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The Secret within Me Ch. 01

By: absoluterotter



My wife is a sexy woman! There, I've said it. I always believed it, but I've recently begun to discover just how much sexier she is than I had previously given her credit for.

We've been married for 15 years, each in our mid-to-late thirties. I've never had cause to complain about our sex life, not in all of those years. Whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted it, it was available to me. No questions, no headaches, no restrictions. She was ready for anything, at any time; responsive, available, experimental, occasionally initiating things, but not over-demanding. When work colleagues or friends would occasionally moan about their own partner's limitations in that department, I would smile inwardly. Everything in my own marriage was as I thought I wanted it to be, a bed of roses, and a veritable bowl of cherries.

Six months ago, if you had asked me, I would have said that I was entirely satisfied with our sex life, and I would have bet good money that Yvonne would say the same thing. How wrong I would have been, on both counts!

But I'm getting ahead of myself. The last six months has been a revelation to both of us.

It started simply enough. Yvonne got an opportunity for a package, as part of a restructuring, from the company where she had worked for the whole of our married life. It was an opportunity too good to be missed. A once-in-a-lifetime chance to leave with an excellent package, an excellent reference, and to seek a new challenge elsewhere. We discussed it and agreed that she should take it. The offered package gave us a financial buffer for up to 12 months. Yvonne was smart, bright, and talented and her skills were in demand. It was a no-brainer decision.

Her old company couldn't have been more generous to her. Nice gifts, nice words, nice leaving parties, nice promises to stay in touch from everyone from the MD down. After the last party, a lavish dinner in a local posh-nosh restaurant at which Yvonne was the guest of honour, Yvonne awoke the next morning to the start of the rest of her life. Our plan was that she would take some time off in order to regroup and gather her thoughts before she started looking for a new job in earnest as the summer ended. 

That first morning, when she woke as an independent woman of leisure for the first time in her life, she seemed a new person. Free. It marked the start of the change in both of our lives.

She rose with me that first day, determined to make the most of the day. As I got ready for my normal day at the office, Yvonne readied herself for a morning at the gym. It was a luxury for her to be heading to the gym during "working hours". She usually had to squeeze her exercise regime into her spare time in the evening, or at weekends. Her plan was to do her workout, have a swim, and then spend the afternoon making me a rare weekday treat, in the form of a nice home-cooked dinner, instead of our usual staple weekday fare of pre-prepared ready-meals purchased from the supermarket for convenience.

I kissed her goodbye and hoped that she would enjoy her day, and I made my normal commute to the office, already looking forwards to a nice dinner with my lovely wife when I returned that evening.

When I got home that evening, everything was as I expected it, or even better. Yvonne met me with a kiss as I came through the front door. She was dressed nicely, hair and make-up like a Stepford Wife. The house was tidy, the smell of my favourite dinner wafting from the kitchen. I remember thinking to myself "if this is what having a kept woman at home is all about, then bring it on!"

Yvonne's lips lingered on mine slightly longer than a normal welcome home kiss. When she eventually pulled away and took my hand to lead me through to the dining room, where the table was already laid, I followed like a loyal puppy, my metaphorical tail wagging with the pleasure of being welcomed thus. A cold gin and tonic was placed in front of me, and my perfect wife sat with me and asked about my day, half listening to my long lazy answer, before fussing into the kitchen to serve up our meal.

Dinner was delicious, washed down with a decent bottle of red which we shared, and Yvonne kept up the perfect wife impression by keeping a lively conversation going. This was new territory for us, actually sitting together for a meal on a weekday. In the past we had invariably rushed down a TV dinner in the lounge, squeezing it in between work, bedtime and whatever chores or other activities we needed to get done in the few hours of so-called leisure time that we had. 

I questioned Yvonne about how her day had gone, but the questions were gently by-passed, but in such a way as to not arouse any suspicion or concern on my part.

After dinner, Yvonne cleared away, refusing to accept any help from me on the basis that I was the busy breadwinner, and shouldn't be expected to have to do domestic duties when at home. Whilst she cleared up the dishes, I retired to the living room with the remains of the Rioja, and settled in front of the TV to catch the 9:00 pm news.

Thus far, it had been a perfect evening and we had each played our part as one half of our perfect domestic scene. I felt entirely satisfied, but with a faint niggling suspicion that things had been too perfect. I think in the back of my mind, I was wondering whether things had been so perfect because Yvonne was trying to show me how great things would be if she didn't return to work as we had previously planned.

My intuition and suspicion turned out to be right, but for all the wrong reasons.

Yvonne came to join me on the sofa, and curled her legs under her as she snuggled against me, her head on my shoulder, her left hand resting innocently on my thigh. I remember being aware of her breast pressing against my arm. Our heads turned instinctively towards each other, and I kissed her and thanked her for preparing dinner and looking so lovely. She kissed me back enthusiastically, and told me that she had been looking forward all day to my coming home so that she could see me and take care of me.

We watched the rest of the news together, terrible stories about the ongoing troubles in the Middle-East, a mass shooting in a small-town America shopping mall, and happier news about a recent UK lottery winner that had given half of his winnings to charity.

We shared the last glass of wine, and it was when I asked again how her first day of freedom had gone that things started to change.

At first, it was all innocent enough. Yvonne explained that her day had gone to plan. She had done her work-out at the gym, had a swim in the pool there, and then headed home early afternoon to spend time pampering herself with a nice bath, ex-foliation, and then she had enjoyed having the time to do her hair, nails and make-up without any pressure of time, before she started preparing dinner. When everything had been readied for my return home, she had repaired to her dressing-room to get dressed in time for me to get home around 7:00pm. She said it had been really nice to have the time, and to spend that time on her own, doing as she pleased.

I was genuinely delighted that her day had gone well for her, and I had certainly benefited from the way she had spent it. However, her next comment opened the door to the next six months of discovery that would change both of our lives, although I didn't recognise its significance at the time.

"You know," she said, "there is an entirely different population of users in the gym during working hours to the people I have seen over and over again in the evenings and at weekends."

I asked her what she meant. How were they different?

"Well, I didn't see any of the faces that I usually see, everyone was completely new. And the atmosphere is much more relaxed during working hours. The people take their time more; there are fewer people there and more machines to go around, much less rushing and pressure to complete your routine."

I commented that that must be a good thing, and she agreed.

"It is, definitely. Somehow it felt much friendlier, more intimate. I liked it!"

Whilst I had always been a bit of a gym- and salad-dodger myself, Yvonne had been a regular attendee after work, and had once won the award as "member-of-the-month", giving her a free month's membership and her picture on the "rogue's gallery" on the stairs. She had often told me about some of the regulars that she saw there; the older couple who always exercised together, the middle-aged guy that had worked hard to lose 20 pounds in weight before he lapsed for a few months, and when he returned he had found it all again, the small gang of young men who trained together after work, mostly with free-weights, and talked incessantly about diet supplements, the prima donnas who seemed to go mostly to pose, but didn't really do a lot of working out, and nor did they look like they needed to.

Now, with the benefit of six months' hindsight, I sometimes wonder to myself "if I could take back my next question and not experience everything that has happened since, would I?"

I asked her if there was anyone interesting in the "new gang".

She was hesitant at first, and when I, looked at her, she looked slightly flushed (I thought it was the wine), and she seemed to be debating with herself. I waited patiently and she eventually answered me.

"Well, yes actually. There was."

I looked at her quizzically, waiting for her to expand.

"There was one guy, very fit, I'd say late forties. He obviously works hard at keeping fit, but he seemed to take an awful lot of interest in what I was doing."

My interest was raised, both by what she had said, but also by the apparent reluctance and shyness that I had noticed before she answered me. All face-to-face conversations are a combination of verbal and non-verbal communication, and despite the apparent innocence of her spoken comment, I was definitely picking up some non-verbal signals that were hinting at something more.

"How do you mean, 'taking an interest'?" I pressed her.

"Well, he seemed to be close to me a lot, working a similar routine, often on adjacent machines or apparatus. I could feel his eyes on me a lot of the time; he was certainly watching me more than he was watching the TV screens on the wall or on the equipment."

"Did he bother you?" I asked, "I'm not surprised that he looked at you, I know how hot you looked in your gym kit when I left this morning."

"Don't be silly" she said, giving my thigh a playful slap. "He didn't bother me so much, didn't actually say anything to me. But I was very aware of him watching and looking. It affected me rather than bothered me."

"In what way did it affect you?" She paused again for a moment before answering, as if debating with herself how much to tell me, or how to respond.

"Well, being aware that he was watching was kind of disconcerting. You know how vain we girls are. I kind of thought 'well if he's going to be looking that hard, I'd better try to look my best'. He was quite attractive, and he seemed to be interested in me. I suppose I reacted to that."

She looked up at me as if for reassurance, and we kissed again before she continued.

"Anyway, I found being watched like that made me work a little harder than normal. I upped some of my weights, and increased some of the repetitions. I found myself being much more aware of what I was doing; caught myself holding in my tummy, or arching my shoulders a little more. It was quite strange; I'm usually so much into my own space when I work out, and now it was more like a performance, and I was aware that I had an audience. I felt like I was posing for him."

For some unaccountable reason, my cock stirred slightly at this statement. I remember being surprised by that reaction, and part of my parallel processing brain searching for the reason why that had happened to me. At the time, I think I put it down to the vision that was forming in another part of my cortex, a picture of my wife in her fairly skimpy outfit posing as she worked out. Any man would react to that vision, and here was I reacting. I'm also sure that, at the time, no part of my reasoning was based on the fact that she was doing this posing for another man. I have since learned better.

To encourage her to say more, I inanely commented "Well anything that encourages you to work harder must be a good thing, isn't it?"

"Well it certainly made a two-hour work-out pass much more quickly than it sometimes does." She paused again before going on, shyly. "However, I think I began to enjoy it a little too much."

My cock stirred again at that, and my interest in hearing more ramped up faster than Yvonne's weights and reps. had done. Without saying anything, I turned down the volume on the TV and invited her to say more.

"I found that I liked posing for him, exaggerating my movements, holding poses, knowing he was watching me. In the wall mirrors, I watched myself as if with his eyes. I liked what I saw, and I liked that he was seeing it. It began to turn me on a little."

Now my cock was definitely reacting to this confession. I know it sounds unlikely, but I had never even considered Yvonne reacting to another man; she was mine and we were happy. I was aware of course that other men found her attractive and they often took the opportunity to look at her when circumstances allowed, but I took that as an inevitable part of being married to such an attractive woman. And now I was starting to get turned on at the thought of her getting turned on because some stranger was eyeing her up. It was new and weird.

But I was intrigued, and wanted to know more.

"So it was turning you on? Striking poses for this guy and letting him look at you?"

"I'm ashamed to say that it was," she confessed. "I know guys have checked me out in the gym before, but I've always ignored them and got on with my routine. To be honest, it always felt kind of creepy before. But this morning, and I don't know why, it was different. I wanted him to look at me, and I wanted him to enjoy what he was seeing."

