How far will a man go to make his wife happy?



I



As Amy snuggled up in bed with me she looked particularly animated.



"So did you have a nice time tonight?" I asked.



"Oh, yes. Lovely."



I should explain that Amy and I are in our late forties and have been married for just over twenty years. We live on the outskirts of London in the UK. We're both in our late forties. I still look pretty good, if I may so, but I show my age. Amy, on the other hand looks stunning. She could easily pass for a woman ten years younger yet she still has the exceptional sexy appeal of the older woman. She also works out regularly and the resulting trimness and strength adds to her attraction. I often see guys eyeing her when we are out and about. At five foot ten with blonde hair framing a beautiful, intelligent face, and a lightly tanned creamy skin and clear complexion she must be every man's desire. And she knows it.



I really do not know why she married me and I still cannot believe that she is my wife. Or how lucky I am to have her with me every day. She is always randy. We make love once or twice a week or even more and I always meet her expectations. We have no children: Amy has always been fiercely ambitious and determined. She knew exactly what she wanted: an outstandingly successful company owned and managed by her. Children were not even mentioned before or after our wedding.



We live pretty comfortably: while I'm a software engineer in a large corporation, true to her ambitions, Amy runs her own PR company with some fifty employees. We both work in London's West End. Amy suggested at one time that I come and work for her - she said she liked the idea of bossing me around. I did try but couldn't really hack it and eventually we both decided that it would be better if I worked elsewhere. I had a feeling she thought I didn't quite come up to the mark. She didn't say anything but I'm sure it was there.



Anyway, her PR company has gone from strength to strength since she founded it some twenty years ago (just after we married), and she has some pretty high powered celebrities on her books. She can be a tough boss. She has no difficulty firing someone if they don't meet her requirements. (After all, in a way, she fired me.) The success of her company is all important. I never heard this from Amy but at an office party once someone told me how she made some poor guy, who had messed up an important contract, apologise by going down on his knees and kissing her shoes in the middle of a meeting. He had to continue for fifteen minutes while the meeting continued. In the PR world jobs in her company were highly valued!



Running her own company she is often invited to some high powered functions. Sometimes I go, sometimes I don't. It depends on the function and what I'm doing. All this might sound like we lead independent lives but we don't. I adore her and she adores me. I've always thought so and I think I still do. Tonight, a warm summer night in June, she had just returned from a marketing function and, although, I had been keen to come with her she thought that this time the presence of spouses was not going to be suitable. So, regretfully, earlier in the evening, I had watched my glamorous wife disappearing off in a taxi to the Kensington Hilton.



She returned just before twelve but did not want to talk about the evening until we were in bed. As she answered my question she stared at me with her large green eyes.



"It was really fun. I even did some dancing - I haven't danced for ages."



"It's a shame I wasn't there. I love dancing with you. You move so well."



"You don't like dancing!"



"What do you mean? I love dancing."



"Alright," she said. "I suppose you do. But you're really not very good, are you?"



I grumbled. She was right, I thought. I do love dancing but I'm not graceful and I'm not that good at leading. "I suppose you're right," I admitted.



"Oh, darling," she said. "Don't look so sad. We can go dancing if you really want to. But I did have a great time tonight. I was dancing with one guy and we really clicked. On a dancing level!" she laughed, when she realised what she said. "I think I had about eighty percent of my dances with him."



Looking at her closely, I asked, "Did you dance any slow ones with him?"



"Of course I did. But there was no hanky panky. He was very respectful. And," she added proudly, "he was about fifteen years younger than me!"



"And very good looking, no doubt."



"Well...I suppose some women might think so."



"Did you think so?" I found I was feeling a little jealous.



She nodded her head slowly. "I suppose I did." She lay next to me looking thoughtful. Then she turned back to me. "His name's John. He works at Mackenzie Walsh. You know, the large advertising agency?"



"So you had time to chat to him?"



She turned away from me again. "Well we weren't just dancing all the time. We were talking about work. That was the point of the function. But I did enjoy dancing with him."



We were both quiet for a moment. Then she turned back.



"Darling?" She hesitated before she continued. I had a feeling I knew what was coming. "Would you mind if I went out dancing with him?"



