He Is The One

It was on our 25th anniversary holiday that the words, "He is the one, Frank," were uttered by my wife, Ann. My stomach flipped in an instant because it had been almost four years since I had made a bargain with Ann, and it would be on this trip that Ann would finally play her chip.

It began a few months after our twentieth anniversary. Ann seemed quiet and distant. Our only son had left for college, and we were newly empty nesters. I tried a few times to get Ann to tell me what was on her mind, yet she denied that there was anything serious.

Our marriage had been a good one. Ann was nineteen and a virgin when we married; I was twenty-four and had experienced a few relationships before we met. Our wedding night was consummated wonderfully, and Ann was happy that she had saved herself for the man of her dreams. Just imagine your wife telling you that on your wedding night.

With Ann's fortieth birthday a few months away, she became even more withdrawn, working more hours at the office than she had in years. While I was worried that something might be going on at work, I did not push the issue with Ann. I remembered how, when I was nearing my fortieth birthday, I had decided that I too often had put my needs after Ann and our son, Derek, who was going into high school at the time.

I had saved far more than Derek would need for college, and decided that a classic 1970 Ford Thunderbird in the driveway was the answer to my midlife crisis. I was now thinking that Ann might be going through something similar, but I decided I would have to wait for her to tell me at the right time. I did not have to wait very long.

It was the third night in the same week that Ann had stayed late at work, until almost eight o'clock. I was in the family room when I heard the front door open, and I had been brooding as to whether to complain to my wife about her behavior. I got up and walked down the hall to greet Ann, but as our eyes met, I was surprised that hers were full of tears.

Ann's arms reached up and around my neck, and I drew her into me, asking, "What's wrong, Annie?" That only caused her to cry even louder, with Ann's tears spilling down my shirt as I comforted her. It took a couple of minutes before Ann could compose herself enough to tell me her story.

"I've done something terrible," she blubbered in between sobs. I felt faint; the muscles in my calves and thighs barely kept my knees from buckling. I almost blurted out the question needed to be asked. Was this the beginning of the end of our marriage?

"Let's sit," I offered, wanting to be supported in the event that things were as I feared. I led us to the sofa, our knees touching and her hand in mine. I spoke softly, "We can get through anything. Just tell me."

I listened as my wife explained that she was going through a period of self-doubt, feeling old, and losing her attractiveness. Ann had naturally gained some weight after Derek was born, and over the years, a few more pounds filled her hips out nicely. I love a woman with some meat on her bones, and Ann's DD cups and flared hips only accentuate her beauty.

"I have felt so ugly. I know you tell me that you think I am beautiful, but look at me. I feel so fat." Ann is 5' 3" and probably a hundred and seventy pounds, but she truly is well proportioned and gorgeous.

"Don't be silly," I countered. "I love you just as you are." These words only brought out more sobs. "Just tell me what is going on."

Ann said that an older guy from work had been paying attention to her, and that the attention he gave her was messing her up. "Did you?" I asked, dreading the worst.

"Oh, no!" Ann's head shook side to side, realizing my overreaction. "No, it's just been an emotional kind of thing. I feel horrible because it felt so good to get his attention, and then I would come home and feel shame. He asked me to sleep with him tonight, and I told him no and came straight home."

I pulled Ann into me and kissed her. "As long as you always come home," I said. Annie's relief was tangible. "Now, how about we go upstairs?" I offered. Her eyes brightened immediately, she wiped away her tears, and we went to bed and had great sex!

As we lay there cuddling post-coital, I asked Ann, "So do you still want to fuck the old guy... what's his name?"

Ann shook her head. "Why would I do that? I have you. Besides, I think some people have already been whispering about Ricardo and me."

"Ricardo, eh? A hot Latino daddy?" I laughed while Ann assessed who I was making fun of--her or my own joke.

"Oh, stop it, Frank. But, yes, he has a sweet accent and a little gray around his temples."

"Okay, so Rrrrrricardoooo is out." Ann playfully slapped my shoulder for rolling the 'r' in Ricardo and singing the rest of his name. "So, is there anyone else who you fancy having raw sex with?"

"No. Not at all. Just you, Frank."

"Well, I would understand if you fantasize about other men. After all, I was with a number of women before I met you. Does that make me any less desirable? I mean, it's just sex. It's not like you would be cheating on me. Not if you were totally upfront about it."

