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Bringing Back the Fire - Part 1

My client fans my wife's embers...
In my particular line of job as a consultant, I work with a different client each week. A few times each year, jobs will extend to two weeks. I just recently finished one of those. Almost all of my jobs take me out of town and I usually travel alone. Now and then, my wife accompanies me, usually when I am able to drive to a large city or when I'm going to somewhere she has never seen. Two weeks ago, I had a job that took me to Edmonton, large city in northern Alberta. As it happened, it was also a two-week project with the second half completed in a small town near our home. My wife chose to come along on both legs, initially for the shopping opportunities, and subsequently because the bitch was horny. Horny for my client-contact, Trevor.

I had worked with Trevor the previous year. He wass a nice enough guy who enjoyed talking about himself without being a bore or too full of himself. A few years younger than I, he was nothing special to look at, not that that makes any difference. Cheryl and I drove up to the city on the Tuesday. Upon arrival at the hotel, I checked in then contacted Trevor. He had arrived the previous day to prepare for our project. He suggested that we all get together in the hotel restaurant for dinner. We agreed to meet soon and, after freshening up, Cheryl and I rode the elevator down to meet him.

Trevor was waiting in the lobby. Introductions were made and we went in to dine. Cheryl is able to hold her own in social settings but as a rule, remains somewhat aloof when we are with my clients. This evening though, I noticed that she jumped right in to the conversations, charming Trevor with her southern accent (Cheryl is an import from southern USA). In turn, she seemed to be fascinated with his every word. I was happy enough to let them talk, inserting a comment of my own every now and then.

Cheryl and I returned to our room after dinner. She usually turns on the TV then, and watches whatever drivel catches her eye. But this evening she fussed with her clothing and such in her suitcase as she asked me questions about Trevor - questions she already knew the answers to...was he married, did he have kids, what kinds of activities was he into...things like that. Innocent, interested questions. In the end, she declared that he was a nice man, then succumbed to the lure of the television.

Next day, Wednesday, I met Trevor in the lobby and he took me to the local office where we got started on his project. I was amused that he was asking questions about Cheryl. Questions not unlike those she had asked. In the meantime, Cheryl had the day to kill with shopping - I had left her with my truck to get around with.

That evening we invited Trevor to dinner at one of our favourite restaurants in the city. We picked him up in the lobby then, in my truck, drove across town to the Thai joint. All the way over the two of them chatted amicably. Cheryl was clearly entranced by Trevor – I couldn’t remember the last time she was quite so taken with another man. It had been some time.

Their conversation and focus continued throughout dinner. As the meal wore on, their heads seemed to be drawn more and more closely together across the table. I was able to peek under the table a few times and once noticed that their calves were touching but nothing more. And nothing ‘untoward’ occurred at all that evening. Nothing beyond the undeniable truth that they were very attracted to each other.

We had not engaged in sex since the previous August - eight months of masturbation for me. eight months is a long time but after an incredible drought of four years, eight months doesn't look or sound too bad at all. Basically, my wife emerged from menopause with no desire to sleep with me and saw no reason to care for my sexual needs. That is another story that I am not motivated to write about.

Things were different before they changed.

I had already been feeling significantly bitter about the lack of sex in our marriage and this rather overt demonstration on Cheryl’s part didn’t help much. But at the same time, I found it really exciting that she obviously wanted to get it on with another guy and wasn’t being at all discreet with respect to me being there. I began to fantasize about her jumping his bones…

We returned to the hotel after dinner. I am a smoker, for my sins, and while we walked to the hotel in the parking lot I told Cheryl that I was going to stay down and have a cigarette before coming up. She smiled, gave me her customary peck on the cheek and carried on into the hotel with Trevor, walking close to him and, as they passed through the door, Cheryl took took his arm.

I watched them through the doors as long as I could, seeing them walk towards the elevators until they were out of sight. I wondered if she would go straight to his room.

Cheryl is a few years younger than I at 59. She’s a big girl…a BBW, if you will. At 5’5” tall I guess she weighs about 250lb. Big, 42DD tits, big ass, nicely thickened thighs and a big round belly that is admittedly a little larger than what might be considered “in proportion” but with just the right amount of sag. All in all, a lovely big girl – I like her body type very much.

Finishing my smoke, I headed upstairs to our room. Cheryl was there with the TV on. She was relaxing on her bed but greeted me with a smile as I entered. I sat on my own bed (separate beds, almost always), woke up my iPad and checked out Lush to see if anything new was in my profile and inbox. After a few minutes, I shut it down and rolled over to speak to her.

“You and Trevor are getting along pretty good, huh?” I ventured.

“He’s a nice man, I like him.”

“I’d say you want to do him.” I ventured.

She was quiet for a few seconds, frowning. “That’s not fair, why would I want him? I’m a fat old lady – he has no interest in me. Besides, I’m married and don’t fuck everything that moves.”

I smiled and called her on that, “bullshit,” I said. “You have been so obvious, especially tonight. Did he kiss you on the elevator?”

Cheryl blushed at the question. “No, I don’t have an elevator to kiss,” she replied, trying to dodge the question.

“So, who kissed who? I am sure you two at least kissed, and I saw you take his arm when you went inside.”

She was quiet again, avoiding looking at me, but thinking and blushing even more now. I was still smiling, trying to let her know that I wasn’t upset (I had already accepted that she would probably fuck him and wanted to encourage her). “Well yeah, we kissed. I guess I don’t know who kissed who, but we kissed.”

