Love Story

This is part 1 of a two part story. Part 2 will follow in due course.

Part 1 - Black is the new white

I met Debbie at university. I always had a feeling I was out of her league. She was dynamic, vivacious, intelligent and very attractive. I wasn't sure what she saw in me but, once I steeled myself to ask her out and she accepted, it was plain sailing. We dated until we graduated; her with a first class honours, me with a second. We married and had two children. I took a job as a software consultant and more or less stayed there. She became a marketing analyst and gradually worked her way up the profession to become, after twenty years, vice-president of marketing at a swish advertising company. We both lived and worked in London, England.

In her rôle, as vice-president, amongst other duties, she was responsible for looking at organisations that the advertising company could support on a charitable basis. As a result, she was often out at award dinners, smart charity balls and the like. Sometimes I went with her and sometimes I didn't. By now our children had moved out and we saw little of them, so it was just the two of us in our house. Of course, Debbie brought home a far larger salary than I did and contributed much more to our comfortable life-style. In a way I was a kept man and while this made me a little depressed at times I often found it a turn on. When Debbie dolled herself up in a smart frock and makeup she still dazzled, even in her mid-forties. When she left me to go to one of these functions on her own I still marvelled that she had married me and that we were still married some twenty-five years later. But at the same time I couldn't help but wonder whether she might meet someone at the dinner or ball she attended. Might she be dancing close with someone. Might she decide that he was a better bet than I was. Debbie gave me no justification for thinking this. Even when I mentioned something like that she laughed and passed it off as a good joke on my part. Our sex life was great and abundant. We both enjoyed making love and did it often - but just with each other!

However, whenever she went out for an evening event this doubt gnawed at me. And, as it did so, I found I became increasingly excited. If she was not back when I expected her I would fantasise about her being fucked by someone and then bring myself to a wonderful orgasm. When she eventually returned I would wait for her to peel off her underwear and then, in the quiet of the bathroom, take them out of the laundry basket and examine them for incriminating evidence. But there never was any. I was relieved. I was disappointed. I was confused.

At around the end of the year, the last Friday before Christmas, there was a particularly big award ceremony. The award ceremony was to be held at a plush location in the West End, in Central London.

There were many awards to be handed out at this ceremony but the most important was for Charity of the Year. Debbie had been asked to give out the awards and in honour of the occasion had bought a spectacular dress which, although it was fully covered at the front, was bare at the back to just below her waist and had a long slit up one leg. I had never seen her in anything so sexy before. She was also wearing seriously high heels. I'd never seen her in anything other than kitten heels before. She explained that this was a really important do and so she thought she ought to make an effort. I was pleased that I was going with her to the ceremony, both to be in the company of such a glamorous woman, and to keep an eye on her. I couldn't wait to get her back home and make love to her.

The ceremony comprised dinner, the awards and then dancing. There must have been at least five hundred people present and the noise over dinner was tremendous. Debbie was seated on the opposite side to me on a circular table so I did not have much chance to talk to her but she passed me the occasional smile in between talking animatedly to the men on either side of her. My two female neighbours were not particularly interesting but I did my best to chat and entertain them.

Eventually dinner finished and Debbie left the table to go up on stage to present the awards. The stage was about fifty yards from our table with a lot of other tables and a dance floor in the way, between which Debbie had to skirt until she reached the stage. Her deft and elegant progress in her split dress and high heels entranced me.

There were about twenty awards and they were handed out to much applause. But everyone was waiting for the big one - Charity of the Year. At last Debbie announced the winner. I forget the name but it was for a unique service that provided water in drought ridden parts of Africa. The chairman of this charity, David Hillier, came forward to collect the prize. In reciting what he had done it was clear that Debbie was particularly impressed. I could see that she was excited to meet him and it was clear, when he mounted the stage to collect his award, that the fact he was a tall, hunky, good looking man in his late forties only increased her fascination. After David Hillier had given his short speech of thanks Debbie announced that there would now be dancing.

