Vacation Argument

I thought again of the dance club floor, the taxi. I remembered looking for her. But I didn't think she was done with what she had to say, so I held my tongue.

"And I want to tell you," she said slowly, "that I was wrong, and you were right. And I'm sorry. Sorry for what I did to you, sorry for this week, sorry for denying you. For everything." And just like that, she appeared done. I sat back from her and absorbed, questions running through my head, all at once, trying to order them in my mind. She'd been forthcoming, but not clear, and I needed clarification.

"When you went out and had fun," I began, "what do you mean?"

She gritted her teeth and sucked a breath through them. "I can't tell you, not now. But I will. After we get home, I swear. I need to," she fumbled, "get my head around it a little, first."

"Uh huh," I nodded. "Did you happen to stop by a club named Luna?" The images of her kissing that guy, that girl, getting into the cab. That miniskirt. My head was a whirl of confusion.

"Yes. I went to a few. But, yes, Luna was one, I think."

"Tuesday night?"

"Maybe," she answered. "It's kind of a jumble, frankly."

"I was there that night," I told her. I angled my head. "I thought I saw you. Someone who looked like you, anyway." Her eyes dropped from mine. I lifted a hand to her chin and pulled her face up, gently, to look at me. "She was as beautiful as you, anyway. She didn't act like you, though. She was," I paused, "wild. Dressed pretty hot, and acting like," I paused again, "like a wild woman." She blushed. I described what I had seen, and the red deepened on her face. "Was that you? It resembled you."

Her hands went to her face after her mouth dropped open. "Oh, God, I'm so sorry, I-" she muttered through her fingers. "You were there?"

I nodded. I told what I saw when she was leaving, getting in the taxi. Her blush deepened and she pulled her eyes from mine, dropping her head.

"Can you ever forgive me?"

"For what?" I asked. "For arguing with me?"

"For trying to hurt you. For-" her eyes drifted, looking at an image far away, seeing something else. She turned to me. "I did things, this week," she whispered. Her lips tightened, and she bit her upper lip. "Bad things. I-" she stalled, "I did things you talk about." Her eyes lowered again, and so did her voice. I could barely hear her say, "Can you forgive me?"

"I don't know," I answered honestly. "I don't know what you've done. Why don't you tell me?"

"I don't think I can," she whispered. She got that unfocused, faraway look in her eyes again. I waited a second, but she drifted, remembering.

"Hey," I said, touching her arm. "You can't tell me?" I watched a flash of guilt touch her face. "It's so bad you can't tell me? And you want me to forgive you?"

"I didn't say it was bad, I said I couldn't tell you." She swallowed. "I'm not ready."

"Then how can I think about forgiving you?"

"You don't understand," she explained, and shook her head. "I don't think I'm explaining it right." She turned to me, our knees touching. I tried to pull away, but she took my hands in hers. "When I said you were right, I meant I understood. I get it now, why you want those things, why you want me to do stuff, with you," she said slowly, carefully choosing her words. "You were right. It's fun. I-" she balked, "I liked it. I let go, and I liked it. But I'm still getting used to the idea, you know? Like, it's like, I dunno, like new clothes, or something, I feel good wearing them, but I'm not used to them yet." She looked in my eyes, searching. "Kind of like that. I, I need some time, to, you know, wrap my head around it." She smiled wistfully. "I'm not ready, yet. I'll tell you when I'm ready."

"I want to forgive you, I think," I responded gently, but firmly. I squeezed her hands and felt hers return the gesture. "But you have to tell me what I'm forgiving. One thing," I offered. "Tell me one. Tell me about the night after the club, when I saw you."

A look of dismay crossed her face. It must have been something, I thought, to make her so worried. Or maybe just so far from her definition of 'normal' that it was uncomfortable.

"I won't judge you," I conceded.

"I will," she confessed in return.

"Don't" I said, and wondered if I meant it, or was just curious. "If you did something I wanted, then don't, it's not fair to you." I tried to smile, wondering what she might have done. "If I pushed you, then I'm partially responsible," I consoled.

"I don't know," she hesitated.

I pulled my hands away slowly, my imagination getting ahead of my, spurring my eagerness and filling me with trepidation. I pushed it back under control and settled myself into the corner of the couch, taking a relaxed pose but feeling mounting tension in my chest. "I already know you were out, dancing" I told her reassuringly. "I saw who you were with." I waited until she peeked up at me from under lowered brows. "I saw how you danced with them," I said, holding her gaze, keeping my voice even, luring her into safety and wondering, in the back of my mind, which one of us was really in danger. "It was exciting. You were, uh-m, pressing yourself. Against them. Yes?" She nodded. "Was that fun? It looked like you were enjoying it," I led her.

