Allison and I have had a good marriage for the past 25 years, well that is until the last few months. She has been getting home late from work lately, usually mumbling about having to work late again, due to someone else's screw-up and her boss handing her the paperwork and telling her "Fix it before you go home!" She's been sullen and hasn't been in the mood for sex since this started. It's always been something, too tired, a headache, upset stomach, anything so she doesn't have to have sex with me. That's not like her. Before that it was at least twice a week, often more. I was thinking back, and it's been only once during that time about 5 weeks ago but right in the middle of making love, she stopped and sort of left things hanging and that's not like her usually. Since then, nothing.
She has worked for Electra advertising / marketing agency for most of our married life. Me, I'm an automotive engineer, now working for Deltronix, an independent company that builds products to increase the power to today's cars and trucks. They've sent me to computer school three times now and I love it. We have our own dyno to test our products on rigs to make sure they work, not just build them and send them out. We live a good life, comfortable, but not extravagant. Our house and cars are paid for, we both have good retirement plans and decent IRAs, so life is good, though we do probably work too much, both of us.
I was tired of her attitude lately so after doing some snooping at her work, when she got home this evening, I pulled her into a deep kiss, took her purse and bag from her and headed her up the stairs to our large master bedroom ensuite, where a bubble bath awaited her. Next to the tub was an ice bucket with a bottle of her favorite sweet champagne, Saracco Moscato d'Asti 2018, It was sold at our Costco occasionally and after her first bottle, she liked it so I had bought all they had for her. Every time I see it, I buy them out. Anyway, Allison turned and pulled me to her lips and gave me a deep kiss and as she peeled off her clothes to let me view her body, the one that I loved so much, so I wolf whistled.
"Matthew Donald O'Connell, you know you will go to hell for lying!" she said as she turned to get into the tub. I lightly swatted her butt and she quickly hopped into the bubbles, almost going out of site beneath them, maybe I had over done it. Allison was pushing and blowing the bubbles away so she could at least have room for her face and when she had succeeded, she looked up at me, smiled and said, "Drink please, kind sir."
Handing her, her glass, I said, "Ali, how can you accuse me of lying? You are still a very sexy woman. You're trying to compare yourself to those young fashion models but, you are definitely a M.I.L.F. I've had several of my friends tell me how lucky I am to have such a sexy wife as you, not to mention quite a few after this year's New Year's Eve party when you wore that clingy, plunging, sexy, gold mini-dress to the company party. I didn't say anything that night, but it was very obvious to me and most of the men at the party that shortly after midnight, you came back from the ladies' room and were no longer wearing your bra or panties. I do know I was having a hell of a time getting to dance with you, and never any slow songs with you the rest of the night."
Ali was looking into her glass and not at me. I took a deep breath and asked, "When you feel up to it, I wish you would tell me what happened to make you take off your underwear off, but right now, I want to know what's going on with you these last few weeks. You tell me you've been working late." She started to say something, but I stopped her. "Like I was saying, you CLAIM to be working late but I check with HR, and you seldom work any overtime and the parking attendant said you leave the lot at the end of work almost every day. Now, I want to hear it from you. I want to know who he is, when it started, who started it, how long it's been going on, and is it going to continue?" I stood over her with this steeled glaze as she downed her glass and held it for a refill.
I didn't want to but as I started to refill her glass, Ali broke into tears. I took her glass from her and handed her a dry hand towel to wipe her tears away. I bent over and took her hand in mine and asked, "What's going on, sweetheart? You know I love you. You are my life. If there is something going on in your life, our marriage, your job, anything at all, you know I am here for you. I will do my very best to stand by you and love you no matter what. That I promise, even if turns out to be something that could or will hurt me."
Ali pulled my hand to her lips and kissed it as she smiled up at me with such a loving, beautiful smile, my heart was hers. I thought even if she was having an affair, that my love for her would get us through it if she would call it off or tell me it had been long ago or, fuck, so many things were going through my head right now I really didn't know what to think. Then, shaking her head, she said, "Honey, please let me finish my bath and I'll be down in a while, and I'll tell you everything."
That didn't do much to settle my nerves. In fact, my stomach growled so loudly, even my wife heard it though I put it off to being hungry. I went back downstairs to the kitchen to continue fixing the Moroccan ginger-chicken thighs with curried rice and sautéed vegetables I was making her for dinner. I knew this was one of her favorite dishes that I make. I cooked the marinated chicken thighs on the barbecue, then put them in a casserole dish, smother them with a sauce made from onions, tomatoes, celery, turnips, with a little coriander and rye seed added. I cover it with aluminum foil and bake for a half an hour at 400°, while I made the curried rice and sautéed the vegetables.
I had just plated our dinner and was about to carry the plates out to the dining room when Allison walked into the kitchen, wearing only a white diaphanous cover-up that she normally wore over her nightgown, 3" heels, and this, 'I want you' look in her eyes. The look that I hadn't seen in over a month now. She walked up to me, putting her hand behind my head, pulling me down to meet her lips, and gave me a deep kiss, thrusting her tongue in to dart around with mine. Her hand dropped and started to rub up and down my quickly hardening shaft as I stood there, a hot plate of food in each hand.
When she finally broke the kiss, I know I had leaked a bunch of precum in my pants, but she stepped back, looking at the plates and said, "Awe, honey, my favorite. It smells divine, then again, it always does." My sexy wife pulled a small piece of chicken from the bone, popping it in her mouth and made a sound almost like an orgasm then said, "Dammit Matt, this has to be eaten now. Oh hell, playtime can wait. What can I do to help?"
"The table is set but you could grab another bottle of your champagne out of the fridge," I said as I sat our plates down and lit the candles, I had placed by the large bouquet of flowers I had picked up on my way home. If she was having an affair, I was going to fight for her.
As she walked into our dining room, her eyes glistened. I loved her deep blue eyes and could get lost in them. Her blond hair was pulled back into a ponytail tonight and went down mid-back as it has for years. Vanity has kept the few gray hairs that have appeared away by going to her hairdresser's once a week, but I don't mind. Allison's carpet matches the drapes, as they say, though not too long ago, she cut it fairly short with just a landing strip above, instead of the bush she has had for years.
I'll admit, I was having trouble eating dinner, even though I will have to say it was delicious, even for me. It was because of that sheer gown Allison was wearing and her still youthful (to me) looking breasts. There is something to be said about a woman not having too big a set of breasts as they get older, they don't sag. Ali's were a 35B. They were bouncing as she ate, and when she reached for her wine glass, the gown would open, teasing me with a clear view of her tit for a second, though she would pull it closed as soon as she noticed me looking. When she saw me looking, she'd smile back at me. When we finished, I asked her if she would like dessert and she said, "No, but another glass of champagne would be nice." There was enough in the bottle to fill her glass but not mine, so I went to the kitchen and filled mine with Sprite and returned. I handed her, her glass, then took the dishes out to the kitchen, rinsed them off and put them in the dishwasher.