|
By (user no longer on site) OP
over a year ago
|
You know who you are....
As we'd arranged the two of you had checked in early, you'd scanned the bar area as you came in but as I'd suggested I'd given the two of you a bit of time to get ready. She was showered and dressing when my txt arrived informing you that I was waiting in the bar. You nervously replied that you'd be down shortly, and after a hurried discussion decided that it'd be best if you went down to meet me while she finished dressing and came down once she was done, not a good idea to keep me waiting!
So down you came and joined me in the bar, making excuses for her lateness you asked me if I wanted another drink. I demurred so you went to the bar to fetch yourself a drink. She still hadn't put in an appearance by the time you came back, so after apologising again you sit and we make the usual kind of small talk.
When she did appear I was very glad she'd taken the time as she was looking stunning. The bar was pretty dead so what heads there were turned to follow her. Being the gentleman I stood up as she came over and moved to give her a welcome kiss, what you didn't see was that as I did my hand ran over her delicious arse which not only put that smile on her face, but also set the bar staff's tongues wagging. You ask her if she'd like a drink, but I suggest that considering her tardiness we'd best not delay things any further. She nods and the two of us walk away from the table to the foyer, disappearing into the lift. Your last view as the doors close is of my hands on her hips, pulling her into my body as we start to kiss deeply.
You sit at the table mind racing at the thought of what you'd witnessed. It's not your very first experience of something like this, but the first time you've really been involved. Suddenly your phone buzzes, you pick it up and there's a message from me. You open the message and there's a photo of her looking gorgeous in just her underwear. You recognise the hotel room, your suitcase in the background, but the underwear is new to you. A pang of jealousy strikes as you realise that she must have been out shopping to buy a special outfit just for me. Underneath is the simple question "doesn't she look gorgeous?"
You put your phone back down on the table, I'd been very clear in my instructions that if you were to receive any messages you were to leave them on the screen, and imagine what's happening upstairs.
Lost in thoughts you're suddenly jerked back to reality as the barman who's walked over asks if you'd like another drink. You ask for another beer and he, seemingly reluctantly, leaves to fetch it. As he walks back to the bar you realise that the phone hadn't gone to the screen saver and he'd almost definitely seen the picture I'd sent you. So I wasn't the only man to see her in that sexy underwear that day!
You find yourself squirming a bit as he comes back, he's checking out your phone as he puts the glass down in front of you, and obviously disappointed to see that the screen has blanked itself.
He leaves just in time, the phone buzzes and another message pops up on your screen. You pick it up, open the message, and an image flashes onto the screen. It's another picture showing her in the underwear, but this time she's lying over my lap. Her knickers have been pulled down below her buttocks, which are a brilliant red. I'd obviously decided to punish her with a spanking. "I think she's learnt the error of her ways" is the message accompanying this one.
It feels like everything's become more real with this message, before it was just like looking at one of the many photos you'd taken of her over time (and shared with other men) but this photo is the first 'evidence' of her playing with another man.
Before you have time to think about it properly the phone buzzes again with another message from me. You open it and the mixture of emotions inside you surges, blood rushes to your cock whilst at the same time a rising tide of humiliation overwhelms you. The photo is taken from above, I'm obviously standing and she's kneeling before me. My flies are undone, her hand has reached into them, wrapped around the shaft of my hardness, and her mouth is sucking on it. She's looking up into the camera, my spare hand keeping her hair out of the way so you can see exactly what she's doing. "Now she's thanking me for my discipline".
You put the phone down on the table as per instructions, mind racing, heart pounding, your imagination running wild. You take a big gulp of your drink as you sit there, thinking about what could be going on upstairs.
Time seems to pass in fits and starts, the phone screen goes blank which you're rather pleased about as more people walk in. You wish you had something to do but all you can do is think about what you saw on the screen, and what you imagine is going on.
Your drink is finished rather quickly and the bar man comes over and you order another one. As he's back at the bar filling a glass for you the phone buzzes again, you press the button to open the message and are greeted by yet another heart stopping picture. This time I've sent you one showing her sitting on the side of the bed. Her knickers are gone and her legs are spread wide. Her hand is between her legs, spreading herself open, showing off how obviously excited she is. Her face is a picture of excitement, those lovely lips of hers swollen and parted, colour in her cheeks, her eyes looking at something with obvious lust. "She's ready for me" is the comment, not that it's required..
