I wrote this story for Tiffany. Thanks for all your help, Tiff. I hope you're pleased with the outcome.
Chapter Two
I normally got out of bed with Nick each morning he was at home, even when he was heading off to work at some ridiculously early hour. With him continuing to be so busy, those moments were some of the few opportunities I had to spend some time with him.
But not this week.
This week, I'd been avoiding him as much as I could, still paralyzed with guilt at what I'd done during the last couple of weeks.
How could all this have escalated so quickly?
Not that Nick had noticed my withdrawn reaction. He was too busy working every minute of the day and night. So, like most mornings this week, I waited until I heard the front door close before pulling myself out of bed. I hated acting like this, but until I could get my head together and think more clearly, it was the path of least resistance.
I fixed myself a pot of coffee as I paged through a few back copies of Japanese fashion magazines. Yoko had provided them for me at my request, so that I could see her in her prime Supermodelling days. Each one featured her photograph on the front cover and if anything, despite the newsprint's poor ink quality, she was even more beautiful when she was younger.
The way those dark eyes stared back at me from each front page cover sent a shiver of appreciation through me—she was so charismatic, so vibrant—and yet that indefinable quality of hers shone through, too. The one that told you she could see inside your soul and help you obtain anything you wanted.
Even if that need had been buried deep inside your unconscious mind...
I ducked into the shower as I began to dwell on what had happened over the last couple of weeks. While I hated myself for doing what I had, there was no denying how exciting it had been. My emotions were a confused mess of self-loathing, disgust, and unquestionably thrilling eroticism.
It was as if I'd returned to the wild days I'd continually enjoyed before I'd met Nick. My long, golden hair and curvy body had attracted men ever since I was a teenager and sex became as natural to me as breathing. Life was for living, yes? It was only I'd met Nick that I'd put that wild side behind me.
Yet, as I soaped my body beneath the hot spray of the shower, a very wicked voice whispered, "But you miss it..."
It was true. I did.
The impish voice had been with me since childhood—since I'd first learned to masturbate, when I'd had my first cigarette, my first taste of alcohol, my first joint, my first forbidden fuck with a married man, and when I'd experienced my first woman. And it had recently returned with a vengeance.
The luffah felt good as I glided it along my skin, sending little electric jolts through my body as I passed it over my nipples. I sighed with pleasure as I set it down, switching to my hands to spread the liquid soap across my breasts, my flat stomach, and ... down between my legs.
"No," I murmured aloud, pulling my fingers away.
I really had to find a way out of the all-consuming arousal that was threatening to drown me. Yoko was immersing me in a new world, one in which I was returning to my wild past and indulging my sexual thirst. But my past was my past and things were different now—I was married, after all.
And yet I'd visited the exclusive massage studio three more times since Yoko had originally taken me there. I'd been drunk that first time, drunk and horny, and had been unable to resist Táchira as he took the massage to a different level. But since then I'd known exactly what I was doing.
Yoko had arranged and paid for the further appointments, twice weekly, persuasively telling me that by relieving my sexual tensions in such a discreet way, I'd be better prepared to take care of Nick's needs when he needed attention. It was the Japanese way, she'd convincingly explained.
I'd gone along with the strange logic, telling myself that she knew better than I and that I'd do anything to help Nick's wellbeing. But inside my mind, my little voice was whispering the truth. The real reason I was indulging myself was because of the sexual needs that had building inside me ever since the pressures of Nick's job had gradually made our sex life virtually nonexistent.
That's when everything had begun to escalate...
Táchira had once again shown me what a wonderful lover he was on my second visit, but the third time he wasn't available. Or so I'd been told. A younger masseuse had attended to me and I'd been so shocked I'd almost fled.
Almost...
Instead, I'd allowed him to go through the same ritual as Táchira—making me cum with his fingers before climbing onto the large massage table and fucking my brains out. It had actually been more exciting with him, because I'd known what was about to happen. The next visit it was an older, thickset Japanese masseuse who was waiting for me. He'd had a humongous cock.
But now—well, now—the warning bells were well and truly ringing in the back of my head, telling me that I had a difficult decision to make. Matters were close to getting out of hand and if I kept this morning's appointment at the exclusive studio, it could well be too late to put a stop to all this.
I needed time to think.
Despite Yoko's persuasive words, I wasn't become a better wife to Nick through this—I was avoiding him, for God's sake. And worse, all this sex wasn't satisfying me, far from it. I was craving even more with every illicit fuck. I'd fucked three different Japanese men over the last couple of weeks and number four would be waiting for me at the studio later.
Despite the eager voice whispering in my ear, could I really allow that to happen? Before I'd properly thought through the consequences? No, it would be much safer to stay home today and give myself time to think.
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I hooked my legs around the masseuse's slim body and dug the soles of my feet into the top of his ass. Oh my God, the way it forced his hard cock even more deeply inside me was sublime.
So much for my resolution!
When it had come down to it, the little voice in my ear had won out and I hadn't been able to resist the thought of checking out the new masseuse waiting for me. I hadn't been disappointed.
His youthful good looks were only outweighed by his arrogance, but I didn't mind that. I'd had plenty of arrogant men in the past and there was something about attitude that had always turned me on. Unlike the others, he didn't massage me for long before stripping out of his white uniform and letting me see his lean body. I almost drooled at the sight.
