Madeleine Strays: A Wife-Watching Romance (6 page)

Eight

By midnight, the date clock ticking on past seven hours, Hugo had been quietly hopeful that the length of Madeleine’s date meant at least she was enjoying herself, wherever she was.

Then she sent him a text:

> On my way home!

From a state of very close to relaxation, Hugo’s heart suddenly picked up the pace. What had happened on her date? He was so desperate to know.

He sent her a reply:

> Fantastic—can’t wait until you get home—did you have a good time?

Her reply sent shockwaves and butterflies and fireworks through his entire body.

> Wonderful! Had such a great time, going to see him again next week!

He didn’t want to ask her via text messages how far she’d gone on her wonderful date, somehow that seemed tacky. Instead, he texted back:

> Hope you’re in the mood to tell me all about it! Hurry home! Love you honey xx

He was waiting for her perched on the back of the couch, arms folded, looking stern when she came in.

She looked absolutely stunning. Slipping off her long gray coat, Hugo was startled all over again with brevity of her dress.

“Hey,” she said, looking at him with more than a hint of uncertainty in her eyes.

Was he angry with her? He could see the question imprinted on her face as she approached him like some kind of penitent sinner seeking absolution.

God, she looked incredible. Had she reapplied her make-up on the way home? There seemed to be a very faint hint of old lipstick smeared around her mouth, which she’d very nearly removed totally, yet a clue remained as to her misdeeds.

Hugo felt himself bristling up, yet warm arousal was blossoming inside him at the same time, his manhood thickening.

She gazed into his eyes, trying to read him. Faintly afraid.

She stepped up to him, a couple of feet away. He could breathe in her sweet fragrance. Tilted her head demurely, gently apologetic yet unsure quite what it was about her evening’s behavior that had apparently displeased her husband.

Hugo maintained his stern expression, just a few moments too long to be taken seriously. He was smiling inside at offering her a brief taste of the kind of role-play that she had duped him with so many times that year. But he was too horny and too curious to maintain the act of an offended husband who has discovered his wife’s affair.

“You’ve been a naughty girl, haven’t you?” he said.

Her intent stare shifted subtly from one of uncertainty and fear into wicked lustful excitement as she understood his game.

“I couldn’t help it,” she said, trying to conceal her smile. “He was just so nice, so charming.”

Hugo nodded sagely. He said: “How far did you go with him?”

She said, “I kissed him.”

“Did you enjoy it? Did you have… chemistry with him?”

“Yes, and yes. A whole lot of chemistry.”

Hugo felt his heart leap at that, at the barely-concealed exhilaration in her expression as she mentioned her chemistry with this other man.

“You were with him a very long time,” he said. “Are you sure you only kissed him?”

Flames were flickering in her dark eyes. “I kissed him, he kissed me, we kissed,” she spoke slowly, and he watched her lips as she formed the words, in awe that she had actually made out with another man.

He knew she was telling the truth this time. He could feel it.

“He walked me home,” she said, and he regretted not being able to see the date escort her back to this building, see who he was, whether he was worthy. “It took a while to get here. We kept stopping in doorways.”

“Stopping in doorways? Why?”

“Because we couldn’t keep our hands off each other.”

Hugo felt so strange. He felt as though his chest cavity contained nothing but a carousel, one of the bright rowdy fairground varieties with flashing lights and horses rising and falling as the whole thing revolved. This was exactly what he wanted, wasn’t it? For Madeleine to have a blazing love affair that made her so passionate she couldn’t keep herself apart from her lover, one that lifted her up and turned her into a great beacon of energy.

“You were kissing him in these doorways?”

“Kissing, holding, pressing myself to him.”

“Show me.”

He loved the burning desire in her eyes—the fact that she appeared to want her husband as much as the lover of which she spoke, the fact that Hugo was driving her crazy. Was she grateful to him for having this fantasy? There was that sense blended in with her desire—the feeling that she wanted to reward him for having a kink, a fetish about her sexual liberation.

She paused briefly, as though recalling her doorway liaisons. Then she grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, surprising him with her strength and assertiveness, pulling him to her, her mouth closing against his, her lips crushing his, sucking them as her hands slipped up to cradle his head.

