If you really hated Part One, don't read Part Two because Barbara doesn't get sweeter.
I woke up the next day feeling refreshed. I put on some clothes, went into the living room, retrieved the other half of my chastity device, removed the base which I had worn through the night, washed and dried them, put a towel on the vanity top, and laid them down to air dry. I hopped in the shower after shaving my face and brushing my teeth. I had just manscaped the day prior so my genitals were baby soft. Finished my shower, toweled dry, deodorant applied, there was no need for a comb as my scalp was as bald as my genitals.
I put on shorts and a t-shirt and went outside where I retrieved the newspaper. I brought in, gave it a cursory glance, put it back in order, and placed it on the table for Barbara to read while she enjoyed her hot tea. I had mixed feelings about the day ahead.
I put the coffee on, checked the backyard for trash, and started breaking down the card tables and folding chairs I had set up for dominoes. I put away the corn hole, horseshoes, and washers. Back inside I poured myself a cup of coffee. I figured Barbara wouldn't be up for another couple of hours as she liked to sleep in on Sundays.
I wondered if Brett had gotten lucky last night. His idea of lucky and mine were night and day apart. Last night had been awesome. I took my coffee and went outside to enjoy the fresh air. Perfect day for a baseball game. After the game, he'd take her back to his house for lovemaking, dinner, more lovemaking. She'd come home with a smile on her face, but she'd also be a bit withdrawn. I had learned to give her space. What she had with him wasn't just sex, but love. A deep, profound love. She invested a lot of time and energy in their relationship. He had been very slow to reciprocate the pursuit, but over the years he had shown remarkable improvement, He understood the phone rings both ways, cards, letters, gifts are meant to also be sent, just not received. He had grown a lot. He and I got along, but his relationship was with Barbara, not me. He never really discussed me with Barbara. He just concluded I accepted their relationship. It took him a long time to get comfortable having a girlfriend who was happily married to a man who accepted their relationship.
In their early years he wouldn't come to the house, He insisted they meet somewhere which was strange considering their relationship began as a friendship. It also told me he had always wanted something deeper than friendship with my wife. They met at work. He was upper management while she was middle management. She addressed him by mister or yes sir and no sir. He shook hands when he met people, male or female. She was nervous the first time they met because he had a reputation for being no nonsense.
His secretary summoned she and a few other mid level managers to his office. He shook each person's hand, but when he got to her he made eye contact with her longer than he did the others. He also held her hand a little longer than he did the others. She didn't look away, but stared back at him.
"He has the prettiest eyes. It wasn't love at first sight, but it was close. He and I connected."
He spoke. They listened. She thought he made more eye contact with her than the others. He was a good speaker. His suit was custom. He wore it like a model. He combed his hair back. He had a strong face. He was tan. She noticed his nails were trim and clean. He didn't have a ring on. He took off his jacket at some point. He was fit.
The meeting broke for lunch. They ate together as a group. He sat across from her. She said they constantly kept looking at each other before looking away. He looked at her hands.
"Don't take this wrong Joe, but when I saw him looking at my wedding and engagement ring I wish I hadn't worn them. All I could think of is he's going to keep his distance. I didn't even know if he thought about me in a romantic way, but I was already thinking about him that way."
That meeting led to more meetings and lunches and conversations. I didn't know it, but she was already setting into motion my metamorphosis from husband to cuckold. When she had a meeting with him she got a manicure and pedicure. She went to her stylist. She'd model dresses for me that evening because she didn't want to be seen in the same dress. I indulged her, laying on the bed as she went into her closet, In nothing but her bra and panties. She usually picked out the dress I liked most.
I knew these meetings were important as they involved upper management, but i had no idea she was dressing for him. The signs were all there, but I didn't pick up on them. She'd turn me down for sex in the days leading up to the meeting, but the day of the meeting and for several days after she was insatiable. I thought stress was behind the big swings in her libido. Too stressed before, relaxed after. I also noticed and tied it to stress how she sniped at me in the days leading up to the meeting. She found fault in everything I did, but then complained I needed to do more, and that after all these years together I should know what she wanted. I shouldn't have to ask. She complained her work was unbelievably busy and suggested quite sarcastically she wouldn't mind if I stepped up and did more. Like most men I thought I did plenty, most of it on the outside of the house, the yard and the cars. I washed dishes, even did some cleaning.
I asked her what she needed me to do.
"You get home way before I do. Start dinner. Do a load of wash. Iron some clothes."
I did as requested. She was happy to come to the smell of dinner cooking.
"The laundry? And the ironing?"
"Laundry is done. I separated everything like you asked, hung what you said couldn't go in the dryer. I'll do the ironing after we eat and I clean up the kitchen"
She hugged me. I hugged her back. She looked me in the eye and said, "I love you."
I could feel her breasts and crotch against my chest and groin. I felt a stirring in my loins. I sensed she felt more amorous because these little things I had done were a big deal to her.
She smiled and told me as she pressed her crotch against mine I was going to get lucky tonight.
I poured us each a glass of Chardonnay.
I asked, "Did your dress impress?"
"I think so. I just always want to look my best for those meetings. We know they're judging us."
"Sounds like you wouldn't mind being upper management."
"I've been there long enough. I really like my job. The people I work with are great. I'm..."
"Comfortable, but you're bored and not challenged. You're also intimidated by them. You should go for it."
"Do you really think I should?"
"I do. If you don't you'll always regret it."
"The hours will be longer. I'll have to travel."
"Travel first class. I can do more. I've peaked where I work and I have no interest in advancing. The job is easy because I've done it so long. I'm not a go getter like you which is why I needed someone like you all these years. Orders I respond to, hints not so much. Just tell me what you need."
She drained her glass of wine, not to give her courage, but to lower her boundaries.
She put the glass down. She stared at me. Her pupils dilated from the wine and her arousal.
She pulled up her skirt.
"What I need is for you to get on your knees and pleasure me."
I responded to her direct approach. On my knees, I began an oral assault on her panty covered sex. I got them soaking wet. The friction of my tongue against the material left my tongue raw. I finally peeled them to the side and began licking her flesh. Within minutes she climaxed. I wasn't aware of my erection, but I was very aware of the spasms preceding an ejaculation, followed by a rapid fire series of contractions.
We separated. She even offered to let me have intercourse.
I apologized and lowered my chin.
She looked down in disbelief.
"You haven't done that since we were dating."
There was already a noticeable wet spot on my slacks.
She touched it to be sure. I was already soft. That spot was fresh.
She later told me she was a bit disappointed, not because it was going to be a good fuck, the kind that made her eyes roll backwards, left her pussy sore for days, but satisfied for days, but because she needed penetration, to close her eyes and pretend it was him.
I imagined and heard more resignation and disappointment than she really felt, forgetting I had just given her a very nice orgasm.
She exhaled and said, "I guess we'd better eat."
She sat down. I prepared her plate, served her, then mine. She asked for a glass of tea, I got one for her. I felt like I needed to make it up to her, to not make her disappointed in me. I behaved more like a man trying to impress a date than a long married husband in what had been a marriage of near equals.
Her reaction was not what I expected. Instead of telling me she could get a second helping or another tea she encouraged me to wait on her.
We even joked about it because it was so out of character.
"Don't let this go to your head Miss Future Executive."
"It already has."
