1.

Twelve weeks into my two-semester teaching gig in Italy, my phone rang at five AM. Half-asleep, I reached over and grabbed it from the bedside table, the ID said it was my wife. Although I answered the call with my thumb immediately, I had to groggily untangle it from the nest of cords and books and glasses…so it was a few seconds before I could get it to my ear. I could hear movement, regular rhythmic movement. 

“Hello?” More movement but no response. “Hello hello hello.” She had done this once or twice before while I was in Italy. Slipped her phone into her pocket as she went to walk the dog, then pocket-dialed me as she did. I thought I could recognize her breathing and imagined she was climbing the hill on Highland Street, our dog pulling her along faster than she wanted to go. 

“OK, honey,” I said loudly, “You’ve pocket dialed me again. This time in the middle of the night. Have a nice walk.”

I hung up the phone and settled back into my nest of pillows to try to get another hour or two of sleep.

The phone rang again. Now I really was irritated. “Hello? You really need to keep your phone in…”

Lillith’s breathless voice was in my ear. “Sorry. I couldn’t talk at first. I've got a little surprise for you. Do you remember Grant from my office?” Here she gave a little moan.

“I guess so...what’s going on?” I was sitting up in bed.

“Oh...oh...he has an amazing tongue. He’s eating me right now. I...oh that’s good...I wanted you to know. You said it was OK as long as I told you.”

We HAD talked about her taking a lover while I was gone. Or I had. She was suspicious of the idea. Imagining it was really a way to justify ME taking a lover in Italy...or something I would hold over her head if she admitted it turned her on. It turned ME on, though, a great deal. This was her way of pretending, for my sake, that she had changed her mind.

“Har-dee-har-har. I’m seriously turned on, but we need to arrange the times better so I’m ready...”

“You think I’m playing with you.” She turned her voice away from the phone. “Grant, say hello to my husband…” The phone was jostled then a man’s voice came on.

“Your wife’s pussy is so wet and it tastes so great. She sucked my cock in the car on the way here and I’m glad to return the favor.”

My heart jumped into my throat (and my cock instantly went hard). Lillith’s voice came on the line. “Do you want to hear him fuck me?”

Although there was a liquid current of jealousy and fear slithering around my stomach, the arousal was FAR more powerful. “Yes, I do. But you have to tell me everything.”

“Oh, I will.”

She described, sometimes in minute detail, how he spread her legs and thrust into her for several minutes before he pulled out. She held the phone next to her face as she noisily bobbed her head on his cock. Then, she talked me through it as she straddled him and he buried his face in her tits as he thrust from beneath her. By the time they were almost through, I was ready to explode on my end of the phone. In fact, I did.

They finished too, with much groaning and gasping. Finally, Lillith came on the phone sounding much more like her usual self. “I’m going to hang up so we can clean up and I can see Grant out,” she said, excitedly. “If you call me later, I’ll tell you how the whole thing happened.”

“And honey,” she added, “I love you more than anything and anyone in the world.”

And I knew she did.

2.

She called back later to fill me in on what had happened. Her company was far too cheap to offer a holiday party. Nevertheless, when one of her coworkers, Anne, announced she was retiring after Thanksgiving, a bunch of people from work decided to take her out for drinks. Gradually, Anne’s retirement party merged into a holiday party. Someone even set up a Secret Santa exchange. In our little town, most of the bars are for college students, so the group decided to go north a few miles to a town known for its skiing...and, of course, bars. Lillith often declined these sort of offers--some of her co-workers partied a little harder than Lillith was used to--but I had been gone more than three months (with six more to go) and I had made her promise to socialize in the long winter months to avoid depression. Since her friend Karen lived two towns South of us, she offered to pick up and drop off Lillith on the way. Lillith came home and changed out of her work clothes, excited that she would have a designated driver and could enjoy a few glasses of wine with friends. She opened a bottle at home, with dinner, and had already had a couple of glasses when Karen picked her up. 

Up here, when middle-aged people have an excuse to celebrate something in the dead of winter, they often party hard. Even so, the roads were a little slick that night and many decided to stay home. As a result, there were only 20 or so people there to congratulate Anne and exchange gifts. The Inn actually has several bars under the same sprawling roof. A sort of pub room with low ceilings and exposed beams, a restaurant bar where people can eat or wait for a table to open, and a function room with a dance floor and another bar that is sometimes closed off for weddings and such. Tonight, they were all open because the bar was crowded with skiers. So while Anne and her husband and her closest friends were ensconced in the restaurant bar, the rest of the party soon scattered into smaller groups around the facility as booths and tables opened up. 

Lillith and Karen found themselves squeezed into the back of a booth in the pub with three others from the office. Squeezed right next to Lillith was Grant. Grant wasn’t exactly new to the office--he had worked there for a couple of years--but he worked in a different department and it was only recently that they had found themselves on a committee together and gotten to know each other's names. Lillith had described him to me as about our age or a bit younger, tall, blue-eyed, with a reddish beard. She had her hand on my cock as she described him after that first committee meeting. Her eyes were very mischievous as she squeezed it. “I’m putting him on the list.”

The list was a game we had been playing for a long time. It was my fantasy to see Lillith with me AND another man. Years ago, we had started fantasizing about who the other man would be. At first, I tended to supply the names and Lillith agreed (or not). But in recent years, she was the one to suggest names more often. And whereas I had supplied names of people that we both knew, she was more likely to name people that I had never met. I loved it. I trusted her completely, but it was exciting to know that she was fantasizing about someone other than me--she seemed wilder, more unpredictable.

