Madeleine Strays: A Wife-Watching Romance

by Max Sebastian

  It seemed the two men in Madeleine’s life both had to control themselves lest they bring a premature end to the evening—as Hugo found himself holding himself back, careful not to lose it to the searing sight of his wife with her mouth full of another man’s cock, Connor also seemed to find himself in danger of ignition.

  Hugo saw him usher Madeleine up onto her feet again, where they resumed their frantic kissing, only this time with Connor pressing his erect shaft against her, his clothes now a distant memory.

  Hugo watched as this other man, a man he had never met, slipped his hand between Madeleine’s thighs, pushing up her skirt, cupping her mound, though her little black panties stood in the way.

  She must have been so wet. Wetter, probably, than she’d ever been with Hugo. She was effectively making love to two men right now.

  Connor guided her back on the bed, and Hugo found his breathing deepening, his heart-rate quickening.

  But it wasn’t yet time for that ultimate act of extramarital liberation. As she lay back on the bed, Connor pushed up her skirt again to reveal those shockingly adult-looking stockings and suspenders, which leant her legs an almost magical eroticism. Madeleine was saying something that Hugo wished he could hear, while her new lover swept one hand up her thigh, to glide over her mound.

  He caressed her as they talked, and Hugo found it almost impossible to believe that straight-laced Madeleine, with whom he’d had so much difficulty in the past discussing anything involving sex, was now letting another man grope her pussy as they talked about something that had to be at least sex-related.

  She was all smiles, one semi-raised eyebrow suggesting the risqué nature of their conversation. It made Hugo slightly envious that she could apparently talk about something personal and erotic while with this other man, yet it had always been so difficult doing similar with her husband.

  Connor began kissing his way along her inner thigh, and Madeleine opened her legs for him wider still.

  Hugo found curiosity again overtaking any feelings of envy or jealousy as the man nudged up against her panties, and began caressing her through the thin black fabric, kissing her, inhaling her devilish scent in deep and very obvious breaths.

  Those panties had to be dripping wet by now.

  His wife seemed euphoric as the younger man reached for her waistband, and she lifted her hips to help him slide her underwear down past her behind, over her thighs, past her knees and away.

  Hugo stiffened further at the startling sight of his wife’s bare pussy, shaved completely clear. She was stunningly beautiful, whichever way she tended it, but now it was so different from the norm, and it was so clear how much trouble she’d taken to prepare it for this other man. It shocked and delighted Hugo.

  Connor also seemed to approve, and whatever he said to her made her faintly blush and respond with a bashful smile.

  Connor slowed his pace to a crawl as he returned to her smooth inner thigh, and accompanied his approach with more little kisses, building up to his arrival at that smooth, pretty little pink pussy.

  He was so slow, so patient, working her with soft kisses around her clit and her pussy lips, only occasionally venturing directly to her little sensitive button, though he clearly could not refrain from slipping his tongue deep into her slick groove, to taste the profuse moisture of her arousal.

  Madeleine had that little crease in her forehead just between her eyebrows, which told Hugo she was in pure ecstasy. Breathing deeply, for the most part she closed her eyes to cope with the forceful sensations flowing through her body, even tilting her head back as Connor continued to feast on her.

  Hugo wished he could hear her moans. It was one of the key disadvantages of watching them from so far. However, as the other man took her to heaven, the sheer joy was imprinted in every strain on her face, every gasping breath, every toss of her head.

  And then as she mouthed the words: “Oh my God” over and over, Hugo could tell how she felt—this was all about giving her a thrilling experience, and the fact it was clearly a thrill or her made Hugo feel incredible.

  Yet when her first peak was over, and Connor propped himself up on his arms to kiss a beaming Madeleine on the lips again, and then she pulled him up by his shirt collar to roll over her and onto the bed, Hugo found himself becoming intensely nervous again.

  Connor lay on his back across the bed, removing his shirt as Madeleine knelt by him, and took his hard cock in her hands. She stroked him, saying something to him.

