What Happened?

It was gone midnight when you came in. I expected you to be late but of course, I waited up in bed for you.

"Well?" I asked eagerly as you came into the bedroom, looking every bit as seductive as when he picked you up a few hours earlier. You just slipped off your black leather boots and let your wrap-over dress fall open, before easing it off your shoulders and onto the floor.

There was no attempt to remove your sheer black tights or lacy black body that you'd bought especially for him, as you eased yourself into our bed and cuddled into me; a nice, child-like cuddle as you laid your head softly onto my chest. "Can I tell you tomorrow?" you softly whispered. "It's been a long and tiring night," you muttered as you instantly fell into a long and well-deserved sleep.

I was aching with desperation to hear all about your first meeting with him but it could wait until the morning. I'd waited so many years for you to give yourself to another man in the way that only I have enjoyed for over twenty years, so another few hours of waiting could do no harm.

It had felt amazing to receive your text at 9 pm, just confirming that you were now alone in his hotel room. I'd wanted to receive another text or two but it wasn't to be. You must have been very busy!

Your breathing was quite heavy as you slept; the kind of breathing that's particular to you when you're really, really tired. You were in such a deep sleep so very quickly.

As I stroked your soft blonde hair, my curiosity kicked in. I began to wonder if he'd stroked your hair tenderly at any time. Perhaps when you were alone for the first time as you kissed passionately. Or maybe he ran his fingers through its full length, as you lay back and took his full length into your insatiable pussy.

Or did he just play teasingly with your hair as you lay tightly together after sharing your first orgasms as a couple? Whenever and however he played with your beautiful hair was important to me I realised.

Yes, I want him to desire my wife. Yes, I want him to please my wife in any way she desires. And yes I want him to enjoy my wife's sexual and sensual lovemaking during their time together. But I also want him to treat her with love, tenderness, and respect.

Playing with my wife's hair, to my mind, was his way of showing these three things. My hand then slipped down across your shoulders and down your spine to your lower back, enjoying the feel of your lacy black body as it made its way there.

Did you massage him? I bet you did. I hope you did. I really hope you did. There are so many times when one of your expert massages had led to the most incredible lovemaking between us and that's a scenario that I know you could easily have led him into.

Maybe he massaged you, but probably not in the way that my hands work their way into every part of your body; every part. I then snuggled into your neck, sniffing the arousing aroma of your perfume; your perfume and your body wash. I can neither smell the unmistakable aroma of sex nor the even the more recognisable aroma of cum, although I feel sure that he will have cum over your tits. How many times had he expressed his graphic desire to see your voluptuous tits covered in his fresh cum?

You were definitely shower fresh. Did you shower before you left I wondered? It would be amazing if you showered together before you left the hotel. Equally, would I be amazed if you didn't share a shower with him, given your addiction to shower sex, and shower fresh cock?

I was quite certain that you wouldn't have taken a shower alone before you left. My hand then starts to gently stroke and caress your bottom, cupping each cheek in turn before my index finger works its way slowly up and down your crack, pressing lightly and teasing the lacy material into the gap between your cheeks.

You're still breathing deeply and clearly in a really deep sleep.

"Did he fuck your arse?" I whispered to you. I didn't expect an answer; I just wanted to hear myself ask you the question which I'm desperate to know the answer to. "Did he?"

He was beside himself when you sent him the incredibly graphic close up photograph of both of your holes and so I'm certain that either you will have told him to put it up there if he wanted to, or he will have asked if you're ready for that, probably while he's pummelling your pussy from behind whilst gazing wantonly at your lovely arsehole.

That thought lingered for a while. Have you had anal sex with him? I hope you did. At least I think I hope you did. I know you packed some good quality lubricant as I saw it in your overnight bag; good girl! 

Your thighs were just too inviting to resist. Soft and warm, not to mention that another man will have been enjoying you opening them for him just a couple of hours earlier. I wonder if he will have marvelled at your freshly shaven pubic mound, and your glistening labia as your legs fell open for him. Will he have marvelled the way that I did when I eased open your legs for the first time, to reveal your neatly trimmed pubic bush, and just a hint of moistened pussy lips beneath. That was such an unforgettable moment and I really hope the enormity of his first time wasn't lost on him.

I don't think it will be. I like him, and I like the way he makes you feel. And I like the way his 'lush cock' as you put it will have filled you, any which way you desired it.

Another thought struck me. Did he cum inside you? Did he fuck you bareback? I don't recall any of your explicit messages to him in which you discussed using condoms.

Having thought about it as I stroked your thighs, I hope you took his years of faithful marriage into account and trusted him in that respect. Surely you let him fuck you bareback?

And on that thought, if I was to go down on you as you sleep, would I have tasted his seed inside you if I pushed my tongue as far as I can into your presumably well-fucked hole? I hoped that I would; I'm sure that I would have but, tempting though it was to spread your legs and probe your exhausted sex with my tongue, I resisted temptation and decided to leave you in your deep and peaceful slumber.

Finally, I grabbed your hand. Even in your sleep, you spread your fingers to receive my soft warm hand and I wondered if you'd held hands with him like this; whilst he was licking you out perhaps or as he fucked you hard against the wall. Or perhaps you just held hands as you cuddled together in the afterglow of your mutual orgasms, similar to the way in which I often cradle your hands as we lie together.

My cock was rock hard, oozing with precum despite me having wanked off as soon as you left the house, and I was so desperate to know all about your evening in graphic detail; every graphic detail.

I was desperate to cum again and it would have been so easy to roll over, remove my lingerie and enjoy another much-needed wank.

But no.

Just a little while earlier, you'd given yourself to the man whom you've coveted for so long, with my full blessing and my excitable encouragement. So I just held you in my arms and gently stroked your hair, so proud of the woman I love. Pride was my overwhelming emotion as I joined you in the world of dreams, as well as arousal and sweet anticipation of what you will and won't share with me as we spend the morning in bed together.

Perhaps he'll drop you a text message in the middle of our lovemaking.

I hope he does.