My Woman His Wife Saga (3 page)

We joined Monica in the Jacuzzi a little while later. James popped open one of the Alizé bottles, and we sat back and chilled.
Friday After Next
was playing in the DVD player, but I paid it no mind. I wanted some more of my husband, but with Monica there, I knew it would be a group thing. We relaxed a little longer, and before the movie was over we scrubbed each other clean and dried ourselves off.

James had another movie playing in the room while we fell back on the huge bed. He told us of our plans for the next day. Monica would only be with us for tonight. After breakfast, she would be heading home, leaving me and James to enjoy the rest of our mini-vacation, which was cool with me because I was ready for her to leave anyway. I didn't see why she had to stay the entire night. I mean, he could have easily put her in a cab and sent her on her merry way. I started to suggest that to James, but I didn't want to spoil the mood. He also made mention of a shopping spree and a couple's spa treatment we would be attending at the hotel.

I half watched the movie, and half played back what went down earlier. Out of the corner of my eye, I took in Monica. She was definitely a cutie, and I could see why James thought her to be the perfect candidate for our evening of adventure. She had skills and knew what she was doing, but I couldn't help but wonder how much it took for her to be here.
Had she and James hooked up before?
I tried not to entertain the thought, but it was bugging me. Then, on top of all that, I was wondering if I could maybe hook up with her at a later date. She was phenomenal, and I wanted to see exactly what she could do. Maybe it was just the liquor talking, but I was definitely thinking about meeting up with her soon.

We gave each other full body massages and orally pleased each other until we drifted off to sleep. The next morning we showered together and had breakfast over conversation of our activities the previous evening. When James got up to use the restroom, Monica just kind of stared at me. For some reason I felt a little uncomfortable.

“So, Jasmine, did you enjoy yourself last night?” she asked as if she really wanted to know. I answered after watching her tie the stem of a cherry into a knot with her tongue.

“Yeah, it was different. I had fun,” I said nonchalantly. I did not want to have this conversation with her. I was still thinking about having her one on one, but I wouldn't dare approach the subject.

“Well, if you want us to hook up under more private circumstances, you know how to contact me.”

“I'll do that.”

Just then, James joined us at the table. He thanked Monica for a wonderful evening and put her in a cab to go home. I saw the envelope he slipped her but decided not to comment on it. We went back to our suite to change, and then we went on the shopping spree. We only had three hours to shop because James scheduled our spa time for early afternoon.

We made it back to the hotel with ten minutes to spare before we had to go and get pampered. Instead of shopping, we ended up going to a miniature golf course. After that we had lunch at the Hibachi, a five-star Asian bar located on Delaware Avenue.

All too soon our weekend was over and it was time to go back to work. We had a good time just hanging out and being stress-free, and we got into some hellified sex sessions that left me speechless and smiling every time. No more of the five-minute poundings going on. We made love for hours. Sometimes it was slow, sometimes it was heart-pounding fast, but it was more than five minutes, and that's what mattered.

Before we left I made sure everything was packed and we weren't forgetting anything. I sat on the lounge chair to catch my breath and enjoy the room for a second longer. James was in the restroom making sure he packed all of our toiletries. When he came back in the room, he kneeled in front of me and put his head in my lap.

“Jasmine, I am so happy you are my wife. This weekend was wonderful, and I appreciate you going through with our plans. You have made me very happy,” James said while rubbing the backs of my legs.

“I'm glad you enjoyed yourself. We needed to get away for a second,” I responded while fondling the wavy texture of his hair.

Instead of responding, he reached under my skirt and pulled my panties to the side. I couldn't protest because he was already tasting me. We went at it for another hour and were late checking out. We had to pay a fee, but it was well worth it.

Once James and I got home, things were better than ever. For the first time in months, we made love on a daily basis, and sometimes three or four times a day. In the past two months, we've met up for quick sessions during lunch, and we'd sneak off into the garage late at night while the kids were sleeping to add a little spice to our lovemaking. James sent me tulips at least twice a week, and we made it a must-do to have dinner out on Saturday nights just so we could have our time together. We made acquaintance with the kitchen table on more occasions than I can remember, and life was good.

I didn't think much about Monica, and for me that night was a distant memory—a thing we never spoke about once we left the hotel. I never let on to how much I really enjoyed myself and that I was seriously contemplating doing it again. Monica made my skin feel like it was on fire. I love a nice stiff one, but her soft lips could be a wonderful replacement.

The only thing that kept me from going through with it was my job. I didn't want anyone at the firm thinking I was a “swinger” or anything like that, and a scandal of that caliber could ruin everything James and I worked so hard for. We had our children to think about, and the high-priced vehicles that we were pushing around town. We were used to living ghetto fabulous, and I couldn't see anything that petty taking it all away, no matter how wet my pussy got thinking about her.

I pushed that thought out of my head almost as soon as I thought of it and tried to refocus on my most troublesome case. After a few hours in the office trying to wrap up my long, tiring day, my secretary buzzed me to let me know I had a delivery. I didn't think anything of it as I circled around my desk to pick up what I assumed to be a package. When I opened my office door, a beautiful bouquet of powder pink roses was waiting for me.