Ann sat still and added, "So, you are telling me that I could choose any guy and you would be okay with me sleeping with him?"

"Why not? I know you will come home to me, so yes, I would be okay with that."

Ann shook her head and said, "You are one special guy. I am way too jealous to offer you the same thing."

"That is my point, I said. "I've been with others. I know that you are enough for me. You haven't been with other guys, so..."

"So all I have to do," began Ann, until I interrupted her and finished her sentence.

"So all you have to do is point to some guy and say, 'He's the one. I want him.'"

"Really? And then I could sleep with him?"

"Sure! I would even help you do it if you needed me to. I think that sowing those wild oats would be a good thing for you."

"Hmmm" was Ann's only reply, and then she got out of bed and said that she was going to get cleaned up. Our conversation was done, and for the next nearly four years, Ann rebounded emotionally, which made our bond even stronger, and the subject was never again brought up.

*  *  *

And so, three days ago, when we boarded our luxury Danube river cruise ship, Ann and I were introduced to our butler, Xavier. Each couple on the ship is assigned a butler to bring food or drinks, arrange laundering, or supply forgotten toiletries - whatever they might need. Xavier is a tall, slight, but handsome man, fifty-ish, with salt and pepper hair, tanned skin, and coffee brown eyes.

Xavier carried our luggage to our balcony suite, showed us around, and left a number for us to dial any time we needed something between six a.m. and midnight. He was polite and gracious, and he bowed slightly when he left our room.

The cruise line knew we were celebrating an anniversary on the first night. Xavier told us after lunch that he had arranged a special seating for us with the ship's captain, which is an honor not given to every guest. I thanked him for that, and then Xavier said to Ann with a laugh, "Be careful of the captain though. He can be a bit of a scoundrel."

We dined with Captain George in a smaller dining area, which only made the dinner more special. He did regale Ann and me with a few stories from his days piloting the larger cruise ships. It seems that nothing too exciting occurs on the river cruisers. None the less, our first dinner on board was quite enjoyable.

The next morning at breakfast, Xavier inquired which anniversary we were celebrating and congratulated us on 25 years. Ann asked him if he was married as well. "I was, but no longer," he answered, with a hint of a smile. Ann seemed pleased at Xavier's reply. He asked if we were taking the bus tour to a local winery at our first stop, but we had opted to just explore the local culture by walking into town for the day. Xavier recommended a few must-see shops.

Our river cruiser docked just before noon, so Ann and I strolled along the cobblestone streets of a small eastern European town, hand in hand. Ann looked very happy, and told me, "This is such a beautiful way to vacation, Frank."

"I know. Everything is so rustic and quiet, and the buildings are all hundreds of years old." We dipped into a few shops and found a bistro for lunch. Then, Ann and I made our way back to the ship in time for a drink before supper.

Xavier came out of nowhere as we boarded, and had two glasses of our favorite wine in hand. "Impressive," I commented as he handed us our drinks.

"Thank you, Xavier," added Ann, blushing at his broad smile.

He offered, "I am here for your pleasure, ma'am." With that, he nodded and left us on the deck to enjoy our beverage.

While I had noticed his gentlemanly gestures, like pulling out Ann's chair at every meal and bringing a rose to adorn our dinner table, I had also recognized how smitten Ann was becoming with Xavier. I expect that keeping a wife happy is the best way to have a couple return to your cruise company. Even so, I did not think anything of Xavier until that evening.

We were dining and had just finished the delicious Caesar salad that would set our appetites for the main course--a local favorite--stuffed cabbage. I wore a grey polo shirt and dress pants, while Ann wore my favorite outfit--a black mini skirt that always has her tugging the hem down so as not to show off her goods. Her white chiffon blouse left little to the imagination; Ann's breasts billowed over the two top undone buttons. Her thick, large nipples made bullet-like bumps through the nearly shear bra and blouse.

"I love that dress, Annie! You look spectacular tonight."

"I know you do, Frank. Thank you," replied Ann, shyly.

That was when Ann leaned toward me, showing off her ample cleavage, and said, "That's him, Frank."

I did not understand the reference at first. "Him?" I asked, looking around the dining area to figure out who she was referring to. "Who?"

Ann glided her cheek against mine and whispered into my ear. "Xavier." I didn't get it, and after leaning back to examine my curious look, Ann once again approached my ear. She playfully nibbled on it and added, "Xavier. He is the one! I love his charming accent, and he is so sweet."