I shifted slightly on the couch, partly to turn towards her to look at her as we talked, and partly to hide the growing and surprising bulge in my pants.

"Just how turned on did you get?" I asked.

"At first, I wasn't really turned on, just tingly. I was aware that I was reacting differently this time, but, you know, it was innocent." She paused again. "Or at least, innocent-ish!"

"And..."

"Well, as things progressed, and as he became a bit more blatant about looking at me, I started to get more excited by the situation. I started to change my routine a bit to see if he would follow, and he did. It was like I had him at the end of a piece of string. Where I went, he went. I started to feel like I was influencing him, controlling him, and to encourage him more, I started to pose more for him."

Yvonne kissed me again, and this time our tongues probed each other briefly.

"Are you OK with me telling you all of this?" she asked. "I didn't know whether or not to tell you. I wasn't sure quite how you would react."

I answered her by reaching down and sliding her hand, still on my thigh, upwards and over the bulge in my pants.

"Oh my God!" she exclaimed, "Is this turning you on as well?"

She wrapped her hand around my bulge and squeezed my length gently, snuggling in even closer.

"I'm so glad you aren't upset," she continued, "I have been as horny as hell all day thinking about this, trying to understand it. If hearing about it is turning you on, then I can stop feeling guilty and we can enjoy it together. Do you want me to go on?"

I indicated that I did.

"Anyway, by now, he was getting quite close and openly watching me, and he must have been aware that I was putting on a show for him. Do you remember what I was wearing?"

I nodded again, remembering the little white UnderArmour bra top and brief gym "skort" that she had been wearing when I left for the office. Whilst perfectly decent, the top left most of her midriff and her navel exposed above the brief skirt with its built-in shorts beneath.

"Well I went over to the bench press and got my weights ready, taking my time whilst he finished a rep. and came over closer to me."

As she continued to describe her session, Yvonne started a gentle manipulation of my cock through my trousers.

"I deliberately stood astride the bench facing him, one foot on either side, and sat down with my legs open before I lay back on the bench and reached up to take the bar off its stand. As I adjusted myself on the bench, I looked across at the mirror and could see that my skirt had ridden up, and my shorts were stretched tightly across my crotch, fully visible - the shorts I mean, not my crotch." She giggled at that. "He must have had a perfect view up between my legs from where he was. That's when I really started to get excited."

Yvonne shifted her bum down the couch away from me, until her head was resting almost in my lap, her hand still stroking me gently.

"I felt really wicked as I let him watch me do my presses. My legs were open, and all that covered me was the thin material of my shorts. I could even feel myself starting to get moist, and I remember hoping that my wetness wouldn't show and make my excitement more obvious."

As she said this, and I quietly listened to her account, her hand stopped stroking me and her practiced fingers reached for my zipper. Once open, she reached inside for my now erect cock and manoeuvred it to stand erect and exposed. Her hand then unsnapped the button of my pants and sensuously returned to the naked skin of my hardness, where it coolly circled my hot cock and stroked lovingly up and down its length.

Yvonne looked up at me and asked me again if I wanted her to continue. I was in a daze of confusion and excitement. This was way beyond anything I had ever experienced before; her story was pushing at the boundaries of my passion, and I was completely unable to explain to myself why I found this so incredibly arousing. I swallowed hard and nodded that she should go on.

"As I was doing my presses, as I got to the end of the last set of repetitions and the strain had built up, I found my tummy crunching harder and my feet occasionally lifting from the floor with the strain of each press. I used the rhythm of the movement to plant my feet even further apart when I relaxed again, so that when I had completed my final press, and dropped the bar onto the stand, I was laid back breathing hard, and with my legs stretched as wide apart as possible. I just lay there recovering and let him take it all in."

She had continued to stroke me slowly and now turned slightly and took me in her mouth, sliding her wet lips smoothly down my length until the head of my cock was pressing against her throat. I had never felt so turned on, and shifted my own position to make it easier for her to caress me.

After a few seconds, she surprised me by taking her lovely, warm and wet mouth off of my erection and, planting a quick kiss on the head of my cock, she jumped up from the couch and stood legs apart, staring down at me. I looked at her, perplexed by this sudden change of situation.

Her voice took on a slightly commanding tone, one that I was unfamiliar with.

"Right, I've been randy all day, and it is now your turn to do something for me. If you want to hear any more, I suggest that you shut things off down here and lock up, before you join me in the bedroom."

Wow! I thought. What is going on here? For a few seconds, I looked at her in confusion and surprise. Then she bent down and kissed me as her hand gave my cock a reassuring squeeze.

"Come on lover-boy. I think you'll enjoy what I have in mind."

With that, she turned on her heel and flounced of and up the stairs towards the bedroom with a wiggle in her step. I quickly switched off the TV, tucked myself away in my pants, and took the empty wine glass into the kitchen, before locking up and following her upstairs.


The Secret within Me Ch. 01



By the time I entered the bedroom, she was stripped down to her underwear and I again marvelled at her beauty and elegance. Her underwear wasn't significantly different in terms of coverage to what she had worn earlier at the gym, and I couldn't help imagining what she had looked like on her back on the bench-press bench, with her legs akimbo, and her chest rising and falling after her exertions with the weights.

I came out of my shocked inertia and quickly stripped out of my own clothes as she finished removing hers, and we jumped naked into the bed at the same time, pulling the covers over us, and snuggling together in our familiar way. She immediately reached down for my still hard cock and resumed her teasing chat.

"So, my husband likes the fact that I have been exciting another man. What should I make of that I wonder?"

She kissed me again, and then whispered into my ear.

"If you help me to cum, which I have been waiting for all day, I promise that I'll finish the story and return the favour. How does that sound for a deal lover-boy?"

I reached for her breasts in silent agreement and found her nipples were hard and extended; a sure sign of her own arousal.

"I need your tongue, now!" was all she said as her hands came up and pushed down on my shoulders to indicate her intentions.

I wasted no time in sliding down the bed, pausing only to kiss her hard nipples, before I had to move out of her way to allow her to open her legs and grant me access. Climbing between her legs, my erection pressed between my stomach and the bed, I had my mouth on her shaved pussy lips before more than five seconds had passed.

I found her already soaking wet with excitement, her labia already opened like the petals of a flower, and her hard little nub of a clitoris standing and poking from beneath its sheath. As I tasted her essence for this first time today, her hands came to my head and she pulled me into her in desperate need. A moan escaped her, and her eyes closed and her body tensed with her concentration.

"Oh that feels good!" she whispered, and I concentrated on doing those things that long familiarity and much practice had taught me would please her. After licking, and savouring her excess sweet moisture, I used my lips to nibble lightly at her button, before sucking that into my mouth and squeezing it with my lips whilst the tip of my tongue played a dance on its tip. My nose simultaneously pressed against her mound, increasing her pleasure, but making it difficult for me to breathe.

As I settled into our familiar routine, she continued to speak between the appreciative moans and interruptions caused by my actions.

"Oh! I have waited so long for this."

"MMMmmmmmn!"

"I have wanted this all day long, since he watched me this morning."

"You are so clever; so good at that!"

Yvonne had never before been as verbal as she was being now. As I worked on her, concentrating on her needs, and as she continued with little titbits of half sentences, I had time to reflect on all that she had told me so far, and all that she was now revealing, about her adventure and about what she was feeling.

"He was hard!"

"Oh yes, yes, that feels so good."

"When I got my breath back and looked at him in the mirror..."

"Mmmm!"

"...I could see that he was getting hard..."

"...as he stared at me."

I released her hard nub and licked at her lips and below, stiffening my tongue and pushing it into her. First into her still soaking pussy...

"oh yes, oh yes"

And then, pushing her knees up towards the ceiling, down over her arse, pressing at her other hole.

"I could see him trying to hide his erection..."

"mmmmmm"

"...and when I thought about how I had caused it..."

Deep breathing and her hands pulling me away from her arse and back to her desperate pussy and clit.

"...it made me even wetter."

Yvonne's climax built and crashed upon her. Her legs tensed and lifted her buttocks off the bed, pushing her mound into my face, and she moaned and cried as the waves rolled over and through her. I sucked on her hard button as she came, until the sensitivity got too much for her, and she pulled and shrank away from my lips as she had done so often before.

As she quietened and relaxed, I blew gently on her hot sex, and lapped gently at her clit and lips, causing little aftershocks and spasms to flicker through her. Her hands, still on my head, would curl and grasp my hair and pull me away from her whenever the sensitivity got too much for her, but eventually, she got used to my attentions, and she allowed more and more contact, until after a few minutes, she was ready for a repeat.

Then she pulled me into her again, and we built quickly to a new orgasm for her. This cycle repeated several times until she was satisfied, and until I was tired and breathless, catching my breath in great gulps when she released me, and feeling my straining cock pressed between my midriff and the bed.

Eventually, I pulled myself out from between her legs and up to lie alongside her, where she looked at me with love in her eyes, eyes which sparkled with her post-orgasmic satisfaction.

We kissed and cuddled until her body had relaxed again, and she turned to me and cupped my bursting balls, and I knew it was my turn to experience the considerable best that she could offer.

"Thank you" she said, "I needed that."

Her head moved to my chest and her hand from my balls to my shaft, and looking down my body as she manipulated me, she started to talk.

"Did you enjoy hearing about my day?" she asked. "I have never felt anything so powerful before. I loved him looking at me. I loved me wanting him to see me. I loved the effect it was having on both of us. Do you mind that I enjoyed it so much, and that I told you about it?"

I leant forward and kissed the back of her head by way of reassurance, and told her that it had been as hot for me to hear about it as it must have been for her to experience it. This made her turn to face me and kiss me before she renewed her stroking of me and continued to talk to me.

"So my horny hubbie likes me showing off, does he?" She scooted down my body and kissed the tip of my cock.

"How would you feel if I went to the gym again in the morning, and showed off some more?"

She engulfed my cock-head in her warm wet mouth, and I groaned with appreciation at what she was saying and doing to me. Between sucking and licking me, she posed a number of rhetorical questions, all designed to make me even harder, if that were possible.

"Today was a happy accident. I'm sure if we planned it, we could make it much more exciting for him. And for me!"

"I've been thinking of doing just that!"

She licked beneath my glans, before swallowing a sizeable portion of my hardness again; and then releasing me to continue.

"Would that excite you too, if I planned what to wear to let him see even more of me? If I deliberately invited him to look at me and get turned on by what he sees?"

My mind was in turmoil, wanting her to go on talking to me like this, wanting her to go on exciting me, wanting to be in her mouth again. Two conflicting desires; she could hardly continue the provocative and thrilling chatter with her mouth full of my cock, but that is where I wanted my cock to be. What an exquisite dilemma.

