Wife's Trip to New York

In admiration for the writing of rha spike Would that I could write as good an erotic scene as he.

Karen Bernier was having a seven year itch. She and Christopher were a couple for two years and married for five. Normally couples by this time are starting to have children, but after trying, Karen found out she is sterile. Bad eggs and other problems meant even an embryo transplant had no chance of success. Amid the teary nights that followed, they swore their vows of eternal love to each other, and said they would look into adopting.

Neither were sure about adopting, it was a big decision, so they put it off. With children off the menu of life, Karen realized that rather than her life moving forward with courtship, husband, children, grandchildren, she was stalled with the husband stage. Husbands were very good when it came to raising children, but that wasn't going to happen. Sure they could adopt children, but frankly she didn't want to raise someone else's brats. Her life was in a rut. Same old, same old. Is that all there is? Nothing to look forward to?

She had always liked murder mysteries, and got interested in the plots, and how clever detectives, like Nero Wolf and Precious Ramotswe unraveled them by the power of their mind. She even tried her hand at writing one, but it was obvious even to her, that writing was not among her talents.

Should you be able to ply her with truth serum, she would have denied she wanted to have an affair, even though in fact she was intensely planning one in her mind, working out just how a woman should to go about it, like a murder mystery writer thinking up a plot.

She didn't want a stranger. For one thing, they might turn out to be a nut case and rape her, or follow her around or something. Another risk was that the gentleman would fall in love with her and that would be trouble. She read that ending an affair and ridding oneself of the unwelcome lover is often harder to do than starting the affair in the first place. Certainly it could be no one where she worked. Never shit where you eat! That was good advice paraphrased right from the bible. Aside from that, there were no good prospects at work, too old, too fat, or too...whatever. No one appealed.

Likewise, It couldn't be anyone in the town where they lived. Too much chance of running into them in the grocery store, or someone seeing them together. Maybe a stranger was better after all. But it would have to be the right sort of stranger, someone suitable who was well spoken and intelligent. Maybe a businessman in a suit at the Marriot. Or an airline pilot. They come and go. But still, sexual predators wear suits as well as work boots, don't they.

Communication was another problem. The work e mail account was no good because those geeky kids that maintained the computers could read all of the e mails, so nothing doing there. Too dangerous. Her husband could see her cell phone calls if he cared to look, and on the home computer, he had the password to her e-mail accounts. Fortunately he was not a techie, so he wouldn't know about those key stroke recording programs. But maybe a secret account, she could log on to at the library, or anywhere! Just for fun, she set up a secret (from her husband) e mail account. She felt so clandestine!

When thinking about sex, imagined sex is the most exciting of all because everything would be perfect, sort of like masturbation, the stroke is exactly how you want it, and where you want it. Imaging sex with a lover turned her on. Chris, her husband, was the cock at hand and a most willing recipient of all of her lust as she imagined him being various fantasy lovers. He was most pleased with the boost to his sex life, oddly not so much for the sex itself, but as a sign that the depression that laid his wife low when they learned theirs would be a barren marriage had lifted. After some difficult months, he had the old Karen back, but a bit less inhibited in bed, and more willing than ever.

Chris had begun to consider how long he would stand by a miserable depressed wife who show no inclination to rise up and rejoin the world. It had been a tough two years, and while not yet back to normal, life with Karen was bearable for now, with at least a hope of getting better.

Unfortunately sex with Chris wasn't working out so well for her because he was so predictable. Her lovers did all sorts of things without her asking them. Stuff that she couldn't really ask anyone to do, because...well because it was disgusting, some of it. Of course imaginary lovers would know what she really wanted, and Chris fell very short in the mind reading department. Oddly Karen didn't really consider that no one else could read her mind either. And she could do things with a lover, like tongue their butt, because they would be gone in a few months. Do that to Chris, who would be there forever, and he'd expect it ever week! Well it was great good fun to think big bad thoughts.

