We'd been drinking, the four of us, for hours. Seemingly out of place in the hotel bar, we shared a table, round after round, approaching intoxication. I'd only met the other couple earlier in the evening—my wife's friends through her job. Our conversation, somewhat forced for me as the outsider of the group, turned slowly in its focus from professional to increasingly personal and intimate. Colin and his wife explained in excruciating detail the trials of their infertility—the tests and medications—injections that altered her moods and strained his interest in sex.
"Ever since I had to suffer the humiliation of jacking off in a cup at the beginning of all this, it just seems like we follow a schedule that's routinized our sex. I put it in and pump till I come, and she holds her ass in the air so my 'little swimmers' hit their mark. No romance, no foreplay, not even so much as a quick animal attack. Just, 'Get hard now and shoot.'" Colin complained to us, never even making eye contact with Cheryl.
"You don't exactly set the mood, either. I'm like the dead cockroach, and you just climb aboard. Not so much as a kiss, and then it runs down the crack of my ass," Cheryl slurred without so much as a look at him. It was obvious the strain their individual desires for children had placed on their relationship—so little connection between them. I wondered if they'd ever really had a connection, so mismatched from the beginning, it appeared to me. Colin, somewhat wiry, a thin muscular frame and effeminate, couldn't have been her type. Cheryl, a little older, rougher around the edges, had obviously lived much before meeting him, a striking beauty in earlier days, choosing him as the safe one with whom to settle down to satisfy her family.
Nevertheless, my wife, Kelly, was quite curiously taken with them. She'd spent evenings barricaded in our office out of earshot sharing muffled conversations with the two of them by cell phone. Travelled on business with them, him or her. I'd been suspicious of it all for months, checking her phone records, noting how she called him as soon as she left for work in the morning, immediately at lunch time, and once again on the ride home. And then she'd hide that last daily conversation once she thought I'd fallen asleep. When she'd mention them in connection with work, she glowed—something I'd never really seen in her before.
So Cheryl and I eyed each other across the table as Kelly and Colin ordered another round of Long Island Iced Teas. Something about them, the way Kelly looked at him and his response to her, only confirmed my suspicions; they shared an intimacy between them casual friends don't possess. Despite her repeated denial, I knew she'd wanted him for a long time now. Looking back to Cheryl, I said, "I don't know about you, but I'd love a cigarette. It's been a long time since I had one, but this much scotch deserves it."
"I could go for one, too. That was the only time I smoked in college—when I drank, but he hates it, so I never do now."
Turning to Kelly who was now obviously, visibly buzzed, I said, "I'm going to run down to the gift shop for a pack. Be right back."
"Meet me back in the room. I think I've had my fill down here. I'm rather...tingly," she winked and whispered as her hand brushed across my thigh. I loved it when she drank, her inhibitions thrown aside and willing to satisfy both our desires. She'd be wet by the time she got back to the room, I knew, and she'd be nearly insatiable. Forget everything else, just eat each other alive back in the escape of our hotel room.
Cheryl jumped up with me and grabbed her purse. "We can smoke one in the lobby. Wait for me." And so we left them to finish their drinks.
Nearly stumbling down the hallway, Cheryl took hold of my arm, and I can't say I wasn't taken with her. Despite looking a bit older than her age, she was still attractive, thin with more than a hint of the figure of which she'd been so proud in college—long shapely, smooth legs in spaghetti strapped heels with a sterling toe ring and anklet. We didn't say much, but as we walked, I put my arm around her, pulled her closer to me, felt her hip against mine, suggesting that I help her maintain composure in her altered state.
After purchasing a pack of Salems, we ran outside, and I ripped away the foil to bump out two smokes for us. She lit a match for us, and we leaned in for a light. Complete satisfaction and fulfillment came within two draws of the cigarette, and I'd had enough. I finished the rest anyway as I watched her delicately, seductively hold hers to her mouth, slight lipstick on the filter. She exhaled and flipped her curled hair behind her shoulder. "God, that's good," she hoarsely sighed.
She'd wanted another and suggested we go back in and sit in the lobby. A single couch and table, and we sat down. She edged close to me, leaned back against my shoulder, resting her head and continuing to smoke. Despite the dry, acidic burn of the smoke on my eyes, I sat with her, unmoved, intrigued. I reached my arm from behind and around her, resting my hand on her midriff. It felt more natural now, less forced, less awkward, and much more exciting that I'd felt in a long time. I, too, began to tingle a bit, swelling and hoping she wouldn't lean over and notice.
All too soon for me, she sat up and said, "Come on. I suppose we should go back," as she reached for my hand. I followed. Back down the hallway towards the bar, I stopped and said, "I think she's back to our room by now, so I guess I'll see you in the morning."
"Suppose it'd be rude if I didn't say goodnight to Kelly, wouldn't it?" and she followed me to our door. I slipped the card into the lock, the light brightly gleamed green, and I opened the door for her. She stopped immediately in front of me in the doorway, putting her arm behind her, and her hand stopped me. Together we gazed in shock across the room.
Against the wall, Kelly was pressed leaning back, her blouse open and bra pulled over her breasts. Colin stood against her, kissing her neck as she guided his hand in hers, pulling her skirt to her waist and their intertwined fingers into her wetness. They rubbed and rubbed her rhythmically, and with her other hand, she struggled to pull open his belt. Once liberated, she tugged and gripped his thick member, pulling it against her skin as droplets of pre-come glistened on her belly. They breathed and gasped heavily. Colin pushed her firmly against the wall, and they rocked together, he rubbing her quickly, his fingers intermittently parting her lips and sinking into the warmth of her opening. Kelly continued with her hand around him, now quickly stroking his length. Colin sucked hard at her nipple, evoking deep moans of pleasure from her labored breath.
I found myself caught in silence, confused by my mixed emotions. Here, in front of me in living color, my wife of nearly a decade commits an act deplorable by most measure, leaving me crushed but at the same time more aroused than I've ever possibly been. I watched in silence, without moving for several minutes, transfixed by what I was witnessing. Cheryl, also affected by the sight before us, backed against me, and her hand found mine. She was trembling. I wrapped my arm around her from behind, pulling her into me tightly, my chin on her shoulder. Inhaling the scent of her hair, I turned and couldn't resist kissing her neck gently below the ear. She tightened, but didn't pull away. I held her even tighter, pressing my now hard cock against her ass, wanting her to feel my excitement.
She turned to me, looking into my eyes. We stared momentarily into each other's eyes, and I could see the same shock and sadness in her. I, at that moment, realized that my suspicions about my wife and infidelity had previously been wrong. She'd only been close friends with them. My suspicion, in a sense, though, had been on target about Kelly's attraction for Colin; it was obvious for a long time she was taken with him—emotionally and physically. A single tear Cheryl wiped from her eye, and she reached for my hand. I leaned in, and we kissed feverishly, deeply, passionately. I wanted her with fiery urgency.