There was a lump in my throat. I did not know what to say.



"I'm a happily married woman and I love you. You don't have to worry. It's just dancing. I did have so much fun. He's already asked me for next Saturday."



"But Saturday night is our special night. We always spend it together."



"I know, I know. But he has to be away this week and I really want to go dancing as soon as possible. Would you mind?" She smiled at me teasingly and dropped her hand softly onto my cock. "Would you mind if I went out dancing with a young, handsome man?" As she stroked my cock it quickly got hard. "Hmm... It looks like you wouldn't mind at all." She laughed as she withdrew her hand and put both arms around my neck and kissed me hungrily. "Oh, thank you, darling. You won't regret it."



"What do you mean?" My heart was banging away in my head. I could barely hear her. She seemed to be controlling everything.



"Well, you'll have a very happy wife who's very indebted to you." She cocked her head on her side. "I was thinking about you while I was dancing. I was thinking about my lovely, patient husband waiting for me at home while I was out enjoying myself and it got me all wet. See?" She grabbed my hand and drew it down to her pussy. It was sopping. "Now why don't you get down there and do what you're really good at. Lick me for all your worth, darling." She put her hands on my shoulders and gently but firmly pushed me down. I mentally shrugged my shoulders. I loved licking Amy. I could always sort this dancing craze out later. Would she really go out with another guy? I was anxious and worried but also, strangely, excited as I dragged my body down hers and put my head between her legs.



"Lovely, darling. You are the best," she said as she tightened her thighs around my head.



II



It was the following Saturday. Over the previous days I had avoided mentioning anything about the dancing, hoping that it would not come off. Perhaps John was just trying it on. Amy did not say anything either. On Saturday morning, however, I noticed a strange gleam in her eye. After lunch I was busy in the garden and then had some repairs to do on our gazebo. I thought I heard the phone ring at one time but I could not be sure. By 5.30 I was back in the house. As I went upstairs I saw Amy disappearing into the bedroom from the bathroom. When I entered the bedroom she was already sitting naked by her dressing table applying her makeup.



"You're getting ready early," I said.



"Oh, John just called up and suggested meeting for dinner first," Amy said coolly, continuing to apply her makeup. "I thought that was nice of him, wanting to make it into proper evening. So, I've been dashing around trying to get ready."



"Oh," I said. My disappointment must have shown on my face.



"Darling, come here." I moved over to my wife and she brought my head down to hers and kissed me warmly on the lips. "You are a man in a million, allowing me to do this. Please don't worry, it's just a dinner and dance. I won't be back late. You're making me so happy." She looked at me fixedly. "I won't forget this." Then she turned back to apply her makeup. "Could you do me a favour, dear? I'm running short of time. Would you mind giving my white high heels a polish?"



"The one's with the peep toes?"



"Yes, those."



"You always said they were bedroom shoes. You've never wanted to wear them outside before."



"John's very tall. I don't want him to tower over me! Just give them a polish, please. I don't want to be late."



I got the polish and the shoes and started to buff them up.



"What will you be doing tonight," asked Amy as she continued touching up her makeup to ensure it was perfect.



I mentioned a few things but she did not seem to be listening. Suddenly she turned to me. "Are the shoes ready?"



"Yup."



"Then put them on." She stretched out her legs and I knelt down. As I was putting them on and doing up the complicated buckles she rubbed my hair. "I do love you," she said. "Now let me finish getting dressed," she added as I stood up. "And could you call me a taxi for twenty minutes time?"



I went down to the sitting room and called a taxi. My feelings were confused. I was anxious and irritated but I found my cock was pressing hard against my trousers at the thought of her going out with another man, even though it was only for dinner and dance. And I trusted Amy. It would only be a dinner and a dance. I knew she would not lie to me. She was far too open for that. Her openness were all part of what made her so desirable.



I became aware of footsteps on the stairs and hurried out of the sitting room to see Amy standing in a mid-length white sleeveless dress, bare legs and her white high heels. With her slightly tanned skin she looked devastating. I felt my cock rising up even further.



"What do you think?" she said, as twirled round.