Speaking of the devil,
I thought to myself.

I thanked my secretary and picked up the bouquet to take it to my office. Before I could close the door, my secretary called out to me.

“Mrs. Cinque, I have to say I admire you,” she commented with a straight face. I was puzzled as to what brought that about.

“Why is that?”

“Because you bust your behind around here day in and day out, and to me it seems to go unnoticed. Then your husband does little things like send flowers to let you know he's thinking about you, and it all seems to be okay. My son's father would never do that.”

I didn't know what to say, and my face must have said it all. The funny thing is she's been my secretary for the past two years and I can't even think of her name at this moment. I wanted to say something positive, but my mind drew a blank. I could smell Monica's perfume coming from the card in the bouquet, and I wanted to hurry and open it.

“You'll know when you've found the right one. Believe me,” and with that said I closed my door and went to inspect my card.

Monica has beautiful, curvy handwriting that matches her perfectly. The way you write says a lot about you, and her script is just as sassy as she. She wrote a short paragraph inviting me to have dinner with her in her home, without my husband. She said that the night we spent together had been on her mind, and she wanted to show me pleasures I could only dream about. I was shocked, but pleased at the same time. That night we shared was nice, the girl had skills; I had to give it her.

Now my dilemma was this: we shared that one night on some threesome type stuff, but wouldn't me and her one-on-one make me a cheater. If she could make me feel like I felt that night, I thought I may just have to see her again.

At the end of the note she included her address and phone number, and asked that I confirm our meeting by five thirty this evening. I looked at my watch and it was already 5:20. I didn't know what to do, but curiosity got the best of me, and I decided to go for it. We were only having dinner, but my walls were already contracting. Monica can turn you into Spider Woman in no time, and I was ready to go there. Now, what do I tell James?

Before I had my story together, I was already dialing the number to the studio, and hoping I could come up with something by the time he answered the phone. I already decided to call my brother so that he could watch the kids until James got home, and I promised myself that I would not stay over there too late. As soon as I exploded, I would leave.

“Thank you for calling The Urban News Network. This is Cindy, how may I direct your call?”

Cindy is the overly polite receptionist over at the station.

“Hi Cindy, can you connect me to James, please?”

“Sure, Mrs. Cinque. Hold for a second.” She put me on hold and Anita Baker crooning about being in sweet love flowed through my receiver. I felt bad for a second because I loved James, and even though Monica is the same sex as me, it was still cheating. I started to back out and just go make love to him instead until he answered the phone.

“Thanks for calling The Urban News Network, who am I speaking with?” James answered with his deep voice. It sounded like things were a little hectic over there, and he was a little agitated.

“Hey, sweetheart. How's your day going?”

“Hey, baby. I was just about to call you. Our system shut down unexpectedly and we've been trying to get it together for the past hour. I might be here all night.”

“Baby, just relax. You're the best they have over there, and whatever the problem is, you can fix it. That's why you're the Director of Engineering.”

“Thanks babe, but I know we had plans to dip off later, and I don't want to disappoint you.”

“Sweetie, it's okay. I was calling to tell you I would be running late because I'm trying to finish up with the paperwork from the Campbell case, and Trish just made partner, so we were going to get a few drinks afterward to celebrate.” I felt like shit. Those lies rolled off too easily. Well, they weren't total lies. Trish did make partner, but that was like last week and technically I was working on a case, but I was putting it to the side to go bump coochies with Monica. If James even thought I was still seeing Monica, he'd probably die. I know I would be pissed if he were stepping out.

“Tell Trish I said congrats. I'm sorry about tonight, and I'll make it up to you tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay, baby. Don't stress too much. It'll be fine.”

“I know, boo, I know. I love you. Be safe.”

“I will, and I love you too. Talk to you later.”

We blew each other a kiss then hung up. I called Monica next to confirm, and she told me that dinner was almost done, and that I could come on through. I straightened up my desk and put everything in order so that I could bust it out when I came in tomorrow morning. I hate clutter, and never left my desk a mess. Afterward, I freshened up in my private bathroom and made my way down to Monica's to enjoy dinner . . . and whatever dessert came with it.

I was having all kinds of doubts on my drive over to Monica's house. I knew we would sleep together; that went without saying. My only problem was if James ever found out there would be some serious explaining to do. He would have questions, and I knew I couldn't possibly give him an honest answer. How do you tell your husband his sex is the bomb, but you prefer the feel of another woman's lips to his? That wouldn't go over too nicely.

When I pulled up to her house I wasn't the least bit surprised. She lived in a cute, two-story, Victorian-style home that sat way back off the street. Her house had a beautiful wrap-around porch set off by a well-manicured lawn. There was a wooden swing off to the left that was perfect for cool summer nights. Her windows sported pastel pink shutters to match the trim on her white house. She had several rose bushes sprinkled around her yard, and her address hung from a powder pink mailbox on a black address hanger. It was written in script with little roses around the border. Monica definitely loved pink flowers.

