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Chapter Three
Nieve and Lacey had lunch later in the week, whether in revenge or as something they’d already scheduled I never found out. Nieve came home in high spirits, carrying a couple of shopping bags into which she would not let me look. She went so far as to hide them somewhere to keep me from peeking. I checked the usual spots, but either she knew that I knew about them, or she had chosen one that I hadn’t found yet, because they stayed hidden.
She and Lacey were texting more than ever, and whatever Lacey was sending must have been fairly racy, judging from the giggles and blushes and furiously tapped out replies. I was getting plenty of texts from Lacey too, almost always when I was at work, and none that gave actual information. Just, “heh heh heh” and similar. I had started replying with an emoji chosen at random.
Friday night was our date night. Lately this had meant a bottle of wine and watching a movie at home. Sometimes there was ice cream. Usually there was sex. This Friday, however, Nieve apologetically told me that she was going to babysit for her sister. Since this meant that Saoirse would take our kids in exchange some other time, I agreed. It didn’t hurt that Nieve had run her hand over my chest when she told me and promised to make it worth my while.
Friday night came and Nieve left for her sister’s. She had snuck out to the car earlier with one of the shopping bags she’d hidden, and I wondered exactly what she was planning.
Lacey texted me shortly after Nieve was gone. “u up?”
“It’s 7p. Ofc I’m up.”
“nieve not home?”
“Sister’s.”
“heh heh heh”
“What are you two doing for Saturday?”
“heh heh heh”
“ive got a week left still!”
“?”
“4 r bet!” This made me shift a little, thinking about Nieve and her mouth.
“Seriously what are you planning?”
“planning to get u a 1st class bj”
I put my phone down. Clearly I wasn’t going to get anything out of Lacey. It buzzed a few more times that night, but checking the lock screen showed me that Lacey was just sending increasingly elaborate and obscene combinations of emojis.
Nieve came home late that night in a foul mood. I went to kiss her at the door and she turned away, presenting only her cheek.
“Okay, what’s this about?”
“Jeez! Why didn’t you check your phone?” she said, pouting.
“What’s on my phone?” I asked, and got no answer. I looked. “Oh. Okay, yeah. I’m definitely sorry to have missed that.”
Nieve had sent me another naughty picture. In this one she was pulling the front of her shirt down, showing off the tops of her breasts and her bra. It didn’t show quite as much as the first one, but the fact that she’d thought to send it–sober!–made it almost as arousing.
“You are incredibly gorgeous,” I said.
“What if I’d been in trouble?” she grumbled.
I did not mention that Lacey had been blowing up my phone. “I would have sensed it instantly because of our telepathic connection and raced over to save you.” Was that a hint of a smile?
“Huh. Well, next time I want you to answer RIGHT AWAY.” Apparently I was forgiven, since she gave me a real kiss and went upstairs to get ready for bed. I saved the picture and followed behind. I had been hoping for more than just a sexy selfie, but her demeanor made it clear that she was not in the mood, whether or not she’d forgiven me. I turned to face the other way and fell asleep myself.
—
Unusually Nieve was up before me the next morning. She was making breakfast when I came downstairs and hugged her from behind. She ground her ass against me and tipped her head back for a kiss.
“Good morning,” I said.
“Good morning,” she purred. We stayed like that for some time, simply enjoying each other’s touch. “Coffee’s ready,” she said, disengaging at last.
Melly had a soccer game so she and Nieve left right after breakfast (Melly’s team won, 3-1). Kay and Ri had zipped out of the house after breakfast, both with sleepovers to attend. With an empty house, I busied myself outside, getting the garden into shape. The day passed the way some Saturdays do, full of little tasks that take more time than you expect.
After a quick dinner, Nieve went upstairs to get ready for her night out with Lacey. I had been given strict instructions to stay downstairs until I was summoned. After some time I heard my wife’s voice call out, “Okay. You can come up now!”
When I came into our bedroom I took a long moment to look her over. One of the challenges for a busty woman like my wife is that dresses that suit her bust are shapeless about the waist, and anything that hugs her waist simply can’t handle the size of her bosom. But she had clearly put some tailoring work into what she was wearing tonight (and now it was clearer what she’d been doing while she was babysitting our nieces; her sister Saoirse was a seamstress and had a complete workspace in her home). She wore a midnight blue sheath dress. It was sleeveless, and she’d tailored it to hug her body and while it wasn’t skin-tight, it certainly showed off her curves more than anything she’d worn in recent years. The high kapaklı escort neckline just served to emphasize her assets. Nieve pirouetted to show me everything. The dress was backslit, and her ass looked amazing.
