My Loving Wife 4

I suppose I should have suspected sooner than I did, but they say that the spouse is always the last to know. I think that it is more the case that a spouse has some amount of trust in a person he or she knows well enough to marry. So, that makes it easy to be blindsided.

Sure, I am busy, but I did not notice any change in Lynn's normal routine. We all have routines you know, even if we do not think we do.

Lynn is pretty for a thirty-eight year old woman. She is five-foot two, and a hundred and five pounds soaking wet. She is a blue-eyed blond who keeps her hair in a kind of pageboy cut. She is a head turner! She is also a realtor, and makes a decent living at it. We have been married for ten years, and have a son and a daughter in elementary school.

We have always arranged our schedules to have one of us home when the kids, Adam (eight), and Jenny (six) come home from school. We decided early that we would not have "latchkey" children, who carry a key on a chain around their necks to let themselves into an empty house after school. Lynn is a doting mother, and is the one who helps the kids with their homework.

I am an aircraft mechanic, and can work whatever kinds of shifts fit with parental responsibilities. I am five-eleven, and am about one hundred seventy-five pounds. I get a lot of exercise and play baseball in a local beer league. The work is manual, and keeps me active since I am a shift chief.

I am not an aggressive person—more of "live and let live," but I let no one push me around—I stand up for myself and for my loved ones. As a formerly active Marine (no such thing as an ex-Marine), I know how to push back! You can call me Mike—most people do, although I like the way it sounds when Lynn calls me Michael.

I guess it's logical to think that someone still as young and pretty as Lynn might attract some male attention out in the world. And, probably also logical to think that she might flirt back sometimes. Some of my friends and co-workers have always told me how lucky I am to have Lynn, and just how interested they might be in her if she were single. I have always taken the complement, and have never worried about the risk.

Tonight is Saturday night, and Jan and Paul are over for dinner and drinks. They are good neighbors and good friends, with whom we seldom keep secrets. After dinner, Lynn and Jan are out on the deck, and Paul and I are sitting in the kitchen having a beer.

I notice that Lynn and Jan are engaged in a kind of serious but hushed discussion about something. I pointed the neck of my beer bottle in their direction, and asked Paul casually,

"What's up with that? The girls look like they are up to something. Any ideas what it is?"

Paul became immediately defensive and replied, "What do you mean? I-I'm sure it's nothing. Why? What are you saying Mike?"

"Damn, Paul. I'm just asking a simple question. Forget I asked."

Paul manages a nervous smile and said, "Hey, sorry man, just a little edgy these days, stuff at work you know."

With kind of a furrowed brow I answer, "Sure, no problem buddy."

We laugh it off, clink bottles, and continue a more normal conversation. But, my attention is occasionally drawn back to the girl's animated conversation, especially since Jan stole a knowing glance at me a time or two. Shit! I am letting my imagination run away with me. So, I get up and twist the caps off a couple more, one for Paul, and one for me. Bottled beer is much better tasting than that canned shit—my view of it.

I may be just a working man but I do have a college degree. I like working with my hands and fell into this when the local job market became a little short on demand for English majors. Ah well, what the hell! Life is good: pretty wife, two great kids, and no money worries—not really. Then my mind circles back to Lynn's and Jan's secret little confab—just something about it bothers me. But, I decide to forget it ... just for now.

The rest of the evening proceeds about like normal, we put on some music, I dance with Jan and Paul dances with Lynn we laugh joke, and the girls talk about their kids, school and just wifey kinds of shit. At the end of the evening, we part ways as we always do, with my making a friendly and innocent pass at Jan, and Paul doing the same with Lynn.

Lynn and I clean up, and get ready for bed. We do not exactly fuck like minks, but we have a nice and active sex life, and we get together more nights than not. Last night was a "not," so I am looking forward to a little nookie tonight. Lynn showers, and dresses in a T-shirt and panties—her normal nightly attire. Damn, she looks so hot!

By the time I slide into bed, Lynn is already there and curled up facing away from me. I spoon up behind her, and she says sweetly,

"Oh Michael, not tonight honey, I am bushed! Tomorrow night, I promise. Goodnight sweetheart!"

