Karonga, Malawi: Thursday 19th October 2017
Five thirty a.m. and my iPhone’s alarm was trying to raise a weary traveler from his soft and comfy hotel bed. As the hot jets played over my body my mind wandered back over the last day’s events.
After my late night call with Sue, I’d only had six hours sleep before I had to go forth to face the world and the failing project I was here to fix.
As the water refreshed my body and helped me wake, I realized my body was physically shaking with that familiar mix of fear and excitement at the report I was about to hear from Sue. We’d last spoken on Tuesday evening New York time and after a long conversation, I’d given her my blessing to carry on her recently re-kindled affair with Francis.
I knew this arrangement wasn’t without risk. That’s why a big part of me felt so frightened about the conversation I was about to have with her. But the bigger part of me craved the erotic highs and arousal of hearing about what Sue and the handsome doctor had been up. I was eight thousand miles away. Stranded here for three weeks while they were together as a couple in New York for all that time.
During Wednesday I’d tried my best to concentrate on work, but it was a losing battle. My mind kept going back to what was happening in New York between Sue and Francis. I’m honestly not sure if my day-dreaming was my sub-conscious trying to punish or titillate me. Wednesday morning wasn’t too bad. With New York seven hours behind me, I knew everyone in New York was still asleep. But around two-thirty in the afternoon my mind started playing tricks on me. I did the math and realized Sue and Francis might be having a pre-work quickie in Francis’ office.
The rest of Wednesday was pure hell. My mind conjuring up all kinds of images of the two of them taking every opportunity. Sneaking into every stockroom or broom cupboard that might yield them the opportunity to make up for the lost time over the last couple of years. The rational part of my brain told me this was crap. That they were busy, professional people who had no time for this. But the lizard part of my brain conjured all types of pictures and thoughts.
Several times, when my fears reached a particular high, I pulled out my phone and thought about calling Sue and telling her I’d changed my mind. That I couldn’t cope with the thought of her and Francis together. That it was too much for me. But my indecisive nature, plus the practicalities of having such a conversation with six African colleagues around me, meant my phone remained unused.
All of which brought me to this moment. As I dried myself from the shower I tried to calm my shaking body. The hotel’s internet was just about good enough for a SKYPE video call and I realized just how much I was looking forward to seeing Sue’s beautiful face after only a couple of days apart.
Over the course of our marriage, my job had often meant Sue and I might be apart for a few weeks. But knowing Sue was with Francis meant this felt totally different from all those previous occasions. If this was how nervous and mixed-up I felt after a mere two and a half days, I wondered how the hell I’d feel after three whole weeks apart. Knowing that my wife of twenty years was together with Francis. In my absence, acting like husband and wife.
Five thirty finally arrived and I dialed Sue. I felt my heart leap with joy as I saw her smiling face. But even as I felt this happiness, a little voice wondered whether she looked happier than when I’d last seen her. When I’d left her in that cab at JFK. How do we describe it with pregnant women? People say ‘they look blooming’. That was the word that throbbed in my head. Sue looked like she was blooming. A thought that scared and excited me.
“Hi, baby. How are you?” I asked.
“I’m fine. How are you, honey? How was your day?”
And so began to the social pleasantries as we danced around the topic. I’m sure Sue knew that the number one topic on my mind was what she and Francis had been up to. After all, it was now eleven at night for Sue and since we’d last spoken she’d spent a whole day in the same hospital as Francis. And there was every likelihood they’d spent the entire evening together as well. Why wouldn’t they? After all, I was on the other side of the world and their mutual attraction and desire to catch up for missed opportunities was clear.
I talked Sue through my day. She made the required sounds to show me she was listening and at least a little interested. But the more I talked, the more I could tell from her expression that she seemed distracted. So after a few minutes talking about the people I’d met and the project challenges, I took the conversation in a totally different direction.
“But honestly, honey, it was hard to concentrate. Knowing what might be happening back home. Between you and Francis.”
I’ve never been much of a game player. But I thought that, just once, I’d let the comment just hang there and see how Sue responded.
Sue looked embarrassed and blushed a little, immediately making me feel guilty.
“Sorry, honey. I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad. Just being honest with you.” My grin designed to get this across.
“It’s okay, Pete, honey. I guess we’re both still adjusting to the new situation. Takes a bit of getting used to.”
As we inched into it, I finally asked the burning question. “So baby, how was it with Francis today?”
Sue’s blush returned and she paused a little, no doubt struggling to find the right words.
“Good,” came Sue’s one word and slightly embarrassed answer.
