A Week in Brighton

I smiled back, trying to reassure her. "It worked. So is it over now? Are you coming back?"

She sat up straight and faced me, she cuffed away a tear but couldn't stop her chin trembling "I don't know what to do, I feel so confused, I love you so much, I really do, but... but I love Lauren." I suspected she wanted to add the word 'more' to what she said, but I didn't push the fact. "I think it might be best if I booked into another hotel for a few days, give myself time to think." she stared at her hands lying in her lap as she spoke. She wouldn't look at me, and I knew she was lying. There would be no hotel; she was going back to Lauren. If I were a stronger man I would have said no. I would have ordered her to stay with me, but I wasn't that man, and she would have fought back, it's in her nature, and the situation would only have gotten worse. I would have fought harder if it involved another man, but I didn't know how to fight a woman. I just didn't have the right ammunition. Besides It didn't even feel real, It was more like a bad dream, something that would end soon, and then everything would go back to how it was.

"I love you; I don't want to lose you. I want you to stay with me. We'll leave tonight, go home and forget about all of this." It was the most I could think of to say without giving her an ultimatum.

"I'm sorry, I want to so much, I do, you know you mean the world to me, but...there's something..." and the tears started again.

Bizarrely, considering the circumstances, I felt sorry for her, and I felt like I was the one at fault "I want you to be happy, take as much time as you like, you can stay here. I'll find another hotel." I said. Mister Understanding? More like Mister Schmuck.

"No, it's been so unfair on you already. I'll be okay." She stood up and bent to kiss my cheek and quickly looked away. Now I was certain she was lying, but still I said nothing as for the second time in as many days I watched my wife walk away from me to be with another woman.

I sat alone in the dark hotel room and thought about my situation. My wife, who I loved dearly, had just told me she had spent the last twenty-four hours committing adultery with another woman, and I hadn't raised a finger in protest. Was I so weak? In truth the whole thing seemed unreal, like a dream or watching a movie with Lisa and Lauren the stars. But here's the rub, as I thought about how she was cheating and making me a cuckold, a masochistic part of me, deep inside, became aroused, and minutes after Lisa left I found myself tugging my pants down and masturbating to images of Lauren taking my wife.

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Lisa stopped in the corridor and cried quietly. An older couple passed by her and hesitated, wondering whether to offer assistance. She wiped her eyes and quickly walked to the elevator. What a mix of emotions! She felt so guilty for what she had done to John. He was such a nice and gentle man. He didn't deserve any of this and she was so sorry for what he was going through. She loved him so much and really wanted to stay here, but she had made a promise to Lauren, and her twisted sense of loyalty told her she should honour her word. Twenty-four hours ago she would never have dreamed she was capable of doing what she now planned. But she thought of Lauren and immediately felt the anticipation and excitement of just being with her. Yes, she did love John, but at that moment she needed Lauren, she felt empty just being away from her for only an hour.

As she drove the Mercedes into her driveway, Lauren saw Lisa sitting on the doorstep looking like a lost waif. She stood and massaged her numb bottom.

"How long have you been waiting?" Lauren asked as she approached.

"About an hour," Lisa replied. The light was fading fast and she was relieved to see her lover, she needed some kind of confirmation that she had made the right decision.

Lauren pulled her close and kissed her hungrily, then she stepped away and slapped Lisa hard across the face.

"Don't you ever fucking walk away from me again. Now fetch the bags and bring them inside."

Lisa stood stunned and speechless as Lauren opened her front door. She was about to call after her when she thought she heard Lauren say something. It sounded like "Fucking slut," and a stab of arousal pulsed through her and she hurried to comply.

Dropping the bags in the hall Lisa entered the kitchen where Lauren handed her a glass of wine. "So what did John say? What did you say to him?" she asked as she sat at the kitchen table.

"The obvious, he wanted to know where I'd been and what I planned."

"What did you tell him?"

Lisa looked away, afraid that Lauren might be able to tell that she had almost stayed with John "I...I said I needed time. I said I would stay at another hotel while I decided what to do," she explained.

"You appear to have clothes on," Lauren said.

Lisa was thrown by this sudden change of direction, but accepted the comment and slipped her skirt and blouse off. Naked apart from her shoes she folded the garments neatly and hung them over the back of a chair. She sat down and picked up her wine glass. "Come and stand by me," Lauren told her, Lisa stood again and placed herself close to Lauren's right arm.

