Seven Dates: A Different Kind of Hotwife (11 page)

Inside our house, Joanie immediately went upstairs to shower. She was probably still feeling the sticky remains of Tanner’s come on her ass and back. I let her go first. After all, I’d been licked clean.

I got on my laptop. I had an email from Charlie. He’d received the note from Tanner. He was processing the loan. There were some more papers to sign, and I needed to send him information so he could link the line of credit to my bank account. I took care of that as quickly as possible, and then went upstairs to check on Joanie.

Truth is, I was hoping to do more than check on her. She’d had sex with five different men in just the past five days. That was a run I doubted even Stacy had matched. Stranger still, none of those five men was me, her husband. Even before the craziness, we’d been on a bit of a dry streak. How long had it been since we’d made love? Ten days, two weeks, more? I was planning on fixing that.

The lights were on the bedroom. A good sign. But Joanie was out cold on the bed. She was wearing one of those oversized tee-shirts she usually slept in, but even its tent-like proportions couldn’t hide her curves, and of course, ending at mid-thigh it exposed her shapely legs. Her legs were spread slightly, and I couldn’t help but sneak a peek, and when I did, I got quite the jolt. She’d apparently taken the opportunity of a shower to shave herself. Normally she kept herself lightly trimmed, but as far as I could tell, she was now completely bare.

I resisted the urge to wake her and find out. She probably needed her sleep. Instead, I covered her up, turned out the lights, and returned downstairs.

I booked up an early morning flight to Mexico City. I wanted to lock it in, not let Alejandro try to talk me out of coming. And then I composed an email to him.

Dear Alejandro:

My wife and I decided to take a last minute trip to Mexico tomorrow, and we’ll be spending a night in Mexico City. She’s never been. I’d be delighted if you could join us for dinner. I know this is sudden, but she and I are trying to be more spontaneous. I hope you’ll be available, even if only for drinks.

Regards,

Kellen

Joanie was the key. I was counting on him being too much of gentleman to turn down the invitation. I also knew that with Joanie there, he’d be able to deflect business talk. That was fine. It would make him more likely to accept, and anyway, I just needed to get my foot in the door.

Sure even, less than thirty minutes later, he replied.

Dear Kellen:

Yes, of course. I would be delighted to host you and your wife for dinner. Would you like to come to my apartment? We can eat on the terrace and have a lovely view of the city.

Alejandro

Smart of him. Keep it on his home turf. It would prevent me from picking up the tab if we went out. Like this he was clearly doing me a favor. Business is all about leverage, and he wasn’t going to give me any. He’d be even harder to handle than Donald or Tanner.

I went upstairs and showered. Joanie was still sacked out, so I went back downstairs. I warmed up some leftovers and had a beer as I pondered the situation.

Tanner had probably clued Alejandro in on the basics of the situation. The facts worked in his favor. I was on the outs at Marston, he was riding high at TKD. Whatever Alejandro felt about us individually, and I didn’t really know that either, he knew the importance of personal relationships. Working with Tanner deepened XCOSA’s ties with TKD. Working with me would not only cause him problems with Tanner, but also my own firm since I was basically freelancing the deal. Even if my deal was sweeter, it was riskier and probably would provide fewer long-term benefits. If I were Alejandro, I wouldn’t sign with me either.

At some point I would also need to deal with the fact that I’d been whoring my wife out. I cringed just thinking those words, but I’d been in denial long enough. Our marriage had gone through a crisis, and instead of trying to make things better, I took advantage of it. Once that really hit her, I doubted she’d be able to forgive me. Or maybe she considered forgiving me penance for her own over-the-top behavior? I didn’t know.

Anyway, Joanie wasn’t the answer to Alejandro. He was single. In macho Mexico. There would little or no stigma to having an affair with the beautiful wife of a clueless American businessman. Hell, he could probably brag about it, though from what I knew of him that didn’t seem his style.

Ugh. Everything was still such a mess.

***

I awoke to sound of rustling in the kitchen. I sat up slowly, sore from sleeping on a lumpy couch. I’d fallen asleep still clutching a half-drunk beer. I followed the scent of bacon and coffee and walked in on Joanie.

Kel? You didn’t come to bed?”

“I guess I passed out on the sofa.”

“Yeah, I guess we’re getting a little old to be partying like that.”

“We’re not that old,” I replied.

“You haven’t been partying as hard as I have,” she noted.

