The Week Pt 03

When I wake up in the morning I feel your absence from the bed before I even open my eyes. I lay there for a bit listening for sounds of you in the house, but there's nothing. I roll over and look at the clock. It's 7:45. The sun is up but low, still casting heavy shadows into the backyard beyond your night stand. I lean over and put my face on your pillow, breathing in the scent of you.

I get up to go look for you. I miss you already. I want to smell you again, touch you, feel you against me. I decide to put on my boxer-briefs. I don't want any surprises walking naked through an unfamiliar house.

I don't find you, but on the kitchen counter, next to one of those personal pod cappuccino machines I find a mug, a pod, and a foamer, already filled with milk. I make myself a cup. While I wait, I gather up our clothes from the night before in the family room where we'd left them. I see you out by the pool in your tiny purple bikini, laying on a lounger in a thin strip of sun. I get my coffee from the kitchen and go outside to join you.

You're lying on your stomach. Your practically naked ass looks glorious in the sunshine, rising smoothly above your back and legs. Your head is facing me, but you have sunglasses on so I can't tell if your eyes are open.

As I walk up to you you say, "Hi," chipperly, without raising your head.

"Good morning," I reply, taking a seat next to you in the shade. "How did you sleep?"

"Wonderfully. I like having you next to me. I always get up early though. Old habit from when the kids were young."

"Yeah. I'm still there," I admit. "I missed you when I woke up." I feel comfortable telling this. There's no insecurity with you.

"Mmmm," you purr. "I'm right here, Sean."

"I know." I put down my mug. "Thanks for the coffee, by the way. So do you need any help with lotion? Maybe on your tits?"

"Uh, no. I got that already. Besides, I'm laying on them."

"I did notice that. How about your back?"

"That would be great." You raise your head and smile at me. "I've been waiting for you. The bottle's over there."

I grab it and move over to sit next to you on the side of the lounger. I put some lotion in my hand and rub my hands together to warm it up. I pull the string on your top, letting the two ends of string fall away off your back.

"Oh my," you say coyly. "Not even 8 am and you're already undressing me."

"If I just have to pull a string to undress you, Carissa, then you probably weren't really dressed."

"Good point," you laugh.

I smear the lotion onto your back and then work it in while I massage you. Touching you again makes my heart beat faster, sending blood to my crotch.

"Mmmmm, that feels good," you tell me. "I've been thinking. I want you to do that thing to me, with the vibrator and the blindfold. Don't tell me when. Just surprise me."

"OK." I'm smiling. You hadn't seemed too keen on the idea the day before. I was hoping to eventually change your mind, but you did it yourself. You're becoming pretty adventurous, and quickly. I have unleashed a wild animal, I thought. Maybe I should be more careful. "Do you want a safe word? Something to let me know when you've had enough?"

"I do feel safe with you Sean. Maybe that sounds foolish, but I do."

"I'm glad," I tell you. "You are. I won't hurt you." You purr in response. "You may want to play the role of victim though. You know, telling me to stop, and begging me to let you go. That kind of thing. If you do, I'll ignore you until I hear the safe word. Got it? How about 'persimmon'?

"OK," you shrug. "Persimmon it is."

I continue to rub the muscles in your shoulders and back. I like to think I'm making you a little wet, or maybe you're already doing it to yourself. "You sure are pale for someone who likes laying in the sun so much."

"I use, like, SPF 2000. And I don't really tan, my freckles just get darker."

"I love your freckles," I tell you. I lean forward to kiss a freckled shoulder."

You respond with a purr. "Mmmm. I'm glad. That makes one of us."

"Totally," I assure you. "They're adorable, and they're part of you. I like everything about you."

"Everything?"

"Yes."

"You make me feel wonderful," you say softly.

I continue to knead you. Searching for any hard spots.

"So, do you have any plans for today?" you ask. The question feels probing.

"Nothing in particular. I was hoping to spend more time with you, if you want."

"I would like that," you say with a smile.

"I should probably go home at some point and get some stuff done. And I need to call my...kids."

"That's fine you say. I have to go to church, so we can meet up again afterwards. And before you ask, no, you can't come with me. I don't relish sitting in church with a sopping wet pussy."

"OK. Why do you HAVE to go?"

