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Trudy stepped out of the steamy bathroom to dry. I was only half awake but the sight of her nude body perked me up. I hadn’t seen her undressed for some time. She hadn’t washed her hair; long, brown and wavy, it fell stylishly down to her breasts. Trudy was thin. She had square shoulders, slim waist, feminine hips and a delightful gap between her gorgeous thighs. She had modeled for online lingerie back in college.
“You are still a fine looking nude,” I said wistfully.
Trudy put the towel back in the bathroom and rifled through her underwear drawer.
“It will happen again baby, I promise,” she said, knowing what was on my mind. After coming back from maternity, Trudy had been absorbed in her work. Credit to them for promoting a pregnant lady, but it was a tough time for her. Work, baby, getting back in shape. Two things had gone by the wayside, breastfeeding and sex. I felt for her, I know she wanted to do both – but I felt for me, too. It’s hard being married to a siren and no Longer touching.
“Wear one of the small ones, then,” I said sleepily. “The set you wore in New York.”
“Come on. You won’t even be there to see it.”
“I’ll know though. It will give me hope.”
With a sigh, Trudy stepped into the tiny lace underwear.
“Turn around?” I asked. I reached for my phone to take a photo of her stunning bass.
“Hey!” she frowned.
“Unbelievable ass you have,” I pined. “I miss it.”
“Be patient baby.”
I took a photo of her front, her breasts standing firm like they always had. She didn’t need a bra, but she was self-conscious of her nipples; they easily went hard in the slightest of air-con.
“Enough,” she said, pulling on the matching tiny bra, then pants, shirt and jacket, flicking her hair out from the collar. A quick kiss goodbye and she whisked off to the 6am bus to the airport. Training course in Singapore; half-day Wednesday afternoon, then dinner, then half-day Thursday morning. One night away. Again. I was used to it.
—–
I dropped little George off at Trudy’s mom’s before work. Grandma had been a darling for a long time, allowing both of us to work by taking care of him during the day.
“He’s my grandson,” she said each time I thanked her, “He could come here to live with me if you’d let him.”
“He virtually does.”
Ten hours a day, five days a week, it really was his second home.
I worked in a small serviced office. My job was remote, I could do it from anywhere, but I didn’t like to do it from home. I wanted a separation. Every Wednesday was a challenge for me, though. Stella Smith. Once a week she came in from her mobile sales role with a partner company to do her paperwork. Blonde, petite, sexy as hell. Lithe would be a good way to describe her. Years ago, when I was still engaged, we had a one-night stand. We worked at the same company back then. We had a conference in Kuala Lumpur. Group dinner, group drinks, kissing in the corner, blowjob in the cab, then a night of crazy wet sex in her room. We didn’t get out of bed until lunch. Stella was wickedly dirty. Loud. Insatiable. She craved penetration. Her breasts were outrageously sensitive. It was the most tiring night of my life. Every time I saw her my memory went back to her spread-eagled on the bed with her tiny blonde muff begging to put something in her. Anything. Everything.
Time had not changed her. She was still gorgeous; she was still insatiable. Both of us had married since that night, but it didn’t make any difference to Stella. I was entirely enamored by my wife, Stella was entirely indifferent to her husband. With a messy relationship at home, she seemed determined to mess up those around her.
Mine was a private office for two; she literally sat across from me. On an almost weekly basis, depending on how things were at home for her, she undid her shirt as she worked. Bra-less, her breasts were right there bobbing away as she typed. It had happened a number of times, I couldn’t get her to stop it, all I could do was try and ignore her. But it was difficult. I was super horny and it was driving me crazy.
“Stella. Marriage. You know that means you shouldn’t do that right?”
“No one else is here. It’s just us,” she said, biting her lip. “I know you like them, you sucked them all night.”
I sighed. It was true. When I sucked on her tits, bruising them, it drove Stella wild. I loved it.
“Okay, fine. Leave them out. I don’t care.”
I have to say it was disruptive, though. Our space in the serviced offices was private, she could sit like that for hours without being seen by anyone but me. And they were superbly nice tits. Small, but perfectly shaped. Delightful nipples.
“Ah, what are you doing?” I asked. Stella had got up to stand, pushed up against the wall so no one could see in from the window.
“Stella, that’s not a good idea.”
“Wait. Relax. I just need your help.”
She had undone her pants, pulling them down and off. Then her panties. She stood in just her shirt. This was a first.
Her pussy looked as fine as it did back then. Given the state of my sexless marriage, I was hard as hell from the sight of her naked.
“Stella…”
“I almanbahis adres need some photos taken. Can you help me?”
“Photos?”
“Photos.”
“For what?”
“Does it matter? I need some nude photos. Will you help?”
