I Want You to Seduce My Husband Ch. 09

Madeline held her thumb on her phone. It unlocked and opened to her home screen. The voicemail icon indicated she had a message waiting.

She had heard the phone ringing earlier, distantly. She missed the call because at that moment she had just finished getting her brains fucked out by Eric, Shelly's tall, bald, and muscular hookup. Madeline had ignored the call, choosing instead to float in the blissful afterglow of her and Eric's fuck session.

Now, while sitting atop the hotel suite's private, in-room, full-sized bar, the voicemail indicator was a stark reminder of her earlier marital infidelity.

Of course, a more current reminder of her marital infidelity was Dave's head. He was sitting on the bar stool in front of her. Both of them were unabashedly naked.

Dave had lifted her legs over each of his shoulders. His face was nestled between her thighs, and his tongue was doing the most exquisite things to her pussy right now!

Madeline tapped her phone, and raised it to her ears. She listened to the voicemail halfheartedly.

Yep. It was Scott, her husband. He had an early morning meeting. He was heading to bed, but if she got home soon, feel free to wake him. Love you.

'Blah, blah, blah,' Madeline thought, weaving her fingers through Dave's hair. She pulled his face toward her and shivered at the feel of his tongue dancing around her clit.

"Oh God, that's it. Right there. Oh my God, right there."

Shelly was in the kitchenette off to her left. Madeline could see her plainly. The buxom blonde had one leg up on the countertop, the other planted firmly on the ground. Eric was fucking her from behind, fast and furious, while Shelly screamed in delirious pleasure.

"Hey, Bartender," Madeline purred. "Why don't you come up here? I'd like to request a special cocktail."

Madeline scooted backwards, then laid down on her back. Dave didn't hesitate. He crawled up atop the bar, and then he crawled up atop her.

*****

It was 3 o'clock in the morning when Shelly's convertible pulled into Madeline's driveway. Both women were worn, exhausted, and completely spent. Shelly laughed as Madeline got out of the car grunting, then laughed louder as she hobbled bowlegged to her front door.

"Shut-up!" Madeline cackled along with her, "You were limping on the way out of the hotel, too!"

"Love you, girl! Let's lounge by the pool tomorrow and recover!"

"Yassssss, Queeeeen!"

*****

The original plan, at the start of tonight's adventures, was to go out with Shelly, have a few drinks, dance with a couple guys, and then come home and be ravished by her husband.

Of course, at this hour, it was much too late to wake him. Madeline didn't think she'd have the strength to do him proper, anyway. And there would be questions: Why she was home so late and where had she been all this time?

She had at least showered at the hotel -- she and Shelly both had. Together, of course. They cleansed the smell of perspiration and sex from their bodies, and then they made out with each other under the cascade of steaming hot water.

The shower had been Shelly's idea. "You know -- just in case either of our husbands are awake when we get home." The girl seemed to know how to prepare for every contingency.

Madeline went upstairs, stripped out of her clothing, and crawled into bed. She didn't cuddle or even touch her husband. She was asleep before her head hit the pillow.

*****

Madeline's bedside alarm went off for the third time, and she slapped the snooze button again.

'So tired,' she thought, through her hazy and muddled brain.

"Mom!" Tommy exclaimed, bursting into her bedroom. "It's a school day. Aren't you going to make me breakfast?"

"Wha-- Huh? Oh, sure baby, I'll be right down. Get all your things packed. Mommy overslept."

Madeline was a stay at home mom. Scott brought in good enough money that they could afford to let her not work. When Thomas was born, they had agreed that she'd stay home, at least until their son was old enough to be left home alone after school. He was nearing that age now, probably past it. Scott hadn't yet raised the topic of her going back to work, and she certainly wasn't about to. She rather enjoyed being a SAHM, especially since Shelly had moved into the neighborhood.

Normally she made it up to both Scott and Thomas, by being a model housewife: hot, nutritious breakfast in the morning, bag lunches made while they ate, house always kept immaculate, lots of after school activities for Thomas, and always a delicious family dinner ready when Scott got home. And, of course, for Hubby, she further made her appreciation known by keeping things active in the bedroom.

Madeline knew from reading women's magazines that an active sex life after twelve years of marriage, especially after having children, was uncommon. Women her age were always writing in for advice on how to bring back the romance.

That had never been a problem for her and Scott. At least, not until a week and a half ago. It had been 10 days since she and Scott last had sex. Yes, she was counting.

