Temptation is the bane of the married man's existence. I mean, it's everywhere! Every day, on my commute to the bank where I work, I see them; ladies with asses and tits that beg to be touched, pinched and licked. Oh, the agony!

Yet I am a good boy, for the most part. I put my head down and focus on what has made me the success I am.

Work. I am a busy bastard, and fly all over the world recruiting investors and collecting the financial reward for my efforts. My wife stays home and keeps herself busy by complaining about how bored she is, while still managing to find time to spend my money. Hell, her five-time-a-day latte habit could break me, if I didn't budget for it, specifically.

Lately, she's been keeping herself busy with private Pilates lessons, which I think is ridiculous. If she's so bored, she can damn well go to a public class. A hell of a lot cheaper, that! But, when I think about it, it's worth it to me to keep her happy, because a happy wife is a content wife. And a content wife makes a better life, for sure.

Today, I have to fly out to Hong Kong, and need to crash her little Pilates party in order to pack. Whatever. She won't even notice me sneak in.

As usual, the door to our apartment is locked, even though I pay a ton of money for an apartment with manned security. I dig out my keys with a stifled sigh, and open the door just in time to get smacked right in the face with a view of the roundest, most perfect ass I have ever seen in my life, all bent over and on display like candy. Oh, yes, thank you, God!

The woman has the dark, sleek look of a native of Hungary, or somewhere close by, and she is positioning my wife in ways that I'd love to see her show off in the bedroom, (which, of course, will never happen). The two women are focused on their lesson, and don't notice me for several minutes.

Long enough for me to see the gorgeous face that belongs to that hot ass, and round, softly swaying breasts that still manage to wave hello from the confines of a suffocating sports bra.

My wife is huffing and puffing as she gets into another position, and her light brown hair is damp with sweat. Her instructor looks cool as a cucumber, and turns to catch me staring.

The smile she sends my way makes me feel almost lightheaded. Breathtaking, with bright, white teeth, wrapped with lips as full and wet as cherries on the tree on a dewy Spring morning. My mouth is suddenly dry, and I find myself wanting to quench my thirst with her lips and tongue.

Our eyes are locked together, but only for a moment. The high-pitched voice of my wife comes in like a dart between the eyes, knocking me back into reality. "James," she complains. "What are you doing here? You know this is my Pilates day!"

"Sorry, Hun. I'm just here to pack. I have to go out of town for a day or two. Business is booming!". I turn to head toward the bedroom, and hear her call out to me.

"Good! Maybe now I can get my espresso machine. I told you, it's only four thousand!" I sigh again, thinking of her constantly ironic use of the word, "only." I'm not even going to bother to answer, until I hear her instructor laugh, and say "oh, how I love a perfectly made latte! I'd be here all the time, if he got that for you!"

Her voice is like silk, smooth and luscious, and her laugh, seductive. I think a manic thought about how having her around more often could easily be worth four grand. It's stupid, I know, but I am beginning to actually try to think of ways I can have a moment alone with this girl, if only to feast my eyes upon her fully and without interruption.

Maybe picture her naked and doing some Pilate demos, just for me. The stupid idea grows like a fire, and I hear my own voice yelling down the hallway at my wife, "if you really want it, maybe I'll bring you a surprise home from Hong Kong!" Her squeal of happiness confirms that yes, I did actually say that. Out loud!

I notice a little shake to my hands as I quickly gather what I need for my trip and toss it into my case. I barely know what I'm packing, and Jesus Christ, did I almost forget my passport???!!!

The instructor is the hottest thing I've seen in a lifetime. At least in person, and she's making me stupid. I can't focus ! "Get yourself together, you dickhead!" I whisper aloud to myself, and it works. Okay. I'm okay!

I head down the hallway again, dragging my leather Eddie Bauer carry-on, and nearly make it to the door. But I make the mistake of looking back one more time, and see her with her legs spread wide apart, and making a graceful "V-shape" in the air, posed like a welcoming goddess, and I bump right into the door-frame!

