Faith and Faithfulness

Many thanks to donaldelliot11 for editing. I watched a bunch of Twilight Zone episodes around the time I was inspired to write this.

*****

Greg's wife, Kim, was in London on business for the week. They'd only been married a few years, but like most married men Greg looked forward to a few days of freedom, hanging out with his friends, doing what he wanted to do.

On Saturday night he met his single friends at a local bar. He went out fully intending to be a wingman, but the drunker he got, the more he rationalized that he also had needs, and if the opportunity for easy sex or a quick blowjob presented itself, maybe he'd take it up.

Alas, nothing happened, and after an underwhelming night, he found himself sitting in front of his laptop with 13 tabs open and his wife's panties in his right hand. He lubed up his rock-hard dick, a dick his wife dutifully sucked twice a week, a dick his wife let take her virgin ass, in short, a dick that was never short of his wife's attention.

Yet Greg, hornier than ever, still contemplated dipping it in some strange pussy, even making efforts to do so, less than 24 hours after his well-paid, faithful wife departed on business. On screen he watched a beautiful blonde (similar to his wife in fact - Greg loved blondes) get fingered for Euros by another woman in a snowy Czech park, and he dreamed of a wild sex life.

His hand gripping the lubed up shaft of his well-proportioned if average sized penis, he cursed himself and absentmindedly said a little prayer. It wasn't a prayer one would find endorsed by any church, it was more a personal pleading, a complaint, to himself: "Oh God I feel so trapped. I love my wife, but God I miss the thrill of the chase, the unknown. Please help me."

The next day, Sunday, Greg went golfing with friends. After 18 holes, they sat in the clubhouse drinking beer and flirting with the bartender, Linda. She was a cute little brunette Latina with too tight pants and big bouncy breasts. His phone beeped and he saw his wife, Kim, texting him. Greg and Kim lived in Seattle, so London was 8 hours ahead. His wife asked if he had time to chat. He sighed and dialed Kim.

"Oh honey, I'm so glad to talk to you! I've had such a great time!" Kim said.

"Yeah?" Greg said absentmindedly, as Linda leaned over the bar joking with the guys, her brown tits jiggling in her low cut top. He caught a glimpse of her big areolae.

Kim happily recounted the great day she had, touring various sites like the Tower of London, and seeing Big Ben. Greg nodded absentmindedly as Linda caught his eye and smiled. Kim told him she was about to turn in for the night, and they said they loved each other (Greg perhaps a little lower than normal because it felt wrong and he didn't want to be overheard saying sweet nothings on the phone). After hanging up Greg tried to flirt again, but Linda, having heard the conversation despite Greg's sneaky ways, turned her attention to Greg's friends.

Again he ended up in front of the computer watching a model, who reminded him of the bartender, Linda, leaking cum from her gaping pussy. He spurted his load into a second pair of his wife's panties, his warm sperm dripping through the lace. Absentmindedly rubbing the wet panties on his balls, he said another prayer, another whining complaint really, to the higher power: "Please Lord, I love Kim but I gotta experience another pussy sometimes. Not often, just sometimes. Is that so bad? Please help me. Amen."

Greg wasn't a religious man, but his upbringing endeared him to this peculiar habit.

He felt warm and woozy as he stood up, and attributed it to slight dehydration brought on by the hot sun and too much alcohol.

The next day he stopped by the desk of his favorite secretary, an administrative assistant who was partial to dressing like a bimbo, makeup and hair overdone. He asked her to lunch and, tapping her red lacquered nails on the desk, she accepted.

He took her to a nice Italian restaurant and they drank wine and flirted, but Greg crossed the line.

"Mr. S_", said his big breasted lunch date, "I don't think that's very appropriate. I like you, but you really should go home to your wife and talk to her like that."

Red faced, Greg escorted her back to the office, apologizing profusely for his unseemly advances (and hoping HR wouldn't pay him an unwelcome visit). The secretary's words had snapped him back to reality, and he felt foolish. To make matters worse, when he returned to his computer he found his wife instant messaged him in her loving, good natured way.

"Oh honey, I love you! I had such a great day. You are such a great husband. I'm so lucky to have you!"

He truly felt guilty. She was a great woman. "I love you too, babe," he said, and he meant it, he really did.

What she said next drove home the point. "Honey, I have a favor to ask. One of my coworkers here, he's been assigned to show me around. He asked if I wanted to see a show this evening. He said we can get tickets cheap. Would you be upset if I went with him?"

"A date at the movies?"

