“I have plans with Conrad,” I said.
Nate's face was mixture of disappointment and...yes, there it was, jealousy. I don't mind admitting I was really getting off on that. It was so raw, so sexual. So possessive. I let it wander around in him and then I stopped him before he said anything stupid.
“But..” I said, and I ran my hand back up his shirt. I moved a nipple around, and smiled again.
I definitely had him on the hook now. What would I say next? What was the catch? Would I meet him later?
“I have an idea,” I began, and then I let my face cloud over. “No, you wouldn't like it.”
He was all-too eager to like it, whatever it was. He pushed me against the wall and grinned. “I think I would. Does it involve seeing you?”
He couldn't have set it up better.
“Well,” I said. “I have a confession to make.”
He almost growled.
“I...I also have plans with you.”
“Oh yeah?” He pressed his mouth against mine and his hand went between my legs. I was already so wet that I felt sure my jeans might betray that fact. “What are they?” he whispered.
“You, and a hotel,” I said. He purred like a fucking cat.
“But,” I said, and he stood back from me, amused. He had a very self-assured look on his face now, and I could see that what Conrad had said was true: he would only hear that I wanted to fuck him. He wouldn’t give a shit about anything else. “I'll fuck you, and give you the most amazing head you've ever had...” I trailed my fingers down his shirt and put my hand on his balls, cupping them through his jeans. “But...Conrad will be there, watching.”
It took a while for that last bit to get through to his mind, I could see. But when it did, it flashed over his face, sort of like the light of a firefly. His features went a little confused, and then I could see he gave it very, very brief consideration, did the male math Conrad said he would, and his face went back to self-assured and almost cocky. “Weird,” he said. “But whatever.”
There was a tiny temptation to slap him.
But I was too caught up in my own fantasy to care.
I guess that's how these things work out.
W AITING
CONRAD
Waiting in the hotel was the most torturous experience of my life.
It was a motel, and admittedly not extremely fancy but there really wasn't anything else nearby, and Laura had found it extremely amusing when I told her about it.
“I mean, we aren't going to sleep there, so who cares?” she had said.
She texted me at 9:50.
It's on.
I stared at the screen.
I had a practical problem, and that was that I had no idea what to do with myself. Sit down? Stand up? I sort of wished I was still friends with Troy, so I could ask for advice.
I paced the room. I took a shower and masturbated, because I knew I wouldn't last long without doing that. I paced again.
My feelings were in an uproar. I was excited: I knew that. The idea that in less than half an hour I would have in front of me, where I could see it, hear it, and smell it, the very thing I had coveted so secretly for so long, of course was inside of me like electricity. My cock had been rock hard since I had watched Laura getting dressed, smelled her neck where she had applied perfume, though about how someone else would be doing the same thing right in front of me…
Still, the excitement was mixing with so many other feelings. Jealousy, of course, but I had long since figured out that jealousy gave me a high, that I liked it the way a person likes the burn of alcohol: it will turn into something else. It was like a bell for Pavlov's dog, and set me salivating.
But I had to admit that there were other, darker things underneath the surface. Laura's nonchalance, for example. The possibility that she agreed to this not because she wanted me to be happy, as she was pretending, but because she just wanted an excuse to fuck some young guy and get away with it. The idea that maybe she was devious and not devout, that she had tricked me into believing this was my own idea. That I had rented the hotel room in which the undoing of our marriage would begin.
It was too late. It was too late, of course, to back out – and Laura had given me the option, hadn't she? So many times, right until the last moment.
In the end, I knew that no matter what he risks were, I was going through with it if Laura was.
Because wasn't the risk precisely what made it so incredible?
Wasn't that it, in the end, the reason I wanted so badly to see my wife's eyes looking at me, with another man's cock in her mouth, the way Eliza had looked at Troy? Because I wanted that kind of strange loyalty, the kind that transcended the physical? The kind of loyalty you simply had to have faith in, and which wasn't the rote, empty motions of a stale marriage. The kind of love that was above the quick, dismissive “I love you,” at the end of every conversation?
I sat down in a chair and edged it so that I was in a shadowy corner of the room. I hoped that Nate would take this as my intention to stay out of whatever they were doing, and be an observer.
A text:
Leaving now. You ready? Still want this?
I texted back, my fingers so nervous I could barely type:
Yes.
And then, a few moments with my stomach cold, wondering what the hell I was doing. Then:
I love you, Conrad.
It was only by pushing the boundaries of our love that we could really test it. That's what I could suddenly see.
I typed:
I love you too.
G ETTING THERE
LAURA
Nate had gone through a series of mood changes on the way to the motel, and so I had put my hand on his thigh, and started to use my pinky finger to tease his cock a little through his jeans.
It would be too much if now he wanted to bail.
We stopped in front of the motel. It wasn't very classy, but I hadn't cared. It just made logical sense – close by, inexpensive. Sheets weren't what this was about, anyway.
But now I suddenly worries about Nate.
His face revealed no comment on the motel.
Of course. He was twenty-three. He was about to get laid.
