1 comments/ 23409 views/ 22 favorites Lost to D-Town By: Bluewolfhead After a long day of flights and cabs, we settled into the hotel to get ready for the wedding. It was the best hotel in Detroit. But in a recurring theme to our marriage, we were soon fighting again. Actually, my wife was pissed at me again because of something I said. After storming out of our hotel room, she gave me the cold shoulder while we rode the crowded elevator down to the first floor. Once outside, we silently stood on the sidewalk while the doorman flagged down a cab. Once inside the cab, she moved to the far side. With her back turned towards me, we didn't speak to each other for the entire ride to the wedding. Not a single word. She just stared out the window at the dark streets of Detroit. Every once in awhile, I could see the Middle Eastern cabbie look into his rear view mirror at us and wisely stayed quiet. By the end of the ride, I was weakening so I considered saying I was sorry, but I couldn't force myself say the words. I didn't want to admit I was wrong when I was right. When the cab pulled up in front of the old brick Masonic Lodge, my wife didn't wait for the cab to stop before she opened the door. The door slammed behind her as I paid the driver. Without looking back, she rushed up the stairs towards the front door. Quietly, the cab driver glanced at my wife, then at me and then back at my wife. His laughing eyes said it all. I could tell what he was thinking because men have a certain disdain for other men who cannot control their women. When I looked up, I saw her jade green dress disappearing inside. Not waiting for my change, I followed her into the reception, but she had already vanished into the crowd. At first, I thought it would be easy to find a tall blonde woman in a sea of dark haired guests. I was wrong. I looked and looked. When I couldn't find her, I regretted not apologizing earlier when I had a chance. Now, I wanted to take back what I said to her earlier but, first, I wanted a chance to explain that I couldn't help myself. Earlier, when she had stepped out of the bathroom in the hotel, she smiled, spun around once and posed for me in her new outfit. Excitement and joy were written all over her face. I should have said something nice. Instead of giving her a compliment, I stated, "You're not wearing that to my nephew's wedding, are you? That dress is too revealing. It's inappropriate and you're going to embarrass me." I was right. Her dress had thin shoulder straps and a plunging V-neckline in both the front and back. The upper bodice was tight and left little to the imagination while the pleated skirt flared out around her while she twirled. While she looked beautiful in the dress, there was a lot wrong with it. Her neckline plunged too far and displayed too much cleavage. Her perky breasts threatened to fall out of dress with one wrong move. Also, I could tell she wasn't wearing a bra because the back of her dress plunged down even further than in the front. Everyone at the reception would know she wasn't wearing a bra. To make it worse, her flirty skirt showed more thigh than it covered. In spite of everything wrong, she looked fantastic. Actually, in that dress, she was every man's fantasy: a tall, sexy blonde wearing almost nothing. Even though she looked great, I knew her outfit invited nothing but trouble. I didn't want trouble. I don't know why she couldn't see that I was right, but the look on her face said I was wrong. Dead wrong. I had seen that look on her face a million times. She was pissed. Now, with her lost in a crowd, I really wished I'd had apologized to her earlier or, better yet, kept my mouth shut. I didn't like the idea of my scantily clad wife being alone at the party so I searched and searched. The crowd was packed with people I didn't know. I saw dancers, drinkers, the bride, the groom, and my drunk, older brother but I couldn't find my wife. Finally, after scouring the reception hall numerous times, I felt relieved when I finally found her. She was seated at our assigned table but she didn't notice me as I walked up behind her. With an almost empty glass of wine, she was seated between a large, plump woman with lots of pearls and a stranger. My curiosity was stirred as I noticed my wife was talking to with the stranger. My relief turned to fear when I noticed the stranger had his hand on her thigh. My jaw clenched at the sight of him caressing her. My mind raced with questions. Why was his hand on my wife's thigh? Why was she letting him touch her? How do they know each other? How did they meet? Instead of answers, dread filled the void in my soul as I watched. All I knew was, he shouldn't be touching my wife and, more importantly, my wife shouldn't be letting him touch her. To let them know I had caught them, I wanted to say something but couldn't find the words so, instead, I coughed a loud, obnoxious cough. Everyone at the table looked up at me but them. Still locked in a conversation, they didn't turn around. I stood there waiting for them to acknowledge me but it didn't happen. I wanted the stranger to move so I could sit next to my wife but they ignored me. I tried to think of the perfect retort to being ignored but I couldn't utter the words. Instead, I just watched his hand gently knead her bare thigh. All I could think of was how dangerously close his hand was to her hemline. Everyone was staring at me and I felt embarrassed. I wanted to scream at the stranger, "Move, you're in my seat and get your hands off my wife." And at my wife, I wanted to scream, "See, you should have listened to me. This trouble started because of the indecent way you're dressed." Maybe it was decorum that stopped me from yelling at them or maybe it was just fear of being embarrassed but I couldn't think of what else to say. As the other people at the table continue to look up at me, I was tongued-tied. As my mind spiraled, I decided to sit down. Out of the nine spots at the round table, the only open chair was directly across from my wife on the far side of the table. Instead of standing there looking like a fool for any longer, I walked around the table and sat down between two old men. When I sat down, they turned their backs to me to talk to their guest. As I sat down, my wife didn't even look at me. As much as I tried to catch her attention, she kept talking to the stranger sitting next to her. With their heads leaning close to each other, she was engrossed in their conversation. For the first time, I looked at the stranger. He had short, dark hair with intense black eyes. Although the stranger was dressed in a nice suit and tie, he had a menacing presence like a bouncer at the front door of a seedy bar. His gold Rolex had diamonds and his arms were big from long hours at the gym. Trim with wide shoulders, he looked like he had won a few barroom brawls. As a medal for winning, he had an ugly scar above his right eye. He was younger than my wife but he probably didn't know it. I knew her true age but my wife had always taken good care of herself with yoga and looked half her age. I was the one who hadn't aged well. Oddly, he wasn't just a brute. He seemed to have the gift of gab and created his own gravity around him. Everyone at the table laughed at his jokes and was quiet when he spoke. He was charming to everyone but me. Even guests walking by the table would stop