Madeleine Strays: A Wife-Watching Romance

by Max Sebastian

Hugo was a little surprised by the words coming out of Madeleine’s mouth—but it was hot to hear.

  “Oh God… oh that feels amazing,” she breathed. “You know I was thinking about this while I was fucking him?”

  “You were?”

  “Wondering how hard you were, watching. Remembering how you got from just watching me on my own.”

  “You’re so hot, honey. Whatever you do.”

  “Oh—you’re making me hot. All hot and sweaty.”

  He kissed her, then urged her up, over, onto her hands and knees. Lining up behind her for re-entry, loving those magnificent curves of hers, his hands gliding all over her rear, then up to hold her waist as he eased his way back inside her.

  “Oh God…” she cried. “You’re so big. Some girls never get to have this—and I get two of them.”

  “That’s right, honey.”

  Pounding into her, her words trying to spur him on, even perhaps to get him to punish her with his penetration.

  “So you like watching me cheat on you?”

  “Sure.”

  “The way he makes me come with that huge cock of his?”

  “It’s what I wanted all along.”

  “Fuck me, fuck me right now. Make me scream.”

  He’d never come so hard as he did then, ramming her, filling her tight pussy, which quivered around him as they both reached the peak and he released himself inside her, as only he had been able to do that evening.

  And Madeleine was screaming as he pushed her into the mattress, her body collapsing under him as he sewed his seed deep within her womb, and she was shaking with the sensations flaming through her body.

  It almost felt like the first time again, the first time either of them had actually had sex.

  Strange that it took the influence of another man bedding her to provoke such overwhelming feelings and forge so fierce and strong a bond between them.

  Twenty

  Come the morning, Hugo had to somehow prize himself out of bed to get to work on time.

  He spent all day in a daze, memories of his pretty blonde wife interfering with his progress every step of the way. As the full reality of what had happened finally started to sink in, He found himself actually hoping that Madeleine’s next date with Connor might be sooner, rather than later.

  By the evening, one of Hugo’s top clients had got itself in a tangle that required sudden attention—and meant he would have to stay late into the night to handle the press.

  He bitterly regretted not being able to go home and check back in with Madeleine after such an eventful moment in their relationship.

  Madeleine seemed bright enough when he called her, making him instantly suspicious that she’d take advantage of a free evening for another rendezvous with Connor, this time away from his view.

  “Oh no, I was going to go for a few drinks with Lucy, actually,” she said.

  Hugo had laughed at that, mainly because he knew Lucy would have been hounding Madeleine for details of the previous night, and probably coerced her into a night out to divulge all.

  “If you were going to see Connor, would you tell me?” he asked her.

  “I’m not sure. I might.”

  “You might tell me, or you might be going out with Connor tonight?”

  “I might tell you,” she said.

  “What happened to your fantasy of having a secret affair?”

  Madeleine laughed. “It’s not secret now, is it?”

  “Are you sad it’s not secret?”

  “No. No, I think I had enough of a connection with him already that it wasn’t weird when it finally happened.”

  “All those secret lunches. And that date at the Met.”

  “Lucy told me you saw us,” she said in a whisper now. “I guess I was kind of hoping you would.”

  “It was wonderful, honey,” he said. “So when’s the next date?”

  “I’m not sure. He’s out of town for a week or two. I guess I’ll have to distract myself with Lucy if you can’t be home.”

  “Yes,” he said. “I guess you guys can practice kissing, or something like that.”

  He heard Madeleine giggle. “She told you about that?”

  Hugo couldn’t help but smile. “It’s not the great shocking thing you might think it is, honey,” he said. “Not these days.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  “Kind of hot, actually.”

  “Oh,” Madeleine said, and Hugo wondered if he’d stolen a great secret from her, something that had given her a nice little hint of wickedness inside. Well, she had plenty of opportunities for other wickedness now. She said, “What time will you be home tonight?”

  “Not sure. Maybe not even until the morning.” Hugo sighed.

  “In that case, I might just sleep over at Lucy’s tonight,” she said. “It’s so boring getting the subway all the way back when it’s dark.”

  “Okay, honey, you do that.”

  “Maybe we’ll practice a little kissing.”

  *

  Hugo wasn’t wrong when he said his workday might run through to the morning. In fact, it ran through until Sunday morning—his client had become embroiled in something of a scandal, which no amount of public relations gloss was going to provide an escape from damage to the reputation.

  Friday night was not so bad—he liked to imagine Madeleine was having enormous fun with her best friend, chattering about the extraordinary events of her first time sleeping with Connor.

  Saturday night, though, he didn’t know what she was up to, and at no point during the day did he have a chance to ask her.

  Was she with Connor? She could even have stayed the night with him.

  When he eventually returned home, on the Sunday afternoon, Madeleine was all over him as though he’d been away for a month, as though she needed to reclaim him. God, she looked good, even dressed down in sweatpants and one of her college t-shirts, those nipples straining against the thin cotton. But he was exhausted.

  He’d said, “Honey, I’m really sorry—I think I need to sleep before I do anything.”

