He was in a daze for a week afterwards. He wasn’t shocked or horrified or mortally offended by what she had done: he felt a little strange, but underneath it all was unbelievably content.
It felt as though they had climbed some monumental peak, and survived. They had achieved a great feat, and come back to tell the tale. Hugo loved Madeleine more than ever before—the experience of knowing she had been with another man, had another man inside her, had certainly not shaken that.
If anything, knowing that she had finally gone through with it, taken the gift of her sexual independence and experienced what pleasures were available made Hugo feel satisfaction, that his gift had been enjoyed, appreciated, driving Madeleine wild with lust, turning her into a goddess of carnal desire.
He woke up the next day feeling serene. He was like some kind of zen master, he was so calm and quietly joyous.
Madeleine had fucked another man. She was so sexy, she was so desirable, she was his.
Every night that next week, they made love. The first few nights, they couldn’t even wait long enough after getting in from work to have supper—their hands were all over each other, tearing off clothes, freeing up parts of anatomy for a quick confluence and red hot passion wherever they happened to be when the clothes dropped—in the kitchen, on the sofas in front of the TV, in the bedroom, even on the window seat, though the blinds remained closed. This was their time.
Hugo was unbelievably hard, though he wasn’t always able to sustain it so long, the thought constantly on his mind that Madeleine had had a one night stand, giving her body to someone else, tearing up the marital rule book.
He wanted to know more and more details—did she suck him? Did she swallow his come? Did he make her come when he was inside her? Yes, yes and yes. It all added fuel to Hugo’s fire, as he found himself subconsciously trying to compete with the other man, trying to assert his status as her primary, alpha male.
Madeleine was seriously wet, every time Hugo came near her. To start with, she found it difficult to open up about her experience, but each successive night she seemed bolder, opening up about how nervous she’d been, particularly as the monumental events arrived—stripping off for him, seeing him naked for the first time, putting his cock in her mouth.
Rolling the condom down his cock, straddling him, slipping it inside her.
She blushed as she said the man had asked about whether he might become a regular client.
“You could, you know,” Hugo said, and saw a little shock in her face that he might contemplate such a thing. “You’d probably end up earning more than me just from dating him.”
“Dating? It wouldn’t be dating.”
“But you’d enjoy it.”
“I think if I actually started to be a hooker, I’d probably be so inept at it, I’d end up in jail in a week.”
She told him she had had to stop going for workouts in the gym that week—only swimming was safe for her, she was so wet all the time. She had to carry spare panties in her purse in case her mind started drifting off to that night while she was at work.
She was also very affectionate that whole week—if they weren’t making love, she was still touching him, brushing against him, hugging him, squeezing him, kissing him. Appreciating him, it seemed, much more than normal. He liked that.
In bed, she was somehow different, too. More driven, more open, more vocal in her responses to him and in demanding what she wanted.
At work, Hugo had to be careful not to make his colleagues think he was on some kind of medication. The first day back, Lowego stopped by his cubicle and asked him if he was all right.
“You have this weird glow about you,” he said. “If you weren’t so ugly, I’d start wondering who got you pregnant.”
Hugo chuckled at that, but silently checked himself. He couldn’t afford to give off an odd impression. What if Ray had seen him with a glow about him? It would have been merciless taunting for weeks, if he was lucky.
“Oh you know how it is,” Hugo said, trying to brush off his co-worker’s interest.
“Well you obviously got fucked completely senseless last night.”
“I’m not sure I’m at liberty to tell you.”
“Seriously, and you’ve been married what, four years? Five?”
“How do you keep her interested?”
“I guess I found out what flicks her switch.”
“Jesus. God damn miracle if I ever discovered what flicks Rachel’s switch. Well, I guess Graham Beaumont from accounts flicked her switch a few times.”
“You guys sorted that whole thing out?”
“I guess. Still kinda raw.”
Hugo felt bad for Lowego, but it wasn’t really his place to interfere. He sometimes wished he could talk to the guy about his own strange journey with Madeleine, perhaps in the same way his wife could discuss things with Lucy. But he didn’t have that same level of trust stretching back to a shared room in college. And what were the chances that Lowego could share the same kind of philosophy on monogamy as he apparently did? Hugo got the impression that Lowego was finding it difficult to handle the thought that his wife had strayed, and perhaps always would. Unlikely that a guy like that would see consensual infidelity as the answer to his marital strife, then.
The rest of the week, Hugo was able to contain himself at work, conceal that buzzing effervescence inside him.
