The Game

PART 2 – HALF-TIME?

I was hungover.

When I first opened my eyes, even the weak sunlight filtering through the curtains felt like someone was pushing sharpened icicles into my eyes, while the first attempt to raise my head from the pillow was an abject and painful failure. Even Jeanie's whispered; "Morning, Love... how're you feeling?" sounded like the roar of a hungry tigress announcing the triumphant killing of her prey.

Slowly, and cautiously I turned over to face her, trying to ignore the dizziness and the evil being who was trying to scrape my eyeballs from the insides. Gradually, as my blurred vision had cleared a little, I saw that my wife was lying on her side, balanced on one elbow, and facing towards me with an uncertain smile on her lovely, elfin face. Somehow, with her blonde hair tousled and in disarray, she managed to look even more beautiful than when it was neatly styled.

The covers had slipped to reveal the top half of her naked body, and my gaze was automatically drawn to her small, firm breasts. They were, of course, as beautiful as ever; but as I looked at them it immediately brought back the memory of the night before – and the realisation that other hands and other lips had been allowed the freedom to tease, to fondle and to enjoy them.

"Are you alright, Love?" she whispered with a note of anxiety in her voice, "You look very pale."

"My head hurts," I managed to growl, wondering who had swapped my tongue for a sanding block.

"I'll get you some painkillers," she said, "There's some in my bag." And even the slight shift of the mattress as she climbed out of bed – rather gingerly, I noticed – was enough to start my head spinning again. Moments later, she returned with a couple of white tablets and a glass of chilled, bottled water from the minibar. The tablets were difficult to swallow, but the water was very welcome and I drained the glass greedily. When she took the glass from me, she poured the remaining contents of the bottle into it. Took a couple of sips to swallow some tablets herself, and handed it back to me.

"Have you got a sore head, too?" I asked, disingenuously.

"Errm... not my head... no," she replied, and looked for my reaction. I looked away and sipped the cool water. As she'd been standing there, I'd already noticed that her pubic hair was matted and there appeared to be patches of dried seminal fluid on her inner thighs. I thought I'd been inconspicuous about noticing it, but my wife is a very perceptive lady. "Right," she said, "I'm going to run a bath and have a good long soak in it... see if it can sort me out...." And then she was gone from view and a minute or so later I heard the water pouring into the bath.

"If you need the bathroom," she called, "You'd better make it soon!"

She was right, I did need it and, as her bath was running, I introduced the contents of my stomach to the porcelain bowl; discovering, not for the first time, that no matter how good Irish whiskey tasted on the way down, it was pretty vile when it came back up!

After that, I tried to lie down again, but every time I closed my eyes coloured circles danced on the lids and, after a while, I gave it up as a bad job and just sat staring at the unbelievably bland print of a woodlands scene hanging disconsolately on one of the walls. Eventually, I rose precariously to my feet again - having made the decision that I needed to relieve myself and to take a shower. Timidly, I knocked on the bathroom door and asked Jeanie if she was going to be much longer.

"No... not long! Come in... it's not locked!" she called out and then, when I tentatively opened the door and stepped into the steam-filled room, she said; "You don't normally knock when you know I'm in the bath. What's wrong?"

I shrugged, helplessly, knowing that I still wasn't capable of understanding how I felt, let alone explaining it. The fact that I was, even in that somewhat tender state, delighted by the sight of her beautiful, slender, naked body, was compromised by the thought that it was no longer my personal preserve. Only a few short hours before, that gorgeous body had been displayed to another man; to a younger, more vigorous and more virile man than I could ever hope to become. For several hours his hands had wandered freely over that firm and radiant flesh; his lips had tasted all the sweetness of even the most intimate places without restriction, his erect penis had invaded and thrilled her and, not only had he sated her, he might well have impregnated her too.

The idea had thrilled me. The reality had shocked me. The aftermath had left me totally confused.

Perhaps it was something about the way I looked at her that made her suddenly uncomfortable, because she had the large, white towel wrapped around her almost before she'd finished climbing out of the bath.

"Jeanie?" I began, not knowing where to look or what to say.

"It's alright, Love," she responded softly, and briefly lifted her hand to stroke my cheek, "You don't have to say anything. We can talk later... when we get home." And then she went through to the bedroom, leaving me to wonder what she'd meant about 'getting home.'