  She’d nodded, bitten her lip in a manner that sent a tickle of arousal through even his shattered frame.

  “You had a good time with Lucy?”

  “Of course.”

  “And last night?”

  “Last night was fun.”

  He chuckled at that obvious attempt to engage him in something more than going to bed, but he continued through to the bedroom, hauling off his shoes and then his clothes. A splash of cold water on the face felt fantastic—so much so that he slipped on the shower for a full rinse. Well, it felt better to collapse in bed clean than it did with the lingering traces of 72 hours in the office.

  It was when he got out of the shower and started brushing his teeth that he opened the little mirrored medical cabinet above the sink to find the floss, and there on the shelf was that big box of condoms—with only two of them left.

  Jesus.

  His heart jumped a few times, his breathing became suddenly rapid. Ten condoms were missing from the box. Had she really had full so many times without Hugo’s knowledge?

  It shocked him—even now, even after their fidelity barrier had been broken with Hugo watching, it was deeply disturbing to him to see that her fun with Connor had apparently continued behind closed doors.

  Yet judging from the electricity rippling through his body and the rampaging erection he was now presented with, the evidence that Madeleine had been a naughty girl while he’d been out was equally exciting to him.

  Slowly, he stepped out of the bathroom, wrapping his waist and his swollen manhood in a little white towel. He wasn’t sleepy now. Not in the slightest. Call it a second wind, call it whatever, he felt fully energized again. It was like that myth of the mother lifting a car off her infant because of the power of the adrenaline flowing through her body at the sheer panic and terror.

  Where had she done it?

  Like a hawk, his eyes fixed on the little scrap of scarl
et that had fallen to the floor by the bedside table, and been overlooked in the cleanup.

  The open wrapper from a condom.

  Madeleine walked into the bedroom. Hugo tried not to react to her, despite the fact that while he’d been in the shower, she’d stripped off her sweatpants and t-shirt, and she was now standing in an elaborate luxurious white lace lingerie set, complete with white lace-topped stockings and garter belt, with an almost bridal bra and panties that looked wonderfully extravagant.

  And she was wearing this especially for him.

  Hugo tried not to be distracted. He asked her, “Connor spent the night with you?”

  She nodded meekly, hands behind her back like a naughty schoolgirl.

  “And you didn’t tell me. We’ve not talked about you spending the night with him yet.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Hugo stepped up to her, said rhetorically, “So this is going to be how it is, is it? You’ll be taking advantage of any moment we’re not together to run to some other guy. What am I going to do with you, Madeleine?”

  He saw the glint in her eye, that little hint of mischief, responding to the stern tone of his voice, the suggestion that despite his exhaustion, he was now up for some game play.

  Only, it wasn’t a game that Madeleine had actually spent the night with her crush, right here in this room. Hugo could tell that.

  “I’m yours, only yours,” she insisted, her voice taking on a slight soupçon of Damsel in Distress. “I’m yours to do whatever you want with.”

  He nodded, trying not to react though his cock was so swollen beneath that little towel to see her like this.

  “Go to the window,” he said. “Stand there and open the blinds.”

  “Open them?” she was fearful.

  “I don’t know if your Connor is over there in his apartment, if he can see you. I don’t care. If he is, he can see me taking what I want from you.”

  She gasped. But after a beat, she complied. Without even turning off the lights of the bedroom, she went to stand in front of the windows, and drew up the blinds completely, so the glass was totally revealed, the whole world outside free to see almost everything going on in that room—and in particular, the sexy blonde standing right there in front, wearing Playboy-centerfold underwear.

  Hugo waited a few moments, enjoying the picture of his wife exposed, the idea that anyone could see her like this—that Connor could see her like this.

  Then he turned the lights down a little into a softer, more romantic glow that still cast enough brightness to keep Madeleine on display. He moved behind her and encircled her in his arms, nudging his chin over her shoulder, pressing his face into her hair to breathe in her fragrance.

  He ran his hands all over her body, reveling in the texture of the lace over her skin, the erotic nature of her stockings and suspenders.

  As his hand slipped between her legs from behind, cupping her pussy, finding the lacework wet from her arousal already, he asked her, “Did you enjoy spending the night with him?”

  She nodded. He pressed his fingers against her wetness, his fingertips finding the dip into her soaking groove even through her lavish underwear.

  “It wasn’t supposed to happen,” she said quietly, still apologetic.

  “But it did.”

  “I was on my own, so he came over to keep me company. It was my turn to cook for him, I guess.”

  “What did you make him?”

  “Dominos.”

  “Good girl.” He tried not to smile.

  “We weren’t really hungry. We couldn’t keep off each other.”

  “You fucked him? On the bed?”

  “And the couch, and the window seat, and the floor. And in the shower. And on the kitchen counter…”

  “How productive.”

  “And then it was too late to throw him out, and I just wanted company while you were gone.”

  “Just the company?”

  “I wanted his body, too.”

  Hugo flicked the catch on her bra, freeing up those beautifully rounded breasts, her proud nipples. Making her catch her breath at the startling exposure in front of these windows.