"No!" she laughed, "A live show, a musical, and it's not a date! I still thought I should run it by you."

"Yeah, fine by me," Greg said, bewildered. "I can trust you right?"

Kim laughed; of course it was a joke. She blew him a kiss over the screen and again told Greg how lucky she was to have him as a husband. He realized she looked incredible, prettier than any girl he'd lusted after this week.

Greg got back to work, but in the back of his mind, he thought about his wife's request. She was so incredibly honest. He felt guilty for acting like a cad, while she, thousands of miles away, informed him of an innocent trip to the theater.

Nevertheless, between his wife's beauty and the big-boobed secretary, he had a boner and a bad case of blue balls. He slipped out of his office to the restroom. He closed his eyes and grabbed his hard penis and stroked as he stood over the toilet. Pre-cum lubing his shaft, he was lucky he was alone because the wet sound of masturbatory strokes echoed off the bathroom tile.

He climaxed with ease and said, "Oh God, thank you for blessing me with a wife who loves me. I'm such a lucky bastard. Give me wisdom and correct my ways. Punish me if you must, I trust your judgement. Thank you lord. Amen."

As he zipped up he suddenly felt warm and lost his balance, tipping against the bathroom stall before recovering.

He returned to his desk and shook off this odd fainting spell. He vowed to drink more water and get more sleep.

A few hours later, he was home when he received a text from his wife telling him she was back. He asked how the show went. She told him it was great but "That's the last time I do that!"

"Meaning?" asked Greg.

Kim typed, "Matt got a little carried away. After the show, he invited me to a nice little pub and he tried to kiss me!" She added a little smiley emoji.

Greg stared at what she'd written. This Matt guy tried to kiss his wife? The irony! Ain't Karma a bitch, he chuckled to himself, aware of the cosmic justice and thought, "Hey Lord, that was a good one. I deserved that."

He called Kim, and they had a good laugh over it and she said goodnight.

Tuesday started out uneventfully. Kim called from her hotel room to let Greg know she was turning in early. That evening one of Greg's friends called and asked if he wanted to check out a strip club.

"On a Tuesday?" Greg laughed, but his friend said he knew a dancer but didn't want to go alone.

Greg's wife didn't mind if he looked at naked women. She understood Greg and appreciated his masculine desires, but it was an unspoken rule that he behave appropriately.

That night both men had a good time, tucking bills into G-strings, in the process brushing pussy lips with the backs of their fingers. Greg got a lap-dance and as the dancer moved her body against him he could smell the talcum powder and baby oil. Combined with the alcohol, his mind went back to his old ways.

He offered her a little bit more if she'd play with his penis. She took out a condom and unrolled it onto him, then stroked his pecker until his testicles tightened and semen filled the latex reservoir. Immediately Greg felt guilty - very, very guilty. He closed his eyes and looked at the ceiling.

"Sorry Lord, forgive me. I'll take whatever punishment you deem appropriate. Amen." He went to stand up and got that woozy feeling again and felt feverish for a few minutes.

The next day he felt joy when Kim texted him and they entered a video chat. She looked even more beautiful than the day before. She explained she only needed to work a half day and was able to take in the British Museum and Hyde Park. Greg couldn't wait for her to fly home.

"I just wanted to tell you how grateful I am you let me come," Kim said.

He guiltily thought about his indiscretion the previous evening. "You deserve it, honey. I know how hard you work."

"I'm still very lucky."

"I'm the lucky one."

They both looked at each other. The long distance and iffy internet connection made the video jump and skip, but they beamed at one another. Greg felt more in love than ever. Distance really does makes the heart grow fonder, he thought.

Greg broke the silence. "So, what are you going to do tomorrow, your last full day?"

Kim smiled with excitement. "Well, I have more training to run, but I should get out early. I'm going to do another walking tour tomorrow. I've been invited out next evening for a farewell party, to celebrate my last night here. Is that okay with you?"

Greg gulped, his heart speeding up a notch. "Will Matt be there?"

Kim nodded, "Yeah... but don't you worry. It's a big group."

Greg remained silent, contemplating the situation.

Kim twisted in her chair, laughing. "Are you a little worried?"

"Of course not," lied Greg.

"You don't trust me?" Kim teased, "A pretty girl in London going to the pub with horny co-workers?"

"Oh I cannot wait for you to get back!" Greg laughed, but he felt a hot ball of lead form in the pit of his stomach. Of course, I should let her go, he thought, this is my punishment. Take it like a man.