“Does he know what he’s doing?”

“Oh yeah!” her eyebrows arched to emphasize her reply. “He is one hell of a kisser!”

“What else happened, did he cop a feel? Make any arrangements?”

“No arrangements, no.”

“But he copped a feel. Tell me about that.” I slowly rubbed my cock through the front of my jeans…she saw the movement and watched my hand.

Finally she looked me in the eyes. “He grabbed my ass, groped my boobs.”

“Anything else? Did you touch him?”

She thought for a moment – I’m sure she didn’t want to tell me too much for fear of pissing me off. She gets points though, for being honest. “Not really except that I could feel his hardon in his jeans and I pressed against it.” Her expression now was a mixture of defiance and concern.

“But no plans? Nothing said? What did he say to you?”

“Actually, he didn’t say a word. When the elevator reached our floor I got off and the door closed behind me.”

“I’m surprised that you didn’t go to his room with him – I thought you might have.”

“Oh I thought about it!” Cheryl chuckled awkwardly. “I thought about it but then I thought about you. I couldn’t do that without talking to you about it.”

“Oh really? You need my permission or something? What?”

“Well, I know that we haven’t had sex in a long time and I know that you have been wanting it…I think it’s only right that we reconcile that.”

“So…what…you’re going to fuck me to make it okay for you to fuck someone else?” My question was confrontational, even though this whole idea turned me on. Just the same, I wanted to let her know that I wasn’t going to assume the typical “cuckold” position wherein she could have anyone she desired while I got none.

“I…I…” Cheryl was stammering and blushing, she looked away for a few seconds. “I just want to be fair, is all.” She explained, lamely. I was enjoying this side-topic…a chance to get back at her for some of the repeated rejections I had suffered when approaching her for sex over the past months.

But I soon tired of that little game. This was shaping up to be the fulfillment of one of my most commonly recurring fantasies and I didn’t want to screw it up over what Cheryl might consider to be petty bickering.

“Alright, you seem to be serious about this but I have some rules that I think we need to follow in order to keep this in perspective,” I told her. “You are welcome to fuck Trevor. Now or whenever you want to – permission granted.” I paused for a moment to watch her reaction but she was guarding her feelings on that statement. “In return, I want you to be willing to have sex with me whenever I want it. You can offer reasons why we shouldn’t but I won’t put up with bullshit excuses anymore and I won’t necessarily buy what you offer. You don’t have to let me know ahead of time but afterwards, I want to know that you have been with him, whether you have sex or not, every time, just as soon as you leave him. Is that clear?”

Cheryl thought about those rules for a few seconds then nodded her head in agreement.

“Not good enough, I want to hear you agree. Say it out loud.”

“I agree,” she replied.

I floated a few more rules that she was visibly less agreeable to: the idea that I could seek out and take a lover of my own, that she could have other lovers but only after we had discussed them first (she maintained that she would never take on anyone else but Trevor). I also told her that it was paramount that Trevor knew that I had agreed to her fucking him. After some discussion, Cheryl agreed to all of my terms, still stating that she had no interest in anyone else and that she wasn’t happy about me being with others but could see the fairness in that agreement.

I was rock-hard in my jeans. Cheryl could obviously still see the bulge there – I had made no effort to hide it. Her eyes darted there every few minutes but she said nothing about it.

“So…ready to go fuck him,” I asked?

“I wish you wouldn’t put it like that,” complained Cheryl.

“Whatever. Which room is he in?”

“I don’t actually know,” she replied.

I reached for the telephone, called the front desk and asked for Trevor’s room. He answered on the second ring. “Dude, what room are you in?” I asked.

“502,” he replied, “why, what’s up?”

“Cheryl wanted to know. See you in the morning.” I hung up the phone with no further explanation.

Cheryl was blushing big-time, not at all happy that I had made the call. I smiled at her. “502, right across from the elevators, I do believe,” I told her.

She stared at me, obviously re-thinking the whole thing. I could sense the excitement in her. I pulled down the zipper on my jeans and flipped open the button at my waist. “Come here, suck on this.”

Without hesitation, Cheryl slid off her bed and dropped to her knees beside mine, reaching into my jeans, working my hard cock out of my shorts. Opening her lips wide she immediately began bobbing up and down on my cock with her warm, wet mouth.

I dropped my head back on the pillow and moaned involuntarily. Cheryl always was a great cocksucker and it had been months since I’d been touched by anyone but myself. I thrust back into her mouth with every downward plunge of her head.

Feeling my excitement build rapidly, Cheryl at first sucked harder and faster then, raising her head, said those magic words: “give it to me, baby, cum in my mouth!”

So I did. I came hard and loud, pumping spurt after spurt into her mouth as she swallowed and continued to bob and suck. When the sensations became too intense, I rested my hands on the back of her head and she stopped. Sitting up, she wiped her mouth off with the back of her hand, smiling at her accomplishment.

I rested for a few moments, catching my breath. Finally, I raised my head and said to her, “502, get up there and fuck him. Go.”

Cheryl got to her feet and asked, “Are you sure? Are you really sure?”

“We have an agreement,” I reminded her. Go ahead and fix your hair, do not brush your teeth – he can taste my cum, it will be good for him to know you’ve just blown me. Go.”

And so she went. First to the bathroom to straighten her disheveled hair, then, grabbing her purse and checking herself in the mirror, she headed out the door to Trevor’s room on the fifth floor.

To be continued…

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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