I expected to hear from Michelle right away, maybe even as soon as Monday night, to let me know about her coming home plans. She'd implied that she could be home this coming Friday and I haven't been so anxious about anything in my life before!
Tuesday morning, I was in my office looking at a house plan, going over it so that our office manager could issue the building permit when my office phone rang. I answered it as I always do, "Building Codes, this is Bob, may I help you?"
"Hi," was the sweet, feminine response from the other end. It was the voice I'd been wanting to hear for so long, my wife.
My heart rate doubled in about half a second. I'd thought about this phone call for so long and my mind went totally numb, "Hi," was the only thing that would come out of my mouth.
"I told him last night," she told me.
I needed to know specifically what she'd told him, "What did you say?"
"That I had a husband who I loved and loved me. That I was going home to my sweetheart."
That brought tears to my eyes. I wiped my eyes and asked her, "How did he take it? How did you tell him?"
She paused a little before answering, "I was sitting on his lap...Naked...With his cock inside me...He was still dressed."
She seemed reserved like it had been hard for her. "How did he react?"
"He fucked me, hard!"
"Did he hurt you?" I asked.
"No, it was good, really good! We both came harder than we ever have before."
"He wasn't mad, then?"
"No, just disappointed. He wanted me to stay really bad."
My biggest burning question was, "What now? Are you coming home now, then?"
Her answer surprised me, "I can't yet. I need to be here until at least a week from Friday, possibly a little longer." Then, a very quiet, "I'm sorry."
That answer didn't please me! I didn't understand why she couldn't come home now. I asked her, "Why?"
"Sweetheart, you have to trust me a little longer. There's a reason, but I can't tell you yet."
I groaned in frustration. I wanted her home and I didn't understand! I asked her, "Are you going to keep sleeping with him?"
She hesitated before answering, "I won't if you don't want me to."
I suggested to her, "I know that Kristen has a spare bedroom. Maybe you could call her and see about staying there until you come home?"
She quietly responded, "Okay, I can do that if you want me to."
I thought about it, wondering if that was what I really wanted. "You don't sound like that'd make you too happy."
"Honey, I will if you want it."
Her willingness made up my mind for me, "No, I think I'd rather you keep sleeping with him. I saw how much you enjoy being with him."
She perked up, "I do! A lot," she said. She went on, "Thank you, honey, I love you, you know."
Hearing those words from Michelle almost made me cry. It had been so long since I heard them. "I love you too, sweetheart."
I wanted to keep her on the phone forever. Unfortunately, real life intervened. I saw that I had a customer waiting, and I was supposed to be working. I told her I had to go and she told me that she'd let me know as soon as she could confirm when she was coming home. The thought that there was light at the end of the tunnel made me smile when we told each other goodbye.
My customer wanted to know what was required for the guardrail on the deck she was building and whether or not she needed a building permit.
After she left I checked my calendar. A week from Friday would be August twelfth, nearly two months after Michelle had left and three months after we'd last made love. I have no idea how to convey how anxious I was for that day to finally come!
I managed to get through the next week, marking every day on the calendar. The following Wednesday, she sent an e-mail. "Will be flying into Seattle on Friday. Meet me at the Four Seasons Hotel, in the lobby at seven. Wear something nice, we'll be going out to celebrate. Oh, and please bring your car. I'm so anxious, Love, Michelle."
Meet her in the hotel lobby? I wanted to pick her up at the airport. I wondered why she'd want me to bring my old Corolla too, the Accord's a lot more comfortable for long drives. That didn't matter, though. The only thing that mattered was only two more days! Finally, the end of the longest and loneliest two months of my life was almost here!
The trip from Kennewick to Seattle had never seemed longer to me. Yet, it was the most enjoyable trip I'd ever taken. I knew that in just a few hours I'd be reunited with my wife, for real this time. She also asked me to wear something nice. I hadn't known for sure what that meant but wore my one and only suit. I'd only worn it twice before, once to a dance with Ginger and the other time to Jacqui's wedding. This reunion was far more important to me than both of those events combined, so what else could I wear?
I waited in the lobby of the grandest hotel I'd ever been in. I'd arrived at six-thirty. The seconds were ticking by, and my heart was pounding a hole in my chest.
I waited, never taking my eyes away from the elevator doors, scanning from one to the other, hoping every time that one opened, that it was her that'd be stepping out. I'd made it a point to set my watch before I left home, to the very second. The hands continued to move, the second hand slowly winding its way around, time and time again. When it showed 6:59 and started that last circle, I could barely breathe. The elevator door opened...and there she stood, my wife!
I couldn't move. I wanted to go to her, but my rubbery legs wouldn't let me move. I must have been ten or twelve feet from the elevator door, it was off to my left a little bit. How long did it take Michelle to move those ten or twelve feet? I have no idea, it seemed in slow motion. Then she was there, in my arms. I burst into tears with happiness, just as I am writing this now. Right this second, tears are flowing down my cheeks remembering that instant, that glorious moment in time with my wife in my arms!
Michelle's cheeks were wet. I had no idea if it was from my own tears or hers as well? I hugged this woman as I've never hugged her in my life. Then I started kissing her face. I kissed every inch of that beautiful face, and then her lips. Oh God, those wonderful lips! The fact that another man, who wanted her for his own wife, had been kissing those lips for the last two months never entered into my mind. My Michelle was home...in my arms! Her arms were around my neck and mine around her, our lips together at last!
She stepped back. Tears were flowing down her cheeks. Her first words, "I think we ruined my makeup." We both burst into laughter!
Then I saw her, actually saw her. This was the most beautiful woman in the world. I'm not just saying that because she was my wife, or that I'd missed her so much, but because she was. She was more beautiful than I'd ever seen her. Her skin was bronzed from the Caribbean sun, her fabulous hair was a beautiful golden blonde with curled tendrils on each side of her face, and her dress...how do I describe the dress she was wearing?
It was leather; a soft, thin, snow-white leather that fit her as if it had been formed specifically for her body. In fact, I was sure it had to have been made explicitly for her. There wasn't a single wrinkle or crease. It fit her breasts as if it wasn't even there, every curve showing as if she was standing naked in front of me.
She turned slightly so I could see the back. It was bare from right below her neck to the small of her back, a large oval cut-out. The hem was about eight inches above her knees. Below that, she had on shiny, black boots with at least a four-inch heel. The boots were as skin tight as the dress, extending to just below her knees, with her gold anklet hanging over one, still on her left ankle. Above her boots were silky, smoky black stockings, with their lacy top just barely exposed below the dress's hemline, contrasting with the solid white of her dress.
Her body was even more perfect than I remembered. I had no idea how a forty-year-old woman could look like my Michelle did at that moment!
I couldn't speak, but mouthed the words, "I love you," to her.
She smiled, that dazzling smile I've seen on her face so many times, and said, "I love you too."
That seemed to break the trance I was in. Michelle took my hand and squeezed it for the first time since the middle of May. I don't remember the exact date she'd last squeezed my hand like that. She told me she had to fix her makeup, then we had dinner reservations at the Four-Seasons Restaurant. I was reluctant to let her out of my sight, even to go to the ladies' room for a moment. It seemed like a dream that she was there, and I didn't want that dream to suddenly disappear as so many had in the last eight long weeks.
I understood why she wanted to meet me here, instead of the airport. This was special, a place for lovers to reunite, where she could prepare and dress for the special occasion. I realized this was as important and meaningful for her as it was for me.
She didn't disappear. In a few minutes, she was with me again. The tear streaks were gone, her smeared lipstick repaired and her make-up impeccable once again. It wouldn't have mattered to me. She was so beautiful she didn't need anything to make herself more so. That was when I noticed the fragrance of her perfume, the same perfume I'd fallen so in love with from her lingerie drawer.
She led me to the hotel's restaurant. An impeccably clad host greeted us with a smile, and said, "Good evening, thank you for dining with us." Then he bowed slightly and said, "This way Madam." It appeared he was familiar with my wife.
He led us to a table, alongside the window overlooking the harbor. The view was fantastic. Then, I looked out the window and saw the other view, of the beautiful boats in the harbor, sailboats, yachts and large motorboats. This definitely wasn't a "poor-mans" harbor. It wasn't dark yet, but I could imagine what it would be like with the lights of the City and the boats shimmering on the water at sunset in a few hours.
He asked us what we would like to drink, and left us menus, which sat on the table unopened.
My attention was still on the primary view, the one sitting across the table from me, the beautiful one. She asked me, "So, you found my letters, my little game?"
"I did, that first Friday. I thought maybe the feel of your lingerie on my fingers would help with my loneliness." I told her, "They were the only things that kept me sane. The whole time. I have your pictures framed all over the house."
She cocked her head, "I thought Diana would help with that."
I wasn't ready to tell her about Shaun and Diana yet but did tell her, "No, that didn't work out. I didn't exactly tell you the truth. After that first time I slept with her, she told me she couldn't do it again, that she couldn't sleep with someone she couldn't have, and she knew I was yours. We didn't see each other again after that."
She looked at me in shock, "So..you...didn't have anyone?"
"I had your letters to look forward to. I wanted to cheat every time but was glad I didn't. They kept me in contact with you, except at the end when they were gone."
"I thought I'd be home after that, that four were enough." Besides, she smiled, "I didn't know what else to hide." She went on, "I don't know if I'll ever forgive myself for not getting ahold of you right away."
"You're home now, though. That's all that matters to me."
Then I laughed a little bit about her scavenger hunt, "You found the best hiding places. In plain sight, in your printer for crying out loud! I knew what that last one would be, but had no idea where to look without cheating, and in the DVD player? What if I'd have wanted to watch a movie?"
Michelle giggled, "But you didn't, did you?" Then she asked, "Did you like the movie I left?"