by and say hello to him. Always, the stranger introduced my wife to them. The guests must have thought she was his date because his hand remained on her thigh. Neither one of them was self-conscience about such a blatant show of intimacy. I tried to imagine an innocent reason for such familiarity, but I couldn't. Afterwards, the guests would walk away while whispering to each about the stranger. Usually, a smirk was followed with a nod. I noticed the stranger was giving my wife a lot of wine and she drank it all. To make it worse, I knew my wife always flirts when she is drunk, especially, when she is mad at me. She had done it before but never this blatantly. Tonight, she was in flirting overdrive. During dinner, I watched as they got to know each other. Oddly, there wasn't the usual social discomfort between them when two new people get to know each other for the first time. Actually, they were hitting it off in spades. Talking. Laughing. Whispering. When she said something meant only for the stranger, she put her lips to his ear. It was very intimate. One time, as she told him a secret, a smile appeared on his face. Then, for the first time, the stranger looked at me. For a split second, he acknowledged me with a glare. The corner of his lip curled up. Filled with contempt, his black eyes screamed that he was taking her from me. I tried to hold his stare, but couldn't. Instead, I glanced down at the untouched food on my plate. Kicking myself, I looked back at the stranger but he was already talking to my wife again. I had lost the battle. In the past, I had accused my wife of having an affair but she always denied it. But this time, she couldn't deny the attraction between them. They way she looked at him had an amorous quality. She couldn't deny that she was tempted. While they chattered, it made no difference that I was at the same table. As far as my wife was concerned, I was on the far side of the moon. Not hiding her attraction to him, my wife touched the stranger's arm, fluttered her eyelashes at him and smiled. I just watched my wife flirt with the stranger. Meanwhile, the stranger was ogling my wife's breasts. He was like a wolf waiting to cut a lamb away from the herd. I stewed in my anger as the stranger seduced my beautiful wife. She was born with big, beautiful, blue eyes and a dancer's body. Few people have ever been able to ignite such an intense passion in others as easily as her. Always elegant, her movements attracted men like a bees to a flower. To the rest of the people at the table, my wife appeared to be a wholesome, fun girl but I knew she could be mean and vengeful. She had a dark side. Tonight, she was pushing her behavior to new limits. After dessert, the stranger asked my wife to dance. She immediately agreed without consulting me or even looking my way. Like it was their first date, he reached out and took her hand as she stood up. Following behind him, my wife let herself be pulled away. I just sat as I watched my wife disappear into the mob on the dance floor. I forced myself to stay seated, but my curiosity got the better of me. Careful not to be seen, I followed them. Hiding in the shadows and crowds, I was able to keep them in sight. While they enjoyed three dances without a break, I watched from a dark corner of the room as the tension built between them. All of their dances involved them touching in some way or manner. The faster songs were peppered with prolonged bumps while the young man took advantage of the slow songs by touching my wife. Through the throngs of wriggling dancers, I caught glimpses of him pressing his thigh between her long legs. Other times, I saw his hands squeezing my wife's haunches. With her arms high in the air and moving to the music, my wife wasn't stopping him. She wanted his attention regardless of who knew. Luckily, no one else saw them but me. The couple was so engrossed with the music and each other; they never noticed me watching them. As the music got slower, they seemed to drift farther and farther towards the far, dark corner of the room. Soon, they headed to a door hidden by floor length curtains and gaudy flower arrangements. Inevitably, they snuck out the back door. My breathing stopped. After stepping through that door, I knew my wife was going to cheat on me. Soon, my princess would no longer be able to deny her betrayal. I was tired of her pleading innocence when I accused her of affairs. Knowing they would be watching the back door for possible witnesses, I decided to sneak around and surprise them. I rushed out the front door because I wanted to catch her in her deception. Everyone had parked on the street because the reception hall didn't have its own parking lot. To the left, was an alley with a locked gate hiding the trash bins. To the right, a driveway to the back of the building was blocked by the caterer's truck. The waiters and cooks from Sid's Catering World were on parade in and out of their trucks. I silently cursed the caterer, as I turned left. Thankfully, no one was out front as I climbed over the locked gate by the trash bins. I was lucky that my suit and tie didn't get snagged on the sharp edges of the gate that had gouged my hands. After dropping to the ground, I let my eyes adjust to the darkness as I stood in the alley. It stunk. While stepping over wet boxes, bundles of wire and broken glass, my nostrils were filled with the stench of decay and urine. After passing by the garbage bins, my eyes adjusted to the darkness and I carefully crept the rest of the way down the alley without making a sound. When I got to the end of the alley, I peered around the corner of the building. Above me, a single floodlight attached to the soffit of the roof's overhang illuminated the back lot yet still left me in the shadows. The lot was surrounded on all sides by the brick walls of two story buildings. The vacant buildings were devoid of windows but were pockmarked with graffiti. The lot was packed with old junk like old kitchen appliances, the skeleton of a rusted out delivery truck, and unmarked crates that haven't been opened in the last decade. The rest of the back lot was covered in high weeds and darkness. As I stuck my head out further, I spotted my wife and the stranger on the stoop outside the back door. For the first time, I noticed the stranger was much taller than my petite wife. He could have easily picked her up, tossed her over his shoulder and carried her away. She couldn't do anything to stop him. The stoop was hidden from the other alleyway by a brick wall and a locked gate but I had a good view from where I stood. Because the light above me was shining into their eyes, they couldn't see me but I could see them. Also, because of the acoustics of the stark brick walls surrounding the lot, I could clearly hear them. In this woeful setting, the two of them had isolated themselves. They thought they were alone. In this dismal scene, I could hear the stranger hit on my wife, "I am having the best time tonight. I was going to leave right after I had a few drinks but then I saw you. You're the most beautiful woman I have ever met. When you smiled at me, you stole my breath away." "Thank you. I never expected to have such a good time either." "The only problem is that I wish your husband wasn't here." "When I first got here, I was mad at him but, since I met you, I forgot about him. You have been