"You look absolutely gorgeous. Is that a new dress?"



"Yes," said Amy. "I bought it this week. I really needed something new."



"Why did you buy something new for a stranger?"



"It is a special occasion, darling. I didn't want John to think I had just flung something on."



I desperately wanted to go out with her.



"I really wish I was going out with you. You look so lovely."



"Thank you, kind sir," she said with a mock curtsey. "Just wait for tonight. You'll get your reward." There was knock on the door.



"That's my taxi," she said as grabbed her bag.



"What time will you get home?"



"Shouldn't be too late," she said as she air kissed me. "I don't want to spoil my make-up," she explained. "Bye, darling." She opened the door, smiled at me and then disappeared.



III



I could scarcely believe my wife had just gone on a date with another guy. Okay, so it was not a real date. Just friends going out dancing. But I still felt weird. My cock felt as hard as it had ever felt. Harder. Much harder. I decided to walk down the road and get a take-away. Half-an-hour later I was in the sitting room with a plate of food on my lap. By seven o'clock I had finished eating and the whole evening stretched before me. I wondered where Amy was. I groaned as I took my cock from my trousers and started stroking it. I wanted to come so much but I did not want to miss out on having sex with Amy when she came home. I thought about how beautiful Amy had looked as she left. John was a damned lucky man. I was annoyed: it should have been me. Still, she did love dancing.



I thought about her dancing with John and my cock got harder and harder. Would she be dancing very close? Would she be kissing him? Surely not. She loved me. She had promised me my reward. I could not help it. I thought about my wife kissing him as they danced. I carried on stroking my cock till I came with an incredible orgasm.



For the rest of the evening I tried to occupy my time watching a couple of films on television. I kept thinking about Amy and got hornier and hornier. I desperately wanted her. Eleven o'clock came and went. Half-past eleven. Then just before twelve the front door opened and I heard voices. Amy came into the sitting room followed by a tall young man who I assumed was John. He was certainly good looking in a wiry, sleek way. Amy's face broke into a smile when she saw I was still up.



"You waited up for me! How lovely. You can meet John." We shook hands and exchanged a few words. "John insisted on bringing me home so I thought the least I could do was give him a coffee. Would you mind making us some drinks? I'm totally exhausted." She flopped down on the couch and patted the seat next to her. "John?". As John sat down next to her Amy smiled at me in a strange rather complicated way I could not understand.



I disappeared into the kitchen and left them chatting together. Amy looked wonderful, her face bright, her eyes lively and excited. I could not wait for John to go. I had to admit that in the few brief words I had exchanged with him he did seem very pleasant. Warm and friendly and not in the least arrogant - which I had been suspicious he might be. Still I would be pleased when he left!



I carried the drinks into the sitting room, put them down in front of them and sat down in a seat next to the couch. Amy and John thanked me and carried on with their conversation. However, they both made sure to include me and soon I was enjoying chatting to both of them. John was really nice. We found we had quite a few things in common. Eventually John excused himself to go to the loo.



"Don't you think he's nice?" said Anne.



"Yes he is. Very pleasant, very friendly."



"Oh, I'm so pleased you like him." She was still for a moment and then fiddled with the hair over her ears.



"Darling?" She spoke slowly as if she were unsure how to proceed. "You do know I really love you?



I nodded. My skin prickled.



She leaned over and held my hand. "Could you do me a great favour?" She stared at me.



"What is it?" My voice was husky. I barely recognised it.



She hesitated momentarily. "Would you mind sleeping in the guest room tonight?"



My stomach lurched. "Why? What's the matter?"



"I've been dancing with John all evening. We were dancing close and I even kissed him. I couldn't help myself, it was so romantic. Our bodies were pressing against each other. I'm sure he wants to have sex with me. And I want to have sex with him."



"You want to make love to someone else in our bed?"



"I don't want to go behind your back. You know I'm not that kind of girl. I just want John so much. Please let me have this."



I did not know what to say. I sat there struck dumb.



"Imagine. You'll have a happy contented wife who owes you everything. And I will. You've no idea how much I'll owe you. Please let me have this. I know you love me. I know you want me to be happy."