"Mooooooooom!" Thomas called impatiently from downstairs.

Madeline sighed and rolled out of bed. She tossed on a bathrobe, and didn't even bother looking at her reflection in the vanity mirror. She didn't need to -- she knew she looked like hell.

Before going downstairs, Madeline peeked in to her son's room, as was her morning habit. The room was a little messy, mostly just clothes strewn on the floor -- certainly it had been worse.

She started picking his clothes up, and putting them in the hamper. As she picked up a sweatshirt, something fell out of it, hitting the floor with a thwap!

It was colorful and glossy. A magazine.

She reached down to pick it up, turning it over to see the front cover: Playboy.

"Honestly," she said, flipping through the pages, "Where does he keep getting these things?"

The models were impossibly beautiful, she thought, and then considered her friend Shelly. Shelly could be a model. Shelly could be a Playboy model. Aside from her stunning good looks, she already had the 'artificial enhancements' that so many of these gals did. Not for the first time that week, Madeline wondered if Scott might consider buying her some fake boobs. She didn't necessarily want larger, just firmer.

Madeline sighed, putting the magazine down while she quickly made her son's bed. She then scooped it up, and brought it back to her bedroom.

She would talk to Scott about it tonight. She had a good idea that it was he who had given their son the last two magazines she had confiscated.

Madeline then went downstairs, to the kitchen. Thomas was already sitting at the kitchen table, waiting for his breakfast. She pulled out the frying pan, a package of shredded cheese, and a carton of eggs.

"Scrambled with cheese?" she asked.

"Yes, please. Can you crunch up some Cheez-Its in my eggs like last time, too?" Thomas requested.

"Sure, honey." Madeline stifled a yawn.

Cheez-Its crumbled in scrambled eggs had become a breakfast favorite for Thomas in the past week. What Madeline didn't realize was that it was less about the crunchy, cheesy snack, and more about the chance to watch his mother stand on tippy-toes, reaching high up to the top most shelf of the cupboard!

As Madeline stretched up for the snack box, she heard a camera shutter clicking. She turned her head in time to see Thomas quickly trying to hide his smartphone under the kitchen table.

"Thomas James Brown!" Madeline scolded, marching over to him. "Hand it over!"

"What?" Thomas tried to play cool, but the realization he'd gotten caught was evident all across his face.

"Give. Me. Your phone!" she commanded.

Thomas hung his head in defeat. He lifted his phone from under the table and handed it to his mother.

Madeline snatched it up, and swiped his screen unlock pattern. She clicked into the photo gallery. The picture was of her, as she expected. What she didn't expect was how attractive she looked. Her auburn hair was a wreck, but it had that "just tumbled out of bed" sexy appeal. Sunlight from the kitchen window streamed through her hair, giving her features an angelic glow. More so, all of her body was radiant.

The camera had captured a side silhouette of her body. She was reaching high in the cupboard, and that had caused her bathrobe to rise up. The bottom curve of her ass cheek was clearly visible. It really wasn't anything more than someone might see if she were at the beach in her swimsuit.

The front half of her bathrobe had opened slightly, too, giving a healthy side glimpse of her left boob. Madeline was all-natural, and often self-conscious about how her boobs collapsed against her chest. But she was rocking this look, and Madeline understood why this photo might have captured a ten year old's attention.

There was nothing perverse about the picture. It's allure was entirely in the hope of what might happen. What might happen if the bottom hem of her short bathrobe rose a few inches higher? What might happen if the front had opened more fully?

"And what were you planning to do with this picture, young man?" Madeline asked, trying to keep that scolding tone in her voice. "No lies, I can see them in your eyes!"

Thomas was trying to look everywhere but his mother's eyes, until she reached down, lifted his chin and held his gaze.

"I was-- I was just going to show it to some of the guys on my team," he said softly.

"Thomas!" she said, crouching down to eye level. "Why would you do that?"

"Be-because a couple of them think you're really pretty."

Madeline's heart melted, and her facial expression softened.

"Honey," she began slowly. "When you take a picture of someone, do you know who that picture belongs to?"

Thomas furled his brow, then shook his head slightly side to side.

"It belongs to the person who is in that photograph. And if you take a picture of a bunch of people, it belongs to all of them. It's private to those people, and you can't share it with anybody. Not without their permission.

