Pictures at Ten

by Sean Geist

  “Yes. Yes, you poor thing.”

  I threw her down on the bed. She looked radiant, lying there naked, I'm sure of that, but I was in no state to admire her beauty. I moved to mount my wife, but before I could, she put her hand on my chest to stop my progress.

  “You may be ready, my horny little beast, but I'm not.”

  I knew what she meant, so I collected what little patience I had, and went down on her, lapping her dew like it was the fountain of youth and I was a withered old man lost in the desert.

  “Oh. That's good. But slow down.”

  I didn't slow down and Daphne resigned herself to the fact this wasn't going to be the best fuck she'd ever had. I pledged myself to make it up to her.

  After she was well-lubricated with my saliva and her own juices, I mounted her. It felt warm and wonderful and I only lasted about thirty seconds before I popped and sent what felt like a gallon of semen into my wife's hopefully fertile womb. What I lacked in craft, I made up for in volume and I think that sent my wife off to a small climax of her own.

  I collapsed onto my wife, spent.

  “Sorry.”

  “You should be.”

  “I'll make it up to you. Later.”

  “Damn straight. I should make you go down on me.”

  The thought of eating her out again, after filling her with my seed, was oddly enticing. Daphne had sucked my cock several times in the past, after I'd been inside her. She didn't complain.

  “But I won't. We don't know which of those lucky boys will be the one to knock me up.”

  As it turned out, none were lucky and Daphne got her period again. We kept fucking freely several times a week, never knowing which time we'd hit the jackpot. I kept my hands to myself – my seed was for my wife's womb only. We weren't quiet ready to see a doctor, but we didn't want to waste any ammo, either. That also meant no blow-jobs, but I put that thought away because it was just too damn depressing.

  We had a brief glimpse of hope in late August when Daphne's period failed to arrive on schedule, but that hope was dashed seven days later. After that, we just stopped worrying about getting pregnant and went on with our lives. It would happen, when it happened.

  Chapter 6

  “You almost ready?” Daphne was out in the kitchen area, jingling the car keys.

  “Gimme a break. Party doesn't start for another hour.” I was trying in vain to adjust my tie; I'd spent the last ten minutes fidgeting with it, but I couldn't seem to get it right. You could argue I was wasting time in an attempt to avoid the party altogether and you'd be right.

  My employer loved throwing money around, keeping his staff happy and putting out a top notch news product, even if few people actually watched it. Good thing was, MPN had the local contract for the Dallas hockey and basketball franchises which meant the station was minting money.

  One of the highlights each year, or so I've been told, was the company holiday party. Daphne and I were very social people and we loved going out, so I didn't have an excuse to skip the event. My life had been filled with dread since I got the invite. My first instinct was to hide it, rip it up and forget I'd received it. I don't know what I would have done if I'd been the first one to the mail box the day it arrived but it's a moot point because Daphne saw it first. She was so excited about going she ran out to buy a new dress for the occasion.

  As hard has I worked over the past several months to put it off, my wife was finally going to meet Steve Speare. She brought his name up every time we talked about the holiday party and the three times we had sex between getting the invitation and the night of the party she made sure to tease me about him. The sex was great, but I really worried about what would happen when they got together face to face. The fantasy of my wife being naughty thrilled me, but I was still unsure about real life.

  “Time to man up, buddy,” I said to the reflection looking back at me from the mirror. “Tie's fine. No more stalling.”

  I guessed I'd find out how I really felt when it happened. I ran a comb through my hair, grabbed my jacket and went out to join my wife.

  “About time. And I thought women were suppose to take too much time getting ready to go out.”

  It was true, she'd spent far less time than I did getting ready, but she looked a thousand times better.

  Daphne's red hair was done-up, held in place by some unknown magic, to reveal her slender neck. Her makeup was subtle, foundation, a little eye shadow – a glittery brown that made the green in her hazel eyes pop – and a lip gloss that accentuated the natural hue of her lips. She had spent a fair amount of time to make it appear she'd down nothing at all. Daphne had a natural beauty, no doubt, but to look this stunning took work.

