Madeleine Strays: A Wife-Watching Romance (18 page)

“It was different,” he said, and realized his answer wasn’t helpful.

“You did have a good time, though? I want you to be happy.”

“I had an amazing time,” he said, trying to be clearer in his enthusiasm. “Seeing you so close like that, hearing how you responded to him.”

Leaning over her thigh, he gently pressed his lips to hers, slipping out his tongue to taste her tangy flavor, the contact of his hot mouth on her sensitive parts teasing out a long groan from Madeleine.

“It was intense,” he elucidated, “I could smell your perfume and his cologne, I could hear the sound of him sliding inside you. But I just loved seeing your expressions, just how you were enjoying it—and when you looked directly at me. The way your face contorted with bliss...”

“But you didn’t feel bad, you didn’t feel too jealous?”

He kissed her clit, and then slipped his fingers inside her, gently covering them in her slick juices before penetration. “I always feel jealous,” he chuckled. “I guess it’s an acquired taste, which I’ve acquired.”

“But when he was asking me all those questions, about my… you know, history. I am so sorry—I just couldn’t stop him.”

“I know. I actually enjoyed hearing about it, it was interesting. Hot, even. I wanted to know more about how it was, your first time and so on.”

“Seriously?”

“You’ll have to tell me more some time.”’

“You’re crazy, you know that?”

He smiled, “I guess I am. So how did you feel being in our bedroom with him? You prefer being across the street?”

Hugo shifted round, so that he was between her thighs, one draped over his shoulder, the other raised as her foot supported her on the edge of the window seat. From here, he had better access to dive in, lap up her sweet nectar, drawing his tongue slowly over her hot, slippery folds as he nudged her clit with his nose.

She groaned. “I think you’re right—it’s a different experience when I’m right in front of you. It’s kind of nice both ways. But in here, I was a little worried about how you were taking it—it was kinda like you were trapped in there.”

He said, “I had to be careful not to give myself away—I suppose that was one of the down sides. So d’you think you prefer being safely across the street?”

“Oh no,” she groaned as he started kissing his way around her clit, nudging it though refraining from direct contact. “No, actually, not at all. It’s fantastic fun being over there in a strange environment—sexy, I guess. But here having you in the same room—that was insane.”

“Really?”

“The emotions were just deeper, the feelings. This was our bedroom—our bed—and I’d brought in a strange man. And you were right there, I knew you were. Watching. Hopefully excited by what you were seeing.”

“I certainly was.”

“I loved it, knowing you were watching. That was best of all,” she moaned at the memory, though perhaps also from her husband’s soft tongue flicking over her little button. “I only wished I could have actually seen you,” she added.

“Seen me?”

“I wanted to see how you responded to it all,” she said. “That would have been so hot.”

Hugo grinned, and now pulled himself up, stripping off his shirt, the bulge obvious in his pants. “You see how I respond?” he said. “I guess you’re beginning to understand my side of the fantasy, huh.”

“I guess so.”

“But you still dream of having a proper affair?”

“It’s a different fantasy, I think.”

The beaming smile on her face made Hugo feel pure elation. Her hands flew to his belt, fingers moving rapidly to fling open the buckle and open his fly, then push down his pants to reveal his hard manhood.

She leaned forward to stretching her lips around his tip, her tongue pressing hot to his flesh, tasting the dribble of moisture she’d already inspired from him.

But then she was leaning back, slipping her underwear down past her hips and over her knees, opening her legs wide for him.

She was breathtaking. And she was all his.

Hands holding her calves, he glided inside her, easily filling her, her profuse wetness aiding his passage. Did she feel a touch different after she’d just had someone else’s cock inside her? He wasn’t sure, perhaps it was his imagination. She felt so wonderfully tight around him, that was the important thing.

“Does that feel different to him?” he asked her, feeling strangely open about talking about this with her.

“A little,” she said.

“He’s bigger?”

She grinned. “I think he’s a little longer, but not much. You’re a little thicker, actually.”

