House of Cards Ch. 08

She teased me deliciously with her lips, using her hands to hold and gently stroke my balls and the base of my shaft. At times she dipped down and took about 4 inches of me into her mouth, then slid back and caressed just the head with her tongue. After five minutes she had me incredibly aroused—I was straining towards her mouth, groaning, wordlessly begging for release.

Without warning she let me go, stood up, smiled broadly at me and said, "good morning, Tom. How about a shower?" Then without another word she strolled into the bathroom and shut the door. In a moment I heard the water splashing in the shower stall.

I just laughed, feeling the exquisite pleasure and frustration of having been left so close to a terrific orgasm. I jumped out of bed, stretched, and wasted no time following her into the bathroom. When I climbed into the shower behind her she laughed happily at me, and embraced me tightly.

We soaped one another, enjoying the feeling not only of cock and pussy but of toes, armpits, ears, necks—everything! The washing started slow, but after a few minutes we were both very eager to get out of the shower and back into the bedroom. We raced out, ignoring our wet hair, hurriedly drying each other and throwing the towels aside. She got to the condoms first, and in no time she had rolled one onto me.

"Tom," she said with a smile, "how shall we do it this time? I want you to choose." I actually loved rear-entry, but I was afraid to put her in any position where she might feel vulnerable, or bring up unwelcome memories of Ben.

"Good old-fashioned missionary would be great for me," I replied. "I just love looking at you!" She arranged herself comfortably on her back, with a pillow under her head, and reached out to take me in her arms. "I am really looking forward to this," she said with a smile.

We were both too excited to be as leisurely as we had been the night before. Almost as soon as I was all the way inside her I felt the need to move. I tried to take a few deep breaths, longing to savor the feeling of my cock within her, then began thrusting slowly in and out. At first I stayed up on my arms, holding my chest above her and enjoying her beautiful smiling face as we coupled.

Then, within a few minutes, the feelings in my cock got so intense I had to increase the pace, and she put her hands on my back and pulled me down tightly to her. With my face against her shoulder I moved more rapidly inside her, feeling her hips roll up to meet each stroke. She began to groan lightly each time our bodies pushed together, and I got more and more aroused.

I began to whimper as my pleasure overcame me, and my rapid strokes grew more forceful. I was vaguely aware that I didn't want to be too rough, so I tried to hold back a little even as my orgasm roared through me. It felt like a tidal wave in my bloodstream, beginning at my cock and exploding in all directions through my body. I heard a loud animal groan, and wondered if it had been me. A moment later, I was drained of strength, and I collapsed onto Kristin, trying with my arms to keep my full weight off her.

I lazily kissed her ear and whispered sweet words into it, making her giggle. Then I realized that she probably hadn't come, and I raised up to look at her, the question in my eyes.

"It was wonderful, Tom," she said with a broad smile. "No, I didn't finish, but I loved it. You were so excited! It was thrilling. I don't always come from intercourse—but I feel SO good. Just rest with me." And she gently pulled me down on top of her again, where we lay comfortably together.

It was a half hour before we roused ourselves, and laughed as we realized we needed to shower again! This time we managed it without any sexy horseplay, and both of us dressed for the day.

I started to talk to Kristin about the day. "Maybe we shouldn't have breakfast together, Kristin, just for the sake of discretion. But how about we go somewhere nice in Atlanta for dinner tonight—somewhere with good beer?"

She took my hand, smiling a bit sadly at me, and led me over to the bed, where we both sat down. "Tom, let me say something. Last night was ... last night was so much more than I could have imagined. I hoped we could be ... good for each other, you know? Healing. Give each other a bit of comfort, and reassurance."

"And we did, of course. But it was so much more than that for me. Exciting, and sexy, and fun and relaxed. It was the most wonderful night I've ever spent with a man!"

I broke in, kissing her lightly, and told her that it had been just as wonderful for me. But she stopped me and went on.

"I don't think we should see each other again tonight. First, because nothing could possibly top last night! And I'd hate to feel that our second night together was a disappointment. But second, because it wouldn't be hard at all for me to start falling in love with you, and I don't want to take that chance."

Startled, I just looked at her. "Kristin, NOTHING that ever happened with you could disappoint me. We could sit side by side tonight and read the Yellow Pages and I'd have a good time!" She laughed.

"But I understand your point about maybe getting too attached. You're headed back to the West Coast, and me to Cleveland, where I'm hoping I will still be married after ... everything settles down. You are the most amazing, most lovely and special young woman I've ever met. The thought of not having more time together makes me sad—but I respect what you're saying."

She stood up, and I stood up too, and hugged her. "Promise me if you change your mind you'll come find me, OK?" I asked. She just smiled, and shook her head. "I'll see you in the sessions, Tom. And I'll smile at you across the room, and we'll both know what the smile means. All right?"

I nodded, and walked her to the door. After another gentle kiss and hug, and another smile from both of us, she went out into the hallway.

