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Against All Odds

By: Andreina



Hello there *waving* ,

Thank you for taking a look at my story. Just to warn you, this story is not full-packed with rough fucking, but is an a-typical romance one. :o)

If you should find yourself with my story now, pull up a comfy chair, pour yourself a cup of tea or cocoa and relax…. 

Any suggestions welcome.

* * * * *

Storming through the big, heavy oak swing door, which slammed loudly behind her, Andrea drew the attention of everyone in the room on her – except for Charles, the ancient, almost-deaf porter who was watering the plants in the corner. She just about managed to find a seat in one of the back rows of the room, apologizing silently to the audience of professionally and rather annoyed looking journalists. The man sitting at the front table facing them continued with his report, pointing at statistics and tables coming from the OHP. After searching in her rather big handbag for a minute, she finally managed to get her Dictaphone out and set it up on the little table attached to her chair. 

James continued with the latest economic reports and had to smile a bit thinking, "Rookie of the Year – NOT". He then continued routinely with details of the new survey findings, explaining different factors, influences and groups and answering questions of the journalists present who were busy scribbling his words down on their notepads.

Andrea then found a few minutes to catch her breath, not even paying attention to what the "stuck-up, Armani-suit wearing nanny boy on the stage" was talking about and letting her Dictaphone do the job. She hated numbers of any sort and economics even more. "Thank god for the invention of Dictaphones", she thought and gave the audience an imaginative yawn. Leaning back she went through her mental shopping list, then daydreaming away of her soon to come holiday with her friend Mary. Twenty minutes later she was on her way out again, glad to leave room behind her and happy to breath some fresh air. Andrea went straight on to the Thai Restaurant where she was having her usual lunch-gossip with Mary, who worked in the translation department of the same company.

"You were doing what?" Mary asked not believing a word Andrea said. "I had to go to a briefing on the New Economy, you know the briefing sessions they are now sending us to - Fis if fo delifouf!" she answered with a full mouth munching her chicken satay. Mary was still sitting there, starring at her and said with a voice full of disbelief, "And you think James is not good looking… every single skirt in the company wants him – and Tom too", Mary grinned at Andrea. Tom was their gay friend who, admittedly, had a fetish for businessmen.

Shaking her head she smiled and they continued going over and over the latest gossip, checking out the male objects in "Totally Thai" coming to the resolution, yet again, that there has to be a major problem in the world: so many gorgeous single women and so little supply of gorgeous single men. 

After their satay-feast they leaned back on the comfy sofas in the restaurant and Andrea lit a cigarette and told Mary about the "clown's" explanations on the economy and she started yawning immediately again. Mary laughed and Andrea said, with a serious undertone, "I sometimes wonder if I will actually ever find a man that likes me the way I am and that does not make me laugh when I look at him. I mean, if you could have seen that swotty little nanny boy sitting in the room… he looked like such a professional idiot going over the figures and answering question. Somebody has to do that job, I know, and rather him than me. I bet my left arse cheek that nobody understood a word anyway. I'll be that happiest person when Julian comes back to the office and explains to me why we have to do this training." Almost yelling she said in her theatrical voice, "I am a political and strategic analyst and not an economist. I did not even know half the abbreviations he was talking about. How can they expect me to 'incorporate those features in our special reports' ".

"Anyways", said Mary, "let's talk about our holiday", stretching out the last word to make it sound like a delicious desert. One thing Mary and Andrea had in common, apart from loving Thai food and peanut butter, was backpacking. For them, a holiday had to be time spent in a place that has not been run over by hordes of package holidaymakers yet. And this year, they were planning to go back to a place they had been before, but fell in love with: Finland. They booked flights to Stockholm, Sweden planning to spend a few days there with friends from university before setting over with the overnight ferry to Helsinki where yet another friend would meet them before they set off going north to Lake Inari. "Mmmmmhh…… mossies, salmon en mas and no economic reports for a whole fortnight", Mary said with a huge grin on her face, knowing that the mosquitoes just loved Andrea. "You have just taken the words out of my mouth, darling", Andrea replied, almost able to smell the smoked salmon steak and they got ready, paid the bill at the counter and went back to office which was a 10min walk away. 

Still daydreaming away about their cabin they planned to rent once up in northern Finland they went back to work. Andrea worked on the 15th floor while Mary enjoyed the splendid view out of her 22nd floor office, so they hugged each other good-bye in the elevator and arranged to meet in the flat they shared at around 9.00pm because Andrea had to stay late and "research abbreviations" as she told Mary with an annoyed undertone in her voice.

Before she went to her office Andrea went to the bathroom to check her make-up and her hair. "I wish I wouldn't have so many curls" she said to herself looking in the mirror. Andrea was, in Mary's opinion, a special and rare kind of girl: 26 years old, she had received her MA with 22 and then worked in Japan for three years before she decided to come back to the UK to find a 'proper' job. She stood 5'5", not exactly slim and not even close to wanting to become anorexic she had brownish-green eyes set in a face with full lips and a bit of an upturned cute nose, brunette curly hair down to her shoulders with subtle red highlights to compliment her natural colour and boobs that most women would die for and that most men were looking at before they were looking her face . It was not the looks that made her special though, it was her attitude. 

She was a smart cookie who could analyse politics quicker and more precise than most of the people, she was fluent in five languages, loved cars which were almost illegally fast, knew more about sports than some of the guys around in the office, but was also capable of entertaining business visitors who enjoyed fine art and classical music. Most striking for her co-workers was the enthusiasm she showed and the positive influence she had, making people smile or playing practical jokes on them. She had a small circle of friends, but many acquaintances, but she never really let people get to know her. Even Mary, who she knew since she was 20, sometimes had to feeling she was hiding something. And: she had a major problem with men – most of them saw her as a friend who would go to soccer games with them on a Wednesday or discuss the latest development of oncoming Rugby season with them. For them, she was a very good friend – no more, no less.

On the one hand it annoyed her that her love life basically nil compared to Mary's tendency to changing her lovers more often than her knickers (0:6 – Game, Set, Match - Mary Kennarey), on the other hand she …. Okay, she was jealous. As loyal a friend Mary was, she often felt left out when it came to men. Often she could hear Mary coming home from dates with her new man, she could hear the moaning from Mary's bedroom, she could almost smell and feel it how her friend got laid by yet another gorgeous man. She spent those nights touching herself, running her hands over her breasts and then moving them down to trace the outlines of her shaved pussy. Rubbing her clit in the same rhythm that Mary got fucked she got her share of voyeuristic pleasure out of her friend's luck. Sometimes she would cum at the same time and then listen hard to catch yet another turn of pleasuring sounds. 

Standing in front of the mirror, she breathed in deeply to see what she would look like if her stomach wasn't that big, then adjusting her trousers to see what she would like if her bum wasn't that fat and finally pulling faces at the world telling all the men on the globe to go home and bugger a pig. She wasn't going to change.

With a smile on her face she went back to the office and only sat down at her desk after sneaking silently up behind Josh, one of her favourite co-workers, and scaring the living hell out of him.

After finishing re-editing an essay-article on 'New Media in Politics, organizing her meeting-schedule for the next week and faxing some papers to Julian, who was actually responsible for the political economy component, it was already past 7.00pm when she checked her watch.

She got her Dictaphone out of her handbag, and pressed the "Play" button preparing to jot down the most important things this James had said and get over with it ASAP silently cursing Julian for having to break his leg. She waited…and waited… and waited… and nothing came. Checking the Dictaphone, she realised that there was no tape inside. She dropped face first on her desk. "Oh-My-God… Julian is going to shoot me" Not only was that briefing important, no, she was also supposed to 'incorporate the new economical features' in her next research article, which was… oops….due on Monday and today was …oooops….Friday. Swear words of various strength came to her mind.

After trying unsuccessfully to get hold of some of her other colleagues who had been attending the briefing as well Andrea jumped over her own shadow and looked James' telephone number up in the company directory to leave him an urgent message on his voice mail. When he did not call back after 1h she packed her stuff up and left the office. At home, she told Mary the whole story who could not stop laughing. In her eyes, Andrea was the clumsiest person alive – but nothing is so bad that it couldn't be sorted out with some Cookies & Cream ice cream and so the two girls go a tub each and relaxed in front of the TV. 

Andrea's mobile phone rang about 40 minutes after she got home and the incoming call had no recognized ID so when she picked up the phone she was quite surprised and glad to hear "Hello Andrea, this is James Wilkinson from the Economics Department speaking. I believe you left a message on my voice mail. How can I help you?". Running out of the room still holding the tub of ice-cream in one hand she settled down on one of the bar stools in the kitchen explaining the whole situation to James. He gave her a quick run-down on what he said in the briefing while she jotted down notes and interrupted him frequently asking for further explanations. 

"I didn't even know our company was employing people like you," she said to which he replied, "I work for quite a few companies on a contract basis. I am at your company to instruct you and keep you updated on new developments in the global economy." A few more explanations and swear words on economic theory and specific terms from her side later, Andrea had written down a summary of the report and thanked James for the effort and help. 

Two minutes later, she was back in the living room waving with the notes, grabbed her notebook, and started typing up the notes that Mary dictated her. When the summary was finished, she emailed it to Julian knowing that at the end of the day, he could have gotten it from any other person from the various other departments as well. Bastard, he is. 

On Monday, Mary and Andrea went to the office as usual, having spent most of the weekend writing and re-editing her article when a little red package on her table caught her eye. She opened it and found a Dictaphone tape with a neatly written post-it note attached to it saying 

"If you have to come late next time, please, do not forget to use attached device in order to save both of us heaps of time. The mental Economist." 

Andrea smiled and called her friend to tell her about it. Mary was more than excited about it than herself, reading into it that he wants to make a move on her – Andrea, on the contrary, saw it as a "piss-take" and was less excited.