“Really?”

“You have the perfect cock, sweetie, did I ever tell you that?”

He smiled.

She looked at him as he slowly thrust in and out of her tightness, for a moment just gazing in his eyes, her chest rising and falling from her heavy breathing, as though she was considering something.

She tilted her head. “You know what I think about sometimes? Well, ever since we started talking about this strange fantasy…”

“What do you think about?”

Hugo felt himself quiver. What was she going to say? Madeleine didn’t really talk about her fantasies much, and when she had—revealing her crush on Connor, for example—it had an explosive affect on Hugo.

She gave a bashful half-smile, creasing up her eyes, her expression suggesting she was beginning to regret mentioning the fact that she’d been fantasizing about something. But she could see there was no way to put the cork back in the bottle now.

Suddenly almost shy, she admitted, “Sometimes I think about you sharing me with Connor.”

“I am sharing you with him.”

“No, I mean at the same time. So I can see you watching as I fuck someone in front of you, so I can feel you react while you’re inside me.”

Hugo felt his manhood throb deep inside her, and it was obvious from her little gasp that she felt it too.

“You like that idea?” she asked, the shyness falling away from her voice, her demeanor, as her confidence returned.

God, she was so sexy. Even her fantasies.

“Threesome, huh?” he asked her, a wry grin spreading across his face.

“I guess it wouldn’t need to be with Connor,” she grinned, “but that’s the way it is in my mind.”

“Nice.” He leaned down to kiss her mouth, her pretty eyes looking up at him with fresh awe at what a wonderful husband she had, a sense that only made him feel warmer inside. “I’m not sure how well I’d stack up to him...”

“Oh, we wouldn’t be comparing,” she said.

She stood up, and Hugo gave her room to turn, present her rear to him. He stooped briefly to kiss her there, to gently touch his lips to her reddened lips to reacquaint himself with the exhilarating taste of her sex. Then he was standing again, hands moving over the soft, warm roundness of her behind as his big, hard, burning cock nudged against her wetness, and then slid slowly inside.

“Go slow,” she said, “I’m a little sore.”

A little sore from a night of madly fucking another man. The thought made him feel slightly giddy, though the blood filled his manhood so that he was harder than ever.

He had to resist the temptation to go at her like some mad lust-crazed animal, reclaim her and satisfy the biological urge within him to dislodge another man’s seed from this fanciable female.

As he complied with her wishes to slowly stir within her, he said, “We never really talked about threesomes before.”

“We don’t have to—” she uttered, clearly worried he was not so open to the idea of sharing her in such a way.

“No, I like the idea,” he said. “I just never knew you had that kind of fantasy.”

“Oh, I have other fantasies I haven’t told you about yet,” she smiled at him as she tucked her beautiful golden hair behind an ear.

He fucked her irresistibly slowly, and from the way she moved under him, and the way she cried out from the sensations as he thrust carefully into her, it appeared that she didn’t need much more than that moderate pace. Her hand did slide down between her legs to stroke her clit as he penetrated her.

Hugo said, “So you think your friend Connor might want to try it?”

She smiled back at him, he smile of a confessor.

“You already talked to him about it, didn’t you?” Hugo laughed. “When you were having your shower with him.”

“I might have.”

“And?”

“He’s intrigued.”

It was only as Madeleine was rising over her final shuddering climax of the night, pulling him with her so that his stiffness pulsated and throbbed inside her, erupting with a powerful burst of pent-up come—only then did he notice that in the darkened windows of Connor’s room, a shadow suggested that they had had an audience for their display in the window.

Twenty Four

The fact that Madeleine was dating Connor meant that when she went out with Lucy now, on the whole Hugo usually felt as though it was a night off for him. She wasn’t going to look for another man while her lusts were preoccupied with her crush from across the street. It meant girls’ nights out would involve only looking for a guy for Lucy.

Hugo found himself working late, or perhaps grabbing a post-work drink or two with Ray or Lowego, happy that Madeleine was probably having some innocent girl time, and he didn’t have to think about the possibility that another man might be sleeping with her.