She sees me and I feel like an ass, but her smile is naughty and knowing, as if she can read my mind. As if she can feel the hardness of my cock from where she lies, ready to be taken! Shit!

I shake my head and say my befuddled goodbyes, and escape without further embarrassing myself.

During my entire trip, she is all I can think about. I fantasize during meetings with clients, and daydream during presentations. I think I left the country knowing less about my clients than when I came. This cannot stand! I decide that the only remedy is to do what I can to have her. Maybe she won't live up to the hype I've created, and I can move on. Yes! I must do this!

The last thing I do before leaving the country, is to buy the most beautiful, expensive, multi-tasking coffee machine I can find. It makes anything, and foams and heats the milk as well. I have it boxed and shipped, Overnight Priority to my apartment. Ah, yes. The plan is in motion!

I make very sure I am home when the package arrives, and enjoy the piercing shrieks of gratitude from the wife. She unpacks it and sets it up, right away, and even gives it it's own special "star in the spotlight" place on the kitchen island.

All I can hear while she is blathering on about it, are soft moans in my ear, delivered by the dark beauty, and all I can see is her smile as she looks up at me from the floor before devouring my cock; making it disappear between drenched ruby lips. God, I could make myself come just by thinking about her!

I hear the wife squealing about how she can't wait to show off her newest expensive toy to her instructor tomorrow, and I decide a day off is in order. Hell, I have surely earned it! And if not by all of my hard work, then by the performance I put on while accepting my wife's gift of open legs, which I only get after a prize is tossed into her cage.

As I crawled into bed that night, and saw her expectantly lie flat on her back and give me the "oh, go ahead... I'll let you fuck me tonight," look, I wondered how I'd even pull it off. But actually, it was easy.

I pictured the dark beauty and banged out a woody in an instant, and fucked my wife into oblivion, and came in minutes! I never have to worry about whether she comes or not, because she never does. Says she "can't relax enough," or some shit. I spent years trying. Now, it's just a reward for me, and we both know it.

So, after I took the prize that was offered (with the full expectation that I would take it, and be thrilled about it, by God!) I rolled over and listened to her sleep sounds. Not quite a snore, but a steady, heavy breathing, and I lay for about an hour, wondering how I could get a moment alone with the instructor, whose name I'd found out tonight, is Ilsa. Ah... Ilsa... How I want you!!!

Stealthily, she moved along the walls, until she came to a small grate at knee-level. Lifting her skirts daintily, Gynne pulled loose the rusty metal, and crawled inside, taking care to press the grate back into place. As she crawled along, the tunnel grew wider, and inches of cold, dark water turned into feet.

The tunnel ended where water met tunnel-top, and there was no choice but to draw a deep breath, and plunge under, hoping to God the distance wasn't too great to the opening into the pond.

It hits me like a lightning bolt! A simple plan, yet one with a more than fair chance of working. I carefully crept from the bed without disturbing the princess, and headed down the hall on silent feet. I looked in the fridge and saw about a quart of milk in the container.

I decided a bowl of cold cereal was in order, and had one, using as much milk as possible, and left the bowl in the sink, with the box left on the counter. I poured the rest down the drain, and rinsed away the evidence.

Ha! No milk! And no milk, means no latte! Someone will have to run to the store for more! "And it won't be me, honey," I laugh softly.

Suddenly, I can't wait for morning, and I go to sleep only so I can bring it faster. It works! My eyes open and I squint from the stream of sunlight let in by my always thoughtful wife.

Even though I'm grateful to be awakened, a part of me wants to strangle her, because for all she knows, I finally got a day off to sleep in, and she cranks open the drapes and rips the blinds open, allowing the sunlight to flood the room. "Oh," she turns around, wide-eyed. "Did I wake you?" She is such a genius.

"Not at all," I lie, as I run to beat her into the shower. Ha ha. I lock the door as she pounds on it, infuriated.

