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From: Alex Taylor Douglas <atd@anon.nymserver.com>
Subject: The Betrayal, Part III
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THE BETRAYAL by Alex Taylor Douglas

PART III

   Orchestrating the little performance in the pub gave me some inside
knowledge of how Machiavelli must have felt. It gives one a unique feeling to
see others reacting to situations you've created, especially when they have no
idea you're the puppetmaster.
   Pulling Eric's strings was easy - the man lives for sex. As soon as he
could justify fucking my wife in his own mind he was off to the races. Deb was
a little more challenging. I had to be a LOT more subtle than I was with Eric.
I see I was also right on the money about the attraction she felt toward Eric
although it was considerably stronger than I had believed. I witnessed the
little massage episode in the kitchen and while I believe she believes her
gesture was rooted in innocence, I also believe she was acting on a
subconscious desire. Hell, why not? Eric's a great looking guy - if I were a
chick *I'd* fuck him.
   This may sound stupid; I looked at her panties in the laundry the evening
of the massage, and also the next evening. Cunt-juice galore. From the way she
acted in the kitchen after Eric left I wasn't surprised about the first night,
but her panties the second night were still soaked from the amount of wetness
in the afternoon. I see that she masturbated with her panties still on that
day so that explains the moisture. Still, I was right, but for the wrong
reason.
   The evening of the practice was a masterstroke. I knew Deb would find the
pub cool after the heat of the early evening, especially wearing what she was.
Eric and I entered ahead of some of the ladies, including Deb, and I pulled
him aside.
   "Hey bud, it's kind of chilly in here. Do have a sweatshirt or something
Deb can put on?" I knew he did - I saw the shirt on the front seat of his
Talon. "Make sure she really wants it before going to the trouble." I saw her
coming in, her nipples standing proud in the air conditioning, and gave her my
"dirty" smile (she hates it). She turned away and would have ran right into
Eric's chest had he not stopped her. I also see her little gasp as he touches
her. Perfect. She nods. Eric leaves and she sits down. I know what effect his
shirt will have on her - and not just because I know she likes his cologne.
Eric is the one looking out for her comfort and not her husband, like he
should be. Yes Alex, you slimy bastard, work that old subconscious.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

   The warm evening air was a blessing to my cold legs. We climbed into the
car which was by now about 15 degrees warmer than the outside air, and I was
able to take off the sweatshirt Eric had lent me. I tried to relax as we began
the drive down the freeway towards home but I kept feeling the touch of Eric's
fingertips on my thigh, as if his hand was still there. Having a really wet
pussy for a long time can get extremely uncomfortable, I discovered. I could
hardly wait to get home and into a tub, under a nice strong stream of water. I
briefly consider throwing myself at my husband again but decided against it.
What I *didn't* need right now was to be rejected again.
   I went to bed naked that night, the cool linen of the sheets a welcome
contrast to the heat of orgasm that was still with me. I should have been
tired, but I couldn't sleep. I knew I was going to have to avoid Eric, at
least until Alex started making love to me again. I made the decison to come
up with some good excuses for not going to the next couple of ball games, but
I had to think fairly fast because there was a game scheduled for the next
evening. I had the next day off so I planned to spend the day around the house
by myself, unwinding and attempting to forget my turmoil. I also pledged to
myself to approach Alex in a mature, non-threatening way to try and discover
the root of his lack of interest. (Alex's Note:  Interesting choice of words,
don't you think?). I fell asleep sure I could work my way out of this with my
fidelity and my husband intact.
   As forecast, the next morning was warm and sunny. I got up around 10
o'clock and had half a melon and a glass of juice for breakfast. I hadn't done
any serious tanning for about a week and a half and wasn't about to waste this
opportunity, being all by myself all day long. Alex claims that summer in this
part of the world is just two weeks of bad skiing, and while that's a bit of
an exageration there are little enough really hot days that I feel guilty if I
miss one.
   After breakfast I went upstairs and pulled out the bikini I wear when I tan
at home. I bought it during our honeymoon in Rio de Janiero and though it
seemed like a good idea at the time it turned out to be otherwise. It's not
that it's really tiny, although it's probably small by most standards. It was
nothing compared to the scraps of cloth the girls on Copacabana and Ipanema
were wearing. The problem is the colour. It's a light dusty rose that turns
transluscent when wet, much to my shock the first time I walked out of the
surf in Rio. It didn't matter much there because I didn't know anyone on the
beach besides Alex but I'd never wear it in public here at home. It became my
sun-tanning-at-home suit.
   The back of our house faces south-west. Alex put in a deck a year after we
bought it, and at my request last year he put up a five-foot railing almost
all the way around it. I love to tan out there but don't like the idea of
being watched in the process. Now it's impossible to spy on me unless it's
from a helicopter. I get a little nervous sometimes because the meter-readers
occasionally come into the back yard to do what ever it is they do, and it
happened once while I was tanning during a day off. I was terrified he would
come around to the stairs next to the house and glance up onto the deck, but
thankfully he didn't.
   Anyway, I put on the suit, put on a visor to keep the sun, hair  and sweat
out of my eyes, grabbed the spray bottle and baby oil and headed out onto the
deck. What a perfect day it was. Everyone was at work besides me and the
neighborhood was so quiet. I laid down on the lounger and let the warm sun
wash over my body. I let out a long sigh as I relaxed, letting the tension
drain out of me.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