distracting me. My husband hasn't been a problem, has he?" "No, not at all. As a matter of fact, he didn't even tell me to move when he came to the table. He just sat there, stewing. I don't understand what are you doing with that oaf. If I was him, I would have fought for you...and won." "My husband gets very jealous sometimes and I wanted to teach him a lesson. He always accuses me of cheating." "He should be jealous. I haven't taken my eyes off of you since you walked through the front door. You're a sexy, desirable woman and I am very attracted to you." His words proved my fears were real. From the shadows, I wanted to yell out, "See, I have every reason to be worried. He even told you himself. He is only after one thing." But I didn't say anything. I just listened and watched to see what she would do next. Instead of realizing I was right, my wife dismissed his compliment and said, "You shouldn't be interested in me. There are plenty of pretty, unattached women here for you to meet." "Yes, there are plenty of pretty women here but none of them are as beautiful as you. Also, they are very boring compared to you. When I am with you, I become blind to all other women. Besides, you make me laugh." Enjoying the compliment, my wife grinned and said, "How do I make you laugh?" "Like when you walked up to me and told me to buy you a drink because you're mad at your husband. Or, when we clandestinely followed your husband around while he was hunting for you. He's such a goof." They both laughed at my buffoonery. Then he continued, "Or, like when you switched my place card at our table with your husband's. You didn't even try to hide your deception or any make excuses. Best of all, when you saw him, you grabbed my hand and put it on your thigh. He was so pissed." For a moment, she looked embarrassed by being so forward but then she said apologetically, "I was really mad at my husband and I knew he would hate me sitting next to a handsome man who was interested in me. Especially, one that was touching me." "After tonight, he's really going to hate you. He knows that I am very interested in you and I want to touch you so badly." From the tone in his voice, I knew what was going to happen next. Like a panther leaping at it's prey, the stranger moved in and put his arms around my accommodating wife. He pressed her against the door and leaned down to kiss her. At the last moment, she turned her head to avoid him and playfully warned him, "Don't, someone may see us." "No one can see us. We are alone and no one will ever know what happens back here. I want to kiss you. We both know you want to kiss me too." Playfully, she deflected his advance, "Don't be so sure of yourself. I am older than you." "You don't look like it but it doesn't matter to me. You're sexy." With a flutter of her big, blue eyes, she teased, "You're just a baby. As a matter of fact, you're so young, I could be arrested if anything happened between us." "You can stop worrying. I'm 21 so the government isn't going to care what we do together." "My husband will care." "He doesn't care either. He had his chance to stop us when we were inside but he didn't do anything. He didn't say a word to us all dinner. Even when I took you away, he never lifted a finger to stop me. He's a wimp." With those last words, he must have gone too far because my wife defended me, "Don't call him names. He is my husband and I love him." The stranger attempted to soothe her ruffled feathers, "How much can you love somebody who won't protect you? He was more worried about making a scene than trying to stop me from stealing you. Don't you remember, he let me walk away with you?" Making excuses for me, my wife said, "True, he didn't fight for me. But maybe, I had wounded him too much when I asked you to sit next to me. Maybe, he knew I was already pissed at him and didn't want me to get madder." "Then, why wouldn't he say word to you all dinner? Why would he just glare at you from across the table like a mad animal? Why would you want to be with somebody who treats you like that?" She thought about it and started to see his point, "I don't know but, when he didn't say a word, I got madder. At that moment, all I wanted was an apology but he acted so high and mighty. When I saw that look on his face, I wanted to hurt him even more so I left the table with you. I shouldn't have done that but he made me so mad." "Don't worry, I'm here to help you with both issues. I'll put a smile on your face and a frown on his." Encouragingly, my wife pushed him away and said, "No, now that I think about it, I acted just as badly as he did. I changed my mind. I cannot stay out here with you. I'm married and my husband is inside waiting for me." "You don't act like a married woman. When we were dancing, you were rubbing your sweet body all over me. You're a hot, sexy woman looking for love." "I didn't mean to lead you on but I've had too much to drink. My husband always tells me I'm a lush when I drink." Lost to D-Town "Then why did you come outside with me when I asked? What did you think I wanted?" "It was hot and crowded inside so I thought it was a good idea for some fresh air." "You're lying. You wanted to torture him and make him jealous. But, now that you are out here alone with me, you're scared. What you don't understand is that I'm not the kind of man who will let you tease me. I'm going to get what I want." I could see my wife was trying to slip around him on that narrow stoop when she said, "No, I didn't mean to tease you. I'm sorry. Why don't we go back inside before someone sees us." "No, I understand you don't want your husband to catch you out here with me. But first, I want a kiss from you. I have been waiting all night for it." Laughingly discarding his proposal, my wife said, "I'm not kissing you." "Consider it a payment for making your husband jealous." "No, I can't do that." "Yes you can. You are more than capable. But, if you want to keep playing games, you can stay out here with me all night with me. You stay out here until your husband goes insane or until you change your mind and kiss me. Anyway, I'm feeling a bit lonely and I don't have anyone waiting inside for me so I would love your company." Like a child pleading to stay up a little later, my wife pleaded, "Let me get by you, please." "No." Playfully, my wife warned him, "I'll scream." Coolly, the stranger responded, "Go ahead. No one is going to hear you over the music. Everyone is too busy dancing to notice." "Please let me go." Not letting up, he responded, "I will let you go but it will cost you a kiss." I was dreading the next words that would come out of her mouth when I heard her say, "Then you're going to let me go? Promise?" "I promise, if it is a good kiss, I'll let you go." "You better be telling me the truth." I could see her thinking about it. I wanted to scream out that he was tricking her. If she let him kiss her, he wasn't going to stop there. She should just say no and push him out of the way. I wanted to scream out to her but I didn't. I wanted her to make the right decision on her own or I would always have doubts. Then, I heard her take the first step to betray me. She said, "Okay, just one kiss." With a smile, he said, "You won't be sorry." As he stepped forward to hold her, she chuckled, "I'm already sorry." Tilting her full red lips up to him, she closed her eyes and waited for