“What time is it?”

“A little after six.”

“We can’t dawdle. We have a 8:30am flight.”

“Okay, but I need to eat first. I’m starving. What do you want?”

I wasn’t really hungry. My mood had darkened overnight. The guilt over my behavior was eating at me.

“Joanie will you ever be able to forgive me?”

She looked at me curiously. “I was going to ask you the same thing.”

“Huh?”

“Oh Kellen, I’m….” she sobbed. “I’m the one who acted like a baby. Instead of just talking to you, I went out and pitched the fit of all fits. I was so angry, all I could think of was humiliating you.”

“Joanie, I manipulated you. At least you were angry. What I did was in cold calculation. That makes it worse.”

She shook her head. “You were just responding to me. I went first. Nothing you did could justify it. You were an ass. I was a lunatic. And yours was the right response. I wanted you to yell, scream, lose your mind. I’m glad you didn’t.”

“It’s not that easy Joanie. I
did
provoke it.”

Her eyes moistened, but then she laughed ruefully.

“What?” I asked.

“Kel, you’re not going to convince me that what I did was anything short of monstrous. All I can is plead temporary insanity. And worse, your biggest concern has always been that I at least be enjoying myself.”

“That’s just my selfishness. I didn’t want more guilt.” I laughed a little as well. “I don’t know much about this sort of thing, but I think the fact that we both feel more guilty than angry is a good sign.”

She nodded.

“And Joanie, look, I was just kidding about Alejandro being a sixth date. I mean it, I’m not bringing you along just to sleep with him.”

“Just?” she asked, eyebrow raised.

“I mean, sleep with him at all.”

Even saying that made me feel guilty. Was I really over whoring out my wife? Or had I just calculated that it wouldn’t work?

We both noticed the smell at the same time. She wheeled. “Oh crap, my bacon.” She lift the smoking pan off the stove.

I laughed. “There, another thing for me to feel guilty about.”

“I’m the one who burnt it.”

“I’m the one who distracted you.”

She laughed. “You’re right, Kel, it is all your fault. Now, if you’re not going to eat, why don’t you go take a shower and pack before you find more of my mistakes to take credit for?”

We had to fly through Dallas and that unfortunately entailed a lengthy layover. I’d booked us business class, so it was pretty comfortable, but it was still long. We didn’t talk very much. I think we were both still trying to make sense of everything.

My guilt kept growing. It wasn’t just that I’d provoked it and whored her out, it was also that I was sort of glad it had happened. I liked the new, sexually adventurous Joanie. I knew it was wrong to want that. You’re supposed to love a person as they are, not as you’d like them to be. Aren’t you?

Joanie seemed lost in thought as well most of the trip, but on the final leg into Mexico City, I caught her at one point looking out the window with a cute, little smile on her face. I wanted to tap into that light, to break my sense of gloom and darkness.

“What are you smiling about?”

“Oh, nothing,” she replied.

“Oh, um, okay.”

She hesitated. “You really want to know?”

“Yeah?”

“I was thinking about yesterday.”

“At the club?”

“Uh huh.”

A surge of guilt. I’d had my wife screw that asshole Tanner Alden just so I could get a hold of his phone. But she was still grinning.

“You liked it,” I suggested.

She nodded. “Do you know which part I liked best?”

I thought of Jas’s words,
Amber was eating her ass, and then suddenly she said, something about needing a cock
.

“Was it when you climbed into his lap?”

She regarded me thoughtfully as if considering it. Then she shook her head. “No, after. When he was taking me from behind, and I was, ah….”

She couldn’t seem to actually say it. “Giving Amber oral?”

Joanie blushed a deep red. She gave me a quick nod. “I’ve never understood what you get out of doing that to me.”

“It’s the reaction.”

She smiled. “I know that now. It was amazing to see her writhing around like that. So exciting to see how excited I got her. And… and she was so smooth.”

“Is that why you shaved?”

A look of shock.

I shrugged. “Sorry, I caught a peek when I was tucking you in.”

“Caught a peek, huh?”

My turn to blush.

“But yes,” she answered. “Think you’ll like it?”

“I know I will. Just wait until I get you into the hotel.”

***

Unfortunately, once we got to the hotel, there was no time. Between getting through immigration and the appalling traffic, we barely had time to shower and change before we had to go. I did get another quick peek as she slipped on her matching, black bra and panties, but that would have to do until we got back tonight. She wore a simple black dress, cut a little lower than most of her clothes, showing off a little cleavage. The kind of dress I hadn’t given her much of an opportunity to wear recently.