I do not answer her, but just turn over trying to get some sleep myself. Sleep is not coming. I lie awake trying to understand her mood tonight. Her conversation with Jan crossed my mind again. Gauging from Paul's strange reaction when I mentioned it, there must be something going on that I am not supposed to know about. It is not near enough to my birthday or anniversary for it to be a surprise party or anything like that.

I actually do fall asleep—eventually. When I wake up the next morning, I find Lynn curled up behind me with her arm around me. My movement awakens her, she kisses me on my neck, and she rises to get ready for her day. It is Sunday, but she has an open house today so she will be gone for most of the day. Sunday night goes about the same, with Lynn finding some excuse to be too "indisposed" for sex.

We just cuddle and kiss a little and she falls asleep with my arms around her. I manage to get a hand up into her t-shirt, and onto her pert little apple-sized tits. Damn, I really love feeling her up! Her behavior earlier tonight seems normal, except I do catch her talking quietly over the fence with Jan—a conversation that ends abruptly when I walk over. Jan gives me a nervous smile, turns and walks into her house.

Paul works where I do, it is Monday and this week he is on the same shift, but heads another crew. I meet him for lunch, and after some introductory bullshit, I become more direct with him.

"Y'know, Paul, I am getting the distinct impression that there is something you, Jan, and Lynn know that I do not. Or am I just being paranoid?"

"Don't ask me anything I can't answer, and anything you do not

want

to know, Mike. You know how it is with Jan."

Paul is henpecked. I always thought that Jan kept his balls in a Mason jar on her dresser. But, she does share with him everything she hears from her various friends, and threatens to deny him off sex if he tells anyone. So, I am not pushing it with him, to keep him out of trouble with Jan. Actually, he has already answered my question.

We finish our lunch and our conversation in a more normal manner. Just did not want to fuck up his sex life—any more than it already is.

I take a little time toward the end of shift, and call a private investigator to satisfy my curiosity. A "PI", I guess you might say. I give him enough information to keep an eye on Lynn for a while, just to see if my suspicions are correct. I vow to keep things as normal as possible with Lynn and the kids, until I have some answers.

What if I am wrong? The thought crosses my mind.

According to the PI, this process will take about a week or so, and I will get a full report, along with pictures—if there is anything requiring pictures. So, life will go on usual I guess.

Jan and Paul decide to go clubbing on the next Thursday night, and they ask Lynn and me to join them. It is great fun. I love music and dancing and am having a good time. We find a table near the dance floor, and Lynn and I dance to quite a few numbers in between drinks. She looks so sexy tonight in a tight short dress, and heels.

After a while, two nice-looking younger guys approach our table, and asking if we would allow Lynn and Jan to dance with them. Paul and I were just starting another beer, and resting a little, so fine—we let them dance with the girls.

The only strange thing was that their partners take them over to a rather dark part of the club. Since they are both together, I thinking it's nothing to worry about. Paul and I talk, mostly about work, whether he is ever going to get his Honda Gold Wing back together, and if he needs help with it—just that kind of stuff.

It looks like the girls are going to be gone for a couple of numbers with these guys. I did notice that Lynn, Jan and their partners have disappeared from the dance floor for some minutes, and assume it is to get some air, since the club is rather warm.

I didn't bother to check on them since I caught sight of Jake, my PI at a corner table, sucking on his seltzer water. I notice that he disappeared about the same time. I figure I will get the report later if there is anything to report. On a whim, I catch up with him in a back hallway, and ask him to add Jan to his surveillance.

"Gonna cost you extra, white boy!" he said.

"No problem. Just put them both on one report for me."

"It'll be another day or two with another subject. Give me until Wednesday or Thursday next week, and I will give you the whole report on both subjects, with photos, timelines, and complete summary of my findings."

"Okay." I answered.

This means that I have to wait nearly another week to find out my fate. I am either going to be fighting to see my kids, or embracing my loving wife with a clear heart. I rejoin the party, and Lynn and Jan have returned to the table in time for a last slow dance with their husbands.

Lynn was very warm and romantic, I danced her into the darkest part of the club, and slid my hand down over her little round ass, and she moans a little when I press my fingers into the crease between her butt cheeks, and rub her a little.