There was steaming hot coffee waiting by the time I was dried and dressed, and I asked about home immediately.

"I need to go home today... this afternoon," she told me.

"But... why?"

"Because Greg said he was going to stay here for another night or two."

There was a silence as I tried to absorb what she was telling me... and to make some sense of it.

"Don't you see?" she asked, as gently as she could. "He wants to continue the affair with me. He practically begged me to meet him in the lobby again tonight."

"And you don't want to?"

"Jesus!" she sighed in complete exasperation, "You really don't understand, do you?"

Well, to be honest, she was definitely right about that, as my befuddled look probably revealed.

"Listen... sit down before you spill your coffee... then listen very carefully to what I'm saying," she instructed as patiently as she could.

"Okay... last night," she began, then paused to take a deep breath, "I was completely out of control. And I'm still not a hundred per cent certain what caused it." I went to say something but she shushed me as she tried to put her thoughts in order.

"Firstly, I was mad as hell at you for trying to set me up like that. Oh... I know... I didn't have to go along with it. I could have said a simple 'no' in the first place and just gone back to our room. But it felt like you were... I don't know... trying to control me, as well as challenging me to see how far I'd dare to go... and I hated it. That was why I agreed to have dinner with Greg... just to show you that you shouldn't try to play games with me... and I'm putting at least half the blame for that onto you!

"Don't get me wrong... the rest of it was down to me. It was down to me being so flattered by the attentions of an attractive young man; it was down to me for being prepared to relax and enjoy his company. I'd love to say it was also partly down to the wine... but that would only be an excuse, really... and...."

I could see the tears welling up in her eyes, so I went to stand up to take her in my arms and comfort her, but she waved me back.

"No... please, Love... just listen for a moment. Okay?" she insisted, "I've got to get this clear." She paused, took another breath, and went on;

"I'm trying to be totally honest, Love... and I'm sorry if any of this hurts you... but I've got to say it. The sex I had with Greg was superb! It was wild, it was passionate... it was completely uncontrolled; and I loved it!

"I'm not like you... I've never been with anyone else. Until last night, you were my first and only and I'd never wanted anyone else. But last night was new... it was different. It was also extremely scary being with someone else, believe it or not... and there was a sense of wickedness about it... a feeling of doing something that I wasn't allowed to do, I suppose. And it all combined to make me behave the way I did. That's the only explanation I've been able to come up with.

"Yes... being young, he was able to recover quickly and be vigorous... and to do it however many times...."

"Four!" I said instantly, and she gave a weak smile.

"I thought you'd remember," She said, "Anyway... enough to make me feel really good at the time and rather sore afterwards... a bit like your Irish whiskey! But there was something else, Love. There was something I didn't... couldn't have... known about...."

"Don't say it, Jeanie... please," I asked.

"I have to... I can't keep it to myself and just pretend it doesn't matter."

She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment or two, breathed deeply, then took hold of my hands and waited until I managed to meet her gaze before saying;

"He wanted to give me a baby. He really wanted to make me pregnant. That was what made it so special!"

I couldn't meet her gaze for long. I dropped my eyes and she released my hands so I could get back to my coffee.

"To answer your question, Love. I want to leave because, while I'm here, in the same hotel as him, I'll feel tempted. You asked whether I wanted to meet him in the lobby tonight... well, the truthful answer is that I probably do want to... but I'm not going to. That's why we're going home. I don't want to be anywhere near temptation with the way I'm feeling... not at the moment, anyway!"

The journey was a long one, and a pretty quiet one, too. I knew exactly what was bugging Jeanie, but it was one of the very few things – possibly the only one – that I didn't really want to discuss with her again. It was early evening by the time we arrived. Sharing the driving duties, we'd stopped for a meal at a service station that was almost as insipid as our conversation – and we were both tired. Certainly, neither of us was prepared for what was to come.

It started innocently enough; a weary climb up the stairs to the bedroom, and then we stood beside our bed and looked at each other. Slowly, and tentatively, we both seemed to reach out at the same time; my arms closed around her and I found that she was holding onto me with all of her strength. There was a kiss, as soft as a breath of wind, and then we stepped back a little and began to undress.

