge black lifelike one if she was very good. Eva began to sound all kittenish, which was a good sign that she was becoming aroused;
“How can I be good then?” she whispered.
I decided to press home my advantage:
“The waiter will be back with the check soon, give him a little more to look at.”
Our table was against a wall and Eva was sitting with her back to the room, so that the waiter had to lean over her to serve. I had already noticed him steal a quick look down Eva’s top and I new she was always aware of these things too. She gave me a wicked little smile, and with her coffee cup held in front of her in one hand, she discreetly lifted her other hand to her blouse. When she lowered the cup, another button was undone on the shirt and even from my viewpoint a good three inches of deep cleavage was on show. I knew her new bra was barely half cup and completely transparent: the waiter was in for a show.
Sure enough he lingered over her long enough when he brought the bill to get a real good look. When he left Eva said teasingly:
“Well, was I good enough?”
“We’ll see in a minute.”
“What do you mean?”
I knew this next request was a bit much, but I was desperate to see how far she’d go to win her ‘prize’.
“Before he comes back with my card I want you to pop your tits out of you bra. Keep the shirt as it is.”
This was more of a challenge. The waiter was sure to have another look down her shirt and this time he’d be able to see everything.
Eva hesitated, her dark eyes flashing. But then, with a quick glance to either side to check no-one could see, she quickly put a hand inside the blouse and pulled down the cups of her bra.
She lit on of her rare ‘stress’ cigarettes and we waited for our sever to return. The bra was pushing out her bare tits against the thin material of her blouse and I was intrigued by the obvious hardness of her nipples. Soon our waiter returned with my card, and took his time leaning over Eva and clearing away some dinner things. Eva made no attempt to cover herself and held my eye the whole time. When the waiter finally disappeared she quickly snapped her tits back into the flimsy bra and said: “I hope my prize is bloody worth it.”
To be honest, at that point I just wanted to get a taxi back to the hotel and go straight to our room, but a deal is a deal..
We held hands as we walked into the red light district, having stopped off at a traditional little bar for some (fittingly) dutch courage. The bar served small schooners of beer as is the local custom, but we also noticed some ready made grass ‘joints’ for sale behind the bar. What the hell, I hadn’t had any pot since college and there was probably very little in the prepared joints. I bought one and lit it up when I returned to our table: “When in Rome” I grinned at Eva.
The joint had a mild euphoric effect we were both enjoying as we walked down between the canal and the shop windows where the girls were displaying themselves. The stag crowds had departed sure enough and the area was busy without being to raucous or uncomfortable. There were plenty of police around. good naturedely patrolling the streets.
I found a sex shop easily enough and bravely purchased a huge black vibrator which the shop girl insisted on demonstrating on the counter as Eva giggled in the background. I presented her with her prize and we went back outside and headed in the direction of the hotel. It had been a great night and we were both looking forward to what would come later.
We past lots of clubs offering sex shows on the way home, but they were all aimed at men only it seemed. But then we cam across a ‘couples only’ show and hesitated at the entrance. We were about to leave when two very presentable looking couples about our age walked right in. That made our minds up and we followed inside.
It was quite smart inside, with rows of little booths curving around a central stage. We took a seat and were immediately presented with some ‘champagne’ which was included in the entrance fee. The show was a serious of scenes where couples and groups acted out scenes of seduction and what looked like real sex against a backdrop of thumping rock music. It was actually quite good. We both relaxed and I ordered a bottle of better champagne and we settled back to enjoy the show.
The booths afforded a degree of privacy and we took full advantage, fondling each other under the table as we graphically described what we’d like to do to each other, and to some of the actors on stage.
Eva had to ‘powder her nose’ and I had a look around the room whilst waiting for her to return. I noticed a few couples disappearing into rooms dotted around the place and I asked our waitress what they were up to. She told me couples could buy ‘private performances’ inside. I was intrigued and suddenly fancied one last treat before going home. I asked how much a private dance would be.
“Would you like for you or the lady? Guy or girl, or both?” She smiled.
I knew that Eva wouldn’t like one of these sylph like young girls gyrating in front of her, so without thinking further I blurted out: “Male, a guy.”
“Sure. She like black or white?”
Christ, this was like Starbucks or something.
“Err, black, I think.”
“Good. Black it is. One hundred euros. Room 5. Ten minutes ok?”
“OK.” I slipped her the notes.
I wasn’t quite sure what I had got us into, but when Eva returned (looking pretty sultry I have to say) I told her I had a surprise for her.
“Good.” Was all she said.
We finished the champagne and found room 5. Inside was a tiny stage and a two seater leather chesterfield sofa. The lighting was subtle and we were prompted to sit by the waitress.
As soon as we were left alone music started up and a young black guy entered through a door behind the stage curtain and started immediately gyrating to the music. He was wearing a sort of ‘gladiator’ type outfit which he started to shed. I must admit, he was lean and well muscled and Eva was transfixed.
As the dance progressed, he stripped down to a pair of very tight leather shorts with studded fastenings up the front and impressive bulge in the crotch. There was a ten euro note poking out of the waistband. I got the picture and handed Eva a bundle of notes.
As this guy gyrated not three feet in front of where we sat, Eva leaned forward and popped a ten in his pants - I guess everyone has seen this sort of thing at hen nights or whatever.
He popped one of the studs on the pants.
Eva giggled and gave me a little sideways glance. I nodded and she repeated the process.
After three tens were exchanged it became apparent that the next stud to pop would expose the dancer’s cock. Eva placed it carefully in the waistband and the guy moved forward a little and popped the stud. A good 8 inches of black cock sprung free and was now stabbing the air about a foot from Eva. Where we sat it was about level with her face.
She let out a slight gasp, but was actually beginning to squirm in her seat. Her nipples were standing proud through her shirt.
With one hand I began to stroke her thigh whilst the other toyed with her hair as she watched the show. Time seemed to stand still, and then, quite suddenly, the dancer moved forward and the head of his engorged cock was about two inches from Eva’s face.
She turned to me with a look on her face that seemed a mixture of surprise, fear and deep longing. I just smiled a little, but as she turned back I used my hand on the back of her head to push her forward just a little. It was enough. Eva’s lips perfectly met the dancer’s cockhead and parted as he slipped it in her mouth. She started to suck him.
I continued to play with her hair as she sucked him and started to feel her heaving tits. She groaned and reached for my zipper, quickly freeing my cock and beginning to wank me hard. With her other hand she started to pump the dancer’s shaft as he pistoned in and out of her gloriously stretched red lips. I was getting close and roughly pulled her tits out of her shirt. The dancer immediately grabbed them and kneaded the hot flesh. My hand crept up her skirt and found her soaking panties. I pulled them to one side and stuck a finger inside her. Eva came immediately in huge gasping sobs as she contracted around my finger.
She set off a chain reaction. I couldn’t hold out any longer and erupted over her pumping hand, lacing her fingers and her three silver bangles. The dancer tensed, then stilled and I knew he was spurting his cum into my wife’s eager sucking mouth. Halfway through, he pulled out and gave her a facial, before aiming what was left all over her bared tits.
Eva slumped back onto the sofa as the guy quietly left the way he had entered. We cleaned up quickly and left for the hotel where exhausted and wanton and even a little bit grateful, Eva gave me her ass for the first time.
Thanks for reading. Sorry it was a bit longer than I intended. No more ‘Eva’ stories for the moment as we have so far not repeated these experiences. Eva is content just to know that the possibility is there so that one day, maybe...
Would welcome feedback.