him as he leaned forward. Their kiss was tender. At first, nothing more than a first date kiss. It was a kiss full of promise and hopes. Then, the kiss turned into a series of soft, sensuous pecks to determine each other's desires. Each successive kiss lasted a little longer than the previous kiss. Each new kiss probed a little deeper. Careful not to rush, the stranger took his time to let their lips melt together until finally, they were engaged in one long, continuous kiss. Like the first few chords of a slow piano sonata, the kiss was slow and measured. But then, I could see his tongue slip into her mouth. Expecting my wife to protest, I was shocked to watch as she reciprocated. The kiss built momentum as their tongues intertwined and danced. They showed no awkwardness with each other. I was worried that their mouths were foretelling what they wanted to do with each other. Strangely, I noticed my cock had hardened while watching them kiss. I never expected to react to my wife's infidelity by getting a boner. Because It was so odd, I ignored it and continued to spy on them. As the kiss continued, their tenderness turned from a simmer to a slow boil. At first his hands were on her waist but then he reached down and squeezed her ass. I could see his fingers clutching her round butt. He pressed her upper torso against the door and she seemed to like it. Even from this distance, I recognized her whimper. Her whimper meant she was enjoying their kiss and wanted more from him. I remembered the sound from when we first dated but it had been years since I had last heard it. But now, someone else was extracting the whimper from her. To the stranger, her whimper was a sign of her approval for him to do whatever he wanted to her. As their kiss became more intense, his hand slid up her torso until he his hand clutched her boob. Before she could stop him, he kneaded her breast. Although she brushed his hand away, he continued to try to fondle her as they kissed. With each successive grope, her whimper grew louder. Finally, my wife broke free of the kiss and shook her head. No longer lost in the kiss, she started to feel guilty and said, "Oh god, what am I doing out here with you? I need to stop." I was encouraged by her sudden regret. With the realization that things had gone too far, she must have decided her behavior was wrong and soon, would be heading back to the table to look for me. Soon, she would be begging for my forgiveness for her alcohol-fueled mistake. Even so, I would make her wait for me to forgive her. I would take her back only after she had apologized. Anticipating her retreat, I was prepared to sneak back to the table before they returned but the stranger had other ideas. He said, "You're not going anywhere because we aren't done here. Not by a long shot." Not deterred by my wife's indecision, the stranger kissed her before she could protest any more. When she tried to pull away, he grabbed a fistfull of her hair and forced her lips back to his. When their lips touched, she willingly kissed him in return. At this moment, I could tell my wife was falling for him. Within seconds, he had her pressed her against the door to make sure she couldn't escape. Having temporarily immobilized my wife, he started dry humping her against the door. This time, his hands were all over my wife, feeling her without further restrain. To give my wife credit, she fought off the octopus the best she could but she always seemed a few steps behind him. As he pulled her shoulder strap down to expose her breasts, she immediately pulled it back up before he was successful. But, by then, he was already pawing at her other breast. No matter how hard she fought back, her defense didn't slow him down. He just kept trying. He was determined to get my wife to surrender. As the stranger fondled my wife, I thought of a bumper sticker, "Winners never quit." As they continued to grapple, I could tell her defense was weakening. She wasn't showing enough determination to stop him from molesting her. Rather than a battle between the two of them, I sensed it was more like an elaborate dance where she wanted him to continue without the guilt of admitting her desire. Soon, he had slipped his hand inside the neckline of her dress and was fondling her bare breast. Watching his hand inside her flimsy dress, I realized I would no longer be the only man to touch her breasts since our wedding. I was no longer special. While his hand was squeezing her bare breast, I tried to ignore the throbbing in my own cock. His other hand slipped down and pulled up the hem of her dress until I could see the white of her thighs along with flashes of her panties. When he used his foot to spread her legs, she obliged him. As my wife was being ravished, I knew I should do something but I didn't. Instead, I watched them embrace from the safety of the shadows. I heard my wife say, "We should stop now." When I heard her wavering, my hope increased but it soon vanished. Not letting her escape, the stranger said, "You're wrong. We haven't even gotten started. I want you more now than when I first saw you walk through the front door." "I can't. I'm married." With complete confidence, the stranger stated, "Stop teasing me with your married bullshit. We both know you want me. You were the one that sought me out. You started flirting with me. You were the one that put my hand on your thigh. Now that you have my interest, we are going to finish it." He added, "You must realize, when you get back to the table, your husband will already be furious. Naturally, he will think we have been together. In his mind, he will have convinced himself that I already had you. Then, he will sulk and simmer for the rest of the evening. The rest of your trip will be agonizing." Deep down, I knew he was right. That was exactly how I would have acted if I hadn't followed them. In this situation, I offered her no escape or refuge but only promised turmoil. I felt ashamed of myself but kept watching. Even if he was right, it didn't mean she should give up. He paused and then added, "If you're going to be in trouble, you may as well enjoy yourself first." As logical as his statement was, I hoped my wife would ignore it. If my wife really loved me, this was the moment she needed to show some self-control. She needed to reject him and come find me. She needed to show him she wasn't interested in anyone else but me. If she really wanted to fight him off, she could have screamed for help. She could have hit him and rushed back inside. Instead, she looked around the dark lot for witnesses and she meekly said, "No. I shouldn't." There was no conviction in her voice. She didn't say "No" because she meant it. Rather, she said "No" because it was the right thing to say. When I looked real closely, the look in her sparkling blue eyes said, "Take me." My wife didn't move. I could tell she was resigned to defeat as she waited for him to make the next move. Sensing her weakness, the stranger tenderly kissed her again but this time it was more intense, more primal. She kissed him back just as strongly. Her words may have said "no" but her mouth was willing. The stranger knew my wife better than she knew herself. I was torn between the bitterness of betrayal and the excitement of watching her being seduced. While watching, my cock was begging for attention so I started to rub myself through my