The taxi brought us to his home, a 1950s apartment building in Palanco opposite Parque Lincoln. Alejandro was doing even better than I had realized. It gave me a little hope. A man who could afford an apartment here might be secure enough to take a risk on a young, hungry partner.

As we walked through the front door, a gorgeous young woman came out. For a moment, she gave me a start. She was almost a spitting image of the brunette stripper from yesterday, Riley. She even wore a similar choker around her neck, though hers was adorned with a small golden loop. Flashing, dark, nearly black eyes. Red lipstick. As she squeezed past us, I caught a whiff of her perfume, intoxicating, smoky and a little spicy.

Joanie caught me looking at her and gave me a little jab to the ribs.

I shrugged.
Sorry
.

When we got upstairs and Alejandro opened the door, I had to suppress a laugh. I hadn’t smelled her perfume. The scent was the same as coming from his kitchen. Well, I had to admit, he had good taste in housekeepers.

He waved Joanie in and shook my hand as I followed.

“Alejandro, this my wife, Joanie. Joanie, Alejandro.”

He smiled at her and shook her hand. He was taller than I’d remembered, although part of that was his perfectly tailored, grey suit that accentuated his lean frame. Cleanly shaved with salt and pepper hair, he looked vaguely aristocratic, although he dispelled that a gregarious tone and an easy laugh.

“I’m so delighted you were available for a social visit,” he said.

He didn’t stress the word
social
, but nor was it possible to avoid the connotation.

I laughed. “Yes, indeed, I need a break from talking or thinking about business,” I replied.

That seemed to set him at ease.

“May I offer you a drink?”

“Yes, please,” Joanie replied.

He smiled and took her elbow, leading her out on the terrace, where there was a dinner table set for three and a bottle of champagne chilling.

We had a delightful evening. We ate dinner. The food itself was a little bland, but the wine was delectable.

Alejandro was a gracious host. His rich, baritone, voice, English tinged with a soft Mexican accent. He told us about his life. Wealthy parents, youthful dabbles into leftist politics, travel and finally business. He’d been with XCOSA almost twenty years and seen it boom after NAFTA was signed, with factories and assembly plants lining the border.

He and Joanie had a long conversation about her work.

“I always dreamed of writing,” she told him. “But I’m thinking maybe I need to do something else.”

She’d never told me that. But then again, when was the last time I’d given her a real chance to talk about her career?

“No, don’t, you’re too young not to follow your passions.”

“Ah, but what if I don’t have the talent?”

“Talent follows passion, does it not?” He smiled. “Anyway, I am quite sure Kellen would prefer you be happy over anything else.”

I nodded. “That’s true.”

She looked at me hard. “You don’t always seem that way. Not about being happy, but I mean about the writing.”

“I know. I need to be more supportive.”

Though right now, I didn’t know if I could actually support us financially enough to be genuinely supportive of her non-lucrative career. We both went silent. This was yet another discussion we’d been avoiding but really needed to have.

Alejandro laughed, dispelling the tension. “There, it is settled. And now, some port?”

I excused myself to go to the bathroom, feeling suddenly gloomy again. A lovely evening, but the cost of the trip suddenly weighed on me. Why were we here? I had told Joanie this wasn’t about her sleeping with Alejandro, but in the back of my mind I knew I had brought her along to keep that as an option. Just a sick thought, but I couldn’t help myself.

After peeing, I lingered a little to get myself back in a social mood. I glanced at his bookcase. I always loved the way a wall of books looks in a home, and even more the insights it provides into the character of your hosts. In a few years, you won’t even see bookcases, a person’s interests now hidden away as zeros and ones in some portable device.

Alejandro seemed to read mostly fiction, though I didn’t recognize most of the books. A whole work of Spanish-language literature that I barely knew existed. As I scanned the shelf, I noticed a small, dog-eared book at the end of one shelf. Clearly a favorite. I pulled it out partly.

Justine
by the Marquis de Sade. I chuckled. Well, well, our host had some exotic tastes. And then it hit me. The housekeeper with her choker… or was it a collar. I remembered something else. By the door. I turned and approached. Yes. On a hook behind the coat rack, a thin, leather dog leash. But I hadn’t seen any sign of a dog.