  “Get on the window seat,” he said. “On all fours, like the animal you are.”

  She did so, pushing out her behind for him. He said, “Do you love him? Seems like you’d want to spend the night with him if you loved him.”

  She said quickly, “No. He’s just fun to be around. And he has a nice cock.”

  “And you saw a lot of that last night.”

  Keeping the towel around his waist, Hugo lay on the window seat behind her, running his hands over her soft, smooth flesh, in awe at the curve of her behind, the elegant wickedness of her lingerie, particularly the suspenders which framed her pussy for his gaze.

  “Oh it felt so good inside me,” she said, then flinched as she felt him nuzzle into her pussy from behind, his nose pressing against the saturated material, his tongue slipping out to touch up against her hot sex, tracing out her dripping slit.

  “Eventually we fell asleep,” she said. “I knew I should have called you or sent you a message, but it felt so good drifting off in his arms.”

  She moaned as he licked her through the lacework, tasting her savory juices, then slipping aside her panties to reveal the pink rosy petals of her hairless pussy, which the previous night had been so well used by another man.

  “And you just slept after that?” he asked her.

  “He woke me in the middle of the night by kissing me all over, by going down on me.” Madeleine gasped as he feasted on her slippery folds from behind, loving her flavor, adoring how his tongue and his lips and the heat of his mouth made her sigh and pant and sway.

  “You liked it better than when I do it?”

  “Not better. Just different,” she answered, her voice strained. “Then he was on top of me, inside me, taking me all the way.”

  As though taking her prompt, Hugo quietly slipped off his clothes, and then pushed her down under him, so he could straddle her thighs, stroking her pussy from behind with the tip of his rigid cock.

  She groaned as she felt his manhood grazing over her sex, and then let out a glorious cry as he fell on her, his arms embracing her, squeezing her breasts as his hips pushed forward to violate her with his hardness.

  Legs together, she was seriously tight, but so very wet that he glided inside her pussy, thrusting into her as though spanking her with his penetration.

  “Oh God…” she exclaimed over and over. “Oh fuck…”

  It felt so strange to be doing this in the window, so very public. Yet he was so wound up from the surprise of finding out his wife had spent the night with another man that he was on fire, nothing was going to stop him.

  Madeleine had cheated on him, in a way. Not maliciously, though. Not because she wanted to hurt him. She was fulfilling her needs, giving in to desire, making the most of her new freedom. She was insatiable, and that was what Hugo had always wanted.

  As he slid inside her, he thought to himself that perhaps one day she’d have a real affair with some stranger, someone Hugo did not know, and had not approved prior to the relationship beginning. There was something curiously exciting in that prospect, too, though taking the assumption that she’d eventually share the details with him, and that he would remain most important to her.

  He thought she came, but he was not nearly done despite his fatigue. Her outfit had given him a second wind—she did not wear this stuff very often. There had been a time, very recently, she’d never conceive of wearing something like this, though it seemed the easy way to get any man to worship her.

  He turned her over, pulled off her panties, breathed in her scent from them, then shared her affectionate smile. He couldn’t help but fall on her again, taste her while her legs were clad in those sexy stockings. That smooth completely bare mound, her hairless pussy was so divine, he couldn’t avoid taking his fill.

  She raised her hips as he ate her, her hands sli
pping over his scalp, her fingers pulling her to him as she rode his face to another climax.

  When he finally called time on his own performance, he was on his back on the window seat, and Madeline was riding his shaft, completely on display to the world if it was watching, loving the risk, the danger of being seen.

  Clamping herself to him as he released his hot oil inside her, reclaiming her.

  “I guess you’re forgiven,” he said as they settled down in bed, allowing sleep to come and claim them both.

  Twenty One

  Connor was due to be away for six weeks to tend to his latest business ventures on the West Coast. Madeleine didn’t talk a huge amount about what he was up to, but it was clear to Hugo that his absence gently frustrated her, just when she’d embarked on such a physical relationship with him.

  Her signals unnerved her husband a little, though he told himself it was simply her body’s physical craving for the powerful stimulus of her new lover, not that she was developing feelings for him.

  He remembered how he’d been with new girlfriends in the years before Madeleine—it wasn’t love, it was lust.

  Hugo did benefit from some of her desperation, of course, diverting her lust in his direction, even role-playing the part of Connor when they made love. Lucy helped distract her friend, too, with some girls nights out.

  Hugo had also redrafted the concept of Date Night, which had fallen by the wayside ever since Connor’s dating was confirmed. One evening they were due to go out for a nice dinner-and-a-movie night, but Hugo returned home after work to find a rather frantic Madeleine.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Uh… look, would you mind if I went out tonight… without you?”

  Hugo sighed, and on the inside he was laughing. It was so obvious that she wanted to go out with Connor. Was he back in town early? He didn’t quite know how to respond to her question and not demand she tell him what she wanted to do with Connor.

  She was too hyper, apparently, to wait for his answer, taking his pause as being either outright rejection of her request, or annoyance at her snub.

  She said, “Okay, I’ll tell you. He’s back in town for the night, so if I want to see him, this is the only time I can.”