“No way I’m doing that on my phone.” That would be asking for trouble.
“Use mine!” she laughed. “I need the photos. It’s not for you! Here.”
Stella walked to her bag to get it. Holy shit she looked fine moving around like that.
When she passed me her phone, she put her hand on my arm intimately. I glanced at the glass by the door, no one was there.
“What photos? Quick. Before someone comes.”
“Like you?” she teased, gripping my hard-on through my pants.
“Marriage,” I said, trying to be strong, to resist. “Both of us.”
Stella stepped back to the wall, standing straight with her legs apart.
“Photos please.”
“What’s this for?” I asked again.
Stella didn’t answer, she nodded to get started. I took a dozen shots with different expressions and at different distances. She moved around the room to pose; including up against the windows. She bent forward at the desk, showing me her pussy. She sat on her desk with her legs spread. I took photos, but kept my distance. Every time she came my way I retreated to an empty space.
“I want a close up of my pussy,” she said, sitting on the edge of my desk, “With semen falling out from the inside. Can you help?”
I took a deep breath. I put her phone on her desk. I walked over, to where she was. Stella rolled the shirt off her shoulders. She was naked. I could smell her pussy juices; she was ready to mate. I picked up my laptop bag. I left.
I sent a message to Trudy from the car park.
‘Landed?’
‘In taxi’
‘I’m going home. Wednesday again.’
‘Already? Not even lunch time yet. same?’
‘Same’
I’d told Trudy about Stella hitting on to me most Wednesdays. I hadn’t said about the background we shared, and no way I was going to tell her how nuclear it had become, but mostly I was open with Trudy about what was happening in my life. We had a good relationship, we just had to get over this ‘busy’ hump. I wanted my wife back, all of her.
A new message came in.
‘I got a message from HQ’
‘?’
‘Client call. Tonight 2am.’
‘No way’
‘Way’
‘How you gonna do that? You have training class in morning. You’ll be too tired.’
‘I’ll try and get out of the call’
‘You should’
I went to find a Starbucks for the rest of the day with my laptop. Bloody Stella. Where was she in my college days when I spent a thousand nights wishing I had a nympho like that in my room. Why appear now when I’m married? Life was teasing me cruelly.
—–
“Trudy, I need you on that call.”
“Craig volunteered. You don’t need two of us. I’ll take notes from him after.”
“Trudy. You’re the China expert, I want you there.”
“I’ve got training in the morning. I’ve flown down for it.”
“So does he. I’ll write you both a note!”
Trudy sighed.
“I want this training. I need it.”
“I’ll give you coffee vouchers.”
“Grrr.”
There is decent free coffee in the training rooms. Vouchers were meaningless.
Craig was up from Australia. Trudy down from Hong Kong. They were both in the training.
“You heard about this call?” he asked when they were in the room before starting.
“2am!” Trudy complained.
“Stay up, or sleep then wake up?”
“Better go to sleep early and set the alarm. We have this training again in the morning.”
“There’s a group dinner.”
“I’ll leave early.”
Trudy didn’t drink or like drunks anyway. Her own tolerance for alcohol was terrible. She went red and fell asleep if she had a whole glass of wine.
“We need to prep the call,” Craig pointed out. “Straight after this class? Before dinner?”
“Try,” Trudy agreed.
—–
I picked up George and was forced to stay for dinner. I didn’t mind, vegetable noodle soup was better than toasted sandwiches. By the time we got home, he was asleep on my shoulder as I walked in the house. I took a photo of us in the mirror and sent it to mom.
‘Cute’ she replied.
‘Where are you?’
‘Team dinner. Have to do the call at 2am. Couldn’t escape’
‘Poor baby!’
‘Still haven’t prepped. Course ran late.’
‘Sleep early. Go now.’
‘Food coming slow! No dinner yet.’
‘Eat. Sleep.’
‘Yes’
—–
“Craig. Come on. Fifteen minutes. We can get it done. We can’t go on that call without at least looking at those numbers.”
“Okay, Okay,” he said. “I’ll come, I’ll come.”
They went to Trudy’s room. She had been upgraded to a suite with a dining table. They sat on one side with a laptop each.
“Shit. 10:45. I’m tired already.” Trudy had been forced to drink, she was super flushed and sleepy. It took them until 11:30 to be comfortable they had enough data to hand on their screens to answer any prickly questions.
“I need to sleep,” Trudy moaned.
“Too late,” Craig decided. “Too close already. Gotta stay up.”
“No almanbahis yeni giriş way.”
“You’ll never get up if you do.”
“I can’t stay awake.”
“Have some wine,” he suggested, waving the bottle he brought up from the dinner.
“Oh god, that will put me to sleep more.”
“Then have a coffee.”