Putting the phone down she set on writing James an e-mail:

James,

Thank you very much for the tape. I will try very hard to make use of it next time I should be forced to listen to anything vaguely related to economics. 

Andrea

A few minutes later the familiar 'ping' noise drew her attention to the new incoming e-mail. Two from Julian, her departmental boss, requesting more information on the progress of the briefings and yet another re-edit of her article, one from Mary with some rather Very-Fit-Men-Photos attached, and a poignant one from James saying:

Andrea,

It was my pleasure. Any else economy questions you need help with, please do not hesitate to contact me. That is what I am being paid for. By the way, making use of the tape would be wise indeed since your company paid for it.

James

Andrea had to smile as she thought that against Mary's predictions he was just doing his job. She got on with her work, which was taking the toll today. Her company was supplying articles for magazines with a focus on Politics, Economy and Social Issues and while Mary had the pleasure of flirting with all those hunky men on the phone using her language skills and translating information into English and articles into other languages, Andrea did what she was best at: research. At 2.00pm she got the e-mail that changed her life: Julian was finally happy with her article. She felt like hugging the world. She had not been at the company for too long and that article was the first one she researched and wrote all on her own. Andrea was quite pleased with herself.

She met Mary and a couple of other co-workers for a late lunch at a bistro where they all engaged in a vivid conversation on the latest office gossip – yet again. Of course, the question, she dreaded most came up as well, "How's your love life, Andrea?" She gulped and said, "Alright…just waiting for the right guy – the one who has a Jaguar, loves Fine Art and a good Sushi lunch." Although she did not really care about the office bitches she had lunch with, she also did not want to appear as a total loser. Bad enough that they were discussing diets all the time anyway she thought tucking into her green salad with Camembert cheese but discussing her love life was certainly not on the agenda. 

Shortly after the gossip died like a well in the desert, they set off to the office building again and Andrea was happy to be left alone in her office and get actually some work done.

Meanwhile, James was sitting in his company office about 15 minutes away from the office building where Andrea worked. He shook his head and smiled when he received the following e-mail:

James,

As it seems unavoidable to listen to yet another round of your economic abbreviations, terms, theories, threats, et cetera tomorrow, I will promise to use the 'company' tape. Never did a tape look sexier to me. Never.

Andrea

He liked her short, wicked e-mails, never missing the point of how much she really hated what he did and how bored she was. "At least she is honest," he thought. Thinking about it, he was sure she was the first of the women at the company he had met who did not try to flutter her eyelashes at him. James knew he was good looking, the average sort of guy the girls were after. He was 28 years old, stood 6'2", worked out on a regular basis which gave him a nice triangle shaped back, he had brown, straight, short hair which he wore in a messy sort of way, green eyes and would only be seen in fine suits at work. 

The next day Andrea arrived on time to the briefing – as a matter of fact she was five minutes early, just to show James that she could actually read her watch. James was sitting on the edge of his table going through his notes again when he heard the door being swung open. He was more than pleased to see Andrea standing there wearing black velvet trousers, a white blouse with ¾ sleeves and high heels. "Hey there, how are you doing?" he said smiling at her, to which she simply replied, "Doing good, thank you, how have you been?". They continued with their small talk until the rest of the bunch came in and everyone settled down on their tables. Andrea was waving with the Dictaphone at James who had to suppress a laugh. 

The meeting this time took an hour by the end of which Andrea was already shifting around from one side to the other on her chair, feeling bored and daydreaming away yet again. "After all, James was not so bad looking," she thought, "but then if every skirt is chasing him anyway, and I don't have the slimmest chance. Never mind, somewhere, someday…" When a distant voice addressed her, "Andrea… are you alright?" she blinked and looked at James who was standing infront of her looking a bit confused. She gave him a big yawn combined with a "Needacoffeedesperately" and staggered out of the already empty room. 

James followed her suit after he had collected his notes from the table tapping her on her shoulder when she just picked her cup of hot, steaming Java up and made her spill her coffee all over her top. "Great, man, thanx… just what I needed!" she hissed. "Ooooops," was the only thing that came to James' mind and he was clever enough not to try to clean Andrea's coffeed breasts with a paper towel. 

"Alright, what can I do for you, Sir?" she asked while she sat down on the table cleaning herself up. In his firm, routine presentation voice he said, "Want to go for a cup of coffee somewhere else? Or maybe a drink – tonight?", not giving the slightest hint of a tremble in his voice. 

Andrea, however, just sat there, starring at him, "Is this a social thing or a date?" The next second she felt like slapping herself for such a come-back.

"You decide… errrm…. Social thing… errmm, okay… a date. If you want to that is", he replied clearly not having expected such a return question.

"Me? Now? Is this something like an early April's fools day joke?", she asked nonplussed.

"You are on your lunch-break, aren't you? Am I keeping you from something right now?" he replied hesitantly.

"Eeerrmmm…not really… but you COULD have kept me from something. Okay, so who is behind all that? If it was Tina, tell her to go and bugger a pig."

"Tina?"

"You know, belt for a skirt, no hips, boobs, ass or brain but lots of peroxide on her head – in the Economics Department."

"Oh yes, her…", he said not quite knowing what to say. "So,… would you like to meet tonight somewhere?", he asked standing in front of her having gained his full confidence back.

"Yes, sure – but I thought the stock exchanges closes quite early."

He took a deep breath in, exhaled and repeated, "So,… would you like to meet tonight somewhere?"

She gave him a very wicked smile and said: "Sure James, but I thought the stock exchange would already be closed by 9.00." 

"Seriously, Andrea", he said with an honest voice

"Yes, seriously James. The stock exchange will be closed already. But if you want we can meet at 'Brogan's' at 9.00. Do you know where it is?"

He smiled and said, "Of course I know where it is – us Economists do go out and we do have a social life."

Walking out of the coffee room, James could hear Andrea hear laugh and muffle something into her coffee.


Against All Odds



The bar tender set the beer down in front of Ryan. He picked it up and stared pensively into the tall glass of gold liquid. He took a deep breath before his first sip, wondering what he was doing here. He spent a considerable amount of time in airport bars, usually passing time while waiting to board to a plane. However, this was the first time he had stopped in one after landing. The reason was simple: he wasn't ready to go home to his wife. 

Beyond that, it became quite complicated. Why? Because for the most part, he still loved her. But for all intents and purposes, they had basically been reduced to being nothing more than roommates. They never had much to say to one another, not that speaking risked argument or heated discussion; they simply had nothing to talk about. Their sex life had dried up a couple of years ago when they reached a point where they didn't really satisfy each other anymore; they kept it up, pretending for a while and then gradually found excuses not to do it that neither contested. Dinner was much the same; whomever arrived home first started preparing it, but one or the other always wanted to watch something on TV that the other did not while eating, and so, the odd man out dined alone in the kitchen. 

Ryan wondered how much longer they could or would continue to endure this absurd existence. He'd considered discussing it with her—and knew he should. But each time he endeavored to accomplish that, he either chickened out or something else conveniently prevented it. He often pondered whether his wife had similar thoughts or feelings. 

So lost in thought was he that he ignored the voice speaking to him until the person tapped him on the shoulder. Ryan turned sharply and was taken aback by the beautiful woman standing there. 

"I asked if this seat was taken?" she repeated. 

Ryan glanced at the empty barstool beside him, and then quickly scanned up and down the bar noticing that all others were taken. "Uh, no. Please." He gestured toward the vacancy. 

Reaching for his glass, Ryan took a healthy sip eyeing the woman as best he could with peripheral vision, but he really couldn't see her as well as he would like to; as well as he had in his initial glimpse when she was standing. He did not generally strike up conversations with people in airport lounges, particularly women, because many females seemed to think it a prelude to an attempted pick-up. However, when she ordered a beer with a German name he never heard of, without thinking, he asked about it. 

"It's actually a fairly new local beer," she reported. "The name is deceptive. It's really a gimmick to make people think it's imported." 

"Oh. I'll have to give it a try," Ryan said. 

She leaned closer offering him a glimpse down the top of her moderately low-cut dress as though to speak confidentially, "It's not really that good. The micro-brewery is my client, so when in public . . ." 

Ryan nodded his understanding and took another sip of his own beer. He expected there to be no more conversation. 

"Where are you off to?" she asked. 

"Home." 

"And where is that?" 

"Here." He lifted his glass. "Just needed a little fortification." 

She nodded once. "I think I understand." 

"You?" 

She snickered. "Well, you might not believe this, but it's the same with me." 

"Wow! The possibility of this has got to be against all odds." Ryan was not usually good with women, but there was something about this one. She had a nice easy-going style, she was quite engaging, and then there was her looks: simply ravishing. But he had to remind himself that people who struck up a conversation in an airport lounge were generally putting on a front. It wasn't who they really were. However, for now, the fantasy was nice for the brief amount of time it would last. 

"So, things are not good at home?" 

"No. You either, I take it." 

"Seems somewhere along the way we drifted apart. Not sure why we stay together." Lindsey was in public relations, and as such, was a pretty good judge of people. There was something genuine about this man, something she could probably get to like. But this was just a chance encounter in an airport lounge and she was not likely to ever see him again. 

The conversation had taken them through their first beer. Seeing her empty bottle, Ryan pointed to it, "Another?" 

"Only if you let me get the next round." 

With a nod, Ryan gestured to the bartender, pointing to their empty bottles. Two more beers quickly appeared before them. 

"Any idea when the beginning of the end was for you and her?" 

Amazed that she was continuing to make small talk, Ryan further realized that they would probably never see each other again, so what did it matter what they discussed? Plus, it was nice to chat with such an attractive woman. "Oh, for us it's been gradual, probably over the last couple or three years." 

"Wow, another coincidence. About the same for us." 

"Staggering odds." That was intended to be clever, not as flippant is it probably sounded. "I didn't mean that the way—" 

She waved him off. "No worries. By the way, I'm Lindsey." 

