know I love you, sweetie?
> I know. And you know I love you, nothing will change that, ever. I just want you to have some fun tonight. Maybe you’ll come away with a friend with benefits, maybe not.
> I still think you’re crazy. But I can’t help but love it ;-)
Hugo chuckled. Then suddenly, she sent another text:
> He’s here. Lv u
Just a quick text, urgent, no time for more. Hugo felt a powerful jolt of energy swamp his chest for a moment. It was now a familiar feeling—but its power did not diminish.
Madeleine was on a date.
*
The waiting during the date felt familiar too, though that only made it feel a little easier. He knew what to expect at least. Madeleine had taken him on a wild ride to get to this point, but he felt hugely grateful to her that she’d explored this fantasy so methodically.
He watched TV for a while, but found his thoughts veering off almost immediately after he started. He ordered a pizza, poured himself a beer. The beer made him feel a little better, the pizza did not.
It was very difficult to settle down when your beloved wife was out at a restaurant with another guy, working out whether she wanted to fuck him.
After an hour, he was finding little ways to distract his attention—streaming a new TV show from Netflix forced him to concentrate in order to get into the new characters, for example. He got his laptop out to surf the net, replying to a few emails, tapping out a little work stuff, even taking a look at some vacation ideas for the next summer.
It didn’t stop his mind flicking back to the evening’s events, though. Imagining them in the restaurant, gazing into each other’s eyes, Madeleine’s date, Will, staring down her top at her cleavage. Madeleine getting up to go to the restroom, showing him those stunning legs of hers.
Madeleine sitting there flirting with her date with her pussy all shaved and ready for him.
Ten o’clock swung by. It wasn’t late for an evening, but Hugo was painfully aware that his beautiful wife had now spent nearly five hours on her date. A fortieth glance at the clock confirmed the time once again, but he could only groan. Well, he could hardly expect her to keep him updated all the way through the date.
He did regret not being able to watch it, though. To see the light in Madeleine’s eyes as she flirted with him. The thrill in her face that she was being desired by this man in front of her, appreciated for her charms and her good looks by someone who wasn’t obligated by marriage to offer her complements.
Five hours—they had to be finished with dinner by now. If you weren’t rushing dinner, it could go on two, maybe three hours. Not five. Were they at a bar, Madeleine taking a little Dutch courage so that she might do more than just flirt with him?
At half past ten, Hugo’s phone rang. He dived for it.
“Hey, Hugo!”
Lucy.
For a second—just a second—Hugo felt frustrated that it wasn’t Madeleine on the line. He even felt a little irritated—that Lucy had chosen to call at this moment, that she was perhaps checking up on them, and what they were doing.
“Hey Luce. She’s not here right now, you want me to pass on a message?”
“Oh no, I wanted to speak with you, actually.”
Suddenly, all feelings of annoyance melted away. God, he needed someone to talk to.
“How can I help?” he said.
“Actually, I think it’s supposed to be me helping you.”
“Helping me? I don’t think anyone can help me,” Hugo chuckled, sitting down in the window seat now, gazing out of the blind as he spoke to Lucy.
“How are you feeling?” she said. “Really.”
“Really? Well, it’s strange. Knowing that she’s out there somewhere, having fun with a guy she might sleep with.”
“Must be beyond weird. I can’t say I really understand why you want her to do it—I’m not saying I don’t love the concept, from a woman’s point of view but… well. You’ll have to explain it sometime.”
“It’s
> I know. And you know I love you, nothing will change that, ever. I just want you to have some fun tonight. Maybe you’ll come away with a friend with benefits, maybe not.
> I still think you’re crazy. But I can’t help but love it ;-)
Hugo chuckled. Then suddenly, she sent another text:
> He’s here. Lv u
Just a quick text, urgent, no time for more. Hugo felt a powerful jolt of energy swamp his chest for a moment. It was now a familiar feeling—but its power did not diminish.
Madeleine was on a date.
*
The waiting during the date felt familiar too, though that only made it feel a little easier. He knew what to expect at least. Madeleine had taken him on a wild ride to get to this point, but he felt hugely grateful to her that she’d explored this fantasy so methodically.
He watched TV for a while, but found his thoughts veering off almost immediately after he started. He ordered a pizza, poured himself a beer. The beer made him feel a little better, the pizza did not.
It was very difficult to settle down when your beloved wife was out at a restaurant with another guy, working out whether she wanted to fuck him.
After an hour, he was finding little ways to distract his attention—streaming a new TV show from Netflix forced him to concentrate in order to get into the new characters, for example. He got his laptop out to surf the net, replying to a few emails, tapping out a little work stuff, even taking a look at some vacation ideas for the next summer.
It didn’t stop his mind flicking back to the evening’s events, though. Imagining them in the restaurant, gazing into each other’s eyes, Madeleine’s date, Will, staring down her top at her cleavage. Madeleine getting up to go to the restroom, showing him those stunning legs of hers.
Madeleine sitting there flirting with her date with her pussy all shaved and ready for him.
Ten o’clock swung by. It wasn’t late for an evening, but Hugo was painfully aware that his beautiful wife had now spent nearly five hours on her date. A fortieth glance at the clock confirmed the time once again, but he could only groan. Well, he could hardly expect her to keep him updated all the way through the date.
He did regret not being able to watch it, though. To see the light in Madeleine’s eyes as she flirted with him. The thrill in her face that she was being desired by this man in front of her, appreciated for her charms and her good looks by someone who wasn’t obligated by marriage to offer her complements.
Five hours—they had to be finished with dinner by now. If you weren’t rushing dinner, it could go on two, maybe three hours. Not five. Were they at a bar, Madeleine taking a little Dutch courage so that she might do more than just flirt with him?
At half past ten, Hugo’s phone rang. He dived for it.
“Hey, Hugo!”
Lucy.
For a second—just a second—Hugo felt frustrated that it wasn’t Madeleine on the line. He even felt a little irritated—that Lucy had chosen to call at this moment, that she was perhaps checking up on them, and what they were doing.
“Hey Luce. She’s not here right now, you want me to pass on a message?”
“Oh no, I wanted to speak with you, actually.”
Suddenly, all feelings of annoyance melted away. God, he needed someone to talk to.
“How can I help?” he said.
“Actually, I think it’s supposed to be me helping you.”
“Helping me? I don’t think anyone can help me,” Hugo chuckled, sitting down in the window seat now, gazing out of the blind as he spoke to Lucy.
“How are you feeling?” she said. “Really.”
“Really? Well, it’s strange. Knowing that she’s out there somewhere, having fun with a guy she might sleep with.”
“Must be beyond weird. I can’t say I really understand why you want her to do it—I’m not saying I don’t love the concept, from a woman’s point of view but… well. You’ll have to explain it sometime.”
“It’s
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