  Connor reached under one pillow, so casual it had to speak volumes about his own promiscuous lifestyle, and there in his hand was a condom, which he held up for Madeleine’s approval.

  Hugo caught his breath.

  This was it. Hugo knew he could stop it—he could call her, he could text her, he could even flash the apartment lights on and off desperately if he wanted to.

  But there was something so very sexy about the thought of Madeleine having an extramarital affair.

  His Madeleine, so hot she had other men quivering in her wake, so fiery she couldn’t be satiated by a single guy. Sliding another man’s hard cock into her mouth, lubricating it so she could roll down that thin latex sheath, which would make it all okay for this man, this stranger, to sink his cock inside her tight, wet, married pussy.

  Oh God, there it was.

  With him in her hands, Madeleine suddenly turned her head and gazed out across the street. Hugo swallowed, though his throat was too dry to swallow anything. This was it.

  His cock stiffened as Hugo sat still, waiting. Knowing that if this didn’t happen now, it might not happen at all.

  Hugo tried to control his breathing, tried to keep calm. One beat, two beats, three beats… Madeleine gave a little nod, and then she lifted her leg over him, straddling Connor, still wearing her smart little skirt.

  His hands were shaking so much it was difficult to see through the binoculars—but he needed to. He could watch well enough without, but right now he needed to see those details. He needed to see her edge up his thighs, positioning herself over the man’s hips. He needed to see that little wiggle of her behind as her pussy touched down on his frighteningly erect manhood.

  They were lying across the bed, which gave Hugo prime view of his wife’s pert rear as she held her skirt up around her waist. He saw Connor’s hands gripping her round cheeks, he saw Madeleine’s hair falling in golden waves down her back. He saw her position that big, hard cock at her slick entrance.

  He couldn’t see their faces, either of them. But in that moment, that one-way, no-do-overs moment, his focus was on that one place where man and woman became one, where the most personal parts of Madeleine and Connor touched and then joined, the tip of another man’s cock slipping inside Hugo’s wife.

  All doubt and uncertainty vanished as Connor entered her.

  In the eyes of the law, Madeleine was now an adulteress.

  Eighteen

  All the nerves, all the uncertainty, all the cold clammy hands and gasping for breath along this whole epic journey ever since Madeleine had first revealed that innocent little kiss with her boss—it all felt like it culminated in this moment.

  And yet Hugo felt fine.

  Madeleine sank slowly down on Connor—the man had his full length inside her, filling her. Hugo felt fine, better than fine. He felt incredible. He thought he’d never forget how deeply she melted when her new lover sank his cock into her bare pussy for the first time.

  What was most surprising to Hugo was the sudden lightening he felt, the pressure quickly evaporating from his shoulders as he watched her. He’d had hints of it along the way, him unburdening his guilt as he watched Madeleine having fun, going one step further. He’d even felt it disappear entirely on brief occasions when she had him believing she’d finally slept with someone else. Yet here as he saw his beautiful wife having her wicked way with a younger man across the street, something that could not possibly be faked in any way, the guilt had boiled away in an instant.

 
Madeleine looked spectacular rising and falling on that powerful shaft, her flaxen locks shimmering as she rose and fell on him, her body undulating so gracefully, her legs squeezing around his thighs.

  She leaned forward on Connor, pushing out her butt, giving her husband such an exposed view, he was quite transfixed. Could either of them have thought when they first came to New York that one day, she would actually have another guy’s cock penetrating her like this? Sliding in and out, stretching her.

  She pulled her skirt off and away.

  They were laughing, Connor lifting her, rolling her, wrestling with her. Hugo could see their faces as they moved around the bed, playing, play-fighting, tussling. Madeleine was clearly having fun, fantastic fun. Connor was clearly enamored.

  Madeleine lined up on all fours, facing down the bed, side on to the windows and her husband’s gaze. She swung her hair out of her face, dropped down onto her elbows, presented her rear for her new lover’s use, her position emphasizing the sensual curves of her body.