I started to imagine what she could do in the gym that she could get away with. I started to want her to further excite this stranger. I started to want him to see my wife in a sexual way; a way that thrilled him. And I started to want to collude and conspire with her to encourage it, and to make it happen. Before I could even begin to imagine what sort of scenario might work, she started to describe it to me.

"I've been thinking about how it could work." She sucked me briefly again, interspersing her speech and her other oral skills in a delightful assault on both my mind and on my body.

"I could wear my leotard, just my leotard, with no underwear."

I knew immediately which item she was referring to. My mind instantly conjured a picture of her wearing it. It was skin tight stretch lycra, and when I say skin tight I mean skin tight. When she wore it, it hugged every curve of her body, every part of her body, so that it looked like she was really naked, that it had been body-painted on. Her nipples and even the little bumps on her aureoles were outlined by the thin fabric, and without underwear, it was possible to see the perfect outline of her sex between her legs. You could even pick out the few hairs above her sex that provided her perfectly trimmed landing strip. It was so revealing, she had only ever dared to wear it without underwear when she originally modelled it for me, and she only ever wore it when working out at home. It had never been worn in public such was the blatant exposure that it produced.

Her mouth was sucking hard at me as I imagined her wearing it for this fit, attractive and older man. My brain was wondering why I found the thought so exciting. I wouldn't be there. I wouldn't be getting the benefit. But I wanted her to want to do it. I wanted her to expose herself to this guy. And I was certainly getting the benefit at the moment.

She pulled her head reluctantly from my cock and turned to look up at me.

"Do you want me to wear it tomorrow darling? Do you want me to go to the gym at the same time as today to see if he is there again? And if he is there, do you want me to just wear my leotard, and to let him look at me again?"

I couldn't swallow. My lovely and usually reserved wife was asking me if I wanted her to expose herself to another guy. One that she had admitted was fit and attractive, and that got turned on by watching her work-out in her sexy gym clothes. Her hand was still stroking me gently as she waited for me to answer.

"I don't know why," I said, "but yes, I'd like for you to do that."

As I said those words I could hold back no longer, and I felt my orgasm hitting me, and the charge of my built up ejaculation starting its surge along my cock. She felt it too; felt my hard cock strain and twitch as I came, almost in slow motion, the first powerful spurt breaking free and shooting across my belly and up to my chest, near to where her head was. She looked back down in awe as rope after rope of my cum shot from my twitching cock, to land on my belly or chest. As the spurts subsided, and the remains of my ejaculate seeped from my cock-head and ran down my shaft over her squeezing fingers and hand, she looked back at my face with a wry smile.

"Oh yes! I think you do want me to show myself to him. I think my hubby has just discovered a part of himself that he didn't know was there. I think we have discovered a part of ourselves that we never even suspected existed."

My immediate reaction was one of shock; that I had lost control of myself so suddenly and so completely and so unexpectedly. I was ashamed of the lecherous thoughts that a few moments ago I had been thinking and using to excite myself to reach this point of no return.

Yvonne reached up to kiss me, and I think she saw some of the concern and shame in my eyes.

"It's OK honey. It's OK. We have both surprised ourselves. Don't worry. We still love each other. We won't let this get out of hand."

If only we had known the depths to which we have since descended, I am sure that she would not have tried to be so reassuring or sounded so positive, and I am equally sure that I would not have been so reassured.

To be continued?...

If you have read this far of this very slow build, then maybe you are interested in reading some more. If so, please let me know, and I will continue. 

I know that this will not be everyone's ideal story, but I wanted to try an exercise in believability; a real story with real characters, and with things happening in a real and credible way. Hopefully, those seeking instant gratification will have stopped reading some time ago, bored with this slow development. 

Hopefully, for those of you that remain, we can continue on this journey together. One thing I can promise; despite a slow start, things very quickly start to happen very much faster.



The Secret within Me Ch. 02



I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thanks for all of your comments for Chapter One - universally positive, which is amazing. Long may that continue.

For those fans of The EMT and Suzanne, Ian and Graham; I am working on the next section. However, the story has taken me on an unexpected twist which is taking me some time to get used to. I hope to get another Chapter published within a week or two of this. Thanks for your incredible patience.

*****

I had a restless night. Although deeply sated by my powerful orgasm, I couldn't rest in peace. We had cuddled together, and Yvonne had quickly fallen fast asleep as I lay and pondered the evening's events. I finally dropped off about 45 minutes before the alarm roused me for another day of the grind, and after I pressed the "snooze" button, I lay awake and thought about all that had transpired.

I turned on my left hand side to see Yvonne lying next to me, peacefully asleep on her back, and with her chest rising and falling as she breathed. The upper half of her torso was exposed, her breasts naked and perky, the blonde hair framing her angelic face. I wondered "do I really want her to be exciting another man?"

As I lay and watched her, full of love, pride and admiration for her, and as I remembered the excitement I had felt the previous evening, I started to get hard again. I imagined her doing as she had suggested, returning to the gym, this time dressed to take advantage of being watched; dressed in her flimsy leotard wearing nothing beneath. My hand found itself on my growing cock and began to stroke it as it continued to swell to full size. I knew that I wanted her to do it. I wanted her to do as she had threatened, and then to tell me all about it.

The movement of my hand gently stroking my fullness must have disturbed her somehow, and I watched as her eyes blinked, and then as she stretched and yawned and her consciousness slowly returned to her. She looked across at me and smiled at me, love shining from eyes that weren't yet quite focused. As she became awake, she became aware that I was watching her whilst gently caressing myself. She turned towards me.

"Are you thinking about what I told you last night?" she asked.

I nodded my confirmation, but continued doing as I was doing.

"Then I don't need to ask if you are having any second thoughts" she continued. She looked down at my erection, my fingertips now sliding slowly up and down the sensitive underside for maximum stimulation, but falling short of bringing me off.

"You do want me to go to the gym don't you? Tell me that you want me to wear my leotard. I want to hear you say it".

I swallowed and returned her gaze, which had switched to my face. I felt small. I felt guilty about how I was feeling and the thoughts that I had been thinking. I wanted to stop what I was doing, but couldn't. I wanted her to know that this whole idea was exciting me beyond belief. I licked my suddenly dry lips and replied.

"Yes. I am thinking about everything you told me. About how it excited you to be watched." My heart seemed to be booming in my chest; my pulse racing, my voice cracking with emotion and excitement.

"I really do want you to go to the gym, and I really hope he is there again. I want you to wear your leotard and I want him to see you, to watch you."

I had to swallow again as my mouth filled with saliva. She watched quietly as my hand encircled my cock and I couldn't resist squeezing my length, and stroking more firmly, almost exhibiting myself to her.

"I want you to get excited again as he looks at you," I continued, "and I want him to get excited as you show yourself to him."

I had to stop stroking myself to avoid coming, but let my fingertips return to their soft manipulation, keeping me just short of reaching a climax, maintaining the incredible high that I was experiencing through a combination of my self-stimulation, my dirty and perverted thoughts, and, as I was becomingly increasingly aware, by confessing my secret feelings to my wife.

This was an entirely new dimension that I was slowly becoming aware of. I had never confessed my sexual feelings or fantasies to my wife before, and here she was virtually demanding that I did just that. What was more, I started to realise, I was enjoying opening up to her like this, almost submissively acquiescing to her request that I tell her my most private and innermost thoughts. I could actually feel the transfer of power in an almost physical way, as I became less my usually assertive self and responded to her demand that I tell her what she wanted to hear.

I think she started to feel this shift in our respective positions herself. Having heard my willing response to her first demand, she spoke again, quietly and sensitively, but no less demanding.

"So you want me to take this to the next level, whatever that is? Whilst you are at work, you want me to be titillating this stranger by exposing myself to him. Is that what you want? Do you want your wife to be deliberately showing herself to another man? Whilst you are at your desk and powerless to interfere, or to protect me should I need it?"

Her words seemed to cut straight through my pounding heart, through the tight knot in my stomach, and down to where my fingers were now trying to stop their stimulation of my organ as I desperately fought to regain control of myself. What she was saying was indeed exactly what I wanted to happen. I could hardly believe it myself, but I could not deny that this was what I wanted.

Before I could answer her questions, I was saved by the bell, almost literally. The alarm that I had put on "snooze" chose that moment to reassert itself, and the radio burst back into life. It broke the spell that I had been under, and we both realised that there was no more time for this game just now. I reluctantly climbed out of bed and headed for the bathroom, my erection testament to my unspoken answer, and embarrassingly leading the way. From the bed, as she started to get ready to rise herself, her voice followed me, almost challenged me:

"I think when we get a chance we need to speak more about this. It looks to me like you are enjoying this almost as much as I am."

Forty minutes later I was sipping at my first coffee of the day in the kitchen. I had managed to stop myself from bringing myself to a climax in the shower, despite the great temptation to do just that. As the Costa Rica richness burned down my throat, I thought about all that had happened so far this morning.

In the shower, I had heard Yvonne as she fretted about getting ready for the day. As was her usual practice when planning an early visit to the gym, she had quickly washed and brushed her teeth in the bathroom we shared, before retiring to her dressing room where I heard the usual noises as she moisturised and made-up, tidying her hair and choosing what to wear from her extensive wardrobe. She would shower later, after her work-out, leaving me to enjoy the shower for as long as I could afford the time before heading off to work.

In the shower I wondered whether she would really do it, and I started to get hard again at the possibility. However, I was enjoying being on the edge, and chose not to indulge myself with the quick sexual gratification of a lonely wank. I wanted to stretch this out; to remain excited and excitable, and to see what transpired. Little did I know it, but what I was doing was practicing for the more extended voluntary celibacy that I would come to enjoy so much later.

It was getting close to my departure time before Yvonne joined me in the kitchen, and at first I was disappointed to see her arrive not in the figure hugging Lycra as threatened, but in a short white gym skirt and crop top. The flash of disappointment that must have been in my eyes was quickly replaced by a more approving look when I noticed the brighter colour of her leotard showing across her midriff where her tanned skin tones would normally show.

As brief as the flash of disappointment had been, Yvonne had spotted it.

"I thought I should just wear these over the top of my leotard, for decency's sake, until I see how the land lies" she said as she twirled in front of me. "Perfectly decent you see, in case he isn't there. You don't want me showing myself off to just anyone do you?"

I swallowed a mouthful of scolding caffeine too quickly as I realised that she was actually going to go through with this, and coughed and spluttered my appreciation for her twirl. Then she stood before me and lifted her skirt so that I could see the leotard pressing tightly against her sex. A perfect "camel toe" was plainly advertising the fact that she wasn't wearing any underwear, revealing the shape of her vulva, the seam of the garment pressing deep between her outer lips. She spun around and lifted the back of her skirt to show me the perfect shape of her ass, covered only in the thinnest lining of Lycra.

"You like?" she asked.

"I love!" I confirmed. At that moment all I wanted to do was to carry her upstairs to our bed and sink myself into her welcoming moistness. My hands reached for her, but she danced away from me and she kept her distance.