Before I left for Italy, I told her how much it excited me to think of her with another man. Not a relationship of any depth, mind you (that DID threaten me), but an occasional screw. A relief valve. In fact, a relief valve for both of us because I insisted that if anything ever DID happen, I had to know about it before or during. If I knew before or during, that would make me a sort of participant...and it would mean I was being consulted. If I had to hear about it later, that would mean that I was left out.

So Grant was sitting on one side and Karen on the other and across from them, two guys Lillith knew vaguely from the office. While the guys were drinking beer, Karen and Lillith were drinking wine and a lot of it. At first, the talk was safe. Some sports talk, some small talk about movies and driving in the snow. With so many people canceling out that night, only about half the people at the table had gotten a Secret Santa gift—Lillith had gotten a scented candle—and Grant was pretending to be devastated he had been left out. 

Karen, always the forward one, leaned across Lillith and smiled lasciviously at him. “Be a good boy, Grant, and Santa,” here, she elbowed Lillith, “…might slip you something under the table.” 

That seemed to change the tone. At some point in the small talk, Karen asked her  how my trip to Italy was going. Lillith pulled out her phone and passed it around to show some of the pictures I had sent. When it came around to Karen, she held onto it for longer than the others. “Your hubby is so dreamy.” Karen laughed. She leaned closer to Lillith and said quietly (though not so quiet that others couldn’t hear), “Do you guys send each other dirty pictures? Can I look?” Lillith grabbed for the phone, but Karen held it out of her reach until Jeff, one of the guys across the table, took it. 

“Lookit the way she’s acting! There must be some good stuff on here…” he started to thumb through the phone. 

Lillith was getting irritated...and afraid they really would come across some of the pictures we had sent each other. Grant quickly snatched the phone out of Jeff’s hand and gave it back to Lillith. “Leave her alone. I’m sure it’s hard enough being apart without us rubbing it in.” They all apologized and Karen ordered another bottle of wine, on her, to try to make up for it.

Lillith made light of the whole thing but looked appreciatively at Grant. After he handed her back the phone, he put one hand on her thigh under the table for a few seconds. She didn’t acknowledge it, but she became acutely aware of her knee against his. Once, she brushed his foot with his and sensed that he straightened...but did not move his foot away.

It was only when they finished the bottle that Karen had bought in apology that Lillith realized she was pretty drunk. What’s more, her designated driver was smashed. Karen was getting louder and slurring her speech more and more. Her top two buttons were unbuttoned and she was openly flirting with all three men at the table.

Grant whispered in Lillith’s ear, “Did you ride here with Karen?” She liked having his lips so close to her ear.

“Yes, but she’s hammered. What should I do?”

“How about I drive you guys home in her car, then I’ll drive it to work in the morning. You can bring her in and she can drive it home after work?”

Lillith put the plan to Karen who realized, with some apparent surprise, that she was indeed drunk. Grant didn’t know where either of them lived, exactly, so the plan was for him to drop off Lillith at our house, then drop off Karen on his way home.

Lillith and Grant had to help Karen out to the car. In that see-saw way of drunks, Karen was embarrassed and apologetic one instant (“I’m so sorry. You guys think I’m a drunk loser.”) and forward the next (“Grant, you’re divorced, I’m divorced.  We could help each other out.”) He just smiled, a little red-faced, over her head at Lillith and helped her into the front seat.

Lillith got in the back and Grant got in on the driver's side and started looking for the lever to slide the seat back. Karen slipped her seatbelt off and leaned toward him. “Here, Grant, I can show you where it is.” She leaned over and Lillith saw her head disappear into Grant’s lap.

“Hey…” Grant looked up in the rearview mirror with a look that said, “I know this is wrong but I haven’t had a woman’s face in my crotch in a long time and I’m really enjoying it…but I’m really embarrassed too.”

Lillith just smiled as Grant locked eyes in the mirror with her. She could read everything that was happening just by his expression. He was really enjoying this...and then he wasn’t. After only a couple of minutes, he looked down and Lillith could see by the reflection of his face that he was disappointed. “She’s out.” He slid the seat back. “Can you help?”

Lillith leaned forward and together they managed to sit Karen up while Grant re-fastened her seatbelt. Karen was mumbling incoherently but Lillith could barely hold her against the seat while Grant fumbled with the seatbelt. She could see flashes of Grant’s cock as he twisted toward Karen to secure her. It was wet with Karen’s saliva and red on the tip. It came up to his navel. Lillith couldn’t take her eyes off of it. When Karen was buckled in, he leaned back and raised his hips so that he could refasten his pants. That was when Lillith finally raised her eyes and saw that he was looking right at her. 

“This is awkward.”

Grant started the car and they backed out and onto the road. Lillith was soaking wet now, thinking--for the first time--about my offer. I can’t call him now. I don’t know if anything will happen. In fact, nothing will happen. He’ll drop me off and they’ll go back to her place and screw.

Grant touched Karen on the shoulder. “Hey, Karen. Karen. I don’t know where you live, you have to wake up so you can tell me where you live.”

Lillith squeezed her legs together and clenched her pussy. “I know where she lives. Why don’t we drop her off first, then you can take me home second.” 

Grant looked intently at her in the mirror. After a heartbeat or two, he smiled. “Good plan.”

They left Karen on her bed after removing her shoes and turning her on her side, and Lillith wrote her a note and left it on the kitchen table. Back in the car, Lillith gave him directions to our house wondering if she should call me now or when they walked in. But there was something about the line of his jaw under that red beard as Grant craned his neck to back the car out of the drive that made up her mind. “You know, I may have a Secret Santa gift for you after all,” Lillith said, and leaned over to unzip his pants.