Day 6, Friday. Would it happen?
Heather was sound asleep when I awoke. I was running late as usual; so I kissed her on the forehead -- she smiled, eyes still shut -- then I left.
But I also left a note and $50: "Tom today, honey. I'm begging you. I'll give you $100. My down payment is enclosed."
The donuts and pastries at the class didn't work to satisfy the hunger I was feeling -- it was a different appetite that needed satisfaction this day.
I couldn't concentrate at all; there was nothing that would hold my interest.
Jeannie noticed and lean over and whispered in my ear, "Larry you're not paying any attention today! I gave you a warning yesterday and now you will have to suffer the consequences." Then she reached down between my legs and gripped my balls like a vise and said, "You will return to me tomorrow afternoon and we will have our own tutoring session. You've been a very naughty little boy and now you must be punished. DO YOU understand me little boy?"
Her hand worked to emphasize her commands as she spoke; causing me considerable pain and pleasure at the same time. My mind was very confused as I croaked, "Yes ma'am."
"That's better, now why don't you run along and take care of whatever has your attention and I'll see you tomorrow."
I went back to the hotel. Maybe I can surprise Heather or maybe Heather would surprise me. First I needed to check the courtyard.
"Pervert" I called myself, but I went anyhow.
The courtyard was brightly lit, the coffee shop off the lobby wasn't. I knew that the contrast would mean the view from inside would be clear, the view from the outside in, impossible.
It was just as Heather had said had happened on earlier days. She was sipping a drink while talking to a guy. The same guy I saw last night. That must be Tom.
Tom was in suit and tie, Heather in a pretty print sundress; looking fresh; looking tasty. Looking very sexy! Her breasts were displayed almost to her areola. In fact, Tom could probably see the edges peeking out from time to time as she acted the part of the giddy school girl.
Their drinks were refilled, and now he had reached across the table, holding her hand just as naturally as if he had been doing that with her all of her life.
Their conversation was growing more animated, there were more smiles, more body language about -- something. Flirtation, maybe.
Tom pulled his chair closer to Heather and gazed soulfully into her eyes. He ran his hand over her cheek.
Heather reached up and took his hand in hers as he gently stroked Heather's face.
He thought he had her on the line and was slowly reeling her in. Actually, Heather had her prey in sight and it was only a matter of time until...
Briefly, I had a spell of jealousy. What kind of man would let his wife carry on this way? I knew I should walk in and interrupt and stop them. But I also knew deep down I wanted this. I had dreamed of this. I had seen Heather in this exact situation. I wanted to share my Heather, my love, my wife with this man; with other men.
I had visualized this many times as I had looked at and read porn on the internet; Heather with another man and now I was watching it for real and seeing yet another of my fantasies become reality.
Reaching behind her head, he drew her face to his until they met in a kiss. Then another and another, each kiss becoming more passionate than the last.
Tom's hand slipped between her legs and then moved up her thigh. Heather jumped at his first contact but offered no resistance as Tom's hand moved higher up her leg.
Tom's hand penetrated deeper between Heather's legs as they continued kissing. Tom suddenly stopped kissing Heather and had a pleasantly surprised look on his face. Obviously he had discovered that Heather was not wearing panties.
Tom withdrew his hand from between Heather's legs and raised it to his nose. He sniffed his finger like the cork from a bottle of fine wine, savoring the magnificent aroma of my wife's love juices.
Then, Tom finished his drink, wrote something on the check. Standing; he walked behind her and rubbed her shoulders; then leaned down to nibble on her ear and neck. Whispered something. His hands moved down her bare shoulders almost to her breasts.
Heather looked up at him and smiled.
He waited.
Was this it? Were they off to town, to the beach, or, or, or elsewhere?
Heather took a last sip of her drink too and carefully set the glass down.
Looked up at him.
He extended his hand, she took it.
Stood.
They spent a moment standing there, looking at each other, then Heather -- My Heather! -- led the way from the patio to the lobby, to the elevators!
There was no turning back now. I had lost my only chance to stop what was going to happen.
I saw the doors close behind them then walked out to the courtyard, glanced at the check -- Thomas-something, I couldn't read the scrawl, but could see the room number, 1195.
Next to the top floor, and that had to be on the other wing of the hotel. The hotel was set up in a shallow vee opening to the southwest. Our wing had suite numbers up to about 50 -- our room was 1247, near the outer end of our vee.
Maybe, just maybe. . .
I got to our suite, stepped out onto the shallow balcony. Our side was in partial shadow, the other wing, his wing, was fully lit.
I began studying the opposite side through the binoculars I had brought for sightseeing. The binoculars had enough magnification so that I could see the wiggle caused by every one of my heartbeats, with enough light gathering power so I could see well into the shadows.
I scanned the other side, looking, hoping, it was mid afternoon, the hotel was mostly empty, and nearly every room had its draperies open.
There!
Nearly all the way out, at the far end of the vee -- someone was opening the sliding door.
I moved back into our bedroom, deep in shadow -- invisible to anyone on the other side.
The door opened, then nothing. Nothing happened for minutes.
Movement!
It was Heather, stepping out onto the balcony, and after her, Tom. They had glasses in their hands. Room service -- Champaign, I was sure, from the shape of the glasses, and yes, the fluid was clear, I could see that. Champaign.