I peered back out at Alejandro speaking to my wife. There was something about him that exuded confidence, power. He was wealthy and handsome, but there was more. The kinky bastard was into bondage and domination.

I sat back down with them and sipped my port. Like the wine it was delicious. The relatively lesser quality of the food hinted that Alejandro hadn’t hired his housekeeper just for her housekeeping skills. He might be willing to make some trade offs in return for a quality submissive. Leverage.

I looked at Joanie. My precious little innocent Catholic girl. Feeling so guilty about the past week. I could also tell she liked Alejandro. He was handsome, stylish, interesting.

I know I should have taken her aside, clear it with her. But I knew I couldn’t. I wouldn’t be able to say the words. And anyway, I didn’t want to talk her into it. It had to be her idea as much as mine.

“Are you okay honey?” she asked.

I looked from her to our host and back again. I hesitated. Was I really going to do this?

“Actually, no.” I turned to Alejandro, who was now looking at me curiously. “Alejandro, I hope you don’t mind if I discuss something personal with you.”

I didn’t give him a chance to shoot me down. I plowed on. “Joanie and I have been having some problems. It’s why we decided to get out of town at the last minute. I thought a change of location would help, but I’ve been thinking and I realize that all we’ve done is take our issues on a plane ride.”

“I am not sure what I--” he began.

“You’re a worldly man. Experienced. You’re not married, but I can tell you understand women. Maybe that is why you’re not married?” I proposed.

He looked equal parts surprised and intrigued.

“I know you’ve suggested that I should support my wife. And I try, but does she not owe me some respect as well?”

“I respect you!” Joanie insisted.

“Is that why you sleep with other men?”

She blushed a deep red. She asked, “Kellen, what is this all about?”

There was a rawness to her response that let him know this was for real.

I gave her a quick wink.

“She doesn’t respect me,” I continued, “because I’ve never properly disciplined her.” I saw his nostrils flare at that, just for a moment. His gaze shifted to my wife, suddenly fiery. “I’ve failed her. I’ve been too soft.”

She just stared at me like I’d grown a second head.

“It is not about softness,” Alejandro said. “It is sometimes hard to do what is necessary to those we love.”

“Can you help me?”

“What’s going on?” she demanded exasperated.

I gestured resignedly in her direction.
See what I mean, I can’t control her.

He shifted his gaze from me to her. “Is this true, Joan? Have you been cheating on your husband?”

She shot me an annoyed glance.

He snapped his fingers. She returned her attention to him.

“I asked you a question,” he noted.

She turned to face him and drew herself up proudly, almost as if making my point for me. Her chest heaved, her cleavage seeming to pulse with adrenaline. She didn’t answer immediately. I noticed that he didn’t feel the need to repeat himself, doing so would be a sign of weakness. Finally she broke down.

“Yes,” she replied meekly.

“Do you regret it?”

I could see her eyes twitch, wanting to look again at me, but she didn’t. Her gaze remained looked on his.

“Yes.”

“Why did you do it?”

“I was angry.”

“A tantrum?”
Are you a naughty child who needs to be punished?

She nodded.

He inclined his chin in her direction.

“Yes,” she replied.

He seemed to consider that for a moment. Then he turned back toward me. “Do you understand what you’re asking?”

“Yes,” I replied.

“Well, I don’t,” Joanie snapped. “What are you two talking about?”

“Are you familiar with the notion of the confessional?”

“Yes, I was raised Catholic,” she replied.

“But you do not partake of the Sacrament any longer?”

She shook her head a little awkwardly. “Only on Easter and Christmas.”

He nodded as if he’d expected an answer like that. “Your husband is asking me to hear your sins and then,” his eyes flashed, “devise an appropriate punishment.”

“I still don’t…” and the she got it. “Oh.”

She looked over at me in shock. I gave her a small nod that seemed to do little to reassure her. Still, I could see she was intrigued.

“What kind of punishment?” she asked.

“That is for me to determine and you to suffer.”

I tried to read her expression, but I couldn’t be sure. Was she angry? Excited? Intrigued? Frightened? All of the above? None?

“Come,” he said firmly, and I noticed he’d gotten to his feet and was towering over us. “We should go inside away from the chill.”

He stood above my wife, his hand held out. She looked from him to me, and then slowly, tentatively took his hand and rose from her seat. Then with his hand on her lower back, he confidently led her inside. I followed after.