We stood outside the bar, she was looking through the window scanning the crowd, and I was staring out towards the street at a parking meter. Focusing on an object always helped me remember things better.
"Black skirt, white top." She said to me.
"Yes, not sleeveless." I stared harder, remembering, "short sleeves with a button on the cuff." it sounded strange as I said it, but I was never a fashionista.
"I don't see her" She said. "There are a couple of women wearing... Oh wait, red hair, right?"
"Yes."
She stared, and stared."Wow, she's amazing." She finally offered.
I smiled. "I know."
She redirected her stare at me, she stepped close. "You're sure about this?"
"Yes."
She said slowly and deliberately as though she was reading a contract, "You want me to go into that bar... and try to seduce... your wife."
Hearing her say it made me smile. "Yes." I said.
Without warning she grabbed me and pulled me to her. She was tall, I barely had to tilt my head down to her. She kissed me hard, hungrily, passionately. I responded, and she kissed harder. I felt as though her kiss was a kind of lie detector, probing me for weakness in my resolve.
There was none.
My body responded and I attempted to wrap my arms around her. The thought of kissing my mistress with my wife so near was an amazing turn on.
As soon as my hands cupped her perfect ass cheeks she broke the kiss and stepped back from me. A wicked smile darkened her normally 'girl next door' looks.
"OK then." she said, and disappeared into the bar.
I walked home slowly, considering what I had set in motion. As far as I could tell there were three possible outcomes. One: my wife could turn her down flat. I don't know that she had ever been unfaithful, and frankly I didn't know if she had ever been with another woman. It was a suspicion I had always had, fueled by veiled comments about college life. Two: my wife could entertain her advances and never tell me. Of course I'd find out from my mistress (her name is 'Gwen' which is a name I loathe so I use it as little as possible.) This outcome would be ok by me; I would love to hear about their liaison from my mistress. It would also have the effect of inoculating me from any persecution if my affair was ever discovered. Three: My wife could delight in the affections of my lover, so much so, that she would eventually bring her home to our bed, to share with me. I realize this was a long shot, but it was a fantasy that had been crystallizing in my head (and in my loins) for years. When I had first described it to my lover (thinking out loud about my fantasy is a better description) she immediately volunteered with surprising enthusiasm.
I found myself walking along the piers, taking the long way home. I figured, if my wife was home before I was, then outcome number one had certainly been realized.
I stopped for a drink, and watched the young men (younger than me anyway), trying desperately to find a hook up. Their lust, like acne, was all too visible on their faces. The women (many of them older) played with these boys, pretending they weren't interested, but secretly looking for a way to connect without appearing whorish to their friends.
It got later and I wandered home. The lights were not on. That was a very good sign. I went in, stripped down, and climbed into a hot shower. My cock half erect responded to the spray. Hot and hard the streams from the shower head had me erect. I felt myself, stroking my cock, feeling the weight and shape change as the water and my fantasy excited my reproductive organs. I stroked myself and edged for a few minutes, enjoying the tipping point, but I didn't cum.
I finished my shower, dried off, and climbed into bed.
I was drifting off to sleep when I heard the door close loudly. I looked at the clock 2:30 a.m. That was way later than my wife ever stayed out. Lately she kept a fairly strict ten p.m. bedtime. I watched as she entered the bedroom. She walked with the, heavy measured tiptoe, of a drunk and went quickly into the bathroom.
This was looking good I thought as the shower turned on. I had made that same guilty sprint on several occasions.
I wanted to txt my lover badly, but we had strict rules about contact, and this was definitely out of bounds. I'd have to wait until we next met.
The sound of the shower had almost lulled me to sleep and I jerked awake when it stopped. I rolled away from my wife's side of the bed and pretended to sleep. I wanted to make it as easy for her as possible to slip in beside me.
I heard her towel drop and felt the bed sway gently as she climbed in. I thought 'until tomorrow my dear.'
That was precisely when I felt her spoon up behind me, her body nude and still damp. This was a surprise bordering on shock.
Her arm ran over my shoulder and down my side. "Sorry, did I wake you?" she said pronouncing each word carefully.
"hmmm no," I said "How was it?"