I didn't delay – I can't bring myself to even consider that there's anything attractive about watching an overweight, 43-year-old man undress – so my trousers and sweatshirt were soon gone, my shoes kicked aside, and I was sat on the bed to pull my socks off by the time Jeanie had removed her sweater and unfastened her impossibly-tight jeans. Socks disposed of, I paused to watch – there is something utterly compulsive about watching a beautiful, 27-year-old female undress – as she literally peeled the jeans from her legs. Then she looked at me with a very uneasy smile as she reached behind her to undo the clasp of her bra.

As it came unfastened and slid down her arms to reveal the breasts I adored, an uninvited and unwanted image sprang into my mind as I remembered her saying how exciting it had been when she'd first pressed her 'tits' – yes, 'tits,' that was the word she'd used – against Greg's hairy chest. And then, of course, it all flooded back to me again; how enjoyable it had been when he'd caressed them and teased her nipples with his hands and his mouth and, suddenly, I felt what I can only describe as a surge of raging lust.

Without thinking I reached out, putting my arm around her narrow waist and drawing her so roughly to me that her feet almost left the floor. My mouth quickly found hers and my tongue virtually forced its way inside while my right hand grabbed and squeezed a small breast. I heard her gasp as I began to roll her nipple between my thumb and forefinger and then, after a moment or two, she pulled back and pushed my hand away saying; "You're hurting me!"

Normally, the thought of hurting my beautiful partner would have been abhorrent to me but, on this occasion, it barely registered at all. I muttered something that could have been construed as an apology, then went back to kissing her face and neck while my hands moved down to grasp the waistband of her pants and begin tugging them down. If my mind hadn't been befogged by the strange, frenzied lust, I would have noticed that Jeanie wasn't at all comfortable with the unfamiliarity of my behaviour but I was, helplessly, seeing the images that her description of the night before had placed in my mind.

When my mouth moved down to her nipple, I was picturing Greg kissing, licking and sucking on them... just as I was doing; and then, when I'd eased her back onto the bed, completely removed her knickers and begun to gorge on her beautiful entrance with my lips and tongue, I could almost hear Greg's voice saying how he'd love to get his face between her legs... and Jeanie saying that he'd been 'really good' at that! I couldn't help it; the images were fixed – they were part of a new, and changed, reality.

My wife, my lovely Jeanie, was doing her best to respond to my efforts. As I inserted one finger into her, and then a second one, I wondered if Greg had done the same. I couldn't recall it being mentioned.

"Gently, Love... please," I heard her whisper, "I'm still just a tiny bit... Ow!" she suddenly yelped because, carelessly, I'd shoved my fingers into her much too firmly – right up to the knuckles. She was, in fact, barely damp inside... certainly not lubricated enough for that kind of treatment.

Even so, I didn't say 'sorry' because I didn't think it necessary; instead, I withdrew the fingers and went back to teasing her clitoris with my lips and tongue.

I could feel that it was – slowly – beginning to work; could feel the tension beginning to gradually drain from her body, but it was a process that would take more time and patience than I was able to muster. With no thought other than that I wanted to be inside her – to be making her react the way that Greg had made her – I practically tore off my final garment and, purely from habit, reached for the drawer where I always kept a plentiful supply of condoms.

"No! No condoms!" She almost begged. "I want it to be you... not...."

"Me? Are you sure it's me you really want?" I rasped, far more harshly than my lovely wife deserved.

"Oh, God, Love!" she almost whimpered, "I never wanted anyone else... just you. You know that! You know it!" As she spoke, I was looking into her eyes and there was no disingenuity there, and no artifice; there was only a look of real hurt - and a love that I almost certainly didn't deserve. Suddenly, the anger drained from me and, as if I'd woken up from a nightmare, I was back to the reality of my own Jeanie – to the beautiful and caring partner that I wanted to share the whole of eternity with. Emotion began to overcome me as she reached her arms out and drew me into a gentle embrace.

"Oh, Jeanie... I'm sorry...."

""I know... it's alright," she whispered as she pressed my head to her small, firm breasts and planted soft kisses on the top of my head. I went to speak again, but she held me tightly and said, "Shhh... Love... just relax for a minute or two... it'll be okay." And then, with a noticeable catch in her voice, "I love you... please don't ever lose sight of that."

