Friday Morning

Fiona’s heart leaped as she finished packing for the weekend.  Three days and two glorious nights at a posh resort on the water.  She was so looking forward to getting away. 

Especially the nights: she and Ian needed some time away, far from the distractions and hustle and bustle of their everyday world, for a chance to rekindle their romance, to regain some of the intimacy that they had lost since getting married eight years ago.

Lately their sex life had become incredibly mundane, the lovemaking less and less frequent, and not nearly as intense.  She chalked it up to the stresses on both at work.  Ian was a rising star at an investment bank, while Fiona was on an equally successful track as assistant creative director of a fast-growing young advertising agency.  Between them, they made a lot of money for a couple in their late thirties, which afforded them a lavish lifestyle.  But the hours, and the pressure, were intense, and the stress often accompanied each of them home.

The sex was vanilla.  At first, that was enough for Ian.  Fiona was young, attractive, exciting.  Just a look at a wisp of hair on her face could arouse him, and his orgasms were intense.  For her part, Fiona was and remained drunk in love with Ian.  She was devoted to him and taking his girth inside her was all it took to set off explosions throughout her body.  Over time, though, Ian seemed to become less interested in sex, initiating more infrequently, and their coupling was both less physically and, Fiona sensed, emotionally intense and fulfilling.

Carefully she picked out her outfits for the weekend: a sexy new swimsuit for the beach and pool, yoga togs for strolling around.  She had purchased two new dresses for their evenings out.  Both accentuated her tall and slim build.  The personal shopping consultant at her favorite boutique certainly had a way of making her look stunning. 

Where she lingered the longest, though, was the lingerie.  She had found a specialty shop that carried her favorite line, an obscure French label with outrageously high price tags.  Ian was out running a last-minute errand, so she slipped out of her clothes to model one set.  She admired herself in the mirror.  The lace of the bra was just see-through enough to give a glimpse of her well-formed 34B breasts, her nipples plainly visible through the sheer fabric.  The fabric in the front of her thong barely covered her freshly waxed pussy.  She stepped back, took another look, and imagined herself standing in front of Ian in the hotel room, him caressing her through the fabric as he kissed her hungrily.  She visualized him reaching between her legs to find her thong soaked through.  Suddenly she realized her breathing was becoming ragged and that moisture was gathering in her nether region, and she hastily disrobed before her thong became wet.

Standing naked for a moment, she paused a final time. She felt sexy, aroused.  So excited for the weekend.  Visions of fine wine, candlelight dinners, laughter, and sex.  Lots and lots of sex.  The moonlight streaming through the window, and the morning sun to follow, basking them in their glow as they gave themselves to one another.

She packed the lingerie away, checked once more to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything, and carried her bag downstairs.  Ian’s was already at the door, and he was just coming out of the kitchen.  She ran up to him and gave him a kiss.

“I am so excited for this weekend.  We so deserve this.  It’s going to be special,” she beamed.

“Yes, it will be.  Very special,” he replied.

The drive to the resort was pleasant.  It was a warm, sunny day, and the road wound through the bucolic countryside.  After stopping for a late lunch along the way, they finally arrived.  The resort was indeed fancy.  Fiona had never been there, but Ian had attended a conference the previous year and, upon describing it to her, she exclaimed that they simply had to spend a weekend there.  And so here they were.  The bellman brought their bags to the room while they strolled around the grounds to get acquainted with the layout.  It was spectacular: three pools, a private beach, four restaurants, a five-star spa, and an ample collection of high-end boutiques.  There was no need to ever leave the grounds.  But it was the room that took her breath away.  Spacious, impeccably appointed, with a large marble bath and a private balcony overlooking the ocean.  Fiona threw open the French doors to the balcony and breathed in the air, taking in the view.  She couldn’t remember being happier.

 As it was late afternoon approaching the evening hours, Fiona decided to take a bath.  She drew the water and examined the contents of the minibar.  It was stocked with a fine white, and she opened the bottle and poured herself a glass before returning to the bathroom and lowering herself into the oversized tub.  She lay back, took a deep sip of the wine, and closed her eyes.  She began to trace her fingers across her breasts, grazing her sensitive nipples.  The sensation went right through her, and she felt a familiar stirring between her legs.  She trailed the fingers of one hand down her belly, over her naval, and lightly stroked the smooth outer lips of her pussy.  She felt her clit harden and began to move over it in circles.  Involuntarily she pushed her hips up off the tub bottom and began to rub harder.  She could feel an orgasm begin to build but quickly backed herself down.  She wanted to save herself.