"Do you know how you sometimes see pretty girls in a magazine?" Madeline was thinking of her Cosmopolitan or InStyle subscriptions, but from Tommy's suddenly reddening face, she knew he was thinking about the Playboy magazine he had left in his room.

"Well, before the magazine publishers can show those pictures, they have to get permission from the model. She has to sign something that allows them to use her private pictures. The same is true for actors on TV or in movies.

"This is my picture," Madeline said, texting it from his phone to her own. She then deleted both the text thread and the original picture from her son's phone.

"It's private to me. And I want you to remember that for any other pictures you take of other people. You need their permission before you share them."

Madeline handed the phone back to her son.

"Alright, mister?" she asked reproachfully.

"Ok, Mom," he said. "I'll remember."

"Ok, then," Madeline looked up at the kitchen clock. "Mommy overslept, and this little chat means no time for Scrambled Cheez-It Eggs -- I'm going to cook you a Hot Pocket, and then get you off to the bus."

"Sounds great, Mom," Thomas said, eyeing his mother's backside as she retreated to the kitchen.

Madeline didn't notice. She was humming merrily as she tossed a Hot Pocket into the microwave. Thomas didn't realize it, but he had just given her the most wonderful compliment ever.

'Some of the guys think you're really pretty,' she repeated in her head. 'Imagine that!'

*****

Later that morning, Madeline went to grab her phone. She wanted to send Tommy's photograph to Scott, her husband. She had two objectives in mind. One, she wanted to prepare him for the discussion they were going to have about the girly magazines she suspected he had given Thomas, and what behavior that was now leading to on Thomas' part. Two, she hoped it might turn him on.

Madeline was aware that she had let her husband down by not returning home at a reasonable hour last night. It had been 10 days since they had last made love. Tonight, she was determined, to change that!

Only there was a problem. Her phone wasn't in her purse. Nor was it on the kitchen table, her vanity, or any of the usual resting spots. Madeline tried calling her cell phone from the house phone. She listened for several seconds, frowning when she didn't hear her cell phone ring. She dialed Shelly's number next.

"Good morning, honey-bunny! How are you feeling this morning? A little sore and tender still?"

Madeline laughed, "Yes, but don't tell me you're feeling any different."

Shelly laughed, too.

"Yes, but I'm getting a massage soon. That will make me right as rain."

"A massage?" Madeline asked, trying to hide the suspicion from her voice. "What kind of massage?"

In the past 24-hours, Madeline had come to see an entirely new side to her beloved BFF. For the first time in their friendship, she felt like there were things about Shelly's sex life that she, Madeline, had gotten all wrong. Shelly was far more promiscuous than Madeline had believed. Perhaps last night hadn't been the first time Shelly had cheated on her pudgy, overweight husband.

"Ohh, Maddy, I wish you could come with me. I'm getting a deep, deep, DEEP tissue massage."

Just the way she said those words, speaking in a deep, husky voice, confirmed Madeline's suspicions: her best friend was a slut. Last night most certainly had not been the first time she had strayed from her marriage.

"Mmmmmm," Madeline said, "Sounds like heaven."

"Oh, it will be, I'm certain," Shelly sighed.

"I'm jealous. Listen, did I leave my phone in your car last night?"

"Oh, that's right, I'm glad you called. I needed to tell you something," Shelly paused, and Madeline heard a hint of mischievousness in her voice.

"Eric texted me earlier. He found your phone in the hotel suite last night. Said you left it on the bar."

Madeline bonked herself on the forehead with her open palm. Now she remembered placing it there, just after listening to her voicemail from Scott -- and just before inviting Dave to fuck her silly, atop that same bar.

"Eric wanted to deliver it in person," Shelly continued, "so I gave him your address."

"WHAT?! YOU GAVE HIM MY ADDRESS?!?"

"Now Madeline, relax. I told him you were married and that you had a kid. He knows Tommy will be home this afternoon, and that he can't be seen at your house. He said he'd probably swing by around 11am."

"Shelly," Madeline sighed, disappointed in her friend's actions. "I really wish you hadn't given him my address. I don't even know him."

"You know what his cock feels like when he's ramming it inside your pussy," Shelly said playfully, laughing. Madeline had to laugh, too.

"I'm sure he'll just swing by and drop off the phone. If you want, I'll swing by before my massage, and make sure he does just that, nothing else."

"No, it's alright, I'll just deal with it," Madeline said, looking at the clock. If Shelly was right, he'd be here in less than 30 minutes. That really didn't give her much time to get ready.

