The Secret Within Me Ch 02

I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thanks for all of your comments for Chapter One - universally positive, which is amazing. Long may that continue.

For those fans of The EMT and Suzanne, Ian and Graham; I am working on the next section. However, the story has taken me on an unexpected twist which is taking me some time to get used to. I hope to get another Chapter published within a week or two of this. Thanks for your incredible patience.

*****

I had a restless night. Although deeply sated by my powerful orgasm, I couldn't rest in peace. We had cuddled together, and Yvonne had quickly fallen fast asleep as I lay and pondered the evening's events. I finally dropped off about 45 minutes before the alarm roused me for another day of the grind, and after I pressed the "snooze" button, I lay awake and thought about all that had transpired.

I turned on my left hand side to see Yvonne lying next to me, peacefully asleep on her back, and with her chest rising and falling as she breathed. The upper half of her torso was exposed, her breasts naked and perky, the blonde hair framing her angelic face. I wondered "do I really want her to be exciting another man?"

As I lay and watched her, full of love, pride and admiration for her, and as I remembered the excitement I had felt the previous evening, I started to get hard again. I imagined her doing as she had suggested, returning to the gym, this time dressed to take advantage of being watched; dressed in her flimsy leotard wearing nothing beneath. My hand found itself on my growing cock and began to stroke it as it continued to swell to full size. I knew that I wanted her to do it. I wanted her to do as she had threatened, and then to tell me all about it.

The movement of my hand gently stroking my fullness must have disturbed her somehow, and I watched as her eyes blinked, and then as she stretched and yawned and her consciousness slowly returned to her. She looked across at me and smiled at me, love shining from eyes that weren't yet quite focused. As she became awake, she became aware that I was watching her whilst gently caressing myself. She turned towards me.

"Are you thinking about what I told you last night?" she asked.

I nodded my confirmation, but continued doing as I was doing.

"Then I don't need to ask if you are having any second thoughts" she continued. She looked down at my erection, my fingertips now sliding slowly up and down the sensitive underside for maximum stimulation, but falling short of bringing me off.

"You do want me to go to the gym don't you? Tell me that you want me to wear my leotard. I want to hear you say it".

I swallowed and returned her gaze, which had switched to my face. I felt small. I felt guilty about how I was feeling and the thoughts that I had been thinking. I wanted to stop what I was doing, but couldn't. I wanted her to know that this whole idea was exciting me beyond belief. I licked my suddenly dry lips and replied.

"Yes. I am thinking about everything you told me. About how it excited you to be watched." My heart seemed to be booming in my chest; my pulse racing, my voice cracking with emotion and excitement.

"I really do want you to go to the gym, and I really hope he is there again. I want you to wear your leotard and I want him to see you, to watch you."

I had to swallow again as my mouth filled with saliva. She watched quietly as my hand encircled my cock and I couldn't resist squeezing my length, and stroking more firmly, almost exhibiting myself to her.

"I want you to get excited again as he looks at you," I continued, "and I want him to get excited as you show yourself to him."

I had to stop stroking myself to avoid coming, but let my fingertips return to their soft manipulation, keeping me just short of reaching a climax, maintaining the incredible high that I was experiencing through a combination of my self-stimulation, my dirty and perverted thoughts, and, as I was becomingly increasingly aware, by confessing my secret feelings to my wife.

This was an entirely new dimension that I was slowly becoming aware of. I had never confessed my sexual feelings or fantasies to my wife before, and here she was virtually demanding that I did just that. What was more, I started to realise, I was enjoying opening up to her like this, almost submissively acquiescing to her request that I tell her my most private and innermost thoughts. I could actually feel the transfer of power in an almost physical way, as I became less my usually assertive self and responded to her demand that I tell her what she wanted to hear.

I think she started to feel this shift in our respective positions herself. Having heard my willing response to her first demand, she spoke again, quietly and sensitively, but no less demanding.

"So you want me to take this to the next level, whatever that is? Whilst you are at work, you want me to be titillating this stranger by exposing myself to him. Is that what you want? Do you want your wife to be deliberately showing herself to another man? Whilst you are at your desk and powerless to interfere, or to protect me should I need it?"