The bar man's obviously noticed the buzz because you notice him rushing back with your glass, the screen darkens but not before he's had a chance to catch a glimpse. The thought that he's wondering what the hell is going on mixes in with all the thoughts of what's happening upstairs, an additional thrill of humiliation runs through you.
He leaves you to your turmoil, you are grateful that I'd chosen a table as you know that you've a mound in your trousers that would be rather noticeable. You activate the phone again and look at that last photo, studying it, seeing just how aroused she looks, noticing how erect her nipples are, noticing marks on her skin from kisses, touches, maybe little bites. You imagine what I'd done to get her to that level of arousal.
The phone's message alert goes again, you open the photo and it's like the culmination of your fantasies. It's me lying on my back on the bed, straddling my cock is your wife, she's lifted herself slightly so you can see how she's just being penetrated. Before you have time to read the message another one arrives, this time from her phone. It's one short sentence "oh god he's good".
That opens the flood gate, you think about all the conversations you'd had with me, about how you both felt you couldn't fully satisfy her, and now she's upstairs riding my cock, looking for that fulfilment you'd not given her. You're feeling humiliated, but so aroused. Part of you thinks about going upstairs, interrupting, though you're unsure if it would be to stop or to ask to be allowed to join in, a thought that increases your humiliation and strangely your arousal too.
Another message arrives, it's from me again. You open it and the photo is taken looking down at her. She's on her back, with her legs drawn back up to and to the side of her chest, her hands pulling them back. You can see my cock sunk into her pussy, but it's partially obscured by my hand above it. Looking closely you realise that I've got a couple of fingers alongside my cock, inside her too.
You imagine how that must be feeling when suddenly your phone starts to ring. The barman looks up as you look in shock at your phone, it's her number. You answer and you're greeted by the sound of her moaning. She's obviously close to coming as she moans, gasps, begs and swears. Then you hear her losing control, letting her orgasm rip through her, the phone obviously being dropped. You listen on, hearing her muffled sounds as she comes and comes, then calmer, more gentle sounds as it subsides. Then she hangs up.
You've never felt like this before, a pinnacle of arousal and humiliation, an exciting shame. You can only imagine what's going on upstairs as you sit there. Suddenly you get worried that someone might have over heard, but looking round the room no one seems to have heard anything. The sounds you heard are going round and round in your head, you've never heard her coming like that and it confirms everything that the two of you had talked about. Not just her need to be fulfilled by someone else, but how much you needed her to have that, your craving for the humiliation.
As you play over everything in your head, you see the bar man come over. He stops by the table and asks if your 'friends' are going to be coming back, you wonder for a second then realise that my glass is still sitting on the table. Just at the same moment your phone buzzes with a message from me. Caught in the moment, utterly turned on but craving more you look up at him and reply that your wife and her friend won't be back, your hardness confirming your thoughts about the source of your arousal. Amazing yourself by how much you want more humiliation you press your phone to open the message.
The bar man looks down at the screen and sees the same image that you do. It's a photo of your wife lying on the bed utterly spent. The lingerie she'd bought for me is dishevelled and more off then on, she's lying unmoving, spent on the bed. You can see that the rumpled sheet between her legs is obviously soaking wet with her arousal. Her flesh is covered in a layer of sweat that catches the light. The lips of her sex are puffy, red and swollen. Looking closely you can see that her eye shadow has run down her face. You have a sudden flashback of her voice on the phone and you understand exactly how she came to be like that.
Another message pops up, this time from her. You press to open it and read her message. "God he's so good, I'm spent".
You slowly reach forward and pick up the phone as the barman stares at it. He looks at you with scorn, then turns to head back to the bar, but as he walks away you can see the front of his trousers tenting....she certainly has that effect on men.
The phone buzzes again, another message from her. "You were going to be given a choice but he's decided we both needed punishment, so come up when you get his message". You sit there wondering, then the phone buzzes one last time. You pick it up, look at it and walk over to the lifts. You're aware of the barman looking at you as you go, blood flushes to your face in shame, enforced by the knowledge that your arousal is obvious to all and sundry thanks to the obvious bulge in your trousers. Your legs wobble a bit as you walk, both at what's happened and at the contents of the message.
You look at it again as you wait for the lift to take you up. It's your wife over the edge of the bed, she's reaching behind her to pull her buttocks apart. The exposed rosebud of her arse is covered in what is obviously my come. The message, simply "supper's ready". |