The Secret Within Me Ch 03

After all of the excitement of the day and the restless night the evening before, I slept like a baby that night, although my dreams were interspersed with commercial breaks, intrusive thoughts that my wife was going on a date the next evening. I was exhausted after all of the emotional upheaval and excitement, so these occasional reminders didn't really wake me, just disturbed me slightly for a few minutes before I went back to dreamland. Before I knew it, the alarm had gone off and I dragged myself immediately from our bed, and to the shower. Yvonne slept on.

After completing my ablutions, I made my customary first mug of coffee which I drank as I dressed for work. I occasionally shook my head in disbelief at the turn of events, unsure quite how I felt about Yvonne's planned date with David.

After making love so passionately last night, and as we had cuddled and whispered reassurances to each other, Yvonne had stated that she would not be visiting the gym today, but rather would spend the morning catching up with housework, before spending the afternoon getting ready for her date. She was to meet David in the lounge of a hotel across town at 7:30pm where they would have a drink before he took her to dinner. We had agreed that the timing was right for me to get home in time to drive her there and drop her off, leaving her free to drink if she chose to do so. When she was about ready to come home, she would either get a cab or call me to tell me where and when to pick her up.

It was time for me to leave for work, and Yvonne was still sleeping comfortably in bed, so I went in to kiss her before I left. She sleepily returned my embrace, and I left the house, locking the door behind me.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

At the office I had a pile of work to get through, mostly unanswered e-mails from the day before, and some heavy analysis on the first quarters spend figures. The work load didn't allow me much time to reflect on developments, but from time to time I would get distracted and remind myself that my own wife was going on a date that evening. Without exception, these little flashes of introspection would result in my renewed arousal, before the pressures of work called me back from the lascivious thoughts that would spring unbidden into my over-active mind.

The day passed reasonably quickly as a consequence of the hard work, and before I knew it, I was on the train again and heading home.

When I entered the house a little before 6:45, I could hear Yvonne in her dressing room, using her hair dryer to apply the finishing touches to her preparation. I shouted up to let her know I was home, and when she heard me, she replied that she would be a couple of minutes, and that I should poor myself a drink. I did just that, and sat in our living room, listening to her potter about upstairs. I was aware that my heart was racing again, and my mouth was dry until I took a strong pull of my cool Gin and Tonic. I swallowed with difficulty as I waited for her to appear.

When she walked into the room, I thought my heart was going to stop. She was beautiful! Heart-stoppingly beautiful.

Her hair and make-up were perfect, her nails freshly lacquered in a rich ruby red that matched the high-heeled shoes she was wearing. She wore a cream skirt that hugged her hips and fell to just above the knee, and was sporting a shimmering pair of stockings in a slightly darker tan shade than she normally wore. I had no doubt that they were stockings; Yvonne never wore tights!

Her top was also cream in colour, knitted mohair and covered in little applique groups of sequins, shaped into the outline of flying birds, and that shimmered and reflected the light. I recognised the top. It was one that she had bought and worn for a friend's wedding a year before and had worn only once since. It had a square neck that left most of her shoulders bare, and it was clear that she had decided not to wear a bra in order for there to be no straps visible on her beautiful naked shoulders.

The whole effect was elegant chic. As she stood in the doorway and smiled nervously at me, she asked me if I "thought she would do". I was speechless, and for the first time really began to appreciate that she had gone to all this trouble to look this good for someone else, and not for me. My heart was in my mouth, and a strong feeling of jealousy forced its way into my emotions.

I told her that she looked ravishing. Jealousy was fighting with lust inside of me, and as much as I wanted to stop her going out, I knew that it was too late. I took another sip of my drink, as at the same time I drank her in with my eyes.

She walked across the room and sat next to me on the sofa, demurely smoothing down her skirt across her upper thighs as she sat, before turning towards me and speaking. For the first time, I noticed the glossy lipstick that she was wearing, slightly less red than her painted finger nails, but much darker than she normally wore. I couldn't take my eyes from her sexy lips as she spoke softly to me.

