Text Trouble

It was a chance comment that started me thinking, just one of those random statements during a conversation that can trigger a thought process where one thought leads to another, then another and so on.

I'd just mentioned to a colleague that my twenty-fifth wedding anniversary was coming up, Silver anniversary as it goes, and in all those years I'd never strayed from the path of marital fidelity.

'Yeah,' my colleague joked, 'but what about your wife!'

Ok, it was a joke, in poor taste if you ask me, but a joke nonetheless. The conversation moved on and the comment was forgotten. Forgotten until I arrived home later that evening and my wife's car wasn't in the drive where it usually sat. Now, that in itself was no big deal, she could be in any one of half a dozen locations, all of which were entirely innocent, but...

As I went about my usual evening routine I thought about how I could surprise my wife on our anniversary, but then I remembered my friend's joke earlier that day – What about my wife? Had she ever been unfaithful? Where was she now?

I had no real reason to suspect that Abigail had ever been untrue, no reason at all, but the tiny seed of doubt had been planted.

Abigail breezed into the kitchen in her usual style about an hour later.

'Hi, baby,' she said brightly and kissed me on the cheek. 'Good day?'

'Yep,' I replied and took a moment to study my wife as she moved briskly around the kitchen.

I hadn't really 'looked' at her for a long time. Physically she was still the same curvy, full-breasted girl I'd lusted after when we were both nineteen. Ok, she was a little bigger around the hips and bust, and maybe her tummy wasn't as flat as it has been when we'd first met, but likewise, I was no longer a 32 inch waist, with the same laws applying to my body as Abigail's. Abigail's fresh faced prettiness had developed into what I thought was a striking beauty and she'd actually grown more attractive as the years had passed. Maturity gave her a certain indefinable quality. A woman either had it, or she didn't... and my wife simply oozed confident sexuality.

Abigail definitely had the attributes that would lead men to attempt to begin an affair with her; I knew that even if I was her husband. I didn't think Abigail would be tempted to look elsewhere for sexual gratification, things had never been lacking in that department, but I just couldn't shake that nagging "yeah, but" notion.

As I absently considered the situation a sudden rush of affection for Abigail overcame me and I took hold of her around the waist and kissed her mouth quickly.

'Wow,' she responded with a laugh. 'What was that for?'

Her question struck a chord within me. Had it been a long time since I'd shown her any affection? I decided to remedy that situation right there and then.

'Because I love you,' I retorted, 'and because I think you're still a damn sexy wench.'

I accompanied the comment by reaching around Abigail and pulling her into me. I kissed her mouth again, but this time kept up the pressure and even pushed my tongue into her mouth. Our kiss lasted for a long moment and then continued as she moaned quietly in appreciation. I ran my hands down Abigail's back to knead her lovely, pliant buttocks. She wriggled a little from side to side, a sure sign that she was becoming aroused and my penis thickened quickly at the realisation.

'That was nice,' my wife whispered and smiled as the kiss momentarily broke. 'And what do we have going on down here,' she continued and pressed that open palm of her hand against my bulging trouser front as we kissed again.

Abigail deftly unzipped my flies and fished my now stiff cock out from where it had been confined. My erection jutted between our bodies as we kissed with increasing ardour. I had to stop kissing Abigail as I sucked in a great gasp of air when she surprised me by taking a tight grip on my cock at its base.

'Wow,' Abigail commented, 'what's got you so stiff?'

'Just the usual,' I replied, my voice husky with my sudden arousal. 'Just the thought of your lovely, big tits swinging as I fuck you.'

Abigail laughed throatily, a sound that somehow managed to turn me on even more. 'Well,' she said and stepped back a pace, 'let's see if you can get them swinging.'

She pulled the cotton blouse she was wearing out of the waistband of her skirt and began to unbutton it. She smiled deviously, as though she was harbouring some kind of secret and her eyes narrowed to feline slits as she watched my reaction to her impromptu strip show. That look was one I knew well. It meant that Abigail was feeling horny, particularly so, and I was taken aback by how quickly she'd become so randy.

Abigail shrugged the blouse over her white skinned shoulders and let it fall to the floor behind her. She unzipped her skirt and wriggled her hips to move the garment down over her slim, elegant, shapely legs. She pulled her underwear down swiftly as well and then posed with her hands on her wide hips, taunting me in a way she knew would send me insane with wanting her.

