Desiring Another Man's Wife Ch. 02

I couldn't get my mind off Monique. I masturbated more than once fantasizing about her, and the next time Jen and I made love, I orgasmed thinking of Monique. I was still mad at Victor for groping Jen, but it also mystified me why he'd risk a pass at another woman when he had a wife like Monique. Don't get me wrong. My wife is pretty, and she keeps in shape. Her breasts are shapely (although small), her stomach is flat, and she has great legs. But Monique is something else. While Jen is pretty in a cute kind of way, Monique's beauty is sensual and sophisticated. While Jen is slim and petite, Monique is curvy and voluptuous. My wife dresses conservatively. She usually wears pants, and when she wears a skirt it goes to her knees. She never wears tight jeans or snug sweaters. Her lingerie is full coverage, cotton bras and panties. She never dresses to take advantage of her best features -- her tight ass and long legs. I've encouraged her to dress nicer, but she never has. The funny thing is, Jen's not a prude. I wasn't her first lover. She doesn't mind giving me head, and she likes watching porn with me. It's just not in my wife's nature to think about dressing sexy. I couldn't stop thinking about Monique. I remembered the charge I felt when I realized Monique was braless under her strapless dress. I don't think Jen's ever gone braless. And the feel of Monique's garter belt as my hand rested on her waist, and the glimpses I got of Monique's stocking tops. The next club mixer was a week away. I felt guilty for thinking so much about Monique, so I took some money out of the bank and encouraged Jen to get a new outfit for the event. The night of the mixer, I barely managed to hide my disappointment when Jen walked out of our bedroom. She had bought another shapeless, knee length black dress. I inwardly sighed, knowing with certainly what she wore underneath. Black cotton bra, black cotton panties, and black pantyhose. But I was encouraged when I saw Jen's new shoes. Usually she wears flats or low heeled pumps. But she had bought black patent leather high heels. They must have been 2 or even 3 inches high. Not exactly fuck-me-pumps, but sexier than she'd ever worn before, and they made her shapely legs look even better. Victor and Monique greeted us as soon as we walked into the crowded club, and they insisted we sit at their table. Things were a little awkward at first, but after a few drinks the tension seemed to pass. I had trouble keeping my eyes off Monique. She wore a tight black satin dress that was held up by two thin spaghetti straps. The dress ended around mid thigh, and her long legs were encased in sheer black stockings. The dress was so tight I could clearly see the bumps of her garter straps. I was grateful for the floor length table cloth, to hide the tent in my pants. I feared Jen would notice all my glances at Monique, but thankfully her attention seemed drawn elsewhere. I had just raised my glass to my lips, when I felt a sharp object press against the soft leather of my shoe. I immediately recognized the pressure as the stiletto of a high heel. Was Jen playing with me under the table? She hadn't done anything like that before. I looked at my wife across the table. She and Victor were talking, her expression serious. It wasn't her. But that meant it was Monique. I glanced at her. She looked at me briefly, but then turned away, a smile on her face. It WAS her! I pictured in my mind her shoes. They were black stilettos, like the ones Jen had just purchased, but higher, maybe 4 inches, and they showed a lot of toe cleavage. The reality of Monique pressing those sexy heels against me got me even harder. As if to read my thoughts, Monique dug her stiletto hard into my shoe, so hard I almost yelped in pain. The pressure eased, leaving me feeling disappointed. But then I felt the pointy toe of Monique's heels touch my ankle. Monique slowly ran that pointy toe up the leg of my pants, moving up past my sock until it pressed against the bare skin of my calf. My cock throbbed in my pants. She touched me like that for a few minutes, and then she pulled away. I thought the game had ended, and part of me was glad, as my heart pounded so wildly I feared a heart attack. But then I felt her touch again. But when I realized what she was doing I almost came in my pants. She had slipped off her shoe, and now her stockinged foot was traveling up my pants leg. My cock pressed so hard against my pants it hurt. For the next 15 minutes, Monique caressed me with her foot. Chills ran up my spine as she scrapped the seam of her stockings that ran along her toes over my bare skin. I feared Jen would notice my heavy breathing, and the beads of sweat on my forehead. Thankfully she was still distracted by her conversation with Victor. Abruptly, Jen pulled her chair back and got up. "I have to go to the ladies room," she said, looking a little flushed. "I'll go with you," said Monique cheerfully. Monique hesitated a moment -- I knew she was putting her heels back on under the table -- and then she walked with Jen to the ladies room. I felt awkward around Victor, having played footsies with his wife just moments ago. He looked at me, and I prepared myself for his accusations. But then he smiled, and leaned across the table, like he wanted to share a