Wives with Benefits: Volume Two (6 page)

I stroked her cheek gently with my other hand. “No,” I said quietly. “I’ve changed my mind. I want to know everything.”

Shock in her eyes again, but then I kissed her again, slipping my tongue in her mouth, tasting the unfamiliar nature of her lips and her tongue, showing her in no uncertain terms that I loved her, I wanted her, that she turned me on like no one else ever could.

As I kissed her, I reached around to ease down the zip on the back of her dress. Slipped the straps of the dress down over her shoulder.

She broke away from our kiss as the thing fell away to the ground. “I need to take a shower,” she stressed. But I shook my head.

“I want to know everything first,” I said.

“Everything?”

I ran my hand down her other cheek, softly, as I kissed her again. Then I was stroking her chest, her breast.

“The thought of you being with someone else…” I said, blurting it out, but not really seeing any other way to put it, “…I guess it’s become a bit of a turn-on.”

“A turn-on?”

I noticed the way her chest heaved, rising and falling with heavy breathing. I noticed that her stockings were gone, her legs bare.

“I can’t really explain it,” I said with regret. “I think of you… flirting with other guys… dating someone else. Taking him back to a hotel room…”

One of her eyebrows rose. “And that turns you on?”

Her hand moved to my stomach, then dropped to find the hard shape concealed in my PJs. It made her quietly gasp.

“Did it happen?” I asked her. “Did you sleep with him?”

She hesitated, understandably. A long pause born out of fear that this was all some kind of trap.

Then she nodded.

A pulse of searing heat surged through my chest at that, and my manhood bucked against her hand. Feeling it move made her let out another little gasp.

“He’s called Paul,” she said, her hand now starting to stroke my hardness. “He’s a lot like you. You’d probably like him.”

Her pretty face was full of surprise, wonder, amazement.

“What did he think about our… arrangement?” I asked her.

“He understood our reasons. I guess he just thought it was hot I wanted to sleep with him.”

“So he was nice, then? Attractive?”

She nodded. “And smart. Kind. Ambitious. Motivated.”

I stepped back, and she went with me, through to the living room, onto the couch. She sat and curled her legs beneath her, and I sat with her, arms encircling her as we kissed some more. The longer I spent embracing her, the more attuned I seemed to become to the scent of sex that surrounded her.

“Did you have a good time, though?” I asked her. “Did you go… somewhere? A hotel room?”

She nodded, smiled. “He took me to his place. He has a flat in Bloomsbury.”

“Very nice.” I ran my fingers over her shoulders, over her thighs. Feeling her warm, soft skin, which seemed slightly clammy from earlier activity.

“Was he good… in bed?”

“That’s the kind of thing you want to know, now?” Her hand squeezed my hardness, and it was clear to her I did. “He was a little kinky, I guess,” she smiled. “But it looks like you’re a little kinky, too, huh?”

“I’m guessing it’s not the same kink.”

She shook her head. “He’s not married, hasn’t got a girlfriend.”

“So what was it? What did you do with him?”

She laughed. “He liked my feet. Said I have pretty feet.”

“You do.” I laughed with her. It was unexpected. I guess all people have different tastes.

I kissed her mouth, and squeezed her gloriously round behind, then I was slipping off the couch, knees to the floor in front of her, kissing my way down her chest, breathing in a slightly stronger scent, a male scent. Her lover.

“He wanted me to touch him with my feet,” she said, seeming calm, quietly overjoyed as I continued to kiss my way down her body, celebrating her despite the fact that she’d just slept with another.

I kissed my way down her thighs, over her knees, her calves.

“He wanted me to stroke his… thing… with my feet…” she said, but now she wasn’t laughing, she was sighing as I kissed the upper slopes of her foot, then a toe or two, breathing in the strange scent of the man who had touched her there.

“His ‘thing’?”

“His cock. What d’you want me to call it?”

She did have pretty feet. I could see anyone with that particular kink being bewitched by her. I, myself, was apparently bewitched that she’d used them to pleasure another man. But lifting them now, to kiss, to stroke with my cheeks, only exposed her shapely thighs to me, and the sight of her black lace covered sex.

“It wasn’t only your feet, though,” I asked her, stroking her legs before steadily kissing my way back up her shins.

“No,” she admitted.

There was a look of fire in her eyes as she parted her thighs. In that expression alone I could tell she’d had an adventure that evening, and was now turned on both by remembering it all — and by my interest in it.

I kissed her inner thighs, pressing my face into her soft, warm flesh, the intoxicating scent of her arousal and of their sex so strong it made me a little giddy.

“I can… I can go clean up…” she murmured quietly.

“No,” I said, my lips brushing over her velvet skin, edging closer and closer to her sex, that spicy scent growing stronger and stronger.

“Tell me how it went,” I said, breathing in deeply, inhaling her wicked bouquet.

“What d’you want to know?”

She let out a low, deep moan as I touched my lips and my nose against the warm, damp lace of her panties. Feeling her heat and her wetness through them, confirming without doubt that another man had been inside her, a man had come inside my sweet wife.

“Everything,” I said. “Tell me everything.”

She moaned again as I moved up, kissing around her stomach, tasting the faint saltiness of her skin.

“His name is Paul,” she said. “He’s a university lecturer at UCL. Senior lecturer. He doesn’t make much, but gets a nice flat out of it.”

“In Bloomsbury, no less.” I felt pleased. An academic. Good genes, one could hope.

“He’s close to being offered a professorship, he thinks.”

I slipped my fingers into the waistband of her panties, pulled on them gently. Lisa gave me that look of surprise and wonder again — the silent questions on her lips: do you really want this? You really want to see? You really don’t want to wait for me to take a shower? This really turns you on, honey?