 After half an hour, she arose, dried herself, and reentered the bedroom, wrapped only in the oversized thick towel she had pulled from the rack.  She was overcome with feeling and approached Ian, wrapping her arms around him and letting her towel fall.  She stood before him, naked, and rubbed her hand over the bulge between his legs.  She dropped to her knees and began to unbuckle his belt when he stopped her.

“Not now.  After dinner.  I don’t want to rush.  Tonight is going to be so very special.”

While she was somewhat disappointed, Fiona was thrilled by his words.  They were full of tenderness and romance.  That’s what they had come here for.  She opened her bag and pulled out her outfit for the evening.  She returned to the bathroom to get ready, taking her clothes with her.  She wanted to dress in private, saving the surprise of her lingerie for the time after dinner when the magic would happen.

She emerged from the bathroom looking stunning in a shimmering black dress that perfectly set off her skin.  Its neckline plunged low enough to reveal a glimpse of her modest cleavage, and its cut complimented her curves wonderfully.  She fastened a simple strand of pearls around her neck and stepped into her shoes.  Ian, dressed smartly, appraised her.

“You look absolutely stunning Fiona.  Let’s go get dinner.  I’m starved.  It’s going to be an exciting night.”

“Mmmmm, sounds wonderful my love,” she replied, pecking him tenderly on the cheek and placing her hand in the crook of his arm.

They were dining in one of the fancier restaurants: dim light, candlelight, soft music.  Ian ordered a bottle of wine and they talked about anything and everything.  Actually, it was Fiona who did most of the talking.  As they were eating their dinner, Fiona looked around at the crowd.  Sitting nearby, visible to both of them, was a very attractive young woman.  Fiona estimated her to be younger than she and Ian – perhaps late twenties to early thirties.  She was dressed in a manner that could only be described as simple elegance.  Her dress, also black, had a high neck and was sleeveless, accenting her bare shoulders.  She had auburn hair, shoulder-length and stylishly coiffed.  She dined alone, which seemed odd to Fiona.  She remarked on that as she pointed out the young woman to Ian.

“She’s beautiful.  It’s funny she isn’t here with anyone.  She’s the only lone patron here.  You would think she would have a partner.  I wonder what her story is.”

Ian didn’t immediately respond.  She could see him staring at the young lady, though, and the look on his face betrayed his interest.

“Don’t you find her attractive, Ian?”

“Well, yes, she is quite pretty” came the reply.

“Why do you think she’s here alone?” his wife inquired.

“I’m sure she has some good reason for being here.”

After dinner and a decadent shared dessert and coffee, the couple decided to retire to the bar for a nightcap.  They chose to sit at the bar and the bartender took their order. As they settled in and waited for their drinks, they heard a voice to Fiona’s left.

“Excuse me, is this seat taken?”

It was the young woman.  Fiona replied, “not at all, feel free.”  Fiona wondered why the young woman wanted to take that particular seat when the bar was nearly empty, but then she reminded herself that she was alone, and concluded that she must want someone to talk to.  After the young woman ordered her drink, Fiona turned to her.

“I’m Fiona, and this is my husband Ian.”

“Pleased to meet you both.  My name is Angela,” came the reply.  “What brings you to this beautiful place? I must assume it’s for a romantic weekend away.”

“Exactly,” replied Fiona.  “We are so busy and lead such stressful lives in the city; we just really needed to escape.  What about you?”

“Oh, I’m just here to get away to somewhere beautiful.”

“But you’re here alone,” said Fiona, “an attractive young woman like you; I would expect to see you with a strikingly handsome man.”

“Well, part of the weekend for me is to see what might transpire.  One never knows what sort of mischief one might get oneself into.  Perhaps there is an attractive man whose bed I might fall into.”

Fiona laughed.  “I like your attitude, Angela.  Here’s to unexpected adventures.”  She raised her glass and all three clinked their glasses together.

