The idea was to set up a center of business news, which would offer the kind of in-depth coverage businesses needed to thrive in their own industries, which they couldn’t always guarantee from the increasingly downsized traditional news media available.
Marc had some clever ideas on financing, and on the production side, his idea was to create a platform where trusted freelancers would publish articles covering their own expert areas of business, whenever they had articles ready to publish. They would then receive the advertising revenue generated by their articles, minus a small percentage that would go to cover overheads.
We’d have to get a certain number of fellow freelancers to help us out with the idea, but if we were putting up the kind of quality coverage that businesses would normally expect from writers of the likes of the New York Times, the Washington Messenger and so on, then we would get the kind of readers needed to bring in the online advertising bucks.
Then once we were ready for phase two, there would be the opportunity to put together a premium section for the more in-depth analysis — and we would have the opportunity to sell subscriptions.
It was never going to be easy, but if Marc and I could set up the system while continuing to freelance ourselves, we hoped we might get the kind of momentum to make the business a success.
I was so distracted by the whole thing, but the enormous hope it suddenly gave me for my struggling career, that I almost missed the fact that one day shortly after the New Year, a little box of condoms appeared in the bathroom cabinet.
It almost made my heart stop to see it.
Was Izzie really up for playing the Game again?
Chapter Thirty-Five
You know what they say about absence making the heart grow fonder? Well, the effect is stronger when your wife is away at a conference, or something like that, and she knows she’s allowed to enjoy herself with other men while she’s away.
Each time Izzie went away, I would fantasize that she might be tempted to try our little Game once again. She’d call me before she went to sleep at night, and I’d be hopeful she might drop some little hints that she was seeing someone while she was away. She didn’t, though.
It strengthened the tug on my heartstrings until she got back, and always meant for a fiery reunion in the bedroom — but after C, for a long while she just didn’t seem interested in other men.
Then she had some kind of event at a journalism school in Arizona that would take her away from me for four nights. Izzie was a speaker at the event — sharing her experience in the business with an audience of hopeful college students. If anything by then, I was no longer so optimistic, I wasn’t expecting anything.
As often happened since I was a flexible freelancer, I was able to drive out to Dulles to pick Izzie up from the airport. This time, though, as I waited for her at the arrivals gate, I almost failed to spot her coming out — because she wasn’t alone.
I was stunned. Izzie had her arm locked in that of a young black guy with a shaven head, who seemed very presentable in a smart shirt and tie — businesslike, I’d say. Izzie herself was wearing a short floral summer dress, which might have been appropriate for Arizona, but even with a small blue jacket slung over the top, it wasn’t exactly right for DC this time of year. She looked hot in it, though.
She was smiling and laughing as she talked to him coming out of the doors into arrivals, and then her eyes were scouting around looking for me — and she wasn’t letting go of her new friend at all. It was as though they were the couple, and I was simply a friend meeting them at the airport.
I felt hopes renewed stirring in my loins, I can tell you.
“Hey honey!”
“Hey, good flight?” I smiled politely at Izzie’s new friend, waiting for some kind of explanation and introduction.
“Terrific,” she said, beaming as she kissed me, then glanced in my eyes before looking to her friend. “Honey, this is Julius.”
“Hi, Julius,” I shook the young man’s hand. He had a strong grip and a pleasant smile to go with it.
“He’s a student at Georgetown,” Izzie explained. “He was at my conference.”
“Journalism major?” I asked him.
“That’s right, sir.”
I flinched a little at being called ‘sir’. “Oh, you don’t have to call me that,” I said. “It’s Oscar, please.”
“Julius heard me speak at the conference — and then there he was, on my flight,” Izzie said.
We were walking toward the nearest long hallway that led down to the parking lot, and Izzie was still holding onto Julius, rather than me. I felt a couple of shivers pass through my body.
“You were sitting next to her on the plane, Julius?” I asked.
“Not to start with,” my wife replied for him. “But there was hardly anyone on the flight, I had a whole row to myself.”
“I recognized her,” Julius said in his warm baritone, “I know her from her articles — and when she’s on TV. I just wanted to say ‘hi’.”
“Great,” I said, feeling things squirming in my stomach, though for all I knew, Izzie had simply offered the guy a ride home.
Izzie squeezed Julius’s arm. Her body language was nothing less than first date lust, I swear. It was hot to see. “We got to talking, and I agreed to mentor him — you know, help him get into the industry,” she said.
“Oh, right,” I felt my heart sink.
We passed out of the doors into the crisp Northern Virginia air, with yours truly leading the way to where I’d parked the car.
“Well that sounds like a fantastic idea,” I said, or something similarly positive.
“He showed me a few things he’d written — he’s very good,” she was proud of him. But why was she clinging onto him like that if she was just going to be a professional mentor?
We got to the car, and as I opened the trunk to put Izzie’s and her friend’s luggage inside, would you believe it, but both of them climbed into the back of the car — as though I was the chauffeur.
It made me tremble a little. If he was just a friend, if he was just a college student to be mentored, surely he would have gone in the back and she would have sat next to me in the front?