Lauren opened a spiral bound notepad on the table and began writing figures into it, to all intents and purposes ignoring the naked woman standing next to her. After a few minutes Lisa began to grow bored, she sighed hoping to draw Lauren's attention. It had more of an effect than she anticipated as Lauren flicked her hand sharply, stinging the inside of Lisa's thigh, without taking her eyes off the notepad.

Lisa was contrite and stood quiet and patient. She held her full wine glass with both hands in front of her like some sacred offering, but she didn't dare drink any without Lauren's permission. She stared out of the window, trying to occupy her mind, and suddenly gasped as Lauren slid one fingertip slowly the length of her pussy. She trembled, causing a drop of wine to spill over her fingers, and she shuffled her feet further apart, hoping to entice Lauren to use her some more. But she simply continued writing and acting as though she had no idea what her right hand was doing.

Trying hard to stand still, Lisa shuddered each time the maddening finger made its journey along her wet slit. She could smell her sex and feel rivulets of her juices tickling her thighs. She had been standing in position for half an hour and she thought she might scream in frustration if Lauren didn't soon do something more to her. At last Lauren put down her pen and turned to face her. She pushed her finger slowly into the sopping pussy and briefly rubbed the swollen clit with her thumb. Lisa whimpered and sagged as her knees almost gave way, spilling more wine over her hands in the process.

"So what have you decided?" Lauren asked, pressing once on the sensitive clit.

"Wha... what? Oh God, what?" Lisa gasped, she was finding it hard to breathe and harder to think.

'"Are you staying with me or going back to John?" Lauren asked "You need to decide now, and I meant what I said: I won't share you. If you want to stay you'll be mine and mine alone." She pushed her fingers deep and circled the clit with her thumb. "If you don't think you can commit to that you should leave now, and we'll never see one another again." Lauren gave the ultimatum as she withdrew her hand, leaving her fingertip barely touching Lisa's pussy.

Lisa couldn't concentrate, couldn't think straight. Lauren was cheating, asking questions as she drove her to the edge of orgasm. She couldn't think of anything but Lauren touching her, how could she possibly answer? A single finger slid easily inside her and she groaned loud, knowing she couldn't refuse?

"Okay, I... I agree, please?" Her hips were pushing forward, trying to gain more contact with Lauren's hand.

"You have to ask me," Lauren teased as she added another finger.

"Oh God, please, Lauren, let me stay."

Abruptly Lauren removed her hand. "No, no, please don't," Lisa cried.

"Ask me properly," Lauren said. She looked from Lisa's panic-stricken face to the floor. Her meaning was clear.

Almost eagerly Lisa dropped to her knees. The wine glass in her hand seemed even more like an offering from this lowly position "P...please, Lauren, please let me stay with you. I'll be good; I'll do as you say, please." She felt her insides were on fire, she wanted to be touched, to be caressed, to be used.

Lauren bit her bottom lip and lifted her hand to Lisa's mouth. She pushed her glistening fingers between Lisa's lips and smiled in satisfaction when she licked and sucked her own juices from her hand. "Oh yes, I know you will," Lauren whispered as she watched the kneeling woman sucking on her fingers and humping air.

Over the following two days their relationship intensified. They were like teenage lovers who had just discovered sex. If they came within a yard of one another they kissed and touched, it seemed as though they were always kissing. Lisa also grew more submissive to her younger lover and Lauren welcomed the obedience she was shown, taking advantage and gradually drawing Lisa further and further under her domination.

Lisa knew she was acting like a silly young girl with a crush. She loved John and she was being unfair to him. But she couldn't stop herself. She was so excited just to be with Lauren. Any thoughts of her husband disappeared as soon as Lauren was near. She was weak and she was enthralled. Lauren had discovered something inside her and brought it to the surface. What she thought was an aversion to lesbianism was in fact a denial. She had many times thought about other women and convinced herself it was something she could never do. It seemed she just needed the right woman to draw her out and now she wanted to explore these new emotions to the full.

