ODMS
08-18-2009, 11:08 AM
Alison and had been married just over four years. Sex had
been fantastic before we married, and after - for a while.
But it had started to tail off by the fourth year. It was still
good when it happened, but it happened less often. And boy,
did I miss it!
At work, I was asked if I wanted to go on a trip for a conference.
It was not really essential, more of a "pat on the head" event.
A couple of bus tours, a dinner, a party and (unfortunately)
also two days of conferences. The company said they would
pay for my wife to go too, as part of the deal. She was mad keen,
so we agreed to go.
She spent days choosing clothes for every event, and reading
guide books of things to see (Geneva is a nice city!).
The first night there was a big party to welcome us, and we
did the circular tour, reading name badges to see who was
who, chatting to people I knew or whose name I knew. At one
point, I got into an interesting work-chat, and Alison
was getting bored when a guy in the group started to chat
to her about home and her job and that stuff. After a bit,
I unhooked myself, and we wandered round again.
At some point, at the bar, we bumped into the guy she had chatted
to again. We talked to him for a few minutes, and he told us
about a nice restaurant nearby that would get busy soon
when the drinks party ended. Somehow, we asked him to show
us where it was, and he agreed to join us for dinner.
When we got to the restaurant, it was pretty busy, and our
guide chatted to a waiter. We were shown to a quietish corner
table. There was an L-shaped bench, and a large soft seat
facing this - seating for 3! Perfect. The restaurant was
a bit noisy, and he had to lean forward for me to hear him clearly,
but he was good company and told us a lot of useful stuff.
The restaurant was great, the food fabulous (as were the
prices), and the drink was lovely. At some point during
the main course, however, through the increasing haze
that two hours of drink had caused, I realised that I was
missing something. In a sudden flash, it became obvious
that whatever chat we had been having had been quite separate
from the fact that the guy was touching up Alison. Not just
once or twice, but from the way we were sitting at the table,
he had been able to do so since we sat down. And he had been,
I was sure.
And she had not only not objected, but had turned towards
him slightly, so at any time his hand could stroke her gorgeous
legs without anyone (including me) seeing.
I was horrified - and horribly excited. AND I was not quite
sure that it was really happening and not my imagination.
So I switched from drinking wine to water and watched. And
yes, not often, but when he leant forward to tell me some
story, or give some advice on the city or anything, his right
hand disappeared. And when it did, Alison changed her angle
to lean forward to hear him too, and I am sure opened her legs
or something for him too. A couple of times, after such a
"chat session", she was actually slightly flushed - obviously
a clever man to chat and finger at the same time.
When we left the restaurant, he asked if we knew the way to
our hotel. I wanted to leave him at this point, and said I
knew where to go - the hotel was not hard to find, really,
but Alison immediately insisted it was in the totally opposite
direction to wheere I knew it was. When I tried to correct
her, she got difficult - and it was only when our guide offered
to show us back to the hotel that she calmed down.
When we got back to the hotel, of course, he came in for another
drink. We sat and chatted, and he behaved. After all that
drink, of course, I eventually needed to visit the "little
boy's room". When I came back, from the look in Alison's
eyes, something had happened. "Sit and see" I said.
Shortly after, he left us, and we went up to bed.
Next morning I was a little tired. The morning session was
on an area of some interest to me, nothing major, but interesting
enough. Alison was booked on a walking tour. She was very
helpful to me in getting ready to go to my session - and I suddenly
wondered about it.
So rather than go to the conference hall, about 1/2 mile
from the hotel, I sat in the corner of the reception area,
near one of the shops. Sure enough, just as my session was
due to start, in came our guide. He went straight to the lift
(elevator) section and went up - a man who knew where he was
going.
I sat and thought. So if they are going on the walking tour
together, they will have to come out in the next 5 minutes.
If he is going to screw her, 5 minutes lets them get started.
So I waited a VERY VERY VERY long ten minutes. Ten minutes
during which they did not appear for the tour.
I had a plan of action worked out, and simply went up to our
room. On the door - inevitably - a sign saying "Do Not Disturb"
in big letters in a handful of languages. I quietly ran my
swipe key through the reader and slid the door open. I went
in quietly, and eased the door shut quietly.
There was a radio playing in the bedroom. But more than that
- in the middle of the hallway were Alison's shoes, and the
blouse she had been wearing when I left. On top of it was her
bra.