That Spring Karen made a trip back home by herself staying with her mom. She ran into Roy O'Brian, an old friend from high school. They were in the supermarket, started talking in front of the meat case, and continued their talk over a cup of coffee at the Holyoke Range Coffee shop. Just to catch up on old times, of course. Nothing more! She smiled at the little shiver she felt inside when Roy was talking. They had dated a few times in school, but honestly she couldn't really remember who called it off, but thought she lost him to another girl.

Looking back now, she wondered if she had been too shy and too slow in granting sexual favors. She vaguely knew his wife, but couldn't picture her. They ran in different groups back in school.

As she sipped coffee, she appreciated that Roy was eye candy. He had lovely soft hands, with long thin fingers. Looking at the veins and tendons on the back of his hands seemed like an intimate moment to her, allowing her to see inside him, beneath the skin. He dressed very well, and wore what her husband once disparagingly referred to as a Yasser Arafat beard. She had to look up Yasser Arafat on line, and saw that he was a fat old man with a five or ten day growth of beard on his face surrounding purple lips. Ugh! Roy looked hot! Like the models in the magazines, and she was thinking how manly the short beard would feel...on her cheeks and thighs.

He was delighted to hear she was living outside of Philadelphia. His job took him there about once a month. 'Of course! Let us know when you're going to be in town. Chris and I would love to have to have you over for dinner.' All on the up and up, mentioning her husband like that, but when they parted, it was her secret e mail account and work phone number she gave him. She hadn't admitted to herself that she wanted to fuck him, but for sure, Roy wasn't getting anywhere near her husband.

All her planning and day dreaming on how to conduct the perfect affair, one that her husband wouldn't-couldn't find out about, was but a tool to her will. She was like Cheney with a war plan too good to be true.

Chris was delighted when she returned with a wanton lust that lasted two days, and a third screwing later in the week. He noticed and wondered what stirred her up. He'd have her do it again, if he knew what it was. Ignorance is so blissful.

Chris and Karen, like most couples, sit around at the end of the work day talking. Earth saving ideas aren't discussed, nor new ways to make pot roast. They talk about ordinary stuff, how was your day...what did you do today...were we going to you mothers Friday night? The bonding that married people share. Tonight was no exception. Her news:

"We got a pep talk about team building at work you know? How we should do things once in a while as a group, some shared activity outside of work. Relax with one another and have time to chat without the computers and phones beeping and ringing."

"Sounds like a good idea. Radical in fact. Just think, two three hours with your cell phone off! Us middle managers at my place go to lunch once a week. It's half business, and three quarters bullshit."

"Well, sure, but they aren't talking about just a lunch."

"You mean a weekend of wilderness boot camp, with naked paint ball games and topless bungee cord diving?"

"Oh I could just see that. Margie's tits would fly past her nose at the bottom, and slap her naval when they sprung back! No, nothing that might be fun. We're suppose to go out to dinner and hang out together somewhere. Probably a restaurant with a bar. Our company's so cheap, won't even pay a nickel towards it. Anyway, we all thought we would try next Thursday. I'd like to go if you don't mind. It'll be in the city, so I'll stay down there and probably be home about 9?"

"Oh by all means, go! You'll have a good time once you get going. Why on earth not?"

They continued to chat on this and that until Karen went into the family room to watch her TV show, and he went down cellar to the wood shop. He was not worried, but got to thinking. Something was off in that conversation, but he couldn't put his finger on it. Most of his attention was taken by the current, rather ambitious project of carving a large sea horse weathervane, a task that was taking months, considering such time as he had to spend on it. One thought came to his mind.

The wife didn't tell him she had to go, or that she was going. She asked if he didn't mind her going. To a work function! If it were really work related, an adult would just say 'This Thursday I have to go to this team building blah blah and I'll be home about nine.' No questions may I go or do you mind. In fact as far as he could recall in all the years of this marriage, the only things they asked each other for permission on were about the discretionary things. 'I'd like to go to the movies this weekend; anything on you'd like to see? '

He once worked with a scum bag who would ignore you most days, but then one day greet you warmly saying: 'Good morning Chris! How are you?' and Chris would wonder 'What did he mean by that?' And now he found himself wondering 'What did she mean by that?

