R's Third Adventure Pt. 01

I answered the phone at my office late one Thursday afternoon, fully expecting to hear someone wanting to discuss business. Instead, I heard a giggle and a sexy, feminine voice ask, "What are you doing?"

Instantly, I brightened. It was the very familiar voice of my loving wife of 10 years. I worked in our suburban hometown, and she worked in the personnel office of a large hospital in the neighboring city. Hearing her voice brought a refreshing change of pace to my hectic work day. It also reminded me how much I loved this amazing woman, who could be so business-like in her world of corporate administration and a sexual animal in the bedroom.

After a minute or two of idle chatter, she revealed the purpose of her call.

"Are you working late tonight?" she asked.

"No, what's up?" I replied, knowing already what she probably had in mind.

"T.A. wants me to have a drink with him," she ventured, half as a statement and half as a question.

Dual emotions ran through me, ending with a stirring in my groin and a spot of nervousness in the pit of my stomach. "What did you tell him?" I answered.

Rachel was referring to a young executive in her company. She called him by his initials, T.A., to differentiate between him and another guy with the same first name.

"I told him I'd see if the coast was clear," she answered. "Would you mind?"

"No, but you'll have to promise to make love to me when you get home."

"I always do, don't I? Are you sure you don't mind??? Just say so, and I'll tell him I can't make it tonight," she said.

I had been agreeing to allowing Rachel to have occasional "mini-dates" with a couple of executives at the hospital. On each of her other dates, she stayed out much later than would be expected for a "drink," but when she finally eased my anxiety and returned home, she came in hot and bothered, ready to fuck.

After she checked on the kids and removed her contact lenses, I'd embrace her and kiss her deeply, drinking in her perfume and the lingering barroom cigarette smoke in her hair. I'd taste her warm mouth and tongue and the whiskey on her breath.

Highly intoxicating stimuli, believe me.

Still kissing her, I would begin unbuttoning her clothes, sometimes finding a few buttons of her blouse already undone. I'd let her skirt and blouse fall to the floor, then unhook her bra, if someone else hadn't beaten me to it, and lift the cups away from her high, firm breasts. Cupping them and kneading them gently, I always trembled with desire, my erection poking through my boxer shorts.

Stripped to her string bikini panties, she would let me lead her to the bed, where we would fall into each others arms for more deep-tongue kissing.

With my anticipation building, I'd seek the moment of truth. Hooking my thumbs in the waist band of her panties, I'd guide them down her smooth legs as she lifted her hips, sliding the tiny piece of fabric down until at least one foot was free.

Instantly, her legs would open, and I would kiss my way down to her neatly trimmed bush, pausing for a moment to heighten the anticipation, then running my tongue along her slit, marveling at the wetness oozing from between her hot cunt lips.

Then I would take the plunge, thrusting my tongue and as far as I could go into her steaming pussy and making lapping sounds as her juices flooded out.

Each time that she returned from the earlier dates, I'd find her extremely wet with her own juices but not with her date's cum.

The only taste in her pussy was that of the sweet nectar of my woman at full arousal.

Part of me was relieved that she had held back from full intimacy with her would-be lovers, but part of me felt a twinge of disappointment because I half-way expected to find her pussy juices mixed with another guy's cream.

But, having found that she had again withheld her most intimate favors from her suitors, what was I to do? I'd shift to high gear, reaching my tongue deep into her vagina, running it up between her soaked cunt's silky lips to lift and encircle her clitoris, before driving back down and repeating the cycle of thrusting, lifting and revolving around her swollen button.

Sometimes she would surrender to the moment and allow me to continue working my tongue's magic until she cried out in orgasmic delight, but often she'd call for my cock.

"Please come in me now; I'm very close," she'd say.

At that, I would raise my body over her, and she would open her legs wide to receive me. My cock would plunge into her well-lubricated cunt, and I would adjust my position for maximum effect.

Usually, I needed only a few good strokes to push her over the edge.

"I'mmmm cccc u mmmm i nnnn gggg," she would moan as the waves washed over her, while I tried to hold my own flood in check to prolong the pleasure of fucking this incredibly sexy 30-something.