The area for dancing was just in front of the stage. So, as the band gathered on the stage and started playing couples began to leave their tables to congregate on the dance floor. I waited impatiently for Debbie to return to our table but she was still on the stage talking to this David Hillier. After about fifteen minutes they both left the stage but instead of coming back to our table Debbie and David stopped on the dance floor and began dancing. Debbie really enjoyed dancing whereas I was rather clumsy. There was some old rock and roll music playing and I saw Debbie jiving with David. They were both good. I watched rather enviously as David whirled Debbie round. They ended up at one point with their hands tightly closed on each other, their arms stretched out and their bodies angled at forty -five degrees to the floor. It was quite impressive. For a time, people stopped dancing to watch them. Gradually the lights were dimmed to provide a more relaxed atmosphere, so it was a little difficult to see Debbie clearly, but I could still make out their two heads as they mingled with the crowd of dancers. After they had been dancing for twenty minutes a slow number started and I saw them both put their arms around each other's waists. They seemed to be talking and laughing and generally enjoying each other's company. Debbie seemed to have quite forgotten me. I watched as their heads got closer together, still talking, still laughing. When their heads were about three inches apart they paused in their movement and then, at the same moment, each moved their head forward until their lips touched. My heart was thundering in my chest. Was Debbie really kissing a man yards from where I was sitting? I rubbed my eyes and stared again. There was no doubt: their lips were locked tightly together, not so much passionately as determinedly, as if they had no doubt it was the right thing for them to do.

They danced for another fifteen minutes with their arms tight around each other. Their two bodies seemed to move as one. Eventually they stopped dancing and they walked back through the crowd to our table. As they did so I could see that they were holding hands. I could not believe it. My mouth was dry and I could barely swallow. I think I was in some kind of shock. As they came to our table David asked Debbie if she would like a drink. He had a deep, rich voice which matched his look and build. Debbie said she would. Just before they released their hands they turned to each other and, right in front of me, kissed each other deeply on the lips. Then David was gone.

Debbie came to my side of the table and sat down next to me. As she did so she swung one long beautiful leg over the other; the slit on the side of her dress meant that she was showing bare leg almost up to her waist. I was unbelievably excited and kept my hand over my crotch to hide my erection.

Debbie leant forward and touched my hand with hers.

"Oh darling," she said, "David is such a fascinating man. He's a wealthy entrepreneur but he's now devoting himself to helping Africa. He's done so much to help sort out the drought in Africa. These inventions he's worked on are so original. I know you'll be as impressed by them as I am when you read about them."

"Debbie! What's going on? You were kissing him on the lips."

"Oh, I know. I couldn't help it. It seemed inevitable. I felt I had to return something to him, to give him something more than just the award. I felt he deserved it."

I didn't know what to say. My mouth was so dry I could hardly speak anyway. Debbie moved her chair closer to me. She looked more animated and excited than I'd ever seen her before. Taking my hand, she drew it through the slit in her dress to her crotch. It was soaking wet.

"Can you feel it?"

I nodded mutely. I was in a daze - this behaviour was so unlike my wife.

"You can feel how wet I am?" Debbie shook her head. "I don't understand what's happening but David is such an amazing man. I find him so exciting. I've never felt like this before... Darling?" She took my face in her hands and looked at me. "You're going to be shocked, but I really want to sleep with him."

My hands started to shake. "You're asking my permission to sleep with another man?"

Debbie shook her head again. "No, darling, I'm not asking your permission." Her voice was soft and almost dreamy. "I'm just explaining to you why I'm going to be making love to David tonight."

I could scarcely believe this was happening. I just stared at her.

"Debbie, what are you saying? Don't you care how that makes me feel?" I mumbled.

She looked deeply at me. "I know this must hurt you. Of course it does. But I can't be sorry, I can't apologise. It's something I have to do. I know you love me. You do, don't you? She looked at me earnestly.

"Of course I do."

"As I do you. Very much. And I need you to be with me in this. I need you to support me. You don't think I would do anything casually or gratuitously, do you?"

