My wife Anna flirts with the stranger all night. She completely ignores me.
We've been married and faithful for ten years now. According to her she's never been unfaithful to me, and I'm sure that's completely true. As for me, my wife is the only one for me.
We're away on a seminar this weekend. I work as an accountant, and my firm sent me to a convention, all expenses paid. My wife usually comes with me on these trips, so we can get a little weekend getaway at the same time.
I'm thirty-one now, and my wife is a year younger than me. Her looks hasn't changed much since we met. She's still quite tall, wonderfully curved and has that magnificent dark hair that she never has to color.
This evening all the seminar participants gathered in the hotel bar for a party. My wife started talking with a man around the age of fifty. He's obviously interested in her. I can see the looks he sends her, and the way he stares at her deliciously curved ass.
The stranger is a broad shouldered manager of a firm from another town. He's a rugged and manly guy, at least a head taller than me.
I'm at the bar with some colleagues. I see them on the other side of the dance floor - my wife and the stranger. They're laughing, and she sits down on his lap, even though there are free seats at their table.
I feel the jealousy bubble up inside me. But behind that feeling, I sense another, more unexpected feeling. Arousal. I see his hand on her thigh. She ignores me. Ignores everyone else in the entire room.
I have to put up a facade of small talk with the people around me. The next time I turn around to catch a glimpse of my wife, I can swear that the stranger has a hand under her blouse. On her breast? I struggle to believe what I'm seeing.
"Isn't that your wife over there?" one of my colleagues ask me.
"Yeah." I try to act cool and calm.
"It's none of my business, really..." he starts. "...But that guy is supposed to be a real hound for the ladies. Broke up Thompsons marriage at last year's convention."
I just shrug it off, but I can feel the doubt raging inside me. I wash it down with a sip of scotch.
Going to fetch another drink at the bar, I watch my wife and the stranger out of the corner of my eye. Did I see her hand on his crotch? No. Can't be happening.
I ask the bartender for a double refill on my whisky, and to please hurry up.
I get the drink and turn around. Suddenly they're gone. I can't see them anywhere in the bar.
I walk over to a booth where some of his colleagues are sitting. I ask them what his name is. Anderson, they tell me.
Then I swiftly go to the reception, where I ask the receptionist which room he's staying in. Room 417, she tells me. I take the elevator.
I see them as I'm about to round the corner in the corridor on the fourth floor.
They're on their way towards his room, and he has his hand on her ass as they walk.
I hide behind the corner, so they can't see me. They reach the door, and he puts the keycard in the lock. Has he brought my wife here to have sex with her?
Suddenly she grabs him, stands on her toes and stretches up to kiss him. They french kiss for a painfully long time, while he grabs and fondles her ass. Her skirt slides up her thighs, and I can see her black lace panties.
They disappear into his room, and I'm left here in total shock. I'm wondering what I should do. Just stand here like a wimp, while a complete stranger fucks my wife?
I walk along the corridor, and as I get closer I notice that the door is slightly ajar. By accident, or did they know that I was following them?
I listen and hear their voices from inside. He's saying something to her with his deep, masculine voice, and she giggles like a teenage girl. I peek through the crack in the door, but I can't spot them. I see shadows move under the door to the bathroom.
I act on impulse. Quickly, I enter the room and close the door silently behind me. The closet by the entrance have doors with blinds. I sneak inside and hide, peering out the blinds to see what's going on.
The door to the bathroom opens. He comes out and walks over to the bed, where his suitcase lies open. I can see my wife standing in the bathroom, blushing and clearly horny. He grabs a soap from his suitcase and goes back to her.
"So, if you're as warm and sweaty as you say, you need a shower, right?" he says to her.