slacks. Instead of resisting, my wife kissed him back as his hands roamed her thin cocktail dress. Soon, her hem was pulled up so high, I could see the edge of her black panties stretched across her narrow hips. During their embrace, I caught momentary glimpses of her panty's sheer floral lace. I didn't recognize her sexy panties and wondered whom she was thinking about when she put them on. Finally breaching her last barricade, the stranger shoved his hand between her thighs and pressed upward, almost lifting her off the ground. In this position, his hand cupped her pubic mound as their kiss continued. With such intimate contact, their kissing became frenzied. I could only imagine where his fingers were but, from my wife's whimper, I had a good guess. As I watched her torso undulate against his fingers, my cock demanded more attention. I started to rub it harder. The thought of another man making my wife wet excited me. Even more exciting was the thought of my wife's wetness on another man's fingers. I couldn't take my eyes off the intertwined couple. He broke off the kiss and said, "I want you so badly, it hurts. Forget about your husband and come home with me." "I have never been unfaithful to him." The stranger laughed and said, "That may be true, but your husband doesn't believe you. Besides, I can tell by the way you kissed me that you want me too. You're too willing, too sensuous to let this moment pass. I can tell by the way you kissed me that you want to be unfaithful with me, tonight." "I don't know if I can." "Another kiss will convince you, but, this time, you must show me you want me too. Show me that you want me as much as I want you." "Okay, but then I have to go back inside before my husband notices I'm gone." Again, the stranger leaned forward to kiss my wife but this time both of her arms slipped around his neck and she left herself unprotected. As they embraced, she let his hands explore her body without hindrance. Without restrictions, his hands surveyed every curve and hollow of her clothed body. She was letting him do whatever he wanted to her. Soon, he sought out her bare flesh. I watched as the stranger hooked his fingers under her shoulder strap and tried to slip it off her shoulder. This time, my wife didn't resist. When he tried to pull her shoulder strap down off her left arm, she let him. My cock jumped at the sight. As he exposed one of her breasts, she made no attempt to cover her porcelain skin. Before now, she hadn't displayed herself to any other men. As a matter of fact, I had always made sure she was modestly covered. So other men wouldn't covet her, I never let her sunbathe or go to a pool so her breasts didn't have tan lines. I don't think she even owned a bathing suit. Her skin was pearl white and unblemished. My breathing was becoming hurried at the sight of her bare breast. The woman, who had once promised herself to only me, was giving herself to another man. She should have been fighting him off. Instead, she looked up into his eyes to see if the stranger liked her exposed breast. The stranger paused to appreciate the treasure he had uncovered. I always thought my wife had the world's most beautiful breasts. That was one reason why I was so protective. A little larger than a handful, her breasts were pert and shapely. Still perched high on her chest, her bare breasts didn't reveal her age. On the weekends, she never wore a bra around the house and I always had a hard-on. Today, my reaction was no different. My cock begged to be released from my pants and stroked. I felt so disgusted by how excited I was by spying on my cheating wife. Regardless, I wanted to see more. Until now, her breasts were mine alone to enjoy. But now, my wife was sharing them with someone new. As his dark hand squeezed her white breast, my cock throbbed. Because of his attention, her nipple, a pink island in a sea of white, was puffy and erect. After years of being married to her, I knew her erect nipple betrayed her arousal. Like a thermometer, it didn't lie. She was aroused. Hopefully, her nipple wouldn't become any more erect. As the stranger looked down at her, he cupped her naked breast in his hand, weighing it, fondling it. Although his back was to me, I could tell he was smiling when he said, "I cannot believe your husband is the only who gets to see you naked. You have gorgeous tits. I could spend all night sucking on those nipples." I watched as his head tilted forward. My wife leaned backwards, offering her breast to him. As he got down on his knees, his mouth immediately sought out her nipple. He devoured her breasts. With his mouth's attention, her nipple grew longer and stiffer. As I had feared, she was getting more excited. As the stranger suckled on my wife's breasts, she rubbed the back of his head. No longer hesitant, she encouraged his intimacy. As he nursed on her breast, the look on her face haunted me. Once so animated, her face was peaceful as if she escaped into another world. Her eyes seemed to have rolled back into her head as the stranger sucked on her nipples. His mouth had found the dark space in her soul and he seemed to be in total control of her. I should have been angry with her but my cock was rock hard from spying on them. I couldn't take it anymore. Almost on instinct, I pulled my pants down and let them fall to the ground. While he sucked on her nipples, I started to stroke my penis. In the darkness, I beat off. I should have been disgusted with myself but I couldn't stop because I was aroused by my wife's deceit. At that moment, I knew my thrill was perverted but I continued to rub my cock as I watched them make out. I also knew that this may be the last time I saw my wife in such ecstasy. The stranger was no longer satisfied with just one of her breasts. He wanted more. With his mouth busy on one nipple, he uncovered my wife's other breast. Like a woman in heat, she didn't stop him as he pulled the top of her dress down to her waist. Actually, she helped him. With her dress peeled down like a banana exposing its fruit, my wanton wife was half naked. Taking full advantage of his conquest, the stranger took his time switching his hungry mouth from breast to breast. I could hear my wife egging him on with long purrs and sharp moans. As if he was involved in a taste test, he couldn't stop sampling each dessert. The longer he sucked on her nipples, the more erect they got. A long time ago, I could excite my as much as the stranger does now. Once, I too could have her nipples sticking out. But, he had me beat. From the shadows cast on her tight breasts, her nipples appeared to be sticking out even more, like the end of a baby carrot. The entire time he suckled, my wife encouraged him by running her fingers through his hair and looking around the dark lot for possible witnesses. From the look on her face, she didn't want intruders to stop them. At this point, she didn't need to worry because he wouldn't stop even if a tour bus ventured by. Tired of kneeling down to feast on her breasts, he stood up to kiss her but now he was rubbing his crotch against my wife's leg. My wife didn't even bother to cover herself and stood half naked before the stranger. Growing impatient, the stranger grabbed my wife's hand and placed it on the bulge in his pants. He asked, "Can you feel how hard you make me?" With a far off, enchanted voice, she replied, "Yes." He