Hands falling naturally to her waist, he wondered at the soft heat of her mouth, the sweetness of her lips, the ferocity of her kiss. She tasted of sweet liquor, accented by the unmistakable bitterness of tobacco smoke. It almost made it feel as though he was kissing another woman—emphasizing to Hugo that Madeleine had been experiencing a different life, albeit for one night only.

“He was a good kisser?” Hugo breathed as they parted, holding her firmly, his hands just above her hips, locking her there standing between his thighs.

“He was. Not so good as you, but he made me feel all… melty inside.”

“Melty,” Hugo nodded.

She pulled him to her again, kissing him, seeking his reassurance that he still wanted her, still needed her, still loved her even though these lips had been courting another.

He stood up, continuing their kiss, his hand reaching around her head, feeling her silky hair, holding her against him as he sucked on her lips, her tongue, pressing his nose against hers.

“Was he annoyed that you didn’t let him do anything more than kiss you in doorways?” Hugo asked her.

“No,” she said. “He asked me for another date, though.”

Hugo looked up at her. “I thought the guy was supposed to wait a day or two before he asked you something like that?”

Madeleine shrugged, “It is the 21st Century now, sweetie.”

He nodded, then kissed his way down her neck, adoring her heat, her velvet skin, the fragrance she’d reapplied on her way up in the elevator. Then he was kissing down her chest, pushing his face into her cleavage, shoving down her dress to reveal that black sheer bra.

“Are you disappointed?” he asked her. “You bought fancy underwear for him… you shaved your pussy.”

She said, “I bought that for you. I shaved for you.”

“For me?”

“Lucy pointed out a few websites about your…condition.”

“My condition?”

“It said guys like you enjoy preparing their wives for dates, having the idea that their wives are dressing up in fancy underwear, making themselves all sexy and slutty for another guy.”

“Right. I suppose it was quite exciting getting you ready.”

“You loved it. And I just loved getting you going like that. Having such power over you. I guess I get that from all of this…”

He slid her dress down over her hips now, letting it fall the rest of the way to the floor, leaving his beautiful wife standing there in sheer black panties and her bra, which allowed him to see her nipples and her smooth shaven slit.

Then she was pulling away from him, unfastening the buttons on his shirt, kissing and licking his chest, breathing in his scent.

“So you have a second date all lined up?” he asked her.

“We do, yes,” she smiled, then stood up, turned her back to him, letting him run his hands all over her half-naked body, feeling those glorious curves, her smooth soft skin. She was leaning back into him as he touched her, pressing her behind against his hardness, feeling how turned on he was, her stance almost reminiscent of a lap dance.

“And?” he said, cupping her breasts and slipping his chin over her shoulder to kiss her mouth. “What will you guys be doing together on the second date?”

She smiled as she sucked on his lips again, tilting her hips this way and that to rub his hard cock against her body, loving how aroused he was by her.

“He wants to take me to the symphony on our second date,” she said, then she dropped down, turning to face him, and crouching there, began unfastening his belt, obviously craving his weapon of choice since she’d apparently had no access to that of her date.

“The symphony, huh? Very cultured.”

“Isn’t he? They’re doing the New World Symphony at the Met and you know how much I love that one. Some of his friends are performing.”

“Sounds wonderful.”

“Yes, I thought so.”

He loved the way her face brightened when she’d eventually pulled apart his belt, opened his fly and dragged his pants down his thighs to reveal his big hard cock poised and ready for her.

“He sounds like a catch,” he said, sighing as her fingers closed around his girth, and she took his tip into her hot mouth. “You think you might be tempted to go beyond a few kisses next time?”

She grinned, even with her mouth full of his manhood. “I hope so,” she said. He shuddered in her mouth, and she felt it. It seemed to drive her on, her head sinking down on his shaft, taking him in so incredibly deep.

He stroked her cheek as she withdrew his length and started licking him.

“Tell me what happened,” he said. “You went for dinner with him?”