'Do you want to see my lovely, big tits,' she teased and cupped her still bra covered jugs in her palms.

'Yes please,' I croaked, 'please show me.'

Abigail laughed again and unclasped her bra. Her fantastic tits swayed heavily as my wife allowed me to gaze on their symmetrical beauty. The sight of her almost naked caused a burst of lust to tighten my belly and I groaned out loud, growing desperate to fuck my divine wife as I looked at her, transfixed.

The combination of Abigail's high-heeled shoes, along with the stockings and suspenders she'd purposefully left on mesmerized me, just as the calculating bitch new they would. She knew I had a penchant for the lingerie and that I loved her in her shoes and stockings.

'Now that I've shown you my beauties,' Abigail whispered, 'I think you should give me a little treat.'

She turned and, with hips swaying provocatively, strode from the room as her high heels clicked on the floor tiles. I'd always associated the sound of clicking heels on a hard floor with sex, ever since Abigail had teased and tormented me one evening early on in our courtship all those years ago. She had tied me to a chair in the old kitchen in her parents' cottage and had spent the entire evening posing and strutting around in front of me dressed almost exactly as she was now. She'd exacerbated the torture by using first her fingers and then a large girthed candle on her increasingly sodden sex. By the time she'd untied me I was as randy as a dog with two cocks and I'd cum hugely inside her after a frantic, short-lived, but very hot fuck.

Abigail paused by the kitchen door and looked back over her smooth shoulder and smiled. 'Come on, lover boy,' she breathed vampishly, then added crudely, 'Come and lick my hot kitty, make it piss cum.'

Damn Abigail knew just how to get me going. Her dirty talk never failed and I hurried after my wife's receding figure as she headed upstairs.

I didn't have to go very far though, since Abigail stopped at the top step, sat down and opened her stocking clad legs. I knelt on one of the lower steps and pushed my face against her plump, sparsely haired vulva. Instantly I slid my tongue along the cleft of her sex and felt her lovely labia peel apart reluctantly, sticky with Abigail's arousal.

I lapped at Abigail's clitoris and heard her gasp of pleasure. At the same time as I slurped at Abigail's large clit I probed at her opening with my finger. I slid my digit into my wife's gooey sex and massaged the spot inside her that I knew would send her into orbit.

Sure enough Abigail began to pant quickly in time with my probing and I knew she would come within a matter of minutes.

'Oh yes, baby, that's it, that's the spot,' She whispered as she warmed up. 'Lick my clit, finger my cunt.'

Abigail's voice was high pitched with her desire and I felt her juice dribble from her opening around my fingers. I tasted the syrup that slid from my wife's body and I listened to her heightened excitement as she sighed and urged me on.

Abigail squealed out as her climax poured through her body. As she came loudly she pulled me up so that my face was close to hers and then kissed me. Our tongues danced as she licked her juice from my tongue and then my chin and cheeks. Her climax tapered off and my wife sat on the top stair and panted heavily as she tried to catch her breath.

I grinned at her as I watched her big breasts jiggling sexily as her chest heaved up and down.

'You liked that, huh?'

'Mmm,' Abigail responded, her face and chest flushed a rosy colour from her exertion. 'Lovely,' she continued and then lifted herself from the carpet. 'Come with me.'

I followed my wife into our bedroom. My cock was still huge and jutted from my trousers since I was still fully dressed. Abigail sat on the bed and took hold of my shaft before she dipped her head forward and took the big head of my cock between her lips.

'Shit,' I groaned as Abigail slurped and slobbered over my cock. She sucked at me eagerly and wanked my cock at its root at the same time.

She scooped my balls out of the confines of my trousers as well and rolled them in her fingers, sounds of appreciation coming from the back of her throat.

Abigail let my cock bounce from between her lips and I looked down at her smeared lipstick while she grinned up at me.

'Time for a tit fuck I think,' she smiled and squeezed her pliable tits around my cock.

I jerked my hips so that my cock was buried in the deep cleavage of Abigail's breasts. My precum left a wet trail of clear goo along the track of my thrusting cock all over Abigail's pure, white skin as I fucked between those big tits. The squelching of my cock as it popped into view with each upward thrust was obscene, but hugely exciting and I soon felt my semen threaten.

'That's it!' Abigail cried as I began to grunt. 'Fuck my tits, come on my tits.'