“Your butt looks amazing,” I said.
“Thank you,” she said shyly. Then: “The dress doesn’t make me look….” she trailed off.
“It does not,” I said. “You look incredibly sexy. I’m envious that Lacey gets to go out with you and not me.”
“Well,” she said, “I guess you’ll just have to take me out soon, too.” She turned around again. “Zip me up?” I complied, kissing her between her shoulder blades as I did.
“Where are you two going tonight?” She looked far too good for the Golden.
“Lacey knows a place? She said that she could get us in?”
“Someplace fancy?”
“I guess. I’m worried that I’m going to be the oldest woman there.”
“You will certainly be the sexiest. I’m the one who should be worried.”
She kissed me, slipping in the tip of her tongue. “Flatterer. You’re sure the dress doesn’t make me look–” she paused, and I expected her to say, “fat”, but instead she finished, “–s-slutty?” She stammered a little as she said it.
“You look incredibly beautiful and not at all slutty,” I said. “Like I said, I’m envious of Lacey.”
“Well, one consolation for you is,” she said, “YOU’re the one who gets to take it off me later. You can think about that while I’m out.” She started putting her hair up. I sat on the bed and watched her hands deftly arrange her dark hair.
“I’m thinking about it right now.” A little pink showed on her face.
“Are you now,” she said.
“I am. I’m thinking about taking it off, and pushing you down on this bed.”
She got pinker. “Do you–” she hesitated, then tried again. “Do you wish I were, um, naughtier? Sometimes?” Her hands had stopped moving, and she was looking at me in the dresser mirror.
I took my time answering. Both demurring and pushing too hard would scare her away from that line of thought. And I wanted her to continue down it a ways further. To see that side of her again.
“I love the sex we have,” I said, truthfully. “And I love you. It’s very, very hot for me when you let yourself explore what feels good to you.”
She was red in the face now. “Like last time?” she asked, softly. “When I was touching myself for you?”
“Just like that.”
“So you like it when I explore. What feels good to me.” She repeated, confirming it to herself.
“I do. Do you?”
Her eyes closed. “I do. But… I don’t want… to be… wicked.”
I smiled a little at her choice of adjective. It was very Nieve. “Then don’t be wicked. Or be wicked with me.”
“Oh?” she seemed to come out of a little trance. “So you want to be wicked together?”
“I want us to feel good together,” I said. “A little wickedness seems to add spice to things.”
“It does,” she said. Her hands returned to their work. “Okay. But just a little!” She stuck out her tongue at me playfully.
She finished up her hair and came over to where I was standing to hug me, her cheek pressed against my chest. She stood on her tiptoes to raise her head higher.
“I like your heartbeat.”
I stroked her back, looking down at the nape of her neck. “You can hear it anytime.”
—
Lacey came, looking elegant not to say sexy in her little black dress, cooed over Nieve’s look, waggled her eyebrows at me and whisked my wife out the door. Nieve called, “I’ll text you when we get there!” as the two of them got into the car, giggling together.
Melly and I sat down to watch Spirited Away together before her bedtime. In a half-hour I got a text from Nieve: “were here!!!” to which I responded with a kissing face, and got three of them back. I went back to the movie.
It wasn’t until after Melly’s bedtime that I got another text. “call me?” I went into the kitchen, poured myself a glass of wine, and called.
“Nieve?”
“Hi honey.” She sounded a little down. “Are things okay there?”
“Just tucked Melly in. You okay?”
“I don’t know.” I heard the sounds of traffic. “I needed to get away from all the… the noise, and the lights. I feel weird!” she blurted. “Like I’m not supposed to be here or something.”
“Is anyone bothering you?”
“No! Everyone’s been super nice!”
“And Lacey’s behaving?”
“I mean…” she giggled. “As much as ever, I guess? She’s on the dance floor right now with two guys that came over to hit on her.”
“Goodness,” I said. “You sure they weren’t hitting on you, too?”
“I have my ring on,” she said firmly. “Nobody’s going to hit on a married woman.” I considered my wife’s innocence for a moment.
“That’s good. So what’s the problem?”
“I just feel too old!” she said. “Lacey’s dancing with guys ten years younger than her, and drinking weird drinks with them, and they keep trying to get me to drink weird things and dance, and… I don’t know!”
“Love,” I said. “Do you want to drink weird things and dance?”
“I don’t know!” she said again. “It looks like fun, but….” A heavy sigh. “But I feel like maybe I shouldn’t?”
“It’s karabağlar escort fine, love. You’re allowed to have fun.”
