Saturday, 4pm to Sunday, 4pm.
While we were riding up to our suite, I studied the hotel poster advertising dinner specials. Rex gestured and asked what I would like for supper.

I felt a tad guilty, as if I had violated some kind of moral standard. I had to tell Rex, “Karl and I celebrated our twenty-fifth anniversary here.”

I didn’t tell him that what we had eaten was the advertised special tonight.

Instead I said, “We have so much food from your wonderful picnic... shame to waste it. Let’s picnic on your patio. Maybe order another bottle of wine?”

Was I feeling guilty? Maybe. Was I remorseful? Not at all. I was determined to enjoy the whole experience. Having the same meal as on our anniversary would have been over the top and definitely a buzz-kill. I was thinking about Karl.

I wondered, “Am I normal to think about my husband back at home?”

Rex has this disarming trait of lively conversation on one topic then quickly changing to a serious subject. He did it again!
Rex first focused on our picnic, “How should we dress? Street clothes? I think jammies. Maybe I can find a way to build a little fire. Would the hotel have a hibachi we can borrow? I can certainly find some candles to enhance the campfire mood. We can spread the picnic blankets out, too.”

Then, as we got off the elevator, he shifted subject. “We need to speak with Karl about our plans. I will take care of 90% of it; all you need to do is get Karl to invite me into your home Sunday. I will then take over.”

He reasoned, “Karl introduced us to the idea of you having an affair; he encouraged us in the bar. He did nothing to stop us from going out on a date today. Karl is equally responsible. Don’t you agree?”

I was honest. “I am having a wonderful time. My husband knows where I am and what I am doing.”

I wondered and asked outright, “Are we talking about extending this romance?”

Rex was evasive. “It is not a romance in the usual sense. I do not intend to steal you from Karl, just borrow you.” That reply calmed me.

When we opened the door and walked into our suite I was still thinking more about Karl than about Rex. I instinctively reached for my cell. Rex asked if I needed privacy to talk with Karl. Of course, what I needed to say could not have been uttered in a hotel lobby. Some of the things I had to say to Karl I might not want Rex to hear.

Then my outburst. "Dammit! Phone still not working."

I needed to talk to my husband. I was forced to use the house phone in the sitting room.

Karl's first questions (again) were whether I was safe (yes) and if I was happy (yes, indeed). I told Karl about our picnic and the drive and the hotel. I got the feeling I could have told him everything we did and he would have understood.

Karl seemed to acquiesce to this new situation. He can be bold, brave and willing to take chances. He was a pilot, for heaven’s sake. But he also has this other side.

“All that matters is that you are happy.”

I corrected him by saying, “Your happiness and satisfaction is just as important as mine.”

I felt I had to continue, “There is another man that I had sex with, Karl. I liked it more than I thought I would. That doesn't mean I love you less. I still love you, my husband, and want to spend the rest of my life with you. But I need this, I really do. Please understand and don’t judge me.”

All I got was, “Umm.” Then he went quiet.

I switched subjects and asked him about his day and plans for the evening. He'd done some yard work and shopping. He was very interested in some mural in the hotel lobby. I had not noticed it. Plan A was that he would watch the new season opener of our favorite Game of Crowns drama, a two-hour special tonight.

I countered, “Wait, record it. We can watch it together, as we always do. We will be home Sunday.”

“We?” Karl sounded surprised.

I said, “I want Rex to see my genealogical chart and how I combined my National Geographic DNA testing with my mom's family history. Rex wants to see your MGB trophies and your garage.”

This was the touchy part. “Rex is old-fashioned and will not come inside unless you, the Man of the House, invite him.”

Would Karl play host? Rex must have been listening, because he walked into the sitting room right then. I handed the phone to Rex.

All I heard then is Rex's side of the conversation. Karl filled me in on his side of the conversation, when we spoke together about this whole affair on Tuesday.

Rex started in jovial mood, "Hey, Karl, good evening. Listen, I want to thank you again for giving me some time with your wife. You are such fortunate husband. She is all one would want in a wife.”

Pause. “No. Absolutely not! I, in no way want, need or could support a wife. Even one as brilliant as yours.”

Rex heaped on my praise. “I am amazed at how quick-witted she is and agile too. Spritely, nimble.”

Long pause.

Rex continued, “I have no intention of taking her away from you. I lost my wife ten years ago and have no plans to re-marry.”