  She wore a snug green dress that reached down just above her knees, the fabric hugging every curve. Her neckline plunged to a capital V, displaying just enough cleavage to tantalize without being vulgar. To complete the ensemble she wore a bright red sash around her waist with matching heels and a green and red wrap to keep out the mid-December Texas chill.

  She looked like a sexy Christmas present I couldn't wait to open later that night. I'd seen an empty store bag from Daphne's favorite lingerie store on the floor on her side of the bed and I figured she bought something special to wear underneath her dress, another surprise I eagerly awaited.

  The party was held in the grand ballroom of the Hilton Anatole just north of downtown Dallas. It a great venue, offering rooms for people who didn't want to worry about how much they drank, and was right across the street from the MPN studios.

  We arrived around six o'clock and checked into our room. Daphne freshened up her makeup. I tried my best to steal a kiss, but she kept her distance, telling me to save my ardor for later. The party was just getting underway when we finally made our way back downstairs.

  The Metro-Plex Network employed a little over seventy people, most of whom I'd met, and since it was Saturday and the next news show wasn't until Sunday evening, just about everyone was there.

  “Where's Steve?” Of course my wife would ask about the one person not at the party.

  “He said he's running a little late.” We were talking with Rebecca Sanders, the executive news producer and my boss. “Trouble finding a sitter.”

  “He has kids?” I didn't know that.

  “No. For his dogs.” Did I hear a sigh of relief from Daphne? Maybe.

  “Is he still dating—”

  “Engaged.” I swear I head my wife gasp, but Rebecca didn't seem to notice. I looked around and saw Elizabeth, Steve's girlfriend – no, his fiancée.

  “We're going to mingle a bit,” I really wanted to get over to the open bar. I wasn't looking forward to Steve's arrival and I wanted to get a little liquid courage.

  “Nice to finally meet you Rebecca.” My wife leaned in to give my boss a hug.

  “Pleasure. We really love having your husband with us.”

  The compliment felt nice. I loved working at MPN, even if my wife was lusting after one of my co-workers.

  I lead my wife to a table near the front of the room. Space had been set aside for a dance floor and there was a DJ spinning a nice mix of holiday songs and dance tunes.

  “You need a drink?” I looked down at my wife, getting a nice peek down her dress. The view between her breast set my cock tingling.

  “White wine, champagne if they have—you looking down my dress, mister?” I was busted. I just smiled at my wife, who winked in return.

  “One champagne coming up.” I headed off to get our drinks.

  I bumped into Elizabeth at the bar. She looked nice, her red-hair done up similar to Daphne's, she wore a black skirt with a bright green blouse. We chatted for a bit while we stood in line. It was an open bar and plenty of people were taking advantage. I congratulated her on the engagement. She said Steve had popped the question a couple of weeks ago and was surprised I even knew about it.

  “Rebecca just told us, my wife and I.”

  “Your wife's here?”


  I pointed Daphne out. My wife was looking our way and she waved. Elizabeth and I waved back.

  “She's very beautiful.”

  “I know.”

  “Well I can't wait any longer.” Elizabeth got out of line and headed toward the back of the room at a pace that could mean only one thing, she had to use the restroom.

  I watched her go, my eyes lingering on her smooth round ass. I scolded myself for lusting after another man's woman. I turned my attention toward my wife. She was sitting down, watching a few people dancing. I was enjoying watching her, swaying her body to the music, lost in the rhythm, unaware of the erotic thoughts running through my mind.

  I was shocked when I saw another man put his arms on her shoulders and bend down to kiss her neck.

  “What'll ya have?”

  “What?”

  “To drink.”

  I looked at the bartender and back toward my wife. It was Steve nuzzling my wife's sensitive neck. I expected her to immediately turn around and smack him, but she didn't. Instead she tilted her head, giving him better access to her shoulders and ear lobes.