Before the call, I’d been shaking with nervous anticipation. But seeing Sue’s continued self-consciousness and nerves, it somehow helped me to relax. Seeing this, I determined to help her relax and feel more at ease.
Hell. It was like we were nervous teenagers out on our first date, rather than a couple who’d been together as man and wife for nearly a quarter of a century.
“Good?” I teased her, trying my best to sound exasperated. “Good? Is that all you’ve got for me? Your loving husband, at great cost to himself, gives you the gift of freedom. And all you’ve got for me is ‘good’? That’s not exactly red meat. How’s a poor, lovelorn, frustrated husband meant to live off scraps like that?”
I was happy to see a broad grin appear on Sue’s beautiful face. She’d always loved my sense of humor. Long ago she’d told me it was one of the reasons she’d fallen in love with me. A time which seemed a lifetime ago now. It was truly strange to think I was now using this same sense of humor that had won her heart to help her relax and tell me about her romantic escapades with another man.
“What red meat exactly do you want to hear about?” she asked, her smile warming my heart.
“How many times?” I’ve always been someone who measures things in numbers. (A therapist might see that as being at the root of my insecurities and this whole lifestyle. How tall? How long? How thick? And now, how many times?)
Still grinning, I could see Sue thinking as she counted. “Six!”
There was a pride in her voice. Like when your kid comes home and tells you how many stars teacher has given them at school.
Six. This number hit me hard. One more than yesterday. I felt a little humbled. I’d never managed more than three times in one day, even when I was younger. And Francis was five years older than me. To make myself feel better I told myself that he was fired up by two years of waiting. That he’d not be able to keep this up.
“Where and when?”
“Oh, you are a glutton for punishment, aren’t you sweetheart,” Sue teased me before replying. “Twice before work, Once at lunchtime and then three times this evening at his place.”
From the background behind Sue, I could tell that she was now back home. I felt a strange mixture of relief and disappointment that Sue was back home for the night, after an evening of love-making with Francis. Relieved because it allowed us some privacy and normalcy as we re-connected. But strangely disappointed, because I was denied the bizarre masochistic pleasure of my wife calling me from the home of another man. Maybe calling me from his bed. A bed they shared, his arm draped around her shoulder as he sat smiling at her side as she chatted with her cuckold husband. No words needed as his smile gently mocked and rammed home his victory and my loss. Knowing he’d won the most intimate and biological of all battles. The battle for the prettiest girl and the right to mate with her. His seed sticky and still warm as it did its work inside his mate. As his mate, my wife chatted away with her husband.
“Pete?”
I had to physically shake my head to snap myself out of my masochistic daydream of Sue calling me from Francis’ bed.
“Sorry, honey. I was somewhere else. It sounds like you had a good time?”
From the look on her face, it seemed Sue didn’t know whether or not I wanted her to answer her question, or it was just a figure of speech. Truth be told, at first I wasn’t sure myself.
There was an awkward pause between us, I think neither knowing what to say next, until my perverted needs reasserted themselves and I nervously spat out my embarrassed question.
“So tell me, Sue, how was it? Was it as good as you remembered from before?”
Just for a moment, a nervous look flitted across Sue’s beautiful face, before her teasing and playful mood took control again. She gave me a broad grin. “Are you sure you really want me to answer that question, husband of mine? Can your fragile male ego handle the truth?”
My throat suddenly went dry on me and I could hardly speak. Sue obviously took this as a yes.
“Well, honey, if you must know, it was wonderful. Francis is a wonderful lover. Well, you know that already, don’t you baby,” she said, pausing for effect and to let the teasing barb sink in. “And yes, it’s even better than before. It’s like buying an expensive bottle of wine and then not opening it for two years. The waiting makes it better. The anticipation.”
Sue paused. I knew her game. She wanted me to speak. To ask my next question. To show me just a bit more of my need and kink. She was happy to feed me the red meat I’d asked for, but she wanted me to do some of the work. To show her my hunger.
“Was he better than me? Bigger than me? Did you enjoy it more?
When Sue had made love with Francis on Sunday night, we’d not talked after as Sue had fallen asleep so quickly. Again, after their five times together on Monday, we’d not discussed how it was. We’d been too busy trying to sort out the car wreck of the miscommunication. So this was the first time in more than two years we’d talked about the superiority of a lover. I was like that cartoon guy in the desert, his tongue hanging out from thirst as he looks at an empty upturned glass. I was that guy as Sue kept me hanging on.
“What a question to ask a lady? To ask your wife?” She beamed. “Well, if you must know, baby, yes. Yes, he was better than you. Bigger than you.”