"Ryan." 

They shook hands. 

"So, what a do you do?" Ryan asked. "Advertising?" 

"Public relations, actually. And believe me, with this client—" Lindsey held up her beer bottle "—l earn every penny." 

Without thinking, Ryan reached out and took the bottle from her. He took a sip and instantly grimaced. "I see what you mean." He quickly summoned the bar tender, pointed to his glass and held up two fingers. She started to protest, but he interrupted her. "The bar is nearly empty. Your secret is safe." 

Glancing around, Lindsey confirmed Ryan's observation and shrugged. She picked up the glass that was just placed in front of her and drank. "Ah, Stella Artois. Very good." 

Ryan was impressed. "Wow! You really know your beer." 

Lindsey bowed her head in acknowledgment and then grinned. "Actually, it's my usual beer of choice." 

"The coincidences just keep piling up," Ryan noted. 

"And if you tell me you also work in public relations . . ." 

"Actually, I—" he paused for effect "—don't." Smirking over his drama, he said, "I work for a large health insurance company. Once a month, I travel to our various offices around the country to troubleshoot major claims." 

"That sounds—" 

"Boring as all hell," Ryan filled in for her. 

Lindsey chuckled. "Thanks for saving me from lying." 

He shrugged. "It pays well. Gets me out of the house periodically." 

"Know what you mean. I've really been enjoying traveling the last several months." 

"So, what is yours and your husband's story? What caused you to drift apart?" 

Lindsey's smile instantly disappeared. 

Ryan cursed himself for bringing it up. "I'm sorry. You don't have to answer that." 

Holding up her hand, she glanced around. She grabbed their drinks and carried them to an out-of-the-way table in the corner. Of course, Ryan followed. In those short few steps it occurred to him that he had never done anything like this in all his years of travel. He found it strangely exciting. 

Once seated, Lindsey leaned closer and almost whispered. "I wouldn't normally tell this to a complete stranger, particularly a man because of the implication—" 

"He's no good in bed," Ryan deduced. 

A seemingly shocked expression formed on her face, but it was really disbelief that he had guessed correctly. "How did you know?" 

"Sex is the root of most marital problems, but many other things get the blame." 

"That's profound. That your story too?" 

"It's a large part of it." 

"Well, I don't want to brag, but for the record, it's not me." 

Somewhat stunned, Ryan said, "I don't know how to respond to that." 

"Is it you?" 

"I'd like to think not." 

The bar tender appeared with two more glasses of beer. "Last call," he advised. "We close in twenty." 

"But we didn't order these," Ryan pointed out. 

"Just trying to help move you two along." 

"What do you suppose he meant by that?" Ryan posed after the bartender walked off. 

"I'm guessing he thinks one of us is trying to seduce the other," Lindsey surmised. 

"Well, for what it's worth, I wasn't," Ryan said defensively. "I've never done that." 

"Nor was I." 

Lapsing into silence, they finished the beers they were working on and started on the fresh ones. 

After a couple of minutes, Ryan couldn't help but say, "I won't lie, though. I have fantasized about it." 

"So, have I," Lindsey revealed. "Since I arrived?" 

"Maybe," he answered coyly. "How does your fantasy go?" 

"Well, that's rather personal," she said in mock seriousness. 

However, he took it literally. "We've been discussing nothing but personal things since we've been here. Besides, we'll probably never see each other again, so does it really matter?" 

She shrugged in deference. "Nothing fancy. I meet a man, not unlike how we met; we hit it off, not unlike we have; one thing leads to another, we end up in a hotel room and, of course, the sex is incredible." 

"Not very imaginative." 

"Then what's yours?" 

He chuckled. "Pretty much the same. But remember, I work in health insurance," he reiterated to substantiate his drab scenario. 

They both laughed and gulped more beer. 

"When are you expected home?" Lindsey asked. 

"I don't share my itinerary. Just tell her about when I'll be back." 

"Then let's do it." 

"Do what?" 

"Get that hotel room." 

"Are you serious?" 

"I don't know. I've had four beers," Lindsey noted, downing the remainder of the last one. "Let's prove to each other that it's not either one of us." 

"I think you are serious." 

"Does that scare you?" 

With a grimace, Ryan said, "A little. I've just never done anything like this before." 

"Do you want to? I mean, you said you've fantasized about doing something like this; wouldn't you like to see if reality is as good as fantasy?" 

Thinking about it for a second, he admitted, "I guess." 

"Then let's go." Lindsey stood and pulled him up and slipped her arm in his. He fumbled for his wallet and dropped several bills on the table, they grabbed their over nighters, and he allowed her to lead him out. 

"You have a car?" Ryan asked when they reached the entrance to the terminal. 

"Yes. Let's get our cars and meet at the hotel across the street," she suggested. She then grabbed his neck and pulled his head to her, pressing their lips together in an intense kiss. 

Ryan felt an instant hard-on grow in his pants in reaction to the amazing kiss. "What was that for?" 

"Enticement." 

"You thought I might chicken out?" 

Lindsey shrugged. "But for what it's worth, it prevented me from backing out." 

However, Ryan did question himself about what he was doing as he walked to his vehicle, got in and drove out of the parking garage. He tried to convince himself to just let it happen. But Lindsey had suddenly become aggressive, and by her own admission, she might have had too much to drink. Was he hooking up with a crazy woman? Quite possibly only the short drive across the street was not enough time for his analytical mind, a product of his occupation, to give proper consideration to what he was about to do. Even as he pulled into the hotel's parking lot he told himself he could just keep going, and as he walked into the lobby, he reminded himself that he could always turn around. And he started to do just that when he didn't see Lindsey. 

Still, he waited a minute to see if she appeared, wondering if this was all just a cruel joke . . . until the desk clerk approached him. 

"Mr. Artois?" 

Turning to the man, Ryan was, at first, taken aback by the name, and then he found himself nodding. 

"Ms. Stella is waiting in room 362." 

Ryan merely nodded, amused at her little ruse to protect their identities. "Thanks." 

"Those aren't really your names." It wasn't a question. 

"Does it really matter?" Ryan asked, walking off without waiting for an answer. 

A few minutes later, he knocked on the door to room 362. 

"You came," Lindsey said happily with a big smile. 

"You still didn't think I would?" he asked, feigning disbelief. "What would you have done if I hadn't?" 

"I was actually contemplating just spending the whole night here." She stepped out of her heels. 

"Now there's an idea." 

She moved aside, allowing him to enter, and then took a seat on the sofa. "Any thoughts on how we do this?" 

"Well I think we should keep our expectations low." 

With a jittery giggle, Lindsey agreed. "Probably a good idea. So, should we just talk until, you know . . ." 

"Are you absolutely certain about this?" 

"Well, yeah . . . I mean, I'm here. What do you mean?" 

Ryan also took a seat on the sofa, but turned to face Lindsey, amused that she now seemed to be the nervous one. "No offense or disrespect, but you said you drank a lot. Are you drunk? Is intoxication causing you to do this?" 

"Not at all. As I said—and so did you—I have fantasized about doing something like this. The truth is, you're the first man to come along that appealed to me." 

He nodded. Well, she was saying the right things. 

She also twisted toward him, the movement causing the hem of her dress to rise and reveal a great pair of thighs. It stirred something within him. Visions of how it was with his wife a long time ago flashed through his mind at light speed, and suddenly, he wanted that again. With no further thought, Ryan reached out and gently touched his hand to her knee. He enjoyed her softness. 

Even though she watched him do it, the contact was electric and Lindsey looked up sharply. A momentary frown easily changed into an appreciative smile. And she didn't stop him as his hand moved caressingly around her thigh. 

Ryan also noticed that her dress seemed to be hanging lower on her chest offering him a pleasant view of her sculpted cleavage. His contact with her leg seemed to be the icebreaker. Slowly, she leaned closer gazing longingly into his eyes until their lips came together once more. Their parting kiss at the airport was still fresh in his mind and he now savored the repeat. The coming together of their mouths was soft and tender, the kiss loving and not desperate. An imperceptible whimper emanated from her throat. 

Lindsey's hand had gone to Ryan's arm, and as the kiss escalated, she casually allowed it to drift lower until it came in contact with his leg. From there, it edged toward his crotch. A sigh accompanied her touch of his penis. She pulled back, her eyes roaming down to where her hand was. The outline of his cock in his pants brought a smile to her face. Her other hand traveled up his other leg and both paws danced across his bulge. 

Now, Ryan wanted to taste her lips again, this time with much more passion. This kiss was mesmerizing, nothing like he could remember sharing with his wife in a long time. The intensity—and feeling weak because of it—had Lindsey easing backward almost supine. To stay with her, Ryan leaned over on his side, his thighs stacked one atop the other. More out of convenience, she draped her leg over both of his, spreading her thighs. 

Feeling her leg on his was arousing, and he couldn't help running his hand down her thigh. She gasped when his fingers touched her panty-covered pussy. Mistaking her response, Ryan instantly withdrew his hand. But a sound of disappointment in her voice followed. However, instead of replacing his hand, his palm found her rounded breast, his fingertips touching the very soft bare skin of the top that was pushed out of her dress. 

Again, Lindsey moaned her pleasure. She jammed her hand in her dress and pulled her tit out of the cup of her bra and dress exposing her nipple. His lips and tongue immediately latched on. 

Ryan could now feel his cock seriously leaking pre-cum and it felt fantastic. He hadn't sucked tits in a long, long time and he had forgotten how much he enjoyed it. So did she, if her moans were any clue. However, she quickly stopped him, sat up and removed her top, her nipple still peeking over the rim of the cup of her bra. 

Before he could make any further move, she sat up, her skirt nearly rising to her crotch, and said through heavy breathing. "Let's move to the bed." 