"Oh no you don't!" she said firmly, but with a twinkle in her eye, "I have a sort of date, and you have to go to work. I'll call you as soon as I get out of the gym, but just to tell you whether he was there or not. I won't go into any details until you get home, so don't bother asking."

She took my cup from me and turned me towards the kitchen door, pushing me softly in the back to propel me to my commute. I looked at my watch and realised that I really did need to get going if I was to make my train. I grabbed a quick kiss goodbye, and then propelled myself towards the front door. As I was about to go through it she called after me.

"And leave it alone today. Save it for later. Promise?"

I answered "Yes!" and left wishing she would have a nice day, and then I was back in the real world and on my way to work, my head full of lascivious thoughts about my wife and an unknown stranger.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Work that morning was unbelievable. I could concentrate on nothing, and kept looking at my watch and imagining where she was and what she was doing. Just sixteen hours or so earlier, and I had been heading home as normal, with none of these thoughts or ideas in my head. Now, it felt like my world had been turned upside down by this strange and wonderful game that we had started to play.

In quiet moments, when I was able to think about things properly, my emotions ran through a gamut of passions, including excitement, nervousness, bewilderment, jealousy, pride, love, curiosity and desire. I wondered what was happening to me when my mouth would suddenly fill with spittle and my breathing shorten to brief swallowed gulps of air, and my pulse quicken as my heart raced. At other times, my mouth would be dry, and I'd seek distraction in pouring another cup of coffee that I didn't need.

As lunchtime slowly edged nearer, I kept looking at my phone, praying for it to ring. By noon, it hadn't rung all morning and my worry and concern were mounting. I kept thinking of how things could go wrong; what if they threw her out of the gym for blatant exhibitionism, or what if the others there complained about her behaviour.

Finally, at about 12:30, the phone did ring, and I saw Yvonne's mobile number in the caller display. My heart stopped as I reached for the phone too quickly, nearly knocking the whole contraption to the floor. I managed to grapple with it and get the handset to my ear, and breathlessly said my name.

"Hi. Look, I only have a minute so this will be quick. Everything is OK. He was there, and we had fun. I'll tell you all about it later, but I didn't want you to be worrying all day."

I tried to interrupt with a question, or say that I had been worrying, but she silenced me.

"Not now darling, I have to go. I'll see you tonight and we can enjoy it all at length. I must go. See you later, and love you!"

With that she was gone, and I was left holding a buzzing phone against my ear, and with a raging hard-on beneath my desk. I was bewildered and confused. It took me a minute to rest the handset on the cradle, and I looked at my screen blankly as I replayed every word she had said, a couple of times over, trying to analyse them for any hidden meaning.

If the morning had been painful, then the afternoon was sheer torture. I wanted to call her at home and find out more. I wanted to go to the bathroom and amuse myself with imagining what had happened. But I did neither. I tried to concentrate on the work that I hadn't done in the morning, and failed to do it again. The clock ticked more slowly, and the hours dragged as if the world had stopped turning. The whole afternoon was like one of those interminable nights when you can't sleep, but want to, and the minutes and hours drag by, seemingly without end.

Finally and at last, just as the alarm will eventually ring to signal the end of your insomniac night, the clock approached a position that was close enough to the end of the day to allow me to slip away. I sat on the same train, with the same people, and with the same free newspaper in my hand, but I looked at none of them or it. I just wanted to be home.

And eventually I was. I turned the key in the front door and pushed it open, wondering what was going to be waiting for me on the other side.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The house was silent and still. I called "Hello!" but it wasn't answered. There was no obvious sign of life and, confused, I mechanically put my keys in the drawer and stripped off my jacket as I walked down the hall towards the kitchen. As I passed the door to the lounge, I looked in. Empty. The kitchen was the same. No Yvonne working on dinner. No sign that any sort of a start had been made on preparing dinner. I started to worry.

I had imagined all sorts of scenarios when I approached the front door, but I had never imagined this.

I quickly checked the other ground floor rooms; it was the same all over. No sign of Yvonne, nothing out of order, no sign of occupation. In increasing panic, I ran upstairs. The bathroom was empty, but at least there were signs of life; a used bath towel was hanging over the edge of the bath. I didn't stop to look, but went straight to our bedroom where I burst through the door. I came to a sudden stop.

Yvonne was lying on the bed dressed in her bathrobe and curled into a foetal position, facing away from me. At first I thought it was just a robe discarded thoughtlessly on the bed, but the prominent round towelling covered globes of her bum showed that she was in there, bundled up and covered by the voluminous robe.

My growing panic that something had happened to her turned to relief, and I slowed myself as I stepped across the room towards her. Halfway to the bed, and panic re-asserted itself. Was she ill? Had she been hurt? Was she OK?

I walked around the bed quietly, and looked at her. She was fast asleep, and there was no sign of any injury or trauma. Her beautiful face was cradled on her arm, her eyes closed, and she was breathing deeply and regularly, lost to the world around her. 

I watched her for a second or two. I sat gently on the bed beside her and reached over to pull a strand of hair away from her face, and the movement caused her to stir. After the frustrations of my day, and the panic that had arisen in me when she didn't welcome me at the door, I felt a rush of relief and love for her as I watched her slowly awake.

When her eyes blinked open, I leaned over and kissed her on the cheek, and she slowly unfurled and stretched, her arms reaching for me and pulling me to her for another, deeper embrace.

"I'm so sorry," she said, "I must have fallen asleep. You're home already, and I haven't done anything."

I reassured her it was fine, and asked her if everything was OK. If she was OK?

"I'm fine. Really, I'm fine." She rubbed at her eyes and combed her fingers through her hair. "I was late home and jumped in the bath for a soak. When I got out, I was exhausted and just had a lay down. I must have been more tired than I thought, I was fast asleep, and having the strangest of dreams."

I turned and slipped to my knees on the floor at the side of the bed so that I could kiss her again, and she pulled my head into the crook of her neck and cuddled me tightly. She spoke softly into my ear.

"You poor thing. All day at work, and you get home to find nothing prepared for your meal, and your lazy wife fast asleep in bed. What must you think?"

I couldn't think of what to say, and just mumbled something about being happy that she was OK; that I had been worried about her all day, and that I was home now and just glad to be with her. Inside me though, there was a growing and nagging desire to hear about the adventure that had left her so tired, but with her in my arms and our heads together in the comfort of our bedroom, I didn't want to force the issue; I didn't want to break the spell.

After a few minutes she gently pushed me away.

"Go and get yourself a drink while I put something on" she suggested. "Then I'll join you and we can order takeaway. While we are waiting for delivery, I can start to tell you about my day."

I was reluctant to leave her, but she was adamant, and as she scuttled off the bed and made for her dressing room, I returned back downstairs and poured a much-needed gin and tonic.

Yvonne joined me 10 minutes later. She had "thrown-on" a silky pyjama style outfit that she rarely wore, but that she knew I loved. She looked fantastic. The silk material draped over her curves, and she was clearly naked beneath. Her breasts jiggled in a delightful, fluid way when she moved, and the hard peaks of her nipples brushed against the light material, making little moving points that I found it hard to look away from.

"Will you be OK with a Chinese?" she asked, and after receiving my assent, she picked up the phone and called in our usual order of four or five favourite dishes. As she put the phone down and crossed the room to where I was sitting, she sat on the floor at my feet and leant with her arm across my knees. Looking up at me she batted her eyes and spoke in a husky voice.

"Dinner will be about 45 minutes. What would you like to do while we wait?"

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

After I told her I was all ears to hear about her day, she started on her story. Her opening words were enough to grab my immediate and total attention.

"Hmmmmm. Where to begin? Well, I have to confess to the fact that I have been a very naughty wife! Very naughty indeed! And I'm not talking about the 'falling asleep and forgetting to make dinner' type of naughty. Oh no! Something altogether naughtier. I hope that you will forgive me if I make a full confession?"

I gulped another mouthful of G&T and nodded for her to proceed. As she did, her hand playfully crept along my thigh and towards my crotch.

"Well, I went to the gym first thing as you know. I was there by about nine, after the office workers had all left for the office, and before the smaller day crowd had assembled. I looked into the main equipment room as I passed on my way to the Lady's locker room, and it was almost empty. Almost, but not quite! He was there, already working out."

My cock was already expanding down my thigh as her hand reached its tip, and she stroked me through my trousers.

"I thought 'this is perfect! There is virtually no-one else here' and I hurried into the locker room and threw my bag into a locker. I was on my own in there, and I quickly slipped out of my skirt and top, leaving just my leotard. I was already feeling a rush, and when I looked at myself in the mirror my excitement just doubled. God, that leotard is revealing when it is all you are wearing. I wondered if I could go through with it, but said to myself 'it's now or never'."




The Secret within Me Ch. 02



She looked at me to see my slack-jawed appreciation and no sign of disapproval. I was fascinated to hear what transpired.

"Anyway, I grabbed a towel from the rack - I thought I could use it to cover myself if anyone else came in, and I stepped through the door into the gym before I could change my mind. I went straight to one of the bikes and climbed on, not looking at him or acknowledging him at all. Until I got settled on the bike, I felt almost naked and exposed, but once I'd adjusted it and climbed into the saddle, I felt a little better. I still had the towel draped around my shoulders, and I left it there to provide some cover as I started my warm up routine on the bike."

I closed my eyes and imagined the picture, my near naked wife on an exercise bike in a public gym, and her voyeur friend the only other person in the same room and able to take full advantage. Her hand was now running gently up and down the length of my cock, her head resting on my knee as she got into her story.

"I could see him in the mirror on the wall. He was checking me out as he pulled away on his rowing machine, behind and left of me. He was pulling hard, working up a sweat, with the whine of the wheel whirring and then slowing as he pulled and relaxed alternately. His eyes seemed never to leave me, and I could see as he took in the sight of me from behind."

"I was getting into my own rhythm on the bike by now and starting to feel the heat, so I just reached up and dragged the towel off my shoulders and draped it over the handlebars of the bike. That certainly caught his attention, and from looking at my bum, his gaze switched to looking at my reflection in the mirror, where he'd be able to see my front from where he was. I felt really naughty, and started to want him to look at me again as I continued to pedal hard."

As had happened the night before, Yvonne's practiced fingers found my zipper and pulled it down before unclipping my belt and pants, then her hand reached awkwardly into my trousers and teased and pulled at my erection. She never stopped talking softly as she did this.

"At one point, our eyes caught in the mirror. I thought he'd turn away embarrassed, but instead he nodded at me a kind of hello. He didn't seem at all phased by being caught looking at me, and I began to wonder if he was fully aware that I was putting on a show for him. I nodded back at him, and that seemed to establish some sort of connection between us. It was like we were co-conspirators, each playing our part."

She stopped speaking for a moment and reached up to plant a kiss on the end of my cock, before quickly taking me into her mouth and sliding her lips up and down my length a couple of times. It didn't last long though, luckily for me as I would have been unable to stop myself coming if she had continued. She pulled away with a wet plop from her mouth, licked the underside of my straining hardness, and then went on as she continued to gently stroke me.