There was also something else. For the first time in her life she felt submissive to somebody. John was so mild and calm. It was always up to her to be strong; she was the one who complained if something was wrong. She was the one who decided where to go and what to do. John was happy to go along for the ride. Now she knew the freedom of submission, to have another make all the decisions and to just obey, and by thinking she had no choice any guilt was negated. If she had no choice she had no reason not to embrace and enjoy whatever was required of her.

But it wasn't only the submission. Lisa also discovered a masochistic side. She didn't enjoy pain, but she became aroused when being punished and dominated. Just a simple suggestion, "Do you fancy a cup of tea?" and Lisa took it as a command. And when she was actually given an order she almost wet her knickers. She also found herself thriving on humiliation. She would actually create situations for Lauren to become annoyed with her just to have herself reprimanded, the more severe, and the more public, the more aroused she became. After just one weekend she was so aroused by the thought of belonging to Lauren. And It seemed that nothing was more important to her than pleasing her young mistress.

But through it all, deep in the recesses of her mind there was a small worrying voice, and the voice kept asking where it would end, how far would she have to go to keep Lauren happy, and was she prepared to go the distance. But most of all the voice asked: what about her marriage, what about John, and did she want to risk losing him. And even though she knew she should face these questions Lisa pushed them away, convincing herself that she could take just a little more time, a little more guilty pleasure, and then she would make everything alright again.

Early Monday morning found Lisa cooking bacon and eggs while Lauren dressed herself. She had a meeting to attend and entered the kitchen in a smart gray suit. It clashed with the more radical decorations on her face but somehow it worked. Lisa by contrast was naked apart from a small apron. Lauren moved behind her and slid her hands up under it to cup Lisa's breasts.

"I want you to stay like this, ready for when I come home," she whispered, her lips brushing Lisa's ear.

"I have to go to the hotel... to see John," Lisa replied. She felt Lauren stiffen and the hands grip tighter onto her breasts. "All my things are there, l need them," she explained.

"I'll buy you new things. I don't want you to see him, you won't come back."

Lisa turned so that they were face to face, Lauren's steely expression and possessiveness suddenly frightened her, and a glimmer of her former self struggled to the surface. "I can't just pretend that he doesn't exist, he's my husband, I love him..." she hesitated when Lauren's eyes widened, then continued "Anyway, there are personal things, irreplaceable things..." her voice trailed off, and they held each other's stare for a moment until Lisa relented."Look, I'll phone John, ask him to leave my stuff at the reception. I won't see him... I promise." Guilt for the way she was treating her husband flooded her, but she couldn't bear to see Lauren hurt.

For a few long seconds neither spoke, but then Lauren altered her grip on Lisa's boobs. "Be back here before I come home, you're going to be punished for this."

Lauren went from hurt to stern in a moment and Lisa gave a nervous smile. "I'm not joking! Just make sure you're ready and waiting." With a final, painful squeeze of Lisa's breast she moved away to pour herself coffee.

*********************************************************

I had spent a day in limbo, not knowing quite what to do. I thought about ordering Lisa back home, but she had always been the stronger person mentally. I also knew it would lead to heated words, and I wasn't quite at that stage yet. I guess I was hoping the whole thing was a temporary aberration. I was willing Lisa to phone and I felt like a nervous child when eventually she did call, my mood didn't improve, though, when she explained what she wanted: She said she needed some personal items and could I leave them at reception for her to collect? And no, she didn't think that we should meet just yet and would I please bear with her for just a little longer? I wanted to talk more, but she said she had to go and would call me later. I knew I was being fobbed off and finally grew tired of waiting and playing a passive part, so I decided it was time to act.

I dropped Lisa's suitcase at the reception and fetched my car. I chose a vantage point along the road from the hotel, from where I could watch the entrance. Half an hour later Lisa climbed from a taxi and walked into the reception. She was there no longer than a couple of minutes, and hurried back to the cab. I suspect she was wary of running into me.

I kept my distance, not wanting her to recognize our car, but it was easy to follow the taxi. We traveled only a couple of miles when she was dropped outside a large detached house, and to my surprise she entered, using her own key. I waited until I thought she was there to stay, and walked casually the hundred yards to the house. I made my way around the side, hoping nobody was watching, peering nervously into each window until I reached the back of the house. There was an open window and I could hear music. Sidling around the corner, I managed to peer into the kitchen. The music was coming from a small Hi-Fi on one wall, and there, more importantly, sitting alone at the table, was Lisa.