“Hmmph.”
“Don’t do anything you don’t want to, okay? Chat with Lacey a little, take your time.”
“I guess,” she said. And then: “Do you ever wish I knew more about sex?” She whispered the last word, as if afraid someone would overhear.
“Where’s this coming from?”
“Lacey was asking me about… things you and I have done. And then she was laughing at me! And the guys started asking me questions and making jokes, and then laughing at me, too!”
“Listen, love. You’re the sexiest woman there. They’re just teasing you.” The guys? Who were ‘the guys’?
“How do you know? That I’m the sexiest woman here?”
“I guess I don’t. Maybe you should send me a picture.”
“Perv,” she said, and I could hear the smile.
“Feel better?”
“Yeah. I don’t think we’ll stay much longer anyway.” Softly: “Thanks.”
“Love you.”
“Love you too.”
A little later I got a picture of her in her new dress. It must have been taken in the restroom. Her hair was a little unkempt compared to the neat updo she’d had when she’d left, and she had a bright smile on her face. My wife, I considered, was awfully cute.
—
Despite what she’d said, it was well after midnight when she got home. I watched from the kitchen window as she got out of the back of Lacey’s car, waved, and ran inside. I stood up to give her a hug, and she literally leapt into my open arms.
“Miss me?” I said, stroking her head. Her face was red and she was trembling. She gave a quick nod against my chest.
“Yeah. I missed you a lot tonight.”
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah. Just–take me upstairs? I’m pretty wiped out.”
I carefully scooped her up and began to carry her up. “This is becoming a habit.”
“I like it,” she said, rubbing her cheek against my chest. “Makes me feel safe.” We reached the bedroom and I set her on her feet. She kicked off her shoes and looked at me with a little smirk. “Well?”
“Well?”
“Remember my promise? That you could be the one to take it off?” She turned and put a hand on her nape just above the zipper. “Get the light first?” she asked huskily.
“No.”
She giggled. “Bad boy! Go on and turn the light off so you can get me undressed.”
“Not tonight.” She turned to me, color rising in her cheeks. “I want to see that gorgeous body clearly tonight.”
“Love…” she whispered. “No. Please don’t make me.”
I came over to her, kissed her, ran my fingers along her nape. “Yes,” I breathed in her ear.
Her eyes closed in surrender. She slowly turned around to let me unzip her dress. “Yes,” she breathed as I took hold and pulled down, revealing her bare back in the light of our bedroom. I kissed her neck as I drew the zipper down.
“Good girl,” I said, and felt a little shiver pass through her. I licked at her neck with the tip of my tongue, tasting good clean sweat. “Doesn’t it feel good to do as you’re told?”
“Oh god… yesss,” she hissed, swaying on her feet. I pulled the dress off her, leaving her in just her bra, panties, and hose.
“Put your hands behind your head,” I ordered.
“Like this?” Her hands clasped each other behind her head. Her breasts were forced into even greater prominence, and I could see her hips rock up and down, as if she were already imagining us conjoined.
“Just like that.” I undid her bra and let it fall to the floor.
“Oh god.”
I reached around to caress her pale skin, feeling her nipples harden under my hands. I started gently, then began handling her more roughly. Her breath came faster, and she was making little moans, of protest or pleasure I couldn’t tell.
“Take off the pantyhose. And the panties.” She complied, her hands stiff with tension. “On the bed.”
For a long moment I simply looked down at her as she looked up at me. My beautiful wife, exposed. One arm was under her heavy breasts. She started to cover her sex with the other hand, then, as I watched, slowly took it away.
“Is this what you wanted to see?” she asked quietly.
“Yes. God, love, you’re so beautiful.”
“Am I?” she murmured, as she were genuinely wondering about the answer. She ran a hand over her lips, her open mouth. “And I’m a good girl, aren’t I?”
“That’s right.”
“Am I?” she asked with the same tone as before. As if she wasn’t sure.
“You’re MY good girl,” I said. “Mine.” I knelt beside the bed and kissed her mouth. She opened it, hungry for me. Her tongue found mine and we kissed like teenagers, desperate and careless. I pulled away and kissed her neck. She was clawing at my back now, making little whimpering noises.
I moved my way down, from her pale neck to the cleft between her breasts. In the lamplight I could see the spattering of freckles there. I kissed a few of them, suckled at her breasts until she moaned, then continued down her soft stomach. I kissed her navel, hooked my arms under her knees and spread her legs. She hid her face with a hand, biting down on one of her fingers as I ran karabük escort mine through her soft hair.