Ryan willingly and eagerly followed. 

The level of Lindsey's stimulation manifested itself when she ripped off the comforter and sheets and stuffed them on the side of the bed nearest the wall, and then laid down rapidly pushing her panties down and off. She taunted him with a wicked grin and spread legs. 

Her exposed, shaved pussy was the most beautiful sight he had seen a long time. The slight parting of her pussy lips revealed glistening moisture, beckoning him. He literally dove on it. She threw her head back joyously when his tongue took its first swipe and he devoured her vagina like the sex-starved man he was. Her secretions were the most satisfying nectar he had ever tasted. His tongue danced over every part of her womanhood that it could, frequently darting in and out of her tunnel of love.  

He felt her hand on the top of his head pressing his face as deeply into her inner section as it could get. Naturally, moans, cries and whimpers accompanied her squirming. After only a minute or so, the sounds subsided and her movement relaxed. Ryan believed she had an orgasm, but it had been so long since he had experienced a woman climaxing that he couldn't be certain. He kissed her inner thighs and looked up to see a huge smile on her face. She pulled on his head to draw him up for a kiss, having no qualms about her juices coating his lips. 

She kissed with the hunger of a deprived woman. So famished was she that she could not focus on one thing for very long; as if she didn't keeping it moving, it would all suddenly disappear. So, with that, she pushed up to a kneeling position where she deftly undid his belt, pants and zipper, sliding his pants down only far enough for his swollen cock to spring free. Before it even stopped flopping, she had it in her mouth. Ryan expected her to suck it with a ferocity that might take skin off, but surprisingly and satisfyingly, she took it slowly, savoring it. 

Ryan nearly became lightheaded from the incredible feeling of having his cock in a woman's mouth. Even during their active sex years, his wife had rarely performed fellatio on him. It didn't really matter whether Lindsey was good or not, she was doing it. And that made it good. 

Looking down on her back, Ryan impulsively reach out and unclasped her bra. The straps automatically fell down her arms; she lifted one hand and then the other to get it out of her way. 

The longer she sucked him, the more intense it became. He feared that if he allowed her to continue, he would come too quickly, and then he would be of no further use to her. He pulled her head up, mashing their lips and driving his tongue into her mouth. She responded in kind, allowing their tongues to explore. Her fist was still wrapped around his shaft, and feeling it constantly pulsing from their heated mouth action, Lindsey couldn't wait any longer. 

She rolled him onto his back, yanked his pants and underwear off, straddled his thighs and fed his angry cock into her yearning pussy. Her vagina sucked him in. She rode him fast and he matched her strokes until she pivoted her hips back and forth. Fortunately, he was big enough that she could feel her vaginal walls close tightly around his rod, caressing it. 

Thankfully for him, he felt he was big enough that the grasp her pussy had on his cock was tight enough to let him know he was her first in quite some time. And that was a heady feeling. 

Lindsey's continued lack of focus had her hopping off of him, switching to hands and knees and shaking her rear at him. He was behind her fucking her doggy-style in seconds. This was another act that Ryan and his wife had seldom done and he was amazed at how totally different the inside of her pussy felt in this position—but certainly no less enjoyable. 




Against All Odds



Lindsey knew she was moving fast on him, but she also was aware that their time together was short and that an opportunity like this might not come along for quite some time, so she wanted to get as much in as possible. She couldn't possibly know that she was having the same thoughts as her lover in that the two positions they had been in felt so different, yet so much the same and equally as good. "Harder," she whispered. "Really fuck me." 

And so he did, pounding her so hard that she couldn't hold herself up and she collapsed flat on her belly. However, he stayed with her, straddling her thighs, making her even tighter than any other position. It was magnificent. 

It was then that she began to have frightening thoughts that it had been so long since she'd had an orgasm—a real climax, not the mini one she'd had earlier—that she feared not being able to have one; particularly considering that she'd faked it with her husband so many times. She did recall that the few times she had come had been in the old tried and true missionary position so she maneuvered them into that posture. 

As he re-entered her, Ryan smiled at her to let her know he liked this also, and as such he fucked her slowly. She pulled his head to hers and they kissed, bringing meaning and sensuality to their act. To her great relief and satisfaction, she felt her orgasm building just as slowly until it completely took over her body. Every nerve and muscle tensed with a pleasure she was not sure she had ever known. It was the grandest experience of her life. And it didn't just end; it let her down just as slowly as it had grown. 

So stunned was Lindsey, she hadn't realized that Ryan had pulled out of her. But she was instantly cognizant of the fact that he hadn't come yet. She reached for his cock and started jerking him, but he halted her. "Relax for a few minutes," he whispered, smiling warmly. 

"But, you—" 

"We'll get there," Ryan remarked as he eased off of her and sat against the headboard. 

"I'm sorry," Lindsey said. "Did I not do something to get you off?" 

"You were fine. Everything we did was great. Just letting you enjoy the after effects of your orgasm for a minute before we get into it again." 

She sat also, eyes wide and smiling. "I like the sound of that." She maneuvered herself between his spread legs leaning against his chest. "And you're right. Everything we've done so far has been great. It's really nice to be wanted and needed." 

"It is." Ryan kissed her neck and nibbled on her ear. 

Giggling, Lindsey purred, "Mmmm, that feels nice." 

He wrapped his arm around her, cupping her breast. She put her palm on top of his and pressed it to her. As he fondled her tit, he rested his other hand on her hip. With her other hand she pulled his around, aiming it at her pussy. He got the message and played with her snatch with his fingers. 

"Oh, yesss," Lindsey murmured. She leaned all the way forward, presenting her rear to him. "Kiss my ass," she snickered, then added, "I mean that in a good way." 

He readily complied, both kissing and tonguing her anus and pussy. He was actually enjoying the feast so much, he turned her onto her back with her legs up in the air and went back to licking her. 

"Oh, you're good," she moaned. 

So, he moved up to suck her nipples. 

Lindsey allowed it for a minute, and then spread her legs, reached for his cock and guided it back into her pussy. She lifted her legs and rubbed his nipples with her toes. 

That was definitely a first for him. It was a nice touch, but he was concentrating heavily on coming, his mind enjoying everything his dick was feeling inside of her. The sight of her breasts swishing backwards and forwards from his thrusts was also stimulating, but just looking down at her beautiful body and the lust-filled look in her eyes and the awareness that she was allowing him to fuck her for all he was worth had him climaxing. He quickly pulled out of her and jerked himself a couple of times to finish himself off. He shot a goodly amount of pearly white semen all over her abdomen. And what added to the incredible feeling of orgasm was the big smile on her face, which he took as happiness that he came. 

Some of his cum had dribbled down his shaft, and feeling wicked, she gestured for him to come to her. He did by knee-walking. When he was close enough, she grabbed his cock and pulled on it, guiding him to her mouth where she licked off the excess. That caused a few more drops to spurt out. 

"Mmmm. I haven't tasted that in a while. Yummy!" 

Ryan fell onto his side, still hard, much to his surprise. 

Seeing that, Lindsey said, "Quick. Stick it back in." 

Still on his side, Ryan squirmed down a bit to enter her from his current position. She actually did all the moving front to back and around, and then she pushed him onto his back, sitting on top of him without letting his cock out of her. She bounced on him and bent down to kiss him. 

Their sex was as urgent—maybe more so—as before she had her orgasm, and it was as though they needed to do it as many different ways as they could. She got back on hands and knees and had him do her doggy-style. He plowed her so hard, she came again burying her face in a pillow to scream and yell. It was so intense and so exciting, he surprised himself by coming again also; not as spectacularly as before, but he'd never had two orgasms in one session. He spurted a few measly drops on her back and she again turned around and licked him clean. 

"Wow! I've never come twice in one night!" Lindsey marveled. 

"Neither have I," Ryan revealed. 

"You wanna spend the night? Maybe we'll wake up in a while get lucky again." 

Ryan turned to look at her, the zest in her eyes more than apparent. It was a tempting proposition, and while their time together had been amazing, it seemed that more of it would only lead to trouble. He had never done anything like this before, it had been enjoyable, but as he was still a bit nervous about cheating on his wife even given the estranged nature of their marriage, it was time to move on. 

"And I can see by your expression that it's not going to happen," Lindsey deduced. 

Slipping out of bed, Ryan remarked, "It was great. Don't want to get greedy." He started dressing. 

Lindsey shrugged and followed suit. 

They met at the door. She held out her business card. 

"Another time?" she asked. 

"This was great, but I'm not sure I want to get involved in an affair." 

"What would be wrong with that?" she wanted to know. 

"So we sneak around and try to steal a couple of hours here and there so we can have a quick fuck. It'll be fun at first having all the sex we've been missing. And then, it'll become a chore or one of us will get tired or no longer satisfy the other. We'll grow to hate each other." 

Lindsey grinned. "It'll be fun as long as it lasts." When he didn't smile, she went on, "Okay. Bad joke. But that's not the only possible scenario. We could fall madly in love, give each other the courage to leave our spouses, get married and live happily ever after." 

"Which begs the question why neither of us has left our spouse yet." He shrugged. "I don't have a good answer." 

"Sometimes, it's difficult to decide whether it's safer to cling to a sinking ship or swim away." 

"I guess neither of us are good swimmers." 

"When is your next trip?" Lindsey asked, changing tack. 

"Three weeks." 

"So, you'll be back here exactly four weeks from tonight?" 

Thinking about that for a second, he answered, "Yes." 

"Then how about this. Use that time to decide if this was an impulse or something with possibility. If it's the latter, I'll meet you here in this hotel's lounge exactly four weeks from tonight. If you don't show, I'll know it was just an impulse." 

"Fair enough." 

Lindsey leaned over and kissed him, glimpsing his full name on his luggage tag. 

Ryan wasn't certain whether he would show up in four weeks. Collecting his own bag, and having caught her name when she flashed her business card, he stepped into the hallway. "Oh, shit!" 