“No, no, I’ll never get to sleep after.”
“You ever take cocaine?” Craig asked, curious.
“No!”
“Well, then, we need to do something to keep you awake…”
Craig looked through all the draws of her suite.
“What are you doing?” Trudy complained.
“Looking for a pack of cards.”
“Cards?”
“Playing cards.”
“They’re not going to have that,” she frowned.
Trudy was right. They didn’t.
“Come on. Let’s go to my room. I have Uno cards in the side of my bag.”
“Uno? That’s a kid’s game.”
“No it’s not. Come on.”
“I’m tired. I wanna sleep.”
“Cannot.”
Craig went to her seat and lifted her to her feet.
“Oh, you’re strong,” Trudy said out loud. Craig took the bottle and her hand and led her to the door, taking her card-key out and walking her down the hall to the elevator. The unexpected intimacy of having her hand held gave a little tingle in Trudy’s body. Craig was not only strong; he was fit looking.
Up six floors, along to the left, into his room. It was smaller. He only had a workbench, but had two chars, one either side.
“I’m not even sure I remember how to do this.”
“It’s not exactly hard,” he told her.
They had an open-handed practice game, then a full proper one. Trudy won legitimately. It wasn’t enough to keep her eyes from drooping.
“Still got two hours,” she moaned. “I wanna sleep.”
“Too late for that. Okay. You need something with an edge to it. Something a bit scary to keep your nerves going.”
“A horror movie?”
“No,” Craig grinned. “A game of strip.”
“Strip? Strip what?”
“Strip Uno.”
Trudy laughed.
“You’re kidding right?”
“Why not? You need it. Something to get your adrenaline going.”
“No way. I’ve never done that.”
“All the more reason, no?”
“I’m married.”
“So? What’s that to do with it? It’s a game. Mucking around. Keep you awake. You stay that side of the table; I stay over here.”
“You wouldn’t try and touch me?”
“Trudy, come on. You’re married. We’re colleagues. It is purely, entirely aimed at doing something interesting to keep us awake.”
Trudy yawned.
“Okay, Okay. But you stay over there.”
Craig agreed.
With shoes, Trudy had 6 things. With socks (his shoes were at the door), Craig had 5 things.
“That’s fair, you’re a boy,” Trudy said definitively.
“Fine.”
They started.
The plan worked. Both of their concentrations spiked. Attacks were brutal. Rules enforced unforgivingly. When Tracy won the first game, the plan seemed a good one. Undoubtedly, she was wide awake now, and two pieces of clothing in front. Some small interest in seeing Craig bare-chested was also in play.
“Where did you meet your husband?” Craig asked out of the blue while he dealt the next hand.
“Huh? At a barbecue. A birthday. Common friends.”
“In Hong Kong?”
“Yeah.”
They were playing and talking.
“He’s not Chinese, though?”
“British.”
“How’s your folks feel about mixed marriage, Chinese and a white boy?”
“It took a while. No good at first. But he’s nice to me. A good dad.”
“That’s good.”
Playing on, Trudy eventually lost, and then again. Her shoes were gone.
“What’s your situation?” she asked him.
“Huh?”
“Do you have a girlfriend? Fiancé? You’re not married, right?”
“Girlfriend.”
“What’s her name?”
“Mable.”
“What’s she like?”
“Typical Aussie girl.”
“White?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, she must be beautiful.”
Craig laughed.
“Why do you say that?” he asked.
“Oh, come on. You’re not going to have some ugly girlfriend.”
“Oh, you think so?”
“Yes.”
They played quietly for a time. Trudy lost again.
“Shit.”
“Pants or shirt?” Craig grinned.
“You stay over there,” she told him.
If Trudy had ever played strip before she would have thought to take her bra off under her shirt. But she hadn’t.
Craig went rock hard in his pants as his most beautiful Hong Kong colleague unbuttoned her shirt.
“Do I have to take it off?”
“Of course.”
Craig was clever enough to say nothing about how stunning she looked. Her bra was tiny. They were literally two of the finest looking tits he had seen. He couldn’t believe how big they could be on her small frame.
“Happy?” she asked dryly.
“Very much,” was his simple reply. “You’re awake right?”
Trudy looked at her watch. Still so long to go. When Craig kept losing to get off his own shirt, Trudy almost woo-ed. She hadn’t really seen a guy with abs like that up close.
Trudy had pants and her underwear remaining, so did Craig.
“Have you had sex with a Chinese guy?” Craig asked as he dealt.
“What kind of sex?”
“I mean all the way. Cock almanbahis in you.”
Trudy sheepishly nodded.
“Is it different?” Craig asked. “Compared to a white guy? Like your husband.”
“It was a long time ago. My boyfriend before was white too.”