   I want to take a minute to describe this bikini. Deb actually bought it at
my insistance. I would have liked her to buy something smaller but I knew she
never would - the fact that it disappears when it's wet was an unexpected
bonus. It's kind of pink (OK, dusty rose). The back of the bottoms is about 10
cm across at the waist and the front is about 7.5 cm across at the waist. She
definitely has to trim her pubic hair before wearing it. The waistband is
basically just a string. The top is basically just three strings - one to go
around her chest under her tits and two to go over her tits and tie at the
back of the neck. The pieces of cloth covering her breasts are about 7.5 cm at
the bottom and are shaped like a slightly stretched triangle. There's
definitely no real support there - she has to tie it real tight to keep it in
place which makes her tits bulge out a bit at the sides. That looks *really*
nice, trust me. It's just enough to keep her nipples from getting sunburned,
which is something *I've* never worried about but I guess it's important to
some women. Very sexy bathing suit, especially when wet.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

   After about an hour I went inside to get a drink of water, a snack, and a
paperback. I paused, and then decided to open the bottle of wine that was
chilling in the fridge. My crystal wine goblets are so small that I always use
the water goblets from the same set for wine, so I grabbed one, filled it to
the brim, and went back outside. I inclined the back of the lounger a bit more
and settled in to read about the new adventures of Scarlett O'Hara. A few
minutes later the cordless phone rang. It was Alex, calling from his car.
   "Hi hon. What's up?" I told him what I was doing and he chuckled.
   "Sounds nice. I wish I could join you."
   "What's up with you?" I asked.
   "I have to go out to a building site to sort out some kind of problem and I
won't be back in time for supper. I'm on my way home now to grab lunch before
heading out, OK?" I told him fine, I'd see him in fifteen minutes, and hung
up. I then headed back in to grab another glass of wine and to use the
washroom. I looked at mmyself in the mirror, and for the first time in a long
time really liked what I saw. Yes, I thought, no doubt affected by the wine
already, not bad at all. I went back outside.
   I don't know how it started, but I found myself thinking about Eric again.
I think it must have been the combination of the hot sun making my skin
tingle, the cool spray of the mist bottle, and the wine. It was different this
time, though. I felt no guilt about thinking about Eric or about my torment
during the past week. After all, don't all women have fantasies? I felt better
about the whole thing this morning. As much as I may have wanted it, nothing
had become of it, and now I was going to make an effort to stay away from Eric
and revitalize my marriage. As the combination of wine, sun, and fantasy
worked on me I began to get that feeling in the pit of my stomach again and
gradually another wetness began to mix with the sweat and spray around my
crotch. I began to wonder if maybe, just maybe if Alex saw me like this he'd
break down and do to me what I've been wanting him to do for a long time.
   A couple of minutes later I heard Alex's car door slam. Right on, I
thought, and placed my legs on the deck on either side of the lounger to open
my thighs a bit. I heard his steps come around the side of the house and climb
the steps to the deck. I closed my eyes.
   "Hey lover," I said, "how about coming over and rubbing some baby oil onto
those hard-to-reach spots?"
   I heard him clear his throat and I looked up, over my sunglasses. It wasn't
Alex standing there at all, it was Eric.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