My eyes wandered off a little, then back to her, "It was a little extreme, wasn't it? Didn't that hurt when he pulled your hair so hard?"
"I don't know. I was a little busy to notice," she giggled.
"Anyway, to answer your question, yeah, I loved it!"
"It turned out to be a little bit of an extreme night. One that I hadn't been expecting." She paused a few seconds before she went on, "It was fun, a little more than I expected might happen at a dance." Then she told me, "I hoped my second letter didn't tease a little too much."
I laughed, "It got my attention! I think you got the result you wanted. I was hard like a rock after reading it!" I thought back to that night, "Only for a little while, though." Then I got a little more serious, "But yeah, it scared me. After you were gone for two weeks, I was already pretty nervous about you being with him, then that letter. Looking back, though, I'm glad you did it, you really made me think about what we'd done."
As much as I enjoyed talking about that night with her, there was another question that had been burning into me, for the last month! "You and Brett, how did you leave that? What happened when you said you were going home?"
She looked away and paused before answering, "He wasn't happy. I know he's in love with me, but I think he understood. He's a good man. I hope he eventually finds someone he can marry to make him as happy as he deserves."
"What about you, your feelings for him?"
Her voice was soft, nearly a whisper, "I like him...a lot. If I wasn't already married to another wonderful man..."
I had to ask, "Do you think you'll see him again?"
She nodded her head, "I don't know. I hope so. He does quite a bit of business in Seattle. I asked him to let me know whenever he's going to be here."
I'd be okay with that, but another thing, "Do you think he'll want to take you on another trip?"
She looked into my eyes, "If he does, what would you say?"
She'd put me back on the spot. I took a breath before answering, "I don't know, maybe not a month...but something shorter? Maybe."
She nodded her approval. Then she suggested, "Maybe if he does, I might suggest he invite Kristen...and her boyfriend."
I thought back to that night with Kristen and told her, "Worse things could happen than spending a couple weeks with her."
I asked another question I had been curious about, "Your escort business, do you plan to re-start that?"
She shook her head, "I don't know, I don't think so. I'm not sure I could. I think I might see if my firm was sincere about me coming back if things didn't work out."
I knew I'd like that. I didn't like losing her every week and didn't want something like the last three months to happen again. I nodded my approval, "I'd like that." I told her.
She said, "I want to call Jeremy, see how he's doing. I hope he has a girlfriend, maybe the girl from the restaurant. I need to see Shaun too. I missed him."
I was afraid to tell her, but this was probably as good a time as any. "About Shaun, after Diana told me what she had, about wanting someone permanently, I thought about Shaun...I sort of suggested to him that he might want to call her."
Michelle was looking at me with her eyes wide, "And?"
I didn't want to say it, but knew I had to, "I think they're falling in love."
Michelle looked away, out the window into the harbor, for a long time. I sat watching her, waiting for her response. She looked on the verge of crying again. She finally responded, still looking out at the harbor, "It's okay. I think I'd like that, a lot like you and Jacqui. They're both so good and I think they could be happy together." She kept looking out the window and I noticed her wiping a little tear from her cheek.
To break her tension a little I picked up my menu and told her I was starting to get hungry. I was hungry all right, for my wife! But I knew that would come later...I planned to savor that delectable morsel all night! For now, though, my tummy was grumbling. It had been a long, stressful afternoon and evening and I hadn't been able to eat since I left home. We had already been sitting there for forty-five minutes and hadn't even looked at the menus yet, just sipping at our ice tea and diet coke.
The waiter noticed us finally checking the menus. When we set them back down, he came and took our orders. Afterward, I asked her, "You said you left something out of the book you wrote about that night. What was it?"
She looked a little uncomfortable, "Can it wait until tomorrow? I don't want to talk about that tonight."
I nodded, more than a little uncertain what it might be.
Michelle told me, "I was a little shocked that night when you appeared on Brett's door with Kristen. How did you manage that?"
I told her about what happened after I got the first e-mail from Brett, how I thought of Kristen's phone number, calling her and her suggesting I fly out.
She said, "It looked like you and Kristen had a pretty good time together?"
"Yeah, other than the giant elephant in the room, I did like her, quite a bit."
That was when the waiter brought our food and set it in front of us. My steak was good, but I admit, not like the one in Chicago had been. Michelle and I ate quietly, occasionally catching glances of each other. It was really hard for me to avert my eyes away from her, even for a moment. Our waiter had a hard time with it too, every time he refilled our drinks, or asked how our food was, it was obvious where his eyes were. I couldn't blame him either!
Michelle noticed too, she said, "I need to tell you why I had to wait the extra week."
"No, you don't," I told her, "You're here and that's all that matters to me."
"But I want to tell you," she went on, "After you left, I knew I wanted something special for homecoming. I got Kristen's number from Brett and called her to ask if she knew where I could get a dress made."
"I explained to her what I wanted. She picked me up and took me to a little dress-making shop she knew about, and I told them what I wanted. They were nice and said they could do it, but it'd take a couple weeks." She held her arms out, and said, "This is it, the reason for the extra week." Then she added, "It was a little over four thousand dollars."
"Sweetheart," I told her, "It's beautiful, more than worth an extra week. I've never seen anything like it."
After dinner, the waiter asked if we'd like dessert. I looked at Michelle and nearly blurted out that mine was sitting across from me. Not sure Michelle would have appreciated my humor.
We both told him, "No thank you," then Michelle said she'd like to dance. I wanted to skip past the dancing but also wanted to honor whatever she wanted. At least this time I could hold her the way I wanted!
The hotel had a bar down the hall from the restaurant. We walked in and there was a small band playing some soft rock music. It's an upper-class, expensive hotel, so the customers in the bar were mostly a little older. We didn't see anyone who looked like they were less than thirty or so. We sat at a table, and an attractive barmaid stopped to take an order within only a minute or so. Michelle ordered a strawberry daiquiri and I ordered the only thing I actually know what it is, a Singapore sling. After she brought our drinks, we each took a sip or two, and I asked Michelle to dance with me.
What a difference from how we'd had to dance together in Chicago. Michelle wrapped her arms around my neck and I pulled her close with my arms around her back. We shuffled around the floor, looking into each other's eyes and occasionally kissing. I couldn't get over how good the feel of her was through her soft leather dress. Other than a couple minutes in front of the elevator, this was the first time I'd actually held her in my arms since our last night making love, May 16th, only four days short of three months earlier.
We spent a couple hours sipping our drink, dancing, kissing and holding each other, eventually ordering another for each of us. Michelle told me a little more about her trip, what she did on those first few days after getting to Miami. She'd switched hotels the first day to the Four Seasons, Brett's favorite hotel. Looking at the hotel we were in at the moment, I could certainly understand why. It's something Michelle and I would never have been able to afford.
He'd sent one of his older assistant ladies, Julie, to help her shop for clothes and she had a massage every day. "They were intended to be sexual massages, one each day. I was blindfolded and never saw the person doing it." She told me, "I went into the masseuse's back room, was blindfolded, then was stripped naked. I'm assuming it was a woman because her hands were so soft and felt small, but I never even knew that for sure."
I know what you're probably wondering, we had been apart all these months...why aren't we upstairs in our room making love instead of in the bar dancing and talking? It was like we needed this time together, this date, to reconnect with each other, to recover a little from the emotional upheaval. I knew that "upstairs making love", would come before the night was over, but was content to savor our evening together first.
"She always used some type of feminine smelling body oil on her hands. She'd massage my body all over until I'd be almost hysterical with wanting to come. She always seemed to know when she had to stop so I wouldn't."
"Afterward, I'd still be sexually charged and Julie would take me shopping, every day. Everything we bought was pretty and sexy. I even had a make-up coach to show me new things to do with my makeup and a hair stylist. We must have spent ten or fifteen thousand dollars in those four days."
I was mesmerized by what Michelle was telling me about her first few days, but I wanted to be touching her, so asked her to dance with me some more. I'm not a particularly good dancer unless it's square dancing, but we didn't really dance. We mostly held each other and shuffled around the floor, somewhat in time with the music.
While we were dancing, I asked her about the first time with Brett, what had that been like? "Another time sweetheart, I'll tell you about it, but not tonight, okay?"
I reluctantly agreed and tightened my grip, pulling my woman closer to me. She apparently couldn't help teasing a little because she said, "All I'll say for now is that it was worth it, for both of us."
I'd decided I was ready to take my wife up to her room, our room. When I suggested it, she got this big grin on her face, kissed me on the cheek and said, "Me too." I paid the bill for our two drinks each, leaving a nice tip for the barmaid who'd been so nice.
She led me by the hand back to the elevator. It was amusing to watch the disappointment on the men's faces as we left. They'd obviously been enjoying the view. Even though it had happened so many times before, that night I felt especially proud that it was me this beautiful woman was leaving with.
Walking behind her, I was privileged to the view everyone else had been given that evening; the big cutout showing her bare back, recently tanned from her Caribbean trip, and I realized with no bikini strap line to mar her perfect tan. I wondered how much of the trip she'd been topless. There was so much she still had to tell me from that month. Even her walk in those high-heeled boots was erotic. The vast amount of leg shown between the top of her boots and the dress's hemline was so incredibly sexy.
I had been turned on all evening in the restaurant and bar, but by the time we arrived at the elevator, probably ten times more so. Standing in the elevator, our hands intertwined, my heart was probably beating a couple hundred beats per minute. Her room was on the eighteenth floor. As fast as the elevator moved, those eighteen floors seemed like an eternity.
We arrived at the door and Michelle swiped the key card. This seemed so different than the dozens of other times we've entered a hotel room together. I'm not sure how to explain how I felt: Trepidation, a little fear that I wouldn't stack up to the lover she'd been with the last eight weeks or so; a longing for her that went to my very soul; or just plain horny for the woman I loved. I guess all of them and several more that I have no clue how to articulate. I guess the most accurate description is that I wanted her. I wanted her with every fiber of my body!