"So there we were. Him looking at me, and me watching him look. It was how you wanted it to be, and I started to think about you and how excited you had become last night. I knew that you wanted me to show myself to him, and knowing that was ramping up my own excitement."

"He was starting to slow on the rower, winding down to move to a new machine, and like yesterday, I wanted to see if I could lead him around a little and influence what machine he went to next. As he gradually reduced his pace, I also ended the circuit that I had been doing on the bike, and stepped off. He continued to stare at me, almost arrogantly, as I stood by the side of the bike and grabbed my towel and wiped myself down. I was glowing pretty hard from the cycling, and when I went to dry my legs, I bent from the waist, pointing my bum at him to give him the best possible view."

I imagined the scene as Yvonne returned to sucking my cock. I didn't want to come just yet, and wanted to hear more from her, so I pulled her away from me and asked her to continue.

"Well, things went on like yesterday for a while. I'd start an exercise or use a machine, and he would always move to a machine or piece of apparatus where he would have the best view of me. Just like yesterday, I found it really exciting and could feel myself getting damp as he continued to stare at me. At one point, I walked over to the water fountain to get a drink, and he came over and stood behind me, waiting for me to finish. I was bent over at the fountain, drinking from the little tap, and I could feel his eyes on my bottom. It was the closest together we had been since I got in there."

"When I stood up and turned around to move away, he was standing really close to me, and he just held out his hand and introduced himself. His name is David by the way. I told him my name and said I was pleased to meet him, and said something like 'we seem to have the place to ourselves'"

I now had a name for the mysterious stranger, and knowing it seemed to make the whole situation more personal and erotic. I asked Yvonne to tell me what she and David did next.

"It was time for my bench presses again, and as I went over to the bench he followed me. As I was setting up the bar with the right weights, he asked me if I wanted him to 'spot' for me." 

I looked quizzically at her, not really understanding what she meant.

"You know, hand you the weights once you are on your back, and take them from you when you have finished your reps. Anyway, I didn't say anything, but he stood near the end of the bench as I lay back on it, and when I was settled, he lifted the bar from the stand and handed it to me. He was standing right near my head, and as I started to press, he stayed there in case I needed to hand the bar back."

"I noticed that I was looking straight up at his crotch, and that I could see up the inside of his shorts slightly. He has really nice legs and thighs, and I could see almost to his groin. I couldn't help myself from looking as I worked the weights, but I couldn't quite see all the way."

I was swallowing my Gin and Tonic as she continued. It was clear that things had moved on from him looking, and her displaying, and I wasn't sure what I thought of that. But I didn't want her to stop!

"Anyway, I wanted to see better, so I feigned a weakness and he stepped forwards to take the weights. While he held them, I adjusted my position up the bench slightly so that my head was almost between his legs. He passed the weight back to me, and I continued and he stayed in position. Now I could see further, and it was clear that he also wasn't wearing underwear beneath his shorts. I hadn't noticed before, but I could now see part of his cock quite clearly."

Yvonne hesitated slightly when she said 'cock'. It wasn't a word that I had heard her use often, and she was clearly uncomfortable saying it now, but she obviously thought it was the right word for the occasion.

"So, darling, your naughty wife was displaying herself to another man, and looking at his cock" she repeated the word for emphasis. "How does that make you feel?"

I nodded down at my own cock, which was standing at full mast, and said that it was clearly exciting me and that she should continue. I asked her how being so close to it had made her feel.

"It was incredibly hot, lying there on my back, nearly nude, with my legs open, pressing weights and looking up his shorts. I started to get really excited, and I could feel my nipples harden. In return, he was looking at me all over and I could see his cock start to grow. It was obvious that this was turning us both on. I wondered if he could smell my growing excitement."

"Eventually, I finished my repetitions and handed him back the weights, which he rested on the stand above my head. As I was about to get up, he said 'one good turn deserves another' and started to add weights to the bar. It was obvious that he wanted me to spot for him."

"And did you?" I croaked.

"I couldn't very well not do could I?" she asked. "Don't you think it would have been rude to deny him my help when he had been so accommodating for me?"

I agreed, and she continued with her horny tale, now more vigorously stroking my erection, and stopping her manipulation whenever I indicated that I was getting too close by putting my hand over hers and slowing her down.

"So, he loaded the weights onto the bar and asked me to see if I could lift it OK whist he stood by me in case it was too heavy. Standing, I could lift it off the stand, but it would have been far too heavy for me to press. I told him it was OK, and now it was his turn to lie on the bench and wait for me to pass him the bar. I could see the shape of his stiffening cock through his shorts as he lay down beneath me and signalled that he was ready for the weights."

"I lifted them off the stand, and he held up his arms to take them from me, but he didn't reach towards me for them. I then had to shuffle forwards slightly to pass them to him. As I did, I had to open my legs a little to get into the right position, and he took the weights and started to press them, several repetitions of 10 presses each. After each rep, I'd take the weight from him and step back to rest it on the stand until he was ready to start again, when I would shuffle forwards again. His eyes never left my pussy which was almost immediately above his head. There wasn't anywhere else he could have looked."

"I was now really conscious of my own excitement and his, and when he eventually completed his pressing, I had to take another drink of water, just to take a breath."

By now, I was as excited as I could possibly be, and when she moved again to take me into her mouth, I did nothing to stop her, and she sucked and stroked me to a full and explosive climax, which she quickly swallowed, licking and slurping at my cock. As I softened and slipped from her mouth and hand, she smiled at me cheekily.

"It looks like you enjoyed my little story so far. No doubt you will want to hear the rest when you have recovered from Part One?"

With perfect timing, the doorbell rang, and our ordered Chinese meal arrived. I stuffed myself into my pants and struggled to the door to pay and collect, leaving Yvonne sitting on the floor and reaching for what was left of my drink.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I opened a bottle of wine and we ate dinner. Our conversation during dinner was fairly vanilla, although Yvonne hinted that she still had more to divulge. After my powerful orgasm earlier, I was happy to let things lie for a while until I started to feel the same familiar pangs and thrills.

As soon as dinner was over and we had cleared things away, instead of retiring in front of the TV as was usual for us, Yvonne told me to go to the bedroom and she would join me in a few minutes. I undressed and had a quick shower, wondering what else I had in store, but getting excited again about the possibilities, and by replaying Yvonne's exciting tale so far.

Exactly as I had asked that morning and the previous evening, she had worn her leotard to the gym and exposed herself to the guy I now knew as David. The way she had described the adventure had already brought one climax for me, and it appeared she had more to tell me. By the time I had finished in the shower and dried myself, and I walked naked into our bedroom, she was already there, dressed as before in her silk pyjamas, and lying seductively on her side of the bed.

"So, do you think you might be ready for Round Two?" she asked, and I replied by climbing on to the bed to join her, and asking her what happened next.

"Well, the rest of the session went along the same lines. I don't think that there was any doubt in either of our minds that I was showing off deliberately, and he was enjoying watching me do that. Before I knew it, it was about noon and I had been turned on and exercising for three whole hours. I decided that I had to stop, and started my warm-down, and he did likewise."

"We had been talking occasionally as we worked out. On one occasion, as I was doing some arm-curls with free weights, he had come over and told me that they would be more effective if I kept my back a little straighter. He had touched my shoulder with one hand to push it back, whilst using his other hand to push the middle of my back a little further forwards - it was the first real physical contact that we had, and I was distinctly aware of the liberty he was taking by touching me without permission. However, despite my doing nothing to stop or discourage him, there was no re-occurrence, much to my regret. By now I really wanted him to move things on."

I was naked on the bed, and she was clothed, and my prick again started to swell. She noticed and commented.

"You really are enjoying this aren't you?"

I ignored what I thought was a rhetorical question, but after a couple of seconds she repeated herself.

"I'll ask again. You really are enjoying this aren't you?" and she reached over and squeezed my nipple as if to enforce a response.

"It is very exciting to hear about your day, yes darling! I have really enjoyed your tale so far."

"Tell me why?" she demanded, clearly not a rhetorical question, and I thought for a moment before replying.

"I'm not really sure. Before yesterday, hearing such a story would have worried and concerned me, but listening to you last night, telling me about how excited you had become through a purely opportunistic incident, well I can't explain why it excited me so, but it did. I wanted it to happen some more, and now it has."

She listened silently and there was a pause, as if to encourage me to go on. I did.

"I really can't explain it, but the fact that you deliberately went out dressed as you were, to specifically excite this other man, this David, well that somehow has made it even more exciting for me. I've never previously even considered such a thing, but I was excited all day wondering what you were up to, and I couldn't hold back my excitement before dinner as you were telling me the story. It was incredible."

She kissed me again and rubbed my chest where she had previously pinched my nipple, as if to undo any hurt that may have been caused.

"I'm glad that it excites you as much as it does me. No one else has ever initiated a reaction in me like that, other than you. By the time I finished my warm-down, I knew I was soaking wet and ready for anything."

She kissed me and probed my mouth with her tongue in a very intimate embrace. When she had enough, she moved her head so that we were cheek-to-cheek, and she whispered gently into my ear.

"Are you sure you want to hear the rest? Things may have gone further than you wanted. I did say I had been a very naughty wife indeed."

My mind considered the possibilities. How much further could she have gone? What else could have happened? At that point, the brief physical contact between them that she had confessed to was beyond anything I had dared to imagine, and yet she seemed to be saying that there was a lot more to confess. Her speaking to the guy at all was beyond what I had thought possible, never mind them working out together, their faces and intimate parts in close proximity. By now I was semi-hard again, and I had to hear the rest.

"Well? Do you want me to go on?" she breathed into my ear.

"Oh yes! Please don't stop" I responded. It was then that she pulled away from me and her voice changed from an intimate whisper to a sterner and more demanding tone.

"If I am to tell you the rest, we need to establish some ground rules first. I need you to accept some conditions, or it stops right now. Are you OK with that?"

I couldn't stop now, and told her so, despite a misgiving that I had about what sort of conditions she was referring to. I didn't have to wait for very long to find out.

"What has happened, what might yet happen, has happened because you wanted me to expose myself to David. Do you agree with that statement?"

My head told me that there was a significant influence on what had happened that had originated from my wife, but my instinct, and my dick knew that unless I played along with this, I was unlikely to hear the rest of her story, so I agreed. My erection had stepped up a notch at the words 'what might yet happen'. I was lost!

Her voice became slightly more demanding if anything.

"Hold your cock, I like to see you play with it while I am talking to you."

I reached down and stroked myself, my fingers wrapped around my hard-on. I wasn't initially sure if I liked this new authoritative Yvonne, but being spoken to like this was certainly ramping up my excitement.

"Good! The real condition before I go on is that you must not get angry with me, or in any way blame me for what happened next. This was your desire, your fantasy, your kinkiness that lead to what happened, so if you don't like the results, you must bear full responsibility."