Just for a half a second she waited, then twisted the knife. “Much better than you, Pete, honey. And also much bigger than you. Much, much bigger than you.”
The male ego is a strange thing. With the safety net of Sue’s love for me, hearing Sue’s clear and emphatic confirmation of how much Francis was much bigger and much better than me gave me a sinking feeling. Matched by a stiffening cock. Go figure.
“Is that what you wanted to here, sweetheart? Was it? Is that what you wanted to hear? That your sweet wife enjoyed sex and making love with a far superior lover. With a far superior man.”
Sue knew the answer to the question. She knew the answer from conversations we’d shared two years ago. And from a lifetime of discussing my fantasies. She was just playing along in our little game.
She didn’t expect me to answer. It was just part of the game. With her wicked grin just a little broader, she continued. “And to think I’ve got another three weeks. Another three weeks playing in the major leagues. Before I have to go back to little league.”
Ouch. That hurt. I didn’t have time to dwell on it or feel sorry for myself as Sue had got into a groove now. “It felt so good, baby, feeling Francis’ huge black cock so deep in me. Pushing at the entrance to my womb. Right next to my cervix. Stretching me so wide. So deep in my tummy.”
“It felt so good wrapping my legs around the small of his back. Trapping him until he’d given me his virile seed. Letting him put my legs up high. Way over his shoulders. Feeling so lewd and vulnerable. On display for my superior black lover. Feeling his skilled medical hands playing with my boobs, getting me all excited and ready for him. Feeling his manhood stroking in and out, with deep and manly thrusts. And best of all, it felt wonderful to kiss this wonderful man. To kiss him as we came together. My body climaxing as he shot his seed deep inside my body. Our mouths locked together as I gave myself to him totally. Nothing held back. All his.”
As Sue’s words drummed into my head I felt cold sweat on my forehead. I felt my cock twitch and harden to a state not natural for a mid-forties guy. A hardness created by the rich description Sue was giving me of her unfaithfulness. Describing in terrifying detail the superiority of her handsome black lover whose bed she’d share for the next three weeks.
My feelings of excitement and anguish had become so overwhelming that I’d had to shut my eyes to try and calm myself. When I finally opened them, I saw a slightly concerned look on Sue’s face.
“Are you okay, honey? Did I go too far?
These were exactly the words I needed to hear from Sue. This was the reassurance I needed. I knew her words were true. But I also needed to know that these truths she’d spoken were wrapped up safely within the safety of our game. This was the exhilaration of sky-diving whilst feeling the reassuring grip of the parachute straps on your shoulders. As opposed to the terror of freefalling without a chute. Her look and words of concern were my comforting parachute.
“Yeah. I’m fine. You know I love to hear about it, but sometimes it’s also a bit intense.”
Sue relaxed and the smile I so loved returned.
“Same time tomorrow, honey?” she asked.
“Yes, that would be great.”
Her smile changed just a little and I detected just a hint of nerves. As if there was something else she wanted to ask me. I waited, wondering what it was but pretty sure it was to do with Francis. It took Sue a few moments to nervously ask her question.
“Honey, would you like it if I slept over at Francis’ place tomorrow night? Would that excite you?”
I smiled inwardly. It was a half dishonest way for Sue to ask the question. The way she asked it, all the focus was on the pleasure it might give me. No recognition at all that she’d love this arrangement. Part of me wanted to play a game. To say no, because of the half-truth. But I’ve never been a game player.
“Yes, baby. I’d like that. But only if you’d like it as well. This isn’t just about my pleasure, honey. It’s about what we both enjoy.”
The look on Sue’s face told me she’d got the message, so I didn’t labor the point anymore.
Our call ended soon afterward and my hotel room suddenly felt a very quiet and lonely place. Hearing the echoed words of our call in my mind I knew that Sue and I were well and truly back on that rollercoaster ride. And from Sue’s last request and my agreement I knew that neither of us seemed that bothered about keeping a hand on the brake lever, let alone actually applying the brakes to keep the ride’s cornering speed within safe limits.
This was the picture going through my mind when I jumped at the sound of my ringing phone.
“Jenny Cell.”
Shit. This was getting to be a habit. What the hell did she want?
It was just before midnight in New York, so why on earth was she ringing me. I felt a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. Surely she should have been busy screwing Sean or some other random guy, rather than making it her mission to find some new way to wind me up.
There was only one way to find out, and so shaking with trepidation I picked up the phone. Wondering what particular brand of gasoline Jenny had in mind to throw on the fire.