Michelle adjusted the bedside lamps, which surprisingly each had a dimmer so that they were throwing a soft glow through the room.
The blinds for the large picture window overlooking the harbor below were open. I'd commented earlier on what the view would be like after dark. With the City lights reflecting off the bay and the lighted boats and ships, it was even more beautiful than I'd expected. I started to close the blinds when Michelle interrupted me, "No," she said, "Leave them open."
She stepped over to the window with me, looking out the window. "Remember that night, when you pretended to have the blinds open?" She looked back into my eyes, "This time for real." She reached behind her neck and undid the one button holding her dress in place, letting it fall away from her, then pushing it to the floor, leaving her clad only in her tiny thong panties, boots and smoky, lace topped, black stockings, to feast my eyes upon for the first time in eight weeks. My breath caught in my throat. I'd been imaging this moment for nearly every second of those long eight weeks!
Michelle and I took a step toward each other. She started to unbutton my shirt, her favorite that I owned; a light blue, nylon shirt that she enjoys next to her skin like I enjoy her silk next to mine. I stood, letting her unbutton it and push it off my shoulders. I'm sure my body doesn't compare with her lover's, but apparently, it's the man she loves and that's all that mattered to me.
When she'd removed my shirt, she unbuttoned my slacks, pushing them and my boxers down together. I slipped my shoes off and let my clothes fall to the floor. I saw the same eagerness in Michelle's face that I know had to be showing on mine. When I was naked and she was nearly naked, we made that last step together and kissed. Hands traveling over bodies, re-discovering each other, tongues exploring each other's mouths, I felt her bare breasts against my chest, all lightly backlit against the open drapes.
We kissed as we hadn't kissed in months, since long before our forced abstinence. I'm not sure that we've ever kissed as we did in those moments. It was a kiss of love, of passion, of lust, born out of a long separation and desire. Her lips hadn't ever been as sweet as that kiss. I wanted her so damn badly!
Together, we took the few steps to the bed. Michelle lay down and I unzipped her boots, slipped them down and then her panties off of her. I left the silk stockings, they felt so damn good!
I couldn't resist a moment longer. I lay down with her, kissed her and my cock slipped inside her. God, I've never felt anything so good as Michelle's hot, wet, slippery pussy! We both groaned loudly, and Michelle wrapped her legs around me at the same time as she thrust her hips up to meet mine.
It was better than any time we'd ever made love. I'd honestly been afraid this moment in time might never come again. Now that it was here, and I was actually inside my wife. I was beyond ecstatic. I would love to honestly be able to say here that I was an Adonis, and gave Michelle several orgasms before I came. I could I guess, because I'm the one writing this and I could exaggerate. But it wouldn't be anywhere near the truth. I'd hoped to stretch this moment out to five, ten minutes or maybe even longer. In reality, though, I'd been so sexually aroused from our evening together, and the fact this was our first time in three months, I felt the familiar orgasm coming on almost instantly. We thrust together for perhaps a minute, probably less, until I exploded inside her. It was perhaps the most powerful orgasm I'd ever had.
I didn't think Michelle had come to an orgasm. Yet, I was satisfied that she too was satisfied with the love expressed in our consummation. We made love twice more during the night. I know that both those times Michelle orgasmed along with me, as I felt her vagina tightening around me and her body shuddering with her orgasms.
You might recall how I'd imagined her and Brett making love after I read her second letter; spooned together, Michelle in front with her leg stretched out over Brett's body and his cock inside her from behind. That's how we did it one of the times that night, with that image of her and Brett firmly implanted in my mind while we did it. I had my hand on the inside of her thigh, pulling her legs further apart, exactly like I'd imagined Brett doing.
In the morning, I awoke to Michelle coaxing me out of bed to shower with her. She was gently coaxing by pounding her pillow on my head and laughing. I covered my head with my hands and she pounded the rest of my body, back to her playful self. In all the years of our marriage, we'd probably showered together a total of five or six times. We did that morning.
We giggled, washing each other's girl and boy parts, and I felt Michelle's lips wrapped around my cock, sliding all the way down her throat with the hot water running over us. After a moment or two with my cock down Michelle's throat and her lips massaging the base, I felt like I had a steel rod with a billion nerve endings down her throat. She pulled her mouth off me, giggled that she thought I was ready, turned to face the tile of the shower, spread her legs apart, arms out supporting herself, turned her head back toward me, and said, "Time to fuck me this time!"
Oh God, was I ready! She was so sexy at that moment, hair and body dripping wet from the hot shower water running on both of us, legs spread apart and begging to be fucked! I reached down, positioned my cock at her entrance and rammed it home, all the way up inside her in one motion, eliciting a long, drawn out, "Oh...Gawd!" from my wife. I reached around, grabbing at her tits and pounded up into her as hard as I could.
"How many times did you do this with your lover?" I managed to utter to her as I plunged up inside her, taking her to her tippy-toes with every thrust.
"Too many to count!" She squeaked back to me.
Oh God, the vision of that god of a man doing this to my wife over and over again, probably much harder and better than I could drove me like a madman! We'd made love three times in the last few hours. This time we were fucking like a man and woman were intended! Michelle was spewing out, "Oh Gawd, Oh Shit, Harder!" and I was doing my best to accommodate her.
Michelle's body started to spasm, and my cum started spurting with an intensity I can't even begin to describe. A moment later, we both found ourselves on the floor of the shower in each other's arms trying to remember how to breathe.
ooOoo
Later that morning, we were back down in the restaurant eating breakfast, when Michelle brought up something I'd completely forgotten about, "You remember I said there was something I left out of my story from that night?" she asked me.
I'd just stuffed a bite of ham in my mouth, so I nodded. I'd forgotten about it but now remembered it clearly.
"After we dressed, and Jeremy and I were ready to go, we started talking. They'd noticed my wedding ring and someone asked me about my husband, how you felt about me doing the things we'd done earlier..." She went on, "I told them about originally telling you about Mike, and how you encouraged me to have that weekend with him."
I knew she wasn't finished, so I sat quietly waiting for her to go on with what was obviously on her mind. "Being in the college setting we were in...I got a little nostalgic about Mike...and, I guess to make a long story short, I've been really curious about him."
She was obviously getting nervous telling me this story. "What I've been trying to say, is that I'd like to call him sometime, see how he's doing, if he's married yet?"
I processed that for a minute, remembering why she'd left him that last time. She'd had an affair with him for several months until he wanted more, all of her. He'd insisted that she leave me and move in with him. I'd been really afraid then but was much more secure with her now. I thought that if she wanted to meet him one more time, to see how he was doing, it'd be fine with me.
"Why don't you call him then. Invite him to dinner with you, so you could have a good visit with him."
"I don't know about that, I don't think I want to start something with him again."
I hate to admit it here, but I was starting to get an evil thought in my mind, "You wouldn't have to. You could just visit and reminisce. Find out what's been happening in his life." Then I suggested, "Why don't you call him now, see if he's available to go to dinner with you tonight?"
"Honey, are you sure? I just got back. I should be with you this weekend. Besides, I don't have anything to wear. We'd have to go shopping and I have something else I want to do this afternoon."
Now, my evil thought was coming to the forefront. "You could wear what you wore last night. In fact, I'd love it if you did. You'd have to make it clear to him beforehand, though, that it would only be for dinner."
She looked at me for a long moment. "You want me to wear that dress...with my ex-lover, the man I've never been able to say 'no' to?"
I reminded her, "You said no to him once, a pretty big no as I recall. And yeah, I'd love for you to wear that on a dinner date with him."
She sat, looking into my face for several minutes, until she picked up her phone, scrolled through some numbers, clicked on one, and put the phone to her ear. I hadn't realized she still had his number in her phone but wasn't surprised. I waited, listening.
Shortly she said into the phone, "Hi...Mike, it's Michelle." I couldn't hear the other end of the conversation, only hers. "No, I've been thinking about you a little lately, and was wondering how you're doing?" There was another long pause, then, "That's too bad. I was hoping you'd found someone by now." "Uhh, yeah, I am in Seattle right now...That'd be great, I'd love to have dinner with you. Why don't you meet me here at my hotel, the Four Seasons, say about eight?" Then she added, "But Mike, it's just for dinner, okay? Nothing else...Great, I'll be looking forward to it, see you this evening."
She clicked to end the call. "I hope you're really okay with it because he's meeting me here tonight," she told me.
I reassured her, "I'm fine." Then I smiled at her, "I get you the rest of the night!"
I remembered something she'd said before she called. "You said you had something you wanted to do this afternoon?"
"A little surprise, something I've wanted to do for a long time. Let's finish eating and go for a ride."
I was more than a little perplexed but we did as she suggested and finished our meal. After breakfast, we jumped in my Corolla and she directed me to Renton, still not telling me where we were going. She had an address, though, that she put into our GPS. When we found the address, I was surprised that it was a Mazda dealership. She directed me into their parking lot and after parking, told me, "Sweetheart, we are going to trade your Corolla in for a new car."
I looked at her with what had to be a dumb, shit-eating grin on my face, "We're what? But, but, but..."
We got out and a salesman greeted us as soon as we were in the dealership. I let Michelle do the talking since I hadn't a clue what we were doing. "Hi," she said, "We're looking for a Miata, a convertible."
She told him very specifically what "we" were looking for, a bright red Miata convertible, leather seats, navigation system, everything. He smiled and said he was sure he had exactly the one we were looking for. When he was leading us to it, I whispered in Michelle's ear, "Sweetheart, how are we paying for this?"
"Trust me," she said, "We're okay."