Rex changed the subject. “We marveled at the serendipity of Clair’s and my ancestors coming from the same town in the old country. I wonder if, a hundred years ago, her family knew my family.”

He cut to the chase. “Clair said that you needed to ask me something, an invitation tomorrow afternoon?”

Karl must have invited him, based on what I heard Rex say next.

“Uh, yes. Thank you for the invitation. I look forward to it. We should be there by three or so.”

Rex’s next part was rough for me to hear. “And she fucks like a mink. Not at all squeamish, either. Does she swallow all your cum? She missed a bit of mine this morning and I had to take my dick and rub the spillage from both cheeks back into her mouth. She licked it up, though.”

I did not hear Karl, but he told me later he had replied, “I truly don’t want to hear about your conquests, Rex. This is just one more lady you seduced, so leave it at that.”

I doubt Karl was lying when he told me his side on Tuesday night.

I was about to faint at Rex’s frankness. “They called me beer can in college, for obvious reasons, and she can take all I got. I have trouble holding back because her cunt is so tight. She is going to tell you that her cunt belongs to me now. Anyone else who fucks her will have to wear a rubber. You understand, don’t you? Only the alpha male can cum in her.”

The teasing continued. “I cannot promise she will be as tight when you get her back. I haven't fucked her in the ass yet, but she is willing."

There was a pregnant pause.

I didn’t hear Karl say, “Bullshit! Clair is having a mid-life crisis. She wants to experiment. There is more to her and more to us than you can imagine. I have no choice but to watch her do this, but we have built a mountain of love and mutual respect over the years. Don’t think you can interfere with that. If she lets you fuck her, fuck her good. But don’t fuck up our marriage. And you’d better be clean because I will be insisting she get tested the day she comes back to me.”

Again, I do not doubt my husband’s report or sincerity.

Rex’s voice sounded soothing, perhaps even patronizing. “Don’t worry. You will get another chance to watch her, believe me.”

They hung up. I got it. Rex used the same technique on Karl that he had used on me in the elevator. Jaunty, friendly, disarming banter in one breath and heavy-duty Rex-created plot next.

Rex said I would have to hurry to make my spa appointment. He had arranged a soak, full body massage, pedicure, and manicure and make-up session.

He insisted and said that he had to spend his expense account money. "Like sex after fifty, use it or lose it." So generous, he is!

'Pampered' does not even come close to the treatments I got. I reveled in the luxury. I remembered that this was still the Saturday that allowed me no sleep until after two am; up at dawn and a full day with Rex.

I dozed through the massage. I kept myself awake during the long, lingering bath in some kind of salts. Standing salt sponge was next. I always marvel at how hot hotel hot water can be, so refreshing. A cart arrived with tea and cookies. The manicure lady and the pedicure lady fussed over me longer than my regular people. Finally, the make-up technician concocted a brew that she claimed would keep wrinkles, sags and blemishes at bay. I sure hoped it would work, because I dreaded Rex seeing me Sunday morning, if he got to the bathroom before me.

Moonlight picnic dinner was fantastic: ciabatta was still fresh, the wine chilled, not enough breeze to snuff the candles. Rex ordered a fruit tray and we took that back inside. Sorry, no hibachi!

I asked Rex, “Are we AFO?”

“For now. Tomorrow is another day.” I nodded my head in agreement.

We settled on the king-size bed. Typical, the man got to the remote before I could. He watched TV; I watched him.

He stopped scrolling at the channel just starting the premier of ‘our show.' Rex started asking questions about ‘Game of Crowns’ plot.

I dropped a piece of fruit into the champagne, sipped, finished the flute, and relaxed. I exhaled and started to doze.

“How did men, even the almost naked ones, get around in those costumes?” He was wide awake and talkative.

“What? I’m sorry. I was almost asleep.” I yawned.

Rex was animated about Game of Crowns and would not leave me alone. “Who was this character? How does the younger bucks/old men conflict get resolved? Why so many tribes and mini-dramas in the same show? Were wives that frisky then, like they are now?”

My sleepy response did not shut him up. I said, “Men and women were just as promiscuous then as they are now. Some spouses mind; some don’t.”

I don’t know if Rex was linking our liaison to a plot on TV, or just curious.

I tried to answer all his questions and the follow-ups as well. We watched the whole show, two hours' worth. We fell asleep with the TV on: no sex, just spooning.

I awoke to voices from the sitting room. Rex was watching the Sunday morning news shows. I peeked in.