I squeeze her buttocks without being too obvious about it. It is obvious to her though, gauging from her reaction. My cock is getting hard dancing with her, and I make sure to press it into her. When I do, she squeezes in closer to me, lays her head on my chest, and draws her arms in closer, also presses them against my chest next to her head. She moans quietly, with a satisfied smile on her face. When she does that, I move my hands up a little, one on the small of her back and the other a little further up. She purrs like a contented kitten!

On the drive home, she is so turned on, as she takes my right hand and puts it on her inner thigh high up. I let my fingers explore her buttery-soft inner thighs, and she opens her legs a little to give me better access. As I move my hand up under her dress, I expect my little finger to touch her panties. Instead, I feel soft moist naked flesh. When I register some surprise, she smiles and coos,

"I took them off in the ladies ...a little present for my darling!"

I am speechless, and I do not want to spoil the moment by saying the wrong thing. I let my fingers explore her wet folds as she leans back and moans loudly. It was awkward, but I manage to get a finger up inside her, and then another. She is breathing in little huffs, and after a few more minutes, she stiffens, and shudders into a very nice little orgasm. She takes my fingers out of her pussy, and draws them across under her nose.

"Mmm, I smell sexy tonight!" Then she starts sucking her juices off my fingers as if they were a cherry Popsicle, and she continues,

"You are so getting laid tonight, big boy!"

I decide not to question where her arousal came from, and just go with the flow. This sexy behavior is nothing new for my unpredictably adventurous wife.

I pull into the driveway, open Lynn's door, and as she rose get out, I close the door behind her. I push her up against it, and kiss her passionately. My hand slides up the side of her legs, and raising her dress enough to expose her pussy to anyone going by. I jam my hand into her crotch, and she pushes herself into my hand as she mauls my lips noisily.

"Let's go inside, lover!" she says breathlessly.

We hurry to the front door, once inside without closing the door, I unzip her dress and she lets it slip from her body. I kiss her again standing in the open doorway; she is dressed only in stockings and heels.

Shit! It was then that I remember that we have a babysitter to deal with, or I might be fucking her right there in the doorway. A single light was on in the kitchen providing what little light there is downstairs, and Sally awakes on the couch when she hears us come in.

I reach for my wallet, pull out fifty bucks, and hand it to a very wide-eyed teenaged babysitter. My wife is not embarrassed being seen naked by Sally, and as she starts toward the stairs, she stops and brushes her tits against Sally's blouse as she reached over and gives her a kiss on the cheek. She smiles at the pretty but stunned eighteen-year-old girl and says,

"Thank you Sally honey, hope the kids were no problem."

"N-no, Mrs. Ah, um, they-they were f-fine. Goodnight Ma'am."

Sally lives at the end of our block, so I walk her to the sidewalk in front of her house, and wait until she is safely inside. When I return to the house, I find that Lynn is still in the open doorway with the streetlight shining on her naked body. When I approach, she turns and bends over at the waist to retrieve her dress giving me and anyone else, a view of her perfect little ass, and glistening pussy.

"Lynn, you are a bad, bad girl."

"Mmm! Yes I know, and I need to be spanked!" I swat her hard on the butt and answer,

"Upstairs then, Lynny!"

She registers her pleasant surprise at the hard smack with an "Ooo!" and a smile.

I scoop up her tiny frame in my arms, close the front door with my foot and carry my sexy bride up the stairs. The look in her liquid blue eyes is saying to me, "Fuck me tonight!" My cock is straining against the fabric of my slacks, and as I carry her upstairs, she took it into her head to reach down, unzip me and relieve the strain. cumstances. I throw her on the bed, and don't even bother with stockings (she lost her heels on the way up stairs), I just want her the way she is, with all of her sweat and womanly juices and aromas intact. I happen to like the taste of her skin ... natural ...musky.

The combined perfume of her sweat, body lotion, and natural female musk, make for a very heady and erotic cocktail. We had taken care of the foreplay in the car, outside of the car, in the doorway, and on the stairs so we are definitely ready for the main event.

We have to be careful not to wake the kids, but she grunts and flexes her hips to push up against my thrusts as I fuck her hard.