Then Friday came, and Madeleine was due for a night out with Lucy, just the two of them. Hugo didn’t even give it a thought—the two friends had been having regular nights out since Lucy had moved to New York, renewing the kind of friendship they’d enjoyed back in Boston.
But then he mentioned it to Ray at work, and the guy’s casual response suddenly got Hugo thinking.
“Girls night out, huh?” his co-worker smiled. “Sounds like trouble. Hope you’ve not been neglecting the bedroom duties recently, Romeo.”
“I think we’re fine in that department, thanks, Ray,” Hugo rolled his eyes, something he very rarely did.
“Okay, dude. But if you want some distraction while your broad is out jiving with other guys in some seedy club somewhere, we’ll be having a few quick ones after work.”
“Sure, sounds good.”
Ray sauntered off, pleased his little gathering in the bar would be a little bigger that evening—but he left Hugo feeling breathless. Was this the life he now led? Ray had pointed out that the cliché of a girls’ night out was that the girls would let their hair down away from the gaze of their menfolk, and perhaps do a few things of which their menfolk wouldn’t entirely approve.
Now they’d gotten to this stage in their new fantasy, would Madeleine feel she could go off and ‘jive with other guys’ on the dance floor or wherever else, without telling Hugo?
What if he received a text from her late at night asking permission to go home with someone she’d met in a club somewhere?
Sitting there at his desk, Hugo was frightened and excited all over again. He did actually like the idea of his beautiful wife having a good time on her girls’ night out, flirting and teasing other men, maybe even going further—kissing, touching, even more perhaps. But there was something a little too terrifying about the idea that she might go completely out of control.
And he didn’t like the idea that she’d have this thrilling time and then keep it secret from him. He wanted to share in her good times, even if he wasn’t there when it happened.
It felt strange, though, to think of girls’ night out with Lucy in a different way than he had for years. It was no longer the innocent night out it used to be—there was dark potential within it. With Lucy fully appraised of the new direction their marriage had taken recently, she would no doubt be encouraging Madeleine to run with it, and go for any young buck that took her fancy.
Hugo knew he had to talk to Madeleine, let her know how he felt. He didn’t want to restrict her in any way, but he didn’t want to be excluded, that was all.
The talk was going to have to wait until after this particular girls’ night out, however, since he wasn’t going to see Madeleine before it.
Madeleine seemed happy enough that he would be going out as well when he gave her a quick call before the end of the working day. The way she said she was pleased he would be grabbing a few drinks with Ray, Lowego and Davis suggested that she thought he’d been a little too focused on her happiness recently, neglecting his own social life.
“I do go out occasionally,” he protested.
“What, when you’re out of town on business, and you have no choice but to go out?” she chuckled. “You need to let your hair down, sweetie!”
“I suppose so.”
“Maybe we need to enshrine a regular Girls’ Night and Boys’ Night to go alongside our Date Night from now on,” she said, sounding as though she was joking, or half-joking at least.
“Maybe we should,” he tried to sound upbeat, jovial. He wasn’t going to say anything about his new-found anxiety regarding Girls’ Night. He couldn’t quite get his head around it himself.
He wanted her to play with other guys, didn’t he? Why was he so nervous about this?
“So what’re you guys planning for tonight?” he asked her casually, trying not to sound as though he was prying, though that was exactly what he wanted to do.
“Oh, nothing much,” she said. “Some drinking, a lot of chatting, maybe some dancing later?”
“You will be careful, won’t you?” he said, figuring he was allowed to act the concerned husband, even though he didn’t want to dissuade her from actually having a wild night.
“Of course,” she said, and Hugo found himself mildly surprised that she didn’t then add some kind of reassuring statement confirming she wasn’t looking to fool around with anyone that evening. She just left it at of course.
Again, Hugo found himself wanting to tell her he needed a say in whoever she felt like sleeping with—but that dark little part of him that had first got him into this fantasy seemed to hold him back.
She’s even more sexy if she’s taking these decisions for herself, that devilish inner voice of his told him.
He lasted until about 10 pm, which was too late for a few drinks after work, but too early to be a real night out. An awkward time to go—but then he felt awkward.
“If her lipstick’s all smeared, you’ll know it really was Girls’ Night Out,” Ray said as he was saying his goodbyes.
Merely the thought of that made Hugo tingle a little inside, though he made every effort to laugh it off as though he knew it was simply a joke.
Actually, when he got home, the waiting wasn’t quite so bad as it had been at the hotel. He had the faint idea that Madeleine wouldn’t actually do anything significant if they hadn’t talked about the possibility first. This might be Girls’ Night Out, and she might be tempted to go a little wild—but kissing was okay, even some touching Hugo could deal with.