She was trying to flick her tongue over the head of my cock as it appeared with each thrust and her voice sounded almost as excited as I was feeling.

I groaned and moaned as my spunk splashed out onto the delicious ivory slopes of my wife's breasts. A think rope of cum dangled from her chin as she watched my ejaculation intently. The cum hung tenaciously to Abigail's face and swung wildly as she moved her head. More goo spattered across her cheek as it jetted from my cock until finally the thick, violent eruption died off.

'Fuck, Jimmy,' said Abigail. 'You covered me in it.'

She smeared my spunk into her lovely, big jugs and scooped some of the stuff into her mouth from where it clung wetly to her chin and cheeks. Then she kissed me and I tasted myself on my wife's tongue, not in the least bothered by the thought of eating my own cum as we kissed.

'Well, baby,' smiled Abigail. 'I'm a fucking mess now, but it was a lovely surprise.' Then she stood up and exaggeratedly swayed her hips to tease me as she headed for the en-suite.

The Phone

In spite of there being no sign at all of infidelity on Abigail's part, that nagging suspicion wouldn't go away and after an age of deliberation I decided to put her to the test.

Let sleeping dogs lie, they say. Wise words, but I just couldn't let it lie and I embarked on my crazy plan anyway.

What did I do? Well, it was simple, looking back it was fucking ludicrous – doomed to failure; well, you would've thought so. The trouble was it all went so well.

I bought a pay as you go sim card for my mobile phone, one with a number that Abigail wouldn't recognise. Then I sent her a text message; one that appeared to have been sent to the wrong number, but one that was crudely worded so as to get Abigail's attention.

Simple?

If she replied innocently, telling the sender that he had the wrong number – then no problem. If she failed to respond at all – well absolutely no problem. Then there was scenario number three; if she responded...

The question there was how far would my darling wife go?

'Hi baby, big and hard and waiting for you.' Would that grab Abigail's eye?

I sent the message ...and waited.

A day passed ...nothing, so far so good.

Another day followed and then two more. I was feeling decidedly foolish and more than a little ashamed that I'd doubted Abigail. Then, when I turned the phone on a full five days after I'd sent the original text, the phone buzzed and vibrated – A message!

There could only be one person who could've sent the text for only one person had ever received the number – Abigail.

The small envelope icon blinked accusingly upon the screen, taunting me, daring me to open it and read the contents. Even then I had the power to stop, to go no further, but the power had deserted me so I opened the message and read the lines my wife had written.

'Interesting text, but wrong number. Let me know if she doesn't get back to you. Abi xxx' Ok, she'd flirted, it didn't mean much, I could even see her doing it and laughing. She'd probably tell me about it later. But if that was going to happen, why hadn't she shown me the message in the interval between the sending and now?

I wrote back. 'Oops, sorry Abi. I'm embarrassed now! Mick. xx PS, she didn't... are you busy?'

Her response was almost instant.

'Not busy. Are you?'

And it followed from there. 'Mick' and Abi ascertained that, miraculously, they were in quite close proximity geographically - Strange that, isn't it? – And the flirting got more and more daring with every subsequent message that was passed.

This went on for a week or so and I was amazed at my reactions and emotions. I went through peaks and troughs. One minute in the depths of despair over my wife's apparent ease at infidelity. I mean how many men had she had over the course of twenty-five years? Then I recognised that part of me was actually mildly aroused by the flirtatious 'Abi'. She was fun, daring and crude even... and I felt a twitch of desire every time the phone buzzed a new message.

This could have gone on forever with no resolution to my problem at all. The to-ing and fro-ing of these texts was ludicrous and proved nothing. I would have to act... and so the second, insane, part of the plan was born.

I would have to arrange for Abi to meet Mick.

Now, obviously, I couldn't put in an appearance as Mick myself, so I hired an actor.

He was a handsome enough guy, well groomed, physically appealing and at thirty-two years of age he was neither too old, nor too young for a woman of Abigail's fine vintage – he was perfect in fact.

I watched my wife prepare for her clandestine meeting with 'Mick'. She was going out, she said, to meet her friends for a celebratory drink for some fictitious reason. I was amazed at how cool she was. It was as if butter wouldn't melt and I felt the now familiar conflicting, yet paradoxically tuned feelings of jealousy and lust.