"Oh yes! Oh God! Oh Mi-Michael, fuck me baby. I want you inside me so hard!"

I grant her wish, and she shudders through two orgasms, one on top of the other, until I finally stiffen thrust into her hard and deep and release inside of my sweet wife's petite body. I grab her tiny buns, and pull her to me to keep myself in her as long as I can as she continues to shudder.

We lay in each other's arms, with our sweaty bodies slipping and sliding together, and trying to regain control of our breathing and heart rates. I just look down at this pretty, tiny woman with her florid face aglow, sporting a satisfied smile. I could not believe that she could ever be harboring some dark secret that might tear us apart.

I just could not!

After I soften enough to flop out of her, I roll over on my back, and she turns over, lying half across me, with one leg between mine. She falls asleep well fucked, leaking, and still in her disheveled stockings. The booze, dancing, and sex have taken their toll on my little lady. She curls her up on one side with her arm still across my chest with her sweaty, hard little tits pressed into my chest.

What is the reason for this sudden passion after a few nights of begging off sex with me? Did her handsome young dance partner and fellow fresh air enthusiast have anything to do with it?

Okay, now I

really am

being paranoid! I decide just to admire the little form curled up to me. Fast asleep, she looks angelic ... like a sweet teenager again. I lovingly brush the hair from her forehead and kiss her sweetly. Tonight is wonderful, but I am worried about how long it might last.

I am going to get a report from the PI in a few days or so, and it will say something ... but what? With Lynn so peacefully lying up against me, I get a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. I am thinking to myself,

"What the hell have you been up to, little girl?"

What are my options if I get bad news from the PI? I know that I will not be able to stay with a cheating wife ... not even one as lovely and compelling as Lynn.

God, I am so crazy about this little girl!

I love the feeling of her soft little hiney in my hands, and of her brushing her pert puffy nipples across my lips. I just cannot imagine anyone else plundering her amazingly tight little pussy. How can I even imagine another set of male hands on her tiny buttery soft little ass?

I am just hoping that all would be fine. Something deep in the pit of my stomach is telling me that I am in for a very unpleasant surprise, one that will force me to make a very ugly decision. I really do not want to dwell on this, but can't get it out of my mind.

I move Lynn off my body, and get up. I reach down and kiss her naked little ass, and pad into the bathroom for a sleeping pill. I am not a junkie, but Lynn has some pills, and I decide to take one to get some sleep.

The next day (Friday), everything is routine, but I am still thinking about the appointment next week with Jake. I am dreading that meeting. I fall asleep with Lynn.

It is now Saturday morning, I can sleep in, but have too much to do around the house, so I get up with Lynn, and make her breakfast. She has an associate sitting on the property she is showing, so we both have the day off, except for her just checking in with the property. She suggests a quick nine holes, so I decide to put my chores off until tomorrow.

She is upstairs after breakfast to shower and dress. After she enters the shower the water running, I decide to strip and join her. She turned around quickly when the door opens,

"Michael! What are you doing?"

Without answering, I push her up against the wall and kiss her hard. I soap up my hands, and run them down her back, and over her ass. I was going to make sure my little wifey was nice and clean. My hard and soaped-up cock slides easily between her legs.

"Michael! What are you ... um ... oh, god that feels so good." She says as my hands curl under her ass and fingers poke into her crotch. "Oh, Michael!" she continues as I slid a slippery finger around her little asshole. I continue with my attentions to her clit and pussy lips.

I turn her around facing the wall, soap up my hands, and reaching around her massage her breasts, paying a lot of attention to her puffy nipples. She was moaning loudly as my soap-lubricated hands explore her front from breasts to mound. She grabs the sprayer, and moves it over her body to rinse off.

She directs it right into my face and then my crotch as she giggles at being such a brat. After a short water fight, she runs out of the shower, and into a couple of warm fluffy bath towels. I continue with my shower, and follow her.

Our playful behavior was nothing new; we were always loving and playful with each other. She has a naughty side and the true heart of a little brat at times. With my towel around my waist, I take one of her towels, and dry her hair, as she strips the towel from her body and pats her skin dry. She spins around and kisses me.

"Thank you Michael darling! I'll get the kids up and you make us some breakfast please."