Her words seemed to cut straight through my pounding heart, through the tight knot in my stomach, and down to where my fingers were now trying to stop their stimulation of my organ as I desperately fought to regain control of myself. What she was saying was indeed exactly what I wanted to happen. I could hardly believe it myself, but I could not deny that this was what I wanted.

Before I could answer her questions, I was saved by the bell, almost literally. The alarm that I had put on "snooze" chose that moment to reassert itself, and the radio burst back into life. It broke the spell that I had been under, and we both realised that there was no more time for this game just now. I reluctantly climbed out of bed and headed for the bathroom, my erection testament to my unspoken answer, and embarrassingly leading the way. From the bed, as she started to get ready to rise herself, her voice followed me, almost challenged me:

"I think when we get a chance we need to speak more about this. It looks to me like you are enjoying this almost as much as I am."

Forty minutes later I was sipping at my first coffee of the day in the kitchen. I had managed to stop myself from bringing myself to a climax in the shower, despite the great temptation to do just that. As the Costa Rica richness burned down my throat, I thought about all that had happened so far this morning.

In the shower, I had heard Yvonne as she fretted about getting ready for the day. As was her usual practice when planning an early visit to the gym, she had quickly washed and brushed her teeth in the bathroom we shared, before retiring to her dressing room where I heard the usual noises as she moisturised and made-up, tidying her hair and choosing what to wear from her extensive wardrobe. She would shower later, after her work-out, leaving me to enjoy the shower for as long as I could afford the time before heading off to work.

In the shower I wondered whether she would really do it, and I started to get hard again at the possibility. However, I was enjoying being on the edge, and chose not to indulge myself with the quick sexual gratification of a lonely wank. I wanted to stretch this out; to remain excited and excitable, and to see what transpired. Little did I know it, but what I was doing was practicing for the more extended voluntary celibacy that I would come to enjoy so much later.

It was getting close to my departure time before Yvonne joined me in the kitchen, and at first I was disappointed to see her arrive not in the figure hugging Lycra as threatened, but in a short white gym skirt and crop top. The flash of disappointment that must have been in my eyes was quickly replaced by a more approving look when I noticed the brighter colour of her leotard showing across her midriff where her tanned skin tones would normally show.

As brief as the flash of disappointment had been, Yvonne had spotted it.

"I thought I should just wear these over the top of my leotard, for decency's sake, until I see how the land lies" she said as she twirled in front of me. "Perfectly decent you see, in case he isn't there. You don't want me showing myself off to just anyone do you?"

I swallowed a mouthful of scolding caffeine too quickly as I realised that she was actually going to go through with this, and coughed and spluttered my appreciation for her twirl. Then she stood before me and lifted her skirt so that I could see the leotard pressing tightly against her sex. A perfect "camel toe" was plainly advertising the fact that she wasn't wearing any underwear, revealing the shape of her vulva, the seam of the garment pressing deep between her outer lips. She spun around and lifted the back of her skirt to show me the perfect shape of her ass, covered only in the thinnest lining of Lycra.

"You like?" she asked.

"I love!" I confirmed. At that moment all I wanted to do was to carry her upstairs to our bed and sink myself into her welcoming moistness. My hands reached for her, but she danced away from me and she kept her distance.

"Oh no you don't!" she said firmly, but with a twinkle in her eye, "I have a sort of date, and you have to go to work. I'll call you as soon as I get out of the gym, but just to tell you whether he was there or not. I won't go into any details until you get home, so don't bother asking."

She took my cup from me and turned me towards the kitchen door, pushing me softly in the back to propel me to my commute. I looked at my watch and realised that I really did need to get going if I was to make my train. I grabbed a quick kiss goodbye, and then propelled myself towards the front door. As I was about to go through it she called after me.

"And leave it alone today. Save it for later. Promise?"