"It isn't too late to stop this you know," she began. "I know I said last night that I had made a commitment, and that I would be going out with David tonight, but if you are really unhappy about the way this might go, then you can still stop me."

Lust was getting the upper hand over jealousy, but both were still strong within me. She saw my doubt and continued.

"You know that I love you. That I will always love you. This is a rather exciting game that we are playing, but it is only a game. If at any time you feel unhappy, then we can end the game and get back to our real life together."

She looked at me expectantly as my mind continued to debate the issue, as if I had any control. As I looked at her, jealousy had a brief renaissance and I wanted to take her in my arms and hug her to me and keep her to myself. Lust, however, reminded me of the excitement that I had been feeling for the last 48 hours and urged me to go on. It was my turn to speak, and driven by her reassurance that we could stop at any time, I tried to do so.

"I have very mixed feelings," I hesitantly began, "you look amazing; I love you to death; I don't want you to go; I want to spend the evening with you."

I saw a brief flash of disappointment in her eyes, and I kissed her quickly on those killer lips.

"But I am enjoying our game. If you mean what you say, that we can stop when either of us wants to stop, then I do want you to go out tonight and enjoy yourself. I am green with envy, unsure about how I feel, but I don't want to stop this adventure."

I kissed her again, a little peck, not wanting to spoil her perfect make-up, and she smiled at me as if she was relieved that I had decided not to call the whole thing off.

"I feel somewhat the same" she said. "I am nervous and excited, and I want to look my best this evening for David, for another man. I would never have believed that I could feel like that, but I do. I don't know how this will turn out, but I am glad that we are agreed that we should continue."

I looked at my watch and realised that it was time we were leaving if she was going to be on time for her date. We both knew that it was time to leave, and without any need for any further discussion, we stood and headed silently for the car. On the way, Yvonne picked up her little purse and we headed off towards our destiny. I held the car door open for her to slide into the passenger seat and watched wistfully as she swung her legs into the car. If I hadn't known already, I knew then, my wife was one delicious woman.

Little was said in the car on the way there. I think we were both as nervous as each other. We hadn't discussed any kind of limits as to what might happen, or how far she was allowed to let this go. I can't speak for her thoughts at the time, but in my mind, she was free to go with the flow as far as she wished to take things. I had already tacitly accepted that this man I had never met, this David, would probably go all the way with my woman; may enjoy her in ways that were meant to be reserved for me. That was a natural consequence of the route we had started down; it was a thought that had popped into my head several times already over the last 48 hours; it was a possibility that I had accepted and that I was excited by. I didn't want to impose any limits or make any demands. Putting my complete trust in her, allowing her to do whatever she thought was right, seemed to be the only option for me. I was passive. I was a remote observer of this adventure. For this evening at least, David had the potential to possess my wife, and I was aiding and abetting him in doing so by driving her to meet him.

I couldn't stop thinking these thoughts as I drove her across town. I couldn't stop looking across at her, seeing her immaculate beauty, wondering why I was allowing this to happen, knowing how excited allowing this making me. I think that in those thirty minutes, as we headed through the steadily lightening traffic at the end of another normal working Friday, I loved and cherished Yvonne more than I had ever loved and cherished her before. She was my soul buddy, my life partner, my most precious thing, my best friend. And I was giving her away to another man. It made no sense. And yet I knew that I had no choice!

Not because Yvonne had made a commitment. Not because the arrangements had already been made. Not even because we had started an adventure that we each wanted to see through to the end. I had no choice because I started to realise that this was my destiny. Since I had come home to learn of that first day of her new life, to learn that she had been watched, and had enjoyed being watched; since we had planned to take this further, since we had repeatedly taken our carnal pleasure by jointly discussing developments, by imagining just these events, I had started to realise how important this was to me. In 48 short hours I had discovered a sleeping monster that lived inside of me. From nothing, this giant that had lain dormant for so long had been awakened. My secret had now blossomed within me and become part of my core. Part of me. It had fed on the wonderful dichotomy of jealousy and excitement that was churning inside my like boiling oil, grown large on the mixed emotions of envy and pride that surged like spring tides within me. I had no choice because this was what I needed and wanted, although I still had no idea why.