But once her own desire was quenched somewhat, I'd turn to my own pleasure, questioning her about the highlights of her date: where they had met, how much did they drink before the heavy kissing began, where did they go to make out, what did he do with her breasts, did he finger her pussy and did she stroke his cock?

Sometimes we would fuck for what seemed like hours, but often she would cause me to lose control and shoot my load by relating some especially intimate detail or explaining some technique that her would-be lover employed.

Once, when I moved my hands under her bra's cups and lifted her breasts to my wandering mouth, she exclaimed, "Ooooh, be careful. They're really tender..."

Later, as I pounded her pussy with all that I had in me, she explained that T.A. had kneaded her firm breasts rather forcefully, tweaked, twirled and pulled her nipples with his fingers and sucked on every inch of her ripe globes while she moaned in ecstasy.

"I think he may have left bruises," she whispered.

"If he did, will you be mad?"

"No, no, no. It hurts sooo good," she replied.

"Will you tell him he bruised you?"

"Yeah, and if I get the chance, I'll give him a quick peek. I'll tell him I'm having to keep them hidden from you," she said.

I shot my cum into her throbbing cunt with that little exchange.

Part of the arrangement that gave her the freedom to flirt with other men was that she wouldn't tell them I knew what was going on and that she was sharing the intimate details with her horny husband. This was our sexual secret that removed the anxiety of "getting caught" on her part, but still made the guy act with discretion.

My reward was validating my belief that my wife was a beautiful, sexy and desirable woman who still enjoyed sexual adventures. It goes without saying, too, that I enjoyed the benefits of the unbridled passion the trysts unlocked in her.

On that particular Thursday, I don't know that any of those thoughts passed through my head, but I was on pins and needles for the next hour and a half as I tried to do my work without exposing my nervousness. In a regular cycle, the question, "Will she?" kept surfacing in my mind, the question being whether or not T.A. would get the full benefits of a clandestine meeting with Rachel.

Would they go to a motel to consummate their affair, and would I have my fantasy come true by sliding my tongue into her cum-filled pussy? Or would T.A. go back to his wife all hot and bothered and unsatisfied?

As the clock rolled around slowly to quitting time, I stopped thinking about my sexy woman for a moment or two to absorb the visual essence of K, a 20-something female coworker, actually a subordinate, 15 years my junior.

When I hired K, she had the job the minute she walked through the door. Her smile lit up the room, and her dress was cut low enough to give me a hint of her gorgeous, full breasts. I was immediately enthralled.

I stared at her for a few seconds every now and then, wondering how her petite, full-figured body would respond to me if I were lucky enough to fuck her. But in all the time she worked with me, I never made a serious advance because, for one, I did not want to be accused of sexual harassment and, two, I don't think my ego would have stood a rejection from her.

As it turned out, I learned after she left for another job that she was crazy about me, and we had a torrid, 18-month affair, but that's a story for another day.

Finally, the time came for me to make the short drive home, where I was resigned to having to wait for at least several anxious hours for her return. Maybe the kids would present me with a challenging homework question to keep my mind off what my sexpot wife was doing 20 miles away.

But I was surprised when I turned into our driveway and saw Rachel's car parked outside our home. I thought by now she would have been meeting T.A. at the little no-tell bar they usually visited.

Immediately, I thought of two possibilities: T.A. had to cancel for some reason and she came on home. Or, maybe they had met for a drink, but eventually went their separate ways after deciding it wasn't dark enough to hold a car-seat kissing session.

I walked into the house, said hello to the kids, then went into our bedroom to find her fussing with her hair at the lavatory and mirror in the bedroom's adjoining bath. She was wearing her favorite bathrobe and obviously had just stepped out of the shower.

I tiptoed back to the bedroom door and quietly closed it. Moving back into the lavatory nook, I stepped between the counter and Rachel, slipping my hands into her robe and pulling it open. My hands moved over her skin, still warm from the shower, while my eyes feasted on her pert breasts with their slightly swollen nipples.

I glanced down, and from my angle of observation, could see that she had trimmed her pussy hair to a small, neat triangular shadow. Nothing unusual there; keeping her dark bush neatly trimmed had been a part of her routine since the day, not long after we became a couple, that I showed her pictures of centerfold girls and how sexy their trimmed or shaved pussies looked.

I slipped by hands behind her back and cupped her firm, ripe ass in my hands, lifting her slightly and pulling her forward to meet my kiss.