told her, "Rub my cock." Revealing her true thoughts, my wife told the stranger, "I've been wanting to hold your cock since I saw you standing at the bar." Her words drove spikes into my heart but my cock instantly grew harder. Even as she spoke, her hand was rubbing the bulge in the front of his pants as if she was polishing it. The more she felt of him, the harder she rubbed. With her frenzied fondling, she seemed anxious for more. In appreciation of her handy work, he moaned to her, "That feels so good, baby. Don't stop." Soon, her hand was moving up and down the full length of his crotch. Her enthusiasm was hard to watch. Not only was she betraying me, she was doing it with fervor. As her eyes got bigger, my wife seemed startled as she discovered something. She said, "You're so big." With a chuckle, the stranger asked, "Am I bigger than your husband?" This time, I was startled that my wife responded so quickly, "God, yes. He has nothing compared to you. You're the size of my forearm. " My face turned red with embarrassment. A man never wants to hear his cock is significantly smaller than another man's cock. Even worse is when you hear it from your own wife's lips. I couldn't believe my wife would share such intimate details about me. Worse, the stranger said, "I knew it. Only guys with small dicks get so jealous. You're too good for him." With his words, a thousand thoughts ran through my mind. Was he right? In every marriage, one spouse is better looking than the other. She had everything going for her. Looks. Body. Style. I had a potbelly and a weak chin. Encouraged by my wife's derision of my penis, the stranger felt bold enough to tell her, "Why don't you unzip me and take a look at a real cock? If you don't leave your husband now, it may be awhile before you see a real man again." I hadn't even considered my wife leaving me. She must know how much I loved her so why would she leave me. As a matter of fact, I wanted her to stay with me even if she wanted someone else. Why did he say she was leaving? Did she say something to him earlier to indicate she wanted to leave me? Did he know something I didn't? I realized I was being given a vision, a warning, a preview of what could happen. If I said anything more to her about tonight, she would leave me. Now, I knew it. If I pushed her, she would jump into this stranger's arms or maybe to another man. Either way, she would be running away from me. Lost to D-Town While rubbing the length of his shaft, my wife responded to the stranger, "I would love to take a better look at your cock." "Then, what is stopping you?" Her next words hurt, "Nothing, I really want to touch it. You're right, I may not get another chance." My wife seemed curious. She stopped stroking the bump in his pants and found the top of his fly. Even with music playing inside, I could hear the sound of his zipper as her hand moved down the front of his crotch. Her fingertips found the opening. Although their bodies were pressed together, I could see her hand slip inside his fly. The thrill on her face showed she had found his cock. She carefully pulled it out. While I stroked my own cock, I watched my wife give the stranger a handjob. It was bad enough that she let him half-undress her, but now she was trying to please him and she wasn't timid or reluctant about it. My chest tightened up as I realized my wife had her hand around another man's cock. Not just another man, a complete stranger until just a couple of hours ago. She was no different than a whore at the end of a dark alley with her customer. The thought both disgusted me and thrilled me. They kissed while my wife stroked the stranger's cock. Hoping no one ever found out what I was doing, I stroked my cock to the same tempo as my wife's hand. After more kissing, more groping and more stroking, the stranger pulled away and said, "Oh yes, baby. You've got me so hot right now, I need to fuck you." Instead of being shocked, my wife gave him the ultimate compliment. She said, "You're too big. I don't think I could handle you inside me. I have never been with someone so long and thick." With a chuckle, he responded, "There is only one way to find out. I promise to be gentle." She seemed more afraid of his cock than worried about me or our marriage when she said. "I don't think I can do it." "You can do it, babe. I know you really want to." Still stroking his cock, my wife looked down at his shaft in her hand and said, "I want to say yes but I can't. I'm scared." Not discouraged by my wife's hesitation, the stranger kissed her. Again, she was lost to his lips. Still half naked, she lifted her knee up and wrapped her lower leg around the back of his legs. I knew this gesture. She was offering herself to him. Without stopping their kiss, he reached down, hooked his hand under her knee and accepted the gift. As he slid his hand up her leg, her short green dress followed until she was showing all of her bare white thigh. She didn't stop him. As a matter of fact, when the stranger reached the top of her thigh, she pulled her dress even higher so it was easier for him to fondle her. With her dress scrunched up around her waist, the stranger got his first look at my wife's trimmed snatch through her sheer black panties. He immediately started to fondle her pubic mound. When he found the edge of her panties, his fingers slipped under the elastic and brushed them aside. Even though I couldn't see his hand clearly, I could tell by the movement of his arm that he was finger fucking my wife. The look on my wife's face confirmed it. She always loved to be fingered. Her head tilted backwards as his hand pushed back and forth between her legs. I could tell she liked what he was doing to her because her mouth was wide open and her eyes were shut. She enjoyed it so much that she made it easier for him by hooking her foot over the lowest railing and spreading her legs even wider for him. My half naked wife was the hottest sight I had ever seen. Even her pornagraphic shadow on the wall was stimulating. I couldn't stop myself any more. More than ever before, I needed to cum. My balls tightened and my cock swelled in anticipation. I couldn't stop myself. As the stranger finger fucked my moaning wife, I sprayed white cum all over the side of the red brick wall. Spurt after spurt, I couldn't stop cumming as my willing wife humped his wet hand. I pumped my penis to paint the wall with my sperm. Finally, I ran dry. As the blood rushed from my head, I felt like I would blackout. Pulling back around the corner of the building, I silently collapsed against the wall. Neither a groan nor gasp escaped my lips but I felt my heart banging against my ribcage. I was surprised they couldn't hear it. I had never cum so hard in my life. As I tried to catch my breath, I heard the stranger say, "You're so goddamn hot. I want to fuck you so badly. When are you flying home?" Not wanting to miss any part of the drama, I peered around the corner just as my wife replied, "We fly back in the morning. We won't have time." Unlike me, the stranger knew how to coax more out of my wife. When she wouldn't agree to his plan, he stopped finger fucking her. With her pussy juice covering his hand, he pinched her nipple and instructed her, "Figure out how you can get away." I could see my wife thinking, plotting but nothing came to her mind. Normally smart, I think my wife