"I've been looking forward all evening to making love with you. You promised me my reward. You can't do this."



"Darling, I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. It's not that I can or I can't do this. It's that I have to. I think I'll go mad if I don't fuck John." I was surprised. I'd never heard her use that kind of language before. "Please let me do this one thing. I want it. I need it so much."



"If I asked you not to?"



"I would be so disappointed. It would show you did not understand me. But I know you do understand me. I've always thought of us as true soul mates. We've always been on the same wavelength... Is it alright, then?" She stared at me appealingly. Imploringly.



I felt I was being rushed. I did not know what to do. I clearly would never be able to dissuade her. I mutely nodded my head. I felt sick.



"I need to hear you say it."



I sighed. "It's okay for you to have sex with John."



She smiled contentedly. "Oh thank you, darling." She threw her arms around my neck and kissed me fervently on the lips. "You are wonderful." She released me just before John entered the room. He dropped onto the couch.



"Alan was saying he's feeling tired and thinks he'll go to bed."



I stood up barely conscious of what I was doing. I was confused. "Nice to meet you, John," I said, waving vaguely at him.



"And you too," said John, smiled broadly, almost innocently.



I hurried away upstairs to the guest room. I wanted to be in that room and asleep before I heard them making love. I found I was almost breathless with excitement at the idea of my wife making love to another man in our house while I was there. But I was upset too. I wanted to make love to her. My head was spinning.



As I lay in bed slowly drifting off to sleep I thought I could hear them coming up the stairs, my wife murmuring softly. And then no more...



IV



I awoke about eight. There was no sound from the master bedroom. Feeling famished I slung on my dressing gown and went downstairs and made some breakfast. I got the Sunday papers from outside the front door and had been in the kitchen for about twenty minutes, reading them, when Amy appeared in a white transparent robe - I had never seen this before either. Even through the robe I could see her pubic hairs were matted. She looked happy and contented.



She smiled when she saw me and came over to give me a hungry kiss. Pressing herself against me and sticking her tongue down my mouth I could taste and smell everything. I could taste semen in her mouth. She hadn't sucked my cock for some years and even then had disliked the idea of swallowing. She did not seem to have the same inhibitions with John.



"Are you bored with me?" I asked. "Is this what last night is about?"



Amy shook her head. "No, no! I'm not bored with you at all. I couldn't have a lovelier, more understanding husband. Last night was just something I had to do." She busied herself putting cups and plates together on a tray. "I'll just make some breakfast for me and John and then we'll have the rest of the day for ourselves." She hummed quietly to herself as poured orange juice, made coffee, prepared toast, looking over at me occasionally and smiling. When she was ready she picked up the tray. "I'll see you soon, darling," she whispered, grabbing some of the Sunday papers as she passed me to go up the stairs.



I returned to reading the papers. I had been absorbed in them for about forty minutes when I heard sounds from upstairs. It was Amy gasping. I barely made out the words. "Oh, yes, John. There, just there. Oh, yes, Yes!" Then an almighty cry, followed soon after by a groan from John. I felt awkward and humiliated. Yet my cock immediately grew. I was appalled. I gently stroked it. There was silence from upstairs and I returned to the papers. Fifteen minutes later I was sure I could hear Amy giggling. The giggling became sighing and then the sighing became panting, getting louder and louder and then ending once again in a cry. And once again there was silence. After about another forty minutes I thought Amy must be ready by now. We could send John on his way and have our Sunday together.



I went upstairs. As I approached our bedroom I heard more sounds. The door was open and from the landing I could just see John stretched out on the bed while Amy lowered herself onto his cock and started to ride John up and down. I had always wanted Amy to do this but she had disliked the idea. Now she bounced up and down joyously. I hurried away quickly and quietly before they saw me.



In the kitchen I sat there listening to the bed sounds, to Amy crying out with abandon, and fingering my cock until I came in an amazing orgasm. Then I closed the kitchen door and absorbed myself in the papers. Eventually I heard the someone on the stairs. It was twelve-thirty. About time, I thought. I went out into the hallway and saw Amy at the foot of the stairs.