* * * 

At about the same time Ryan and Lindsey met at the airport: 

"Excuse me, but do know anything about wines?" Logan asked the woman studying various bottles of reds. 

Isabella turned to face the man who intruded on her thoughts. She shrugged, "I have a fair knowledge." 

"I don't. I generally drink the same couple of brands. I'm just looking for something different." Initiating contact with the woman had been purely innocent, his inquiry genuine. Logan now noticed that she was quite attractive with long, flowing reddish-brown hair, shapely frame, nice legs and breasts. 

"—are your couple of brands?" she was asking. 

Catching himself from staring, Logan said, "Kendall Jackson and Chateau Ste. Michelle." 

Isabella nodded. "Okay. Pretty good stuff, mainstream, pretty common." She saw him stealing a look at her. She wondered if his request for advice was merely a prelude to a seduction. On the other hand, it was nice to have a man notice her; a handsome man at that. "Cabernet? Merlot?" 

"Actually, red blends." 

"Price range?" 

He shrugged. "Not cheap, but not real expensive either." 

"Special occasion? Trying to impress someone?" 

"Neither. Just something good to drink." 

Isabella smiled, judging the man's inquiry to be honest. "These are all Orin Swift wines." She gestured to a row of bottles with comical names and interesting labels. "All blends. All good. Pricey, but not hugely expensive." 

Logan read a couple. "The Prisoner. Machete. Papillon. Abstract." He smirked. "The man has a sense of humor." 

"The names and labels are just as unique as their wines," Isabella reported. "And it's not really a person's name, just the name of the winery." 

"Which do you recommend?" 

She shrugged. "Too difficult to choose. You just have to pick one and try it, or two. Or go down the street. There's a nice wine bar that serves some of them by the glass." 

"That sounds intriguing," Logan mused. And then, he impulsively added, "Would you join me?" 

She held up her hand displaying her wedding band. 

He did exactly the same. "Just a glass or two of wine. Nothing more." At least, he meant it at the time he said it. 

Isabella was at something of a loss. She'd never had this happen: meeting a total male stranger—in the grocery store, no less—and being asked to go have a drink. She knew she was fairly attractive; she worked hard to keep herself looking good, even despite the lack of attention she received from her husband. It made Isabella wonder, if she had been more homely, would he have still asked? He seemed like a nice man; certainly handsome enough, but not the kind of looks of someone who might be full of himself. Strangely, she really kind of wanted to accept . . . but did she dare? 

"I'm sorry," Logan said, interrupting her thoughts. "It was an impulse to ask that. Don't know what made me think that you would agree to something like that from a stranger." 

Now, that was a very polite thing for him to tell her. Either he was genuine, or a very smooth talker. She wanted to believe the former, and decided to take the chance. Besides, it was a public place. "I just need to check out. Meet you there in fifteen minutes?" 

"I'll get a table and order," Logan said, suddenly nervous that she had accepted. "W-Which wine should I start with?" 

Isabella offered him a very warm smile. "Surprise me." 

"By the way, I'm Logan." 

"Isabella." 

"See you shortly." 

Isabella walked off, seriously questioning what she had just done. She put back the couple of perishable items in her basket and headed for the check-out, a sudden rush of excitement coming over her. 

Logan entered the wine bar apprehensively. He wasn't usually impulsive, but he found himself strangely attracted to Isabella. Of course, he didn't expect anything to happen beyond having a glass of wine—after all, she was married. And he didn't think he could even go through with anything should there even be the remotest possibility of something happening. Even though his marriage was failing, and had been for some time, pursuing another woman had never occurred to him. Why now? 

His nervousness caused him to remember only one of the wines: Machete. So, he ordered two glasses. The wine bar was small, and then only about half the tables were occupied, so the two glasses of the dark red blend were served quickly. For fortification, Logan took a healthy sip, not the least bit surprised that it tasted as good as it did; way better than what he usually drank. He was further pleased that Isabella hadn't steered him wrong. 

When he put the glass down, she was standing there. 

"You caught me," he said. "Couldn't wait to try it." He slipped off of his stool to pull hers out for her. 

Impressed by his gentlemanly attention, Isabella asked, "I wouldn't have either." Once seated, she took a sip. "Ah, Machete. What do you think?" 

"Delicious. You do really know wines." 

"I said I had a fair knowledge," Isabella reminded, and then smirked. 

Logan frowned when she grinned. 

"Actually, I saw the bartender re-corking the bottle and took a chance." 

They both laughed, breaking the ice. 

Isabella lifted her glass, they toasted and each took a sip. 

"I have to admit, I've never done anything like this before," Logan revealed. 

"Nor have I," Isabella said. After another sip, she asked, "So, why now?" 

"You really did seem to know wines and I was actually looking for something new to try." He also took another sip. "Why did you accept?" 

"Truthfully, other than talking about these wines made me want a glass, I really don't know." She couldn't tell him it was because he was staring at her and she thought he was handsome. 

"So are you one of those people who can taste all kinds of different berries and other flavors in a wine?" 

"No, my taste buds are not that sophisticated," Isabella admitted. 

"Then how do you determine if it's a good wine?" 

"Very simple. You pour a glass, drink it, and if you like the way it tastes, it's a good wine." 

"Well, that's a very . . . simple . . . approach." 

"A group of my friends and I used to have a wine tasting club. We would choose three bottles of a specific varietal in three different price ranges: inexpensive, moderate and expensive. One person would host the tasting and wrap the three bottles so that the others would not know which was which. We would then taste the wine and rate them. The most expensive wasn't always everyone's favorite. It just proved that if you like the taste of the wine, it's a good wine." 

Another pause for each to take a sip had Logan finishing his glass since he'd had a head start. Without waiting, he slipped off of his stool, and as he headed to the bar, he glimpsed Isabella's shapely legs, her dress having ridden high on her thighs. He actually felt a stirring in his crotch and was surprised by it from just her legs. Had it really been that long for him? He didn't achieve a full erection, but enough to make a noticeable and embarrassing bulge in his pants. He was able to adjust himself at the bar while the bartender poured two more glasses of wine, but he still moved quickly back to the table to limit being discovered. 

However, Logan did not notice that Isabella did. She didn't have to turn much to see him go to the bar, but what held her attention was when he reached down and grabbed himself, obviously relocating his penis. A sudden hot flash came over her as the realization that she might be the cause of his "stiffness" occurred to her. Glancing down, she saw that her dress was around mid-thigh and she was showing a considerable amount of leg. Isabella shunned the notion that the sight of her legs had done that to him. Still, suddenly feeling wicked, she did not tug her hem down when he returned, but wondered what had come over her. Was it wrong to have a little fantasy? 

Isabella had finished her first glass by the time Logan climbed back onto his stool. On an empty stomach, she began to feel the effects of the alcohol rather quickly, thus heightening the little fantasy playing out in her mind. She quickly sipped the fresh glass. It was delightful, not the same as the first glass, and at this point, it really didn't matter which it was. 

Likewise, the first glass and Isabella's legs caused Logan to take a different view of this gathering. "Know which one this is?" he asked to make more small talk and avoid the thoughts he was having. He swallowed a mouthful of wine. 

"Aside from the fact that it's not the same, no." She really didn't care. 

"The Prisoner." 

"Which do you like best?" Isabella felt she needed to ask. 

"Both good. After only one glass and one sip, though, it's too soon to make a comparison. You?" 

"You're right. Guess we'll just have to keep drinking." Isabella offered her most alluring smile. 

Logan wasn't expecting such an answer, but it was her smile that got him, not to mention the vision of her legs still in his mind. He had a full hard-on now and it was beginning to ache, not just because it had limited space inside his pants, but it was yearning for something he hadn't had in some time, and suddenly, he really wanted it from the woman sitting across from him. 

Logan's slight squirm did not escape Isabella's attention. If the wine and the bulge in his pants weren't stimulation enough, the notion that she was having an effect on him was having an effect on her. She couldn't remember the last time a man had responded to her as she presumed Logan was. Certainly, it hadn't happened with her husband in a long time. "So, what else can we talk about?" 

He shrugged. 

"Your wife? What does she do?" 

"Don't really want to talk about her," Logan said with a grimace. 

"Things not good at home?" 

"We actually make good roommates and not much more." 

"Really?" Isabella asked with surprise. "That's about where my husband and I are." 

Eyebrows shooting up, Logan said, "No kidding?" 

"Yeah. We connecting must go against all odds." 

"Pretty amazing. How long has yours been like that?" 

"I don't know," Isabella said with a shrug and a healthy sip of wine. "It's been gradual over the past few years." 

"So has mine," Logan revealed taking an equally healthy gulp. "I guess some people just drift apart over time." 

"I guess." 

"Do you need to talk about it since you have someone sort of in the same boat?" 

"Nothing really to talk about," Isabella said. "We get along. We don't fight. We just . . . don't do anything else." 

"Wow. That's us also." Logan couldn't help asking, "Is sex included in the don't do anything else, if I'm not being too personal?" 

With two-thirds of her second glass of wine gone, and the subject turning to sex, Isabella could care less about being too personal. "Yes. Truthfully, it's been a while. You?" 

"Still in the same boat." 

"It's difficult, isn't it?" 

"Most certainly is." 

Staring at each other, the two each downed the remainder of their second glass, and then just stared at each other. 

"Shall we have another glass?" Isabella asked, liking the way the wine was making her feel and the accompanying thoughts. 

Logan didn't answer right away, debating whether to say what he wanted to. Finally, he took a deep breath and said, "When I invited you here and said it was just for a couple of glasses of wine, I was being honest. But now, after being with you for a brief time and revealing what we've revealed, I would like to buy a bottle of wine—or two—and go somewhere that we can enjoy the wine . . . and each other." 

