I loved it when my wife had her days off. I worked at home so it was good to spend time together. I could always tell when she had a date. Once we'd gotten out of bed she was full of energy, eating her breakfast quickly and keen for us to walk the dog, whatever the weather. I don't know whether she could tell that I knew; she gave no indication. But she strode out with the dog eager to return home to coffee, biscuits and the internet.
I relished the days that she wasn't working and we could walk the dog together. On these walks we'd talked of every topic imaginable over the years, and argued almost never. Sex had become a very common subject recently, especially since our children were pretty much sorted and we had the house to ourselves. We'd begun to explore a lot more in recent years; not an uncommon occurrence for couples our age who were rediscovering each other after years of childrearing. On these walks we had bared our souls to each other; confessing long harboured fantasies and desires. The walks seemed to make things easier for us to say, allowed us to test the waters first.
On this particular day it was cold and sunny, with a touch of frost first thing. The trees had mostly shed their leaves and the cows we negotiated on our walks would soon be wintering in the large shippons close to the farm. The dog did his own thing, as dogs are wont to do, following invisible trails along the verges and hedgerows. We walked quickly; hats, gloves and thick fleece jackets helping to keep out the chill autumnal air. She took my hand more often than usual and turned even the most innocent of my remarks into sexual innuendo. She suggested that we might have some fun that evening playing one of our favourite 'Dress up' games and I don't doubt that we were both thinking of the sexual possibilities as we walked most of the way back home in a companionable silence.
Back home she quickly unlaced her boots and gave the dog's paws a cursory wipe before making the coffee. Her eyes were sparkling and she was humming tunelessly under her breath all the while. Everything was ready. Mugs set out and coffee brewing in the cafetiere. She hesitated, frowning slightly; I knew she was debating whether to switch on her laptop or wait a while. Maybe she thought we ought to enjoy our coffee together, sociably. I was tempted to prolong her agony, but brought my own laptop into the kitchen and switched it on. Immediately, her face brightened, she switched hers on also, plugging hers and mine into neighbouring sockets, as we sat at the kitchen table, side by side, with our laptops. Mine was faster to start up and she drummed her fingers impatiently.
It wasn't long before I could see a bar flash orange at the bottom of her screen and she switched her instant messenger to 'appear offline', not wanting to be disturbed. I watched her for a moment, she was transfixed by the screen, smiling at whatever her friend was saying. She soon developed a rhythm, alternatively typing and then smiling as she read the responses. Her expression was calm, her worry lines smoothed, as she relaxed. Occasionally she laughed softly and wound her long hair around her fingers as she thought of a suitable retort. Usually I would stay sat next to her, sneaking glances at her reddening face, and when the blush spread further, onto her chest, and her typing became more staccato and she swore as she made increasingly more typos, I would discreetly leave her to it.
Occasionally she dropped little remarks about her time online; who she's been 'playing' with; describing what beautiful lingerie her cross dressing friend had been wearing; a snippet from a hot roleplay that she'd taken part in that day. She usually knew just what to tell me when; making me ragingly horny, or tipping me over the edge when she wanted to watch me cum. Sometimes when I wandered back into the kitchen she would be watching a guy jerking off on his web cam, her face flushed and her hands typing furious dirty encouragement. She would look up at me, a fire in her eyes as she told me who she was watching. I loved that she made guys cum using only the power of her imagination and dirty vocabulary. I also knew she had a penchant for watching the effect she had on these horny guys.
Back to that particular morning and I didn't discreetly leave. I watched as her face became puzzled and her typing became hesitant. She fidgeted in her seat, then sat up, her back straight and turned to me with her face scarlet.
'He says I have to ask you if you're ready. What's going on?' she cleared her throat as her voice faded into huskiness. I smiled at her and leaned in to kiss her, her cheeks burning in embarrassment and confusion.
'It's ok sweetie. It's your turn to have some fun. With him,' I gestured towards her laptop. 'And me.' The screen shook as a 'nudge' was sent. Her eyes flicked back to the screen, biting her bottom lip.
'He says I have to read out what he's typing. So you can hear.' A slight catch still in her voice made my stomach lurch. 'What have you two been up to? When were you talking to him?' smiling now; her eyes sparkling as her mind raced to work out what was happening.
'Keep your eyes on the screen and your hands on the keyboard.' I tried to make it sound like an order, but it came out as a request. She smiled and shook her head; not as a refusal more as an "I don't know what to do with you" type gesture.
'He says you have to get under the table,' grinning broadly now, as she finally knew where this was going. I crawled under the table and knelt facing her. Her skirt hung over her knees; her feet barefoot, slippers abandoned.
'Push my knees apart and admire me,' I heard her disembodied voice giggle as she relayed her friend's instructions. I placed a hand on each knee and gently coaxed them wider, watching her thighs stretch and then she lifted her feet to plant them much wider. Her voice faltered a little as she told me to use my fingers and caress her over her panties. Her friend's instructions had been explicit: 'Run your finger along the line from my clit to my sweet tight hole.' I heard both embarrassment and amusement in her voice.