“So...” he turned off the engine. He turned to me. “This isn't going to be like...I don't know….I'm not into any kind of group sex thing.” He suddenly seemed almost bashful.
This cracked me up and I laughed out loud.
“No,” I said. I shook my head for emphasis. “Nothing like that.”
“So what...what is he going to do?”
I shrugged. “I have no idea. It's our first time.”
Nate's mouth opened in shock.
He shook his head. “He's not going to...I don't know. Freak out or something?”
I shook my head. Though who really knew?
To save any of this from derailing, I leaned over and burrowed my hand between his legs. His cock was rock-hard.
Never mind. No need to worry about that…
I kissed him. He was just as delicious as before, but my mind was not on the illicit thing happening between me and Nate as much as the fact that Conrad was inside, waiting to see it all.
And call me crazy, because this is not something I would have ever guessed about myself, but I was ready to put on a real show.
T HE REAL HOBBY
CONRAD
Laura texted me to open the door. It was good thinking on her part, sparing us an awkward moment when I would have had to open it for them, and Nate would be right there.
I sat back down in the chair I had arranged, in a darker corner of the room. I was hard as a rock already, and my stomach twisted in the most delicious anticipation I had ever felt. Laura entered first, and she smiled at me. Nate came in behind her, and his cocky-attitude was slightly dampened for a moment. He demurred to Laura, who took a look around the room and instructed him to sit on the bed closest to me. He gave a furtive look at the corner where I was sitting, and a flicker of reco
gnition crossed his face.
But he played it cool. He grinned a little, and it wasn't a jerk-smile. He gave a jerk of his head. “Hey what's up man?”
Not meant to be answered. I gave him a little nod. I could see he got it: I was the guy from the restaurant. He sort of shook his head in bewilderment, but Laura distracted him. “Right there,” she told him.
Laura had a certain aura to her that had gone missing a long time ago. The thing that I had loved about her when our marriage began: an unfettered sexual confidence. It didn't stem from her attractiveness. She was, as I've mentioned before, a plainly pretty woman. She had a nice body. But no single feature of hers was jaw-dropping. Like her smile, which turned her face from ordinary to extraordinary, Laura's “hotness” came from her attitude.
I hadn't seen her like this for a long time, but she had it back now, whatever that elusive quality was.
The only question that nagged in my mind was of course: who was it for?
But I pushed it away.
Laura took a survey of the room with her sharp, analytical eye, and I shivered with excitement. She was sizing things up, almost professionally. I knew, somehow, that she had done her consultant's job and sifted through my porn, and cataloged my reactions to her suggestions alongside the things I had said to her over the past ten years. From this information she had probably drawn herself a pretty accurate map of what I wanted to see.
Laura, after all, was an excellent consultant.
I knew I was about to see her best work.
But first, she was going to give Nate a show. “Not so fast,” she said, pushing him onto the bed when he made a move toward her.
He sat down, somewhat reluctantly, with his hands on his knees. He watched as Laura unbuttoned her jeans and slid them down her hips, shimmying out of them very skillfully, almost in a strip-tease. She kicked them aside.
“Take off your shirt,” she told him.
Nate obeyed, eagerly. Once his shirt was discarded I could see the lean but muscular body that had tempted my wife. A different kind of jealousy rippled through me.
Then, with the typical Laura goofiness she can have, she raised a hand and said loudly. “Oh! I almost forgot!” and turned to her huge purse on the opposite bed. She bent over, showing Nate her cute little butt in her black underwear, and he started to reach out to touch her when she twirled around. She had an object in her hand.
A clear, plastic object. A cold fear, and a slick disappointment moved around in me. She wasn't going to get into some kind of dirty toy game, was she? That wasn't really what I wanted to see.
But she pulled the clear plastic items apart, and they quickly turned into what they were: two clear plastic...shoes.
Hooker-ish, stripper shoes.
Where had she even gotten those?
“Where did you get those?” Nate laughed, echoing my thoughts.
Laura shrugged. It didn't matter. She moved closer to him and put her hands on his shoulders. “My husband liked that story,” she said. Nate's hands were on her hips and moving up, underneath her shirt. He must have looked like he wasn't registering it, though I was. I already knew which story. My cock throbbed.
“The one the stripper told us...about why she likes her stilettos so much?” Laura prompted.
Nate's hands stopped, and I imagined what must be going through his mind.
Laura stepped back and dropped the shoes to the floor. When she stepped into the first one, it raised her a good six inches. It also flexed and toned the muscles of her whole leg, making it look longer...and incredible. She kicked on the second one with her toe.
Then she pulled her tight black shirt up and off of her torso.
There she was. My wife.
She looked spectacular. It was suddenly as though she had been transformed into a different person, in a way. She was fucking hot. Her lacy black underwear was just bordering on trashy, particularly with her plastic shoes. Her limbs looked long and sexy; her stomach was just barely rounded at the edge of her black lace panties, her breasts seemed fuller and plumped out of the cups of her bra. But the most sexy thing about her was the change in her demeanor, the way she was owning this moment.
Nate appeared, for a moment, to have no idea what to do. Laura put her hand in her hair and fluffed it.
She backed up and sat on the bed.