She smiled reassuringly at me as David came up with a drink for her. She took the drink, downed it quickly and then stood up.

"Darling, I don't know what time I'll be home tonight. In fact," she looked at David and then back at me, "I probably won't be home until tomorrow. So please don't worry about me." She bent down to kiss me softly on the lips and then turned to David.

"David, I want to do a lot more dancing, before we leave." Then she gripped his hand firmly in hers and together they walked back to the dance floor.

They merged into the crowd of dancers and, as almost everyone was dancing now, I could barely see them anymore. When I did they were kissing or chatting. I had hardly said anything to Debbie. Why hadn't I protested more? Was it because it was clearly something she wanted to do, something she was determined to do and nothing I could say was going to stop her? Was it because I was so shocked - too stunned to say anything? Or was it because I was secretly and overwhelmingly excited?

I adored Debbie, I would do anything to make her happy. But would I let her sleep with another man? Would I, unless I had a secret agenda of my own? She had no idea how I felt. She was doing this because she wanted to, without caring about my feelings. That was clear. Of course, her very uncaring determination was, in itself, exciting. As I caught occasional sight of my beautiful wife dancing closely with another man, I felt my heart breaking. But my dick was as hard as it had ever been. Harder! I stood up and stumbled into the restroom. In one of the cubicles I brought myself to an overwhelming orgasm. I was gasping as I finished and sat down on the toilet seat. I remained there wondering about the state of my marriage.

I don't know how long I was there for but when I returned to the main hall about half the people had gone and there was no sign of Debbie or David. Now that I had come I was just feeling wretched and miserable. I didn't want Debbie to leave me. I left the hall and went back to our dark, silent house.

As soon as I got into bed exhaustion and stress overcame me and I fell into a deep, surprisingly dreamless, sleep. I was awoken by the phone ringing. The sun was shining into the room. I looked at the clock - it was just after ten o'clock - and grabbed the phone.

"Darling?" It was Debbie. "Are you okay? I tried calling earlier but there was no answer."

"Yeah, I'm okay." I deliberately kept my voice emotionless. There was silence from the other end, just the sound of Debbie's light breathing.

"Debbie?"

"You must hate me. You must really hate me."

"No, of course I don't hate you. I just don't understand you. And I'm scared you don't love me anymore. Scared you're going to leave me."

"Darling, I love you so much. I will never leave you. Please believe me."

"What about David?"

"David is a different person to you. So different that I can't believe I'm so attracted to him."

"You haven't changed your mind about him?"

"No, of course not." She sounded surprised, puzzled, and, indeed, hurt. "You know I don't do things casually." She sighed. "I adore David even more now than I did last night."

"He's a good lover then?"

"Yes, if you must know. If you're determined to hurt yourself."

"It's you, who's hurting me."

"I know, I know. And I don't like hurting you. I really don't. I wish I could do this without hurting you. I wish you were one of those men who were turned on by their wife having an affair. But I know you're not like that." She thought for a moment. "I don't think I'd care for you if you were."

I gulped but didn't respond, saying, instead, "What happens now? When are you coming home?"

"Well... I really want to spend the day with David. There are some things about his charity he wants to show me. And then there's this friend of his, Pete Horgan, you know the painter who's just won the Turner Prize? There's a party at his home tonight and I do so want to go to it."

"So you're not coming back tonight?" My voice sounded whining and pathetic even to me. I couldn't help it.

"You poor thing. It's not your fault and yet you're suffering. I'll try and get home tomorrow. I have to go now. I have a lot to do today. Bye, darling. I love you." She blew a kiss down the phone and then hung up.

I put the phone back down in its cradle and wondered what I was going to do today. The weekend was the time that Debbie and I spent together. On my own I felt lost and empty. A long Saturday stretched on front of me. There was shopping to do and some washing and I did this by midday. I decided to take myself to the cinema in the afternoon, something I'd not done since I was a teenager. But the film did nothing to distract me. I found my thoughts wandering to Debbie, wondering what she was doing.