As Ann leaned back, my right hand reached around the back of her head so that I could pull her in for a long kiss. When we parted, Ann looked again to read my face, but I was way ahead of her. "I will ask," I said, standing and turning toward Xavier. My heart pounded aloud as I neared our butler.

"Yes, Mr. Jones?" Xavier stood at attention as I approached, so as to be ready to respond to my query.

"Can we speak over here?" Xavier walked beside me as we made our way to a quiet place just outside the dining area.

Checking that we were quite alone, I spoke softly. "It appears that my wife has taken to your charming manner and would like to speak with you about a personal request that she has. Maybe after your shift ends? In our room?"

A veiled smile broke on his face, and Xavier nodded. "Will you be present, Mr. Jones, or should I tend to her needs myself?" His face drew solemn, not allowing anyone watching to know of our devious conversation.

"Oh, I will certainly be there to introduce you personally to Ann. Then, I may take a walk around the top deck for a while."

"You have my word. My shift ends at midnight. I will definitely take care of her for you."

"Thank you, Xavier." I nodded and went back to the table. I wondered how many couples would make such an offer to someone like him. Ann looked concerned until I winked at her and sat down. "He will meet us after midnight," I announced in a low tone.

Ann's eyes lit up. Just then, a waiter arrived with our main course, and things went back to normal for a while. Before dessert arrived, Ann asked, "Are you sure, Frank?"

I took Ann's hand and kissed the back of it. "Positive!" A second later, it hit me like a brick. "Shit!" I blurted out before realizing that I was speaking my thoughts aloud. Xavier was clear in his intentions, but I had overlooked the obvious.

Ann saw my worried look. She peered around and leaned in. "What?"

"Condoms," I whispered. She joined me in my panic. I hadn't thought this through.

"I wasn't even going there. I was thinking of maybe a handjob or blowjob."

"That was it? A blowjob? But what if things start getting hot and heavy?"

"Oh, my! I didn't think of that. I was just thinking of the spontaneity."

I thought for a moment and then suggested, "Remember the pharmacy we saw on our way back to the ship today?"

Ann heaved with relief. "Oh, yes! Can we...?"

"Go for an evening stroll after dinner? Sure." Our dessert arrived, and I noticed that Ann kept checking in to make sure I wasn't showing signs of angst.

When we finished our meal, Ann and I made our way down the gang plank, walked along the well-lit street to the drug store, and made the necessary purchase. I felt more than a tingle of excitement knowing that the female clerk had no idea that I was purchasing condoms for a stranger to use with Ann.

"I'm sorry, Frank. I wasn't thinking about all of this," said Ann on our way out of the store.

I shook it off and said, "It's no problem at all, Annie. I just want you to be safe."

She then asked, "Now that we have the chance to discuss it, is there anything that you don't want me to do with Xavier?"

"No, not at all. Be yourself, and enjoy whatever happens. I know that you will always come back to me." Ann took my hand in hers, and we got back to our room just after ten and sat down on the chairs on our balcony, and enjoyed the night lights dancing off the serene river.

"I feel like I did on our first date," said Ann, crossing and uncrossing her legs. Her skimpy panties peeked out and disappeared with every movement. Time seemed to be dragging as we awaited Cavier's arrival. I checked my watch and saw that it was just past eleven. I knew that the next hour or so would likely drag on.

"You look just as wonderful, Ann." I went inside and picked up the handset for the phone and dialed the number for our butler.

On the first ring, Xavier answered. "Yes, Mr. Jones?"

"Good evening, Xavier. Mrs. Jones and I would each like a glass of sherry. We are enjoying the evening on our balcony, so would you please bring our drinks straight through? I have left our door unlocked."

"Very good, sir." Ann was looking quite pleased as I spoke, and now her face was blushing.

I stepped outside to join Ann on the balcony, and Ann said, "You really know how to tease a girl. I really do need a drink, though." She raised her right hand and held it out flat, fingers down. It trembled slightly in the moonlit glow.

A few minutes later, there was a knock, followed by Xavier's announcement, "Room service." He continued in while Ann and I remained in our chairs. When Xavier stepped onto the tiny balcony, it was now filled to capacity. "Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Jones." As he carefully lifted the first glass from his tray, he asked, "I trust you both enjoyed your evening walk."