was lost in a sexual fog. As the stranger tweaked her nipple, my wife flinched but she didn't pull away. Instead, she moaned. While he pleased her body, her mind tried to figure out a way to cheat on me but failed. As she bit her lip, she released a sigh. "I can't think of anything." The stranger was fondling my wife's breast as he offered her some options, "Can you sneak out after he goes to sleep tonight? I'll get a room in your hotel and you can sneak down to my room. I can't let you slip through my fingers." "No, he is a light sleeper. I would never get out of the room." "Okay then, my car is down the street. Let's go there so we can be comfortable." "We can't. If we go out front, someone may see walking to your car. My husband may find out." Frustrated, he pleaded, "Please, baby. I need you so badly." My wife was frustrated too as she voiced her desire, "Oh, what are you doing to me. I need you too. My thighs are so wet." "I can't take this anymore. Stop teasing me and let's do it right here. We are alone and no one will know. Show me that you want me." From the same lips that told me, "I do." at our wedding, I heard, "Okay, fuck me right here." Before she could change her mind, the stranger spun my wife around and had her grab the iron railing surrounding the stoop. While holding her by the waist with one hand, he put a hand on the back of her head and pushed her downwards until her upper torso was horizontal to the ground. Like a cop frisking a suspect, the stranger nudged the inside of her feet apart with his foot. My wife was a fast learner. Holding the railing with both hands, she cooperated by spreading her legs and pushing her round, tight ass towards him, wriggling it. I'll never forget the tension in her long legs perched on her tall black heels. Looking back over her shoulder at him, she was ready for him. The stranger flipped her dress up to her waist to expose her sheer black panties. With little bows on each hip, I should have remembered her panties but I didn't. He tried to slip her panties off but he became frustrated because her legs were spread so wide. I laughed to myself as he realized he had her spread her legs too soon. Not in the mood to wait, the stranger used both hands to grab the side of her panty and pulled on the seam. With barely any effort by the stranger, I could hear the material ripping until he tore it. No longer able to stay up, her black panties slid down her left leg until it rested around her ankle. Now, her pussy was bare and available to him. I watched intently as the stranger unbuckled his belt and let his pants fall around his ankles. His boxer shorts followed next. So his shirt didn't get stained, he pulled it up and tucked it under his chin. He had the flat hard stomach of someone who spent time at the gym. But, I was shocked when I saw his cock. It was as thick as my wrist and stretched up to his belly button. At first, I couldn't believe he was going to try to bury that pole into my petite wife. Holding her so she didn't squirm away, he rubbed the head of his cock against my wife's wet pussy. My wife reached back to help him. The two of them worked together to get his cock lubricated and inside her. Little by little, he pushed his shaft deeper and the, slowly pulled it out. With each stroke, she seemed to get wetter and wetter. Even from this distance, I could see her juices glistening on his cock. As he thrust inside her, her breasts undulated back and forth. I couldn't take my eyes off of her. She looked so sexy, so desirable. I realized that I didn't appreciate her as much as I should when I heard her say, "Oh god, you are so big. I'll do anything you want but please fuck me. I want to feel you explode inside me." When I heard those words, I noticed my cock was hard again. I had never been able to get hard twice in a night. I wasted no time before stroking my cock again and watching them. Calm and clear, he instructed her, "Bend over some more so I can slip deeper inside you." She obeyed. She pushed her ass higher and her head lower. "Is this better?" "Perfect." Holding her by her hips, he started to stroke his cock inside her as if she belonged to him. In the squalid ruins of Detroit's back lots, I watched my wife getting fucked by a stranger with a massive cock. Their bodies slapping together sounded like applause. The worst part was that she was enjoying being fucked by him so much. Better than she had ever enjoyed being fucked by me. I have never seen her so happy or so excited. By the look on her face, for the first time, I knew what I woman in heat looked like. I stroked my penis while watching my wife bent over with her dress around her waist and her legs spread wide. To maintain her balance while he stroked his cock inside of her, she grasped the metal railing tighter. I could hear her say, "You feel so good inside of me. I have never felt so full in my life. Even though your cock can almost split me in two, I love the way it feels. My entire body is opening up to you, trying to find room to take in more of you. Fuck me." If I was him, I would have died to hear those words directed to me but he just grunted back at her. Every once and awhile, his thrusts made her lose her grip but her long red fingernails managed to find the thick railings again before she fell over. In her struggle to hold on to the railing while the stranger fucked her, I noticed the diamond on her wedding ring twinkle at me. Perched on her black high heel shoes, she was the perfect height for the stranger to fuck her without a care. Holding her by her round hips, he methodically pumped his cock into my petite wife. Again and again. I just watched. He had already lasted longer than I ever had and he didn't seem close to cumming. Although she had totally given herself to him, he continued to taunt her. "How does it feel to get fucked by a real man instead of a whiny punk like your husband?" Avoiding any disparaging remarks about me, my wife said, "You can have me anytime you want. You're more man than I can handle but I am yours for the asking." "Am I more of a man than your husband?" Again, she avoided insulting me, "Please don't stop. I'm almost there." After a few long, slow strokes of his shaft into her pussy, he reached down and diddled her clit. My wife involuntarily shuddered at his touch. Finally, he froze. He stopped fingering her and stroking his cock inside her. Standing perfectly still, he said, "Tell me that I am a better fuck than your husband. Say it or I'll pull out and you can crawl back to your husband. Tell me how much more you want me than your puny husband. Tell me that you're my little slut." Frustrated by his restrain, my wife tried to push her hips back against him but he didn't let her move. With his hands locked on her hips, he held her still as she struggled for more penetration. As I watched, my previously reluctant wife became an animal in heat. Finally, the denial of his cock coerced my wife into answering the stranger's questions. With the same voice she uses on me when she has to admit she is wrong, she said, "Yes, you're right. I'm your slut." When she admitted it, he let go of her hips and let her fuck herself on his rod. As she kept rocking back and forth against him, he said, "Tell me more." The implied threat was that if she didn't tell more, he would stop. Like a snitch in front of the warden, she rattled off a list of my