Saturday was a long, dull day for me. I did see Kristin in an afternoon session, and we did share a nice smile at a distance of 60 feet, but the rest of the papers didn't hold much interest.

I had dinner all by myself in a steakhouse in downtown Atlanta, thinking about Kristin, about Marianne, and about where my life was going. Then I headed back to the hotel and turned in, sitting up in bed with a mystery novel for a while before going to sleep.

I was astonished to hear a light knock on the door at 11:45, just as I was thinking of turning the light out. I peered through the eyehole to see Kristin, wearing a hotel terrycloth robe.

When I opened the door, a delighted smile on my face, she came right into my arms, and we hugged as I closed the door behind her. "I guess I ... spoke a bit too soon this morning," she said. "I really couldn't sleep tonight ... would it be all right if we just snuggled and went to sleep together?"

"What a wonderful surprise you are!" I replied. "Absolutely. This is the nicest thing that could have happened to me tonight!"

We were quickly naked together and curled up in the darkness, her nestled in front of me spoon-fashion. Kristin fell asleep within minutes, but I remained awake awhile, glorying in her wonderful smell and the feel of her slim body in my arms. Then I slept too.

********** My first conscious thought on awakening was that my arms were empty. Kristin must have gotten up early and gone back to her room. I sighed to myself, but as I prepared to throw back the covers I heard a slight noise, and the bathroom door swung quietly open.

For some reason I kept my eyes nearly shut, feigning sleep, while watching to see what Kristin would do. If she wanted to leave without waking me I would pretend to be asleep, so that she didn't feel obliged to give me an explanation.

Still naked, she looked at me, seemingly concluded I was asleep, then padded back to bed and snuggled in behind me, so that this time she was the bottom spoon, her chest and thighs pressed against my back.

What happened next filled me with joy. Very lightly and slowly, she began to move against me, stroking my arms and shoulders, gently moving her breasts against my back and her thighs against the back of mine. She reached her hands around me and let them glide across my chest, all the while caressing me with her own body. I felt her nipples harden, and after a few minutes she began to kiss the side of my neck, at the same time she slid one hand down and took my cock in her hand.

I endured this loving assault with utter pleasure, pretending that I was gradually awakening from her caresses. When I began to turn around to face her she gently stopped me, murmuring "shh", and rolled me back away from her.

Without knowing it Kristin was fulfilling one of my favorite—not quite "fantasies", but "preferences" in love-making. I am almost always ready and eager to make love with Marianne—or at least I was in the pre-affair days! So I was normally the one to take the initiative, and while Marianne usually seemed happy to make love, I never felt completely sure that she was as interested as I was. On the relatively rare occasions when she took the lead, it gave me pleasure to know that sex was something she really wanted, rather than it being something she was doing mainly to please me.

In bed with Kristin that Sunday morning, I was thrilled that she was choosing to pleasure and arouse me. She could have gone back to her room, or just returned to bed and dozed, but sex was HER choice. I reveled in the feeling of her breasts against my back, her breath in my ear, and her hands caressing my cock. She stroked me up and down until I was rock-hard, and began to murmur teasingly in my ear.

"Wow, this is a big one, Tom! What are you going to do with it? Are you ready to fuck me with this beautiful thing? Are you ready for me? are you?"

I suddenly rolled over and grabbed her into my arms, growling "what do you think?" as she giggled against me.

Then she said, more seriously, "Tom, doing it ... from behind used to be one of my favorite positions, before ... well, before Ben. Could we do that this time, but ... a little gently?"

That sounded like a great idea to me! I grabbed a condom, and arranged her comfortably with a couple of pillows under her middle, so that she didn't have to hold all her weight up on all fours. I got behind her, but instead of moving to enter her right away I caressed her beautiful pussy with my tongue, again enjoying her wonderful smell and taste. I licked all around her upper thighs, the edge where her thighs met her abdomen, her vaginal lips, and her clitoris. I didn't try to make her come, just gave her teasing pleasure as she had done to me.

Then I kneeled behind her and, using my hand to guide me, entered her very slowly and carefully. When I was all the way inside, I just rested there, sighing with the pleasure of her heat and tightness, stroking her back with my hands. I loved this position, and I adored being inside Kristin. Did being inside Marianne from behind feel this good? I couldn't remember, and at that moment I didn't give a damn.

Going slowly and gently was fine with me—I wanted the sex to last a long time. So we took our time, changing our pace and our rhythm from time to time, pausing while I held her breasts and tickled her nipples. It must have been 20 minutes before we built up to a climax. When I could tell she was very close, I reached beneath her and stroked her clitoris, all the while thrusting in and out, going faster but not too hard. Her orgasm made her shudder and clench her vagina around me, and I came into her only moments later, gasping with the pleasure of it.