By midnight, he took a decision not to fret. At that point, he was assuming they’d all gone dancing, and even pictured in his head the kind of dancing she’d enjoyed with Dan and Ryan.
He even felt that he wanted that for her. As long as Lucy was with her, and she was safe, he was happy as long as she had a good time—and preferably told him about it afterwards, though of course the whole concept of Girls’ Night Out had a certain What-Happens-In-Vegas-Stays-In-Vegas vibe.
So shortly into the small hours, Hugo went to bed, and somehow managed to get to sleep.
He woke to the bang of the front door and the sound of girlish giggling.
Madeleine and Lucy had come back to the apartment together. Hugo leaned over to squint his eyes at the alarm clock in the gloom. Three o’clock in the morning. Well, it had been some Girls’ Night Out for them. From the sound of the laughing out there in the living room, the two of them were both fairly drunk. No doubt they’d decided it would be better if Lucy crashed, rather than go home to Brooklyn in such a state on her own.
Hugo actually felt relieved that Madeleine had come home with Lucy—it meant she hadn’t gone to some guy’s place.
It seemed to be taking an age to get Lucy settled on the sofa, assuming that was where she was going to sleep. What were they saying to each other?
“Well you’re single,” he heard Madeleine telling Lucy.
“I’m single—and you’ve got a husband who fantasizes about you dating other guys. So where’s the problem?”
“Come on—they were total sleaze-bags!” Madeleine was laughing. It didn’t sound as though she was settling down for the night.
Hugo heard the bang of kitchen cupboards, and then the clink of glasses. They were still drinking, it seemed.
“I guess. That one with the earring in the top of his ear did have a big cock though—I could feel it when he was dancing with me.”
“Me too,” Madeleine said. Hugo felt the warmth of arousal spreading through his body as he heard Madeleine and Lucy talking about the guys they’d been flirting and dancing with all evening.
“And that didn’t tempt you?” Lucy asked.
“It didn’t tempt you, either.”
“I have a perfectly good vibrator that doesn’t use too much cologne,” Lucy said, laughing.
“And I have a perfectly good husband that—“
“That wants you to have sex with another guy! And you won’t!”
Lucy’s outburst startled Hugo. What was she talking about? Madeleine had had sex with another guy—hadn’t she?
“I will,” Madeleine was saying now, not denying anything Lucy was saying. “I just need to do it at my own pace.”
Hugo’s head started whirling around, as though it had been him drinking all night, rather than the women out in the living room. So she’d faked her hotel rendezvous—how had she managed it? He supposed it hadn’t been difficult—a splash of male cologne here, a strategic use of a condom there. She’d fooled her husband completely—but he saw now that a lot of it had been taken on trust.
Did this break his trust in her? She had lied to him.
“Don’t you think it’s time to stop trying to understand why your husband’s into this, and just go out there and enjoy it?” Lucy was saying now.
“I just needed to make sure,” Madeleine replied. “I had to make him really believe it happened. I needed to see how he would feel about it after a little while, you know? Once he’d had time to really think about it.”
“And he’s okay about it, right?”
“I’ll say. He can’t get enough of me—every night this week.”
“Every night? Jesus. And you are married, right? You didn’t fake that whole thing too? God.”
Madeleine was laughing, and Hugo felt any disappointment or resentment simply melt away as he heard that. Wasn’t her happiness the only thing that was important in this? It was at the core of his fantasy. If she wasn’t completely ready for this, he didn’t want to go ahead with it, either.
“Are you gonna tell him? That it was all staged.”
“I should,” Madeleine said, then giggled. “But it’s tempting not to—seriously: the sex has been epic this week.”
“Okay, if you tell him, then the next time you do this, you better go through with it. You fake it again, he’ll assume you always will.”
“I know that. I think I’m ready.”
“I’m ready to start dating again.”
Hugo was so hard as he heard the girls clink glasses and toast Madeleine’s resolve to actually start seeing other men. Those butterflies were back in his chest. It didn’t matter that she’d faked her night at the hotel—now she had the intention to start dating, that was all that mattered. Hugo was looking to the future, it felt as though he’d passed all his exams, and his reward was a sexy wife who was going to make full use of her sexuality on a real adventure.
“How are you gonna tell him? About the hotel.”
Hugo heard Madeleine say, “I don’t know. I guess he might be angry I didn’t tell him right away. It was kind of hot that he didn’t know, though. Hotter, I mean. It was already hot that he thought I’d actually gone to that guy’s room all night.”
“You like having secrets from him!” Lucy laughed. “Saucy wench. Only, I guess his fantasy is knowing all about the details. You never did tell him your Dark Secret, did you?”