Ian spoke for the first time.  “Yes, here’s to unexpected adventures.  We’re rooting for you, Angela.”

The three carried on in pleasant conversation as they sipped their cocktails.  Finally, Angela bid them farewell, saying with a laugh that if she was going to find that man she had better get to it.  The couple lingered while they finished their drinks, and then Ian looked at Fiona and said, “darling, shall we retire to our room?”

Fiona’s heart skipped a beat and she blushed.  “That would be lovely.”

They paid their check and strolled to the elevator.  Once in the room, Fiona wrapped her arms around Ian’s neck and pulled him close. 

“Oh this is all too perfect,” she gushed.  “Thank you.  I can’t wait to see what the rest of this night brings for us.”

“Neither can I,” Ian replied.  “I’m so turned on right now.  This is going to be amazing.  I’ve been waiting for this.”

Fiona’s nipples hardened and she felt herself getting wet.  Her heart was beating in anticipation.  She leaned in close and whispered in Ian’s ear.

“That Angela was even more beautiful up close.  Don’t you think?”

“Well, yes, I agree.  I would even say sexy.”

“Yes, very sexy,” replied Fiona.  “I bet you were undressing her with your eyes down there, weren’t you?”

Ian didn’t answer immediately, and Fiona continued.  “You’d like to fuck her, wouldn’t you?”  The naughty talk was turning her on even more.

“What makes you think that?” replied Ian.

“Oh, I know you.  If you had the chance you wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off her.  Tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

“Tell me you’d like to fuck her.  Peel her clothes off, go down on her, slide your cock into her, fuck her hard.”

Fiona didn’t know what had gotten into her.  She never talked dirty like this.  Some combination of the setting, the alcohol, and her intense need for her husband to do exactly that must have been nudging her forward.

“Mmmmmm, you’d like to do that, wouldn’t you?  Admit it.  Say it.  You’d like to fuck her!”

“He already has,” came a voice from behind her, very close.  It startled Fiona and she gave out a mild shriek.  She unwrapped her arms from around Ian’s neck and wheeled around to see Angela standing immediately before her, so close their bodies were almost touching.  She was wearing only a bra and thong, even more provocative and seductive than the special set that Fiona had picked out for just this moment and that graced her body beneath her dress.

“What, what are you doing here?  And what is going on?”  Fiona looked at Angela and then turned to look at Ian.  “Ian, what is this?”  He simply stood there with a smirk.

“Fiona, step aside.  Ian is mine now.” 

Fiona stood transfixed.  Angela pushed her gently but firmly aside, stepped up to Ian, wrapped her arms around him, and kissed him passionately.  Ian returned the embrace and Fiona saw Ian’s hands move down Angela’s body to her bare ass.  Ian’s hands stroked Angela’s cheeks gently as he and Angela continued to kiss, tongues intertwined, their breathing audible.  Fiona watched as Angela‘s hand ran down Ian’s chest and across his stomach in just the fashion that she had imagined she would be doing at this very moment.  Still trying to process what was happening, she stood paralyzed as Fiona ran her hand across Ian’s crotch.  The bulge of Ian’s arousal was clearly visible to Fiona, and she felt her chest tighten as everything began to swim before her eyes.

“Mmmmmm, I’ve been waiting for this, my lover,” Angela whispered to Ian.  “I cannot wait to fuck you in front of her, just like we planned.”

She turned to Fiona.  “Fiona, you are about to see what real passion, real intimacy looks like.  You’re about to watch me fuck him the way you can’t, to give him what he needs, what you aren’t capable of giving him.  You are to sit in the chair over there and watch as a superior woman takes your husband.”

Fiona was still paralyzed, unable to move or speak.  “Did you hear me?  You are to sit in that chair NOW!” Angela barked.  Confused, terrified, but unable to resist, she looked at Ian.

“Darling Ian, what is this?  Why are you doing this to me?”

“Just do as you’re told,” Ian replied, firmly but not unkindly.

Tears began to trickle down her cheeks as Fiona slowly moved toward the chair.

“Wait. Take off your dress.  But not your lingerie.”

Fiona did as she was told, the dress sliding off her body and onto the floor.  She stood as if awaiting further instruction.  Angela walked over to her. 

