Literotica is an odd meeting place for maybe writers. Me, an old geezer from Scandinavia find and get the help of a young female writer and editor who make my attempts at least readable. Thank you very much Cheer_Smartie526.
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I love my partner Claire and yesterday I was one hundred percent sure she loved me just as much. Today I am not as sure.
What made me say this? What made me doubtful? Nothing she said or did, just a strange feeling.
Both Claire and I travel for our jobs; she is employed by a successful advertising agency as a sales person. I work as a service engineer in a packing plant, making customized packing for the food industry. She is away from home two to three days at a time, the same as me. Our travels rarely coincide, so we only see each other on the weekends. That's why we agreed to save our money so we could have a comfortable financial situation upon turning 30; then change our career to more home based jobs and then hopefully start a family. As we are both well paid, all is going according to plan and we have a year left before reaching our target.
Yesterday I told Claire I would pick her up at the airport in the evening after a trip to Denver. She had been away for three days and two nights. She deplaned alongside her boss; they often travel together. I knew that and she told me that on this trip they both would be going. That was no surprise; neither was her kiss and hug, which was as loving as it used to be.
When we came home yesterday evening, we did as we always do when one is coming home to the other, made love. Yesterday was no exception; there was no indication that anything was wrong. We made love, slow delicious love that is so very comforting and satisfying for both. We undressed each other, the loving touches, feather light hands stroking my neck while her lips brushed my cheek, seeking my hungry mouth. To feel her soft lips lock on mine is great, I can never get enough.
A few moments later, we lay down on our spacious bed, stroking and caressing each other's bodies. My hands comfortably enclose her breast and she likes me to use my thumb playing with her nipple. It gets hard, very hard; she sighs and asks me to do the other, which I do.
"Please, do me now she begs".
I hug her from behind, her favourite position, fondling her tits, they are each a handful.
She plays with herself while I ease my cock in her, gently till it is firmly imbedded to the hilt. She likes it to be slow and gentle and for several minutes we lie there enjoying each other building up to the glorious finish. We lie still for some time, resting while my cock withers and slowly slides out of her. After resting in each other's arms we go to the bathroom and take a shower together. I wash her and she cleans me, my cock especially.
Back in bed, she takes my now flaccid cock in her mouth. She says it is such an erotic feeling to have the soft cock head in her mouth and let the tongue swirl around the head, to feel it start to swell and get hard. She is a champion cocksucker, she deep-throat like a pro and this time she carries on until I with a shattering climax fill her mouth. She smiles and opens her mouth, show me what she has on her tongue and swallows.
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Yet, sitting in my office today, I remembered there was a smirk around her boss' mouth that irritated me. This said in my imagination; "I know something you don't," or "I have fucked your partner." That's why I went from certain to almost. It's an ugly feeling.
We came home at the same time, made dinner together and had a pleasant evening relaxing and talking. I did not voice my concern; I had to think it through first. As this was a Friday, we had the whole weekend together. Saturday is my golfing day with the boys, while she usually goes shopping with the girls. We went out with friends in the evening. After a walk in the countryside on Sunday and a quiet afternoon, I decided to approach the subject delicately. I didn't want to ask her outright, she would be hurt if she had nothing to hide. If she did, she would most likely say nothing inappropriate happened at all. I won't snoop in her phone or her laptop; I won't bug the phones nor hire a PI. If it was a one-time occurrence I will forgive; but I have made a plan how to deal with the situation.
After dinner, I asked Claire, "Hey, may I speak with you about something?"
"Is something wrong?" she asked. Her face gave nothing away.
"No, not that I am aware of at any rate," I replied, "You see Claire, we are traveling a lot, we are away so often that I am a little worried. We work, eat, and sleep and have little time to go out and have some fun. Being away from you makes me feel lonely sometimes. Do you feel the same way?"
"Yes, John, I do."
"When I am away I see a lot of lonely men and women who solve their loneliness by having extramarital relationships. They say it makes the time away from home more exciting. They also say they don't love their spouses any less, but in my opinion that can't be true. You can't have intimate contact outside marriage without disrespecting your spouse; that's certainly not love."
"Do you suspect me solving the loneliness this way John?" She asked and I could see tears forming in her eyes.
"No, I don't, I trust you. To assure you, neither do I. However, I had an idea that would put my mind at ease, and also create some suspense and excitement."
"OK, let me hear what you have up your sleeve," she laughed.
"Together, we have earned a great number of air miles. We fly so often that we do not feel the need to use any of them for pleasure. Some are about to expire and I think we can put them to use in a certain fashion."
I pulled out a die from my pocket. I had found it in my study a short while ago thinking about the problem. I showed the die to her and said, "Next time one of us leaves town on business, I suggest the spouse who is left at home rolls this die after the traveling spouse has left. If it settles on a six or any other predetermined value, the spouse left at home makes a visit to the travelling spouse, by booking a ticket to the same town and surprising him or her at the hotel. I would be delighted to have an unexpected visit from you and I hope you feel the same. What do you say?"
I watched closely to see whether she looked disappointed or not. She didn't show any emotions, but did mull it over for some time before giving her response.
"An interesting idea John, but do you really think it is a good idea to fly when we don't need to, instead of being home to rest and collect the strength that we need for our jobs?" she asked.
"Point taken Claire, but remember there are six faces on a die, the chances are only one in six for the number you choose to turn up. You could throw the die for months before it would end up on the number you have chosen. Alternatively, it may turn up on the first throw. You won't know, that's the interesting part of it."
We discussed the idea for some time, Claire being a bit reluctant. I ended our discussion, saying, "If you are tired, don't throw the die. If you have some spare time and feel up for an adventure, just make the trip and surprise me. You don't actually need to throw the die; it's entirely up to you. I won't know. However, I am going to throw the die every time you are leaving on an overnight trip and let chance decide."
Our busy schedule continued for several weeks without any of us surprising the other with a visit. I did not throw the die, as I was very busy with my job. I just waited for an easy period so I could put in a surprise visit to her.
One evening I was at a hotel bar in Palm Beach with two colleagues. Personal Care Product Council had its annual meeting in our hotel. My friends Mark and Steve had picked up two women, Eve and Nancy; both with husbands and children at home. I did not like the situation at all, as Mark and Steve were married too. They pestered me to find a companion and go clubbing with them. I refused, telling them, "Go, I will retire to my room and read a bit before going to bed."
Just as I was about to leave, a very pretty lady came through the door. Something about her made me look twice. She moved like Claire, but it couldn't be, could it? I did not recognize the dress she was wearing. She had long, blond hair and Claire is a brunette. She wore glasses; Claire used contact lenses. The woman went up to the far end of the bar and found a seat, sweeping her hair over her right shoulder, so it cascaded down the front of her dress. It was that give away movement that made me sure Claire had come to visit.
As I was at the other end of the bar, I went up to the bartender and said, "You see the blond lady at the other end?" He nodded.
