After all, politeness is important, even in fantasy.
It was an important meeting. She carried a briefcase and an overnight bag to the car, and kissed her husband goodbye. His hand trailed over her breasts, and she flushed slightly as she waved him goodbye, remembering the previous evening. He had found the sharpie in her briefcase, and had written on her breasts and pussy, before making love to her. The words were there still, concealed under her smart suit. She shook her head as if to clear it, she had a busy day ahead of her.
The meeting had gone well. She had given her presentation, and watched several others. Finally there had been dinner, a convivial occasion, with the other delegates from the meeting. They sat now in the hotel bar, several of them staying overnight. One man there in particular was chatting to her. He was charming, and entertaining, drinking wine with her, and topping up her glass. She was basking in his attention, flirting with him, shamelessly.
He got up suddenly, pushing his chair back.
“It’s time I went to bed”, he said intently, his eyes holding hers.
“Good idea”, she replied, suddenly feeling the effects of the alcohol. “I’ll walk up with you”.
They left the bar area. She stumbled slightly, and he offered his arm to steady her. She took it gratefully, as they walked to the lift.
“I’ll see you to your room”, he told her. She thanked him; glad not to part from his company just yet.
When they arrived at her door, he took the key card from her fingers and unlocked the door for her, and held it open for her. She went in and sat on the bed, and he followed her inside. He sat next to her, and his hand stroked her face gently. She leaned forward slightly, and they were kissing. His tongue thrust deep into her mouth, and her arms snaked round him for support. She kissed him back passionately, only dimly aware as his hands unbuttoned her blouse. His hands roamed over her breasts, as hers fumbled at his shirt buttons.
He drew back from the kiss for a moment to slip both blouse, and already unfastened bra from her body. His eyes raked her breasts, and then his mouth curved into a smile. Reaching out one finger, he traced a pattern on her breasts, and she looked down to watch.
“No”, she jumped back, suddenly scarlet, her hands covering the word ‘slut’ which his finger had been tracing over. The word her husband had written the previous evening.
His hands reached out gently, and took hers, pulling them away from her breasts. His eyes held hers, and she couldn’t look away.
“So, my beautiful girl”, he purred, “whose slut are you then?”
She looked down then, “my husband’s” she whispered.
He smiled at her then, and released her hands, to reach up and stroke her face. “I think you should call him then and let him know you’re okay”, he told her, “and I want to speak to him too”.
She went to her bag, and fetched her phone. Watching him, she pressed the call button.
“Hello?”, Her husband’s voice was slightly sleepy, it was late.
“Hello darling,” she began hesitantly, “I’m in the hotel.” Oh god, what was she to say? “I’m…”, she tried again, “I’ve…”. The stranger’s eyes watched her levelly. “I’m sorry”, she sighed desperately, “I’ve got someone here to talk to you”, mutely she held out the phone.
“Hello, sir”, the stranger’s voice oozed politeness, “I’ve been enjoying the pleasure of your wife’s company this evening”…
She watched nervously, as he stood up and walked towards the en suite bathroom with the phone. The door closed behind him, and she waited, wondering if she should get dressed again. But her breasts had already revealed her to him, and so she waited.
The bathroom door opened, and her heart stopped. She reached out towards the phone, but he put it down on the bedside table, saying, “You’re on loudspeaker”.
Her husband’s voice spoke then, “Darling, it’s all okay”, he sounded relaxed, happy, “we’ve had a little chat”. She breathed again.
“I think you should get naked now”, he continued.
She froze, suddenly remembering, “No,” she protested, “he can leave, nothing’s happened…” her voice trailed off confused.
Now”, her husband’s voice was sterner, “naked please”.
She gazed desperately around the room, like a trapped animal. The stranger, his shirt still open, sat calmly in the armchair watching her.
“Do as he says” he ordered her.
With a moan of defeat, she turned away from his gaze, and stepped out of her shoes. Slowly she slipped her skirt down, and then with trembling fingers, lowered her tights and panties. She stood there, unable to bring herself to turn round. Suddenly she felt his hands, gently on her shoulders, turning her. He had removed his own clothes already, and stood naked with her. She held one hand in front of her pussy, but he reached down to move it aside, and gazed at her shaven flesh and the words ‘fuck me’ written in marker pen upon it.
“You’re beautiful”, he told her gently, “you have a lovely wife”, he added towards the phone.
The line crackled slightly, “I want you to make love”, her husband’s voice was clear, “enjoy it”, he reassured her, “I’ll be here listening” he added.
Her head flicked back and forth, but the stranger’s gaze was expectant, she realised this had been agreed on. He led her back to the bed, and laid her down gently. His mouth came down to kiss hers, and she relaxed into the moment. She closed her eyes, and clung to him. enjoying the sensation. She gasped suddenly, as he penetrated her, and opened her eyes, suddenly startled to see an unfamiliar face above her. As he moved within her, she heard her own moans of pleasure, and those of her lover deep and urgent. With a startling sense of familiarity, realised she could hear her husband’s voice too, and could visualise him then, in their own bed, his hand cradled around his penis as he listened to her being fucked by this stranger.
That thought itself, pushed her over the edge, and she cried out, cumming around a stranger’s cock. In response, she heard two men’s voices, as they came, with her. As she lay there, slightly dazed and overwhelmed, she heard her husband’s voice say “Goodnight” and he was gone.
The stranger, pushed himself up on his elbow, and gazed at her for a moment. Then he got up, and she watched confused, as he scrabbled in her briefcase. He returned to the bed, and she saw her sharpie in his hand. He knelt over her, and taking her wrists in his left hand, moved her arms above her head. He smiled down at her, and then pulled of the pen lid with his teeth, began writing on her belly, between her husband’s previously inscribed words.
‘Thank you for your slut’.