“What pretty lingerie.  Not as rare or fancy as mine, of course.  Ian has such good taste, don’t you think?”  She pressed herself against Fiona, and her hands cupped Fiona’s vulva.  She could feel the heat coming off Ian’s wife as she slid the front of the thong aside and dipped a finger into Fiona’s dripping cunt.

“Ooohhh, wifey is wet, Ian.  Seems she was aroused at the thought of you fucking her.  Too bad she won’t get that, but at least she’ll get to watch.”  Angela slipped a second finger into Fiona and began to tease her.  “She’s so wet.”

Fiona’s stomach was in knots, her chest tight, and yet Angela’s fingers were exciting her.  She let out a tiny whimper, which caused Angela to withdraw her fingers.  Fiona pressed forward, her body begging for Angela to reinsert them.  Instead, Angela placed her other hand on the back of Fiona’s head and placed her wet fingers at Fiona’s lips.  Fiona’s lips parted involuntarily, and Angela fed the fingers into her mouth.  Fiona licked them, tasting her own juices, the juices that she had imagined would be coating Ian’s cock tonight.

“That’s a good girl, Fiona.  Now, you go sit and watch.  You may touch yourself, but you may not cum until I give you permission.  Do you understand?”

“Yes”, came the weak reply.

“Yes what?”

 “Yes…Mistress.”

“That’s much better.  Now sit.  And do not speak unless spoken to.”

Fiona staggered to the chair and carefully lowered herself into it.  She was horrified by what she saw unfolding before her and tried to look away, but she couldn’t.  She was riveted by the sight of these two locked in a fervent embrace, kissing with a passion that terrified her.  Ian ran his hands down over Angela’s breasts, tweaking her nipples through the fabric.  He unfastened the clasp in front and her bra opened to reveal a set of creamy white breasts worthy of a fashion model.  Fiona gasped at the sight as the garment fell off Angela’s shoulders and her husband’s paramour stood in only her thong.  It was at this moment that Fiona realized that she could never compete with this beauty. 

But that wasn’t the half of it.  As Angela dropped to her knees, unbuckled Ian’s belt, freed his cock from the confines of his pants and took him in her mouth, Fiona realized that this was no mere beauty.  Her husband had chosen a slut, one who would throw herself into sexual acts with a wanton abandon that Fiona could never muster.  She watched in amazement as Angela devoured him, spit everywhere, nose to the base of his abdomen, stroking, licking his balls.  And the eyes.  Looking up at Ian with intensity, hunger, and dare Fiona say, love?  A stream of filthy words escaped Angela’s mouth, only to be matched by Ian.  Listening to him say how good it felt, how she knew how to suck his cock, how much better she was than Fiona.

In a heartbeat, Ian grabbed Angela, threw her on the bed, and slid the thong down his lover’s long slender legs.  He tore his own clothes off in a frenzy and knelt between Angela’s spread legs.  He began to kiss, lick, suck, lap up her juices.  Fiona watched as Angela arched her back and ran her fingers through Ian’s hair.  Suddenly a cry arose from Angela and she thrashed wildly in orgasm.  Ian pulled away and shoved two fingers in her, fucking furiously until she bucked again and exploded, clear liquid squirting from her all over Ian’s hand and arm and the covers of the bed. 

Ian flipped Angela over, and she immediately raised herself up on all fours to receive his massive cock.  From the side, Fiona could see his throbbing manhood, clearly harder, much harder, than she had ever seen it.  Precum was literally leaking out of him as he positioned himself at Angela’s entrance.  She pushed back to meet him and let out a loud moan as he thrust himself inside her.

Fiona still couldn’t believe what she was seeing, but she was mesmerized and realized she was touching herself.  As her husband pounded away, she pinched her nipples, the sensation traveling straight to her cunt just as it had in the bath oh those few short hours ago.  How much had transpired since.  Her heart was torn in two but her body betrayed her incredible arousal.  She slipped her other hand inside the thong and fingered herself. A small river of juices was leaking out of her, down to the crack of her ass and feeding a growing wet stain on the fabric of the chair.  Angela was talking to her now.

“He’s so hard, Fiona. Does he get this hard for you?  Show her, Ian.”