Okay, I'll trust her, I thought, as I tagged along. They actually had a row of several Miatas. The one he was looking for was near the end of the line, bright red, tan leather interior, convertible Grand Touring. It was only a two-seater, so Michelle took it on a test drive with the salesman. They returned a half-hour later and we went into a sales room to negotiate. Again, I let Michelle handle it completely. They were asking a little over $32,000. She negotiated it down about fifteen-hundred dollars.
While this was going on, they had been assessing our trade-in, my 2006 Corolla. The salesman showed us the Kelly Blue Book value of $2,940 and offered $3,000. Michelle told him we'd take it, but we'd need to get them the title later.
After going through all their after-market add-ons; extended warranty, clear-coat, licensing, sales tax (ugh, another $3,000), and so on with the sales manager, we owed them $32,200 plus some change. Michelle pulled a card out of her purse, handed it to the sales manager and told him to take it from the card. When he'd left with her card, I looked at her inquisitively. "A little bonus from Brett," she told me with a huge grin on her face, "fifty-thousand dollars to get home."
My jaw must have dropped to the floor! Then she added, with a little flourish to her voice, "You might want to check our bank account too." I pulled up our US Bank app on my phone and looked at our checking account balance, There'd been a deposit the day before of, THREE. HUNDRED. THOUSAND. DOLLARS! And that was on top of what he'd deposited earlier when she'd first left home after our thirty days of abstinence. No wonder she thought she could afford this car. Altogether, Brett had paid her $400,000 for that little trip!
We'd been at the dealership most of the afternoon but drove back to the hotel with the top down on our new Miata convertible. She told me that from then on, the Accord would be my car, but she'd let me borrow hers occasionally.
That evening, I watched Michelle get ready for her date with Mike, the first time she's seen him in nearly two years. She sat at the hotel dressing table carefully getting ready: putting on her makeup; eyeliner, blush, bright red lipstick; she sprayed the perfume I'd fallen in love with between her breasts and on her neck; then pulling on a fresh pair of thong panties, her silk stockings, and the black boots. Then she pulled that white leather, form-fitting dress down over her body, and asked me to please button it behind her neck. That huge cut-out bare back was even sexier than I remembered from the night before. It went from the two-inch wide strap around her neck to just above where a thong would be if she was wearing one.
When all else was done, she brushed out her beautiful hair into the tendrils and golden waves that were so beautiful the night before. It was about a quarter till eight when she was satisfied, and asked me how she looked.
My God, she was so beautiful...and sexy, she was literally Aphrodite re-incarnated! I thought I had to be crazy, out of my fricken mind, to let her go to dinner with her ex-lover looking like that! Like I'd said from the night before, her dress showed every curve of her body without a single wrinkle to mar the sexy effect.
She kissed me on the cheek when she left and said she didn't know how late she'd be. A little later, she sent me a text message, "Mike's here. Going out to the Trinity Nightclub, where he took me the first night two years ago."
I thought they'd have dinner downstairs, then maybe go to the hotel bar. Obviously, he planned to try to seduce her again, probably to renew their affair. I'll admit I wasn't particularly happy about that. Although, I guess I understood from Michelle's perspective. It would be a little embarrassing for her to be in the bar downstairs on two successive nights with two different men.
I thought about going down to the restaurant to order a cheeseburger to take back to our room to wait but decided I'd rather wait in our room watching the beautiful view out the window. I left the TV off to watch the boats come and go when I was surprised to hear the door being opened half an hour or so later.
Mike was outside the door, and I heard and watched Michelle tell him goodbye. It wasn't "good night," as in, "I'll see you later," it was goodbye as, "I won't see you again."
When she came to me and kissed me on the lips, I asked her, "What was that all about?"
"I discovered it wasn't going to work out again, I'm over him." She wrapped her arms around me, leaned back a little and said, "I wanted to be with my husband. Let's go for a drive in our new car." I could not have been more pleased!
I was all for it, kind of anxious myself to do that. We went down to the parking lot and Michelle climbed in behind the wheel of her new toy and put the top down. We were both excited to finally take this thing out and play with it. It was a little cool out and Michelle was still wearing her backless dress, so we stopped at Wal-Mart to pick her up a sweater. I couldn't help but laugh a little at the incongruity of her wearing a custom-made dress that she said was over four-thousand dollars and a twelve-ninety-five sweater from Wal-Mart.
She drove up to Snoqualmie Falls, laughing and playing with her new car, telling me it felt more like driving a really cool go-kart than a car. The top was down, and we loved the feeling of the cool wind blowing over us. Neither of us had ever been in a convertible before. It wasn't quite like Kristen's Corvette had been, but it was pretty darned cool...and it was ours! We kind of wished it took more than forty-five minutes to get there.
After she parked the car, Michelle and I walked hand-in-hand over to a bench overlooking the falls. They had colored lights shining on them making it beautiful to just sit and watch. Michelle scooted next to me, laid her head on my shoulder, and we sat like that, snuggled together with my arm around her, watching the falls and listening to the roar of the water for probably an hour in the middle of the night. What a wonderfully, perfect evening it was turning out to be! Over the past couple months, I'd forgotten how good life could be. A few other people come and went, but we had our bench to ourselves.
When we left to go back to our hotel, Michelle handed me the keys, telling me it was my turn. I felt like a kid with a new toy on Christmas Day. That thing was fun to drive, kind of like a hot, wet dream come true! I asked her why she hadn't ever said anything sooner about wanting a car like that?
"And what would you have said, sweetheart?" she asked me.
She had me there, I'd have told her we couldn't afford it. We probably could have, but it was an extravaganza we wouldn't ever have actually bought. I'd have probably told her that this time too, if she'd asked me instead of just doing it, even with that money in the bank. I was damn glad she'd just done it, instead of discussing it first.
Speaking of the money in the bank, the next day, on our way home, Michelle told me that Brett told her that he'd have his accountant help with our taxes that year, plus he'd pay any taxes due. So, that money in the bank was basically going to be tax-free!
But I jumped ahead of myself a little. When Michelle and I got back to the hotel, we played with our car a little, putting the top up and down a couple times, marveling at how smoothly it worked. It was a hard top that hid away in the trunk. Much more importantly, when we went to bed that night, we made perhaps the sweetest love of our lives!
In the morning at breakfast, Michelle said she'd like to see Jeremy before we went home. She called his cell phone and didn't get an answer. She checked and discovered she had put his mom's number in her contact list as well, so she called her. She answered, but said he was out with his girlfriend until about three that afternoon. She told Michelle that she had the girlfriend's number and would call her to let him know we'd be there about three that afternoon. She told Michelle that he was living at home during the summer, and was working until school started. When Michelle hung up she was beaming at the fact that Jeremy had a girlfriend and how pleased his mom had seemed to hear from her. She'd asked his mom if it was okay to meet him with his girlfriend there and was assured he'd be thrilled.
We had several hours until three, so went to Pike Place Market, a huge, permanent outdoor market on the Seattle waterfront. We bought a few little trinkets, had an artist draw a caricature of both of us, and of course, bought a salmon to take home. You can't go to Pike Place Market without buying a salmon.
That afternoon, we zipped to Jeremy's house in our little car, getting there a little after three. Jeremy met her at the door and hugged her vociferously. His girlfriend was there as well. Jeremy reminded Michelle that her name was Belinda, the waitress they'd met that night at Shari's Restaurant. She said she's going to school to learn to be a nurse. Jeremy seemed to beam with everything Belinda said or did. We stayed and visited for about an hour.
When we left, Jeremy gave Michelle another very affectionate hug and asked her to please keep in touch. Judy, Jeremy's mom, walked us to the car and thanked Michelle profusely, telling her that Jeremy had opened up, and was so much happier now than before. She said we'd always have a friend with them. Michelle told her that the thanks should be hers, how much she'd enjoyed her time with him. She also told Judy, "If I was younger and single, Belinda would have serious competition for him." Michelle laughed and said, "She wouldn't have a chance."
We enjoyed our drive home. The trip over Snoqualmie Pass is beautiful and in that little Miata with the top down, was so much fun. Michelle drove and I couldn't stop glancing over and marveling at the woman beside me with her beautiful hair blowing in the wind. It was undoubtedly the best trip home from Seattle in my life.
Michelle was pleased when we got home and stepped foot in our house for the first time in nearly two months. I'd meticulously cleaned every nook and cranny, inside and out. What else did I have to do those last couple weeks? It made me feel like I was actually accomplishing something, that her return home was actually getting close.
Monday, my workday was the most pleasant in recent memory. It's simply amazing what a difference it makes to know your beautiful woman is going to be there when you get home! She didn't disappoint me either. When I got home that evening, I smelled the odors of fresh, homemade lasagna and bread wafting through the house. She greeted me with the news that she'd called the law firm and was going back to work the following Monday, August 22nd.
Then she said she had another surprise waiting for me. She led me into our bedroom and had me sit on the edge of our bed. She looked at our ceiling, smiled and said, "We have to have a mirror there." Then she placed her left foot on my lap and handed me the new wire cutters she'd bought earlier in the day. Her intention was obvious. I took the wire cutter from her, put the blade around her anklet chain and cut it off her ankle. I handed her the cut anklet, she placed it in her jewelry box and closed the lid.
It's been nearly four years since Michelle's 'homecoming', her long Caribbean cruise with Brett. I've had a lot of people asking about Michelle's 'first time' with Brett, after her month-long forced abstinence. I haven't told about it because, well -- just because I haven't. I got involved in other stories, Matt and Adriana, Robert and Karen, and a few little tidbits.
I probably wouldn't be now, except for that e-mail from Alec, Michelle's first extra-curricular lover, in Kodiak while I was in the Coast Guard. He's coming to Kennewick next month and I have no idea what might happen, if anything. He's married now, so I'm guessing that there'll be nothing except maybe some reminiscing. But, if there's a story to tell afterward, I'd rather have already told the rest of Michelle's story first.