Hugo heard the emphasis Lucy gave to the words dark secret and his ears immediately pricked up. What were they talking about? What was Madeleine’s dark secret?”
God, it made him feel a little nauseous to think what it might be—did it threaten their relationship? Surely not.
“No, but I think I have to tell him about this.”
“I doubt he’ll be angry,” Lucy said, “But he might need you to sign in blood that you will actually start dating properly.”
“Why do I get the feeling you’re so obsessed about me starting to date again, Luce?”
“Obsessed? Ha! Okay, I suppose I am. A little. It’s because you give me hope, Mads! You give married and potentially married women everywhere hope.”
“You know—hope that it doesn’t all have to end when you get married.”
“You do know Hugo’s not like most men. They don’t all want their wives to sleep with other guys.”
“I know. But there must be more where he came from. So come on—who’s it going to be?”
“Who’s it going to be?”
“The first date! You going to ask Connor out? Or one of the boys from the bookstore? Or that personal trainer of yours? Or one of your authors… there’s so much choice out there.”
Hugo felt his heart pumping. He realized he’d moved to the edge of the bed, he was listening so intently to the conversation. Who did his wife intend to sleep with?
“I don’t know. Maybe I should just do Match.com or whatever the equivalent is for adulterers,” Madeleine joked. “I’m not sure I could take dating someone I know, not at first. I’d worry I’d make a fool out of myself if it turns out I can’t handle it—or Hugo can’t handle it.”
“You are the most cautious person I know, Mads. You always were—it’s why your copy always took twice as long at the Globe.”
“You’ve got to fact-check these things properly, Luce. You nearly gave our lawyers heart attacks on a regular basis.”
“Oh, slander schmander. You’re ready. That’s the main thing.”
“I think I’m ready.”
“You think you’re ready?” Hugo could hear the exasperation in Lucy’s voice.
Madeleine laughed again, such a beautiful sound. “I’m kidding—yes, I’m ready.”
Hugo felt a jolt of white-hot heat piercing his chest—it knocked him for six. How was he so horrified that his wife wanted to start dating? Until a few minutes ago, he’d been under the impression she’d already slept with another man. But he wasn’t really horrified—or at least, wasn’t only horrified. He was seriously excited, his cock hard as marble inside his boxers.
“And I’m ready for bed,” Madeleine added.
“Are you? Jesus, I’m not. I’m hornier than a horny toad from the Horn of Africa after tonight. Aren’t you?”
“Yes, but I have a husband in the next room, remember?”
Hugo heard his wife’s retort, and hoped she was serious about being horny. He could do with a little release after hearing their conversation.
But he suddenly realized he wasn’t supposed to be perched on the edge of the bed monitoring his wife’s private discussion with her best friend. He quietly thrust himself back under the covers, where he could pretend he’d been asleep all the time.
In the darkness, lying on his back, he heard her come into the bedroom. He had a dozen questions running around his mind, but he kept his eyes closed, feigned sleep. He had to hope she wasn’t going to respect his sleep—he wanted her to wake him up.
In the still of the night, he heard the swish sounds as she removed clothing, then felt the depression of the mattress as she climbed onto the bed.
He moaned, and let out a kind of sleepy noise that a waking man might make to inquire whether someone was joining him in his bed.
“Shhh…” he heard Madeleine in the darkness, saw in the low streetlight coming in through the blinds that she was crawling up his legs, her butt in the air, hands reaching for the bed sheets.
He couldn’t help smiling as she peeled the sheet from his body. He felt her breath on his skin before anything else, along with a few strands of her silky hair as she hovered over him, apparently looking him over closely, inhaling his scent.
“Honey?” he said, affecting a sleepy voice. “You just got home?”
“Uh-huh,” she said, and almost ripped off his underwear. He loved it—she was hungry for him.
“What time is it?”
“Late,” she said, and he moaned as he felt her hot mouth engulf his rapidly swelling manhood.
She stroked his length, then curled her fingers around it, lifting it so that she could look her husband in the eyes as she licked his cock from the base to the tip. Her eyes were full of lust, her inhibitions weakened by the wine.
He shivered a little in pure bliss as she parted her lips and sank on him, her fingers coaxing his shaft as her mouth enveloped his cockhead.
“You have a good time with Lucy?” he asked her.
Mouth full, she only moaned in return, “Mmm-hmm.”
“I was worried you might have met someone,” he said.
He saw her smile around his cock. Then she was licking him, lashing him with her tongue, tasting him, so ravenous for him.
“I do have something to tell you,” she said, slipping him out of her mouth for a moment.
