El viaje de placer de mi esposa

Mariana (she is my wife, you know her) arrived from work one afternoon and told me they sent her away for a long weekend with a bridge holiday in the middle to the branch that the company has in Santa Cruz. She had to leave on Saturday at noon and would return on Wednesday morning. I got a little sad, but understood it was a labor issue. What can you do!

It arrived on Saturday, Mariana woke up early, grabbed her handbag, and put some clothes in it. Aren't you taking too little clothing? I said. She wasn't carrying a coat, other shoes, or her makeup set; almost nothing. You're right! What an idiot..., she replied. She changed the bag for the medium suitcase and started putting everything necessary and more, typical of her. At noon, the doorbell rang, answered by the electric door porter, who said: The taxi has arrived. I'm leaving. We kissed passionately, exchanged some Take care and I'll miss you and she left.

I put a bit of order to the mess she left, watched TV, cooked something, and took a nap in the afternoon. I had the whole weekend for myself but wanted to be calm, so I hadn't organized anything with my friends. Something would come up anyway. After two hours of siesta, I got up and went into the shower. Bad luck! There was no water at all. I didn't want to call Esteban right away because he had already finished his shift by noon on Saturdays, and being a long weekend, he wouldn't work until Wednesday noon. I made some mates, turned on the TV, and prepared to wait.

Two hours later, I tried the water again: nothing. Not a drop. I didn't want to mess things up, but had to ask the porter if he knew anything or could do something. I sent him a WhatsApp, but it didn't reach him. I thought he must have turned off his phone, the lazy guy probably disconnected to avoid us breaking our heads. As a good neighbor and someone who's into things that I am, I went to the machinery room where the water pumps are, to see if... could do something. Probably not, but I had to try. I go down the stairs and arrive at the ground floor where the machines are, right next to the porter's department. I enter the machine room, look around, try to guess how everything works, but I didn't get anything. I didn't understand a thing so I left without touching anything, to see if it was still getting worse.

When I leave, I see light coming from Esteban's apartment and decide to ring his doorbell to tell him about the water issue. Although he doesn't have to work, he won't die just for doing us a favor by fixing that problem. I go with my finger pointing at the doorbell when I hear Mariana's clear laughter just before the door. My mind had an absolute moment of pause, without understanding anything, until I react and think I must have made a mistake. Sure, I miss her so much that it seemed like she was here, must be the TV. I retake my intention to ring the doorbell when I hear Mariana now with no doubt saying: Come on, come here, I want more, bombón...

Panic. I didn't know what to do. I take a step back. I get angry. I get depressed. I want to cry. I get excited! All at once! I breathe heavily through my mouth not to make noise. I try to calm down and think about what my next move should be. A second later Esteban's voice pulls me out of my reverie: Do you want more, little girl? And what do you want? And I hear my wife telling him: I love you inside me all day.

I was decided! I knew what I was going to do. I sat down very slowly, leaned my head against the door and prepared to listen and enjoy what was happening inside. Luckily, the building's doors are very thin and everything can be heard.

Give me that tiny ass well of a slut you have, he said. It's all yours, make her a mess..., she said with her teeth clenched. At the touch, my wife's moans and the porter's grunts filled me with an impossible pleasure to explain and endure. Three seconds later I was already... with my cock in hand, screwing myself with a divine masturbation.

Like this... like this... fuck me..., she was yelling. Yes, slut, whatever you want..., he replied. All day, all day, fuck me all day..., she begged. You're not leaving here until Wednesday, do you understand?, he said. Yes... what a tasty... fuck me all weekend, pussy..., she pleaded. Like that for a long time, until the moans and growls turned into a clear sign of mutual and synchronized orgasm.

There was a silent moment, only interrupted by my wife's gasps, who after recovering her breath, said: And? Did I have a good idea or not?. You're as smart as a slut, baby, he said, Where did you tell him you were going?, she replied. Santa Cruz!, and the two of them burst out laughing. Wait until I call him and make up something about the trip... Ah, I panicked, Mariana was going to call me on my cell phone and hear my ringtone. I grabbed the phone quickly and turned it off when the call started ringing. I ran to our apartment, but I was sure she had heard me.

I entered the house and a few minutes later she wrote to me on WhatsApp...

SHE: Hi

ME: Hi, love! How are you? Where are you?

SHE: You know where I am.

ME: What?

SHE: You know... I'm on a trip

It was a fact. She had realized my presence behind the door. I tried to hide it...

ME: Yes, love. You're going to Santa Cruz.

SHE: I know you know where I am.

I took a deep breath and played along...

ME: No, no I don't know. Send me a picture so I can see where you are.

It was an eternal minute until she sent me a selfie of her embracing Esteban, the manager, both naked in bed.

SHE: Here I am. And you know it.

ME: Yes... I know...

SHE: And you know I'll be back home just on Wednesday morning.

ME: Yes, also know that...

SHE: Do you have something to say?

ME: No.

SHE: Do you like where I am?

ME: I love it

SHE: I love you

ME: I love you

I passed... This weekend I was receiving every hour or two on my cell phone photos of my wife, some sent by her and others by the doorman, each one in extremely exciting situations. Obviously, each photo was followed by a beautiful masturbation.