  He saw her glance back, offer that sideways look and seductive smile that invited him to penetrate her again, fuck her, violate her.

  Connor needed little encouragement to kneel between her legs, line himself up behind her, one hand gripping her hip as the other guided his huge phallus back to her awaiting sex.

  Hugo caught his breath as he saw his wife’s mouth open impossibly wide as she responded to the other man’s cock squeezing back inside her. Sucking in her breath through her teeth as he moved within her tight wet pussy, pushing herself up on her hands so she could look over her shoulder at him, check his response.

  He saw her looking out of the windows as the toned, tanned Adonis began pumping her. She was looking out at the street, across the street. She was looking up into Hugo’s eyes.

  Could she see him? She knew he was there. Could she see him sitting in the window, his naked form highlighted only by the light from the street?

  It appeared almost as though she could. Through the binoculars, he saw her giving him a fiery look, and then she was licking her lips in clear indication of how delicious it was to be fucked hard by another man while her loving husband looked on in blissful consent.

  She knelt up while he was still inside her, leaning back to kiss him. They looked so good together, a truly beautiful couple.

  Watching her taking it from behind made it all seem so animalistic. That big pole disappearing into her rear, the pale doe being taken by a magnificent golden stag, rocking back and forth against him as he pumped into her, her mouth opening wide to suck in oxygen as she coped with the forceful feelings from his hard fucking.

  Hugo had never wanted her so badly. He felt a rush of testosterone swamp his body. He felt strong, powerful, felt like knocking Connor out of the way, seizing hold of the vulnerable female, taking her by force.

  It was like taking some kind of drug—a pure hit of adrenaline.

  But he had to be patient. Madeleine seemed to be building to what had to be a powerful orgasm, crying out as Connor pounded her from the rear. Then she was shaking, trembling, and Hugo felt a familiar pulse of acidic jealousy ripple through him. Another man had made her come.

  Connor continued to pump into her, and Hugo wondered if this was the road to his orgasm as well.

  He pulled out of her and peeled the condom off, leaving that beast of a cock bare, uncontrolled, dangerous. It shocked Hugo, making him fear immediately that this young man was going to sink back inside Madeleine without protection.

  But he didn’t slip back inside her. He stepped up off the bed, and Madeleine turned to face him, sitting on the bottom edge of the bed, once again side on to her watching husband.

  He saw through those powerful lenses his wife’s hand curl around her lover’s rigid shaft once again. She kissed the tip of his shiny head.

  As he stood there in front of her, Madeleine cupped her breasts, fondling herself, teasing those stiff nipples, offering a show for her new lover as he gripped his staff and pumped.

  Madeleine was saying something, which Hugo could not hear, but then she was closing her eyes, and her strong powerful lover was erupting, thick strings of white come shooting from his cock to splash over the blonde’s pretty neck and her upper chest.

  Another man’s come all over her.

  She grinned, taking hold of his erect cock herself for the last few moments, rubbing it against her chest, her neck, all over that beautiful smooth skin of hers as though she was using it to apply perfume.

  Hugo could so easily have lost control in that moment, following Connor’s example in letting go as Madeleine sat there and played with her breasts. But he didn’t.

  He was going to wait for her to come home.

  *

  She lay there with hew new lover for what seemed like an age. For Hugo, it was almost as bad on his nerves as those moments leading up to penetration.

  They hadn’t ever put together any kind of an exit strategy for one of her encounters, he now realized. He’d never even really thought about it. They’d never talked about how long she should stay once the deed was done, whether she might want to stay for a second round or more. Whether she might want to stay overnight. Hugo hadn’t wanted to be too prescriptive in how an evening would go, it was for her to decide. There was no point in rushing her. She wouldn’t enjoy it if she knew there was a schedule to stick to.

  Nevertheless, now it was actually happening, he regretted the uncertainty of when she might return to him.