"Okay, okay. Have fun. Don't drink too much."

"I love you honey!" Kim said, blowing a kiss to the screen. "You're the best."

"You're the best," Greg answered.

"I like that you're jealous. It means you still love me," and Kim winked at him, blowing another kiss.

--

Greg checked Kim's online status the next day after lunch. She wasn't on, but considering she said she'd be out this evening, this was expected. After 10 p.m. London time he sent her a text.

Greg: Hope all okay? Miss our chats.

Kim: Hi honey! Miss you! All good.

Greg: Are you at a pub? Back yet?

Kim: No. Having fun. DRUNK.

This was slightly unnerving.

Greg: Okay, pace yourself. Love you!

Kim: Luv you too! Xoxo

Greg sat at his desk, trying to concentrate, but couldn't. The more he thought about his wife getting drunk in London with Matt there, even if it was in a group, the more it drove him nuts. He packed his things and left early, leaving by a side door so his boss wouldn't notice.

Two hours later he was home, his mind inventing tawdry scenarios starring his drunk wife, some much worse than Matt trying to kiss her. He sent a series of progressively more panicky texts:

Greg: You there?

Greg: You're worrying me, all okay?

Greg: Please call me!

She didn't answer her phone, and he repeatedly called the hotel room directly. Every time it went to guest voice mail he felt sick. Finally around 1 a.m. London time a voice answered.

"Hello?" Said a strange male voice. Thankfully Greg heard others in the background.

"I'm looking for Kim S_, this is her husband. Who is this?" Greg seethed.

"Oh hello Greg! Kim told us all about you. Hold a moment, she's..erm..in the ladies room."

The guy sounded drunk. Greg heard him call out "Kim, your fantastic husband you told us about is on the phone".

Greg clearly heard somebody say, oh shit, to general laughter.

Greg steamed as he listened to a bunch of men chatter and bicker like loud drunks until Kim finally picked up the phone.

"Hello Greg," Kim said.

Greg felt relief at hearing her sweet voice, but barked, "Who's in the room with you?"

"A few guys from work, even a girl!" Kim laughed, "Wait.." and she yelled to the others, "Is Rachel here? I thought Rachel was here."

"She stayed on the train for home," a voice answered.

This wasn't good, Greg realized.

"Are you drunk?"

"A little," Kim yelled at somebody in the room, "Please don't touch that! NO! That's my UNDERWEAR you idiot!" and everybody laughed.

"Kim!" Greg yelled, "Kim, listen to me."

Kim attempted to shush the room. "Shut up I can't hear!"

"Kim, listen to me."

"What?"

"They need to go now. I want you to tell them to go. I'm staying on the line."

"Okay GUYS time to GO. My husband is laying down the law!" Kim laughed like it was the funniest thing she ever said, and Greg heard the others laugh with her. There were complaints, but Greg insisted on holding the line until they all bid their goodbyes.

"Are you okay?" Greg asked, relieved.

"I'm feeling gooood," Kim whispered, "Greg. I wish you were here. I'm so horny."

Oh thank God they left, Greg thought.

"I wish you were here too," he said.

Kim giggled and she whispered softly, as if telling a nice juicy piece of gossip, "I wish you were here to lick my pussy. I need my pussy licked."

Damn, she's really drunk, Greg thought. Out of curiosity he asked, "Why are you so horny? Was Matt there?"

"Of course," Kim said.

"Was he in the hotel room just now?"

"Yes," Kim said.

Greg heard himself say, "If you were single, would you find Matt attractive?"

"Oh God yes," Kim said too quickly, "I'm so glad you called. You're the best husband."

"I'm not really."

"You may have saved me from doing something really stupid," Kim whispered.

"We all do stupid things," Greg said.

"Not you. You're the best..."

Greg felt awful as he remembered the lap-dancer's hand-job.

The conversation turned goofy, each telling the other how much they loved one another, how much they wanted each other, laughing like a new couple. Greg couldn't bear to hang up on his beautiful wife.

Finally Kim said, "I'm tired. Good night. Love you," and Greg heard the phone drop but it didn't hang up.

"Kim?" Greg asked, but there was no response. He could hear movement. She must have put the phone receiver down without properly hanging up.

"I love you too," Greg said into the phone, knowing she probably couldn't hear it.

He felt relieved. Disaster had been averted. And then he wondered, ever so briefly, if maybe his buddy wanted to go back to the strip club.

No, that would be stupid, he said to himself. But another part of him said, you might not get another chance, and after all, you won't see her for another 24 hours at least...