A few yards closer to the bedroom door, and there was her
skirt, in a heap. From where I stood, I could see that the
bedroom door was open a few inches, stopped from closing
by a pair of tights with the panties still wrapped into them.
My heart was racing, thudding so loud you would think they
must have heard it. But the radio played on, and I heard Alison's
rhythmic gasping that told me she was engaged in some physical
exercise.
And then I had the maddest, wildest, sexiest, wickedest
thought ever.
I straightened myself up, walked straight into the bedroom
where Alison was on top of Messieur Guide humping him like
there was tomorrow, said "Hi - sorry to interrupt - I forgot
my notes", picked them up, smiled, waved, and left.
When I got back at lunchtime, Alison was sitting, dressed
in the clothes that I had last seen on the floor. She was clearly
very nervous. I smiled and asked how she was. She said how
sorry she was and all that stuff, and I asked how long did
he stay after I left?
She said he left in about 5 minutes. "Odd" I said, "I was downstairs
for a while" (not true, I had gone for a long walk to calm down).
She froze. She stammered. I looked at her. Eventually she
said "he only left a half hour ago".
And then she threw herself at me and asked was I OK?
I asked "Was he good?" She froze again. She nodded.
"You suck him?" I asked then. Very stiffly, terrified,
she nodded.
"Fuck him a few ways?". Another nod.
"Anal?" I asked. Now here was a biggie - I had asked for anal
a few times and been told no. But I wondered. And she hugged
me hard, frozen. "Anal?" I asked again, getting more certain.
A little nod.
So I asked her why? And she said she didn't know - and I believed her.
"You did everything he wanted, nothing held back?" I asked - she blushed hugely and actually trembled, and nodded.
"So where do we stand?" I asked.
She started to cry softly, and said she would do anything to keep me, to make me happy. She said she had always wanted things but had never known how to do them or how to ask, and was so sorry and she would do anything to make me happy now - round and round in circles.
So our sexlife changed, became wilder and more exciting. And I love her totally.
But every so often she suddenly gets very enthusiastic with me, to have me try anything I want and so on - and I know that someone else has been "in conference" with her! But never let her know that I know.
been fantastic before we married, and after - for a while.
But it had started to tail off by the fourth year. It was still
good when it happened, but it happened less often. And boy,
did I miss it!
At work, I was asked if I wanted to go on a trip for a conference.
It was not really essential, more of a "pat on the head" event.
A couple of bus tours, a dinner, a party and (unfortunately)
also two days of conferences. The company said they would
pay for my wife to go too, as part of the deal. She was mad keen,
so we agreed to go.
She spent days choosing clothes for every event, and reading
guide books of things to see (Geneva is a nice city!).
The first night there was a big party to welcome us, and we
did the circular tour, reading name badges to see who was
who, chatting to people I knew or whose name I knew. At one
point, I got into an interesting work-chat, and Alison
was getting bored when a guy in the group started to chat
to her about home and her job and that stuff. After a bit,
I unhooked myself, and we wandered round again.
At some point, at the bar, we bumped into the guy she had chatted
to again. We talked to him for a few minutes, and he told us
about a nice restaurant nearby that would get busy soon
when the drinks party ended. Somehow, we asked him to show
us where it was, and he agreed to join us for dinner.
When we got to the restaurant, it was pretty busy, and our
guide chatted to a waiter. We were shown to a quietish corner
table. There was an L-shaped bench, and a large soft seat
facing this - seating for 3! Perfect. The restaurant was
a bit noisy, and he had to lean forward for me to hear him clearly,
but he was good company and told us a lot of useful stuff.
The restaurant was great, the food fabulous (as were the
prices), and the drink was lovely. At some point during
the main course, however, through the increasing haze
that two hours of drink had caused, I realised that I was
missing something. In a sudden flash, it became obvious
that whatever chat we had been having had been quite separate
from the fact that the guy was touching up Alison. Not just
once or twice, but from the way we were sitting at the table,
he had been able to do so since we sat down. And he had been,
I was sure.
And she had not only not objected, but had turned towards
him slightly, so at any time his hand could stroke her gorgeous
legs without anyone (including me) seeing.
I was horrified - and horribly excited. AND I was not quite
sure that it was really happening and not my imagination.