While one hand stroked the back of my neck, she kissed me softly as her other hand drifted down between our bodies to my groin and began to caress me. Then as her gentle touch began to make me stiffen again, she whispered;

"It doesn't matter this time, Love. I'll be taking the 'morning after' pill tomorrow... just to be on the safe side... no matter what happens. This is your chance... and mine... to be your first!"

What she was referring to was the fact that I had never dared to have 'unprotected' sex with anyone... even before I'd met Jeanie. I'm the youngest of three children and, long before I became sexually active, both my brother and my sister had produced a Down's Syndrome child – probably to the dismay of their partners. An uncle of mine, who'd died in his mid-20s, had suffered from the same condition.

I was certain that it was due to a mutant gene that ran in our family and, although I'm ashamed to admit it, I felt repulsed by my niece and nephew. No matter how much I tried not to show it, I was sure that they were somehow aware of it and never wanted that to be between myself and my own kids. The result was that I'd been terrified by the thought of producing any children of my own – and almost obsessive about preventing it from happening. I had seriously considered a vasectomy, but it hadn't seemed too urgent as long as Jeanie was happy with what we were doing. Even though she'd offered to go onto oral contraception, I'd refused; I'd told her it was because it was my responsibility but, in reality, I'd been too scared that she might neglect to take it – either accidentally or deliberately.

But she was right, wasn't she? The way things stood, with her about to make certain that there wouldn't be a pregnancy, I was free – for the first time in my life – to enjoy that most natural act of love in a perfectly unfettered and natural way.

"Just be gentle, Love," she murmured as she kissed my neck, "just be yourself... I can't ask for more than that. Enjoy it... enjoy me!" And then our lips met in a long, sweet kiss and before another could begin, Jeanie was gently persuading me onto her, with the gentle clasp of her hand guiding me towards the sweetest place in heaven or earth.

I felt her warmth and her wetness against my flesh; a new, strange and amazing sensation, and then there was the cloying, restless feel of her body enclosing me as I slowly pressed myself into her welcoming softness.

No matter how 'sensitive' the manufacturers of condoms claimed their products to be, nothing could possibly match the feel of solid flesh contained by the clinging warmth of yielding flesh. I had simply never realised how different it could be compared to what I was used to.

"That feels wonderful," Jeanie told me, "that's exactly what I want... I love you... I love you so much," she almost sobbed, as I slowly began to slide in and out of her. After a few seconds, I found a steady rhythm that she seemed to appreciate; she raised her knees so that I could penetrate her further, and I relished the unfamiliar feeling of slick wetness as her pleasure increased. I felt her respond to my thrusts by raising and lowering her hips to meet and match them; felt her hands on my shoulder blades, holding me close while her tongue gently and delightfully sought mine.

For a moment, there was an unwanted flash of memory; of her saying that Greg had brought her to a climax almost immediately – and to God knows how many more during the course of the night – but I pushed it aside. Did it matter? Well, if it did, we'd probably still be in the hotel a very long way from here, I told myself; so maybe it didn't.

Even so, I could sense her excitement slowly growing and I needed to concentrate to make it last long enough. Shutting my eyes didn't help very much; even though it removed the sight of her lovely face, contorted in ever-increasing rapture; her soft moans and murmurs still produced images of my lovely wife writhing and moaning as Greg had pounded into her – far harder and with much more freedom than I could hope to achieve at that moment.

I was still desperately devising strategies to control myself when I recognised a sudden change in Jeanie's movements – familiar movements producing new sensations – as she neared her climax. I began to hold back, wanting to extend what I believed would be a glorious experience, but Jeanie wrapped her legs tightly around me as her hands grasped and pushed on my buttocks.

"Oh, yes! Oh, God... yes!" She cried out. "Don't stop... please! Don't stop!" and then, with even greater urgency, "Harder... fuck me... fuck me hard! Fill me! Go on... do it... do it inside me... right up inside me! Do it! Do it!" as her voice turned into a pitiful wail and she began to squirm and writhe with an orgasm fierce enough not to notice that my erection had suddenly melted away and been pushed out by the force of her spasms. Her hands and legs still held me against her so that I could feel her hot juices flowing onto the rapidly reducing length of my penis, but it took her several seconds to realise what had happened.