  Hugo went to get a glass of water from the kitchen to cool himself down, and perhaps calm himself down.

  He knew she had to be polite, had to spend a fair amount of time with her lover after the fact. But after the intense emotions of the evening, his mind could wander into some intensely dark places. Sipping the water as he slowly wandered back to the windows, he knew it was unreasonable to expect that as soon as her new lover had come, she should be slinking back into her clothes, before scampering back across the street to be with her husband.

  But the jealousy he now felt was for the affectionate way she lay with him there on the bed, one leg draped over his, gently caressing that impossibly hard torso of his. She looked at him with the kind of bedroom eyes she hadn’t used on her husband for years.

  What were they saying to each other while gazing into each other’s eyes like that? Smiling, laughing, sharing precious time.

  Connor reached over to the bedside table, retrieving something that Hugo couldn’t quite identify with his hands shaking slightly as he held the binoculars. He handed something to Madeleine. Ducked his head.

  He was smoking a cigarette in bed—and, to Hugo’s surprise, so was Madeleine.

  It was the second time he’d seen her doing it in Connor’s company—what was her intention? She’d always given Hugo the impression she’d never smoked a cigarette in her life.

  For some reason, it seemed interesting to Hugo that either Connor had persuaded her to do something so out of character, or she was doing it to fit in with him. It emphasized the difference compared to her married life.

  But the thought that now haunted him was that this cozy post-coitus cigarette would keep her over there with Connor until they were ready to go again. Maybe that would leave her so tired she’d just collapse asleep with the guy. And then they’d wake up in the morning like a real couple, and Madeleine would get the idea that this womanizing lothario could love her, could settle down with her, a completely upgraded model of soul mate.

  Hugo stepped away from the window, and padded through to the bedroom and the en suite bathroom, where he knew a hot shower might not entirely soothe his nerves, but might provide some distraction.

  He left them to it, stepped under the gloriously warm stream of water, scrubbed off the sweat of an evening’s anticipation and serious arousal. Well, at least if Madeleine did make the return journey that night, she would find a fresh, clean husband waiting for her.

  Afterwards, stepping out of the shower, he was calm enough to even
start making the assumption that his pretty wife would be spending the night in the bed of another man. His phone was blinking to announce that there was an unread text message waiting for him, and he presumed it would state her decision not to be home until the morning.

  It didn’t.

  > Hey sweetie, you still with me? Can’t wait to come home and see you.

  He smiled broadly, almost as broadly as Madeleine had been all night in the arms of her new lover. Drying off, he mentally composed his reply before tapping it out on the little smartphone.

  > Still with you, honey. That was incredible! What a turn on. Can’t wait to see you, either. You planning on staying the night, or should I wait up?

  He added that last little question as both emphasizing the fact that it was her choice how she wanted to conclude her date with Connor, but also in the hope of assuaging that little question mark that lingered in Hugo’s thoughts.

  > Oh I can’t wait until the morning, not after that! I’ll be home very soon. Hope you didn’t put any clothes on.

  Nineteen

  She was standing out in the hallway, like a vampire asking permission to come in. Only in this case, it was as though she was asking his consent to return to their marriage.

  For a moment he just breathed and indulged in the sight of her standing there, lipstick smeared, hair mussed, clothes creased.

  Nipples hard as pebbles.

  She looked anxious, smiling in that uncertain manner that posed a question, rather than really conveying happiness. Saying to him in that one expression: do you still love me? Do you forgive me? Did you like what happened? Do you still want me?

  “Hey,” he said, trying to act calm, assured, strong.

  “Hey,” she replied, trying to mimic his understated tone.

  “So that happened.”

  “I guess so.”

  “Do you still love me?”

  “More than ever.”

  Then he was hardly thinking about what he was doing, his instincts seeming to take over, driving him to drag her inside the apartment, almost slam the front door shut, frantic in his pace and desperate in his desire to reclaim her as his own.