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Midnight Call 1

I woke up from a deep sleep hearing the sound of a quiet voice. My wife, Rachael, was not in bed. I realized it was her voice. She was on the phone in the next room. Her young lover had apparently called again. It was just after midnight.

As I became more aware, I overheard her say that it was nearly 1 am and she could not come over. "Besides, my husband is home tonight. I can't. And my daughters are sound asleep. Absolutely not…"

I quickly became aroused. My cock sprang to attention. I imagined her going to her lover, making love to him, returning to our bed later that morning, her pussy used and wet with his cum. While not a regular occurrence, yet, it had happened before. I quickly realized that I wanted it to happen again, tonight.

Rachael was now in her forties and hotter than ever. Her long brown hair, slim figure, heart-shaped ass, milk-white skin and perfect breasts were a dream come true for most men. But more than her natural beauty was her insatiable desire to flirt with just about any man that showed her the least bit of attention. Her latest lover, Todd, perhaps 25 years old, was no exception.

Not wanting the moment to pass, I got out of bed and went into the other room. The lights were off and it was dark, but I could make out Rachael on her cell phone sitting on a chair near the window. “No,” she was repeating. “I can’t. Not tonight.” As I approached her, I undid my shorts and exposed my now rock hard cock. I masturbated lightly as I stood before her. “I want you to go,” I said.

She reached out and grabbed my cock and said on the phone: “You two! OK…I guess I’ll see you in a few minutes.” I almost came right there, but pulled away as she got up to get ready.

“I’ll take care of the kids if they wake up,” I told her. “You go and enjoy yourself. I’ll be waiting for you to return.”

Rachael wasted no time. She undressed out of her pajamas into jeans, sneakers and one of my plaid flannel shirts, which she buttoned low to her cleavage and tied the bottom tails at her waist. She wore no panties or bra. “They would be a waste of time, if you know what I mean,” she explained, smiling, as she headed out our bedroom and down the stairs quietly.

No make-up. No perfume. No heels. No underwear. No jewelry. Not her usual hotwife attire by a far stretch, but after the midnight call from her lover, it sent the right just-fuck-me statement. She looked sexy as ever.

“I’ll call you when I get to his apartment,” she whispered at the door and kissed me goodbye. “I should not be too long…he’s young!”

“I’ll be waiting,” I said, my heart racing a mile a minute.

(More to come...)

End of Story