secret. "My wife is very attracted to you," he said. I blushed red, shocked at his words and embarrassed at being caught. "What? I'm not sure what you're talking about." "It's okay Mike," he said, still smiling. "No need to worry, I'm cool. Monique and I have an arrangement." "What do you mean?" I asked, knowing how stupid I must sound. "An arrangement. I suppose you'd call it an open marriage." "An open marriage?" I said, shocked. "You mean, you and Monique sleep with other people?" "Well, not sleep," Victor said, laughing. "But I think you get the picture." Victor's tone became serious. "Like I said, Monique's attracted to you. Really attracted to you. I mean, you're all she's talked about since we met you. And I'm fairly certain you're attracted to her. So, if you'd like to get together with her, I'd be okay with that." I was momentarily speechless, not believing a woman as alluring and sensuous as Monique could be attracted to me. "Don't you get jealous? Your wife, attracted to another man? Having sex with another man?" Victor shrugged. "Like I said, we have an open marriage. It works both ways." My eyes narrowed. "Soooo ... you'd want to sleep with Jen?" He shook his head. "It doesn't have to be that way. I'm attracted to your wife, sure, she's cute. But if she's not into it, or if you'd rather not tell her, then it could be just you and Monique." He smiled conspiratorially at me. "Mike, to tell you the truth, Monique's insatiable; she wants sex all the time. You'd be doing me a favor by spending the night with her. I'd hit the ESPN club and have a few beers and watch the game." "I, ah, I don't know. We've never done anything like this. And I've never cheated on Jen." Victor shrugged. "You only live once, buddy," he said. "Monique's a special girl. You know, she used to be a model? She was in a couple of Sports Illustrated swimsuit issues, about 10 years ago. What I'm saying is ... look, Jen's a sweet girl. She's cute, and she probably turns heads now and then. But Monique's special. When she walks into a room, every male dick gets hard. She's had that effect on you, right? So you know what I mean. Well my friend, Monique wants you, but she's a fickle bitch. If you wait too long, she may be on to the next guy. So think about it, but don't think too long." I did think about it, later that night as I fucked Jen, the memory of Monique's stiletto heels against my bare flesh still fresh in my mind. Once again Jen seemed more passionate than usual, and I wondered if Victor had played with her under the table, the way Monique had played with me. The thought of Victor's large black hands on my wife bothered me, but my burning lust for Monique pushed away those jealous feelings. I've always been a jealous husband. Jen and I met in college. I was a bookish, geeky junior, and she a leggy blonde, a popular freshman and former prom queen and cheerleader. I tutored her in math, and by the end of the year we were a couple. Her friends were shocked she liked me, and to tell you the truth, so was I. I guess it's true opposites attract. Back in college, guys hit on her all the time, and that continued after we married. It always bothered me, but I'm certain she never cheated on me, and I've never cheated on her. I've never even considered having sex with another woman. Until now. My lust for Monique consumed me. How could I be so vulnerable to Monique's charms? Maybe because my sex life with Jen had cooled. They say married couples go through phases, but this phase had lasted over 2 years. We still loved each other, and were even thinking about kids. Jen had gone off the pill a few months ago. We weren't trying to get pregnant, but we weren't trying not to either. But while the love remained, the passion had left our relationship. Maybe the lack of passion in my marriage helped fuel my lust for Monique. I couldn't get her out of my mind. I found those SI swimsuit issues on the internet, and when I saw the pictures of Monique my jaw dropped. She was magnificent, wearing skimpy string bikinis that left little to the imagination. She hadn't aged much. Maybe her face looked a little older now, but her breasts were still large and firm, her stomach flat, her ass tight and her legs long and shapely. I was hugely disappointed when Jen said she didn't want to go to the next club mixer. She didn't offer an explanation. Instead of going to the club, we went to dinner and a movie. The phone rang as soon as we got home. "Hello Mike," I heard Victor say on the phone. "Monique and I missed you and Jen tonight. We're in your neighborhood. We'd love to stop by to say hello." I put my hand over the phone, my heart racing. "It's Victor," I said to Jen, trying to hide my excitement. "He and Monique are in the neighborhood, and asked to stop by." Jen looked like a deer caught in the headlights, her face a mixture of surprise, apprehension, excitement and fear. At the time, being so blinded by my lust for Monique, Jen's reaction didn't register with me. I was trying so hard to hide my excitement of seeing Victor's wife again, I wasn't paying attention to the signs from my own wife. "We should invite them over," I said, trying to sound nonchalant. "They're just down the street. We don't want to be rude." Jen started to say something, and then shrugged, looking resigned. I smiled excitedly, and told Victor