She spread her legs wide and drew her finger from just below her bra strap down the center line of her abdomen, all the way to her underwear. She was looking right at Nate, and she ran her tongue along her upper lip.
Fuck. It was too much. She was putting on a show, and she was great at it.
She held one hand up and beckoned Nate toward her. “We'll start with this,” she said.
He moved toward her, and I saw the brilliance of her planning: she had placed herself right where I would be able to see her face. She was going to get his cock out and suck it, and treat me to the look I had fantasized about for so long.
With her legs still spread wide, a bit akimbo in the tall heels – and I shivered, imagining her plan for that later – she unbuttoned Nate's jeans. She pulled his boxers down.
I watched her face, and it was hard to know if she was being theatrical or not, but whatever she saw made her eyes light up. “Wow,” she commented. “Packing quite a..package, hmmm?”
from where I was, I could see that Nate's cock was indeed quite a package: it was pointed straight out, thick, uncircumcised, and quite - almost incredibly – long.
I watched as Laura enclosed the thick meat of it in her hand, and I heard Nate gasp. She fluttered her eyes up at him, and moved her hand up and down the length of his shaft, smiling deviously. She moved her mouth closer and closer to his cock, and I could hear the impatience in his breathing as she teased him with the promise of her lips around him. She pulled on his foreskin, exposing his swollen head.
She made a circle around the ridge of his glans first, and I could almost feel her doing the same for me. Laura's tongue, Laura's tongue, pretty and pink, making circles on the head of another man's cock.
She swept her tongue upward through the center of his head, right over the hole, and she smiled. “Mmmm,” she said, and gave him a look. His cock was probably gushing precum, though I couldn't see from here.
She turned her head sideways, and held his cock upright so that she could place her tongue flat on the left side of his dick and lick the length of it. She lowered her eyes as she began, close to the base, and then as she ran her tongue along the long, meaty length of it, her eyes lifted. Smiling, they met mine.
I actually shuddered with the energy this sent through me.
She reached the top of his cock and moved over to the other side to give it the same long, lingering treatment. Then she slid down to the floor, and turned her head to get beneath his cock, swirling her tongue all around his balls, lapping at them like a cat cleaning his paws. Nate turned his face up to the ceiling and sucked his breath in.
Then, on her knees, she opened her mouth and guided his long, thick cock to her mouth. She kissed the head of it, and then her mouth spread open as he pushed inside of her.
And I watched my wife's mouth stretch open and fill with Nate's big slab of meat.
It was so thick her eyes began to water, but she took it all, almost all the way to the base.
And then, as she began to bob her head back and forth to pleasure him, she looked to me. Her eyes locked with mine, and there it was: the fantasy I had for so long. Laura's pretty brown eyes, burning into mine, sharing some secret communication known only to us – one that came only from the years of intimacy we shared – while her mouth was filled completely with another man's cock.
My own cock was dripping cum, staining my pants, which I had left on. The pain of it was almost crushing.
Laura did this for a bit, each time managing to fit more of Nate's long cock into her throat, until at last she had taken it all, all the way to the base. Her chin pressed against his balls and her lips met the flesh over his
his pubic bone. But her eyes were still on me, watching my own pleasure, enjoying what she doing to me.
I had forgotten completely about the promise of the shoes, but not Laura: she pulled Nate's cock from her mouth and licked at his glans as he made a disappointed noise. She smiled. “Don't come yet,” she said. “I'm not finished with you.”
Then she climbed, very nimbly, onto the bed.
She got on all fours, and now she was looking like a porn star. Her limbs were long and she was in fantastic shape – she posed sexily, with her back arched, as though she were a professional. She gave her hair another toss. “Let's give it a try,” she said, and she looked at me. She gave me a conspiratorial grin.
Then she looked up, at Nate, whose chest was heaving.
She lowered herself to her stomach. She did it slowly, first one elbow, then the other. She watched Nate, who was breathing unevenly, and seemed to get a kick out of his pain.
“You'll have to grab my head, probably,” she advised him.
She kicked her heels up, and reached behind her to grab her heels. She lifted her head, and Nate reached out to palm my wife's head in his strong, wiry hand. And then he pulled her to his pelvis, impaling her with his cock.
I watched all the many inches of him disappear into Laura's mouth, as she lay there prone and lewdly holding her heels, just like all the dirty actresses of porn. The sound of Nate's cock in her mouth added a filthy dimension to her act. But Laura kept her eyes open, and trained on me.
Her eyes seared through me, and I was mesmerized. All the blood in my body was going to my cock, and I have no idea why I dropped my eyes from her burning stare, just a little. When I did, I saw the white of her graceful neck, and the hard bulge that was swelling it open. The bulge of Nate's cock, going up and down her throat.
Fuck.
She dropped her heels suddenly, and pushed herself up to sitting. Nate emitted an exasperated sigh: he was clearly close to coming. But Laura was on top of it.. She took his cock in her hand, and got back on her knees. She stroked him as she rubbed his glans over her lips, teasing us all with the wet promise of her mouth.
The Hobby Job: A Romantic Wife-Watching Novel Page 16