I kept calm, climbed into the driver’s seat.
“Then we were talking for, like, hours,” Izzie said. I glanced in the mirror. She was holding his hand. “Well, it’s a four hour flight, so I guess it was three hours or so.”
“Uh-huh,” I said, reversing out of the space.
“And we were talking about everything,” she went on, “and I guess we got to talking about the Game.”
“Okay…”
Now my heart was thumping against my chest cavity.
“I kissed him,” she said, and would you believe it, I was hard as a rock as I was sitting there up front. “And he asked me if I was breaking the rules of the Game, because I hadn’t left any clues for my husband to let him know something might happen.”
I glanced in the mirror again, and Julius was looking in the mirror at me, a trifle anxious I thought — trying to read in my eyes how I was responding to the news that he’d been kissing my wife on their flight.
“I don’t think it’s a hard and fast rule, not if something unexpected crops up,” I said, and saw him visibly relax.
“That’s what I said,” Izzie beamed.
Then she leaned over, and Julius turned his head to her, and the two of them kissed right there in the back of our car. Jesus.
I had to adjust how I was sitting in the driver’s seat to give my burgeoning erection room.
“So anything happen on the flight?” I asked, not really wanting to break up the long, lingering kiss, but needing to know everything.
“Not really,” Julius said.
Izzie added, “There were flight attendants everywhere. I mean, swarming. I think there were more of them than passengers. We were kissing like teenagers, though.”
And there they were, at it again. I noticed Izzie’s pale hand
sliding over his broad chest, dropping down to his lap, feeling out the bulge in his pants.
Julius was keeping his hands to himself, however, and I sensed he was still a little uncertain. It wasn’t an everyday situation, I suppose.
Then she was saying, “We were talking about whether, you know, the guys I was with knew that you allowed me to see them. And I guess maybe it’s not entirely ethical, you know, not telling them…”
“Yeah, but they were basically stealing my wife,” I said. “We hardly owed them anything.”
“That’s what I said,” Julius said. “And they know you’re married. They have to at least suspect you still sleep with your husband.”
“I don’t know…” Izzie was saying. “I was thinking maybe guys wouldn’t want to date me, if they knew.”
“If they knew I knew?” I asked. “Or if they knew you were still sleeping with me.”
“Both. Either. I don’t know,” she shrugged. “But Julius said he wouldn’t care if you knew. Or if I was still sleeping with you. He’d still date me.”
“And so here we are,” I said, feeling as though fireworks were going off in my chest. Was she really saying what I thought she was saying? This would be a new dynamic, that was for sure.
“Here we are,” Izzie grinned, and turned to kiss Julius again.
Julius asked me, “So you really don’t mind me… dating your wife, sir?”
“Just so long as you stop calling me ‘sir’,” I said. “Have you two had dinner?”
“On the flight,” Izzie said, and she was back to kissing her new date, her hands crawling all over the sizable presence in his pants. And now his hand was sliding up her thigh.
“Can I drop you anywhere, Julius?” I asked.
But Izzie broke off from him to say, “Oh no, he’s coming home with us tonight.”
*
It was kind of difficult concentrating on driving while the two of them made out like teens in the back row of the movie theater, and a few times I felt like pulling over to check out what was going on.
The deep breathing, the sighs, the quiet moans. The silky sounds of hands gliding over clothing as they explored each other. It was driving me nuts.
I imagined they were going a little further than they’d been able to on the plane, with the flight crew breathing down their necks. In the solid traffic of the Beltway, I was able to glance back and see Izzie’s hand on his lap, stroking him — and I could see Julius slip his hand up her inner thigh, under the hem of her short dress.
Was he touching her?
Somebody beeped at me for hesitating after the vehicle in front of me began moving away again, and I hit the gas pedal.
They were stroking each other through their clothes, I was sure of that. And along with the cocktail of her perfume and his subtle cologne, I even started to believe I could detect the hint of female arousal in the air.
What was going to happen when we got home? With Izzie dating someone who not only knew that I knew, but didn’t seem reluctant to fool around with her in front of me? I tried to imagine how I might feel in Julius’s place. I guess when I was a student, if I’d had a chance with someone as beautiful as Izzie, I might have agreed to some no-strings-attached fun even if I knew the husband knew. But in front of him? I wasn’t so sure.
I’d never been massively confident when it came to sex. Sex in front of someone else — a husband no less — probably would have made me wilt. Although assuming that Julius was around 10 years younger than me, there was probably less of a risk of performance problems even in front of an assembled audience.
Kind of exciting to think of my Izzie bedding a college guy again. And this one was going to go all the way.
When we did get home, I was the one feeling a little awkward. What was I supposed to do? Leave them to it? Had they actually suggested I was supposed to watch them, or what? I got out of the car to retrieve the luggage from the trunk, and the two of them stayed in there. I ended up taking the cases inside, and then up to the bedroom. Well, I assumed Julius might be staying the night.
I came out at the top of the stairs to see Izzie and Julius walking in, arm-in-arm. Izzie’s smile was huge, that flirty smile she used with strangers she wanted to impress.