“Yes,” she said between long licks along the underside of his erection. “He took me to Toscana.”

“Expensive.”

“He was paying,” she grinned, took him into her mouth briefly again, all the while Hugo stroking her hair. “It was just nice. I relaxed with him. We had some Chianti and just talked and talked.”

A few more bobs down on his cock, as though she couldn’t resist him, couldn’t get enough of this thing. Then she was licking him again, his shaft glistening with moisture already in the low light of the table lamps.

“I guess we had a load of food—I don’t know, pasta, salad, meat, veggies—it just came in little bursts as a distraction while we talked,” she said. “We really took our time, got to know each other.”

“He’s an interesting guy?” Hugo asked, leaning forward to slip the straps of her bra of her shoulders.

She reached behind to flick the catch, freeing her exquisite breasts from captivity so that he could fondle them while she sucked his cock. Her nipples really were rock hard.

Continuing to pump his length with her hands, she said: “His family comes from old money. I guess he wouldn’t need to work at all, but he’s already done so much...”

Hugo was impressed at how his wife was pitching this guy to him. She was obviously quite taken with him, which was remarkable enough after a single date, considering what happened on her first date. His jealousy flickered on, growing intense as he watched her speak of her date’s clever little business start-ups, which he seemed to get going only to sell off once he started getting bored. Was he the same with women—lacking long-term commitment? Somehow that made Hugo feel easier about this.

He leaned forward to kiss her now, tasting the faint hint of himself on her lips, which made him wonder whether he would handle kissing these beautifully soft lips once they’d stretched around another man’s cock.

Their tongues tangoed, Madeleine really exploring his kiss—still comparing him to her date, perhaps.

“Does he often date married women?” he asked, urging her up now.

“I was his first.”

He peeled her panties down over the sweet roundness of her peachy behind, and supporting herself on the back of the couch, pushing out her butt, she allowed her underwear to fall to the ground, leaving her naked other than her high-heeled shoes.

“You told him I approved of this date?”

“No,” she said.

He caressed her back, kissed her shoulder, in awe at the effect her curves had on him. She turned to kiss him again, standing, her back to his chest so that his hands could sweep over her breasts, and down her stomach to her mound.

He couldn’t help but let out a little gasp as his fingers brushed over her smooth pussy. Reminded that she had shaved her sex completely, for the first time while she’d been with Hugo. Shaved for her date.

She was seriously wet. Hugo found that his mouth was watering.

“I guess he found it quite fascinating that I was stepping out on my marriage,” she said, turning, following his prompt to perch on the back of the sofa.

He kissed her breast, sucked in one of her bullet-like nipples.

“I didn’t tell him that you wanted me to date him,” she said, a broad smile breaking out on her face as her husband sank to his knees, his face hovering between her thighs, appreciating the perfection of her hairless sex. “But I didn’t lie, either.”

“Selective editing,” he smiled, and closed his eyes as he inhaled her darkly thrilling scent.

“I told him we have a passionate relationship, that I’ve never stopped being madly in love with you, that nothing would ever threaten that,” she said, then moaned as he licked her wet groove, slowly coursing the tip up her sweet valley up to her clit.

“He was okay about that?”

“Oh, yes. He’s not looking for a relationship. I told him I was only after a little fun—you know, that I had the urge to feel the thrill of dating again after so many years. He seemed of similar mind—he’s not married, but he’s not aiming to settle with anyone.”

She moaned as he held her hips, fluttered his tongue lightly over her clit, loving the feeling of her smooth shaven pussy against his face, the aroma of her arousal, the tangy flavor of her nectar.

“Oh God…”

He prompted her: “So when dinner was done…”

She drew in her breath as he penetrated her with a stiffened tongue, pushing his face into her, delving as deeply as he could in her succulent womanhood.

“We went to a bar a few streets over,” she panted as he fucked her with his face, one hand on his head. “I didn’t see what it was called—it was one of those places that’s just a door on a street, secret, for people in the know only.”

Her whole body was heaving as he now lapped at her folds, stroking her with his tongue, moaning gently to stir her with the vibrations of his voice as he sampled her syrup.