I left the cinema and wandered into a coffee shop. Over a coffee I pulled out my phone and called up the 'Find my Friends' app. I could see where Debbie was on the map. She had no reason, of course, to hide her whereabouts. I knew all about her affair. She seemed to be at an address in Mayfair in the centre of London. The thought of going there was irresistible. Was this where David lived? It was four-thirty. I wasn't far away - a short brisk walk brought me to a town house in Mount Street. According to my app Debbie was here! Fortunately, a restaurant on the other side of the road provided a good vantage point. I had had no lunch and so ordered a light meal and sat there eating very slowly. It was about an hour and a half later that I saw Debbie emerge with David. She was wearing a simple, but obviously expensive, beautifully cut black dress, that she must have bought that day. It was short, not too short, but short enough to show off her gorgeous long legs. A pair of black high heel shoes completed the outfit. She looked so lovely I felt my heart breaking. I could run up to her and tell her that her actions were out of order, but what was the point? I loved her. I didn't want her to leave me. She could do what she wanted. She was doing what she wanted. David quickly and efficiently flagged down a taxi and they climbed inside and were gone. My dick was once again hard as a steel pole. I hurried home and brought myself off to a desperate orgasm.

Once again I had an amazingly peaceful night. I was feeling lonely and hurt, of course, but, also, strangely, and vicariously, pleased that Debbie was obviously having a good time. I was also in a permanent state of excitement. Waiting for Debbie to come home, from spending a weekend with another man, was almost making me feel high. I busied myself doing a few jobs around the house, made a quick lunch and then watched a film on the tv. At four o'clock I heard a car drive up to the house. I peeked through the window and saw Debbie emerge from a taxi. She was wearing the outfit she had worn the previous night and was carrying a bag, obviously containing her dress from Friday. I opened the door and welcomed her. She beamed at me. She looked so relaxed, so full of life and well-being. She threw her arms around my neck and kissed me deeply.

"You are such a wonderful husband," she said, "I'm so lucky to have you. I think you really understand me, don't you?" She walked into the house and I closed the door behind her. She turned to face me and sighed. "You saw how excited I was to meet David but you didn't try to stop me because you knew that it was what I wanted, what I needed to do. David just got to me. I just had to fuck him. I just had to have him fuck the living daylights out of me."

I gaped. Debbie had never used such language before. She dropped onto the sofa and laughed. "I know, I know. It's just the effect David has on me." She looked at me with a sexy smile. "But you know what I want more than anything else in the world right now? I want to feel your tongue on my pussy. I want my wonderful husband down on his knees in front of me licking away for all he's worth." She lifted herself up to remove her panties, although I saw it was a thong she pulled down. "It's all part of this new outfit that I bought with David," she explained. "Come on," she said, as separated her legs. "And don't worry, I had a shower before I left David's." I think I was disappointed when I heard that but I didn't wait for a second invitation as I sank down and dived in. "Yessss...," she hissed, as she put her hands on my head and pulled me in hard. I worked away for about ten minutes and then heard her howl as she started banging her crotch against my head.

"Wow!" she said as I emerged from between her thighs. "David's just given me the best fuck of my life and that was the icing on my weekend cake." My dick was huge. I had to have her now. I stood up and started to drop my trousers. "Not now, darling," she said, "I'm sorry but I'm just a bit sore. Later, I promise. I'm looking forward to it. But now I really need to have a rest. You can probably imagine I didn't get much rest over the weekend!" She embraced me and gave me another deep kiss. "You're wonderful, you are amazing!" she murmured as she left me to go upstairs to the bed room.

I picked up her thong, which was still lying on the floor, and put it to my nose. I breathed in her scent. I licked the centre wondering if there would be the salty tang of semen but I tasted only her juices.

I slumped in front of the tv and I think I must have dozed off because the next thing I knew Debbie was gently shaking me.

"Wake up, darling. We need to talk." I looked up to see Debbie beaming at me. She dropped down on the sofa next to me and took my hand. "You've been so understanding. I love you for it. But we need to talk about the future."