I answered "Yes!" and left wishing she would have a nice day, and then I was back in the real world and on my way to work, my head full of lascivious thoughts about my wife and an unknown stranger.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Work that morning was unbelievable. I could concentrate on nothing, and kept looking at my watch and imagining where she was and what she was doing. Just sixteen hours or so earlier, and I had been heading home as normal, with none of these thoughts or ideas in my head. Now, it felt like my world had been turned upside down by this strange and wonderful game that we had started to play.

In quiet moments, when I was able to think about things properly, my emotions ran through a gamut of passions, including excitement, nervousness, bewilderment, jealousy, pride, love, curiosity and desire. I wondered what was happening to me when my mouth would suddenly fill with spittle and my breathing shorten to brief swallowed gulps of air, and my pulse quicken as my heart raced. At other times, my mouth would be dry, and I'd seek distraction in pouring another cup of coffee that I didn't need.

As lunchtime slowly edged nearer, I kept looking at my phone, praying for it to ring. By noon, it hadn't rung all morning and my worry and concern were mounting. I kept thinking of how things could go wrong; what if they threw her out of the gym for blatant exhibitionism, or what if the others there complained about her behaviour.

Finally, at about 12:30, the phone did ring, and I saw Yvonne's mobile number in the caller display. My heart stopped as I reached for the phone too quickly, nearly knocking the whole contraption to the floor. I managed to grapple with it and get the handset to my ear, and breathlessly said my name.

"Hi. Look, I only have a minute so this will be quick. Everything is OK. He was there, and we had fun. I'll tell you all about it later, but I didn't want you to be worrying all day."

I tried to interrupt with a question, or say that I had been worrying, but she silenced me.

"Not now darling, I have to go. I'll see you tonight and we can enjoy it all at length. I must go. See you later, and love you!"

With that she was gone, and I was left holding a buzzing phone against my ear, and with a raging hard-on beneath my desk. I was bewildered and confused. It took me a minute to rest the handset on the cradle, and I looked at my screen blankly as I replayed every word she had said, a couple of times over, trying to analyse them for any hidden meaning.

If the morning had been painful, then the afternoon was sheer torture. I wanted to call her at home and find out more. I wanted to go to the bathroom and amuse myself with imagining what had happened. But I did neither. I tried to concentrate on the work that I hadn't done in the morning, and failed to do it again. The clock ticked more slowly, and the hours dragged as if the world had stopped turning. The whole afternoon was like one of those interminable nights when you can't sleep, but want to, and the minutes and hours drag by, seemingly without end.

Finally and at last, just as the alarm will eventually ring to signal the end of your insomniac night, the clock approached a position that was close enough to the end of the day to allow me to slip away. I sat on the same train, with the same people, and with the same free newspaper in my hand, but I looked at none of them or it. I just wanted to be home.

And eventually I was. I turned the key in the front door and pushed it open, wondering what was going to be waiting for me on the other side.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The house was silent and still. I called "Hello!" but it wasn't answered. There was no obvious sign of life and, confused, I mechanically put my keys in the drawer and stripped off my jacket as I walked down the hall towards the kitchen. As I passed the door to the lounge, I looked in. Empty. The kitchen was the same. No Yvonne working on dinner. No sign that any sort of a start had been made on preparing dinner. I started to worry.

I had imagined all sorts of scenarios when I approached the front door, but I had never imagined this.

I quickly checked the other ground floor rooms; it was the same all over. No sign of Yvonne, nothing out of order, no sign of occupation. In increasing panic, I ran upstairs. The bathroom was empty, but at least there were signs of life; a used bath towel was hanging over the edge of the bath. I didn't stop to look, but went straight to our bedroom where I burst through the door. I came to a sudden stop.

Yvonne was lying on the bed dressed in her bathrobe and curled into a foetal position, facing away from me. At first I thought it was just a robe discarded thoughtlessly on the bed, but the prominent round towelling covered globes of her bum showed that she was in there, bundled up and covered by the voluminous robe.

My growing panic that something had happened to her turned to relief, and I slowed myself as I stepped across the room towards her. Halfway to the bed, and panic re-asserted itself. Was she ill? Had she been hurt? Was she OK?