And there is, in all honesty, quite a lot to tell. My and Michelle's lives changed pretty dramatically when I showed her that story about Alec in Kodiak that was published on New Year's Eve, and she subsequently told me about her long-time affair with Mike in college. The whirlwind aftermath of that revelation had seemed to come to a close after Michelle cut that bracelet off her ankle.
It had been five weeks since that night. Michelle returned to her job with the law office and they were thrilled to have her back. She'd never used the gift certificate she'd been given and donated it to the local domestic abuse house a few blocks from our house and was even starting to look into online law courses to become an attorney herself.
Michelle's biggest unfinished business was Shaun, her boyfriend/lover. While she was gone with Brett, I made an executive decision to suggest to him that he call Diana, the woman Michelle tried to fix me up with while she was gone. Is this Peyton Place or what?
My date with Diana had gone fabulously and we'd spent a fabulous day, then hot night together, but she was a woman who wanted a permanent relationship; not part-time with another woman's husband. And she deserved happiness, after her husband had died a year earlier. He left her enough to buy her dream airplane and before he died, told her to live and enjoy her life.
To make a long story much shorter, I called Shaun and gave him her phone number, suggesting that they would likely enjoy each other. The last I heard from Diana, right before Michelle's homecoming, was a big thank-you. Apparently, they'd hit it off just like I suspected they would.
I told Michelle about Shaun and Diana, I forget, either the first or second night in Seattle. She took it well but had been apprehensive about calling him since we got home. I remember that she once told me that she'd have a very hard time if she lost Shaun the way I'd lost Jacqui. And it appears that's exactly what happened.
It was two weeks later before Michelle called him. She was in the bedroom with the door open and I was in the living room. I heard her say "Hi," then she closed the door. Maybe I should have minded, but I didn't. This was private between her and Shaun, just like many things had been private between me and Jacqui. We've always told each other everything, but often after the fact, which is exactly what I expected Michelle to do. Her phone call with him, though, I understood.
She came in the living room several minutes later, wiping tears from her cheeks. She sat on my lap, kissed me, and said, "That was a nice thing you did..."
I sensed there was more, "But?"
"But... I hate you!" She said it with a bit of a smile, certainly not with any sense that she meant what she said. "They're both happy, grateful to you. And going to get married." Another tear streaked down her cheek, "Hard, though, I wasn't ready to let go... guess I know how you felt when Jacqui left, huh."
Yeah, now she knew. Made me think back to Jacqui, too. I was devastated when she was transferred to Helena, but then when she told me she was getting married... That wedding was hard to go to, but I was happy for her.
I held Michelle on the couch, both of us watching Blue Bloods, then The Rookie and she was feeling much better when we went to bed a couple hours later. I'd say MUCH better if our lovemaking was any indication.
And that wasn't the only night that our love life was on top of the world. It was at least every other night, more often every night. She and Brett had pretty obviously been 'adventurous' because Michelle seemed familiar with a lot of new positions for sex that we'd never used before.
Like the night that she had me blindfold her and tie her to the bed face down, knees pulled apart tight and tied up to the top corners of the bed with her feet tied to the bottom. Now THAT was a fun night! But it sure wasn't anything we'd ever done before, obviously something she'd learned from Brett.
Another thing she'd learned from Brett was the change in her hair. Ever since we'd married, it's been her natural color, dark brown. Brett had convinced her to dye it a golden blonde. She was letting it grow, too, now several inches down her back; long, lush and silky. Michelle's hair added so much to her allure. She'd always been sexy -- from the time I had a secret crush on her when she was a cheerleader in high school; the night Alec spent with us in Kodiak; to her becoming a high-end escort and meeting Brett. Her smile has always lit up a room. But now, since coming home from that trip, she just exudes a whole new aura... that I can't even begin to explain.
But that 'thing' kept nagging at me, like it has with so many readers asking me to tell the story over the last three years; that first night with Brett, what was it like? Michelle told me about the massages, shopping, etc, but never that first night. I was hoping she'd bring it up one of the many times we were making love, but she never had. Actually, she hadn't told me anything more about her weeks with Brett. Although, I didn't wait three years to ask her, I just never wrote it.
It was a Saturday night, September seventeenth, after those five weeks of relative normalcy, (although our sex had been anything but 'normal'), Michelle and I were sitting on the couch, snuggled up, arms around each other, watching a sexy series we'd discovered on Netflix, Outlander. She was wearing one of her new nightgowns with a silky gown on over it and I had on a pair of boxers that Michelle liked -- especially, with the bulge inside them that she was nonchalantly manipulating with her fingertips.
I don't know what possessed me to say it; maybe just the fact that the babydoll she was wearing under that gown was one she'd bought to wear with Brett, or maybe the scene in the TV show, but I blurted out, "Hon... that first night... I've been dying to know..."
She smiled at me, a surprised look on her face, "Been wondering when you'd ask. What brought that up all of a sudden?"
I looked down, reaching underneath her sexy clothes and gently pinched her nipple between my thumb and forefinger, "Dunno, it just popped out... but honestly, been wanting to know."
She moaned a little, her nipples are just as sensitive as on our wedding night, "Mmm, that feels good... you sure you want to know?"
I nodded, "Yeah, it's been driving me out of my mind wondering," I told her.
Another little moan as I pinched a little harder, "Actually, it has me, too, wanting to tell you. I've been thinking how... if you'd ever ask, how to tell you."
I had a great idea, "You could, umm... just... tell me?" Actually, I was thinking that tonight, while we were making love would be an excellent time.
A little giggle and a shake of the pretty head, "Too special for that, think we need to work up to it."
She was making me nervous.
"I've... been thinking about it," her hand wrapped around my cock, squeezing, "Another month is too long..." Now she was really making me nervous! "I think two weeks... " She got up, walked over to the calendar hanging on the cork-board in the dining room, "The thirtieth, September thirtieth, I'll tell you everything. But until then..."
My nervometer peaked, knowing damned well what she was going to say, "I think we need to make it special, abstain until then... maybe even sleep in separate bedrooms..."
I'll tell you right upfront, the following two weeks were NOT pleasant. After the sex we'd been having, then simply stopped, starting that night! I was miserable, horny. She thought it'd be fun. I guess my concept of 'fun' was a little different.
Not once, not a single time, did I even see her in anything except baggy clothes or her old robe during those two weeks. I slept in one of the spare bedrooms, she slept in our room. Her workday always started at nine and mine at eight, so I never even saw her getting ready for work. When she got home, usually quite a bit later than me, she always texted me right before and asked me to go in my bedroom until she changed.
Living with her for those two weeks like this was hell, almost worse than the time without her, except for the fact I wasn't scared out of my wits like when she was gone with Brett. She told me she was 'hiding her body' to raise the anticipation for that night. Well, it was damn well working!
Fortunately, my work was busy. It was early fall, good weather and construction was booming. For anyone who doesn't recall, I'm a building inspector for the City of Kennewick, the manager of the office. We were busy with a backlog of new and ongoing construction, so I didn't have any time at work to ruminate on what Michelle was doing to me.
I'm not going to bore you anymore with those two weeks. Suffice it to say that it was a damned long two weeks! Saturday morning, September thirtieth, did come, however. I hadn't gotten much sleep the night before for obvious reasons. Sleep had become a precious commodity over lots of those nights, but especially that Friday night.
Even though it's now been three-and-a-half years, I remember the happenings of that Saturday almost like it was yesterday, every detail fresh in my mind.
Saturday morning, Michelle said she had a couple appointments. "Then we're going on a little trip," she told me. No clue where or what, except that she said she'd packed a bag for me.
So I moped around home, vacuumed the floor, shaved, brushed my teeth, ready to leave when Michelle got home, wondering what the hell she had planned. She'd also set out a suitcase and garment bag, asking me to put them in the Miata, "And no peeking," she'd admonished me. They were loaded and I sat down to find a college football game. I scrolled through my Dish and found Georgia and Tennessee. It looked like a bit of a blowout, but as I watched, it was at least entertaining. Jake Fromm was on fire, and the Dawgs were up twenty-four -- zip when Michelle got home halfway through the third quarter, almost one o'clock.
I stared at her. She was wearing a baggy sweatshirt and pants, but God, she looked good.
That honey-blonde hair flowing down her back, fingernails polished and beautiful, face radiant. And that perfume! "You've been..." Hell, I could hardly speak.
"Uhuh, had a little girl-glam time, you like?"
All I could do was nod. God, I was so fuckin' horny! And the anticipation was killing me. This seemed like a tiny bit of a preview for what was coming.
"Everything in the car?" she asked me.
This time I managed an actual verbal answer, "Uhuh."
So, a few minutes later, I was in the passenger seat of the Mazda and we were headed... I still didn't know where, except it was on I-82 toward Oregon. It was a warm fall day, in the mid-seventies, so the Miata's top was down, hidden away in the trunk, and Michelle's beautiful hair was blowing in the wind like a sexy movie scene, dark glasses and all. I couldn't take my eyes away.
Shortly before the bridge across the Columbia, Michelle exited toward Plymouth. I assumed we were headed toward Portland, going down the Washington side, instead of the freeway in Oregon. It's a beautiful drive, except so much slower.
The one thing I love most about the drive down the Washington side of the river is the tunnels. I still remember as a kid, my mom and dad's car, Dad honking the horn through the old tunnels. There are five of them, one right after the other just before the Bridge of the Gods at Cascade Locks. They're still exactly the same as they were thirty-plus years ago; unlined, two-lane rock tunnels, perfect to make the car horn echo, something I'll never outgrow. Michelle knows it, too, honking the horn as we go through every one. And in that convertible -- wow!
By the way, the 'Bridge of the Gods' is a Native American legend for the landslide that dammed the Columbia River and formed a land bridge roughly five-hundred years ago.