“Open for me,” I told her, pulling her hand to that fragrant cleft.
“Love,” she moaned. “Please don’t look.” Even as she said that, she was using two fingers to spread her pussy for me. “Oh god. Oh god oh god.” I was licking along the sides as she opened herself further.
“More,” I said, before lowering my mouth to her once again. I circled her clitoris with my tongue.
“OH LOVE YES!” Her orgasm seemed to surprise her, and she jerked her hips and clawed at my shoulders as I continued to lap at her sensitive bud. “Oh god… oh love….”
With my arms still hooked under her legs I rose up and entered her with one smooth stroke. Her eyes bulged. She grabbed my ass and pulled me in even deeper. With her knees up almost to her shoulders, I pressed myself against her.
I was in no mode to go slow or be gentle. I thrust into her again and again, careless of whether or not I was hurting her, hearing her cries grow louder and louder until I drove myself into her and spilled there in her deepest part as she thrashed and screamed beneath me. She clenched her eyes tight shut and made a little mewing noises as I withdrew my softening cock. Wordlessly I got up and cleaned myself in the bathroom with a wet cloth. In the mirror I could see her watching me, her expression unreadable. After she had cleaned herself and come back to bed, she turned the light off, kissed me, and we fell asleep.
—
We overslept. The next morning was a tumult of getting the kids ready (Kay and Ri, having gotten no sleep whatsoever at their friends’, were grouchy when they weren’t falling asleep on their feet), forcing breakfast down throats when we got home, and then trying to recover some semblance of a productive day. I was out in the garden when Nieve found me. She had a fat sandwich on a plate, with home-made fries hot beside it. And a beer.
“You,” I said, “are a ministering angel.” I kissed her hard. She giggled and put the plate down so she could wrap her arms around my neck.
“I thought you might need some sustenance,” she said, and waggled her eyebrows at me.
“I certainly do.” I sat and began eating. “So you never told me about last night,” I said around a mouthful of roast beef.
She blushed. “What do you mean?” She flopped into a lawn chair next to me.
“I mean, what was the place you went like?”
“Oh! Well, it was… trendy? Kind of dark, with weird lighting. And everyone there was really young and… and stylish. The line to get in went almost around the block. And the drinks were ridiculously expensive!”
“Sounds about right. So you and Lacey got in okay?”
“Yeah, she knew the owner, I guess. And the bouncer-guy. So we got to skip the line, which was good, because I was NOT waiting that long outside. And once we got in she found us a little table and got the first round.”
“What’d you have?”
“Chocolate martinis!” She licked her lips. “I want to make them at home sometime. They were so tasty!”
“So you had a drink or two. And then?”
One of the challenges women as fair-skinned as my wife face is that their blushes are incredibly obvious. She had already turned a little pink when I’d brought up the subject of her night out; now, she was coloring all across her ample decolletage. “And the Lacey saw some guys I guess she knew? So they sat down with us and started chatting.”
“Some guys? These guys have names?”
“One was Trevor and the other was Geordie. Anyway, we talked for a while, then Lacey danced with the guys, and then she brought me home.”
There was clearly more to this story but the bright summer day, and the cold beer (and my cute wife in shorts and a tee) persuaded me not to push it. I let the subject be changed, and we talked about our garden plans and other inconsequentials while I finished lunch. It wasn’t until after dinner that the subject came up again.
I was sitting on the couch reading when Nieve came and plopped down next to me. I had been thinking how to bring up the subject of her excursion when she set her head on my shoulder.
“Honey? How does a threesome work?”
I put my book down. That was the last question I’d ever have expected my shy wife to ask. “I suppose it depends on if it’s two girls and a guy or two guys and a girl,” I said. “Why do you ask?”
She nuzzled into my shoulder to hide her face, mortified but apparently determined to see this through. “‘Cause I’m pretty sure that Lacey had one last night. After she dropped me off.”
This was interesting. When Nieve had gotten out of the back of Lacey’s car, I had assumed there was someone in the passenger side up front. Apparently there had been more than one other person in the car that night. “I think you’d better tell me a little more about last night.”
Bashfully, my wife gave me more details about her night out. Lacey had indeed called over the two guys–Trevor and Geordie–and everyone had started talking. The conversation had been fairly ribald, which had made Nieve uncomfortable, but she hadn’t wanted to be a spoilsport, and so had stayed at the table listening, even if she hadn’t contributed much to the talk. Reading between the lines, Lacey had turned the conversation that way. They’d started playing, “Never Have I Ever”, but had to stop because Nieve was getting too embarrassed even to speak.
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