Our lips met, tentatively, then opened wide in a passionate kiss that had our tongues swirling around each other's and probing deeply.

"Do you realize how sexy you feel in my arms right now?" I whispered as my hands tenderly squeezed the cheeks of her ass.

"You're pretty sexy yourself," she answered, opening her mouth to favor me with another warm, wet kiss.

"I didn't expect to find you here. I thought you'd be flirting with T.A. by now," I told her.

"He wants me to meet him at 8 o'clock, so I decided to come home, fix dinner for you and the kids, take a bath and do my hair," she explained.

"So, it's a real date this time, huh?"

She smiled. "I guess you could say that."

"Is he going to finally get lucky tonight?" I asked.

"You never can tell," she laughed.

I gently traced a path with my index fingers around her hips to the inside of her thighs, then gently moved them up the outer lips of her cunt.

Immediately, I sensed something different: she had used a depilatory to completely remove the fine hairs from her labia, leaving only the feathery inverted triangle above her mound.

This was unusual.

I dropped to my knees as she instinctively arched her back and moved her legs apart to accommodate me as my mouth found its way to her enticing cunt.

My tongue, running up her slit, made the discovery first, then a gently probing finger confirmed it.

"You're as wet as a school girl in the back seat of a Chevy," I blurted.

"I guess the thought of a married woman getting ready for a date by trimming her pussy hair got me hot," she confessed.

I didn't say anything, but I fastened my mouth over her soaking pussy and plunged my tongue deep inside, moving it up and down and lifting her clit in one fluid motion. She was really wet.

I moved her backwards toward the bed as I continue tonguing her. She moaned as we moved, then straddled the corner of the mattress and lay back, spreading her legs and arching her back to give my mouth complete freedom to ply her hot cunt with my tongue.

She gradually lost control. Her hips bucked up and down as I worked her pink slit with my tongue. Her juices ran down my chin. The taste was pure, sweet hot pussy.

Pausing to catch my breath, I popped the question.

"Why did you go to so much trouble with your pubic hair? Do you intend to have sex with him this time?" I gently inquired.

"Would it be okay?" she asked, almost begging. "He wants to meet me at the bar in the Holiday Inn. If he's already got a room rented, I might not be able to turn him down this time."

Instead of replying, I went back to tonguing her clit, which by this time had swollen to full arousal, signaling her imminent release.

She then begged for my cock, but I was already ahead of her. I unzipped and unbuttoned my pants, freeing my aching cock from my boxers.

Placing the head of it at where my tongue had been lapping her juices, I lowered myself forcefully, plunging deeply into the object of my desire.

She let out a deep moan.

Her position on the bed, with her cunt precisely on the corner of the mattress and her legs on the two sides of the bed, gave me the best possible angle to slam my cock into her hungry cunt and rub its length firmly against her clit.

Her passion, and mine, mounted.

"Oh baby, fuck me... I'm cccuuummmiiinnnggg," she mouthed as her orgasm sent pleasure waves spreading from her pussy all over her body.

Afraid that I was not too far behind, I quickened my pace as she absorbed the feeling of climax that brought a flush to her face and widened her eyes.

I pumped her hard, grunting as my moment neared.

"Please pull out when you cum," she whispered, recovering enough to think of practical matters.

So, I thought, she doesn't want her lover to find my cum in her pussy if he decides to go down on her.

"Do you want to fuck him?" I demanded, hoping the answer would be enough to push me over.

She didn't reply, seemingly concentrating on the pounding I was giving her.

"Do you?" I insisted.

"Yes! God yes! I want him. I've gone too far. I've got to have him," she moaned before she stopped and blurted, "Oh God, I can't believe it... I'm cumming again." Her voice trailed off to a low, guttural moan.

Wham. It hit me. I raised myself to a push-up position, hands on the bed and arms extended. The movement jerked my cock out of her thrusting cunt as spasm after spasm rocked her being.

I shot a string of cum across her tummy, from just below one breast to her belly button, then I collapsed on her again and finished pumping cum into the valley of her stomach.

Neither of us moved for quite awhile, but finally I rolled off to the side.

"Wow, that was something," she panted, raising her head and sitting half-way up on her arms. Before rising, she ran a finger through the puddle on her smooth skin, raised it to her mouth and sucked it in with a wink in my direction.

