“You’re okay with that?”
He straightened, kissed her mouth again, sucking on her lips, her tongue, a little astounded at himself for not wanting her to immediately have a shower, cleanse herself of any trace she’d been with another. A little dumbfounded, actually, at how electrified he was to sense the slight hints of her other man still lingering on her.
He looked her in the eyes. “I like that you have a different interpretation of our fantasy. That it’s yours independent of me having it.”
“But it’s not entirely compatible with your version,” she said, eyes apologetic.
He shrugged. “Sure it is,” he said. “As long as you share the details eventually. I don’t mind waiting.”
“I could do it your way,” she said, offered. “It’s just… you know… when it feels most natural…”
“Of course, you get most out of it from pursuing it independently,” he nodded. Kissed her. “I’m not sure I’d like to miss your first time.”
“My first time?” she looked concerned. As though she’d jumped the gun, perhaps because of her earlier actions with Connor.
He smiled. “Well,” he said, “when it’s your first time actually going the whole way with your date. I’d like to at least know it’s happened. You know, that we’ve finally crossed that threshold.”
“Right,” she said.
She was wearing only her see-through black panties now. Hugo led her to the couch. He could already smell the slight undercurrent of her arousal through the remaining traces of her perfume, knew she must be as turned on as he was—having kissed and gone down on her date that evening, without Connor reciprocating as far as Hugo was aware.
She allowed herself to be led, to be positioned.
“So I found out a few things about you tonight,” he said to her, keeping his tone of voice light, casual.
“Oh? What was Lucy saying?”
Hugo knelt between her knees, pushing her legs open kissing the bottom of her inner thigh. Parting her knees, he was greeted by a waft of her spicy scent, which made him shiver to behold, confirmation of how pent up she was already, primed for him by another man. From where he was, he could also see through the semi-transparent gauze of her panties, see the tantalizing shape of her pussy lips.
His mouth was watering.
He said, “Well, I guess I was curious about this fantasy of yours and exactly where it came from. You know how shrinks always say that your character is shaped by your formative experiences.”
“Okay. Are you saying your fantasy comes from your formative experiences?” she smiled, deflecting the question back to him.
“Oh, you know that’s true,” he said, kissing his way slowly up her thigh. “When I first asked you out, I thought you were probably the most gorgeous girl in the world and were completely out of my league. When I married you, I was certain of it. So my fantasy’s probably grown out of all that insecurity.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“So from what Lucy hinted, I think something happened to you that’s spawned this need for a secret romance,” he said.
“What?”
He kissed her other inner thigh, grazing his cheek over the rough, soaking material of her panties, feeling the heat of her pussy through it along with the abundant moisture.
“In fact,” he said, turning his head to nudge his nose and lips against her mound, her scent so wonderfully strong it was almost overwhelming, “I would even hazard a guess that something happened on your bachelorette party.”
Madeleine was blushing furiously. She said, “How much did Lucy tell you?”
He gently but firmly pulled off her panties now, peeling them down her thighs, revealing that beautifully smooth shaven pussy of hers.
He said, “She told me you had a dark secret, of which only you could tell me the full details. And that if I couldn’t handle the truth, then I can’t handle you dating again.”
Madeleine nodded, smiled as he pulled her panties over her ankles and off, before pressing them to his nose, inhaling her scent before casting them aside.
“I suppose she’s right,” she said.
He pulled her thighs apart again, this time revealing her pretty pink flower in all its glistening glory, shaved for another man. Then, hovering over her as though he would go no further if she didn’t tell him all, so close she could feel his hot breath on her sensitive folds, he prompted her, “So?”
She took a deep breath. “I guess something did happen on my bachelorette party. Are you mad at me?”
He shook his head. “How could I be?” he said. “I think it’s hot.”
He dipped his head, tasted her, felt her heat, her desire. She placed her hand on the back of his head as he began to lap at her tangy, succulent nectar. The way she writhed under him, gasped for breath as he ate her, stroked his head urgently, told him how much she needed release.
“Tell me what happened,” he urged her, nudging his nose against her clit as he forced his tongue as deep inside her as he could reach.
Madeleine groaned.
She said, “I’m not sure I’m ready just yet.”
Hugo sighed, but had to accept her right to open up when she was ready.
“I guess I walked into that,” he said.
“I promise I’ll tell you soon. Is that all right?”
“Sure.”
“So fuck me. Right now.”
Hugo took one last long deep lick along her reddened, swollen pussy lips, sopping up as much of her flavor as he could. Then he was up on his feet, helping her up from the couch, allowing her to lead him through to the bedroom where she could work on removing his clothes.
Kissing her, tasting those lips that had stretched around another man’s cock that night, as she unfastened his belt, pushed down his pants and underwear to reveal his full length. Lapping at her, fondling her exquisite breasts and those hard pink pellets pushing out from them while she stroked his erection, using both hands to feel just how hard he was for her.