Enough gobbledygook geology. Michelle surprised me by turning left across the bridge. I expected her to turn on the freeway toward Portland, but she didn't. Instead, she headed straight to the old Columbia Gorge Hotel before the freeway.
We'd wondered about it several times as we drove down the freeway. It's big, beautiful, right on the banks of the river with a huge tree-covered park-like yard in front and it's old. Far as I know, it's always been there, maybe even in pre-historic times.
Michelle pulled in the parking lot and smiled at me, "We're there," she said.
I cocked my eyes at her with the surprised look on my face. My anticipation had been spiking by the minute since early morning, but especially now that I knew where we were going.,
"You want to grab the suitcase?" she asked.
Not much to do except what she asked. She carried the garment bag and me the suitcase and we checked in. The lobby is huge, with big chandeliers on the ceiling, ferry boat, Celilo Falls, and other historic pictures on the walls, ancient-looking furniture, virtually everything from days long past.
They even had a porter carrying our luggage and leading us to our room with a beautiful view of the river from the big balcony. The room was incredible, everything you'd expect from an ancient hotel, even to the extent of the old telephone on the wall with the separate earpiece and crank for ringing the desk. I learned later that the hotel had been built in 1920. Not so old by European standards, but it was in Oregon.
Once we were ensconced in our room, I had one simple, little thing on my mind. Well, two I guess; that night of Michelle and Brett, and fucking my wife! It seemed a shame to ignore the view from the balcony, but it seemed pretty secondary -- or terciary.
Unfortunately, I discovered pretty rapidly that Michelle had other plans, at least for the short term. When I tried to push her sweatshirt up over her head, I got it up about an inch before my hands were swatted away. "Not now, we're going out first," she said.
I groaned. It had been two very long weeks. I didn't know if I could stand even a few more minutes, much less going out.
"Your clothes are in the garment bag, I'll get them."
We'd already hung the bag in the closet so she stepped over and pulled out a very nice looking shirt, jacket, and slacks, all new, in contrasting shades of blue. She laid them on the bed, pulled a pair of black dress shoes and socks out of the suitcase and with a smile told me, "This is ALL you brought for tonight," then before I could mention that something was missing, she took the garment bag and her small overnight bag from the suitcase and disappeared in the bathroom.
I looked again at what she'd set out. I do NOT go out without underwear! I went through the suitcase. None. Zilch. Nada.
Oookay, I guess... I picked up the slacks. Nice. Not like any I'd worn before, soft, smooth, I don't even know how to describe them, some kind of microfiber? I pulled them on, sans underwear. It actually felt kind of good against my bare skin, sexy. Maybe not so bad, after all.
The shirt was a much lighter blue, silky, subtle stripes. It felt good, too. I put on the jacket, the same material as the slacks, and wished I could check myself out in front of the mirror. Unfortunately, my wife was occupying the bathroom where the only mirror would be.
So I took the jacket back off and lay down on the bed to wait. Visions of my wife filled my head when I closed my eyes: The time we went out to dinner with her wearing that totally transparent blouse... and the rest of that night. God, it seemed like an eternity ago, but was actually less than a year; The recording of Michelle and Jeremy. We'd watched it together a couple times since she got home. I closed my eyes and there they were, Michelle on her hands and knees, Jeremy behind her, pulling her hair, "Harder, Jeremy, harder..." over and over again. God, I was a fucked up, horny mess.
And then... I sensed her presence; opening my eyes, she was standing alongside the bed, dressed in a skin-tight, black dress I'd never seen before, a thin strap over one shoulder, the other bare. It was short, silky, no bra. The shape of her breasts, contours of her nipples pushed against the material, almost like it wasn't even there. It would have been right at home in bed as a nightgown. Hair brushed out down her back, red lips, sheer, black stockings, high heels strapped around her ankles, and that perfume! God, she was so sexy!
The seductive smile on her face, "You ready?" she asked me.
Hell no, I didn't want to go anywhere, except to drag my woman into the bed with me.
"I didn't want to go out that night. We were in our room. He laid this dress out for me, said we were going to dinner.
"It was the first time I'd seen it. When I put it on... it did something to me, made me feel so sexy... this is the first time I've worn it since that night."
Yeah, I could see why. It was sexy as fuckin' hell. Damn!
I scooted over to the side of the bed and sat up, reaching for my jacket. Michelle knelt in front of me, "He had me kneel in front of him... told me he wanted to 'set the mood' for the night."
She unzipped my pants. Now I knew why the 'no underwear'. I'd been hard off and on all day and in that hotel room, thinking and waiting...
I felt her warm lips and groaned, "He was so hard, like you are... god, I wanted him inside me," she looked up at me, "like I do you, right now.
"When I told him that, all he said was 'later'... he reached around my head and pulled me onto him," as I felt her warm, wet lips engulfing my cock, then her tongue exploring the tip.
After two weeks, there wasn't a doubt in my mind that I wouldn't be able to take much of this, especially when I felt my cock against the back of her throat, then the swallow and her throat opening up, her lips sliding to the base. A loud groan escaped my lips. I was already feeling the cum starting to rise and that familiar feeling of heaven just before the explosion.
And then the cold air on the wetness. "He pushed me away, said he didn't want to come yet, that he'd waited too long for the first time to be over so soon."
"I wanted to feel him, the soft skin on his steel rod, cum in my throat, to taste it... but he pulled me to my feet, told me it was time for our dinner reservation."
I watched as she stepped back into the bathroom with the door left open and held her mouth just so as she applied more lipstick where it'd rubbed off. As I watched, I put on the jacket that she'd bought just for tonight and she took my hand, leading us out the door to where, I still had no idea.
But I saw the rest of her dress... or lack of, would be more accurate, crisscrossed straps across her back, leaving lots of bare, still tanned skin before she slipped on a light jacket.
She handed me the keys to the Miata and stood beside the door, waiting for me to open it for her. Then slid in onto the leather seat, letting her dress slide up her thighs showing the frilly tops of her stockings.
She directed me through town, eastbound. The Miata was still new, so much fun to drive, almost like an oversized, high-tech go-kart. Down to the marina on the river, the Columbia Gorge Stern wheeler waiting at the dock.
We'd seen it several times as we drove down the freeway to Portland. It looks exactly like pictures of the big stern wheelers on the Mississippi. We'd both commented that it'd be fun to take one of their cruises sometime. It looked like the time had come.
A few minutes later we'd been marked off the guest list and were walking down the gangplank. A photographer asked us to stop for a picture. Michelle took off her jacket, laid it across the handrail, took my arm, and snuggled up close with that captivating, sexy smile that can light up a room.
The stern wheeler sailed at four-thirty and it was a quarter-after when we got there, so we wandered around the boat while we waited, our fingers interlaced the whole time. There were several other people, mostly couples, none dressed quite like Michelle and me, certainly none who looked anything at all as gorgeous as her.
At four-thirty-five the boat started vibrating with the low growl from the big diesel engine and a moment later the big wheel started to move. We'd made it a point to be at the back to watch. The boat gradually moved away from the pier and a few minutes later we were moving up the river. We found a stair up to the second level, wandering up there for a better view of the scenery.
On the outside, for all the world, I was fascinated with the big boat. I'd never been on anything like it before. But inside... inside, my pulse was pounding with an adrenaline rush. My cock was hard and the only thing I could think about was... well, pretty sure I don't need to spell it out. The fact that every guy we passed raked Michelle's body over with his eyes wasn't helping my libido, either. And I wasn't the least self-conscious with my constant hard-on, especially with no underwear to rein it in. No, not at all, ha!
Michelle told me that this was a dinner cruise. We had an hour before we needed to be in the dining room. We pointed out things on the shore that looked so different from this view; a beautiful house sitting on a bluff overlooking the river that we'd never seen before. A beautiful waterfall on the Washington side right into the river. You can't see it from the Washington highway and it's too far from Oregon.
But still, my mind was on one track only. What was still to come that night? I'd wondered about that night the whole time Michelle was gone and then the seven weeks since. Now that the time was finally here, I had what I could only describe as a major adrenaline rush going on.
At twenty-five after, we made our way back down to the first level and the dining room. When we got there, just before going through the door, Michelle gave me a short peck on my cheek and told me, "He told me to 'not let them know'. I had no idea what he meant." I looked at her with what must have shown my befuddlement, as I sure didn't know what it might have meant, either.
There were probably fifty people already in the dining room, a steady stream still coming in, several hosts and hostesses seating everyone. A pretty, young lady took our names and noted them on her tablet before escorting us to a table for two. It had a white tablecloth, two sets of silverware, and a candle in the center, all very formal, including her long, flowing skirt. I was surprised, Michelle and I weren't overdressed at all, although none of the other women even came close. Maybe I was a bit prejudiced, but I thought, just being honest.
Our table was situated along the outside of the room with a beautiful view of the Washington side of the river. She told us that her name was Marianne and she'd be our server, asking what we'd like to drink and Michelle quickly spoke, "I'll have a gin and tonic, Bombay."
I looked at her with a surprised look. What the hell was that about? First; she doesn't drink, second; what the hell is it?
I started to order something I'd had once a long time ago, a Singapore Sling, but Michelle interrupted, "Remember, sweet, you're driving."
Okay, I looked at Marianne, "Ice tea," I guess. She thanked us and said she'd be back shortly.
I watched her for a moment, seating another couple, then back to Michelle, "What the heck was that, Bombay?" I asked Michelle, soon as the girl was gone.
"It's what I drank a lot of with Brett," she explained, then very quietly, "makes me sooo horny!"
As if to prove her point, her right hand slipped underneath the table. I didn't think too much of it at that instant until I felt it on my thigh, then a little more centered. It was hidden as the tablecloth draped over the edge of the table hiding what went on underneath, Michelle's fingers tracing little circles on my hardened 'junk', while at the same time, giving me that seductive smile.