"I may want to make taste comparisons," she laughed, then rolled off the bed to clean up. In a minute, she threw me a damp wash cloth and went back to fixing her hair and doing her makeup.

I zipped up and scooted back on the bed to listen and watch as she got ready for her date.

When she got her hair and makeup done, she walked over beside the bed and asked me to lick her cunt to see if I could taste any of my cum. I gladly obliged.

"No," I said. "Just pure Rachel pussy." She smiled, and began dressing as I watched.

She started with a black push-up bra that accented her ample breasts. Next, she passed over panties to select a black lace teddy -- one of my favorites -- and pulled it over her head and snapped the two little buttons at the crotch.

Then she got a narrow garter belt and put it around her waist so that it rode over the bottom of the teddy.

She's arranging it so that she can unsnap the teddy, pull it off and fuck the night away while still wearing her hose, I thought to myself. He'll love moving between those silky, smooth legs.

Sheer black stockings and a half-slip finished her undergarments.

"How do I look?" she asked as she turned around in front of me and a mirror against the open closet door. The back of the teddy dipped to the top of her bra strap in back, and the "panty" section only covered a small span of her ass, I noticed, as she lifted the slip.

"Fantastic," I mumbled, wondering what in the hell had gotten into me that I would let this sexy little tart walk out of my house and into the arms of another man.

She finished dressing by slipping into a tiny black cocktail dress and a pair of spiky high heels. Her cover story to "me" and the kids was that she was going to a business banquet on a last-minute invitation.

Before she left to hug the kids and go to her car, she came to side of the bed, sat down and asked, "Are you OK with this?"

What could I say?

"Yeah. Have fun. I'll be waiting."

"You're sure you don't mind?"

Too late to back out now, I thought, and blew her a kiss that she returned with a wave of her hand. "I'll be back before midnight."

Hearing those heels clicking on the sidewalk as she walked out the front door to her car started me on five hours of near desperate anxiety.

After tucking the kids into bed, I undressed and lay fitfully on the bed in our darkened bedroom, thinking back on the path R and I had taken to arrive at this juncture in our active sexual partnership.

We both had played some sexual games a year or two before this juncture, which are chronicled in "R's First" and "Second Adventures" on this site. Then we eased up on extra-marital sex for a while as we concentrated on our careers.

At some point, after R got promotions in her firm that caused the executive predators to take notice of her, she began to receive more than just passing attention: embraces by the more "friendly" guys, offers to do lunch, afternoon chit-chat phone calls and so forth.

She usually reported these amorous advances to me in our nightly pillow talk sessions or during foreplay. The activity progressed over a period of months to the point that I asked nearly every night, "What did you do that was sexy today?" or "Did you get any flirts today?"

An affirmative reply sent my cock to full alert, and she warmed up herself as she related the day's story.

Once she and a male co-worker whose name I forget went to a convention in San Antonio that lasted about four days. It was her first overnight travel opportunity with the company, and she was excited. I believe the guy actually thought he was going to sleep with her for the duration, because he tried hard to woo her. But she swore that nothing happened.

I should have been jealous, but her return on a Friday night with lots of stories about the things the two of them did together and his attempts to win her over excited me so much that Rachel and I went into a Friday to Sunday fucking marathon that left us both sore Monday morning. I came eight times and would have done it more if the kids weren't in the way.

Over time, the characters changed sometimes, but, with my encouragement, her adventures became bolder, until she was having one or two "mini-dates" per month, which appealed to her ego and mine, too. After all, if these big shots wanted my wife, I evidently had something going for me to win her in the first place.

At some point, I let it be known that she was free to give in and let one of them bed her. I talked a lot about wanting to taste her cum-soaked pussy some night.

She was steadfast in remaining just out of reach, however, saying several times, "I might be the one who gets away."

The most torrid of her nights out came by way of a late-night business obligation in which the administrators, including her, had to deal with employees coming on duty at 11 p.m. The business led to a late, late celebration at an older woman's home, where the liquor flowed and she danced, necked and petted with not one, but three of her suitors. She didn't go into a lot of detail, but she told me as we fucked for two straight hours on her 2 a.m. return that any one of them could have had her that night.