Cathleen Encouraged

This is the continuation of the story Cathleen Encouraged. To fully understand the background leading into this installment I suggest reading Part 1 first.

*

Cathleen awoke early the next morning. I didn't sleep all night in anticipation.

She went straight from our bedroom to the bath. While she showered I made breakfast for us. Cathy exited the bathroom wearing a silk bathrobe, sitting at the kitchen table and sipped her coffee without saying much as I ate. She didn't touch the food, and was reserved. I did find myself checking her body out more than I had in some time. She let her calves slip out, and her robe part to the knee where her hand held it closed. The top of the robe was open, and I felt like a voyeur drawn to my own wives' breasts! It was incredibly strange to experience. Here I was lusting after my wife, knowing that I hadn't been in such heat for her in years. As hot as the scene was making me I didn't want to spoil our decision. I realized right away that this was, in part, what I needed in the relationship - to want her yet not automatically have her. The knowledge that I would need to work for her affections if this happened turned me on.

She went our early to shop, just as she said the night before. It could only be taken as an affirmation that she wasn't kidding; she had a date planned tonight.

I won't deny that as much as this fact turned me on it terrified my heart! Such a dichotomy! What I always felt I needed unseated me so thoroughly! I decided to go out and chip golf balls. Not because I thought my shot would be on par, it wouldn't. I just couldn't think of anything else to do to stop myself from thinking about the situation any more. So I left a note, telling her that I would be home for dinner at 7 and went out.

My day slunk along like a snake on a cold day, which is to say that it was strangely calm and uneventful. I hadn't felt like this since the afternoon of the senior prom. All anticipation and nothing to abate the overwhelming sense of the night to come was the order of the day. All day with nothing to do, knowing it wouldn't take more than an hour to get ready. I chipped 4 buckets of balls before lunchtime. I ended up driving an hour away to a multiplex and watching movies all afternoon just to keep myself occupied.

I got home at 7, like I promised, and saw Cathy's car parked in the driveway. I called for her upon entering the house, without response. When I reached the kitchen I found that my wife had added to my note. It was still on the table, and she had written:

"I have other plans for dinner, honey. I'll be home late, but I want you to wait up. Don't forget your promises. Love, Cathy"

I have to admit that I never wanted to touch my cock so badly. I knew it would be hard to keep my promise when she went out. But knowing that she was on a date had my writhing erotic for her. She was my total obsession. The thoughts were endless, and flashed by like watching a merry go round. Obviously they went to dinner, but what style restaurant? Were was their date going to go from there? I tried to picture it so many ways I was dizzy. Suddenly I could think of dozens of places to go and things to do with my wife that I was at a complete loss for eons to come up with.

Then there was Cathy. What was her outfit like? How did she do her hair? Perfume? How did she feel? Was she excited to be on a date with him, or a date without me in general?

Then there was my natural curiosity of her date. Was he charming in her eyes? What was he built like? Tall? Other than me, what was my wife's "type"? That one was more than a little disconcerting. I had never put a face on another man that I would share her with, other than being turned on at the thought of a black cock sliding in and out of her precious pink folds. Curiosity of "him" had me in a spin, that's for sure! Sitting watching TV didn't take away the knowledge that I hadn't thought "him" through, and it was a blaring reality in my gut.

I was comforted by two thoughts.

The first was that it HAD to be this way to begin our adventures. She had to decide to take the initiative and set this date WITHOUT my interference. She needed to be comfortable with this enough on her own terms, since this originated with my fantasy, to take my hand and walk through this door with me.

The second thought was the knowledge that if I had chosen the man it would have ruined the whole thing, because the reality for her would have been that I had been in control and not her - thus the obvious tint of fact that she wasn't ready and that it was just for me.

Knowing these things and being able to sit the night out without obsessing are two different things. I tried my best not to obsess, but it was useless.

I wondered what my wife would "do" on her date. I didn't have a yardstick, since so many years had passed since we exchanged vows. What she "did" on a first date than and now were not automatically the same things. Then I was struck again that this was a completely different relationship anyway, and my experiences with her didn't matter in the way they decided to let their date reveal itself.

That was another revelation I let sink into me as I thought - that I was currently separate from her. She was a grown woman on a date with a man, and I had no right to even mentally chaperone the event. As hard as it was to deal with from the perspective of our marriage, she had to decide FIRST if this other man might make a good fit for us. I felt like that was the only proper way, that she would find a lover she was comfortable with then introduce me into the relationship they had developed.

I won't say that I wasn't turned on by the situation. I was. But the lack of knowing what my wife was up to had a grip on me beyond the erotic.

I had until the wee hours to let this fish flap itself around the inside of my skull. When the car that they were driving arrived, I knew it was them. I didn't peak, but it seemed like an eternity that they bade each other good night.

When she breezed into the living room, she was clearly still enchanted by her evening. She took my hand and led me to our bed. We made love stronger than in years, while I detected the faint smell and taste of another man as I kissed her shoulders . . .