Madeline held her thumb on her phone. It unlocked and opened to her home screen. The voicemail icon indicated she had a message waiting.
She had heard the phone ringing earlier, distantly. She missed the call because at that moment she had just finished getting her brains fucked out by Eric, Shelly's tall, bald, and muscular hookup. Madeline had ignored the call, choosing instead to float in the blissful afterglow of her and Eric's fuck session.
Now, while sitting atop the hotel suite's private, in-room, full-sized bar, the voicemail indicator was a stark reminder of her earlier marital infidelity.
Of course, a more current reminder of her marital infidelity was Dave's head. He was sitting on the bar stool in front of her. Both of them were unabashedly naked.
Dave had lifted her legs over each of his shoulders. His face was nestled between her thighs, and his tongue was doing the most exquisite things to her pussy right now!
Madeline tapped her phone, and raised it to her ears. She listened to the voicemail halfheartedly.
Yep. It was Scott, her husband. He had an early morning meeting. He was heading to bed, but if she got home soon, feel free to wake him. Love you.
'Blah, blah, blah,' Madeline thought, weaving her fingers through Dave's hair. She pulled his face toward her and shivered at the feel of his tongue dancing around her clit.
"Oh God, that's it. Right there. Oh my God, right there."
Shelly was in the kitchenette off to her left. Madeline could see her plainly. The buxom blonde had one leg up on the countertop, the other planted firmly on the ground. Eric was fucking her from behind, fast and furious, while Shelly screamed in delirious pleasure.
"Hey, Bartender," Madeline purred. "Why don't you come up here? I'd like to request a special cocktail."
Madeline scooted backwards, then laid down on her back. Dave didn't hesitate. He crawled up atop the bar, and then he crawled up atop her.
*****
It was 3 o'clock in the morning when Shelly's convertible pulled into Madeline's driveway. Both women were worn, exhausted, and completely spent. Shelly laughed as Madeline got out of the car grunting, then laughed louder as she hobbled bowlegged to her front door.
"Shut-up!" Madeline cackled along with her, "You were limping on the way out of the hotel, too!"
"Love you, girl! Let's lounge by the pool tomorrow and recover!"
"Yassssss, Queeeeen!"
*****
The original plan, at the start of tonight's adventures, was to go out with Shelly, have a few drinks, dance with a couple guys, and then come home and be ravished by her husband.
Of course, at this hour, it was much too late to wake him. Madeline didn't think she'd have the strength to do him proper, anyway. And there would be questions: Why she was home so late and where had she been all this time?
She had at least showered at the hotel -- she and Shelly both had. Together, of course. They cleansed the smell of perspiration and sex from their bodies, and then they made out with each other under the cascade of steaming hot water.
The shower had been Shelly's idea. "You know -- just in case either of our husbands are awake when we get home." The girl seemed to know how to prepare for every contingency.
Madeline went upstairs, stripped out of her clothing, and crawled into bed. She didn't cuddle or even touch her husband. She was asleep before her head hit the pillow.
*****
Madeline's bedside alarm went off for the third time, and she slapped the snooze button again.
'So tired,' she thought, through her hazy and muddled brain.
"Mom!" Tommy exclaimed, bursting into her bedroom. "It's a school day. Aren't you going to make me breakfast?"
"Wha-- Huh? Oh, sure baby, I'll be right down. Get all your things packed. Mommy overslept."
Madeline was a stay at home mom. Scott brought in good enough money that they could afford to let her not work. When Thomas was born, they had agreed that she'd stay home, at least until their son was old enough to be left home alone after school. He was nearing that age now, probably past it. Scott hadn't yet raised the topic of her going back to work, and she certainly wasn't about to. She rather enjoyed being a SAHM, especially since Shelly had moved into the neighborhood.
Normally she made it up to both Scott and Thomas, by being a model housewife: hot, nutritious breakfast in the morning, bag lunches made while they ate, house always kept immaculate, lots of after school activities for Thomas, and always a delicious family dinner ready when Scott got home. And, of course, for Hubby, she further made her appreciation known by keeping things active in the bedroom.
Madeline knew from reading women's magazines that an active sex life after twelve years of marriage, especially after having children, was uncommon. Women her age were always writing in for advice on how to bring back the romance.
That had never been a problem for her and Scott. At least, not until a week and a half ago. It had been 10 days since she and Scott last had sex. Yes, she was counting.
"Mooooooooom!" Thomas called impatiently from downstairs.
Madeline sighed and rolled out of bed. She tossed on a bathrobe, and didn't even bother looking at her reflection in the vanity mirror. She didn't need to -- she knew she looked like hell.
Before going downstairs, Madeline peeked in to her son's room, as was her morning habit. The room was a little messy, mostly just clothes strewn on the floor -- certainly it had been worse.
She started picking his clothes up, and putting them in the hamper. As she picked up a sweatshirt, something fell out of it, hitting the floor with a thwap!
It was colorful and glossy. A magazine.
She reached down to pick it up, turning it over to see the front cover: Playboy.
"Honestly," she said, flipping through the pages, "Where does he keep getting these things?"
The models were impossibly beautiful, she thought, and then considered her friend Shelly. Shelly could be a model. Shelly could be a Playboy model. Aside from her stunning good looks, she already had the 'artificial enhancements' that so many of these gals did. Not for the first time that week, Madeline wondered if Scott might consider buying her some fake boobs. She didn't necessarily want larger, just firmer.
Madeline sighed, putting the magazine down while she quickly made her son's bed. She then scooped it up, and brought it back to her bedroom.
She would talk to Scott about it tonight. She had a good idea that it was he who had given their son the last two magazines she had confiscated.
Madeline then went downstairs, to the kitchen. Thomas was already sitting at the kitchen table, waiting for his breakfast. She pulled out the frying pan, a package of shredded cheese, and a carton of eggs.
"Scrambled with cheese?" she asked.
"Yes, please. Can you crunch up some Cheez-Its in my eggs like last time, too?" Thomas requested.
"Sure, honey." Madeline stifled a yawn.