I walked around the bed quietly, and looked at her. She was fast asleep, and there was no sign of any injury or trauma. Her beautiful face was cradled on her arm, her eyes closed, and she was breathing deeply and regularly, lost to the world around her.

I watched her for a second or two. I sat gently on the bed beside her and reached over to pull a strand of hair away from her face, and the movement caused her to stir. After the frustrations of my day, and the panic that had arisen in me when she didn't welcome me at the door, I felt a rush of relief and love for her as I watched her slowly awake.

When her eyes blinked open, I leaned over and kissed her on the cheek, and she slowly unfurled and stretched, her arms reaching for me and pulling me to her for another, deeper embrace.

"I'm so sorry," she said, "I must have fallen asleep. You're home already, and I haven't done anything."

I reassured her it was fine, and asked her if everything was OK. If she was OK?

"I'm fine. Really, I'm fine." She rubbed at her eyes and combed her fingers through her hair. "I was late home and jumped in the bath for a soak. When I got out, I was exhausted and just had a lay down. I must have been more tired than I thought, I was fast asleep, and having the strangest of dreams."

I turned and slipped to my knees on the floor at the side of the bed so that I could kiss her again, and she pulled my head into the crook of her neck and cuddled me tightly. She spoke softly into my ear.

"You poor thing. All day at work, and you get home to find nothing prepared for your meal, and your lazy wife fast asleep in bed. What must you think?"

I couldn't think of what to say, and just mumbled something about being happy that she was OK; that I had been worried about her all day, and that I was home now and just glad to be with her. Inside me though, there was a growing and nagging desire to hear about the adventure that had left her so tired, but with her in my arms and our heads together in the comfort of our bedroom, I didn't want to force the issue; I didn't want to break the spell.

After a few minutes she gently pushed me away.

"Go and get yourself a drink while I put something on" she suggested. "Then I'll join you and we can order takeaway. While we are waiting for delivery, I can start to tell you about my day."

I was reluctant to leave her, but she was adamant, and as she scuttled off the bed and made for her dressing room, I returned back downstairs and poured a much-needed gin and tonic.

Yvonne joined me 10 minutes later. She had "thrown-on" a silky pyjama style outfit that she rarely wore, but that she knew I loved. She looked fantastic. The silk material draped over her curves, and she was clearly naked beneath. Her breasts jiggled in a delightful, fluid way when she moved, and the hard peaks of her nipples brushed against the light material, making little moving points that I found it hard to look away from.

"Will you be OK with a Chinese?" she asked, and after receiving my assent, she picked up the phone and called in our usual order of four or five favourite dishes. As she put the phone down and crossed the room to where I was sitting, she sat on the floor at my feet and leant with her arm across my knees. Looking up at me she batted her eyes and spoke in a husky voice.

"Dinner will be about 45 minutes. What would you like to do while we wait?"

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

After I told her I was all ears to hear about her day, she started on her story. Her opening words were enough to grab my immediate and total attention.

"Hmmmmm. Where to begin? Well, I have to confess to the fact that I have been a very naughty wife! Very naughty indeed! And I'm not talking about the 'falling asleep and forgetting to make dinner' type of naughty. Oh no! Something altogether naughtier. I hope that you will forgive me if I make a full confession?"

I gulped another mouthful of G&T and nodded for her to proceed. As she did, her hand playfully crept along my thigh and towards my crotch.

"Well, I went to the gym first thing as you know. I was there by about nine, after the office workers had all left for the office, and before the smaller day crowd had assembled. I looked into the main equipment room as I passed on my way to the Lady's locker room, and it was almost empty. Almost, but not quite! He was there, already working out."

My cock was already expanding down my thigh as her hand reached its tip, and she stroked me through my trousers.

"I thought 'this is perfect! There is virtually no-one else here' and I hurried into the locker room and threw my bag into a locker. I was on my own in there, and I quickly slipped out of my skirt and top, leaving just my leotard. I was already feeling a rush, and when I looked at myself in the mirror my excitement just doubled. God, that leotard is revealing when it is all you are wearing. I wondered if I could go through with it, but said to myself 'it's now or never'."