   This really is classic. You have to admit, I did this pretty well. At
around 11:00 that morning I called Eric at work to give him the same story I
gave to Deb, that I was going out of town for the rest of the day, blah blah
blah. I told him that I wasn't going to be able to make the ball game that
night so he was going to have to go over to my house at lunchtime to grab the
gear for the team (I keep all of the bats, balls, bases, etc.). I told him to
go straight around to the deck because that would be where Deb was, and if she
was wearing her Walkman headphones she wouldn't hear the doorbell. He quickly
agreed, and I hung up laughing. I had to wait a couple of minutes before
calling Deb so I could get over my giggles. This was so easy. After a few
minutes I called Deb - you already know how that call went - and then it was a
simple matter of waiting in the parking lot of the local arena until Eric's
car drove by. I waited for a few extra minutes, and then made my second call
to Deb.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was mortified. There I was, wet from sweat and water spray, lying exposed
under Eric's gaze. I might as well have been naked for all the good the
bathing suit did. I quickly snapped my knees together and sat up in one motion
and looked around for something to cover up with, to no avail. I slowly looked
back at him, standing there in his khaki shorts and t-shirt. My eyes were just
the right height to notice a rapidly growing bulge in his khakis.
   "Eric!" I exclaimed. "You startled me! I'm expecting Alex home any minute."
   "Yeah, I know," he said. He called me to come by and grab the gear for the
game tonight. I expected to meet him here." He paused. "I didn't mean to
startle you."
   "No problem," I said, remembering my rather intense fantasy of a few
minutes before and flushing.
   He looked at my near-empty glass of wine. "You mind if I grab some of that
while I'm waiting?" he asked.
   I hesitated slightly before standing up. 'What the hell', I thought. 'He's
already seen it'. I walked past him into the kitchen, his eyes following me
all the time. This would have been the perfect opportunity to grab my cover-
up, but for some reason I decided not to. I grabbed a new glass and the bottle
of wine from the fridge and walked back out, walking with a bit more sway to
my hips then I usually do. I had just finished filling both glasses when the
phone rang. Alex again.
   "Hi hon. Listen, I had to run back to the office for some blueprints so I'm
not going to have a chance to come home before heading out."
   "OK", I said. "See you later."
   "Eric is supposed to be coming over to grab the baseball equipment. Is he
there yet?"
   "No," I lied, although don't ask me why I did.
   "When he comes, tell him sorry I couldn't be there and give him the gear.
It's in the shed, OK?"
   "OK," I replied. "Bye." I hung up.
   "Alex isn't going to make it," I told Eric.
   "That's OK, I've got lots of time. I'll just sit back and enjoy this wine
for a bit. Do you mind?"
   I wanted him to stay, but I knew he should go. I had to make at least a
gratuitous attempt to coax him to leave.
   "The gear's in the shed. Alex said to apologize for not being here. I'd
give you a hand, but..." I made a gesture at my attire.
   "Yeah, I noticed." He definitely had a smoldering look now. Oh God, I think
I'm in trouble.
   "That's the last of the wine, too."
   "I feel like I'm being given a hint", he said.
   "Well, no sense wasting valuable tan time", I said.
   "Speaking of which, do you still need oil on those hard to reach places?
Seems to me I owe you one." I did, but I wasn't sure if I should let him do
it. I remembered the feel of his hands the night before.
   I hesitated, took a deep breath, and then said "Sure. Just be careful you
don't get it all over the strings of my bathing suit."
   He picked up the bottle of oil and moved over behind me. I sat forward on
the lounger so he could sit on it behind me, and prepared myself for the touch
of his hands. I jumped when he touched me.
   "Jesus, your hands are cold!" Nice cover, I thought.
   "Sorry," he said. "Must be from holding on to the wine glass." I didn't
fool him; he knew why I had jumped.
   His hands *were* cooler than my skin and my nipples once more came to life.
Good thing he couldn't see them this time. Slowly he rubbed the oil over my
back, but after a few moments he made an exasperated sound.
   "Look," he said. "I'm having a real problem keeping this stuff away from
these strings for your suit. Do you mind if I untie the one that goes around
your back? Just make sure you hold the front in place 'til I'm done."
   "Sure, go ahead," I heard my mouth say before my brain could react. I felt
him pull the tie loose and the pressure on my breasts relaxed. I was holding
my almost-empty wine glass in one hand and holding my bathing suit top sort of
in place with my other hand and forearm while he rubbed his hands up and down
my now-naked back. I was sure the sides of my breasts were exposed.
   "This is working much better. Do you want me to rub for a while? After all,
remember that I do owe you one."
   "Mmmmmmm," I murmured, not trusting my voice.