Still not sure where this was leading, but absolutely determined to be lead there, I nodded my assent to her 'condition'.

"After we had each warmed-down, and in my case that involved some stretching and yoga holds on the floor mat where he was very attentive to what I was doing, David came over to me and said 'I am going to the café to re-hydrate. Will you join me?' I didn't quite know what to say, but a smoothie or something sounded good, so I accepted. I hope that you don't mind."

I was still stroking myself and watching her breathing get heavier, and her nipples erect.

"I went to the locker room and had a quick clean-up. I stripped off my leotard and found it soaking wet. I needed to dry myself with a towel. In my rush this morning, I forgot to pack street clothes, so all I had with me to put on were the short skirt and crop top that I used to cover my leotard. That was when I rang you, so you can imagine why I didn't have time to talk. I had originally planned to ask you if it would be alright to meet him dressed like that, but I decided that I was going to do so anyway, and I didn't want to give you a heart attack. My leotard was too wet to wear, so I went to meet him in the café dressed in just those, no underwear."

I almost groaned at the thought of my Yvonne in the café at the gym wearing so little.

"I had to be very careful. If I leant the wrong way then I could be exposing either the bottom of my breasts or more, or my ass or pussy. It was exhilarating meeting him dressed like that in a public place, and again we were lucky and other than a couple of swimmers that came in at one point, we were on our own."

Yvonne pulled her top over her head, and slipped down her pyjama pants so that she too was naked. Then she reached between her legs to slide a finger delicately across her lips. She then moved the finger to my mouth and I tasted her.

"I am as wet now as I was then. Telling you all of this is bringing it all back to me. I was soooo excited. David brought us a couple of smoothies, and we sat and talked whilst we drank them. All the time, I could see him looking at my legs and bare tummy, and he was obviously trying to see more of me - the naked me, no longer covered by my leotard. I really wanted to show him, but felt it would be too blatant, but the idea of it excited me more and more."

I asked what they talked about.

"He was really complimentary. About how I looked (he said that with a bit of a smirk), and about how hard I had worked out. He said that most good-looking women in gyms were there only to pose, and he was impressed with how hard I worked. I replied that it was easier to work hard when you were being watched, and he smiled and said again how good I looked, and that he would be happy to help me by watching anytime."

"Then we talked about general things. He retired after selling his business last year, and he fills his time with travel, exercise, golf and a bit of sailing. He noticed my ring and asked if I was married, and I said yes, of course. He said that my husband was a lucky chap. I asked him if he was married, and he said no - very single! It was all the kind of chat-up that I get from guys when you aren't around to deter them. It was different though. I was enjoying it much more. As time progressed and I realised that it was time to go, he asked me if I ever went on dates. The question shocked me, and I just looked at him blankly."




The Secret within Me Ch. 02



At this point, Yvonne opened her legs returned her hand to her pussy, her fingers instantly busy as she touched herself. As she was doing so, she looked into my eyes.

"This is the very naughty bit. He asked me to have dinner with him tomorrow night, and I accepted."

As she closed her eyes and remembered the thrill she had enjoyed accepting the offer of a date with another man, I almost groaned with the thought of it.

"So the consequence of your kinkiness is that tomorrow evening I am going out on a date with David." She opened her eyes and looked at me again. "Remember, this is your doing, and I hope you are OK with that, because I have said yes, and I will be going."

With that emphatic statement, she reached across with her other hand and pulled me on top of her, and guided my cock into her pussy. As I started to stroke into her, and kissed her passionately, she broke her mouth free and continued.

"I came home soon after accepting his invitation. I hadn't showered, so took a bath. I was so horny that I couldn't stop myself. I played with myself in the bath. I gave myself five orgasms thinking about seeing him tomorrow night. That's why I was so tired. That's why I fell asleep afterwards. Oh God, the thought of seeing him is so thrilling, so wicked."

I was making guttural sounds as I humped my naughty wife, and she was thinking about this latest development. The idea of her going on a date with this guy was exciting me too. Unbelievably exciting me. I couldn't hold back, and as I sped up, and as my cock swelled with my lust for her, she closed her eyes and pushed back against me. I came for the second time that night as she reached her own pinnacle.

After I collapsed on top of her, completely spent, she kissed my cheek.

"So, do you think your wife was very naughty?"

When I nodded yes, unable to speak, all she could say was "Maybe not as naughty as I am going to be!"

Next time: it is date night, and there is a lot of angst, and I truly start to discover the secret that lies within me.



The Secret within Me Ch. 03



After all of the excitement of the day and the restless night the evening before, I slept like a baby that night, although my dreams were interspersed with commercial breaks, intrusive thoughts that my wife was going on a date the next evening. I was exhausted after all of the emotional upheaval and excitement, so these occasional reminders didn't really wake me, just disturbed me slightly for a few minutes before I went back to dreamland. Before I knew it, the alarm had gone off and I dragged myself immediately from our bed, and to the shower. Yvonne slept on.

After completing my ablutions, I made my customary first mug of coffee which I drank as I dressed for work. I occasionally shook my head in disbelief at the turn of events, unsure quite how I felt about Yvonne's planned date with David.

After making love so passionately last night, and as we had cuddled and whispered reassurances to each other, Yvonne had stated that she would not be visiting the gym today, but rather would spend the morning catching up with housework, before spending the afternoon getting ready for her date. She was to meet David in the lounge of a hotel across town at 7:30pm where they would have a drink before he took her to dinner. We had agreed that the timing was right for me to get home in time to drive her there and drop her off, leaving her free to drink if she chose to do so. When she was about ready to come home, she would either get a cab or call me to tell me where and when to pick her up.

It was time for me to leave for work, and Yvonne was still sleeping comfortably in bed, so I went in to kiss her before I left. She sleepily returned my embrace, and I left the house, locking the door behind me.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

At the office I had a pile of work to get through, mostly unanswered e-mails from the day before, and some heavy analysis on the first quarters spend figures. The work load didn't allow me much time to reflect on developments, but from time to time I would get distracted and remind myself that my own wife was going on a date that evening. Without exception, these little flashes of introspection would result in my renewed arousal, before the pressures of work called me back from the lascivious thoughts that would spring unbidden into my over-active mind.

The day passed reasonably quickly as a consequence of the hard work, and before I knew it, I was on the train again and heading home.

When I entered the house a little before 6:45, I could hear Yvonne in her dressing room, using her hair dryer to apply the finishing touches to her preparation. I shouted up to let her know I was home, and when she heard me, she replied that she would be a couple of minutes, and that I should poor myself a drink. I did just that, and sat in our living room, listening to her potter about upstairs. I was aware that my heart was racing again, and my mouth was dry until I took a strong pull of my cool Gin and Tonic. I swallowed with difficulty as I waited for her to appear.

When she walked into the room, I thought my heart was going to stop. She was beautiful! Heart-stoppingly beautiful.

Her hair and make-up were perfect, her nails freshly lacquered in a rich ruby red that matched the high-heeled shoes she was wearing. She wore a cream skirt that hugged her hips and fell to just above the knee, and was sporting a shimmering pair of stockings in a slightly darker tan shade than she normally wore. I had no doubt that they were stockings; Yvonne never wore tights! 

Her top was also cream in colour, knitted mohair and covered in little applique groups of sequins, shaped into the outline of flying birds, and that shimmered and reflected the light. I recognised the top. It was one that she had bought and worn for a friend's wedding a year before and had worn only once since. It had a square neck that left most of her shoulders bare, and it was clear that she had decided not to wear a bra in order for there to be no straps visible on her beautiful naked shoulders.

The whole effect was elegant chic. As she stood in the doorway and smiled nervously at me, she asked me if I "thought she would do". I was speechless, and for the first time really began to appreciate that she had gone to all this trouble to look this good for someone else, and not for me. My heart was in my mouth, and a strong feeling of jealousy forced its way into my emotions.

I told her that she looked ravishing. Jealousy was fighting with lust inside of me, and as much as I wanted to stop her going out, I knew that it was too late. I took another sip of my drink, as at the same time I drank her in with my eyes.

She walked across the room and sat next to me on the sofa, demurely smoothing down her skirt across her upper thighs as she sat, before turning towards me and speaking. For the first time, I noticed the glossy lipstick that she was wearing, slightly less red than her painted finger nails, but much darker than she normally wore. I couldn't take my eyes from her sexy lips as she spoke softly to me.

"It isn't too late to stop this you know," she began. "I know I said last night that I had made a commitment, and that I would be going out with David tonight, but if you are really unhappy about the way this might go, then you can still stop me."

Lust was getting the upper hand over jealousy, but both were still strong within me. She saw my doubt and continued.

"You know that I love you. That I will always love you. This is a rather exciting game that we are playing, but it is only a game. If at any time you feel unhappy, then we can end the game and get back to our real life together."

She looked at me expectantly as my mind continued to debate the issue, as if I had any control. As I looked at her, jealousy had a brief renaissance and I wanted to take her in my arms and hug her to me and keep her to myself. Lust, however, reminded me of the excitement that I had been feeling for the last 48 hours and urged me to go on. It was my turn to speak, and driven by her reassurance that we could stop at any time, I tried to do so.

"I have very mixed feelings," I hesitantly began, "you look amazing; I love you to death; I don't want you to go; I want to spend the evening with you."

I saw a brief flash of disappointment in her eyes, and I kissed her quickly on those killer lips.

"But I am enjoying our game. If you mean what you say, that we can stop when either of us wants to stop, then I do want you to go out tonight and enjoy yourself. I am green with envy, unsure about how I feel, but I don't want to stop this adventure."

I kissed her again, a little peck, not wanting to spoil her perfect make-up, and she smiled at me as if she was relieved that I had decided not to call the whole thing off.

"I feel somewhat the same" she said. "I am nervous and excited, and I want to look my best this evening for David, for another man. I would never have believed that I could feel like that, but I do. I don't know how this will turn out, but I am glad that we are agreed that we should continue."

I looked at my watch and realised that it was time we were leaving if she was going to be on time for her date. We both knew that it was time to leave, and without any need for any further discussion, we stood and headed silently for the car. On the way, Yvonne picked up her little purse and we headed off towards our destiny. I held the car door open for her to slide into the passenger seat and watched wistfully as she swung her legs into the car. If I hadn't known already, I knew then, my wife was one delicious woman.

Little was said in the car on the way there. I think we were both as nervous as each other. We hadn't discussed any kind of limits as to what might happen, or how far she was allowed to let this go. I can't speak for her thoughts at the time, but in my mind, she was free to go with the flow as far as she wished to take things. I had already tacitly accepted that this man I had never met, this David, would probably go all the way with my woman; may enjoy her in ways that were meant to be reserved for me. That was a natural consequence of the route we had started down; it was a thought that had popped into my head several times already over the last 48 hours; it was a possibility that I had accepted and that I was excited by. I didn't want to impose any limits or make any demands. Putting my complete trust in her, allowing her to do whatever she thought was right, seemed to be the only option for me. I was passive. I was a remote observer of this adventure. For this evening at least, David had the potential to possess my wife, and I was aiding and abetting him in doing so by driving her to meet him.