By the time I parked my car and began to walk up the path to her door, she was already standing there. Monica was a lot shorter than I remembered. A cute little petite something. She had on a halter dress that stopped just under her ass and showed off her perfect legs. Her hair was done in one of those spiky styles like Halle Berry would wear that showed more of her pretty face and bright eyes.

She greeted me with a tight hug like she really missed me and invited me into her home. The inside was just as breathtaking. She had a sunken living room decorated in pastel yellows, pinks, and blues. The fireplace was to die for, and I could almost picture us lying in front of it on a cold winter night touching and tasting each other.

There was a spiral staircase with steps made of clear marble with rose petals embedded in them. The railing was gold plated with a vine design wrapped around it with crystal roses appearing to bud from it. She had pictures of couples making love in various positions on top of pink rose petals with gold leaves. The flowers really stood out because the couples were sketched in black and white. It wasn't until I took a closer look that I realized that Monica was the woman in the pictures. That left me speechless.

Through the back door I could see her swimming pool, and I had to get a closer look. When I looked in, a portrait of Monica in a pink teddy could be seen painted on the bottom. I wanted to hate, but I was living good so there was no reason to complain. I just wanted to know what she did for a living to be able to afford all of this. I wanted to see the upstairs, but she suggested we eat dinner before it got cold. I mean, hell, we would be up there later anyway.

We had polite conversation while we enjoyed our meal. I was a little nervous and resisted the urge to jet several times. I felt so bad about being there while James was stressing at work, and the fact that I lied to him about where I was made me feel even worse. Monica kind of picked up on my mood and suggested we continue our conversation on the couch. I'm sure she was thinking it was something she did, but that was far from the case.

Once we got comfortable on her sofa, we resumed conversation while she rubbed my feet. It felt so good I could hardly talk. Before I knew it, my head was resting on the arm of the sofa and I was almost asleep. For a second I thought I was at home. I felt James massaging my feet turn into him moving his soft hands up my leg. Then I'm like
How did his hands get so soft all of a sudden?
When I opened my eyes, Monica's hands were high on my thighs, my prize not far away. Surprisingly, I didn't flinch or pull back. I almost wanted her to hurry up because I knew it was going to be good.

She stood up, I assumed, to take her clothes off. She walked toward the stairs, leaving pieces of clothing along the way. It wasn't a lot because she didn't have much on to begin with. By the time she got to the third step, she was standing in nothing but a thong, and I was like
damn.
She looked even better than the last time. Her chocolate skin made you want to kiss her all over, and her nipples were just a shade darker than the rest of her body, putting you in mind of a Hershey's kiss. I was hesitant at first, but I followed her up the stairs and into the master bedroom.

I stood inside the doorway, taking it all in.

Monica turned on the stereo, and I felt like I was listening to a late night smooth grooves session on the radio. She walked over to me and took my hand, leading me to the bed. No words were needed as she slowly undressed me, kissing the body parts she revealed on the way down. My head was screaming, “get the hell out of here”, but the rest of my body was whispering, “girl, you about to explode, so chill.”

She walked me up to her bed and told me to lay flat on my stomach. I did what I was told and closed my eyes, listening to the melody in the background. She straddled me, her warmth and wetness seeping into my pores, and causing a puddle of my own nectar to form under me. The oil she poured onto my back was cool on my already hot skin, but her hands warmed it up in no time. The room smelled like chocolate instantly. Monica was good at what she did, causing all of the tension in my body to leave almost instantly. James became a distant memory as I moaned under the hands of this woman.

She kissed the center of my back as she massaged me, her juice caressing my skin from her pressing her clit against me. She ran her hands down between my thighs, her thumb entering my tunnel then pulling out quickly. She traced the outside of my lips with her well-oiled finger, and I moaned like she done put something in me. I didn't even remember turning over, but Monica was kneeling on my right side massaging the front of me, her tongue feeling hot on my sensitive nipples. I tried to stay cool, but my back arched to meet her lips. I was about to cum, and we hadn't done anything yet.

Monica tied a silk scarf around both of my wrists and attached both arms to the headboard. Now, I was like
hold the hell up.
I don't even let James tie me down, but Monica didn't give me time to protest. She was between my legs and on my clit before I could say anything. It was a good thing my hands were tied because otherwise they would have been holding her head while I glazed her face completely.

She took her time “inspecting” me. Monica held both lips open, leaving room for her tongue to explore all of me. My legs were spread into a perfect V while she sucked and licked on me. She put her tongue so far up in me you couldn't have told me she didn't touch my cervix. I moaned like crazy and tried to catch my breath because she was pulling orgasms out of me left and right.

I felt something cold slide inside of me, and almost lost it completely. On the side of the bed I noticed amongst the bottles of oils and body butters sat two long and thick dildos made of ice. She must have had three, because one was inside of me driving me crazy. I was exploding all over it, almost ashamed because I was messing up her bedspread. She sucked on my clit and worked the ice in and out of me until there was only a small piece left. Silly me thought she would just toss it out. Monica put the ice in her mouth and pushed it into my cave using her tongue. She would push it up and suck it out, causing a whole 'nother explosion until it was gone.