“Nice place you guys have,” Julius said.
“Thanks,” Izzie glanced up at me as the front door closed behind them, and it almost seemed to be her thanking me for letting her have this new man right in front of me.
I paused at the top of the stairs, not quite sure where I should be. It was a good vantage point, though, to see Izzie pull Julius to her, place her hands up and around the back of his neck, and pull him into another kiss.
He put his arms around her waist as she slipped her tongue in his mouth, and then as they continued to suck on each other’s lips, his hands dropped to her behind, quietly slipping up her dress as he held her round cheeks.
I perched on the top step, not wanting to come downstairs now, fearing my presence might cause interruption.
Julius suddenly turned Izzie, making her let out an excited squeal, though she wasn’t going to stop him manhandling her. She put her hands on the back of the couch, pushing out her behind for him so he could push up her dress, exposing her fine ass and her black thong.
He crouched, his hands gripping her cheeks firmly, squeezing them, kneading them as he began kissing her there.
Izzie yelped as he tore off her panties in one blindingly quick motion, then she moaned long and low as he grabbed her hips to pull her wet pussy to his mouth.
Well, she’d always liked dating the domineering types, I thought. Provided a nice counterpoint to my gentle treatment.
Propping herself up on the back of the couch, Izzie pushed up her butt to give him easy access to her sex, and she was panting in no time as he wedged his face between her buttocks to feast on her married pussy.
He was a sizable guy — huge hands sprawling over her pale skin, and as I watched it seemed he had a huge tongue, too, to slide inside her.
“Oh God… that’s so good…” she moaned, and from where she was standing, was able to turn her head to look up at me.
It was such a powerful turn-on to gaze into her eyes as another man ate her. To see the arousal and the gratitude and the love in her face as she beamed up at me.
I heard a couple of cracks as Julius slapped her behind. Jesus — was this whole spanking thing that common? Were all other guys slapping their women, and it was just me who didn’t see the attraction? Nevertheless, it wasn’t hard, just playful really.
Julius allowed her to stand, to turn back to him, to remove his tie and unfasten the buttons on his shirt. She left it to him to pull off his shirt as she released him from his pants, revealing the sizable beast he carried between his legs. Not quite so large as C, I thought, but larger than most guys, larger than me. His girth, in particular, was impressive, with a prominent vein that just seemed to emphasize the sense of power about that thing.
Izzie knelt and kissed his tip, and I was mesmerized to watch her stretch her lips around that thing, and begin to coax his length with her mouth.
She moaned as she sucked on him, as she stroked his shaft with her hand, enjoying the chance to play with a near-stranger’s manhood, and the exoticism of his beautifully dark flesh.
He was groaning as she toyed with him, but then she pulled away, stood up, and grabbed his hand to lead him to the stairs.
“Isn’t he beautiful?” she asked me as they climbed the stairs up toward me.
He gave me a respectful nod as they passed me on the landing, and I just let them go on, to the bedroom. Was I really meant to go with them, to watch? Or was I supposed to hang out in the spare room like I had before C came along?
I went along, I hovered in the doorway of the master bedroom to see him lifting her dress up to expose her nudity and lack of a bra, those stiff nipples of hers desperate for attention. I watched them stand and kiss like lovers reunited, Izzie using both hands to caress and gently
pump his hard cock.
I watched as he pushed her onto her back on the bed and knelt on the mattress between her thighs. I saw him roll a pale condom down his large member, then part her legs further, and touch his sheathed cock against her glistening pussy. I could smell the musty, spicy scent of her arousal as he patted that thing against her open flower.
“Go on,” she moaned as he stroked her soaking lips with the tip of his cock. “Fuck me so my husband can see.”
My pulse was racing. I could hardly believe that this guy would so brazenly fuck my wife right in front of me — but that was exactly what he intended to do. I took a few steps into the room, found myself a place perched on the window sill where I could see everything in glorious Technicolor.
The young black guy eased the tip of his huge cock into my wife’s dripping wet pussy.
“Oh fuck…” she groaned.
I found myself wondering if she’d ever been with someone like Julius before. Come to think of it, if she’d ever been with anyone who wasn’t from the same racial background.
I watched that thing stretching her, and how she gasped when it did. He fucked her with just the tip, holding her ankles as he entered her, delving a fraction deeper with each thrust.
“God you’re stretching me…” she whispered, as though she knew saying such a thing would make the hairs rise on the back of my neck.
Izzie had become so much more vocal during sex since we’d started playing the Game.
I watched him sink completely into her, filling her, forcing out the air from her lungs as he did so. He pushed her knees up under her chin as he continued to fuck her, supporting his body on strong arms, his hips moving as though he were doing push-ups in some football practice rather than making love to another man’s wife.
“Oh fuck…” Izzie gasped, and I found myself believing she was enjoying this more than she’d ever enjoyed C.
I was just entranced watching that thing sinking into her, glistening with her juices, better than any toy. I had to hope she could have her sexual thrills with other men without resorting to the types who would spank her, who would harm her, who would humiliate her.
The Game (A Hotwife Adventure) Page 29