Ian pulled out and walked over to Fiona, stopping just out of reach.  His throbbing member pointed at her menacingly, a sheen on it from Angela’s juices.  Fiona could smell Angela’s sex on her husband.  His cock was indeed harder than she could ever have imagined.  Ian picked up one of Fiona’s legs and slapped himself playfully against the inside of her calf before smirking and turning back to rejoin Angela.  Fiona could feel the wet spot where Angela’s sex fluid had left its mark on her.  She felt a catch in the back of her throat but without thinking ran her fingers across her calf and put them in her mouth, trying without luck to taste Angela.

Her eyes returned to the bed to see Angela flipped on her back now, splayed out beneath Ian.  He was fucking her with a frenzy and Angela was cumming again.  Fiona had lost count of Angela’s orgasms.  Suddenly she saw something familiar.  Ian’s pace was quickening.  The lovers’ eyes were locked on one another.  It’s as if Fiona wasn’t in the room.  Angela begged, “Cum in me Ian.  Give me your cum.  I want to feel it deep inside me.”

Ian began to fuck her like a man possessed.  He leaned forward and their mouths met in a passionate kiss as he let out a low, guttural groan and emptied himself into Angela.  Spasm after glorious spasm shot massive ropes of cum into Angela’s womb.  Angela screamed in response as she exploded yet again.

Fiona was a mess now.  Despite the feeling that her heart was literally breaking in two, she was more turned on by the scene playing out before her than she could ever remember being.  She needed to cum, desperately, her whole body crying out for release.  And yet she was mindful of what Angela had told her.  The twin agony of the heartbreak and her denied orgasm was unbearable.

Ian and Angela were kissing and caressing on the bed.  Ian pulled himself off Angela and suggested she might want to show herself to Fiona.  Angela repositioned to face Fiona and spread her legs wide.  Fiona stared intently at Angela, her lips shaved smooth, a perfectly manicured landing strip above.  And then she saw it, the white, sticky fluid slowly leaking out of her.  Her husband’s cum, which she so eagerly had anticipated would be inside herself now.  Tears once again ran down her cheeks as the realization of what was happening came crashing down upon her.

“There, there, Fiona, no need to cry.  You love Ian.  I know you do, and you want him to be happy.  Here, I will make you a comfortable spot where you can sleep tonight.”

Angela went to the closet and grabbed a few pillows an extra blanket, and a duvet matching the one on the now half-destroyed bed.  She took the duvet off the bed and replaced it with the fresh one, laying the old one out on the floor at the foot of the bed.  She lay the pillow and blanket on top of the used duvet.  “There now, you can sleep here.  And remember, no talking and you may not cum.”

Fiona slowly rose from the chair and lay down on the floor.  She was too exhausted to protest; besides, what could she do?  She realized that it should come as no surprise that Angela would be spending the night in their bed.  “Their” bed… a funny irony in that label. 

She lay down on the duvet, which Angela had purposely arranged so that Fiona would be sleeping directly on the portion of the bed linen that had been thoroughly soaked by the profuse squirting that had accompanied each of Angela’s uncountable orgasms.  The whole arrangement was uncomfortable and humiliating, and Fiona curled up in a fetal position huddled under the blanket.  As the lights were extinguished, she could hear only the sounds of Ian and Angela resuming their lovemaking.  Her frustration at being unable to see what they were doing intensified her hurt, but despite her exhaustion, she couldn’t fall asleep for fear of missing something. 

Fiona lay in the darkness, her ears detecting the muffled and sometimes not so muffled sounds of sex.  Moans, urgings, pleadings, the slurping sound of a mouth on a cock, followed by the distinct slurping of a cock moving urgently in and out of a pussy.  The roar of climax, the tender sounds of afterglow.  All this time Fiona was tortured by her desperate need for release, her clit throbbing, her pussy adding to the soaking of the linens beneath her, her nipples so sensitive that even shifting her body took the utmost care, lest the mere rubbing of the blanket across them trigger her own forbidden climax.

Eventually, silence descended on the room.  Still, Fiona dared not sleep, not while there was a chance that another round of fucking might commence above her.  Then she heard the familiar sound of Ian snoring softly, no doubt drained and completely content in Angela’s arms.  Only then did Fiona give up and allow herself to succumb to sleep.