"We were sitting at the Captain's table, along with his wife, just the four of us," she started to tell me when Marianne brought our drinks, and Michelle took a long, slow drink, looking straight into my eyes the whole time.
As she was setting her drink back down, still watching me, I felt her hand that had been tracing the circles on my cock begin to slowly pull my zipper down. I wasn't breathing, couldn't; my cock, unrestrained by any underwear emerged from its hiding place, proud and tall, anticipating what my wife was about to do.
But she didn't. her hand arose above the table, bringing her glass to her lips once more. Another long, slow sip of her aphrodisiac drink, looking into my eyes once again. Right or wrong, I took that as a signal, my hand finding its way to her leg, feeling her heat through her silky stocking.
"I was already so horny. He ordered me the drink. He leaned over and whispered to me again, 'Don't let them know,' then his fingers... on my thigh... then..."
My hand crept up her leg, pushing her dress along with it. Remembering again that it had been five long weeks that night with Brett, not just the two we'd just had. And how she'd told me the night she came home how she'd been sexually tormented with massages, shopping, trying on sexy clothes.
My hand crept higher, to the soft skin of the inside of her thigh. I felt Michelle's body begin to tremble. She took another drink of her Bombay, letting her legs spread slightly apart.
She'd freed my cock a moment ago. We've had erotic dinners before, ever since that New Year's Eve, where she told me about her college time with Mike. But never quite like this, where she'd...
Good thing, the pants I was wearing might have been torn by my hardness. I watched Michelle's face as my fingertips brushed slightly for the first time against her soaking panties. She was trying to show a calm demeanor to the people at the adjacent tables, and the wait staff. But I knew better; her pursed lips, the heat emanating through her panties, like she was reliving that night with Brett.
"So fuckin' horny!" I heard very quietly under her breath. I didn't know if she meant now or that night with Brett, but if wet panties were any indication... "His fingers felt like... like they were on fire... so hot!"
And those wet panties barely covered her sex. When I hooked a finger underneath them, feeling her baby-smooth, bare skin, how wet and slippery she was and worked slowly up and down her slit before pressing inside her, she had a sharp intake of her breath, momentarily closed her eyes, and squeezed her legs together. I immediately thought of another time she'd squeezed her legs together just like that, in Kodiak when we were entertaining my Coast Guard friend, Alec, just before the night ascended into what was still one of the most erotic of our lives.
Michelle was more than a little aroused; like she had been that other night so long ago, like she had undoubtedly been that night with Brett. Little moans were emanating from her mouth
That was the moment that Marianne brought us two small dinner salads. Michelle's body was vibrating with excitement, trying to act normal. I pulled my hand from underneath the table and noted that one finger was glistening with moisture. I don't know if Marianne noticed, but when she winked and said, "Enjoy," I wondered if she was talking about the salad, or something else.
Michelle is right-handed. She always eats with her right hand, but that night she picked up her fork with her left and her right disappeared under the table once again, wrapping around my cock and squeezing. "I think he liked it," was all she said, before a forkful of salad found its way into her mouth. I don't think she was talking about his salad. I sure as hell wasn't!
A few minutes later, Marianne brought our main courses; grilled salmon for Michelle, and several slices of rare prime rib for me. I was having a very hard time keeping a straight face when Michelle intentionally squeezed and pumped her hand a little when she was leaving the plates.
Over the next half-hour, while trying to eat, we took turns tormenting each other hidden under the table, exactly like I imagined Michelle and Brett that night, his words 'Don't let them know' resounding in my mind. Even after the two weeks, we were both so on the edge that I couldn't even begin to imagine what it must have been like that other night.
Michelle ordered a second gin and tonic, "I like how it makes me feel," she told me.
Even with the extracurricular activities, the food was incredible. Then the small bowl of spumoni ice cream. But all I wanted was to get my wife back to our hotel room. And it seemed she wanted the same thing.
When we stood, Michelle first pulled her dress down. Good thing, too, as it had been pretty much bunched up around her waist. We still had another hour, an excruciating hour, before the boat was scheduled to dock.
It was cooler outside on the water, so she put on her jacket. It was disappointing as I liked how men... and women had been looking at her, their eyes hungry, like I was the luckiest guy on earth to be with this woman. And I was; it was hard to not be thinking about a little later when I'd truly be 'with' her in our hotel room.
We walked up to the third deck, the top of the boat, arms around each other, standing at the guardrail watching the beautiful shore go past as the powerful engine pushed us back down the river. We walked from one side to the other, first the Washington side, then Oregon. Like I said, it all looks so different and beautiful from the river, like the freeway on the Oregon side at that point, how it's built out over the river supported on columns down into the river. You never notice that driving down the highway.
The boat turned around right above Bonneville Dam. We were at the front of the boat, still on the third deck, watching the water rushing underneath the boat when Michelle turned to me, gave me a hug, whispering, "I love you," and smiled at me, that smile that has captivated so many in her lifetime, "I never said those words to Brett... only to you," but then added, "everything else, though, I didn't hold anything else back."
I didn't know what to say. I'd seen how she had, that weekend in Chicago, been his woman, totally, enthusiastically, enjoying every second; that morning out by the pool, making love with him while Kristen and I watched. Not fucking, but making love, his cock sliding in and out of her. I hadn't ever been so damned jealous in my life... and so fuckin' turned on! I shook my head, trying to shake the image out of my mind, not succeeding.
It was a quarter after eight when we disembarked off the boat. They had given us our picture ('gave' it to us for another forty bucks!) and we were back in the Miata heading toward the hotel, finally! The closer it came, the harder my cock seemed to get. I didn't think it could get harder, but what can I say.
In the lobby, I started to head straight for the stair, but Michelle held me back, said, "He wanted to dance after dinner," and pulled me toward a room.
I hadn't realized the hotel had a bar. Of course, it would have been empty when we were here earlier. There was a stage and a guy singing, some kind of light rock I guess. I'm not a music expert by any means, unless it's country. And not an expert then, either, just a little more familiar since it's what I like. But this guy sounded pretty decent, too.
We sat at a little table for two and a guy came over, asked if we'd like anything to drink. I started to speak when Michelle broke in, "I'd like a gin and tonic, Bombay," she said.
The guy looked toward me. I didn't have to drive now, so, "The same, please."
While we waited, she started, "Brett ordered me the drink," Michelle said, "I'd told him earlier how horny it was making me... I could have told him I didn't need another drink," she looked straight into my eyes, "I was already so turned on that I could barely stand it. The only thing I wanted then was for him to take me to our cabin."
I glanced down. Her nipples were a pretty good indication, and they were poking holes through her dress. She saw where I was looking and looked down herself, "Like now," she said, "it's what I want."
I started to get up, "Then let's..."
She put her hand on mine, "No, not yet, we're... not ready."
The waiter brought our drinks and I gave him my card. Michelle took a sip and I followed suit. It wasn't half bad, kind of enjoyed it. She put hers back down and leaned over to kiss me, soft, sensual, her lips melting into mine, tasting like the 'Bombay', her tongue probing, then back just beyond touching. I still felt her breath. "It was our first kiss... and it was electric... so good." And her lips were back on mine, this time more urgent, like we hadn't kissed for two long weeks. Which we hadn't.
After breaking that kiss, she told me, "We weren't just on the ship the whole time, you know, there's a little island, Antigua, in the Caribbean. We stayed at a resort there for two weeks." Her fingers were tickling the back of my hand as she was telling me this, "I don't know how many times we made love... in our suite, the balcony, on little beaches we found..."
I pictured my wife on the beach making love. And the thought briefly went through my mind, being home... alone. But that thought quickly dissipated. I'd encouraged that trip, knowing full well. And besides, it was hot as hell!
"... show you the bikinis I wore."
My mind had left the premises shortly, "What? Your bikinis?" I asked her, hoping to not sound too loopy. I'd been drinking that gin and tonic and not exactly used to it.
"When we get home, I'll show you my bikinis. Maybe even model them for you," she smiled, obviously enjoying what she was doing to my libido.
"Let's dance," she suggested, responding to the first slow song the singer did, getting up from her chair and tugging my hand along with her. There were only two other couples dancing. Michelle wrapped her arms around my neck and pressed her cheek against mine. I wrapped my arms around her, rubbing my hands against the bare skin of her back. Her perfumed scent flooding my senses.
"He's a really good dancer... but we didn't actually dance very long. We..."
And her lips were on mine, her tongue between my lips, oblivious to the other couples dancing and the people sitting around at tables. She pulled my head tighter and her soft lips stiffened, pressing against mine. Our feet were no longer moving and I wasn't even hearing the music, just feeling.
I pulled her tighter, crushing her breasts against my chest, hands reaching lower on her back. I know her dress had to have been pulled up, how high I had no idea but no doubt high enough to give a good show to onlookers.
Pretty much all the blood in my body appeared to have congregated in a single location. I know she was feeling it pressed against her abdomen. She would have been feeling his, too, that night.
"I think it's time to go upstairs," I heard from somewhere off in the distance. It was Michelle's voice.
I paid the tab for our drinks. What was in my thoughts was images. Images of my wife with Brett and feeling the fear, remembering the panic of that first night after she'd left, the agony and the jealousy toward the man who had taken my Michelle to his room that night while I was home alone, maybe the night I'd discovered the 'game' in her lingerie drawer.
But that was then, this was now. And I was about to relive that first night with my beautiful wife.
Inside our room, we kissed. I'd taken off my jacket and felt the hard nubbins of her nipples against my shirt. I was so fuckin' ready for more!
She directed me to sit on the couch, loveseat, actually. She went to her suitcase, pulled out a couple small, portable speakers and connected them to her phone, turning on some music, "He asked me to dance for him, this was the song he put on." It was soft, slow, seductive. No idea what or who, but it sure as hell matched the mood.