“Oh, yeah? Something happen?”
Hugo was wondering if she’d decided to tell him about her hotel fraud, or whether she might be about to blurt out the dark secret to which Lucy had briefly referred. Neither of them did he want to force out of her, he had decided—she would have to bring them up of her own volition.
She said, “You promise you won’t be angry with me…”
With that, she sucked him back into her mouth, as though offering him a reward if only he was calm about whatever she had to say—or perhaps suggesting that if he was going to get angry with her, he wouldn’t get any more of this.
“Of course not.”
She glanced to the side, to the windows, as though it might give her strength, though there was nothing to see with the blinds closed.
“When I told you about my evening with that guy in the W last weekend…” she said.
“It wasn’t strictly true.”
“What wasn’t strictly true?”
“Any of it.”
He paused, as though mulling over what she’d said, but also milking the suspense for all it was worth. He wasn’t going to make her truly suffer, but she needed to know the seriousness of her continual lying to him. Oh, who was he kidding, it was fun to tease her a little.
Eventually, he said, “So you never slept with anyone that night?”
“Only you. It’s only ever been you.”
“And only ever will be?”
She massaged his hardness, gazing at him with a dangerous look in her eyes. “Do you want it to be?” she asked. “Honestly, when all is said and done, would you rather I said to you I don’t need any other man, just you? Say that you’ve offered me the temptation, and I’ve decided you are far more than I’d ever need?”
“No,” he said simply, and brushed her hair gently out of her face. “I’d like to think you don’t need any other man, and you’ll only ever love me with all your heart for the rest of our lives… but…”
“But?” she kissed the tip of his cock, held it in her warm mouth, feeling it inside her.
“Even if you don’t need them, I like that you want other guys. I like the danger, the thrill of you experiencing other people—as long as you come back to me afterward. I like knowing that you’re an incredible sexual being, and I’m not in any way holding you back. But I want to share in your experiences, somehow—even if it’s not firsthand observation.”
She sank on him, moaning herself as she fucked him with her face, as though his penetration was giving her sexual pleasure.
When she came up, gasping for air, it was as though she’d been underwater for long minutes.
She said, “Are you angry with me? For making you think it really happened back there in that hotel?”
He propped himself up on his elbows. “Not at all—it was a wild night, how could I complain? I’d do it again a hundred times if you wanted to, though I wonder if I might start assuming it’s deception if it keeps happening.”
She smiled. “So I guess the next time it has to be real. Can’t be deception.”
He pulled her up from between his legs, buzzed at how hard her nipples were, how beautiful her naked curves were in the horizontal lines of the light filtered through the blind.
He pulled her down on the bed beside him, sucked her breasts into his hungry mouth, drew out a low moan from her that was almost a growl.
“You want to do it for real this time,” he said, feeling a beast growing inside him, a Mr. Hyde to his normal Dr. Jekyll.
“I don’t just want to go out and sleep with someone random,” she said as he spread his hands all over her smooth body stretched out before him, in awe at her feminine form.
She was smiling in the gloom as he manhandled her, turning her onto her front, brushing his face over the sweet contours of her behind, and somehow her joy at his unbridled lust for her brightened the whole room.
She pushed her behind up, spreading her knees, urging him to have her beautifully wet pussy, which glistened in the faint streetlight.
“I want to find someone special,” she said. “Maybe go on a few dates, find out if he’s worth being the man I break my wedding vows for.”
Hugo couldn’t resist her offer, pushing himself between her thighs, burying his face in her tender folds, tasting her tangy juices, sucking her hot pussy lips into his eager mouth.
“I’d like that,” he said. “Whoever he is, he has to be worthy of you.”
She was smiling, slightly tipsy, but not merely from the alcohol, it seemed. She was drunk in the whole idea of being given free rein by her beloved husband to go out and start dating—and find some gorgeous hunk to fuck her senseless before returning home to her Hugo.
“We’re really doing this?” she asked him, in disbelief despite the long process of preparing for this step.
“We’re really doing this.”
She bit her lip, forcing her head down into the bedclothes as he lapped at her delicious nectar, his hand seeming to support her body by her mound as he massaged her clit while feasting on her.
“Tell me,” she said as he now reached under her hips, clasped hold of her waist with both hands to force her pussy hard against his mouth. “Tell me what you want most of all.”
He said, “What I want most of all?”
Then he was kneeling up behind her, pushing her knees even further apart, guiding his massively hard cock to her tight pussy, and thrust forward, forcing an ecstatic cry from her as he penetrated her.
“What I want,” he said, “is to see you have an affair.”