"Go use the guest bath," I yell back as I turn on the shower and grab my razor. Today, I shower and shave with purpose! I snickered as I heard her stomp down the hallway to the expensively decorated bathroom for the guests we never have. Why should she complain, I think as I lather up. Someone should appreciate all the money that went into that fixture museum!

I am finished in a flash, and dress in a simple jeans and a plain, white t-shirt. It fits my arms well, and shows off the fact that I visit the gym on a semi-regular basis. My wife appears, still sulking about her banishment to the hostile world of decadent baths, and she is wearing tight, shiny workout clothes. I notice the price on the tags, just before she yanks them off, and I try not to wince. God, must EVERYTHING cost a fortune?

But as I shake my head, I remember again what is about to happen, at least in my dreams, and my mood turns. I'm one happy son of a bitch! I run my hands through my still damp hair as the missus huffs around me. She stops and turns to me suddenly. "Are you wearing that cologne I got you for Christmas?"

I panic. I feel busted and I don't quite know what to say. I don't usually wear it, even to work. Why the hell will I tell her I am wearing it to hang out at the house? But her never-ending chatter saves me. Without pausing for breath or an answer, she carries on. "I don't mind that you want to impress me, James, but I don't think I really like that kind anymore.

It was the hottest thing when I bought it, but now, all my friends are buying their husbands the new Tom Ford."

"Lie close, and keep thy silent voice," he whispered against her hair and he enfolded her in his cloak. As Gynne disappeared under the heavy cloth, she bit her lip to stay silent as the rocking rhythm of the horse's gait moved Garrett deeper inside her, her swollen clit ripening under the sweet sensation.

She waltzes past me without even turning her head.

"I'll pick some up for you tomorrow. It's only about four twenty a bottle."

Ah yes. "Only."

Whatever. I am saved from having to respond, or worse, explain myself, and she sets up the living room with mats and soft music. The knock at the door makes me jump.

"Make yourself useful and answer the door, James!" I hear this command come from the mat, and I see her involved in some kind of stretching procedure, so she doesn't see my shaky hands as I open the door and see the woman of my recent dreams standing there, in leggings and a tight half-tank.

The seconds tick by as I take in the lovely sight in front of me. I note every detail, right down to her soft pink warm up jacket tied casually around her waist. Her soft laugh jolts me back online. "May I come in, or shall we do our class in the hallway?"

Even though I feel awkward and stupid, I don't show it. I laugh and extend my hand to greet her. Well, mostly just so I can touch her. I notice the warmth of her skin as it touches mine, and she holds on for a bIt longer than one would expect. Her thumb brushes back and forth over my Omega watch several times, before she releases me with a gleam in her eye.

I almost have the idea that she is into me! Like a panther, she glides through the door. She smells like the morning after a hard rain; clean, fresh and vibrant. I resist the urge to bury my face in her hair as she goes by.

"I got the coffee machine," my wife screams out right away. First words outta her mouth. Ha ha. She can't resist a good brag.

"Really?" Ilsa responds with enthusiasm. "Do I get to savor a cup after our session?" The wife is beaming. "Oh, I can't wait to make you one! Let's get the hard part over with, so we can try it!"

I spend the next hour with a newspaper in my hands, merely as a prop, so I can comfortably watch the posing, positioning and the more I watch, the more I want. I can't wait for this longest hour in the history of mankind, to come to a fucking end! And finally, it does!

As the ladies finish up and do the final stretches, my ears perk as I hear Ilsa say, "So do I get a delicious latte today, now that your machine is the best of the best?" God, it's like she knows my plan!

"Oh, I can't wait to use it," is the answering screech. I never noticed how loud my wife talks until I compared it to the soft, dulcet tones of her instructor. I suppress a shudder. My belly knots now, as I wait for my evil trick to be discovered.

I watch her come to the kitchen and begin to set all of the supplies out. I'm holding my breath as she opens the refrigerator door. "What? How can this be?" Her eyes impale me like twin daggers. "James, did you use all of the milk?"