to come up to our apartment. "I guess I better change," Jen said. I didn't know what she meant. We'd just gotten home from our date night, and Jen was already dressed for an evening out, in a skirt and blouse, and pumps. But I nodded and said, "Sure," happy that Jen had agreed to Victor and Monique's visit. Jen disappeared for about 15 minutes, and when she emerged from our bedroom my jaw almost dropped. She looked fantastic. She wore a snug fitting turtleneck, and a short skirt. A mini-skirt! I hadn't ever seen Jen wear anything so short, and the skirt did a great job showing off her long shapely legs. She had put on hose (pantyhose, I was sure), and also the high heels she had worn to the last club mixer. "You look great, honey," I said, still shocked at what I saw. "Is that a new outfit?" She nodded hesitantly. "Um ... yeah. I had some money left over after buying these shoes. Do you like?" I began to nod, but then the door buzzed. I opened the door and shook hands with Victor, and then he passed me to greet Jen. As he did I got my first glimpse of Monique. It would not be an exaggeration to say she looked breathtaking. She wore a form fitting red dress that swooped in the front, and plunged in the back. She wore black hose and black high heels. Her hair was up, treating me to an unimpeded view of her long graceful neck. She greeted me with a kiss on the cheek, and I was engulfed in her sensuous perfume. Monique's lips lingered on my cheek, making me almost shudder with excitement. Then Monique trailed her lips lightly across my cheek towards my lips, but at the last moment she teasingly pulled away. I glanced nervously behind Monique, fearful of my wife's anger. But Victor had taken Jen with him into the kitchen to make drinks. Monique took my arm and led me to the sofa. Her dress was so short it couldn't possibly hide lace top stockings. I was certain she wore pantyhose underneath. But when she sat and crossed her legs, I was treated to a glimpse of her stocking tops. Monique took my hand and placed it on her thigh. I felt the outline of her garter straps. I didn't need to touch her back to know she was braless, as I did that first time when we danced. The back of her dress plunged to just above her ass. There was no way she could be wearing a bra. If that wasn't enough, I could see the bumps in her dress, where her nipples pushed against the silky fabric. Monique placed her soft hand against my chest. "You're shaking," she said. I was shaking, from excitement. I had never been so aroused. Monique slid off the sofa to stand in front of me. She rested one knee on the sofa, next to me, and then moved her other leg until its knee also rested on the sofa, on the other side of me. She was straddling me with her long stockinged legs. My heart pounded. I looked nervously towards the kitchen. "Jen'll be back soon," I said concerned. Monique put her finger on my lips. "Don't worry," she reassured me. "Victor will keep your wife busy." I knew what that meant, of course. Victor was having his way with my wife, or at least trying to. But I wanted Monique so much. Any lingering jealousy and concern I had for Victor with my wife disappeared as Monique brought her hands to the edge of her dress, and then slowly -- ever so slowly -- pulled her dress up. I almost came in my pants as Monique's shapely, stocking-clad legs came into full view. Her dress was like a curtain, rising so my eyes could feast on her legs. Monique raised her dress until I could see her heavy laced stocking tops, then her thighs above her stockings with the bare skin covered by only the straps of her garter belt. Monique lingered there a moment, but finally she raised her dress more, letting me see her panties. Not the full coverage cotton panties my wife wore. But barely-there silk panties, a tiny triangle of sheer black lace with the wisp of a string on each side. With her dress bundled around her waist, Monique leaned over and kissed me. She explored my mouth with her hot tongue. "Unzip me," she begged. I found her zipper and pulled down, and then her bare breasts were before me. They were magnificent, large and full, yet so firm, capped by dark areolas surrounding eraser sized nipples. I squeezed and fondled her, and sucked her hard nipples in my mouth. Monique moaned, and then reached between us and cupped my hard-on. "I've wanted to feel this since that first time we danced," she moaned into my ear. She unzipped me and pulled me out, and softly stroked me. I threw my head back, almost convulsing with the pleasure of Monique's soft touch. Suddenly I became aware of grunts and cries coming from the kitchen. It was Jen's voice, and it sounded like she was in pain. "It's Jen, she's hurt," I said, pulling away from Monique. "No, she's okay," Monique assured me, urging me back into the sofa. "Victor will take care of her, she'll enjoy it, you'll see." "Are you sure?" I asked, but my concern for my wife ebbed away as Monique teased my balls and stroked my shaft. Jen's cries turned to moans. Long soulful moans, moans that begged for more, moans of the type I have never before heard from my wife. "See?" Monique said smiling. "Victor will take care of her." Then Monique slid to her knees and took me into her mouth, and within moments I forgot all about my wife, in the kitchen, with Victor. 13072 2.58/512345