"I'm a little scared," she replied timidly.

"Go ahead, it's okay," I reassured, "did you like it? You didn't look scared at the time. Tell me," I urged softly, "tell me what it was like."

She turned her head slightly to the side, breaking my gaze, and her face got that faraway look again. "It was exciting," she began. "I let go, had fun. I was impulsive and motivated." Her tongue crept out and licked across her upper lip. "They were fun. Exciting. They liked me."

"You were wild," I said. "Dirty dancing. I've never seen you like that." I remembered the scene in my mind, pictured it. It was hot, and I told her so. "It was exciting to watch. A lot of people were watching." I saw a flush creep into her cheeks as she bit her lower lip. "You were practically humping."

"Yeah," she said, "I remember. I rubbed against them." She glanced at him. "Both of them."

"It was hot? Exciting?"

"Yes," then she added, "very."

"Could you feel him?" I saw her cheeks darken. She knew what I meant; her face told me so. "I guess you did," I answered for her. "Tell me. Did you feel his hard cock pressing into you?" I watched her hand clench into a fist on her thigh as her eyes closed. I was imagining; she was remembering. "Tell me," I repeated softly, still not sure I wanted the answer.

"Yes," she acknowledged, not meeting my eyes. She looked into the corner of the room, her eyes turning - what? Dreamy? "Yes, I could feel him. His dick was hard. For me. Pressing into me." Her voice was soft, seductive and ashamed.

"See? That wasn't so hard, was it?"

"No," she said, and her lips curled at the corner, "but he was," she quipped.

"I'll bet," I confirmed. I felt myself growing at the memory, and was confused by my reaction. Shouldn't I be angry? "Then what?"

"I kissed him," she said, and turned to face me, to look at me, to check my reaction. A subtle fire had replaced the fear in her eyes. "I kissed him, and he kissed me. I kissed another man, in front of everybody," she told me, and I heard the indecision slip from her words. "Tongues. We made out, right there on the dance floor." Her lip quivered. "It was so exciting, letting myself go, be taken by him like that. And she watched us."

"So did I,"

"She's his girlfriend,"

"I'm your husband."

"I didn't know you were there. I knew she was right next to me while I kissed him. She, uh, encouraged us...it was so hot." She took a deep breath and I saw her body relax. "So I kissed him harder; I didn't stop."

"If you knew I was there, watching," I asked suddenly, backtracking, "would you have stopped?"

Her eyes narrowed in thought. "I don't think so," she answered pensively. "I was trying to get back at you, remember." Her shoulders lifted a little. "I think it would have made it even better!"

"Naughty," I teased. "Then what?"

"You know," she said, her tone more relaxed, opening up a little. "You were there; you saw."

"You want me to forgive you; you have to say what you did," I reminded her as I recalled her actions. I felt the swelling increase at my crotch. I'd known it was hot all along but I was allowing myself to admit it, now.

"I kissed her," she whispered.

"Yes, you did."

"Uh huh," she confirmed. "I kissed a girl, right on the dance floor, with everyone watching," she related, her voice breathy. "I heard cheers and hoots and her boyfriend was telling me to go for it." She bit her lip again. "I liked it. I felt her pressing her boobs into mine, her hands on me, her lips." Her eyelids fluttered. "Her tongue was in my mouth; it was so nice, so hot. I felt so, I don't know, dirty and wild."

"It looked wild," I said. I was fully hard now, and I think I squirmed a little, trying to adjust myself in my pants without making it obvious. She had kissed another guy, gone wild, kissed a girl! "I thought maybe it wasn't you when I saw it. I saw her grab your ass."

"And I grabbed hers," she answered, leaning forward, eyes widened slightly. One of her hands rested on my leg, just above the knee. "It was soft, but firm, not a guy's hard ass. And then I-" she stopped, pulled back a little. Her tongue slipped out again. "I grabbed under her skirt. My hand was on her bare ass, under her skirt. I couldn't stop myself." She leaned forward again, adding pressure to the hand on my leg. "I just had this urge, and I let it take me, and I reached under her skirt, and then my hand was on bare skin, on her ass, so soft and hot." She was breathing through her mouth, her voice soft and soothing. "She squealed into my mouth."

"No panties, then?"

"A thong. I found out later." Her eyes turned dreamy again, for a second, and my hips pulsed involuntarily, legs tightening as I watched her remember the experience. She felt the tension in my leg, glanced at my bulging crotch and gave me a look, letting me know that she knew. "You like this story so far, I guess," she cooed, sliding her hand up my thigh. It stopped at the crease before my groin. She squeezed and her eyes narrowed. She stared at me silently for a second. "Wait till you hear the rest," she said with confidence. She shuffled off the bed onto her knees and her other hand joined the first on my other thigh. "God, what I did later."