That was the state of my mind as I pulled up outside the designated hotel. Yvonne took a deep breath, pulled down the vanity mirror on her side of the car and checked her make-up and flicked her hair. Then she turned to me and said "Well, here we go!" and without another word, opened her own door and stepped out of the car. As she walked around the car towards the hotel door, as if as an afterthought, she turned and blew me a kiss, and then she was gone; disappearing through the lobby door which was being held open for her by a uniformed commissionaire, who I noticed gave her a very appreciative glance as she walked by.

I sat frozen for a few seconds, staring after her as she disappeared into the lobby, before a toot from behind reminded me that I was holding up traffic. I slowly pulled away, wondering if I should park up and sneak back, looking through the windows to see if I could see her, and him, but I knew I would do no such thing. Resigned to a tense and worried evening, I drove home to begin my lonely vigil for her return.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I won't labour on the details regarding how I spent the next five hours. Suffice to say it was everything that I had anticipated and more. I was lonely. I was tense. I was concerned. I was excited. I was unsettled. I was anxious.

I couldn't drink because I may be needed to drive to collect my wife. I couldn't eat because I was too tense and excited and my stomach was tied in knots. I couldn't settle because of the enormity of what might be happening. I pottered around nervously, achieving very little or nothing. Eventually, at 11:00 pm I tried to lie down and sleep, but tossed and turned endlessly, my head full of questions, my stomach full of butterflies. I kept my mobile phone within easy reach every single minute in case I should get a call, and I picked it up countless times to check that I hadn't missed a message or a call, but there was nothing. Its impassive face stared blankly and mockingly back at me every time I picked it up.

Eventually, at about 12:30 am I heard a key in the front door and I sprang off the bed and rushed to the top of the stairs to see Yvonne turning to shut and lock the door behind her, before heading up the stairs towards me. She smiled wryly at me as she climbed, and I visually examined her as she approached.

She looked pretty much as she had when she left me at the hotel, except her lipstick had faded away. She was still neat and tidy, her hair still nearly perfect, and she was dressed as before. There was no obvious evidence that she had done anything except have dinner, but there was a tiredness in her eyes and a slight nervousness about how she walked slowly up the stairs.

I waited at the top of the flight until she stepped onto the landing to join me, and we looked into each other's eyes questioningly, but finding no easy answers to the questions that we were respectively unable to voice. I know what my eyes were trying to say. It was "what happened? Are you OK?" Her eyes were probably saying something similar. "Are you OK? Are we OK?"

After a few seconds we just stepped together and kissed. Hungrily. With open mouths and searching tongues. I remember my senses all being heightened; searching for any sign of him on her. Wanting to smell his scent on her, taste his taste. But I could discern no obvious sign of him, just the familiar smells and tastes of my wife, of Yvonne, who had come back to me and was kissing me with the same intensity that I was kissing her. We continued wordlessly for several long minutes before pulling apart, kissing again, parting again. Finally, and still without a word passing between us, we turned together and walked into our shared bedroom, my arm possessively around her waist.

It was only when we had both sat on the edge of the bed, side-by-side, that we began to speak. Both starting together, then pausing for the other to speak, and then starting together again, until we finally arrived at an understanding, and I spoke first, this time without any immediate interruption.

"How are you? Are you OK? I've been worried sick about you."

Yvonne held her fingertips to my lips to stem the flow of my questions.

"Shhhh. I'm fine. I'm perfectly fine. I'm home now. We have plenty of time."

I kissed her again, and held her close to me, my chin over her shoulder and my arms wrapped tightly around her. I didn't want to let her go.

"I have missed you so much," I whispered to her, my voice cracking with emotion and with relief. "I am so glad that you are back."