So I switched from drinking wine to water and watched. And
yes, not often, but when he leant forward to tell me some
story, or give some advice on the city or anything, his right
hand disappeared. And when it did, Alison changed her angle
to lean forward to hear him too, and I am sure opened her legs
or something for him too. A couple of times, after such a
"chat session", she was actually slightly flushed - obviously
a clever man to chat and finger at the same time.
When we left the restaurant, he asked if we knew the way to
our hotel. I wanted to leave him at this point, and said I
knew where to go - the hotel was not hard to find, really,
but Alison immediately insisted it was in the totally opposite
direction to wheere I knew it was. When I tried to correct
her, she got difficult - and it was only when our guide offered
to show us back to the hotel that she calmed down.
When we got back to the hotel, of course, he came in for another
drink. We sat and chatted, and he behaved. After all that
drink, of course, I eventually needed to visit the "little
boy's room". When I came back, from the look in Alison's
eyes, something had happened. "Sit and see" I said.
Shortly after, he left us, and we went up to bed.
Next morning I was a little tired. The morning session was
on an area of some interest to me, nothing major, but interesting
enough. Alison was booked on a walking tour. She was very
helpful to me in getting ready to go to my session - and I suddenly
wondered about it.
So rather than go to the conference hall, about 1/2 mile
from the hotel, I sat in the corner of the reception area,
near one of the shops. Sure enough, just as my session was
due to start, in came our guide. He went straight to the lift
(elevator) section and went up - a man who knew where he was
going.
I sat and thought. So if they are going on the walking tour
together, they will have to come out in the next 5 minutes.
If he is going to screw her, 5 minutes lets them get started.
So I waited a VERY VERY VERY long ten minutes. Ten minutes
during which they did not appear for the tour.
I had a plan of action worked out, and simply went up to our
room. On the door - inevitably - a sign saying "Do Not Disturb"
in big letters in a handful of languages. I quietly ran my
swipe key through the reader and slid the door open. I went
in quietly, and eased the door shut quietly.
There was a radio playing in the bedroom. But more than that
- in the middle of the hallway were Alison's shoes, and the
blouse she had been wearing when I left. On top of it was her
bra.
A few yards closer to the bedroom door, and there was her
skirt, in a heap. From where I stood, I could see that the
bedroom door was open a few inches, stopped from closing
by a pair of tights with the panties still wrapped into them.
My heart was racing, thudding so loud you would think they
must have heard it. But the radio played on, and I heard Alison's
rhythmic gasping that told me she was engaged in some physical
exercise.
And then I had the maddest, wildest, sexiest, wickedest
thought ever.
I straightened myself up, walked straight into the bedroom
where Alison was on top of Messieur Guide humping him like
there was tomorrow, said "Hi - sorry to interrupt - I forgot
my notes", picked them up, smiled, waved, and left.
When I got back at lunchtime, Alison was sitting, dressed
in the clothes that I had last seen on the floor. She was clearly
very nervous. I smiled and asked how she was. She said how
sorry she was and all that stuff, and I asked how long did
he stay after I left?
She said he left in about 5 minutes. "Odd" I said, "I was downstairs
for a while" (not true, I had gone for a long walk to calm down).
She froze. She stammered. I looked at her. Eventually she
said "he only left a half hour ago".
And then she threw herself at me and asked was I OK?
I asked "Was he good?" She froze again. She nodded.
"You suck him?" I asked then. Very stiffly, terrified,
she nodded.
"Fuck him a few ways?". Another nod.
"Anal?" I asked. Now here was a biggie - I had asked for anal
a few times and been told no. But I wondered. And she hugged
me hard, frozen. "Anal?" I asked again, getting more certain.
A little nod.
So I asked her why? And she said she didn't know - and I believed her.
"You did everything he wanted, nothing held back?" I asked - she blushed hugely and actually trembled, and nodded.
"So where do we stand?" I asked.
She started to cry softly, and said she would do anything to keep me, to make me happy. She said she had always wanted things but had never known how to do them or how to ask, and was so sorry and she would do anything to make me happy now - round and round in circles.
So our sexlife changed, became wilder and more exciting. And I love her totally.
But every so often she suddenly gets very enthusiastic with me, to have me try anything I want and so on - and I know that someone else has been "in conference" with her! But never let her know that I know.