"Tell me," I urged. I felt my teeth grinding and tried to relax my jaw and failed. My body was pulsing with excitement and my brain was imaging multiple endings to her story. I wondered if her telling would be better or worse, and my fear and anger at what I imagined was shamed by the fact that I wanted her to be wild, to let go. My wife with a young couple? My brain tumbled with building passion and need. Her hands slid up to my belt and fumbled, opening my pants.

"Maybe we should let him out while I tell you the rest," she suggested, undoing my belt and struggling my pants open. I looked down at her, watching her work intently, saw her eyes open as I sprang out of my confines; heard her inhale sharply as her hand wrapped around my shaft. She squeezed me just under the head and I groaned.

"Tell me the rest," I managed, "you left. I saw you go. Saw you," I grunted as she reached in to cup my balls. "Saw you get in the cab, in your miniskirt." I grunted again as she stroked my hard length. "I saw him grab your ass. I saw you; you let him."

"I wanted him to," she said to my cock. "I liked it, liked having another man touch me. It was so hot." Her eyes darted to my face, her hand still gripping my cock. "He did it right in front of the club. Put his hand up my dress, felt my ass."

"And you let him."

"I let him, yes." Her voice had lost most of the hesitance now, encouraged by my reaction. I pushed my pants down off my hips. She knelt beside me on the bed, assisting with one hand, fondling me with the other. Legs freed, I spread my legs. She returned her other hand to cup my ball sack. "I asked him if he liked my ass. I said, 'you like that ass, baby?'"

"Were you wearing panties?"

"Yes." She lifted her eyebrows and bit her lower lip. "But not for long. And I never found them." She hunched her shoulders and her lip curled up at the side. "I think they never came out of the taxi, maybe."

"God," I grunted, "you wild thing." What had she done? I couldn't wait to find out, even as the potential scared me. I was beginning to breath more heavily, mouth open. "What happened in the cab?"

Her eyes opened wide and she began to stroke me, slowly. "I climbed in and she kissed me again, while I was still kneeling on the seat. He got in behind me and was feeling my ass as I made out with his girlfriend." Her voice had deepened, become throaty and sultry. The sound invaded me, heightening my urge. "She fondled me. My breasts. She felt up my tits, and he felt up my ass. They wanted me." She stopped stroking and rubbed her thumb across the tip of my cock, smearing the fat drop of pre-cum that had bubbled up and sending sensations through me. "M-mm, I wanted them, too," she added. Her moistened fingers began stroking again. "I was so hot. You like that? Knowing I was hot and horny?"

"Oh, yeah," I answered softly.

"He put his hand into my panties, slipped it under, felt my bare ass. It felt so good, being so naughty. She stopped kissing me. She-" she stalled; her breath caught. "She pulled her shirt down, baby; she pulled her tits out." She leaned over me, her hand paused, and licked the head of my cock. I swooned, watching her tongue emerge, felt the electricity as it made contact, saw the string of pre-cum stretch between my cock and her mouth as she craned her neck to look up at me. "I sucked her nipples," she whispered. "I sucked another girl's nipples, right in the taxi. And she liked it. I did it good, I think. It felt good. I liked her tits. And then," she said, leaning forward, putting her face near mine, "his fingers touched my pussy."

I felt the heat of her breath on my face, smelled her, her words hot as fire. My wife, her pussy with another man's fingers touching her, sucking nipples, damn!

"His fingers spread my lips, inside my panties. Your wife was getting her pussy felt up by a guy. But he only touched me for a few seconds. I wanted him, wanted his fingers in me, but he pulled away. My pussy was on fire. I was still sucking her titties, though. And I heard him moving, and then they pushed me, twisted me around." She leaned down to kiss me, lightly, on the lips. Her words came out in a hiss. "He took it out. When I turned around he had it out of his pants, his hard cock, and he put his hand on my head." She kissed me again and I felt my body tense, waiting for the next sentence. Her mouth. I watched her lips form the words "And then your angry horny wife sucked his cock."

"Oh, you slut," I hissed at her.

"I never was before," she said, "but I wanted to be; then. I wanted to show you. To show ME." She slid down my body, still holding my stiff cock in her hand, until her chin was on my stomach and the head of my dick was pressed against her neck. She looked up and batted her eyes. "You wanna hear more?"

"I think I need to, to make sure you need forgiving," I teased.

"Well, like I said, I was sucking his hard cock in the taxi. I was really going at it, too, and-"

"How do you mean?"

"How do I mean what?"

"I mean, how were you 'really going at it'?"