Each time we made love, it had been a delight. I was filled with joy and gratitude to my generous, loving, and beautiful partner. I climbed off her and took her in my arms, and we lay together resting sweetly for a long time.

**********

At the airport that afternoon I was two hours early, with plenty of time to think. My farewell to Kristin had been bittersweet. We had exchanged addresses and many warm embraces, knowing that we would not see one another any time soon, if ever. Neither she nor I had seen the other as a potential long-term partner, just a port in a storm. But the connection we had made was very real—not just sexual, but a wonderful warmth and mutual understanding. I felt very lucky to have spent a short time with her.

Of course, my tryst with Kristin also affected how I felt about Marianne at that moment. This brief affair fit into the pattern that I had begun 2-3 weeks earlier, of being active in figuring out what I needed and then doing it, rather than just suffering as a passive victim of my wife's betrayal. Though I hadn't been aiming to do it, I had found out that I was still an attractive man to a woman, and still very much capable of being a satisfying and exciting lover. It wasn't that I seriously doubted those things—yet the pain of Marianne's cheating certainly had poked serious holes in my confidence.

She had said that her affair had nothing to do with me or with my love-making. She had said that she loved me completely, and that our sex-life together was exciting and satisfying for her. Very nice to hear—and very difficult to believe, when the words come from your wife who has just confessed to eight months of fucking someone else!

But Kristin had met me, liked me, wanted to be with me, and had been very excited and satisfied sexually with me. I didn't have to question that—I knew it was true, and it felt wonderful. In a small way, my time with her had restored to me some of what the revelation of Marianne's cheating had stolen from me.

I used my cell phone to check in with Andrea and Steve back in Cleveland. Andrea answered my call, and told me that the two of them had had lunch with Marianne on Saturday. According to Andrea, my wife was in a pretty serious, depressed mood, though they'd had some success cheering her up.

"I think your 'affair' with Carrie is really eating at her, Tom," Andrea continued. "In a good way, actually. One aspect of it is simply that she's very jealous; and frightened that you'll fall in love with Carrie, or just that having a new lover will make it easier for you to leave her."

"But beyond that, her feelings about you and Carrie have helped her understand much better how incredibly hurt and betrayed you feel. She can see that you must be agonizing about her and Eddie together just as she does about you and Carrie. It's obvious that you must suffer the pain of doubting her love, just as your involvement with Carrie makes her worry about your love for her. And she can see that it was much worse for you, because you were utterly deceived."

"So I don't know what you're thinking, Tom, but I'd advise you to keep 'Carrie' in the picture a while longer. But that's just me, the amateur shrink!" she laughed. "How are you, anyway?"

"I'm actually pretty good," I replied. "I've had an unexpectedly good time at this Atlanta meeting, and things seem to be looking up a bit. What you've told me about Marianne is encouraging news as well. Thank you for continuing to be friends to both of us—and thank you as well for keeping my secret."

"You're welcome, Tom," Andrea replied. "It would make Steve and me very happy if you and Marianne were able to work things out. We both remember what a great marriage ... I'm sorry Tom, maybe I shouldn't finish that sentence."

"It's okay, Andrea. I know: 'what a great marriage we used to have'. I don't think we'll ever have that marriage again—I don't see how we possibly can, or at least not for years. But perhaps we'll be able to put enough of the pieces back together that staying married will seem to make sense."

"Oh Tom, now you're starting to sound unhappy. I'm sorry I said the wrong thing!"

"No, Andrea, it's not your fault. Every once in a while I maybe get a bit too optimistic. Then all it takes is a little serious thinking to realize how big a problem this will be to solve. I'm better off being realistic about it."

We ended our call, and after another minute I called Marianne at home.

"Hello, honey, it's me calling from Atlanta."

"Hi Tom!" Marianne seemed glad to hear from me. "How are you, and how was the meeting?"

"The meeting was not bad. I'm a little tired, but that's the usual. Listen: how would you feel about our getting together tomorrow night, at the house? I would like to be there so we could call the kids together, since I've missed the last two Monday night phone calls. And we could talk some more. I know that our talks don't seem to leave either of us feeling all that happy, but I think we need to keep having them."

"That would be fine, Tom. Would ... would it be all right if I made dinner for us?"

I thought about this. I had previously refused to have her cook for me, but I had made dinner for her twice at the apartment. "All right, that would be nice. How about if I come around 7?"

"Perfect. You know ..." She hesitated, then started again. "You know I really miss you, Tom." She went on in a quieter voice. "I really want you to come home."

I waited a moment, trying to breathe deeply. Her saying that brought my rage flooding back—I would be at home if you hadn't been fucking Eddie behind my back, dammit!

"I know that, Marianne," I finally said. "I would like to get to the point where my coming home feels like the right thing to do. But we're not there yet."

"OK, honey," she said meekly. Then: "I'm looking forward to seeing you tomorrow."

"Me too," I said. "Goodbye Marianne."