"Oh, yes, Xavier. Very much," offered Ann, reaching to take his offering. As she did, her full thighs parted slightly, offering our butler an unfettered view of her panty-covered pussy, and billowing cleavage. I felt my cock beginning to respond to my wife's antics. "Thank you, Xavier," Ann said, sitting back in her chair, yet carelessly leaving her thighs parted for him.

"You are most welcome, Señora," he offered, reaching for my glass without taking his eyes from hers. "You look very lovely tonight." He paused long enough so that his eyes could travel slowly to my wife's chest and appreciate as they heaved with Ann's bated breath. Once more, his eyes lowered to her sex, and he sensually licked his lips, finally leaving that view to attend to my drink.

When Xavier lifted my glass and extended it to me, his eyes turned to mine. "You, sir, are a very lucky man."

Without missing a beat, I looked directly at Ann's parted thighs and then back to Xavier. "Tonight, Xavier, I think we both are." I was rock hard at that point.

"Will that be all, sir?" Xavier stood at attention.

"Yes. For now," I teased.

"Very well, sir." Xavier nodded, and then he turned toward Ann and nodded to her, his eyes returning to hers in that crisp, professional manner. I presented a ten-dollar bill, and Xavier once again nodded and accepted the gratuity. He turned and left us to ourselves.

Ann spoke as Xavier closed our room door. "Oh, my God. Did you see that?"

Our eyes met. "I definitely saw what you were showing off!."

"Not that. Xavier had a stiffy." Her face was crimson as she sipped from her glass.

"I am not surprised. I have my own stiffy to worry about!"

Ann giggled and noticed my tented slacks. "Yes, you do." She slid a hand up my thigh, but I intercepted it.

"If you touch me right now, I will cum in my pants!"

My wife slid her ass to the edge of the chair, reclining back, and with that, Ann's black satin panties came into full view. "See how wet I am," she directed. I slid one hand up each of Ann's creamy, white thighs and slipped my left thumb beneath the heated legband of her sodden panties. It found the slickness of Ann's engorged clitoral area.

"You are fucking soaked, Annie!" She nodded in guilty pleasure.

We each sipped again, fighting off the dry mouth that comes with this kind of anticipation. I looked at my watch. 11:40. "I want to eat you right now," I said in a softer voice, knowing how close our neighbors on each side were.

Ann pushed my hands away. "Later," she instructed, sitting up straight once more and hiking her hem back in place, "After he leaves. We enjoyed the quiet of the evening, and in due time, a more shallow knock came from our door.

By the time I was up to answer it, Xavier had slipped inside. His sterile black uniform was gone; instead, he wore grey slacks and a crisp, white button-down shirt. A hint of cologne entered with him, and I felt Ann stepping in from the balcony, behind me.

As the six-foot man neared us, standing at the foot of our bed, I tried to break the awkwardness with, "Xavier. This is Ann. Or, Annie, if you like." I stepped back so that Ann and he could meet. Once again, just the action of presenting my wife to him had all six inches of my dick climbing toward the waistband of my dress pants.

Xavier extended his hand and took Ann's hand, kissing the back of it. "Hello, my sweet Annie."  He extended his arms so that she could be held in them, and Ann turned her face to the side as the two fell into a warm embrace. Her bountiful breasts pressed into Xavier's manly chest;

his groin pressed against Ann's lower abdomen.

"I think I will take a walk on the top deck," I said, needing to pass them by to get to our door.

Ann held one arm out to block my path. "No. Please stay. I want you here. Is that alright, Xavier?" I was caught by surprise at her words, as was Xavier. This was not at all what I had envisioned, and it was odd that Ann was giving Xavier a say as to whether I stayed or left.

He looked at me. I shrugged. "Sure," he answered. I went to the one small reading chair in the corner of the room and sat. Although I wasn't disappointed to be invited to stay, this was beginning to look a little like one of those cuckold scenes from many porn sites.

Ann wasted no time in slipping Xavier's belt away and unbuttoning his slacks. I stood and reached into my pocket. "Don't forget these," I announced, while they both turned to see what I was talking about. I stepped beside the bed and set the package of three condoms on the night table under the lamp.

When Ann reached one hand down Xavier's underwear, she let out an audible gasp. I was seated by then, and Xavier chuckled a bit looking at the package of condoms. "I am not sure they will be of much use," he said with a grin.