Now, it was Isabella's turn not to immediately answer. But she wasn't being coy, she just didn't want to sound as eager as she was. "And by enjoy each other, you mean sex?" 




Against All Odds



"I mean," Logan clarified, "I've never met another woman with whom I have been so instantly captivated, and I would really like to spend more time with you—regardless how we occupy the time. Sex would be icing on the cake." 

"And where would we go?" 

"I think a hotel would be the most private place." 

Isabella feigned thinking for a few seconds, again so she wouldn't appear too anxious. "Okay," she finally and slowly answered. "But not in this part of town. Not near where we live. I assume since you were in a grocery up the street, you live around here, as well." 

"I'm close enough. And that's a good idea. I know just where to go." 

They decided to take separate cars so they could go their own ways afterward. 

Logan stopped and bought the wine, secured a room and was uncorking the bottle when Isabella arrived. He quickly poured her wine in a hotel room glass and handed it to her. Once he had his, he turned to her with a questioning look. The problem was, he really didn't know where to start. Should he make the first move—assuming he had the nerve to do so—or should he let her—assuming she was inclined to do so? 

After a few moments and a couple of bolstering sips, Isabella commented, "I'm going to take a chance and guess that neither of us knows how to start this." 

"Well, we have established that neither of us has done this in a while—and certainly not with anyone other than our spouses." 

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Isabella admitted, "And I don't know about you, but I'm a bit nervous." 

"I am, too. So, maybe we should take our time." 

"Yes. That's a good idea. You're very pleasant to be around." 

"As are you. Even though I didn't plan, or even expect, us to end up here, when we first spoke in the grocery, I had a sense that I wanted to be closer to you. And when you told me about the wine bar—" 

"I admit that my motive went beyond just wanting a glass of wine." 

They both chuckled. 

"You really are a very beautiful woman," Logan honestly told her. "It's hard to believe you and your husband have drifted apart." He reached out and touched several strands of her hair. 

"Sometimes, it is for me also . . . as I'm sure it is with you and your wife." 

"Mmmm-hmmm." But he really didn't want to think about his wife just now. He hadn't let go of her hair, but now gently allowed his hand to embrace her neck as he leaned in. 

When he was in reach, Isabella placed her hand on his arm of the hand touching her. His other hand cupped her other shoulder. Gradually, their lips came together. It began as a basic kiss, but with surprising quickness, their mouths opened and their tongues came together; just soft licking and exploring. As the kiss continued, Isabella eased downward until she was on her back, uncertain whether it was of her own doing or pressure from Logan or a combination, but it really didn't matter. 

For being out of practice, Isabella decided that Logan was a good kisser. What she couldn't know was that he was having the same thoughts about her. He let his lips travel down her neck bestowing little pecks along the way. She loved that attention, as her heavy breathing attested. Taking his head in both of her hands, she pulled their faces back together. A hunger was being satisfied, a thirst quenched. As he returned to kissing her neck, she kicked off her shoes. 

"This is nice," Isabella whispered. 

"Yes, it is," Logan readily agreed. 

The passion of what they were doing escalated and Logan couldn't help but have his hand explore her leg, hips and side. Her blouse gradually came out of her skirt and his lips were drawn to the exposed expanse of midriff. It tickled her and she giggled slightly, which caused him to return mouth to mouth. He pulled her to a sitting position, his hand now on her bare side pushing her shirt up. She halted their kiss to lift her top over her head with his assistance. Above the waist, she was now clad only in a lacy red bra. However, when his lips had to explore the uncovered parts of her breasts, she couldn't resist laying back down. 

Once again Isabella grabbed his head, but only to keep his face pressed into her cleavage. She remembered loving foreplay. He pulled her bra straps off of her shoulders to reveal more skin, but after only a few kisses to the new flesh, he quickly reached around and, surprised by his own adroitness, unclasped her bra and completely removed it. 

Logan was in awe of her beautiful breasts. He couldn't help fondling them, and of course, applying his lips to her pointed nipples. 

Reaching a state of arousal she had not achieved in a long time, Isabella involuntarily let her legs spread, which dragged the hem of her skirt up to her crotch. Like a magnet his hand was drawn between her legs where he tenderly caressed her inner section. Yet, with only brief touches from him, she was ready for her skirt to come off. She pushed it down, he tugged it off. Her red bikini panties matched her bra. 

A brief chuckle escaped Logan's lips. 

"What?" Isabella asked. 

"I guess I wasn't expecting you to be in such sexy undergarments." 

"Makes me feel good to wear them." 

Nodding, Logan remarked, "Makes me feel good to see you in them." 

Playfully, she rebuked, "Makes you feel good? That's all?" 

With a mischievous smile, Logan said, "You'll see how good very soon." 

And with that, he kissed his way up her exposed thighs to her slightly moist crotch and pulled her panties down and off. He had become too desperate from her womanly scent between her legs to spend time with her pussy covered. He wasted no time in honing in his tongue. When it made contact, it was electric for both of them. Isabella gasped and Logan moaned. He didn't need the reminder, but he'd nearly forgotten how much he loved the taste of pussy. He slurped it like the famished man he was. 

For Isabella, she felt as though she could lose her mind it felt so good. She couldn't remember the last time her husband had gone down on her. She relished the tongue devouring her snatch. After a minute or so, she pulled Logan up to kiss his lips and taste herself on them, but also to fiddle with his belt, pants and zipper. When she had them all undone, he stepped back, removed his shirt and stepped out of his pants. 

"Don't stop there," Isabella urged. 

And then down went his drawers. 

She had never been much of one for fellatio. She didn't mind doing it, but had done it more for her husband's benefit than any enjoyment for herself. However, by now, she was in such a high state of arousal that she grabbed Logan's respectable cock, pulling it to her and jamming it into her mouth. She was somewhat oblivious to his hands on her breasts and pussy because she was so overwhelmed and unusually thrilled to have his delicious dick in her mouth. Why had she never been so eager with her husband? 

Logan thought his knees would buckle when Isabella's mouth engulfed his desperate cock. He hadn't been sucked in a long time and it was divine; particularly with the eagerness with which she was attacking him. His fear was that as horny as he had become in the few minutes since they had started, he didn't want to blow his wad early on and not be able to continue. So, he pulled away and eased onto the bed beside her, again latching onto her erect nipples. 

They kissed again, but then Isabella rolled Logan onto his back. It seemed what he didn't want her to do, she wanted to do. 

For some strange reason, Isabella really wanted to suck cock. To some extent, it made her feel powerful having a dick in her mouth, or maybe it just fit her mouth better than her husband's . . . but regardless, the contented expression on his face said it all. As nice as it felt in her mouth, she imagined how wonderful it would feel in her pussy, and instantly realized she didn't need to wait to find out. She kissed a trail up his abdomen and chest, to his neck and lips, and then she reached down to grab hold of his pulsing penis and quickly inserted it into her long waiting pussy. 

The couple moaned their delight in unison, individually thinking that it had been far too long. He pumped and she bounced awkwardly until they quickly achieved a rhythm. Isabella wrapped her arms around Logan's head and held it tightly against her breasts as both continued to pump furiously. She was holding his head at such an angle that he had to sit up with her in his lap. It made thrusting difficult so they kissed again—something they had now become quite adept at. 

The force with which Logan kissed caused Isabella to fall backward and they ended up in the missionary position where he resumed drilling her. He pulled her right leg straight up against his chest, but just as quickly, he moved it back down and bent over to kiss her again. He loved to kiss while fucking—at least from what he could remember. 

And Isabella began to feel differently. Uncertain at first what it was, she gradually realized it was the beginning of an orgasm. Her nerves began to tingle, her breathing quickened and then it took over. 

Fortunately for Logan, he remembered enough to recognize that Isabella was about to climax. Fearing he would come also and ruin it for her, he quickly slid down to finish her off with his mouth. She squirmed and yelled and shook and whimpered and tensed, and with a final roar, exploded with pleasure the likes of which she could never remember having—whether she ever had or not mattered little. She broke into a sweat as her body continued to tremble in orgasmic delight. It took several minutes for her body to relax and settle down, her breathing to return to somewhat normal. She felt weak and unable to move. 

However, Isabella felt her body being turned onto her side and Logan moving in behind her. He lifted her upper leg and shoved his cock back into her pussy. When he started thrusting, she thought, yes, he still needed to come. He plowed her forcefully hoping he wasn't hurting her but he desperately needed relief, although he wasn't certain he could come it had been so long. But just as quickly, he felt a vaguely familiar churning in his balls and before he knew it, he was pulling out and spraying her abdomen with an amazing amount of his pearly white liquid—and it felt marvelous. There was nothing like an orgasm! 

Looking down at all the semen dripping down her abdomen, Isabella was amazed. She couldn't remember her husband ever coming on her. She was on the pill so he always came inside. She could have let Logan come inside her, would have—that might have made her climax all the sweeter—but he pulled out and came quickly. Although, it was probably just as well, what with them being strangers. Still, she rubbed her finger in the goo on her skin and giggled. "Wow! That was fantastic!" Isabella finally said. 

"You'll get no argument from me." 

After several minutes of silence, having reached for her glass of wine on the night table, Isabella reflected after a couple of quick sips, "I can't believe we just did this." 

"That we had such great sex?" 

"That we met in a grocery store and ended up in a hotel room." 

"Do you regret it?" 

"Not at all. It's just so unbelievable that I did this." 

"Well, forgive me, but I'm not the least bit sorry or disappointed." 

"Nor am I." 

Logan arose and fetched them towels from the bathroom. Along the way he found his glass and the bottle of wine and topped off their glasses. They sipped in silence a while longer. 

"We should start our own wine and dessert tasting club," Logan finally said. 

"Wine and dessert?" Isabella asked. 

Holding up his cup, Logan clarified, "Wine—" he gestured to the bed "—and dessert." 