He hadn't decided long, but he made the decision. He mentally calculated he needed another $300, no $400, from the ATM, because maybe he could get a blowjob.

All these thoughts happened in a fraction of a second, before Greg was able to hang up, when he heard the door knock over the phone, clear as a bell.

He froze, listening to Kim say "Who is it?" then more movement and she said, "Matt!"

"Sorry... forgot my jacket," Matt said, barely audible.

"I can't believe you're here," Kim said. Greg felt sick as he heard them shuffle around. Matt said something inaudible again, and Kim said, "Maybe you can crash here instead?"

Greg yelled into his phone, "Get him out of there! Kim, make him leave!"

Greg struggled to listen as they made small talk for a few minutes, half of it unintelligible.

"Lights off?" Matt called out.

"If you want," Kim said.

Like a zombie, Greg stayed on the phone, listening to nothing for a few minutes. He hoped they fell asleep. He held the phone to his ear and got a drink of water and sat on the couch. This phone bill will be ridiculous. He wondered if she had two beds in the room. He really hoped there were two beds.

He almost zoned out himself when he heard her say, "Stop"...more laughter and "I'm married it's wrong." She didn't sound upset. She sounded excited.

"No! Kim! Stop!" screamed Greg into the phone.

Greg tried to calm down, but fact were facts. His wife was thousands of miles away, drunk, telling some guy she'd invited to spend the night "Stop", and "I'm married; it's wrong." He listened in frustration as he heard them speaking softly, unintelligibly softly. There was more laughter. She didn't kick him out.

Greg sat back, staring helplessly at the ceiling as he strained to hear them. This couldn't be happening. Not with Kim. Maybe they were just talking. Maybe Matt listened and was now behaving himself.

And then he heard the moan - high pitched and drawn out. He knew that sound.

Kim, his fantastic beautiful wife, his queen who he adored and worshiped, she was on her way to orgasm. Matt was making her orgasm.

He screamed into the receiver "Stop it, stop it, this is Greg, please stop it. Kim, I love you! Stop it now! Please!"

As if to mock him Kim didn't stop it, but grew bold. "Yes," she said, "Right there, oh God yes, touch me there!"

Greg felt sick as she moaned louder, her voice cresting, and strangely he thought, she sounds beautiful when she cums.

The moans passed, and the whispers turned to soft laughter. He heard Matt, that son of a bitch, say "Just play with it, don't be scared."

"Kimberly wants a lolly!" she said, in a bad British accent. "Oh fuck you're huge!"

Play with it? Lolly? Huge? No no no! He listened carefully as one of his worst nightmares unfolded. There was more giggling and strange sounds, maybe stroking, maybe slurping.

"I'll feel like a pole dancer with this thing," Kim giggled, "Want a lap-dance?"

"Sit on my pole?" Matt joked.

Fuck no! It couldn't be a coincidence; lap-dance, strippers...

I'm sorry God, thought Greg. I didn't mean it. I wasn't going to do it. But inside he knew the truth. And worse, he was now lying. Inside he knew he had to face up to it.

Greg begged, "Please God. I know I've not always been the greatest guy. I'll do anything. Just make it better. I'll be a better person. I won't get mad at her. We'll work through it. I'll accept your punishment. Just make it better. Please!!"

Greg heard more slurping, and as an afterthought, Greg said "Amen" because that's what a prayer needs to be official.

The warmth he felt in the lap dance booth and the bathroom stall came over him, but harder, way harder. His heart raced as heat radiated through his limbs. He detected an odd scent, like ozone after a lightning storm.

His penis, previously shriveled in fear and horror, began to grow. His balls descended from his groin. Something flipped in his brain and his testicles began producing seminal fluid. Blood filled the spongy cavities of his penis, making it iron hard and throbbing with each beat of his heart.

Feeling feverish, he unbuttoned his shirt, tossing it. He still felt warm, oh so warm, so he unbuckled his pants and kicked them off so he was now naked and vulnerable, his penis hard and aroused.

And then two incredible things happened, miracles to rival any of the modern saints. He felt a great pressure, like the hand of God reaching down through the heavens, pushing him down and back against the couch. He could not move, but sat naked (excepting his socks) and paralyzed.

The audio from the phone became clearer, too clear, and Greg felt his eyes glaze over as if going into a dream and everything became dark and cloudy but he could still hear his wife laughing and talking to Matt, more loudly still. "Have you ever licked American pussy?" she asked.