Of course he was totally wrong, it really was a work function exactly as she described it. What he picked up on was subliminal.

Well it was little enough for him to worry about. It probably was a good idea. Her company was slowly sinking into oblivion as a result of poor management, and the corporate bosses liked to shift the work structure around, changing lines of command, responsibilities and such. It gave the appearance of improving things without actually changing the short term thinking and the extraction of unsustainable profits that was causing the business to dry up.

Karen had recently got an internal transfer and changed work groups, mostly people she hadn't worked with before, so she really didn't know them very well, and as a consequence Chris hadn't met any of them. He was having trouble keeping the names straight when she talked about them.

That Thursday, she got home from her work group dinner at 8:30 PM. Faint smell of beer, but quite sober. They had a long chat, well she chatted, and Chris listened. Who said and did what. The upshot was she thought it was a waste of time, and wished she could duck it in the future.

Meanwhile, Karen and Roy had been e-mailing a storm. They blithely told each other all sorts of details about their lives. Initially just drivel; do you drive too fast? What god should do to punish road hogs, Prius drivers, and women who comb their hair while they drive. Movies they liked or hated. Sex only intruded in humorous bits and puns. It was just the sort of thing a couple talks about when they are laying the ground work for their developing relationship.

Within a week, their conversation moved on to the dangerous subject of their marriages. Both professed great love and respect for their spouses, followed by the qualifing BUT. The complaints started out about mundane stuff that's annoying. She leaves banana peels in the sink instead of putting them in the trash, he leaves the kitchen cabinet doors open, little stuff.

After a couple of days it escalated to not so trivial stuff. 'She often comes home claiming to be really tired, so I know not to even hint about wanting sex.' 'He likes to grope me in the kitchen when I am doing something very unsexy, like making meatballs with my hands gunked up with raw egg and meat bits.'

How serious these petty bitches really were was not a matter of debate, as neither had actually bothered to discuss their supposed dissatisfactions with their own spouse, which might have improved the situation so it was no longer an irritant. Plus its human nature, when exchanging complaints, to exaggerate the problem so as to equal or top what the other person said. Some of the complaints were made up out of whole cloth.

A lot of marriage is respect for the other. Disparagement tends to break that respect and therefore weaken the marriage. It increases dissatisfaction, creates estrangement, and makes breaking up more a more acceptable outcome. It's easy to build resentment if reality is compared with fantasy. Worst of all in relaying these things they kept from their spouses, they were committing emotional adultery.

Part of an honest relationship is the willingness to tell the other party what they could do to better please you. Of course they may not be willing to do it, but it tells them something about you they probably didn't know, and tells you something about them.

Roy wanted to meet her for a long lunch while he was in town next week. She agreed. They would meet at a restaurant near his hotel, and far from her work place. It was a great success, perhaps because she had to get back to work promptly, so there wasn't time for much besides lunch. Besides, at that point, she wasn't ready to let it go too far. She touched his arm or hand from time to time...he responded, and towards the end they held hands, and in a full body hug, they kissed on closed lips when they parted.

Karen was delighted! A lovely man wanted her 'in that way!' For the first time in many years, she had a, well...what she once would have called a boyfriend. When she got home, in bed with the lights out, it was Roy whose cock she was licking, and Roy who she encouraged to give her a vigorous fucking. And in the afterglow of good sex, it was Chris she spooned with and slept beside.

They planned to meet again, next month, in the hotel. She was planning to use the Thursday night work group night out as cover, but It didn't happen quite that way.

The day before their tryst in the late afternoon, Karen found out that a big corporate guy from Germany was visiting, and wonder of wonders, her work group night out was held up as an example of the esprit de corps her idiot boss had promoted. The German wanted to attend. Talk to real people. Shit! It went from something she could easily duck to a 'must attend'.