Understanding his meaning, Isabella asked, "So, you'd like to do this again?" 

"I would." 

"So, this would be a very limited membership club." 

"I think we have everyone we need right here," Logan answered with a smirk. 

Easing out of bed and slipping her panties back on, Isabella said, "And when would the club meet?" 

"Same time next week?" 

"Here?" 

"Good a place as any." 

Isabella considered his proposal while she dressed. Did she really want to engage in an extra-marital affair? Tonight was an impulse. Next week would be premeditated. And where would it go from there? Was she really ready to give up on her marriage? Too many questions to consider and answer in such a short time. But she did have a response. "If I show up, I'm in. If you don't see me, then tonight was fun, but an impulse." 

"Fair enough. I guess the same goes for me." 

They engaged in a brief goodbye kiss, and then Isabella opened the door and exited. 

Before it even closed, Logan heard: "Oh, shit!" 

* * * 

"What the hell are you doing here?" Ryan asked upon seeing his wife step out of the next hotel room. 

"What the hell are you doing here?" Isabella shot back witnessing her husband exiting the adjoining room. 

Logan had been right behind Isabella, and upon hearing the commotion, entered the hallway to see a man facing them. 

Lindsey also came out to see what was going on. "Logan, why are you—" 

To which Logan countered, "Lindsey? What's going on?" 

"You know him?" Ryan asked. 

"You know her?" Lindsey demanded. 

"That's my wife," Logan admitted. "Could he be—" 

"My husband," Isabella confirmed. 

Logan considered the situation for a few seconds and then started laughing. 

"What's funny?" his wife wanted to know. 

"You're cheating on me with the husband of the woman I'm cheating on you with. It's hysterical." 

Isabella cast him a strange, questioning look for a second, and then suddenly started giggling. "It is kind of funny." 

Ryan didn't actually laugh, but he did remark, "Now, something like this happening has to be against all odds." 

From behind a door on the other side of the hall in between their two rooms a male voice called out, "This is a hotel. Some people actually come here to sleep." 

That took all four aback with both surprised and embarrassed expressions. Lindsey signaled her husband and Isabella into the room she and Ryan had emerged from. 

The two women regarded one another coldly for a few seconds. 

"I'm Lindsey." 

"Isabella." 

Following suit, the men introduced each other. 

After several more seconds of staring, calming down, Lindsey finally pointed out, "Well, we're all guilty of the same thing so there's no reason for anyone to be angry." 

None of the others commented, but expressions and some nods amounted to agreement. 

"Was he any good?" Lindsey had to ask. 

Somewhat disarmed by the odd question, after skipping a beat, Isabella said, "Yes." Then she quickly added, "Was he?" 

"Very good." 

"I guess we were blind to each other's needs," Isabella said to her husband. 

"I think we started to drift apart and found it easier to just let go instead of attempting to reel each other back in," Ryan diagnosed. 

"Is that what happened to us?" Lindsey asked. 

"That's as good an explanation as any," Logan agreed. 

"Ryan, how long have you and Lindsey been knowing each other?" Isabella asked. 

It was a sterile question, but Ryan heard the implication. "We just met tonight in the airport lounge." 

"And you had a few drinks and then decided to get a room." It was a speculation rather than a question. 

"Something like that. What about you and Logan?" 

Isabella described their meeting as briefly as possible: "He asked my opinion about wine at the grocery, we talked, we went to a wine bar, and like you, here we are." 

Nodding his head, Ryan said, "I could use a glass of wine about now." 

"I actually still have a couple of bottles in the other room," Logan mentioned. "We could probably all use a drink right now. I'll get them." 

"So, whose idea was it to get a room?" Isabella wanted to know. 

"Does it really matter?" Ryan shot back. "We ended up here, as did you and Logan. Or if you really need an answer, we can just say it was mutual." 

"No, you're right," Isabella conceded. "It doesn't really matter." 

Logan returned, opened a bottle of wine, and used the four glasses that came with the room. 

Lindsey had taken a seat on the edge of the bed. Logan decided it would be safer to sit in the desk chair, leaving the sofa for the other couple. Ryan and Isabella sat at opposite ends of the couch. 

Obviously, it was an awkward situation at best as the four uncomfortably sipped their wine. 

"So, is there really a reason were sitting here?" Isabella asked. 

"Why?" asked Lindsey. "Would you like to go back to your room with my husband?" 

"What the hell kind of question is that?" Isabella demanded. There was a hint of hostility in her voice. 

"Well, you said he was good. Maybe you'd like more of him." 

"That must mean you want to stay here with mine," Isabella countered. 

"I won't deny that I enjoyed it. And truthfully, thinking about it makes me a little horny." 

The two men glanced at one another, each fearful that their wives might get into it. 

"Well, don't let me stop you," Isabella prodded. 

"Might just," Lindsey taunted. "But the truth is, if Logan was so good, I'd like to see that." 

"See what?" Isabella questioned. 

"I like to see the two of you together." 

Now, the two men were really becoming nervous. 

"You want to watch your husband and I have sex?" Isabella asked with incredulity. 

"Yes." 

"Seriously?" 

"Yes." 

"Why?" 

"I want to see how good he is," Lindsey repeated. "It's not like I don't know you and he fucked." 

Shaking her head in stupefaction, Isabella turned to her husband. "You're not saying anything." 

With a shrug of embarrassment, Ryan replied, "Actually, I think it might be kind of erotic to watch the two of you." 

Isabella wanted to be appalled. "You want to see another man fuck me?" 

"Well, as Lindsey said, we know the two of you have done it, just like you know Lindsey and I have done it. Now, I'd like to see it." Ryan quickly held up his hand, to halt her protestation. "And not because I want to see how good you might be with each other. Obviously, there has been something missing in our marriage for a long time and it finally drove us to what happened tonight. We used to have good sex, but somewhere along the way something happened and we stopped. Maybe tonight was what we needed. Maybe we just needed another couple in our lives to spice it up; particularly a couple that are having the same issues as we are." 

Isabella thought about that for a few moments. 

"That's actually quite profound," Logan agreed. "And it makes a lot of sense. I've heard of other couples doing such things—swapping—to reinvigorate their marriages." 

"Even I have to admit it makes a lot of sense," Lindsey said. "The very same thing has happened to Logan and me. We used to have fun sex. And like you, somewhere along the way we lost it. What do you say, Isabella, maybe we can learn something from each other?" 

Without waiting for her to reply, Logan walked the couple of steps over to her, took her glass and set it on the end table. He knelt down before her and leaned in to kiss her. 

Shaking her head, Isabella said, "I can't believe I'm going to do this." She then leaned in and returned Logan's kiss. 

While that was happening, Lindsey moved over to kneel between Ryan's spread legs. She deftly undid his pants and zipper, and pulled out his erect penis. "You should know, Isabella; I don't think your husband was this hard when we did it before." 

Isabella couldn't help but twisting her neck as much as she could without tearing her lips away from Logan's—he really was a good kisser. But when she saw her husband's seemingly huge cock in the grip of Lindsey's hand, her gasp caused Logan to pull back. She couldn't remember when the last time she had seen Ryan's dick hard was let alone that hard. It was . . . breathtaking—that was no criticism of Logan's, which was more than respectable. Isabella subconsciously licked her lips as Lindsey's mouth engulfed Ryan's rod. 




Against All Odds



Logan noticed her watching her husband and knew he needed to do something to regain her attention. He spread her legs, which she involuntarily allowed. This caused her skirt to rise and he pushed it up the rest of the way to expose her panties. He stretched the elastic of one of the legs to expose her sweet pussy and instantly took a swipe with his tongue. 

Isabella shivered and sucked in her breath. "Mmmmm." 

Ryan had mixed emotions about watching his wife have her pussy eaten by another man. It was both unsettling and exhilarating, and was tempered by that fact that Lindsey was expertly devouring his cock. What good deed had he done to deserve such an exciting outcome to the day? 

For her part, Lindsey was also quite pleased with the turn of events. The vigor with which her husband was going down on Isabella was thrilling. It made her wish he was eating her instead of the other woman. She considered for an instant asking Isabella to switch, but she didn't because she really did want to see if her husband was as good as the other woman claimed—correction; she wanted see if he still had what he used to have. 

Logan took a breather to tug Isabella's panties off. To his surprise, when he had them completely removed, Ryan had his hand out. Well, the evening had already taken a weird twist so he handed the underwear over. 

All eyes were on Ryan now to see what he would do with the stained panties. He wasn't really sure why he had wanted them. He pressed the crotch to his nostrils, inhaling his wife's heady scent. Following that, the other couple went back to their oral ministrations. 

Ryan glanced at his wife. Isabella returned the look, offering as warm a smile as she had in a while and causing him to have a tingling feeling. He reached out and took her hand, thinking how this scene must look. As his mind wondered about that, he was brought back to reality when Lindsey stood and pulled on his cock to get him to stand also. His pants and underwear dropped to the floor. She unbuttoned and removed his shirt, so he eased out of his shoes and pulled his feet out of his clothes. A quick stoop to tear off his socks rendered him completely nude. He then undressed Lindsey as she led him over to the bed and pushed him down onto it on his back. She resumed blowing him. 

A minute later, Logan and Isabella followed suit undressing each other. They claimed the other half of the bed. He laid her on her back, spread her legs and went back to muff munching. 

Wanting to watch, Lindsey crawled onto the bed laying on her side facing Logan and Isabella. She signaled for Ryan to get behind her. He complied. Lindsey lifted her leg, twisted her head back and whispered, "Fuck me." Positioning himself, Ryan slid his cock in. "Mmmm," Lindsey moaned. As Ryan plugged away, Lindsey focused on her husband's oral attention to the other woman. "You're really pretty good at that," she noted. 

"Yes, he is," Isabella grunted, enjoying the tongue in her pussy. 