I feel a little shaky as I force myself to sound innocent and casual. "Oh, damn! Did I? I didn't realize!" I come stand beside her to look at the empty space in the fridge as well. "Well, I guess no lattes today."

"Bullshit!" My wife is determined to show off. "Go to the store and get more!" Her command is nearly a boner-killer, but I shake her off. "I'm not going anywhere. It is my first day off in ages, and I won't be leaving the house!"

"Don't worry about it. Another time, maybe." The silky voice came from a packing it up Ilsa, and I panic; no way! She can't leave! That would ruin everything! The wife rescues the situation with an exasperated snort. "No, Ilsa! I will run to the store.

You aren't leaving without having one of my famous lattes!" I blink. Famous? Already? She's never even made one yet! But wait, I am happy! I see her grab her purse and race for the door. "I'll be back in fifteen minutes, tops!" And off she goes.

I follow her to the door, and as I close it, I even watch to see her go out and leap into the car, just for good measure. I have no idea what will happen next, but I want to make sure the coast is clear when it does! As I shut the door and turn, only to see Ilsa standing directly in front of me, mere inches away. Startled, I jump back against the door, and stand there, mouth open as I try to figure out what is happening.

"Fuck or suck," she whispered as she leaned into me. I am at a loss for words. "Wha-what did you say?" She pressed closer, every inch of her hot, delicious body making contact with mine. "I said," she repeated, looking me in the eye with a wicked smile. "Fuck, or suck. It's your choice."

My head is spinning. Here I was, trying to figure out how to approach the subject of how I wanted this insanely bangin' chick, yet here she was, coming on to me! I heard the bells and whistles of a jackpot in my head. Hell yeah!!!

I manage to answer her question. "I have to pick?" I asked in what I hoped was a sexy husk. "A little of both isn't an option?"

Ilsa dropped to her knees and unbuttoned my jeans with nimble fingers.

"Well, we'd better get going then. Time is wasting!" She slid down my boxers just enough to gain access to my cock, which was getting harder by the second. She had the length of it down her throat in a flash, and the shock of her heated mouth surrounding me, took my breath away. Amazing! My hands came down and gripped her head, pulling my hips up into her as she took all of it, licking and sucking like she was starved for it. I didn't understand it, but hell, who cares???!!!

THIS was a dream come true!

Within seconds, the feeling in my balls and belly told me I was in danger of ending this adventure way too soon. "I'm going to come any second now, if you don't slow down!"

"We only have a short time," she spoke with her mouth full, making me begin to shiver with the sensations she was causing with her skilled lips and tongue. I pulled her head back, gently, yet somewhat aggressively.

"Then bend over the counter over there, and let me have 'part two,'" I spoke in a voice hoarse with the tension of containing the explosion that was imminent. She jumped up and rested her elbows on the kitchen island, and I was behind her in an instant, sliding her soft, stretchy pants down below her hips.

As I began to work the tip of my cock into her from behind, I felt the slippery wetness of her pussy as she lifted her bum slightly, urging me deep inside her. I slid forward until I was buried in her juicy depths, and heard her moan with the satisfaction of having me inside her.

I began to pump into her in a fast and hungry rhythm, because she was grinding her ass into me as well, cheering me on with her body language. Her words confirmed what I felt she was telling me. "Fuck me, and fill me with your juice," she gasped out. "I want you to come inside me before she gets back!"

There was no time to make it good for her, yet I suspected she was going to get off, simply on the fact that she was having her client's husband, right her in her own house. Again, I was right. As I plunged and pushed, deeper and deeper, I heard her begin to make sounds that threatened a pleasure overload.

At the last minute, I remember my manners and at least give an effort toward her needs. Reaching around her smooth, perfect ass, I find her juicey, swollen clit, and tease her into joining me for a simultaneous blast of heated, orgasmic glory.