  “Sir, You're holding up the line.”

  I was finding it hard to think. Steve had never even met my wife and he was getting quite intimate with her and she was letting him. “What the fuck.”

  “If you don't want a drink, could you please step aside.”

  “Two champagnes.” It was the first thing that popped into my head, even though I really wanted a double scotch.

  I was just glad no one else seemed to notice that Steve was making out with my wife, and she was enjoying it. She must have thought it was me kissing her neck, although I doubt he wore the same cologne as I did. I guess in the passion of the moment, small clues are lost.

  “Here you go.” I dropped a couple bucks in the tip glass and took our drinks.

  I was halfway to our table when my wife eventually turned around and saw who was nibbling her flesh. She jumped back in surprise, but still didn't move to slap him. I quickened my pace, hoping to get there before my wife made a scene. My penis was starting to grow uncomfortably in my pants and I wasn't able to adjust myself with my hands full of drinks.

  “I am so, so, sorry.” Steve took a few steps back from Daphne, who, for her part, seemed to be taking the assault rather well.

  “You. You. You're Steve Speare.”

  “Please forgive me.” Steve took my wife's stuttering to mean she was upset. I could tell by the look on her face she wasn't.

  “You always accost women like that?” I said.

  “Richard?”

  “I see you've met my wife.”

  “I'm so embarrassed. I thought she was Elizabeth.”

  “You thought I was your fiancée?” My wife's face turned red, her freckles stood out, making her look five years younger.

  “It was an honest mistake, both Liz and my wife have red hair, although Daph's is a bit darker.” I don't know why I was defending him. I guess I just liked him too much and it really could have been an honest mistake.

  “And Liz told me she was wearing her green blouse. I'm just so sorry.”

  “Not a problem.” My wife had quickly gotten over her shock. Maybe a little too quickly. “Now I've got a great story to tell the girls at work.”

  “I so wish you wouldn't.”

  I agreed with Steve as I handed my wife her champagne. She took a sip.

  “I make no promises.” We all shared a laugh and Daphne invited Steve and Elizabeth to sit with us.

  For the next few hours we really got to know each other better. Steve and I got to share our stories about how we got lured into the news biz. Daphne knew my story and was amused by how similar it was to Steve's. Elizabeth went on about how nervous she was telling Human Resources about the engagement. The company didn't necessarily frown on employees marrying each other, but they wanted to make sure no managers were directly supervising their spouse. It made sense to me.

  “Let's dance.” Daphne grabbed my hand and dragged me onto the dance floor.

  “He's a really nice guy.”

  “You're saying that cause he's hot.” I was joking. I'd come to know Steve pretty well, since I had to write the words he said on air. I did think he was a nice guy and I wasn't too upset about my wife's crush on him.

  “No, I'm not.”

  “You don't think he's hot?”

  Daphne smiled. “Of course I do, but I also think he's pretty nice. There are plenty of good looking guys who are total assholes.”

  “Where do I fit in?” Did I really need the ego stroking?

  “You, my sweetheart, are the hottest, nicest guy I know.”

  Yes. Yes I did.

  Daphne leaned in to kiss me. Our lips met. She tasted like a cherry pop, with a hint of cinnamon, sweet with a dash of danger underneath.

  “And that's why I love you.”

  We danced for a few numbers. The DJ played a slow song and Daphne melded into my body. She felt so nice, her soft curves fitting me like a glove. Her head was tucked against my neck, I could feel her heart beat against my chest.

  “I love you, Daph.”

  “I love you, too, sweetheart. When are you going to show me where you work? Where the magic happens.”

  I chuckled. What I did was hardly magic. “A little later.”

  “Cool.” Daphne sighed and slipped her hands down my back to give my butt a squeeze. “There's something else I'd like a little later.”

  “Anytime.”

  “I know.”

  When the song ended, the DJ segued into something a little more upbeat.