Ryan lifted his head to see, but couldn't grab more than a glimpse without refraining from thrusting. 

Leaning on her elbow and resting her head in her palm, Lindsey observed, "You have nice tits." 

Once again, Isabella was taken by surprise. She'd never had a woman offer such a compliment; hell, she'd never had another women see her bare breasts. "I'm not sure how to respond to that. I've can't recall having a compliment like that from—" 

"Yeah, I guess it is kind of weird. But for what it's worth, I never thought I'd find myself in a situation like this so I've never been in a position to offer such a compliment. Although I have to tell you, it is erotic. I guess it's causing me to become aware of things I wouldn't normally—like your tits." 

"Well, yours are . . . nice . . . also." 

"Thanks. Logan, when are you going to fuck her? I want to see you fuck her." 

"Gladly," her husband eagerly responded. Logan merely pulled himself up and entered her missionary style. They each let out a satisfying moan. 

Isabella closed her eyes to enjoy the fabulous feeling of a cock in her pussy. Twice in one night! What did she do to deserve it? But her delectation was quickly interrupted. 

"Would you mind if I touched your breast?" Lindsey asked. 

Both men abruptly stopped their thrusting at the sound of that. 

"What? Why?" Isabella wanted to know. 

"I've never touched another woman's breast," she said. "I just—I don't know—wanted to see what it was like." 

"But you've touched your own, haven't you?" 

"Yes, but . . . oh, well, never mind." 

With a shrug, Isabella said, "Hey, as crazy as this night has become, what the hell?" 

Concurrently, each woman felt the cock in her pussy pulse with arousal. 

"Well, Ryan likes the idea," Lindsey noted with a grin. 

"So, does Logan," Isabella noted, smirking. 

Ryan sat up to watch as Lindsey reached out and gently cupped Isabella's flattened left boob. She ran her palm around its circumference and finally placed thumb and forefinger around the nipple, but did not squeeze. She caressed it a bit longer, and then quickly withdrew her hand. 

Sighing, Isabella said, "You don't have to stop." When Logan snickered, she quickly commanded, "You. Back to what you were doing!" 

They all laughed. 

Ryan turned Lindsey onto her back and slid his cock back in. Now, the two couples were fucking side by side in the same positions. The men intensified their thrusting, almost as though it was a contest. However, the women felt the pleasure of it. Their moaning attracted each other's attention. Somehow, their hands involuntarily touched and subconsciously held. 

When Isabella realized she and Lindsey were holding hands, her immediate reaction was to shake it loose. However, the wonderful fucking she was receiving was clouding her judgment—or causing her to think differently—and just as quickly, the hand-holding was actually comforting, not to mention erotic. That word seemed to keep popping up. She also looked up at her husband and saw the intense concentration on his face. She wondered if he'd had the same intensity the last few times they had made love, but it had been so long, she could not remember. 

He opened his eyes and saw her looking at him. Ryan wondered what was going through her mind. He smiled and she returned the gesture. When he noticed her holding hands with Lindsey, his cock involuntarily pulsed. He didn't see Lindsey also watching him and smirk when she felt his penis expand. The emotion of the evening had him seeing Isabella in a whole new light. He suddenly wished his dick was sheathed in her pussy—and he hadn't wished that in a long time. He reached out for her hand and she eagerly let go of Lindsey's and accepted his. It made his cock pulse again to Lindsey's unseen delight. 

Logan was not blind to any of this. Not only did he see, but he could sense that an awakening was occurring between Isabella and her husband. Not surprisingly, he found himself having similar feelings about his own wife. Like the others, seeing his spouse being fucked by someone else filled him with mixed emotions, not the least of which was erotica. But it was encouraging to know that she still had something within her—and that he did, as well. There was hope for them. 

With emotions running so high, the men were really pounding the women. The energy was not wasted as first, Lindsey, and then, Isabella, found themselves in the passionate throes of orgasms. Both women were shrieking and moaning and sighing and whimpering until finally they had to push the men away. 

When she was able to catch her breath, Lindsey exclaimed, "That was fantastic! Fucking with another couple really adds excitement to it." 

"Yeah, it was different," her husband agreed. 

"It was fun in a twisted sort of way," Isabella remarked. 

"I liked it," Ryan concurred. 

"You two still need to come," Lindsey observed. "You can stick it back in," she told Ryan." 

He hesitated and then said, "Actually, I-I'd like to fuck my wife." 

No one expected that, but Isabella quickly agreed. "Yes, I'd really like that, too." 

Then Logan asked, "Lindsey, can I—" 

"Thought you'd never ask," his wife answered with a grin. 

The men changed places. Isabella was all smiles as her husband mounted her and drove his cock covered with another woman's juices into her pussy. As it was effortlessly sliding in, it instantly occurred to Isabella where Ryan's penis had been, and not so surprisingly, she found the thought stimulating. 

Before Logan could enter his wife, Lindsey turned onto her stomach. Her husband straddled her thighs and she reached between her legs to help guide his dick in. The other couple traded curious expressions, both thinking Lindsey really didn't want to do it with her husband. However, she quickly explained, "This used to be our favorite position. I hope it still is." 

"It is," Logan confirmed, groaning in delight as he pushed his cock all the way in, the position making for a much tighter feel. 

"Besides, it allows me to watch the two of you," Lindsey added. As both couples got into it, she casually reached out and once more caressed Isabella's breast. 

Not expecting it, caused Isabella to twitch, but she quickly adjusted, and actually found it soothing. What really surprised her was when Lindsey's hand tenderly traveled down Isabella's abdomen making contact with her clit and Ryan's pumping cock. 

"You have no idea how horny all of this is making me and wanting to do things I've never been able to do," Lindsey explained. "I hope you don't mind." 

"Enjoy yourself," Isabella told her. "But give me notice before you do anything too wild." 

"I'll try, but it's all been impulsive. I had never considered doing a foursome before, but now, it's all I can think of." 

Adding to Lindsey's impulsiveness, Ryan raised his wife's legs up, holding them by her thighs. Lindsey's hand went around Isabella's rear where she was able to cup Ryan's balls as he fucked his spouse. 

A whimper escaped Ryan's lips as the other woman massaged his scrotum. It felt incredible to be played with, but he also feared coming too soon—although with all the stimulation this evening had provided, he was amazed he hadn't shot his wad already. To compensate, he eased off of the bed to continue the wonderful feeling of fucking his wife again. Lindsey's pussy had been a terrific fuck, but screwing his wife again after such a long time was simply magnificent. It felt very familiar. 

Logan was having very similar thoughts. He'd never had an extramarital affair, and sex with Isabella had been the thrill of a lifetime. But now that his cock was locked in the safe and snug confine of his wife's pussy again, it felt right, and it felt natural. Her vagina was coaxing him to come, and he knew it wouldn't be long before he exploded. 

And as if the evening hadn't been strange enough so far, Isabella pushed her husband away for a moment to turn onto her stomach. She wiggled her ass for Ryan to stick his cock back in, which he did and resumed pumping. By design, this maneuver put Isabella face to face with Lindsey, whom she now found herself beginning to take a liking to. 

Lindsey was not immune to similar feelings about Isabella—strange considering how the two came to know each other. 

Looking into each other's eyes, they felt a certain kinship and leaned their foreheads together as their husbands pounded them. That didn't last long because Logan wanted to turn his wife over onto her back. She allowed it and hers and Isabella's heads were now side by side, though in opposite directions. Now, they actually inched their heads closer until their cheeks were touching. 

Seeing this unusual, but satisfying behavior from his wife drove Ryan nearly to the edge. Without thinking, he reached out and palmed his wife's breast, and then impulsively did the same to Lindsey. 

Witnessing this act, Logan did exactly the same, except that when his hand covered Isabella's tit, she grabbed and held his arm. Lindsey then reached up to touch whatever part of Ryan that she could, part of his arm, as well. 

With all four now connected by a simple touch, Ryan could not out hold out any longer. "I'm going to come!" he shouted, and started to pull out of his wife. 

"You can stay inside me," Isabella offered. 

And that caused her husband to fire a huge load into his wife accompanied by a roar of pleasure. 

"I'm gonna come, too," Logan yelled. 

"Don't pull out," his wife instructed. 

And he blasted her also. 

The unusual thrill of having her pussy filled with her husband's cream, had Isabella coming again tonight, which was unprecedented. She was nearly brought to tears by it. 

Not to be outdone, but strictly uncontrolled, Lindsey screeched as her orgasm racked her body with spasms in her muscles. 

"Oh, man, that was the best orgasm ever!" Lindsay exclaimed in a loud voice once she recovered. 

"So, was mine," Isabella agreed, with almost equal enthusiasm. 

"Mine was no slouch," Logan said. 

"Nor mine," Ryan intoned. 

"We have to do this again!" Lindsey almost demanded. "So much good has come from tonight. We've reconnected with our spouses, we've made new friends and we've had the best sex of our lives!" 

"Gee, Lindsey, don't hold back, tell us how you really feel!" Isabella quipped. 

"I'm game," Logan eagerly agreed. 

"I'm not opposed," Isabella said. "But I think our judgment might be clouded by what we've done tonight. I suggest we get together socially—" the others snickered "—you know what I mean. Dinner at a restaurant, a public place, where we can get to know each other without sexual influence; make sure we actually like each other as people." 

"Okay. How about tomorrow night?" Lindsey eagerly asked. 

"You don't think we should give each other some time to process all of this?" Isabella questioned. 

"Okay. Sure. You're right. Let's wait until Sunday." 

The men laughed. 

Rolling her eyes, Isabella agreed. 

Isabella got up to dress. 

"You're leaving?" 

"It's late." Isabella glanced at Ryan. "And right now, I just want to go home with my husband." She smiled at him. "And I would have bet against all odds of that ever happening." 

THE END