He supposed that at some point—when Connor decided to go his separate ways, or when her liaisons with him started to become old hat, and she and Hugo perhaps began to get that little tickling itch for her to find a new guy to play with—girls nights out might become dangerous, with Madeleine and Lucy acting as singletons out on the prowl together. For now, though, they were relatively safe.

After one evening in which he stayed late at the office to catch up on some work, Hugo came out of the building to find an unexpected person waiting for him.

“Hey.”

“Oh, hey. Wasn’t expecting—“

“Thought I’d drop by—we haven’t really met, not properly.”

“No, I suppose we haven’t.”

The man who was fucking his wife was casually waiting for him on one of the benches lining the entrance lobby of the building.

Hugo’s blood froze. The guy hadn’t really been dating Madeleine for long—or at least, hadn’t been sleeping with her for long. Yet as he saw the well-presented young man waiting there in the lobby of his office building, Hugo found his mind leaping to all sorts of painful conclusions.

Like the possibility that he might be here to ask Hugo to divorce his wife.

Hugo shook the man’s outstretched hand politely but cautiously. He didn’t want things to be awkward between them—he liked that Madeleine had a crush on Connor, strangely enough. It showed she was picky, she wasn’t going to go with just anyone. But actually meeting him was strange.

“Good to meet you,” Connor said with a warm smile.

“Uh yeah…” Hugo said, trying to smile back, trying to believe he was here for good intentions, not to demand some kind of eighteenth century-style dual over Madeleine’s hand. “Does Madeleine know you’re here?”

Connor shook his head. “She’s supposed to be having a night with the girls tonight, I believe.”

Hugo nodded. Connor wasn’t giving off any negative vibes whatsoever, not even a hint that he saw Hugo as a bitter rival, or that he wanted to select weapons, line up with him back-to-back in the middle of a Manhattan thoroughfare, then take twelve paces, turn and fire.

“Well,” he said, “I guess she likes keeping some of her secrets from me—“

“She does,” Connor’s confirmation sent a little spike of jealousy through Hugo’s chest, as though suggesting this other man, this virtual stranger, had knowledge about Madeleine that Hugo himself did not. “Hey—look, do you want to find a bar somewhere? They must have them around here.”

“Uh… sure.”

Well, he wasn’t doing anything, and Madeleine would be tied up with Lucy until late. Beginning to suspect that Connor wasn’t here to demand an instant divorce, Hugo found himself curious about him, and his take on the beautiful enigma that was Madeleine.

Hugo steered them round the block to a bar he often went to with his co-workers, but which he knew would be unlikely to contain any that might know him that evening. As they walked, he fired off a quick text to Madeleine to say he was having drinks after work, not that it mattered since she was out, but out of sheer habit for letting her know where he was.

“So,” came the awkward ice-breaker as they both sat down at a quiet table, Hugo with a Blue Moon, Connor with a JD and Coke.

“So,” Connor nodded, accepting it was his responsibility to get to the nub of why he’d decided to meet the husband of his current squeeze. “Madeleine’s told me you know all about our little… well, thing.”

“She’s not wrong.”

“To tell you the truth, I was pretty surprised when she finally accepted one of my requests for a date.”

“You knew she was married, I suppose—but then, that didn’t stop you asking her out.”

“No. That whole thing started as a bit of a joke—I mean, it was so clear how flirty she was at the bookstore, hell that was the only reason I went there, so I’d just pop that question in every time. I knew she was married—but I also knew that you guys were great together.”

Hugo raised his eyebrows.

“Those blinds of yours don’t hide nearly as much as you think they do.”

That made Hugo laugh. Well, it was too late to be embarrassed. He said, “You watched us?”

“Hard not to sometimes. She’s really stunning.”

“She certainly is.” Hugo took a swig of his beer, pleased at the complements for his perfect wife.