"It's a social thing, mostly. Plus, if I don't go people will talk. I still have to play the part of the good wife until I get custody of the kids."

"That makes sense. Have I told you how much brilliant you are and how much I love that about you? It's super sexy."

"So it's not just my tits and ass?" you ask coyly.

"Not by a long shot. But, damn! Those tits and that ass." I give your ass a good smack, making you jump. But you don't complain. I think you're starting to like getting spanked.

"Mmmmm," you purr again. You're putting me in the mood for a long massage. Let's have a spa day. Will you let yourself be pampered with me for four hours?"

"Four hours with you is being pampered," I laugh. "But you bet, that sounds amazing. And I'd love to watch you get pampered."

"Great. I'll arrange it for 1:00. But listen." You roll over to look at me. You take off your sunglasses. I get a little worried about what you're going to say next. "Don't get me wrong. I love when you touch me. In fact, since we've met, I think every time you've touched me I've gotten wet. And I love feeling you inside me, and on top of me, and underneath me. Everything you do to me is amazing. But...my pussy is sore."

I breathe a sigh of relief. "Yeah," I admit. "My dick is sore too. But I can't help myself. You're so hot and smart and funny. When I'm around you I'm just horny all the time. You make me feel like a kid again."

You put your hand on my cheek tenderly and I move my face to kiss your palm. "Me too," you say with a warm smile. "But we should probably give ourselves a break, or we'll burn out, or get hurt. Why don't we try not to have sex until, I don't know, after dinner?"

"OK. I'll try."

"Thank you. What time is it anyway?" you ask.

"Probably a little after 8."

"Damn. Alright, I need to start getting ready." You start to get up and gather your things. I stare at your body and watch you move.

"Have you eaten anything?" I ask.

"No. There's no time. I laid here too long. I'll get something after."

"You need to eat," I tell you. "We didn't have any dinner last night. I'll make you some eggs while you get ready. OK?"

You kiss me gently and warmly with your hand on my cheek. "Thank you."

"And we should both drink some water," I add. "We're going to get dehydrated. We've been losing a lot of fluids lately." I smile.

You look at my face for a second and then smile back at me. "Thank you." You press yourself into me and kiss me deeply.

"Anything," I say when you pull away. Then I smack you hard on your ass again, making you yelp and jump.

You punch me in the chest, but not hard, and you're smiling. I watch as you walk away, a red impression of my hand jiggling on your butt cheek as you go. When you reach the door, you turn to look at me again and smile, before disappearing inside.

I go to the kitchen and start looking for the ingredients and utensils I need. I slice up some strawberries and cucumbers. I put some of the strawberries on a plate. The rest go into a glass along with the cucumber. I fill it with cold water and I bring it to you in the bathroom. You're just getting out of the shower and I stare at you some more while you dry off.

"Stop it," you warn me. "Don't get any ideas."

I put the water on your vanity. "I have so many ideas right now. Here, drink this. All of it."

"I will. Thank you again."

I go back to the kitchen and whip up some eggs with a little garlic and some fresh tarragon I find in the fridge. I add a slice of sharp white cheddar to the plate with the eggs and strawberries. I carry the plate back to the bathroom. You've put on a matching set of lacy red bra and panties. I Wish I could see your ass in them. You're sitting at the vanity putting on makeup.

"Oh my God," you tell me when I walk in. "This is so good." You point at the glass that now only has strawberries and cucumbers in it. "Can I get some more, please?" You bat your eyelashes at me and smile demurely.

"Anything," I say smiling. "What about this? Do you want to eat it in here while you get ready, or eat it when you're done?"

"Oh, wow. In here would be great. Thanks."

I put the plate down on the vanity off to the side.

"Whoa," you say when you see it. "That looks fantastic. And it smells great." You put your makeup down to look at me. "You are so...Thank you."

"You've been saying that a lot this morning. You never have to tell me that."

"Maybe I feel particularly thankful this morning."

We look at each other lovingly for a few seconds and then I raise my hands up to just below my face. I making a fucking motion with my fingers—one finger going in and out of a hole I've made with my other fingers. I raise my eyebrows, asking a question.

"Ugh," you say rolling your eyes. "Go away." I hear you laughing as I leave the bathroom.