offenses, "God damn it, if you must know, I am not attracted to him. You're more of a man than my husband ever dreamed of being. You're better looking. A better kisser. A better lover. I have to fake it with him so he will stop screwing me. On the other hand, I'd never get tired of you. I could cum with just a touch of your finger." "Do you belong to me or your husband?" Without hesitation, she said, "I belong to you. Ask me to do anything and I'll do it. Tell me to say something and I'll scream it. I am yours to do with as you please but, please, don't stop fucking me. It feels so good. I want you to pump me full of your cum so I can remember what it feels like to be a woman." Satisfied with her confession, he started fucking her again and soon their movements were in sync. He used long slow strokes to penetrate her tight pussy with his shaft. Soon, her tightness was washed away with her own juices. They were both silent as they concentrated on their carnal exercise. Finally, from the look on his face, he couldn't hold back any longer. More slapping and grunting was followed by his declaration, "Goddamn, I'm cumming." The difference between pain and pleasure was written on his face as his orgasm possessed him. His thrusts became shorter but more intense. Like a horny dog on a guest's leg, he locked his arms around her so he could hump her until he was done. As his head rocked backwards, I could tell he was spilling his seed inside my wife. His hips thrust with every spurt. When she felt his deposit, the look on my wife's face turned joyous, almost ecstatic. Taking each spurt of his hot cum, a big, wide smile crossed her face. She has the same look when she has a piece of chocolate. The stranger didn't need to hold her hips so tightly because it was obvious that she wasn't going anywhere. He was more than pleasing her. It was the final straw. Without caring who heard her, my wife let loose a loud, guttural groan, "I'm cuming too." Her words echoed from wall to wall and back again. As a non-participating observer, I had never seen my wife cum before tonight. In all of our time together, I had never watched my wife masturbate or cum with the lights on. She was beautiful. I will never forget the sight. Her eyes were wide open as if she had just received the biggest surprise of her life. Still bent over, my wife gripped the iron railing so hard her knuckles turned white as she started to shake. Every muscle in her body contracted and lengthened in quick succession as she started to shake. It was as if, she couldn't make up her mind if she should enjoy it or try to escape. With her body twitching, my wife's neck extended upwards until her chin was pointing high into the night sky. Her mouth was open wide in a silent scream as her body trembled. After watching them both cum, I couldn't hold back. For the second time that night, I shot another load onto the wall. For the next few moments, the three of us squeezed the last twitches out of our orgasms. For a moment, I felt a kinship with the stranger, an unspoken bond. The difference was that he deposited his load inside my wife's tight womb while I deposited mine onto the brick wall again. Finally, when the rush passed, he pulled his limp cock out of my wife and they both stood up. They looked exhausted but happy while they dressed in silence. While putting her breasts back inside her dress, she said to the stranger, "That was unbelievable. You were great. I have never felt so good. I am so happy I met you." Forcing her hand over the lump in his trousers, he replied, "You are so hot that I'm still hard. I want you again." My wife giggled and said, "We can't. I need to hurry back inside before my husband has a heart attack." When they were fully dressed, my wife gave the stranger one last kiss. I watched as she leaned against him, physically acknowledging she belonged to him. He took advantage of her surrender and slipped his hand inside her dress to fondle my wife's breast one last time. He said, "I need to see you again." "I don't know how we can do it. I'm leaving tomorrow morning." "I'll work it out. You'll see." As my wife was reassured, they kissed again. After a moment, my wife pushed him away and, as if forced by an unwanted obligation, declared, "I need to check on my husband. Go peek inside to see if it is safe." Acting as a lookout for my dutiful wife, the stranger opened the door and went inside. While he was gone, she turned around and put red lipstick on her puffy lips. As she fixed her makeup, she scanned the back lot for witnesses. She took her time checking the darkness to see if anyone else knew her secret. Finally, he stuck his head out and announced, "It's clear. Let's go." As she turned to follow him through the open door, she glanced down at her forgotten panties. No one could miss them. The black ball of sheer fabric seemed so foreign on the hard concrete. I expected her to pick them up but she smiled and left them there as she turned to leave. She must have thought that since she couldn't wear them, she didn't need them. Or maybe, she didn't want any evidence of their tryst. Or maybe she thought, I would never know her pussy was bare. After a moment the couple disappeared inside, holding hands. After the back door shut behind them, I scurried over to the stoop and grabbed her discarded panties. They were wet, torn and fragrant. I stuffed the evidence of her adultery into my pocket and I crept back down the alley. I had to get back to the table before them. When I got to the locked gate, I peered over and saw someone, an intruder, walking to their car. As I waited for them to leave, I thought about the night's events. I had always imagined her with someone else but now, I had seen it. Deep inside, I realized that my jealousy had pushed her into the arms of another and I didn't know what she would do next. Now, that I seen her with someone else, I felt differently than I thought I would. Instead of being mad, I enjoyed it. I made a promise to myself. So that she wouldn't leave me, I would become a loving and adoring husband. No more jealousy. No more attitudes. I would become the man she deserved. I didn't want her to leave me but I knew that, every once in awhile, I would push her into becoming mad at me. Mad enough to do something about it. If I kept pushing, maybe she would punish me again. Hopefully, she would punish me with another betrayal. As the intruder's car started, I reached into my pocket and fondled her panties. They were so small that they would fit inside the palm of my hand. They were soft and moist. As the car vanished down the street, I put my fingers to my nose and inhaled. With a flash, the pungent aroma of my wife's arousal made my cock hard again while a dozen images of my wife's affair flashed before my eyes. Her breast. Their kiss. His cock. Her surrender. For the third time that night, I got another hardon. Knowing I had to get to our table before the traitors, I forced the drama from my mind. I looked up and down the street to make sure the coast was clear and found a foothold. As I climbed over the fence, I wondered what my wife would say to me. How would she explain her absence? What lie she would tell me? I wondered what degrading comment the stranger would say and how I would react. A hundred scenarios played out in my mind but one thought stood steadfast, "How many more panties will my wife lose?"