“I never thought I’d want to sleep with a married woman,” Connor said. He looked at his tumbler as though there was some answer there to a question he couldn’t quite fathom. “I certainly never thought I’d want to get married myself.”

Hugo felt his stomach churn. He remained silent.

“I always thought marriage was the end of good sex, you know? Why tie yourself down to one woman?” Connor said. Then he added: “Well, I know women, I’ve been with plenty in my time, and I’ve never met anyone like Madeleine.”

“She is one of a kind.”

“I hate to sound like an asshole, but it’s not in my habit to sleep with the same girl very much.”

“I get that impression.”

Connor nodded, accepting that if he’d been able to see Hugo and Madeleine with their blinds attempting to control the view, there was no way they could have missed Connor and his complete lack of blinds or curtains of any kind.

The younger man said, “Madeleine has changed me.”

“Changed you?” Hugo felt sick. He should never have allowed her to date a man she had such strong attraction to, such strong feelings for. He should have insisted on strangers if she was going to stray at all.

“You’ve changed me,” Connor said.

Hugo sputtered, midway through a sip of beer. “Me?”

“You’ve been the one to encourage her—I’ve seen it plain as day. She’s become this wonderfully sexy, confident, independent woman, and she’s totally transformed my view on what a married woman can be like,” Connor said. “I’ve seen how she’s changed since she first started at the bookstore.”

“So now,” Hugo said, “what are you saying? You want to marry her?”

Connor looked up, a sharp look of confusion in his eyes. Then he broke out into a broad smile, and started to laugh. Hugo felt heat well up under his collar.

“Marry her? Marry Madeleine?” Still laughing, Connor shook his head. “Do you know how much she completely adores you, Hugo? There’s no way I could compete with that, even if I wanted to.”

“Oh.” Hugo felt relief wash through him.

“She loves you, man. She can’t stop talking about you. Even with us, she put me off until she knew you’d be okay about it.”

Hugo sipped his beer, feeling a surprising camaraderie with the younger man.

“You know how many lunch dates I had with her where we talked about you? Talked about how she has your permission to even be there? Like she was trying to justify all this to herself. To ease her guilt.”

That sounded about right. Hugo liked the sound of that. “What can I say? I started out hoping she’d get friendly with a few guys just to try to cheer her up after… well, after we moved to a strange new city. It came as a bit of a surprise that actually having her flirting with other guys would have such an affect on her.”

“But you liked it, beyond the simple fact that it turned her into a horny sex goddess?” Connor said. He seemed genuinely interested.

“I think maybe you wouldn’t understand it unless you have someone you can’t do without, someone so important to you that it would seem insane that you’d risk sharing her with other guys.”

Connor nodded. “I’ve never really met a girl like that. A woman. Not until Madeleine came along—not that she’s the one I want to marry. But you’re not jealous? I find myself jealous sometimes when Madeleine’s with you now, and I’ve never ever been jealous about a girl before.”

“I get jealous—and afraid. Afraid I’ll lose her, even though I know deep down that I won’t. But somehow, that’s become part of the thrill. You know—it adds intensity to the whole thing. A little like when you get that sharp fear on a roller coaster.”

Connor signaled one of the servers to refill their drinks, and then he said: “You know, my whole life I’ve thought that when you got married, you had to settle for one woman and it would all get so dull. I kept dating all these different women, but they kind of all blur into nothing. I can see now the point of dedicating yourself to one person. But the idea that you would let her see other men, that it would strengthen your bond, that it would have the strange affect of making her more horny for you when she returned… well, I’ve never even thought about that before.”

“It’s not for everyone.”

“No, I’m sure it’s not, the amount of spousal homicide that’s caused by infidelity. But… well, recently, it’s begun to be something I can’t stop thinking about.”

Hugo chuckled, a little disbelieving that the most eligible bachelor this side of New York, who they’d seen with countless young, beautiful women over in his apartment over the course of the past year, might want to find himself an insatiable wife to settle down with, while allowing her the same kind of sexual independence Hugo was encouraging in Madeleine.

