First and foremost a big thank you to Randi for her incredible editing and guidance.
Please remember, there will be mistakes in here. Not because of the editing, but because I am a serial tinkerer. I know I shouldn't but I play with the story even after editing..
So mistakes, they're all mine....
*****
"Wow!" Mark couldn't stop smiling as he recalled the incredible start to their day. His wife Liz had awakened him with a blowjob so wonderful he thought he was still asleep, dreaming. No, it was real all right, and she took him to heights he had never envisioned.
Lying back trying to catch his breath, he reached for her, but she bounded out of bed, running for the shower, her cute little breasts bouncing sexily as she sped towards the bathroom.
"I wanted to repay you is all," he called.
She blew him a kiss. "It was a gift, my sweet man. Just something to show you how much I love you."
He slid out of bed and caught her in the shower. With her head covered with shampoo, she didn't hear him come in, but as his body rubbed against hers, she jumped, startled. "What are you doing?"
"Saving water," he spluttered through the stinging needle jets.
She giggled sexily. "Well, I'm just finishing. You can have it for yourself."
As she slipped by, she circled his waist with her arms, squeezing him tightly, her luscious body pressed tightly against him.
Her lips tasted of shampoo, but the kiss was scintillating. "I do love you, Mark Webster, and never forget that for one moment."
He peered back into her deep green eyes. "How could I ever forget?" he said "I love you just as deeply, Liz. I am yours, and you are mine."
She kissed him playfully, replying, "Don't take too long. Breakfast will be ready in ten. I have an early client this morning."
The breakfast was full of sexy glances and flirting. Life couldn't be better.
At work that morning, Mark reflected on their marriage. It had been one of ups and downs, like all marriages, he mused. Their children came along early in their marriage. It wasn't planned as such, but with the arrival of Kate, their eldest, they decided to have another quickly so they would be close together. Melanie arrived the next year.
Liz had stopped work to be with them. She believed that the bonds of parentage were formed early in a child's life. She loved everything about being a stay-at-home Mom, but decided once they went off to school, she would return to work.
The girls remained their focus, and still were in many ways, but when Melanie left for college, Liz fell into a bit of a slump. Call it empty nest, call it what you will, but the depression really set in. She spent the next year funneling herself into her practice and helping other people.
Suddenly though, two years before, everything changed, and it was like a fog had lifted. Her bubbly positive personality was back. She cut back her hours, and it was like Mark had become the center of her universe.
Their sex life, which had been circling the toilet, was back to its sparkly best. In fact, it was like a switch had been thrown, and she was this new-born sex fiend. She wanted to experiment, try new things, and Mark couldn't have been happier if he tried.
It was an incredible time for him. Every weekend, Liz organized exciting events, holidays, romantic dinners. He kept telling himself how lucky he was.
After that morning, though, he decided he needed to repay her lustful gift. Ringing around the city, he got a reservation for lunch at the fanciest restaurant he could.
He drove to Liz's practice, which was on the outskirts of the city, via a jewelry store and florist. This was going to be one hell of a surprise. Mark admitted he wasn't really the romantic type. Usually, it was Liz who caught him off guard. Today, the shoe would be on the other foot.
He waked into her practice front door with great expectations. Liz shared the building with a young naturpath, and a massage therapist. The receptionist, Carol, recognized him immediately. "Good morning, Mr. Webster."
"Hey there, Carol. Busy morning was it?"
"Yes, it sure was. If the flowers are for Liz, she will be disappointed. She is meeting with a client in the city."
"Damn it. What time will she be back?"
Glancing down at her diary, Carol peered up unhappily. "Her next client isn't until two thirty. She will probably have lunch with her client."
Mark handed over the flowers, which had the diamond earrings in a silver package by the card. "Oh well, could you make sure she gets these, please?"
"Sure can," Carol answered. "Is that jewelry in the organza bag?"
"Yeah, if you could be careful, I would appreciate it."
'"Sure, I'll make sure it's the first thing she sees when she walks in."
"Thanks, Carol," Mark said sadly as he walked out. Maybe all wasn't lost. He phoned Liz's mobile, but it went straight to voice mail. He left a cute little message, and headed back to the city.
Trying to salvage his canceled meeting, he phoned his one o'clock meeting, Andrew Mots. "Andrew, if you're still around, I could meet you for lunch?"