Part of me wanted to tell the deceitful bitch that I knew what she was up to, but it was like the devil and the angel on opposing shoulders, with one whispering and cajoling and the other offering moral support. Part of me actually wanted Abigail to come home later with the stain of deceit oozing from between her legs and with the ache of another man's penis bruising her opening.

'Bye, Jimmy,' Abigail kissed my cheek and was gone.

My guts coiled and I tasted the corrosive, copper tang of jealousy at the back of my throat. She was out there now on her way to her potential lover. I had no means of knowing what would happen. I couldn't call Abigail, not without a sound reason and 'Mick' now had the 'dirty' phone that I'd used to set up the whole affair.

Abi strays

The man smiled when he saw the mature woman in the red dress stride confidently into the restaurant.

'Wow,' he thought, 'she's quite a sexy looking lady. This makes more sense now.' He stood up as the lady approached and gave her his best 'audition' smile. 'Hi, you must be Abi?' he said out loud.

'And you must be Mick,' she teased in reply and took the man's proffered hand in hers briefly.

'In the flesh,' the man known as Mick laughed and then brushed Abigail's cheek with his lips.

He didn't want to appear too forward, he understood from reading the texts that the husband had shown him just how flirtatious "Mick' was supposed to be, and he was the consummate professional; he'd play it just right.

'So, Abi... at last...' Mick left the sentence hanging and smiled again at the woman now sat opposite him. 'Damn, she's really very sexy,' he thought to himself. 'Look at those jugs... Damn.'

'I must say,' Abigail began, 'that you're better looking than I'd actually pictured you...' Then she added, 'Sorry, I didn't mean to be so... forward. I'm just surprised that's all.'

'Surprised?' asked Mick, a little confused.

'Yes,' Abigail reddened slightly. 'I mean I must be at least fifteen years older than you... you must get tons of girls...'

Mick thought: 'I'd still fuck you into a coma.' Then spoke out loud, 'I've always loved the more ...mature woman, they're so much more developed intellectually; have more idea of what they want,' he held Abigail's eyes with his own stare, 'and they know how to get it,' he concluded suggestively.

'I wouldn't know about all that,' Abigail responded, her confidence appeared to slip for a moment. 'I've never actually done anything like this before... I don't know why I'm here, really... Intrigued I suppose.'

A waiter who had arrived to take the order interrupted them but Mick dealt with the man confidently. The waiter slipped discretely away leaving the couple alone.

'You were saying...' Mick pressed gently.

'Well,' continued Abigail. 'I've never done this before... Never met a man without my husband knowing. I've never lied to him, never been unfaithful.'

That was all Mick really needed to know. He could leave now of he wanted to. He could make up a quick excuse and be gone, his job was done, and he'd get paid just the same. He could still find something to do with his evening. He could report back to the husband that Abigail was a paragon of virtue. He believed her when she said she'd never strayed – why should she lie? No reason at all.

Yep, he could go right now, but she was just so damned sexy... He wanted to stay.

The food was superb and the wine flowed. Abigail loosened up more and more as one bottle led to a second. Mick turned on the full spotlight of his charm and the embryo of a plan formed. He could do this... he could seduce this woman and still report back that she had never strayed; not until tonight anyway... if he had his way.

'So tell me, Abi,' Mick leaned close over the table and took Abigail's hand in his own. 'Tell me a fantasy of yours; right now ...just tell me.'

Abigail blushed, 'No,' she demurred, her eyes downcast as the rosy glow spread over the upper slopes of her breasts that were tantalisingly revealed in the deep V of the dress. 'Honestly, I couldn't... Sorry.'

'Go on, Abi,' Mick teased gently. 'Tell me; tell me something that would shock me. I bet you can't shock me.'

Abigail chuckled, 'Oh you're good,' she whispered suddenly changing her attitude again. She took a deep breath, 'Ok,' she said, 'a threesome, that's what I'd love to try... two men at once.'

'Well,' Mick replied. 'I'm not shocked, not at all.' He held Abigail's hand and drew small circles on her palm with his finger while his other hand stroked the soft skin just on the inside of her slim wrist. 'Just promise me one thing, Abi.'

'What's that?'

'That if you ever do go for it, call me; I'd love to be part of it. I'd love to be one of the cocks that you take.'

Abigail felt her insides clench and her pussy begin to oil. The combination of wine, Mick's handling of her sensitive skin and his borderline lewdness was turning her on.