He said: “You could always give it a try. What have you got to lose? I’m not saying marry someone just to attempt that kind of experiment—but if you met someone who seemed right, you might give it a go.”

Connor nodded. “You’re right. I should just do it.”

*

He actually enjoyed hearing from the guy his take on seducing Madeleine, on what it had been like for him to have no chance at this married beauty he saw regularly peeling off her clothes in the windows of the building across the street—and then suddenly find himself taking her out on dates, kissing her, going the whole way to heaven and back.

“I think it was her attitude more than anything that was so sexy, so different to the girls I’d dated before,” Connor said. “She’s such a sharp, interesting person—and yet she has the most unbelievable fire inside her.”

“She does,” Hugo said, feeling a warm glow inside him to talk about his beloved wife.

“I don’t know how you guys can go your separate ways every morning to go to work. I’d want to keep her locked in the bedroom, never stop, you know what I mean?”

“When you’re married, you get the feeling you have plenty of time for that. So you feel able to wait—long enough to earn a living, anyway.”

“Well, I’d never cope, what can I say—your wife is so incredible.”

Drinking with Connor, Hugo found himself actually wanting to hear the details of how the guy found his wife in bed, what they actually got up to. It was also fascinating to hear his side of experiencing the shared wife phenomenon.

He said, “I think when I was first getting interested in her, the idea of pursuing a married woman just appealed because she’d want it no strings, you know? And then when she actually said yes—well, it was delicious to get something that should have been off-limits.”

“I can understand that appeal.”

“And then when we were on a date together—every time, it felt so different to any date I’d been on before. I mean, I date a lot of women, but it’s just so exciting being with Madeleine—she’s feeling this constant state of anxiety, that she’s being depraved or naughty for being on a date with you, and it’s just so hot.”

Hugo nodded, understanding that feeling perfectly.

“The first time we went back to my place for lunch, I remember how nervous she was. How she kept looking up at her place—at your place. Like she wanted you to be there, but didn’t.”

Somehow, Hugo managed to remain stony faced. Somehow, he was able to raise his glass of beer without his hand shaking like crazy.

“I think she was actually disappointed that you weren’t.”

“Yeah?” Hugo’s throat was parched, despite the beer.

“I mean, she quickly got over it. I remember it so distinctly. She was in these super tight jeans and a sweater that molded to her body.”

Hugo knew the one. It was tight and scooped low enough to show off a healthy amount of cleavage. He hadn’t seen her wear it in more than a few months. His body buzzed at the implications. “The pink and white one? With the stripes?”

Connor nodded. “That’s the one. We’d had a few lunch meetings. Been on a few dates. She’d been so coy, putting me off. I tried to be cool, but I couldn’t resist any more. Not with that sweater. So I suggested we pick up some lunch and eat it back at my place.”

Hugo gulped. “And she said yes?”

“Took some convincing, but yeah.”

“And that was your first time?”

Connor grinned. “First and second. We spent most of the afternoon together. She can be insatiable.”

Hugo thought of the box of condoms and how empty it was. Everything started sliding into place. He felt sick to his stomach, but incredibly aroused at the same time.

“She can be,” Hugo ventured.

“I started thinking about her all the time—when we weren’t fucking, I mean.”

“You did it a lot?”

Connor looked up at Hugo, realizing perhaps for the first time that this was all new territory for the man. “Not as much as I would have liked. We had all our lunch dates at my place after that. We met up at the W a couple times, too, just to switch it up—she seemed to like that place.”

Hugo could feel the panic in him rise as quickly as his excitement. She’d been fucking him all this time. Months and months of Connor’s cock in her sweet, adulterous pussy.

“Yeah. We’ve had a few adventures there in the past,” Hugo said. He felt like a block of wood. His mind was on all those dates she’d had—dates in which she’d pretended to be seeing strange men. Dates she’d said led nowhere.

Dates that he’d encouraged her to go on.

“How did they usually go? Those times at the W?”