Naked, she pushed him down on the bed, crawled between his legs, ran her lips and nose along his full length, breathing in his scent, feeling the softness of the skin along his shaft.
Comparing him to the cock she’d sucked on earlier that night?
She pulled herself up to straddle his lap, pressing his hardness to the soft wet flesh between her legs. She shuffled forward, and he felt the head of his cock slip inside her, his sensitive tip pulsing at the searing heat of her pussy now admitting entrance.
Hugo held her waist, looked up at her magnificent breasts as they jostled with the rhythm of her riding him, at her flushed face framed by golden hair, adoring this sexy, confident woman she had become since they’d arrived in New York.
She gripped his forearm as he held her, as though she could keep him from running out the door now.
“You know we would have got through it if you’d told me back then something happened on your bachelorette night,” he said. “Even then, you wouldn’t have lost me.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I just couldn’t face it.”
He kissed her, said: “You know, even back then, I had a funny feeling about you going on that bachelorette party. I was okay about you going on it, I was okay about not asking what went on. It felt exciting that you might be misbehaving.”
“Even then?” she asked, eyebrows raised.
“I guess we were getting married, I didn’t have the insecurities I had when we were only dating. So I thought it was sexy, you going on a naughty girls’ night out.”
“I almost told you,” she said. “Lucy said I should wait until a while after the wedding. I guess I forgot about it after everything…”
“You were quite frisky after that bachelorette weekend, so I guess that was why. I remember you wanting to jump my bones every moment you could.”
“I needed to reassure myself you still wanted me.”
“I remember thinking how maybe I’d like it if you went on more bachelorette parties
.”
Hugo flashed his eyes as though tempting her to tell him more about what happened that night. He gripped her waist tighter still, pulling her on him. He took one of her hard nipples in his mouth, and suddenly she was accelerating on his lap, pumping her hips to fuck him hard, his cock becoming some kind of piston inside her tight wet pussy.
It wasn’t long before she was trembling over him, an expansive orgasm blooming through her.
Hugo, though, wasn’t done with her, manhandling her onto her hands and knees, lining up beside her to take her from behind. He lunged forward, forcing out her breath as he penetrated her.
As he slammed into her, his thoughts were dwelling on the picture of her with Connor’s cock in her hands, in her mouth, his come pumping down her throat.
Such a wicked girl, such a sexy woman.
She cried out with the force as he exploded deep inside her, but as he was doing so, Hugo found himself imagining that it was Connor doing this, Connor penetrating Madeleine, Connor fucking her and coming inside her.
Maybe he was ready for that final step. It was going to happen.
Fourteen
With the knowledge that it was definitely about to happen—any day, any hour, any minute—Hugo spent a lot of time wondering whether he’d made the right decision to allow Madeleine the space to conduct her affair behind closed doors.
He wanted to be right there, as it was all happening, seeing the expressions on her face as she took that monumental step. He wanted to witness the surprise and the shock on her pretty face when she felt another man inside her for the first time in years. He wanted to feel the jealousy coursing through his veins as a man who made her heart skip penetrated her most intimate parts and took her to heaven and back.
He had to focus on the promise that at some point, when she was ready, she would really divulge all.
Madeleine had gone down on Connor, in the middle of a public park, and had swallowed his come. She had had permission to play with other guys for a long while now, but only now did she have the confidence and the opportunity to do whatever she wanted any time she felt like it.
She could invite him around to their apartment during a lunch break if she wanted to, while Hugo was at work. She could slip away after work, before her husband got home. She could spend her entire day off engaging in nefarious activities while her beloved was none the wiser.
Hugo did find himself checking the apartment when he got home in the evenings, to see if there were any signs that Madeleine had been entertaining while he’d been away at the office. It was even quietly exciting that he might find something—perhaps a torn condom wrapper on the carpet by the bed, a couple of coffee mugs denoting some mid-day rendezvous, one of the mugs sporting smudge of that blazing-scarlet lipstick she wore to seduce.
There were no signs of mischief at the apartment, but the mere possibility wound Hugo up into a ball of tension and lust, fueling the fire of passion every night after that Central Park experience.
There was no question that she would be seeing Connor soon. Madeleine herself gave off the faint impression that she was now building up towards another date with her new flame that would involve more than just oral sex. There was a new nervousness about her as they made love each night—every night without fail, spurred on to new heights of passion.
Their frenzy in the bedroom each night also reassured Hugo that she wasn’t losing interest in him just because she had her eyes on another.
*
Wednesday night, Madeleine said she was too tired to make love, and it set alarm bells ringing in Hugo. He didn’t question it despite the fact that she’d been tired on previous nights as well, and had wanted sex.
As well as stating her tiredness before retiring, she had also reminded him she would be busy the next evening on one of her book events, and most likely back very late at night.
Hugo could hardly sleep—as far as he was concerned, it was the night before the big occasion.
While he supposed Madeleine was feeding him little white lies to give herself the time window for a full date, Hugo also fed her a few white lies of his own—starting with the late meeting he supposedly had in Newark that would mean he could have a lie-in the next morning.