"Madeline?" Shelly interrupted her thoughts.

"Yes?"

"It will be fun. You'll see."

'No, it won't be,' thought Madeline, 'because nothing is going to happen.'

*****

Madeline looked at her reflection in the full-length bedroom mirror. She wore jeans: tight, curve-fighting, and ripped to show hints of flesh. She also wore a v-neck top. It was a few sizes smaller than it should be, but it (and the push-up bra beneath) gave a favorable impression of her bust line.

She looked fine. Casually scrumptious, in fact.

"Nothing's going to happen," she told her reflection, then looked at the clock on her nightstand. "He's just coming over to drop off my cell phone."

She glanced one more time at the mirror, then quickly started shedding off all of her clothing.

*****

She was sitting on the family room's white leather couch when she heard three knocks on the front door.

'Perfectly punctual,' she thought.

As Madeline strolled across the room, her black, high-heeled Lulus clicked elegantly on the hardwood floor. The hem of her dress swished playfully across her thighs. She now wore a sleek, sexy skater dress, all black, and matching high-heel shoes.

The top was stretch knit, and Madeline had sized it to stretch! Her bosom strained to burst free from the deep V-neckline. She was braless: the open-back dress didn't really permit her to wear one. She was panty-less, too.

Madeline would later tell herself that she had run out of time in selecting an appropriate pair of underwear, so she'd gone without -- but the reality was she had plenty of time. She had been sitting on the leather couch waiting nervously for the last 10 minutes.

And, of course, before leaving the bedroom, Madeline had done one further indecorous act: she had removed her wedding and engagement rings from her fingers, laying them casually on her vanity.

Now, dressed to the nines and strutting confidently toward the front door, Madeline felt sexy, naughty, and incredibly turned on.

Her outfit was certainly too fancy for sitting around the house. This was night club attire. Madeline wasn't sure what she was going to tell Eric if he inquired why she was all dressed up. She'd have to improvise.

Madeline opened the door, and her face lit up at the sight of him on her front stoop.

"Eric, hi!" she said brightly, leaning in for a kiss. Realizing what she was doing, she quickly turned her face, offering Eric her cheek instead of her lips. Eric's hands came comfortably around her waist, and while he only bestowed a chaste and brief kiss, a flutter of excitement coursed through her body.

Madeline looked over his shoulder, to see if any of her neighbors were in view. None were.

"Come in, come in," she encouraged, hoping her voice didn't sound too eager. She closed the door behind him.

"Wow, Madeline," he said, after she had led him into the front room. "I thought you looked good in that white little number last night, but this -- you look amazing."

Madeline flushed at the compliment. Eric, of course, was dressed casually, wearing a polo shirt and jeans.

"Well, Shelly told me that you might be coming over, and ... "

"Right, right," Eric said, reaching into his back pocket, and pulling out her phone. "This was on the bar."

Madeline took the phone, and held it for a moment. She realized in so doing, Eric had made the drop. He didn't really have any reason to linger. He could leave any time.

"Can I offer you something to drink? Water? Sweet tea?"

Eric looked at his watch, and then the front door.

"I don't know. Dave is--" Eric looked up into Madeline's eyes, and almost laughed at her pleading, puppy dog expression.

"You know what? Sure. I could use a glass of water."

"Okay!" Madeline breathed thankfully. She gestured to the couch. "Please, make yourself comfortable. I'll be right back."

Eric watched the sway of her hips as she walked out of the room, her high-heels clacking noisily.

"You've got a fine ass, Madeline Brown," he muttered softly.

Eric took out his own phone, and texted Dave, "Give me twenty minutes."

Eric looked around the front room. It was spacious and open. Large bay windows to his left looked out onto the backyard swimming pool. He could hear Madeline around the corner in what must be the kitchen. Eric presumed the nearby stairs led up to her bedroom. Another side hall presumably went to the garage. It was a typical house in the 'burbs.

The posh, white leather couch was elegant and metropolitan in style. It was staged along the entire periphery of the room in a large L-shape.

"This should do nicely," he said quietly.

A Samsung tablet rested in a cradle on the coffee table in front of him. It was sparse of app icons, but Eric noticed a music icon prominently centered. He tapped it, and Madeline's EDM playlist came into view. Eric thought it looked like a nice list. It was filled with new drops, and some great remixes. He tapped the list, and music started pumping into the room from hidden sound panels.