“You like western cock better?”
“I think so.”
“Why?”
“Bigger,” she grinned.
“Oh yeah? You like big?”
“Of course.”
Trudy felt nicely in control when Craig lost his pants. All he had left was his boxers.
“What do we do if you lose again, huh?” Trudy smiled. “We still have too much time. Start again?”
“Dares.”
Trudy smiled, thinking what silly thing she could make him do.
‘Have you been with an Asian girl?” she asked.
“Never.”
“Never had one naked?”
“You’re the closest!”
“Shit!” Trudy swore, losing. With a big sigh, she took off her pants. “You better give me some of that wine.”
“It’s over there. By the bathroom. You want I go around, get it?”
“No, no. You stay. I’ll get it.”
Craig almost fell off his chair as he saw Trudy’s bare backside walk across the room. From behind, her underwear was non-existent, just a lacy line across her waist. He tried to keep a lid on his excitement.
“Keep calm,” he whispered to himself. It was difficult though. His boner was bursting at his underwear. Trudy was simply stunning in that tiny little lingerie set. Did she wear that all the time? Was she expecting be undressed by someone? Anyone? As a plan to keep them both awake, this was working spectacularly.
Trudy stood by the bed and drank from the bottle.
“You want some?”
“Sure.”
Oh, her breasts were nearly falling out of her bra as she leaned over to pass it.
“Thank you,” he said, truly grateful.
His mind away with the pixies, he lost the next hand comfortably.
“Off!” Trudy beamed.
Still sitting and hidden by the table, Craig let his erection break free. His pants dropped to his ankles and were left on the floor.
“Wow, that’s long!” Trudy said out loud. She could see his tip poking up above his belly button.
Craig blushed, then picked up the cards and kept dealing.
“Keep going?” Trudy frowned. “You lost.”
“We still have over an hour.”
“What happens if you lose next?”
“That’s up to you.”
And it happened. Craig lost. The game had just become uber-serious.
“What do you want me to do?”
Trudy had already thought about it.
“Run down to the elevator and press the button.”
“Are you serious? Like this?”
“Yes.”
“Trudy, really? That’s a bit…”
“If you don’t want, it’s okay. You concede. Game’s finished.”
“Finished?”
“If you don’t do it, then I win and I don’t have to take off my underwear.”
“Fine.”
Craig couldn’t stop. He couldn’t be the reason Trudy didn’t take her clothes off.
He stood and shuffled past where Trudy was sitting, watching his erection bob past. For the longest time he stood naked by the front door, thinking about what to possibly say if he got caught.
Trudy was subconsciously biting her bottom lip. Craig was good looking. His body was tight, much better than her own husband. And that erection was remarkable, she had never seen a guy that size. It stood so strongly. If he went through with this, and her pants came off…
“Craig, it’s okay. It’s better I don’t undress anyway. I’m married. Let’s just stop?”
Craig sucked a deep breath. He opened the door and walked out, naked. Sprinting, he ran flat-chat to the elevator and pressed the button. Tracy poked her head out to watch. Terrifyingly the lift door opened immediately, making Craig jump and sprint back to his room. Trudy was laughing wickedly.
“What?” he asked.
“Look at you!”
“What?”
“Your cock,” Trudy grinned. “It’s so hard.”
“What do you expect? Look at what you’re wearing.”
Craig moved around to his spot and dealt.
“Do white girls have big vaginas?” Trudy asked.
“I guess so.”
“How can you enjoy it?” she asked genuinely. “If it’s big? Guys like tight girls, right?”
“Are you tight?” Craig replied.
Trudy tried the remember the last time her husband was in her.
“I think so.”
Craig forced himself to put the image of Trudy’s insides out of his head and concentrate on the game. The downside of losing was tremendous compared to the upside of winning.
He lost.
“We can stop,” Trudy offered genuinely.
“No,” Craig said, super quickly. “What’s the dare?”
“Really? You still wanna do this game?”
“Come on. I’m ready.”
Trudy sighed.
“Who’s your best friend?”
“What?” Craig said, not expecting that question.
“Back home. Who is your best friend?”
“I don’t know. Wilson? Why?”
“Your dare is to send Wilson a nude photo of yourself.”
“Oh come on. I can’t do that. That’s not a fair dare.”
“Yes it is. And you don’t have to. I’m okay if we stop.”
Craig looked at her in her tiny underwear. If he did this, then lost again, it could keep getting worse. Was it worth it?
“Okay, take the photo,” he said, reaching for his phone.
Tracy laughed.
“You really gonna do that?”
“Come on. Hurry up.”
Craig walked over to where she was sitting. He stood right in front of her, erection in her face. As much out of curiosity as anything, Trudy reached out and gripped it. Craig gasped.
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