Yvonne broke gently free from my clasp and reached down to remove her ruby red shoes, rubbing her feet in relief, and stretching her toes.

"That feels so good" she said, before reaching back to take my face in her hands. "I guess you want to hear all about it?"

Then it was her turn to kiss me before we each swung ourselves onto the bed, turning to face each other, her dressed sans shoes, me stripped down to my underwear. I could feel the love shining and wetly filling my own eyes, and I could see the same emotion liquidly reflected in hers.

"Yes, I want to hear all about it."

She stroked my cheek as she began to tell her story, hesitatingly at first, and softly, intimately.

"Well, I have to say that it was nothing like I imagined it would be. It was... It was... different!"

She gathered her thoughts.

"When we were in the car going there I tried to imagine what would happen. I was very nervous and nearly had second thoughts and wanted to ask you to take me home. But when we arrived, I knew that I had to go through with it. I was forcing myself to get out of the car and walk into the hotel. That's why I went so quickly. I felt guilty afterwards that I hadn't said goodbye to you properly, but if I hadn't gone straight away, I'm sure I would have chickened out."

I leant in to kiss her and mumbled something that was meant to make her feel better about leaving me so abruptly, but I'm not sure she even heard me.

"In the lobby, I looked around for the lounge bar and walked over to it without thinking. Thank God he was already there. If I had had to wait on my own I'm sure I would have run out of there and chased you down the street."

"But he was there, and before I knew it, he had seen me and stood to greet me and offer me a seat. I could feel the eyes of all the men follow me as I walked over to the booth he had occupied. He had already ordered a bottle of bubbly and had two glasses on the table. He poured one for me and picked up his own, and he made a toast to 'my beautiful companion'. I was flattered by him again, and by his attention, and all of my nervousness just seemed to float away. I drank some wine, and we made some small talk. He was very charming."

Jealousy was re-asserting itself in the melting-pot of my emotions, but I fought it back aided by pride rather than lust in this case. I was very proud of how Yvonne had looked this evening, and I knew that every man in that lounge would have been proud to have had her as his companion. I wanted to know what happened, and it was this interest that spurred me on. I signalled for her to continue with her story.

"As I say, we made small-talk. We chatted away about all sorts of things, and he kept re-filling our glasses. He was easy company, and I was feeling comfortable with him, enjoying his company, enjoying the ambience of the lounge. It was like I imagined it would be at first. We were most of the way through the first bottle and had been chatting for half an hour before I realised it. It wasn't until he asked me about you that things got... well... got different."

I looked at her quizzically. "What do you mean? Different?"

"Well, he asked if you knew where I was. Whether I had told you about him. I thought it was unusual for him to bring you into the conversation. I thought that was a little strange and dangerous for him to do that. We seemed to be getting on fine together, it was like a date should be. It was a date, and he brings up you, my husband. If I had been deceiving you that might have ruined the atmosphere right there. I thought it was a strange thing for him to do."

I could see what she meant. "What did you say to him?" I asked.

"I told him the truth. I said that we had no secrets from each other. That I had told you all about him; all that I knew anyway. And that you had taken me to the hotel yourself. He seemed very interested in my answer, and he nodded at what I said and then he asked me some more questions. 'Do you often go out on dates with other men?' 'Does your husband like you going out on dates?' Things like that. I told him that I had never dated another man in my entire married life, and that what you liked or didn't like was really your own business and not his. I thought that he had gone a bit too far, and I was getting a little cross with him to be honest. I could see our date ending prematurely, and I really felt that he had presumed too much to be asking those questions. You know how defensive I can be on your behalf!"

I knew exactly what she meant. I was easy-going and far more forgiving of others than Yvonne was. She had always been territorial about me, and hated to see anyone take advantage of my laissez-faire attitude. When other people did occasionally take advantage, she would spring to my defence, often before I even realised that there had been any such incursion on my general good nature. I could imagine her now reacting exactly as she had just described, and my heart warmed with love and gratitude towards her.