"Sure thing, Mark. We are going to be at the Grand, on Wellbourne Street, if you can make it."
"Yep, I'll be there, just give me fifteen minutes."
He rushed into the front lobby and looked up on the noticeboard to see where the restaurant was. As his eyes flicked past the reception counter, he had to do a double take. There was his wife of twenty four years, registering with another man. They stood side by side as the man handed over his card.
Liz leaned in close, balancing on one foot to kiss him lovingly. Luckily, her other hand was clasped tightly in the grip of the other man.
To say Mark was shocked would be an understatement. He was well beyond that. He came to a stuttering stop, his eyes glued to what was happening in front of him as if it was a horror story.
He needed to get to the bottom of it, but it happened so quickly he was caught off guard. They turned as if they had done this a thousand times before and walked quickly hand in hand to the elevators.
Mark was quick, but the doors closed before he could get there. What to do? He watched the tell-tale, and it stopped on the fifth floor. Should he run up the stairs? No, that was ridiculous. They would be in their room before he could get there.
"What in god's name is going on?" he muttered under his breath. As he looked up, he caught the ye of the receptionist. He walked back to the counter.
"That couple who just signed in. What room are they in?" he demanded loudly.
The woman, confused, and a little scared, said, "Sir, we can't give you that information."
"Like hell you can't. That woman is my wife. Now give me the damn number."
The man standing down the desk came walking up to stand beside his petrified assistant. "Sir, I'm not sure what you are trying to accomplish. The information is private and confidential."
"Were you listening? That woman is my wife."
The man, cool and calm, said, "Perhaps you were mistaken?"
"Look, dipshit. That was my wife. For Christ's sake. We've been married for over twenty years. Do you think I would make a mistake like that?"
The concierge, hearing the raised voices, and seeing the crowd gathering, rushed over. "Sir, what seems to be the problem?"
"I just saw my wife with a strange man, check into this hotel. I want the god damned room number."
"That isn't going to happen sir. You may have seen what you thought you saw. However, we cannot help. Do you understand, that information is confidential."
Mark saw the concierge wave his arm, and two very well-dressed obviously security guards walked slowly towards the group. Mark, worried more than ever, snarled, "Okay, look, can you phone the room number that couple booked into and tell the lady that Mark Webster is waiting for her at reception? Can you at least do that?"
"Why don't you call her yourself?" The concierge said calmly.
"Because, she has her damned phone turned off, that's why."
The two security guards arrived, one standing either side of Mark. "Please, pal, I'm begging you, just call the room. If she doesn't come down, I'll leave."
He nodded towards the desk. "Call the room." He glanced at Mark, "What did you say your name is?"
"Tell her Mark Webster is here and wants to see her."
The male assistant reached for the phone and dialed the room. "Can I talk to?" He glanced at Mark, his eyes questioning.
"Liz Webster," Mark hissed as the guards hands curled around his lower arms.
"Liz Webster, please?" the man asked.
There was a pause before the man said, "Mrs. Webster, there is a man here at reception, claiming to be your husband, and he would like to talk with you."
There was a pause before he hung up the phone and said to Mark, "She will be right down."
The concierge asked, "Can we rely on you to behave calmly, or should I ask the security guards to escort you outside?"
"I will be calm. You can call off the dogs."
He nodded at the guards who moved only a few feet away.
Mark turned to the elevators, and within ten minutes, Liz appeared, looking very upset. "Mark, what are you doing here?"
"I was here for a business meeting. Imagine my surprise when I saw you checking in with another man. Would you care to explain?"
He watched on as she looked around the group, embarrassed, before saying, "I think we should find somewhere private to talk."
He nodded. "I agree."
She looked at him with a mixture of concern, and what the hell was that... anger? "There's a coffee shop up on the corner," she said quietly.
"Lead on," he muttered angrily. He followed her as she walked out onto the street. He followed, trying to contain the anger boiling away in his gut.
As they walked, his phone buzzed; it was Andrew. "Sorry, Andrew. I'm not going to make it. Can we reschedule?"
Putting his phone away, he turned it off. She led him into a coffee house, pointing to a table as far away from the few other customers as she could find. He nodded, muttering, "I'll get the coffee."