I go refill your glass with cold water and bring it back. Then I finish getting dressed in the clothes I wore the day before. I go back to the kitchen to clean up. I'm just finishing when you come out. You're wearing a long flowing, predominantly white, floral print dress, cinched at the waist, and reaching about to your knees. It buttons down the front at the top, but you have only a modest amount of cleavage showing. You have on black 2-inch heels and a matching black purse. Your hair is pulled back into a ponytail that's curled on the end. Again, you look amazing.

I look at you and just go, "Phwa."

"Oh come on. A church outfit? What doesn't make you horny?"

"What can I say, you make everything look sexy. I also like being the only one that knows you're still wearing red." I smile mischievously.

"You're bad," you tell me with a smile. "I like it. You know you don't have to do that," you say, pointing to the cleaned dishes on the counter behind me.

"I figured. But I had nothing to do while I waited since I'm not allowed to watch you because I'll get horny."

You walk around the counter to me and get close, looking up at me. "Thank you, Sean. For everything." You kiss me again and I run my hands over your body through your church clothes. "Come on. I'll take you to your car."

--

I spend another restless morning eating and then doing chores around the house and thinking about you. I call my wife and talk to the kids. They tell me all about their adventures at the beach while my wife complains and groans in frustration in the background. I miss the kids, and I tell them that, and how much I love them. But I'm also glad I'm not there listening to my wife complain and spoil what could be, what should be, a very pleasant day.

At the appointed time I jump into the shower and clean myself thoroughly. I think about your tongue being on me as I wash every part of myself, for you. I gather up some surprises I have for you and throw them into a backpack. Then I hurry out to meet you at the time and place we arranged earlier. It's a small coffee shop somewhere between our two parts of town. It's not a big chain so there's little chance of running into any of your friends there. I admit to you that I wouldn't mind running into Nicole again, though.

"I bet," is your response. But you say it without jealousy.

At the coffee shop I get a latte and wait for you, playing on my phone like everyone else there. You arrive about 15 minutes later. You come over and give me a quick kiss before you go to the counter to get yourself a drink and a muffin. Back at the table you tell me a little about church and putting in an appearance. You made sure to mingle a little after the service, telling people how bored you were with the kids out of the house. Everyone seems to know about you and John by now, and you end up getting sick of their fake sympathy. You know the wives' real concern is that they could end up like you, and the husband's real concern is that they could get caught like John.

"So did you get wet while you were listening to the preacher?" I ask mischievously.

"Maybe. A little," you admit acting demure. "I tried very hard to pay attention. The sermon was on fidelity." You make a sour face.

"Ooooh," I agree.

"So," you change the subject. "I thought we could do a little shopping before our appointment at 1:00."

"Oh," I say, surprised. "I thought we'd get some lunch beforehand. Aren't we going to be there for four hours?"

You wave off my concerns. "We can eat there," you inform me.

I realize this is going to be a spa experience like one I've never had before. "OK. But what are we shopping for?"

"You'll see, baby." You smile wickedly.

I hurry up and finish my latte. I can't wait to see what you have planned. I'm impatient and try to get you to hurry too.

"C'mon, c'mon. Let's go," I urge, handing you your cup. I'm being playful and exaggerating my impatience, but I really am eager to go.

You play along, laughing at me. "Settle down," you scold, "Or you'll have to wait in the car."

I pout, and you laugh again.

When we leave we take your car, but not before I grab my backpack.

"What do you have in there?"

"You'll see, baby," I say simply.

"Oh ho!" You laugh, raising an eyebrow. "Touche!"

"The wheel turns however slowly, my friend," I say cackling and rubbing my hands together.

"It sure does."

--

We arrive at one of those swanky malls on the west-side of town. "Huh," I say. You just smile. It's busy and I assume we're going to have to park a ways away and walk. But I forget who I'm with and where I'm at. You drive right up to one of the main entrances where there's a valet stand. We get out and walk right into the mall. No fuss, no muss.

"This is a nice way to live," I tell you as you come around the car to me. I start to put my arm around your waist and walk into the mall with you full of pride. But then I remember that I can't do that,and pull it away. The brief touch of your waist through the soft fabric of your dress is still enough to send shivers through me though.

"I has its advantages." You smile. "But believe me, it doesn't make you happy. You just have a whole set of other problems to deal with."

"I dig it."