I quickly swished with mouthwash, peed, put on some make-up and opened the bathroom door. It took me less time than usual to be ‘presentable.’

Now Rex is watching porn! A tall, lithesome long-haired blonde was sucking on a man's dick.

She rubbed his long dick between her tits and asked the cameraman, “Zoom in on these protruding dick veins. Can you catch the blue hue against my white tits?”

He zoomed in on the guy’s member. It was impressive. I heard the cameraman grunt or sigh or something unintelligible.

She took the head in her mouth and popped off of it, as if it were a Popsicle. Hmms and ahhs comments followed. She called the cameraman “hubby” and told him she was going to stick a finger in her man's asshole. She said "asshole" plain as day. Then she put her finger in and worked it around.

The guy started thrusting up, waving his dick in her face. She caught the monster-sized tool with her mouth and sucked some more. Occasionally, she was stern with the camera, “Are you getting all of this?”

She put both hands around her lover's dick and still had room to suck him off. I whispered to Rex that he could be a porn star as well, because his dick was longer.

I told Rex, “I might claim your dick as my own, as you want to claim my cunt.”

She told her lover to lie flat on the bed. She straddled his face and told him to ‘start.'

He started slowly, very slowly. She fitted a pillow under his head to make her cunt easier to reach. Her hips moved back and forth, on his face and tongue. This young woman started to move her hips faster and faster. She was humping him.

“That’s déjà vu from yesterday on the picnic, but with the roles reversed,” I said.

Rex was fixated on the screen. He whispered, “Exactly.”

I warned Rex, “I will be as gentle with you as you were with me: not very.”

Finally, the lady was ready. She directed the cameraman, “Come closer.”

She moved around and straddled him, facing away from her lover. Later, Rex told me it was the reverse-cowgirl position.

She told the cameraman, “Hold the camera with one hand and take my guy's dick in the other; put it inside me.”

He did as he was told.

She lowered her body onto her lover’s dick. You could see the cameraman's hand shaking on the guy's dick. You could see his hand gripping and pulling on the thick dick he held under her pussy.

She proceeded to tell the cameraman, “God, my cunt feels so good. Look how it stretches me. I can feel the flared head. He is bottoming out.”

The actress moved her hips again, fast, just like she had done on her lover’s face.

To the man she was fucking she said, “Sorry but I have to Jill-off too.” She sat up, erect on that massive trunk and patted her pussy with her fingers. She screamed at how good the guy made her feel. Her lover started to slap her ass. They had a rhythm of slaps, front and back. Finally, they collapsed in a heap.

I admit that film made me hot. Rex then reached over the side of the couch and pulled out a video camera and put it on the table. He said one word, "Improvise!"

I am not as photogenic or skilled as that porn star, but Rex was making me do things I had never done before. I needed a director to get it right, but I did the best I could. Rex did his best to act and partially direct.

He told me, “Talk to the camera about your cunt, my balls, what my cum tastes like. Say you can never give up fucking me.”

Rex said he had set up the camera’s remote control buttons to zoom, pan and move up and down. Actually, it looked like the TV remote.

Rex was role-playing. “Oh, God. You think this is a real camera. It’s just a toy. Don’t you and Karl do any role-playing, sex games at all?”

Rex tossed the camera against the wall and it bounced like the plastic/rubber toy it was. He put it back on the table, saying, “No film in the camera, but let’s have some fun.”

So Rex likes to play games. OK. I will play along.

I reiterated my whim to claim Rex's long pole as my own. I asked the pretend cameraman, “Are you getting hard? Can you make it through the shoot without shooting in your pants?” I actually used a pun while sexually aroused and I did not lose my high at all. Sex was actually fun.

Rex reminded me to smile and look right at the cameraman. I improvised.

I told the cameraman, “I am going to fuck you as well, and maybe better than I fuck Rex. I am going to give my cunt to whomever I please, as often as I want.”

Near the end of our love-making (yes, it was that exactly), I told Rex to lie down, face up. I straddled his face, shoved a pillow behind his head. I commanded him to “eat me out.”

Rex did as he was told, even stopping to remark to the cameraman how sweet I tasted.

Neither of us could get our breath for a few minutes afterwards. We worked up a sweat and an appetite. Role-playing and new positions like reverse cowgirl are something to try with Karl.

I asked Rex, “When I try reverse cowgirl with Karl, won’t he know where I learned it?”

“You can say you saw it in a video, which is true. Or you can say we tried it. If Karl flinches, point out new positions are another advantage of having a husband and a lover.” That answer was perfect.