  “I need a rest.” I broke away but Daphne kept dancing by herself, swaying her hips to the music. She was the one with magic. The way she moved her body was enchanting. I could watch her forever.

  “Fine.” My wife looked around and saw Steve and Elizabeth dancing. “You mind?”

  She was actually going to ask Steve to dance. I should have said no, let them be. I should have taken the opportunity to take her next door to the studio, show her where I work. If I had that night would have ended differently. But I was under her spell and I would deny her nothing.

  “Not at all.”

  Daphne gauged my answer. Her eye's darted down. She must have noticed my erection because when her eyes locked on to mine again she gave me a wicked grin.

  “I love you.” My wife blew me a kiss and went to step between Steve and his fiancee.

  I went back to our table, Elizabeth soon joined me. “She's quite forward.”

  “Wouldn't have her any other way.” And it was the truth. Something about her confidence aroused me.

  “You don't mind her dancing with other guys like that?”

  The music had turned, a driving beat, primal. Steve was a good dancer but my wife gyrated circles around him, moving her hips to the beat. She ran her hands up and down her body and several times rubbed her ass against his groin. I didn't look but I was sure he had an erection. I did.

  “Nope.” The word didn't have a lot of conviction behind it. I tore my eyes away from the dance and noticed Elizabeth was also transfixed by the passionate display. I wondered if she was as turned on as I was. “What about you?”

  “Whuh?” Liz was startled by the question.

  “You don't mind Steve dancing like that?”

  “Steve and I.” Her eyes were glued to the couple on the dance floor. “We have.” Elizabeth paused for a moment, trying to find the right word. “An understanding.”

  I had no idea what she meant.

  “I need to use the little girl's room.” And my companion was off and I was alone.

  I reached to take a drink but my glass was empty. I took a last look at my wife and Steve enjoying each other on the dance floor and headed over to the bar.

  “Let's see. Champagne, right?”

  I needed something stronger. “What's your oldest scotch?”

  “Glenfiddich. Eighteen.”

  “Perfect. Neat.”

  I meant t
o grab my drink and head back to watch Steve and my wife do whatever they were doing on the dance floor, but I got wrangled into a discussion with my news director and another producer about whether or not the station should invest in a helicopter. Before I knew it, a half hour had flown by.

  I glanced around and noticed the room had started to clear out with only about a dozen or so people left. The DJ was spinning straight holiday tunes and looked to be getting ready to pack it up. The dance floor was empty. Daphne and Steve were nowhere in sight.

  “Where'd they go?”

  Elizabeth was gathering up her purse and coat. “I think Steve took her over to the station. To give her a tour. Said something about showing her where the magic happens.”

  “And you didn't go?”

  She gave me a funny look. “I work there. I don't need to see – where the magic happens.”

  Was she insinuating something? Was this a part of their understanding?

  I could have been more direct, but I felt awkward asking Elizabeth if her fiancé had taken my wife somewhere to fuck. The thought stabbed me in the gut and sent a thrill through my cock.

  “Night, Richard. See you Monday.”

  “Night Liz.”

  I found myself alone in the ballroom, save for a few hotel staff starting to clear up the mess we'd made.

  ***

  The air had a slight chill, the dryness made it worse. The full moon peeked down at me between the leafless branches of the live oaks that lined the path from the hotel to the street, as I made my way to the MPN building. I stood at the light, waiting to cross and pulled my jacket tight to fight off the nipping wind. I could only imagine my wife and Steve, making this same walk, standing at the same spot waiting for the same light to change.

  Daphne must have been freezing with so much skin showing, her little wrap wouldn't do much for that. In my mind, Steve, ever the gentleman, gives her his jacket and puts his arm around her and she melts into his embrace.

  For some reason I notice, in my re-imagining of the scene, my wife's stiff nipples, hard due to the cold or arousal, probably both.

  The light changed and I had twenty seconds to cross the quiet street.