You look at me. You still have sunglasses on, so I can't tell for sure, but I think you're making a funny face at me.

"What?"

"Nothing," you assure me with a smile. "I like your style."

We walk in and you lead me through the mall. You have a particular destination in mind. We stop in front of a decorously carved, large wooden door in the middle of a long wall made out of the same yellow brick as the rest of the building. There are no windows. In unlit, small, black letters above the door, it says, 'Cuir et Dentelle'. If I had been walking through the mall without you, I probably would not even have noticed this place.

"What's this? Is it a dog dentists' office?"

You laugh and lean in conspiratorially. "It says 'Leather and Lace'".

My eyebrows go up. "Ohhhhh." I smile.

"I made us an appointment to use one of their private dressing rooms. You wait here while I make sure nobody I know is in there. If I don't come out in two minutes then come in. I'll wait for you in the back."

You look around us before you disappear behind the big door. It all feels very cloak-and-dagger. I'm excited. I look at my phone to note the time. I feel like just staring at it while I wait for two minutes to tick by, but that'll take forever, so I do a little people watching. After two minutes I tear the heavy door off its hinges and sprint to the back of the store. At least that's what it feels like. I don't even take note of the racks of lacy lingerie, or the sexily dressed mannequins, or the beautiful and slender sales women.

When I reach you, I bend over and put my hands on my knees, panting heavily. "OK," I pant between breaths. I swallow hard and continue panting. "I think it's been two minutes. I'm ready."

You laugh and slap me on the arm. "Stop it, you're embarrassing me." But you're still smiling.

"You're about to get naked in this store," I point out. "Why are you embarrassed now?"

"Right? I am, but still I'm embarrassed. How strange."

You give me a look and then motion to someone behind me. We're soon joined by a tall, slim, beautiful woman. Her hair is pulled back tight into a ponytail. She has a white blouse, open low, showing a black lacy bra covering small breasts of milky white skin, and a tight black skirt that stops a few inches above her knees. She's wearing hose, which I'm sure are silk stockings and not panty hose, and some long black heels. She doesn't look at me, and she doesn't smile. She seems kind of bored.

"Madame?" She's French.

"My husband is here. We're ready now."

My heart flutters a little when I hear you call me your husband.

"Tres bon. Follow me please." She continues as we walk. "I have laid out some things to your specifications in the dressing area. Please use the intercom to let me know if you need anything else." She stops and turns to us indicating a door on her right. "And Madame, Monsieur, let me remind you, no faire l'amour in the dressing room, please." She turns and we both watch her walk off before entering the room.

As we walk in I grab you around the waist and pull you towards me. I kiss you, exploring your mouth with my tongue.

After a minute I stop. "Do they have any cameras in here?"

"Absolutely not. You can't even get in here without giving them your name and a credit card number, so there's no need. But in case you didn't catch it, she said no fucking in the dressing room."

I look hurt. "Fucking? We're not fucking. Oh no, have you forgotten what fucking is? Has it been so long?"

"Mmmmm," you purr. You flick my lips with your tongue. "It has been a long time, but I haven't forgotten. I'm just warning you. You agreed. Remember?"

I kiss you again. "Alright," I concede.

"Go sit down." You point to a red velvet sofa on the side wall. Next to it is one of those arrays of mirrors set in a quarter-circle. On the opposite wall is a small room with a curtain over the doorway.

"Oh look," I say. "A couch." I wiggle my eyebrows at you.

"Sit!"

I go over to the couch and you disappear behind the curtain. You emerge a few minutes later making me instantly hard. You're wearing a powder-blue baby doll. The top part is a lace that cups your breasts and covers you chest up to your throat where it connects to a silk ribbon around your neck.The bottom half is silk in a matching color that falls down to just below your waist. The middle is open from the bottom up to the silk band that runs all the way around you under your breasts. At the bottom, the silk is fringed with more lace. Below that you're wearing panties made from the same lace attached to a string that goes around your waist. You turn around to show me that the panties are a thong, a string emerges from the top of your butt crack. The silk is open here too giving me a full view of your beautiful ass and lower back.

I don't say anything. I'm just drinking you in. I imagine touching your exposed stomach and back. Running my hands over your ass. Slipping my hand in between your legs, feeling the soft lace and finding the soaking wet string between your labia.