I couldn't stop thinking these thoughts as I drove her across town. I couldn't stop looking across at her, seeing her immaculate beauty, wondering why I was allowing this to happen, knowing how excited allowing this making me. I think that in those thirty minutes, as we headed through the steadily lightening traffic at the end of another normal working Friday, I loved and cherished Yvonne more than I had ever loved and cherished her before. She was my soul buddy, my life partner, my most precious thing, my best friend. And I was giving her away to another man. It made no sense. And yet I knew that I had no choice!

Not because Yvonne had made a commitment. Not because the arrangements had already been made. Not even because we had started an adventure that we each wanted to see through to the end. I had no choice because I started to realise that this was my destiny. Since I had come home to learn of that first day of her new life, to learn that she had been watched, and had enjoyed being watched; since we had planned to take this further, since we had repeatedly taken our carnal pleasure by jointly discussing developments, by imagining just these events, I had started to realise how important this was to me. In 48 short hours I had discovered a sleeping monster that lived inside of me. From nothing, this giant that had lain dormant for so long had been awakened. My secret had now blossomed within me and become part of my core. Part of me. It had fed on the wonderful dichotomy of jealousy and excitement that was churning inside my like boiling oil, grown large on the mixed emotions of envy and pride that surged like spring tides within me. I had no choice because this was what I needed and wanted, although I still had no idea why.

That was the state of my mind as I pulled up outside the designated hotel. Yvonne took a deep breath, pulled down the vanity mirror on her side of the car and checked her make-up and flicked her hair. Then she turned to me and said "Well, here we go!" and without another word, opened her own door and stepped out of the car. As she walked around the car towards the hotel door, as if as an afterthought, she turned and blew me a kiss, and then she was gone; disappearing through the lobby door which was being held open for her by a uniformed commissionaire, who I noticed gave her a very appreciative glance as she walked by.

I sat frozen for a few seconds, staring after her as she disappeared into the lobby, before a toot from behind reminded me that I was holding up traffic. I slowly pulled away, wondering if I should park up and sneak back, looking through the windows to see if I could see her, and him, but I knew I would do no such thing. Resigned to a tense and worried evening, I drove home to begin my lonely vigil for her return.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I won't labour on the details regarding how I spent the next five hours. Suffice to say it was everything that I had anticipated and more. I was lonely. I was tense. I was concerned. I was excited. I was unsettled. I was anxious.

I couldn't drink because I may be needed to drive to collect my wife. I couldn't eat because I was too tense and excited and my stomach was tied in knots. I couldn't settle because of the enormity of what might be happening. I pottered around nervously, achieving very little or nothing. Eventually, at 11:00 pm I tried to lie down and sleep, but tossed and turned endlessly, my head full of questions, my stomach full of butterflies. I kept my mobile phone within easy reach every single minute in case I should get a call, and I picked it up countless times to check that I hadn't missed a message or a call, but there was nothing. Its impassive face stared blankly and mockingly back at me every time I picked it up.

Eventually, at about 12:30 am I heard a key in the front door and I sprang off the bed and rushed to the top of the stairs to see Yvonne turning to shut and lock the door behind her, before heading up the stairs towards me. She smiled wryly at me as she climbed, and I visually examined her as she approached.

She looked pretty much as she had when she left me at the hotel, except her lipstick had faded away. She was still neat and tidy, her hair still nearly perfect, and she was dressed as before. There was no obvious evidence that she had done anything except have dinner, but there was a tiredness in her eyes and a slight nervousness about how she walked slowly up the stairs.

I waited at the top of the flight until she stepped onto the landing to join me, and we looked into each other's eyes questioningly, but finding no easy answers to the questions that we were respectively unable to voice. I know what my eyes were trying to say. It was "what happened? Are you OK?" Her eyes were probably saying something similar. "Are you OK? Are we OK?" 

After a few seconds we just stepped together and kissed. Hungrily. With open mouths and searching tongues. I remember my senses all being heightened; searching for any sign of him on her. Wanting to smell his scent on her, taste his taste. But I could discern no obvious sign of him, just the familiar smells and tastes of my wife, of Yvonne, who had come back to me and was kissing me with the same intensity that I was kissing her. We continued wordlessly for several long minutes before pulling apart, kissing again, parting again. Finally, and still without a word passing between us, we turned together and walked into our shared bedroom, my arm possessively around her waist.

It was only when we had both sat on the edge of the bed, side-by-side, that we began to speak. Both starting together, then pausing for the other to speak, and then starting together again, until we finally arrived at an understanding, and I spoke first, this time without any immediate interruption.

"How are you? Are you OK? I've been worried sick about you."

Yvonne held her fingertips to my lips to stem the flow of my questions.

"Shhhh. I'm fine. I'm perfectly fine. I'm home now. We have plenty of time."

I kissed her again, and held her close to me, my chin over her shoulder and my arms wrapped tightly around her. I didn't want to let her go.

"I have missed you so much," I whispered to her, my voice cracking with emotion and with relief. "I am so glad that you are back."

Yvonne broke gently free from my clasp and reached down to remove her ruby red shoes, rubbing her feet in relief, and stretching her toes.

"That feels so good" she said, before reaching back to take my face in her hands. "I guess you want to hear all about it?"

Then it was her turn to kiss me before we each swung ourselves onto the bed, turning to face each other, her dressed sans shoes, me stripped down to my underwear. I could feel the love shining and wetly filling my own eyes, and I could see the same emotion liquidly reflected in hers.

"Yes, I want to hear all about it."

She stroked my cheek as she began to tell her story, hesitatingly at first, and softly, intimately.

"Well, I have to say that it was nothing like I imagined it would be. It was... It was... different!"

She gathered her thoughts.

"When we were in the car going there I tried to imagine what would happen. I was very nervous and nearly had second thoughts and wanted to ask you to take me home. But when we arrived, I knew that I had to go through with it. I was forcing myself to get out of the car and walk into the hotel. That's why I went so quickly. I felt guilty afterwards that I hadn't said goodbye to you properly, but if I hadn't gone straight away, I'm sure I would have chickened out."

I leant in to kiss her and mumbled something that was meant to make her feel better about leaving me so abruptly, but I'm not sure she even heard me.

"In the lobby, I looked around for the lounge bar and walked over to it without thinking. Thank God he was already there. If I had had to wait on my own I'm sure I would have run out of there and chased you down the street."

"But he was there, and before I knew it, he had seen me and stood to greet me and offer me a seat. I could feel the eyes of all the men follow me as I walked over to the booth he had occupied. He had already ordered a bottle of bubbly and had two glasses on the table. He poured one for me and picked up his own, and he made a toast to 'my beautiful companion'. I was flattered by him again, and by his attention, and all of my nervousness just seemed to float away. I drank some wine, and we made some small talk. He was very charming."

Jealousy was re-asserting itself in the melting-pot of my emotions, but I fought it back aided by pride rather than lust in this case. I was very proud of how Yvonne had looked this evening, and I knew that every man in that lounge would have been proud to have had her as his companion. I wanted to know what happened, and it was this interest that spurred me on. I signalled for her to continue with her story.

"As I say, we made small-talk. We chatted away about all sorts of things, and he kept re-filling our glasses. He was easy company, and I was feeling comfortable with him, enjoying his company, enjoying the ambience of the lounge. It was like I imagined it would be at first. We were most of the way through the first bottle and had been chatting for half an hour before I realised it. It wasn't until he asked me about you that things got... well... got different."

I looked at her quizzically. "What do you mean? Different?"

"Well, he asked if you knew where I was. Whether I had told you about him. I thought it was unusual for him to bring you into the conversation. I thought that was a little strange and dangerous for him to do that. We seemed to be getting on fine together, it was like a date should be. It was a date, and he brings up you, my husband. If I had been deceiving you that might have ruined the atmosphere right there. I thought it was a strange thing for him to do."

I could see what she meant. "What did you say to him?" I asked.

"I told him the truth. I said that we had no secrets from each other. That I had told you all about him; all that I knew anyway. And that you had taken me to the hotel yourself. He seemed very interested in my answer, and he nodded at what I said and then he asked me some more questions. 'Do you often go out on dates with other men?' 'Does your husband like you going out on dates?' Things like that. I told him that I had never dated another man in my entire married life, and that what you liked or didn't like was really your own business and not his. I thought that he had gone a bit too far, and I was getting a little cross with him to be honest. I could see our date ending prematurely, and I really felt that he had presumed too much to be asking those questions. You know how defensive I can be on your behalf!"

I knew exactly what she meant. I was easy-going and far more forgiving of others than Yvonne was. She had always been territorial about me, and hated to see anyone take advantage of my laissez-faire attitude. When other people did occasionally take advantage, she would spring to my defence, often before I even realised that there had been any such incursion on my general good nature. I could imagine her now reacting exactly as she had just described, and my heart warmed with love and gratitude towards her.




The Secret within Me Ch. 03



"What happened?" I asked.

"He obviously noticed my reaction, and was a little taken aback; he immediately stopped with the questions. He apologised for being insensitive, and said that it was obvious from my reaction that I was deeply in love with you. He said that he was very grateful that I had agreed to meet with him, and that I had accepted a date, my first ever extra-marital date, with him, and he toasted again. This time he toasted 'Yvonne and her lucky and generous husband'. The moment of awkwardness passed and we continued as before."

"Soon we had finished the bubbly, and he suggested that we head off to the restaurant. He had booked in the hotel restaurant, so it was a short walk to where our table was waiting. Once again, we were in a booth, and he helped me slide into the seat before taking his own position next to me. We looked over the menus in relative silence, although I did tell him that I was a little too nervous to do my dinner much justice."

"I ordered something light, and so did he. He also ordered a very expensive bottle of red wine, and the waiters fussed around us as we ate, drank and chatted. I learnt a little more about him, and he was very careful with the questions that he asked me. I guess he was being wary of upsetting me again."

"Anyway, before I knew it we had finished eating and were well into the bottle of Pauillac, which was delicious, and it was nearly 9:30. When I saw him topping up my glass again, I asked him if he was trying to get me tiddly, to take advantage of me. That's when things turned a bit different again!"

Yvonne paused at this point and quickly stood up to strip off her skirt and top, leaving her in just her little panties and stockings. It gave me a chance to reflect on the fact that so far, there had been nothing particularly erotic about the story she was telling me, and yet I was achingly hard. I was dressed in only my boxers and a tee shirt. When she climbed back into bed with me, I asked her what she meant by "different".

"Well, he said that he hoped that he didn't need to 'get me tiddly' in order for us to get closer. It was obvious that he expected the date to progress so to speak. I can't remember exactly what I said, but it was something about it being difficult to get very much closer in such a public place. That is when he invited me to his room 'for coffee'."