She batted her eyes. "Oh," she smiled. "Like this." And she slipped further down, lifted my cock from my body, and lowered her mouth on it, taking most of my length in the first stroke, and pulling up slowly, sucking and licking as she went. When she reached the top, she hungrily bobbed her head quickly up and down; long, wet full strokes of her mouth, her hands following, slick with spit. She looked up at me, her mouth filled with cock. Her eyes smiled, and she pulled off.

"Like that," she said, tickling the tip with her tongue.

"Okay," I exhaled, "just wanted to be clear."

"So like I said, I was sucking his cock, kneeling on the back seat of the taxi. And then his girlfriend fingered me." She stroked me lazily as she spoke. "Fingered my pussy, baby." A small lick at the tip. "My pussy was so wet, I was so excited, so hot, doing something so daring and dirty."

"Did you like it? Having another girl feel you up?"

"Oh, she wasn't copping a feel," she whispered hotly. "Her fingers slid right into my wet cunt,"

"Dirty girl."

"Her?"

"No. You."

"To show you, to get back at you,"

"Whatever."

"It was so strange, having another woman finger my pussy while I sucked her man's cock, and to be doing it in a taxi, damn, I was such a slut." She took another long, full suck of my cock. "But I had to stop. We got to their hotel, and we had to put ourselves together. I think that's where I left my panties. We walked through the lobby, hugging and kissing and laughing and feeling each other up." She crawled back up my body until she was at my face. "People saw me, stared at me, kissing both of them. Like this," she added, and her mouth was on mine, wet from sucking my cock. She pressed herself against me, grinding her pussy onto my hard shaft, groaning and grunting as she humped against me. She pulled back, licked my lips. "They felt me up as we waited for the elevator. People saw my ass, saw them fondling me." She blushed. "She kissed me in front of them and rubbed my pussy while they watched." Her hands slipped up under my shirt, rubbing my chest, settling on my nipples. I helped her pull my shirt off as she continued. "They stared and whispered, and I loved it. I was being bad, and liking the bad," she said, pinching my nipples. My back arched a little.

"We got into the elevator, but no one got in with us," she smirked. "As the doors were closing he stood behind me and pulled up my shirt, and grabbed my tits, right as they watched and the door closed!" She held herself up on her arms, palms on my chest, pussy pressed into my cock through her pants. "She sucked my nipples in the elevator!" And she descended onto my nipple and nipped at it with her lips. I stroked her hair as she sucked and then bit, lightly, making me grunt. She pulled off. "Like that. It made me so hot. Did you like it?"

I nodded. "Want to hear what happened when we got to their room?" I nodded again. She took off her shirt, sitting up on me, grinding herself against me. "You sure?" she asked. She unhooked her bra and let her tits hang in my face. I noticed marks on them I had never seen before. Hickies? She saw my eyes and looked down, and blushed. "Oh. That was a different night." My eyes went to hers, and she reddened and her eyes closed for a second. When they opened, she added, "I told you you'll have to forgive me."

"How did you get them?"

"No," she stated simply. "I can't, not now. I can tell you this one, because you knew the beginning, and," she squirmed on my cock, "you're enjoying it. The rest, well. Another time. When I'm ready." I pressed my hips up into her, and her eyes registered my agreement. "Maybe I should take these off, too?"

"Not yet," I managed.

She looked at me through narrowed eyes. Her tits wobbled a little as she adjusted her position, her nipples swelling and hardening.

"You went to their room," I prompted.

"Yeah," she said dreamily. "As soon as we got in we were all naked and on the bed, like a whirlwind. I was so hot, I just let them take my clothes off. They were kissing me, and feeling me up, and sucking my tits and fingering me. Both of them, together. Fuck, it was hot and naughty and so wrong, and I wanted them. Both."

She lowered her chest to my face, scooting her hips forward a little, and her nipples brushed against my lips. I thought of the hickies, then put them out of my mind as I opened and took a hard rubbery nub into my mouth and sucked. "I was on my back, he was fingering my pussy, and she was sucking my tits, just like that," she said as I sucked. I looked up and her eyes were closed. "I put my hand on his cock, and I stroked him. He was hard. Hard for me, for my pussy." I switched to the other nipple. "She grabbed my other hand and moved it to her." She pulled her nipple from my mouth and leaned over my face. "To her pussy. Her shaved pussy." She kissed me, grinding on my cock. She was hot, telling me, remembering what she'd done, and I was just as hot hearing. I groaned into her mouth. She pulled from me, lay on my chest, her tits pressed against me and her lips went to my neck. I felt her breath in my ear. "I fingered her cunt. I finger fucked a girl," she whispered. I felt her tongue at my ear. "It was so hot, a cock in one hand, and my fingers inside a wet pussy, two strangers, hot for me."