She called Roy, they arranged for a longish lunch date. He suggested a picnic in a park, he would bring the food to save time, over and done with in an hour and a quarter tops. She could make that much time, maybe a little more. Philadelphia is famous for subs, made with breads from artesian bakeries and meats that match those found in Italy. He was in South Philly and picked up one of these wonders, and some cherry poppers, which are actually cherry peppers stuffed with fresh mozzarella, and a couple of bottles of water to wash it all down as Karen didn't drink sodas or alcohol during the day. She left work 15 minutes early, which lessened the likelihood she would be seen by coworkers getting into his car.

Out the office door ten steps into his huge SUV. Had the weather been nice, probably nothing would have happened. But it was cold and wet. Roy drove to a city park along the Delaware River, parked in the empty lot, and shut off the fresh air into the car, so as they ate lunch, the cold windows would fog over.

It was like old times, seat belts off, sitting together in a very warm car in shirtsleeves, sharing good food and good company. The eating lasted about ten minutes. It was natural for him slide over next to her, put an arm around her and nuzzle her face in a prelude to a kiss. Had the weather been fine, she would have stopped him right there. Karen certainly knew enough not to risk getting caught snogging someone in public especially someone who was not her husband.

To make it more intimate, a rain squall struck the parked car just then, causing it to tremble a bit from the rain gusts, causing her to notice that she was trembling with excitement.
She couldn't see out the window, so certainly no one could see in, and besides, who would be standing around out there in a driving cold rain? She giggled and mentioned it was like the high poster beds in the old days. Draw the curtains and you were snug and warm in your own little world.

Their first kiss began as a brushing of the lips, with a nibble here and there. His free hand was caressing her cheek and the back of her neck. That beard wasn't as scratchy as she had imagined, and certainly felt nothing like her smooth shaven husband. The kiss continued, lips opened, and while his hand remained on her cheek, his arm dropped so that as his hand petted her face, his fore arm was rubbing her tit. It seemed incidental to Karen, but nothing he did was without purpose. It wasn't as though he grabbed a tit and twisted a nipple. He had skillfully escalated the pace, and keeping her in her comfort zone.

With most women, certainly with Karen, it's important to make them feel they are in charge of the sexual progress. Her hand went to his chest, as she felt the firm muscles there. He accepted this mile escalation and unbuttoned the top few buttons of her blouse, but his hand stayed high on her chest stroking her collar bones and upper ribs to her neck. An intimate advance, just a small escalation. Pointedly not on her tits. When their jaws dropped to let the tongues go into a French kiss, Karen glanced again at the fogged window, confirmed their privacy, closed her eyes, and her hand slid down into his lap and felt his cock.

That was the signal! The bells rang and the gate opened and they were off. In short order, her blouse was undone, Roy was delighted to see she chose a bra that unhooked from the front, and her lovely breasts spilled out into his hands.

Karen was re-living High School. Making out in a car with a new boy for the first time in years. In fact she and Roy had done this much years ago. Well, they were past what she actually allowed Roy then. For her part, she opened his shirt, and ran her hands inside, feeling his nearly hairless skin and hard little nipples. He moved his kiss from her lips down her throat to her breasts, and teased with his nibbling lips and breath around her nipple.

When he sucked one in and bit with his lips covering his teeth, she gasped and bucked her hips up. As he continued to fondle her breast, and suck and nibble her nipples, his free hand started up her leg. She opened them a bit, rewarding his touch, but her skirt was too long and too tight. She was a manager, and management in this company did not wear short skirts. Roy broke the silence:

"You best slip you skirt off so it doesn't get wrinkled."

She blithely un-zipped it, and lifted her ass so he could slide it down her bare legs. In so doing, saving time, he also slid her thong off as well. Freed of any barrier, his hand cupped her pussy, and his mouth was back to her breasts. Karen had laid back in surrender, and had her hands around his neck. Without thinking, she directed his mouth. He licked his hand to add to the moisture between her legs, and she began moving under his fingers. Her clitoris was swollen along with her outer lips. Roy was sending her higher and higher.