“It started off a lot like some kind of job interview,” she smiled, lifting her hips so I could peel her underwear from her body. “I guess after a little time it became more… personable…”

“You liked him. He seemed trustworthy?”

I slipped her panties off, pressing them to my face, breathing in that intense smell of sex before dropping them on the floor. Holding her feet again, her dainty feet, I couldn’t see them without imagining them curling around some other man’s cock, stroking it, rubbing it.

“Absolutely,” she said. “Doesn’t go out on many dates — but he got tested, just as I asked.”

I kissed the soles of her feet, her high arches. “So you had dinner…”

“Thai place. Very nice. Expensive. He paid.”

Kissing up her legs, I gazed upon her as her thighs parted and her beautiful sex was revealed to me. I felt my chest filled with heat, my heart racing. My wife’s glorious pussy, freshly fucked by another man. Her soft triangle of brown hair dewy with her juices, her pussy lips puffy and red and glistening after taking another man’s cock.

“You talked to him… about everything…?”

“Uh-huh.”

Now I dropped slowly onto her, my cheek skimming against her thigh as I approached her open flower, stunned by it, shocked by it, completely transfixed by it. This sweet pussy, which had been mine alone for ten years, now filled by another. His come was still inside her. Hopefully working its magic.

“He was intrigued, actually,” she said, then groaned as I kissed my way around her pussy, though not quite on it. “He wanted to know all about how you were taking it, how you thought about the whole… strategy.”

“And you said?”

“I said you’d taken a step back, you didn’t want to know what went on, just when I find out I’m pregnant. I guess I didn’t know how you really felt.”

I let out a little moan of my own as I kissed and licked along her outer lips, being careful not to disturb anything, though I guessed it was way past time when she might have leaked his come. Nevertheless, detecting the unmistakable smell of another man’s come, more indelible proof of my Lisa’s infidelity, it made me shiver. I should have been repulsed, enraged, horrified. I was only fascinated, spurred on, craving her.

“You were with him quite a while,” I said, stroking her rosy lips with my nose, nudging up against her clit.

“Dinner went on a while,” she said. “We were chatting. I guess… flirting. It was strange… after the small talk was out of the way, I knew I was about to sleep with him.”

“Exciting, huh?”

“Mmm…” she moaned as I enveloped her clit in my hot mouth. “I liked the way he looked at me… he wanted me…”

Her breathing was deepening as I licked and sucked gently on her little sensitive button. It seemed so depraved to me, and yet that depravity only drove me on, only thrilled me more, my face soaking in her juices, in the scent of her sex, in the lingering traces of her infidelity.

“And you wanted him?”

“Uh-huh… he was… nice…”

“Attractive?”

“Very.”

She placed her hand on my head, gently stroking me, her fingers running through my hair. Looking up, I saw that she was gazing down on me, affection and wonder in her eyes. My tongue dipped down inside her pussy. I licked and sucked on her lips, growing bolder, less concerned at the risk. The man had come inside her, his seed had filled her, there had been time for the biology to work. I wasn’t going to disrupt that, I was sure of it.

“So you went back to his place?”

“Eventually…” she said, a little breathless. “We went… very… slowly…”

“Tell me.”

“You really want to know?”

“Everything.”

She stroked my head as I kissed around her pussy, and caressed it gently with my fingers.

“We got to his place and he was very nice,” she said, seeming a little wary about imparting the details. “Wanted to show me around….Asked me if I wanted a drink, a coffee, whatever. I just… I just wanted to get to the bedroom.”

“Uh-huh,” I chuckled. I could see it was reassuring to her.

“I sat… on his bed… and he leaned down to kiss me…”

Again, she was cautious about talking so openly. Worried that my good will might turn sour. But sliding a finger inside her, feeling just how slick her pussy was, I was lapping up every detail she could impart, and she could tell.

“I liked kissing him…” she said, groaning as I slid another finger inside her. “Although it wasn’t the same as with you… it was slow… sweet… he didn’t want to go too fast for me.”

I pushed myself up to kiss her mouth now, as though offering her a comparison, but as it progressed it was more… encouraging, I’d say. I broke away. “You weren’t just kissing him all night, though.”

She shook her head, a wicked glint in her eye. She still couldn’t quite believe I wanted to know all this, but I could see that she enjoyed the idea that I might be turned on by it.

“I helped him take off his shirt… and I was just running my hands all over his chest…” there was a dreamy tone to her voice.

I was a little surprised that I wasn’t jealous, that I was pleased that the man she’d chosen had been attractive.

“And then I undid his belt… slid down his jeans… just a little way… and there it was…”

I pushed myself up, and now pulled the straps of her bra down off her shoulder. She helped me remove it, exposing her small but pert breasts, and her sensationally stiff nipples. We gazed into each other’s eyes a moment, and it was clear I was enthralled by her adventure almost as much as she was.

“A good one?” I asked, feeling slightly foolish, slightly awkward.

“Uh-huh.”

She moaned as I took one of her nipples in my mouth, swirling my tongue around it.

“It was… strange…” she said. “I guess I just never expected to see another one, other than yours.”

“It was okay, though… you liked it?”

She nodded. “It was… very nice.”

“What happened?”

She shrugged. “I touched it. I held it in my hand, I… stroked it. I was kissing his stomach… then I took it in my mouth.”

I kissed her again on the mouth, amazed by what she’d done, amazed at how it thrilled me. The way she kissed me back, I’m sure she was amazed at how it all thrilled me, too. After ten years of marriage, she’d never known her husband might be like this.

“You said he wanted your… feet?” I said, a trifle breathless after our kiss.

“He knelt down in front of me,” she smiled broadly, “started kissing my legs and my feet.”