The sex over the last two days had been so intense, I didn't want it to stop. Of course, we couldn't stay on the mountain top forever, but the view sure was great from here now.

Rex suggested we go for breakfast in the Dining Room where the chef is internationally renowned.

“I don’t want to be seen having Sunday brunch in a hotel in my home town with a man not my husband.” I had to be firm on that.

Rex said, “I already have it set up. Follow me.”

We got off the elevator at the Mezzanine. We walked to a pair of closed doors, opened them onto a dining area above the restaurant proper. The maître d appeared and led us to an alcove. No one could see us unless they gained access to the floor and searched.

Gourmet food and mimosas. I could get used to the waiter hovering, the fine china, real silver and cloth napkins. We ate like couple we were becoming: nibbling, talking, sharing food from one plate to another, reading parts of the Sunday paper to each other.

I was packed and ready to go by two pm. I missed my husband and my house, believe it or not.

Rex said, “You drive.”

Smart guy! The garage door remote control was handy but not needed. Karl planned ahead and left the garage door open. Nosy neighbors would be suspicious if a stranger were to drive me up in our MGB and park it out front.

I thought, "No need to scare the horses, yet".

My biggest fear when I hit the close button on the garage door remote was that Karl was drinking or drunk. I did an audible sigh of relief when he came into the garage looking clean, neat, sober, chipper.

My share of the house tour took less than I thought. Rex did know some history of my great grandparents’ locale. Karl followed us for part of it, then went off to do something else. Rex made a point of putting his arm around me and drawing me close. He didn't try to feel me up. I think he was trying to hold on to me as long as he could and show me that, even in my own house, he had a claim on my body.

Karl showed Rex his room with the trophies and Morris Garage collectibles; then they went into the garage. Karl showed Rex how he oiled the SU carburetors, whatever that means. Both said they needed oiling, given the mileage we had put on the car.

In the den, I put out some crackers and cheese and opened the bottle of chilled wine. I settled on the loveseat. When my men returned, Rex made a point of engineering the seating arrangements: he sat beside me. Karl was alone, on his easy chair; Rex and I faced him, on the loveseat.

Silence.

Rex broke the ice. He put his arm around me, rubbed the underside of my tit and tweaked it. I moved closer and put my hand on his leg and started to stroke it. Karl was startled.

Rex blatantly asked, “Karl, how do you feel about what is going on?”

Karl hemmed and hawed, not able to express himself.

“I… I want Clair to be happy. I know she is attractive and draws men to her. I had some flings in the past (news to the Mrs!) and can’t judge her harshly. What is done can’t be undone. I believe her when she says she wants to stay married. So do I.”

Rex again thanked Karl. My new lover reminded Karl, “This was your idea to begin with.”

He spoke in a clear, crisp tone, spelling it out like an ambassador explaining the terms of a treaty to someone whose native language was not English. Rex reminded him that his wife was a strikingly sensuous person who needed more than he, Karl was able to deliver.

Rex said, “Karl, you two can never go back to the way things were. Clair’s cunt now belongs to me.”

I stirred, but I did not object.

Rex reminded Karl, “Clair is too young to go without climaxing on a regular basis. She needs someone who will satisfy her. When Clair made the decision to have another lover, she became empowered by the knowledge that she is still desirable. She will be more outgoing, sure of herself.”

Rex leaned in toward Karl. “You will see her socialize more, engage men in conversation more easily. You must accept and even encourage her to be her new self. You say you want her to be happy. Do what I suggest and you both will be happier, more sexually satisfied too.”

What a summation Rex delivered. He seemed distracted for a moment. He reached for his cellphone, as if it had been on vibrate. He shrugged, pushed a button and resumed.

“Karl, a man should know who his wife’s lover is. The alternative would be to go through life suspicious, doubtful of where she went and what kind of diseases she might come home with. Now that she has had sex outside marriage, she won’t stop. Women never do. She may claim to be faithful, but you won’t be able to trust her.”

He finished with a promise. “With me, I am an open book. Feel free to ask me anything and I will tell you the truth.”

The home phone rang.

Karl always puts the button on 'speaker' to answer. Too bad this time. It was Rex's assistant. I recognized the lady's voice as the fake cellphone agent. On speaker-phone she said, “This is Mr. Gold’s secretary. Please inform him his car is out front.”

Rex promised to call me before leaving town and then he was gone.

I guessed correctly that my phone would be working again.