This story is completely fictional, but with roots in real life. If you find the English and grammar and maybe the idioms are unusual this is because this story is written in New Zealand English which is a little different from American or UK English.
We are very indebted to VMKC for editing our story and making it so much more readable, Thanks VMKC.
*
Denise and I had met and married at a later age. We are now in our early 50's
,
each having been through a previous marriage and both have mature children. Neither of us would gain prizes in beauty contests, but we are both active and healthy and in good shape. Our sex life was, to me at least, really great, with both of us instigating and participating.We had sex at least twice a week and sometimes more on Saturday night. When I slipped into bed beside her, Denise used to pull me closer and we would hurriedly take each other's sleepwear off and settle into a good slow fuck.
But about five weeks ago,just as I was slipping peacefully to sleep with Denise's leg over mine and her soft breath on my cheek, she said, "Darling, the girls from work are all going for drinks on Friday evening. You don't mind if I go for an hour or two do you?"
I took a deep breath to steady myself and gain my senses, but as she had already gone to sleep I didn't get a chance to say, "I don't think it is right for you to go." I lost the chance by default.
Friday evening she came down into the lounge freshly showered, very little make up, and looking like the girl next door. She kissed me fondly and promised not to be late.I asked Denise,"Where are you meeting the girls?" and she said,"the Grumpy Mole Bar." Sure enough, about 10.30 she came in really hyped up, eyes glowing and bouncing with energy. Ready to fuck.
"We had a great time." she said. "They had a karaoke machine and we sang all evening. I didn't get up at all, of course, but it was fun singing along and laughing. Come on. Take me to bed. I need you to fuck my brains out." Who was I to argue with an offer like that.
Next week nothing was said, but after a light meal, Denise had freshened up and changed her clothes, she gave me a kiss and went off to meet the girls. The precedence was set. Denise's return home each Friday night became later and later each week, till midnight got to be the norm.
"You were not singing karaoke all evening were you?"
"Oh no!" came the casual reply. "We got sick of that. Now we go to the Golden Bar where they have a dance floor. It is much more fun."
Danger bells started to ring with me, The Golden Bar was a great pick up joint and I was getting a bit terse but I bit my tongue.
She said,"You don't need to get jealous. I'm not doing anything wrong."Then hurried out the door.
But after Denise left I went up to our bedroom and searched through her wardrobe and drawers finding a frock or two, a skirt and some Victoria Secret underwear that I had never seen before. I had also noticed that she was becoming more terse as her skirts became shorter.
Next Friday, as soon as Denise left, (by now with only a quick kiss on my cheek and a "see you." and she was out the door). I slipped into the bathroom, a quick brush of the teeth and comb through the hair, and I followed her down to the Golden Bar. I slipped quietly in the back door and on to a bar stool where I could watch the crowd.
Sure enough, there were the "girls" but there too, were several young studs all of whom obviously knew each other well and together with the girls were having a great fun evening. One male in a smart blue shirt was sitting very close and improperly with Denise, and she was obviously enjoying the attention. Denise and Blue Shirt got up to dance, and I saw that they obviously knew each others' moves and had, in my opinion, danced together often. A slow number started and immediately Denise's arms went around his neck, her head on his shoulder and his hands down her back and he was kneading her arse. I had seen enough, so I quietly left the bar and headed home. Denise was very late home, straight into the shower and snuck into bed. I pretended to be sound asleep.
During the week I made a lunch date with my mate Allan who was recently divorced, and told him the whole story. Talking it out eased my anger but not my resolve. Plans were laid.
As Denise was getting ready next Friday, I went into the bedroom to find her in sheer black panties and a matching bra, with stockings and garter belt.