The office received a different story—that he had a touch of food poisoning that day.
Staying in bed, feigning sleep while Madeleine got up ahead of him for once, meant he could keep an eye on her preparation for work. The clues continued to come thick and fast: she spent much longer in the shower than normal, in fact twice as long. He was certain it wasn’t merely leg-shaving time, either.
She kept checking he was asleep as she was figuring out what to wear. Hugo did well to maintain his sleep act considering the strong emotions stirring in him.
He managed to catch glimpses of her getting dressed—saw her perfectly smooth pussy, freshly shaven and immaculate for her next date. He saw her dress in a sexy little set of bra and panties—white with elegant black polka dots and black lace frills—which were a little nice for a mere work day. Her pants were tight in all the right places, her sweater warm but highlighting the sweet curves of her chest—she looked good enough to eat.
She applied make-up and a good dose of perfume, and Hugo was seriously hard as he lay there in the bed listening and taking the occasional sneak peak.
Before she left the room, she took one last look at her husband—checking he was still asleep, he assumed—and then retrieved a small bag from the bottom drawer of her dresser, taking something out to place inside her handbag.
He played dead, of course, even when she leaned over to kiss him goodbye, whispering, “I love you.”
Hearing the front door click shut as Madeleine left for the day, Hugo wondered if there had been something more significant in that parting than just a pleasantry before she headed out for the day.
His blood ran cold as he realized it could very well be the last time he saw her before she made love to Connor—before she finally became an adulterous wife, albeit with her husband’s consent.
His gentle nausea almost provided credence for the lie he’d told his company for his expected late arrival. The excitement he felt alongside it, though, was growing.
Confident he was on his own, Hugo got up and quietly opened the bottom drawer of Madeleine’s dresser. He saw the little shopping bag, and hoped for a clue as to what she had taken from it to put in her purse.
The shopping bag was white, unmarked—but inside, along with some light tissue paper, was a receipt. He was on the Internet in a flash, typing in the name of the retailer and the product into Google.
Oh, he knew the name of the retailer before it even came up on his laptop browser—but he didn’t know what she’d bought from it.
It turned out that she’d bought the sexiest looking lingerie set, complete with stockings and suspenders.
*
He did eventually stumble into work about 10 am, figuring it was best to spend the day actually diverting his attention elsewhere than his impending wife-sharing debut, despite his colleagues’ views that if he had food poisoning, he really ought to be at home that day.
“You do look a little rough,” Lowego said to him. “You know, no one will hold it against you if you were to slink off home.”
“I’m okay,” he said, though his stomach was doing its best to make his story hold up. “Too much to do to let a some bad shrimp get in the way.”
Lowego had nodded sagely. Ray had thrown him a couple of airplane sick bags—God alone knew how he’d come by them.
He did have a fairly unproductive morning.
But as mid-afternoon rolled around, and he was none the wiser about his predicament, he decided he had nothing to lose from sending a text to Lucy. Lucy loved all this stuff anyway, didn’t she? She wasn’t going to deride him for asking her what she knew.
He tried not to sound pathetic when he texted her:
> So I get the feeling the big night might be tonight. You have any inside info?
He had to wait an agonizing twenty minutes for her to reply.
> You might be right. She’s spending the day with him today, so it’s all probably building up to something.
She was spending the day with Connor?
He texted back:
> She told me she was working today, has another book signing event tonight.
Lucy’s reply took the form of a photo, which took Hugo by surprise. It had clearly been taken by Madeleine’s phone—but not by her, judging from the angle. It showed her dressed up in warm clothing, face flushed with apparent cheer and possibly exercise, as she skated along the ice at Rockefeller Center.
Madeleine looked so happy, so alive in that picture, it made Hugo burn with jealousy that he wasn’t the cause of that happiness. And yet after a moment spent examining that little snap, he felt the tight grip around his heart loosen. He was the cause of that happiness—his encouragement for her to date other men had directly led to this moment.
He felt a warm glow the rest of the afternoon, thinking that she must have been having a wonderful day to look so completely jubilant as she did in that picture. It drove Hugo crazy that this new man in her life could be so obviously courting her, showing her a different side of New York—but it was a great thing that she could have such new experiences.
At the end of the working day, he was completely unsure what he was supposed to do with himself. He found himself checking out the website of Madeleine’s bookstore, to find that there was supposed to be another author evening that night. So she had to be there, surely? Perhaps she’d be there with Connor—Lucy had let slip that she had been helping him with his writing.
It was all he had to cling on to—as he got out of work, he went straight down to the bookstore, hoping to find his wife there in some capacity. Perhaps he’d be able to watch her from afar, interacting with Connor, taking him somewhere afterward.
When he got down there, though, a Champagne flute summarily thrust into his hand on the way in, to his consternation there was absolutely no sign of Madeleine or Connor.
Madeleine Strays: A Wife-Watching Romance Page 11