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This was originally part 2 of the 2 part story I wrote a few years ago.
I really appreciate all the positive feedback I have had. If you don’t like my style of writing or my preferred themes of dominant females and submissive males then don’t bother reading my stuff. It will all be the same.
And no, it’s not fucking AI whoever said that.
The Weekday Wife – Part 3 – Saturday Night
I’ve lost track of how long I’ve been sitting on the bed, head in hands. Images of my worst nightmare, Vikki with “him” constantly tormenting me. It’s strange but the worse my wife treats me the more it brings home the depth of love I have for her. The fear of losing her overriding every other emotion. I love her so desperately.
I suddenly notice the fading light outside the hotel room and I realise how hungry I am. I haven’t been able to face eating since I left the house the previous evening. The sick feeling in my stomach starting as raging jealousy now made worse by hunger. Perhaps a couple of drinks in the bar and a good meal would help me forget, even for a short while, what my own wife was doing at this very moment in my own house.
The bar is busy, the restaurant even busier. It’s Saturday night and the place is full of couples, smiling, laughing enjoying each others company. I’m probably the only single there and that fact emphasises my loneliness and despair. It’s an hour wait for a table so I sit sadly at the bar and order a large Vodka and tonic.
It all seems to happen at once, I hear the clicking of high heels, see the barmans eyes looking appreciatively over my shoulder, the noise in the bar seems to recede as heads turn and eyes stare. The faint aroma of perfume, a familiar perfume to me, accompanies the hand laid gently on my shoulder.
“Hi honey”
I turn slowly not believing my ears. My gasp seems loud in the now quieter bar. Vikki looks more beautiful, more radiant, more vivacious and sexier than I have ever seen her before.
“What are you doing here?” As I speak my eyes are taking in her appearance. Impossibly high heel shoes, dark nylons, a tight black satin knee length dress hugging every contour of her body. Golden blonde hair cascading down over her bare shoulders. Her smiling lips deep red and inviting.
“That’s not much of a welcome, aren’t you glad to see me?”
“Of course I am” I answer. And then, almost afraid to ask, “a..are you here alone”.
Vikki smiles sympathetically, Don’t be silly honey, have you ever seen me dressed up like this for you?”
“No, but I just hoped…”
My wife giggles at my embarrasment and then stands close watching my eyes to enjoy the painful reaction she knows she’ll get, “I only make this sort of effort for him, you should know that by now honey”.
“He’s here”, I splutter looking around, feeling panic set in.
“He’s in the restaurant silly, waiting for me to come back and finish dinner. I just thought it would be rude of me not to pop out and say hello to you.”
I notice the barman standing in front of us his eyes wandering longingly over my wife’s body. “Can I get you anything madam”, he eventually says.
Vikki leans across the bar towards him, her thigh tight against mine. I can distinctly feel the suspender clip beneath her thin dress. “What a wonderful idea”, she purrs, “I think a bottle of your most expensive champagne would make our evening perfect”.
The barman misunderstanding her words looks enviously at me, “would you like me to serve it here at the bar sir”.
My wife glances at my stricken expression and giggles with delight. “No, I’m not with him tonight, I’m with a gentleman friend in the restaurant. Would you send it in there for me please. Oh and charge it to my husbands room number would you“.
Vikki turns and walks away, every male eye in the bar hungrily following her every move.
The barman offers me a sympathetic smile and he picks up the key to check my room number. “ Quite a lady, your wife”.
I don’t answer, I can feel my face flushed with embarassment as I try to avoid eye contact with him, pretend the exchange never took place. Hunger is forgotten, I can’t go in the restaurant now. Watching the two of them together laughing, whispering, touching. I just can’t take it.
Strangely I can’t go back to my room either, I have to be close to her. I don’t understand it but I can do nothing except sit at the bar feeling sick to the stomach. I have to put up with the barman’s knowing glances, imagining every laugh I hear in the bar is at my expense.
I’m on my fifth vodka and tonic when Vikki finally reappears in the bar. She takes the stool next to me and make a show of crossing her legs slowly as she sits down. I get a tantalising glimpse of lacy stocking top, tanned thigh above and tight silky black thong. My wife smiles as she sees my eyes drawn to the deliberately provocative exhibition. Her eyes are sparkling and she looks slightly flushed, I realise the champagne has made her slightly tipsy.
“Poor baby“, she purrs, “you look so sad and I am having simply the best evening ever”.
“I’m so happy for you”, I mutter sarcastically.
Vikki leans toward me to whisper, I can smell the faint aroma of alchohol on her breath. “He’s made me so wet tonight, he can be such a tease sometimes. All through dinner he’s had his hand up my dress stroking me through my panties. He knows he’s made me desperate for him again. I could have cum just sitting there honey“.
I gulp, hoping the barman, whose quite obviously eavesdropping as best he can, can’t overhear our conversation. Vikki giggles at my embarrasment and deliberately raises her voice, enough for him to hear.
“He’s got me so horny I don’t know how I’m going to wait until we get home to get him inside me. I need him so badly, right now“. My wife pauses for a second then giggles delightedly, “ what a wonderful idea”. She looks from me to the room key on the bar and back at me with an evil grin.
“Oh no Vikki, please“, I beg, as the realisation of what she’s about to do hits home.
Ignoring my plea’s, my wife grabs the key and stands and gives me a quick peck on the cheek, “don’t worry honey, the way I feel this won’t take long. Look on the bright side, at least you get to sleep in the wet patch tonight”.
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