She began a slow, seductive dance in front of me, rubbing her hands against the silky material of her dress, occasionally pulling the hem up a few inches; her eyes closed, a look of pure lust on her face, moving gracefully on her heels. She used to rarely wear them, before that night she told me about Mike. Now, they're a staple, seemingly, every pair sexier than the last.
She turned, facing the opposite wall, pulling her dress up a little higher -- showing the lace at the top of her stockings. "I felt so... can't even describe it... turned on, sexy, so... like a teenage virgin taking her clothes off for her first lover."
One hand reached behind her, found the top of a zipper that I hadn't even realized was there, pulled it down slowly, so slowly, inch by agonizing inch. Her dress opened, the back of her panties coming into view, her sexy ass. My cock was so friggin' hard! She'd been teasing and tormenting me all evening. I ached to wrap my hand around myself and relieve the glorious agony.
She turned back toward me, her face flushed with desire, breasts and nipples straining at her dress, eyes open and watching me as she slipped the strap off her shoulder. I sat there, transfixed, turned on beyond all imagination, as she slipped her dress down -- first one breast, then the other; nipples hard and swollen, for her lover to see.
"He told me how beautiful I was. I could see it in his face."
Then the dress fell to the floor and she stood, inches away. Her black panties, totally sheer. "I wore the panties, because... I knew how much he'd enjoy taking them off. I knew because of that other night, in Seattle. You'll enjoy, too. I did... and will."
She stood, waiting. My fingers were shaking as I reached up, felt the soft skin of her hips. "His fingers were shaking, too. I knew... how much he wanted me, and I realized... the power I had."
I worked my fingers underneath the satiny material of her panties and pulled them down, feeling that my cock might explode at any instant. If not the cum, simply unable to contain the ever-expanding steel rod.
Michelle was panting as I peeled her soaked panties down her stocking-clad legs. She lifted each foot, pushing both the dress and panties aside. "You can touch," was all she said.
I did, running my hands up her hips, over her taut tummy, to the soft, bare skin of her wet pussy lips. Michelle groaned as I parted them just slightly and ran my forefinger between them. Her face was a study in concentration; eyes closed, mouth in an 'O'.
I started to pull her forward, intending on a nipple in my lips when she stepped up on the couch and said, "Told me... not to come... wanted first time... with him inside me," as she gripped my head and leaned her pussy into my mouth.
This time it was the scent of her sex that filled my senses, much more powerful than the perfume. And I swear, I'll never get used to those baby-smooth, bare pussy lips!
My hands were around her butt cheeks, her legs spread apart, bent knees on the couch's cushion on either side of my head. She let out a loud groan when my tongue pressed inside her lips. I was having my own hard time with my cock still constrained inside my slacks. I hadn't dared to take it out because I knew what would happen if I had.
"First time feeling his lips there... didn't do in Seattle..."
Michelle writhed and moaned, pressing herself against my mouth, "His lips..." I found her clit and sucked it into my mouth, "...oh god..."
This doesn't feel like me. Not Michelle, my wife. I feel like a whole 'nother guy, eating out a beautiful woman, a stranger, for the first time. She tastes different somehow. I realized we hadn't done this since before she left, now nearly four months ago.
I'd taken the power back. The power she'd just said she had over 'him'. She was groaning, whimpering, trying so hard not to come. I could tell she was reliving that night, after her five weeks of celibacy.
But I couldn't do it much longer. The steel rod in my pants was screaming for attention, suffering. As this beautiful, frantic woman pressed herself into my mouth, my fumbling fingers trying to work my pants loose; the button, then the straining zipper was stuck. Maybe I haven't taken back that power. Maybe it's still hers.
The insane fear hit me; the scene in 'There's Something About Mary', in high school where the hero -- don't remember his name, gets his dick caught in his zipper when going on a date with his dream girl.
But it didn't. It finally came undone and I pushed my pants down around my legs. Then I was so thankful, no underwear to dispose of. I pushed my wife away from my mouth. If I'd had the power for a moment, it was gone. I was desperate to be inside her.
She acted just as desperate, sliding down my body and taking my steel rod in her hand. She let out a loud moan as she settled, sliding her pussy down, enveloping me inside her. I groaned from the incredible feeling, dizzy with the world spinning around me. "Sooo good!" I heard her say. Me, now? Or then... with him? "He came... couldn't stop himself." I surprised myself, figured I'd come as soon as I felt her incredible slickness, how tight she was around me.
My mouth was gaping open, Michelle's naked breasts pressed against my shirt. Then her lips were on mine, almost in desperation. No, not 'almost'. She ground her pussy down onto my pelvis and both our groans were muffled by each other's lips. She pulled up, then back down again and I felt the cum start to rise, that incredible pre-orgasmic feeling.
And then I felt Michelle's pussy tightening around me, her lips stiffening right before she threw her head back and a wail, drowned out by my own groans. Her freshly manicured fingernails scraping across my back through my shirt. "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!" Michelle began screaming, then totally unrecognizable noises.
And my orgasm exploded inside me. Any semblance of recognizing anything except the incredible strength of it escaped me totally. Michelle's screams faded to the background and I have no idea what kind of noises I may have been making. Suffice it to say that, surprisingly, nobody pounded our door down to rescue us from each other.
When I could speak again, minutes later, the only thing I could think to say was, "That was..."
"Yeah, it was, wasn't it," she finished my thought.
When I stood, Michelle still wrapped around my mid-section, I tried to take a step and realized my pants were still wrapped around my legs, making me fall back onto the chair. Michelle started giggling and couldn't stop. I was helpless with her on my lap, trying, unsuccessfully, to kick my pants off.
She finally managed to be able to talk in-between the giggles, "Brett did the same thing," starting the giggles all over again.
She climbed off my lap so I could shed my pants and I watched her lay down on the bed, posing, propped up on her elbows with her legs open like it was a super-sexy, nude boudoir shoot. God, I wished I had thought to bring my camera! When we get home...
"You posed like that for Brett?" I asked her.
She answered by flicking her hair so that it fell across her face and gave me that smile that's captivated me ever since that very first night at a basketball game and every other guy she's met, probably since she was a little girl.
"He told me I was the hottest girl he'd ever been with. And from his look, I believed him, too."
She watched me taking my shirt off, licking her lips like it was the most sensual thing she'd ever seen. The sight of her looking at me like that sure as hell didn't dampen my libido. By the time I joined her on the bed, I was every bit as hard as a few minutes earlier.
My wife was naked on the bed, I was naked with her... and still horny as hell. "What did you do with Brett?" I asked her.
"Mmm," she mumbled, scooting herself up, rubbing a nipple against my mouth, "we did this," not having to work too hard to get my lips open. "It was the first time we did this, too," moaning as I sucked her tit into my mouth. "That first time, in Seattle, all we did... was fuck."
I've mentioned before how sensitive Michelle's nipples and breasts are and tonight sure as hell wasn't an exception. As I sucked, wrapping my arms around her back and pulling her tighter in my mouth, she moaned anew, obviously enjoying my attention to her breast. Her legs were spread apart, humping her wet sex against my chest.
Not for long, though. She turned around, putting herself in a 69 position, lowering her pussy to my mouth and rubbing my manhood with her hands before I felt her lips begin to replace her hands, sinking lower and lower.
God, her warm lips felt so good! And it was the first time we'd done this so soon after I'd come inside her. The taste of my cum intermingled with hers would have already been a huge turn-on, even without my cock in her mouth. She pressed her pussy down so that it was almost hard to breathe at the same time as she swallowed my cock into her throat. If I hadn't come so soon before, I'd already be coming in her mouth.
Michelle was just as excited as I was, grinding her pussy on my mouth, my tongue doing its best to reach inside her when she rolled off me and breathlessly told me, "Fuck me, love, just like Brett did."
I didn't know how he had, but did know what I wanted to do. It was past time. I turned around and rolled over on top of her, driving my cock into her and smothering her groans with my mouth on hers. I pistoned my cock in and out of her, thankful for that hard orgasm earlier, giving me the stamina to do this without coming almost immediately.
Michelle's knees were bent, spread far apart, still wearing her heels and stockings. By then, there was an almost continuous wail coming from her mouth, growing louder every time I thrust deep inside her. The thought briefly went through my mind that if it's like this with me, what the hell would it have been like with Brett driving his cock into her?
I'll say right up front that the next few minutes were damn well worth the two weeks of misery. Hell, it would have been worth a year of suffering!
By the time our orgasms had let up, both our bodies were slick with sweat and I was exhausted, barely able to breathe. Michelle, too, was having trouble catching her breath. Maybe it had been even better for her with Brett, but I didn't see how.
"I'd dreamed about that night, what it was going to be like," Michelle said after we'd lain in bed for a few minutes. She rolled over on her side to look at me, "It was... even more..." Another long hesitation, "I don't know how to explain it, was all a dream come true, a fantasy beyond belief... the whole trip, but especially that first night.
"And tonight, telling you... showing you... was, I think... even better."
She wrapped her arms around me and we held each other. It had been a long, stressful, erotic day and it couldn't have been more than a few minutes later, with a smile on my face, that I was asleep.
We made love again in the morning, with me spooning against Michelle's back and her leg thrown over my waist, my cock buried inside her. Exactly like I remembered imagining one of the nights she was gone, the night I'd discovered the picture of Brett tucked away in her lingerie drawer... her little game of hide and seek, that had been my source of comfort... while nearly driving me out of my mind with jealousy.
Then again in the shower, squeezing both of us into the little three-foot square stall, Michelle's face pressed against the stall's wall, me behind her, driving my cock into her...
Later that morning, after our free hotel breakfast, we were back in the Miata on our way home, with me watching Michelle's beautiful, blond hair blowing in the wind once again, no more mystery about that first night.