   "I'll take that as a yes."
   He continued to rub up and down, and occasionally his hands worked their
way over my ribcage and rub up and down my sides. It felt wonderful. I was
terrified but I couldn't bring myself to stop him. Finally his hands began to
make incidental contact with the sides of my breasts, and soon the sides of my
breasts were getting as much attention as the rest of my back. I began to
fantasize that other parts of my body were getting similar attention.
   I honestly can't say if if I let my hand drop away from the front of my
suit or he moved his hand under mine. Maybe it was a simultaneous motion.
However it happened, Eric quickly had my oil-covered breasts in his hands and
were giving them a lot of attention. When he pulled me back towards him I
didn't resist - I couldn't resist. All resistance had melted away with his
hands. I couldn't stop myself. My breasts ached and my nipples were on fire.
My wet pussy tingled and tickled, as if an orgasm was already growing. He
pulled my top over my head and threw it on the deck, and I turned to kiss him.
I moaned as his tongue probed my mouth and his hand ran over my breasts,
catching my nipples between his fingers and gently rolling and pinching them.
The heat between my legs began to work it's way up my navel. He half turned
and lowered me down so the back of my head was resting on his thigh and
lowered his mouth to my nipple while his hand worked my other breast. My
breath was coming in short moans and gasps and my hips began to involuntarily
gyrate. In ever-expanding circles his hand moved down my belly until they
touched the cloth of my bikini bottom. I moaned in anticipation but the next
contact was with my thigh, drawing it up towards him, opening my legs. The
other leg followed of it's own volition. Then, only then, did he brush my
swollen cunt with his hand, fanning the flames. Another touch followed, and
another, until he was gently massaging. I sobbed as waves of pleasure radiated
through my body, waiting for the ultimate release. He pulled aside the scrap
of cloth covering my pussy exposing my most private parts to him for the first
time, and he ran a finger up my wet slit.
   "My God," he breathed, "you're so beautiful." He leaned over slightly so
one hand could manipulate my clit while he slipped one, and then two fingers
into my cunt. The volcano in my guts suddenly exploded with ferocity and I
cried out as my body finally released itself. I grabbed his wrist with both
hands and held tightly onto it as my hips bucked and rocked, wildly shoving my
pussy against his hand over and over until I thought I would pass out. After
what seemed hours the waves receeded enough to at least allow me to breathe.
Eric lowered his mouth to mine to kiss me gently and passionately, gently
massaging my breasts with hands covered by my slick wetness. For some reason
the idea of that re-ignited the fire pit in my belly.
   "Your turn," I whispered from the back of my throat as I turned over. He
lifted slightly to allow me to pull down his khakis exposing his magnificent
cock. It was red and *hard*, long shaft curving slightly up toward his belly-
button capped with a swollen purple head. It was the most beautiful thing I
had ever seen and I lowered my mouth to it almost reverently, tasting the tip
and running my tongue down the length of it and back up. He moaned softly the
first time I enclosed it with my mouth and lowered my head until the tip
tickled the back of my throat. I was genuinely sorry I had never learned to
deep throat, but I had never had the desire before this.
   He smelled wonderful, his cologne mixing with the smell of his cock and the
faint odor of his persperation. I tightened my mouth around his shaft and
began to fuck him with my mouth, causing his moans to come more frequently.
I've never thought I was that good at giving head, but I guess Eric liked it
well enough.
   I was lying on my stomach with one arm around Eric's back and the other on
his thigh. Most of my weight was on my elbow and my hip, my legs together and
bent a little. The effect of this was to cause my bum to stick out a little,
and Eric's hand soon worked it's way down to again find the slick wetness
behind and between my legs. I gave a couple of moans myself and opened my
knees slightly to give him better access. A few more minutes of sucking on his
cock, and then he gently lifted my head off his lap and moved around to
position himself behind me. His wonderful cock glistened, but probably no more
than my cunt. He stood astride my calves and bent over to slide off my bathing
suit bottoms, but I stopped him as he began to slide them over my ass.
   "No, wait," I gasped. "Not here. Inside..." He slipped his khakis back on
and ran into the bathroom to grab me a towel to wrap around myself so I could
stand up. I led him into the house and downstairs to the hot tub, which wasn't
really that hot in the middle of the summer. Still, it was bathwater-warm, and
we quickly dropped whatever clothes we were wearing and got in.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
End Of Part III

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