She was sipping from a cup of tea or coffee and reading a magazine. Everything seemed normal, everything except that she was wearing just panties; thigh-high hold-up stockings and black high heels.

I stood agape, marveling at how good she looked. Then I remembered that it was for the benefit of another person, another woman, and my mood darkened. I watched her for a while. It was clear that there was nobody else inside and I thought about confronting her, but just as I was working up the courage to knock on the door I heard the sound of a car engine. I shrank back, praying that I wasn't discovered. A minute later Lisa must have heard someone enter the house, as she stood and faced the kitchen door. I thought she would cover herself or at least show a little concern, but I couldn't believe my eyes when she dropped to her knees, and held her hands behind her back.

I thought my cock would burst from my trousers as I watched the scene unfold before me. I held my phone up, switched to video, telling myself this was the evidence I needed of Lisa's adultery, but inside I knew I would want to watch this recording time and again.

Lauren had entered the kitchen ignoring Lisa; she dropped a large carrier bag on the table and poured herself a glass of milk from the fridge. Then turning back she at last acknowledged my kneeling wife.

"Stand up," she said simply. Lisa struggled to her feet, keeping her hands clasped to her elbows behind her. She kept her head bowed as though she was frightened to look at her young partner. Lauren pulled something from the bag and walked to stand behind her. Lisa stood docile as a shiny black leather collar was fastened snugly around her neck. And that was the moment I instinctively reached for my phone camera.

Hooking a finger into the D ring on the front of the collar, Lauren guided Lisa to the table and pulled her down so she was bent over the smooth wooden surface. She removed a short crop from the bag and laid it on the table before Lisa's face. The meaning was obvious, and I was sure Lisa would call a halt to this whole thing. But instead she pushed herself harder against the table and closed her eyes.

Lauren took her time, walking around the table and stroking Lisa's flank, as though choosing where to start. Lisa had her eyes closed and her mouth open, taking shallow breaths. I had seen that expression on her face many times: she wasn't frightened, she was aroused. The first stroke made me cringe: it landed on the back of her knees, it wasn't too hard, but even so Lisa jerked and her eyes screwed tight. Lauren began to systematically strike the soft skin on the back of Lisa's thighs, and she squirmed, not through pain but with excitement, her breasts flattening on the table as her body writhed.

Lauren expertly flicked the crop, waiting a few seconds between each stroke, watching Lisa's reactions, and leaving perfectly parallel red stripes an inch apart from Lisa's knees up to her bottom. She paused to rest the crop on Lisa's back, and squatting down she hooked two fingers into the waistband of Lisa's black lace panties. It seemed to take an age for her to pull the knickers down the trembling legs, and she caressed the soft skin of Lisa's buttocks. Suddenly she slapped the proffered arse, drawing a gasp from Lisa, and another on the other cheek brought the same result.

Picking up the crop Lauren stroked it back and forth across Lisa's arse. "Are you ready, slut?" she asked, and she grinned when the only reply was a whimper.

Tap, tap, tap...She bounced the tip of the crop on Lisa's bum, then suddenly flexed her wrist to sting the flesh. This obviously hurt more because Lisa groaned and writhed, but she stayed flat to the table. This was repeated six more times, and at last she showed the pain by moving her hands to grip the table edge.

I could see the tendons standing out on her neck and her knuckles were white. I wanted to slam through the door to save her, to stop her pain, but suddenly Lauren stopped hitting her and I groaned and almost orgasmed as I watched what happened next.

Lauren released the crop to clatter on the floor and dropped to her knees behind Lisa. She pressed her lips to the punished flesh of Lisa's bottom, kissing away the pain. Holding Lisa's hips she smothered her bottom with kisses, her tongue leaving the red welts wet with saliva. Then, most intimately of all, she lightly licked the length of Lisa's arse, again and again, going deeper and firmer until she was using her hands to spread the buttocks, allowing her tongue to probe Lisa's bum. Her face was pressed hard against my wife's arse, licking and sucking, causing Lisa to writhe in ecstasy. Her back was arched into a bow, with her head straining back, stretching her neck. Her eyes were closed and her mouth open, and she emitted one long guttural moan. I had never, in all our time together seen Lisa experience so much pleasure. And it was the most erotic thing I had ever seen.