Her cry is stifled by her "face down to the counter" position, and I hear my own groan of release and the feeling of every wet jet of cum shooting into her, creates ever-increasing jolts of intense pleasure. God, it hasn't felt like this in so long!

As we both slowly come back to earth, I reluctantly pull out, and her juices literally drip from my softening cock. She whips around to face me, and drives home a deep, tongue-filled kiss, before laughing softly. "I knew you wanted what I wanted. I could tell right away!"

She then bolts for the guest bathroom before I can even respond. Unbelievable! It's like, every pre-pubescent fantasy I've ever had, come to life in 3-D beauty!

My eyes rest on my soaked balls and I decide her idea of clean-up is a good one, so I make for the master bath, and remove the evidence as well. Just in time! I hear the front door open, and thankfully, the lovely Ilsa had finished her re-assembly, and greeted my wife enthusiastically, gushing about coffee and lattes and shit!

Like nothing ever happened. What a pro! I'm sure she is a gold-digging princess, from the way her thumb caressed my gold watch, and the gleam in her eye as she drooled over it, but hey, who cares! It got me what I wanted, with almost no effort on my part! What a day this will be!

Her scent is all over me. Deliciously musky and rich, so I take a practical bath in the sink. So sad, to see that scent go away. But there will be more. I know it!

And I am right! From that day forth, I arrange to work from home as often as possible, and decide Pilates is a manly workout too, so I arrange for private lessons.

I make sure my wife has a fistful of dollars, and off she goes, shopping like a buyer for Neiman Marcus, while I have my face buried in the sweet, slippery lips of our instructor's pussy. Oh, how I love it!

And how she can take my entire length into her own mouth, and sucks me off with such joy and enthusiasm, it's like she lives for my cock!

I have fucked her every way possible, and trust me, not a surface in that house hasn't been christened by her ass as I spread her legs and watch my hard and happy cock, slide in and out of her, and I love how those pink, wet lips seem to hug it tightly, and paint it with the sticky, sweet proof that I have been seriously laid!

And so it is... My life has been turned around, and I am enjoying it to the fullest. Do I feel guilty?

Sometimes, but then, not really. It seems that everyone is happy now. My wife is thrilled, because I am always in a good mood, and no longer harp her about money. Ilsa is happy, because I fuck her properly and make sure she's happy, and buy her gifts that keep her gold-digging soul soothed. And finally, I am happy.

I get to have sex with the hottest girl I've ever seen, and she seems to actually enjoy it! I'm no longer tense, and my productivity is up at work. My mood is improving business!

All in all, a win-win. Wouldn't you agree?

 

This story is based on my friends real life experience and so I tried writing it as if I was looking through his eyes. I'd never get the full affect of it as I'm still learning but I hope you all enjoy my interpretation of his experience Thank you x

 

Another well-written tale of hot, passionate lust. Good stuff.

 

I liked the story but was a little confused by 2 random paragraphs, with Gynne moving a grate to swim in a pond...copy paste error?

 

Yes you're right. It was a copy and paste of my story and I see the error. Thank you so much for pointing that out for me @JillyanJigs

 

I feel very sad for the wife in this story. She's obviously missing out on so much in life, and never having orgasm? I feel there is a good area to explore with another story focusing on her, maybe where she realizes how sad her life is: husband cheating on her but she doesn't even love him enough to care, so she fills her life with all these frivolous items to impress friends she doesn't even like, etc. So she starts to see a new psychiatrist, who has her explore her own sexuality by having her wear lingerie that makes her feel sexy, go without underwear to a luncheon, buy a sex toy to finally achieve orgasm. As her sexuality blossoms, so does her relationship with the psychiatrist who gets turned on by her reports back to him of her experiences.

Hahahaha, gueso I liked this story enough to want a serial series. Well written!

 

Great story im glad he got whath e needed

 

I was thinking the wife needs to be seduced by Ilsa; get everything back in gear all the way around, possibly even a 3some (NO, I don't always hope for them). Very Hot; almost blew just from your stories

 

Great story, thank you.