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 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!'