Jealousy surged ahead again briefly, fleetingly, but part of my brain was saying 'here we go. Now it gets interesting!', and lust reasserted itself. I couldn't resist reaching down and adjusting myself, feeling my prominent stiffness, before reaching over to cup her breast and feel her skin.

"And did you go 'for coffee'?" I tentatively asked.

"Not immediately. I sipped at my wine and hesitated, long enough for him to think there was a danger that I wouldn't. But he quickly spoke to me to fill the gap I had left. 'I hope you will come to my room Yvonne' he said, 'you are a very exciting, very beautiful woman, and I have wanted you since the first moment I saw you'." Yvonne's skin was smooth and dry and beautiful to touch and caress.

"I realised that we were approaching the denouement of our date, and that I would need to make some important decisions in the next few minutes."

I watched my hand slide smoothly across her waist as she continued. I was unable to look her in the eye as she reached what I expected to be the pinnacle of her story. As my hand slid over curve of her hip, across the lacy waistband of her panties on her flank, down the outside of her thigh, and slid from the intoxicating smoothness of her skin onto the comparative coarseness of her fine denier stockings, I held my breath as she continued.

"I was still pondering whether or not to go with him when he shocked me again."

My head snapped up in surprise and my eyes quizzed her.

"He said 'Yvonne is in two minds. She loves her husband and is wondering whether it is right for her to betray him'. He was talking about me in the third person, and at first I was confused. Then he continued. 'I would like you to leave Yvonne here. You need never compromise her love for her husband if she doesn't come with me to my room. Leave Yvonne here and be someone else when you come with me'". 

Now it was my turn to become confused as she described this slightly schizophrenic conversation to me. She continued.

"I started to understand what David was saying. What he was proposing was a way for me to resolve my dilemma. It was beginning to make sense to me. 'Yvonne loves her husband. I don't want to threaten that in any way. Leave Yvonne here. Become Yvette for me. Become a new person. Be my Yvette instead of your husband's Yvonne'."

"As the logic of his proposal worked its way into my consciousness, and under his intensely earnest and questioning gaze, I found myself nodding at him, at first slowly, and then with increasing conviction as I started to believe that I could be Yvette."

Yvonne, my Yvonne, leant towards me on our marital bed and kissed me again, with passion. I kissed her back whilst thinking about what she had said. She broke away and went on.

"Eventually, he rose and walked around the table, and took my hand and helped me to my feet. It was easy for Yvette to walk with him to the elevator, and up to his room. I genuinely felt like I was leaving Yvonne behind. I, Yvonne, never went to David's room, but Yvette did."

We kissed again as I took all of this in. David had either been very clever and manipulative, or had confused my wife into compliance with his now admittedly decadent wishes. In either case, it was an inspired move. My wife, whether in the guise of herself as Yvonne, or as her alter-ego Yvette, was now accompanying him to his hotel room. My mind admired his cleverness at the same time as being excited by the possibilities now open to him.

And my cock was unmindful of the route taken, being selfishly delighted with the destination that this intriguing story was heading for. Now Yvonne reached down and wrapped her deliciously cool fingers around my distended organ after casually peeling down my shorts to gain access.

"I see that you are enjoying this so far" she whispered to me. "I assume that you would like me to continue with a description of events in his room?"

I could only nod my agreement. I wanted her to get on with it, to get to the nitty-gritty. But I also wanted her to drag it out, to keep me in suspense, because I was loving the tension.

"Well, when we got to his room he opened the door and invited me in, calling me Yvette. He never called me Yvonne again until just before we left for him to drive me home."

For the first time I realised that David had bought Yvonne home to me; he had dropped her off right outside our house. When I had heard her enter, and as I watched her lock the door behind her, he had probably been just outside watching her safely inside the door. The thought of him being so close, even without me knowing at the time, caused another surge of excitement to flow through me, and brought the adventure to a new level of intimacy for me.

As Yvonne continued to caress me, as she had done each of the last two nights since this crazy adventure had begun, she continued to describe the events as she remembered them.

"We didn't actually have coffee" she admitted, "as soon as the door closed behind us, he kissed me and I returned his kiss. It felt strange, kissing another man passionately like that. Strange and new, but exciting."

My mind was in turmoil again; jealous, wounded, betrayed, anxious, excited, and lustful. But there was no doubt about how my body was reacting. It moved towards her as if controlled by another being. I kissed her as he had kissed her, searching again for that taste, that lingering sense of him. This time, driven by the now erotic tale she was telling, I fancied that I could detect that which I sought as I almost breathed her in as we embraced.

By the time we separated, our remaining clothes had been stripped from us; I was entirely naked and Yvonne wore only her stockings. She took the lead and climbed onto me and I sighed as I felt my engorged cockhead slide into her welcoming warmth. She closed her eyes and remained silent as she started to slide first slowly down onto me, then up and down on my length, a look of intense concentration on her face. I imagined that she was remembering the events that followed that first kiss, and I silently pleaded with her to continue with her story and to share those thoughts with me.

As she continued to work herself selfishly towards a climax, I concentrated on what I was seeing, and on the sensations that I was feeling. She still looked lovely as she focussed on her pleasure; there is a beautiful glow on the face of a woman as she approaches her release. Bringing my heightened senses to bear on the delightful friction that surrounded my cock, I imagined that she felt more moist than normal, that she felt stretched to me, that she felt different somehow. However, it also crossed my mind that these differences could be purely imaginary, and down to my intense state of excitement and frustration, rather than because they were founded in reality. I still had no real idea as to whether or not he had fucked her.

She remained tight-lipped as she continued to ride me, but far from silent. She made guttural noises and cries, and scratched and gripped at my chest as she alternated between faster and slower rhythms to suit her passion. I was loathe to disturb her concentration or impede her progress towards a climax by asking or demanding the knowledge that I sought. I wanted to hear more about what had happened, but for now my wife was beyond my reach, driven by her own needs.

Eventually, she tensed, and then paused in her rhythmic motion, and I felt her pelvic muscles grip my urgent member as she squeezed out a powerful orgasm that built slowly at first, but then that washed over her in a crescendo of release, starting at her sex, but rolling out from her centre over her whole body. I could almost see the ripple of the shockwave of her climax as it spread over her, and her rigid form shook and relaxed, before she collapsed on top of me, physically and emotionally drained, her vagina still pulsing with aftershock, her cheek on my chest where I thought I could feel the drop of a tear from her release.

We lay like that for several minutes whilst her breathing returned to normal. As she calmed, she pecked and kissed at my chest, muttering sweet nothings, squashing herself against me as if frightened that I would leave her. My arms wrapped around her to reassure her, and I stroked her back and ran my fingers through her hair.

I think she wept a little. She certainly trembled. Whether she wept because of emotional release, or out of love, or gratitude, or guilt, or whether it was remorse at her own selfish self-gratification, I could not tell. I do know that I felt no sense of disappointment in her, no sense of outrage or hurt at her selfishness. I felt only tenderness and love for her.

I think she slept a little. Gradually, her trembling eased and her body quieted. We lay there for some time. I was still embedded in her, but less urgently so. We were as close, as intimate as it is possible for two people to be. As we lay there, her unconscious and languidly draped over me, me erect and alert, I knew that she needed time. I was afraid to say anything, or to do anything that would break this magical moment we had shared. I lay and thought. My mind alert and awake. Aware of every sensation that I was feeling.

I replayed what I knew so far in my head. I imagined my beautiful wife walking with David to his hotel room, riding the elevator together. I pictured her dressed as I had seen her earlier. I wondered if he had held her hand as they walked down the corridor together, or if he had put his arm around her in the elevator. Did he step back to let her leave the elevator first? And did he enjoy the view of her gorgeous rounded ass as she stepped in front of him to his room? Did he hear the swish of her stocking legs beneath her tight skirt, and the clip of her heels as she walked? When he kissed her inside the room, did her lips open to receive his tongue? Did her tongue reach out to his, to explore his strange and unfamiliar mouth?

I couldn't think these thoughts without re-awakening my own lust, and I started to move slowly, imperceptibly inside her. My hips began to roll gently, and my cock began to twitch a little, seeking that little soupcon of friction, that smidgeon of contact that my frustration demanded. In a little while, my movements became bolder, my thoughts more lascivious. I was soon imagining them falling on the bed in his room, undressing each other, getting 'closer', exploring each other, being increasingly intimate, fucking each other. And as my thoughts got increasingly depraved, my motions became increasingly bold, and I found myself humping into Yvonne, fucking her from beneath, uncaring now about disturbing our intimate tenderness. I was being as selfish as she had been. I needed to cum.

I think Yvonne awoke to me fucking her urgently. As consciousness returned to her, and she became aware of my urgency, she started to respond; physically and verbally.

She lifted her head and kissed me again, and then started to speak again.

"Oh baby! That's it. Fuck me. Fuck me like the whore I have been. Fuck me like he did."

It was the first indication that I had had that he had, indeed, fucked my wife. It spurred me on, and she felt my renewed excitement. She responded by rolling over, pulling me with her so that I was now on top of her.

"That's right baby. He fucked me hard. Like this. I wanted his big cock in me. I wanted him to have all of me. All of Yvette."

I was now stroking into her vigorously, my own eyes closed with concentration, a reprise of her own performance earlier on. What she had been imagining I cannot say, but I know the pictures that were in my own head. It was my wife, my Yvonne (I couldn't think of her as Yvette), with the stranger David between her legs as I was now, pumping his cock into her as I was doing. Fucking my wife.

"Oh yes baby. He was big and he was good. He fucked me good. He stretched me wide and he made me scream."

As if to emphasise her words, Yvonne started to hump back against me, lifting her hips to meet my increasingly urgent thrusts into her body.

"I came several times that first time he fucked me. I wanted it to keep happening. I wanted to be his. To do whatever he wanted me to do."

My own climax was fast approaching. The first time he fucked her? There were more? It was as if she was reading my mind.

"Could you taste him on me baby, when you kissed me? Could you taste his cocky taste on my lips? He didn't just fuck me, he fucked my mouth first. I wanted him to."

I couldn't hold back any longer, and I thrust into her one last time. Deeper. Longer. Harder. I actually felt the surge of my ejaculation as it raced up the length of my cock and burst into her. That first spurt. And the second. And then more.

She allowed me to pull out of her, almost all the way, and then I thrust in again, or she pulled me back into her, or both of those things, and I released more of my seed into her, whilst a darkness filled my mind, my brain shut down from its vivid imaginings, and my body started to relax with its long-awaited release.

I was breathing heavy, panting with exertion. She wrapped her arms around me, and it was her turn to comfort me. I didn't weep, but I shook. A tiredness swept over me, and as my senses shut down, following the lead given by my now blank mind, I drifted off to sleep, wrapped in the loving arms of my beautiful, adulterous wife.

...to be continued.

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