Adrian knew that I wasn't actually having sex with my wife. However, it really bothered him, that Sara would simulate the act with me to enhance my pleasure, as I fucked the pocket pussy. I loved the way she got me off. It was hyper-realistic, so close to the real thing, that with the bedroom lights dimmed, it truly felt like I was fucking my wife.
Adrian called Sara on it once. "Chris is taking liberties with the alternative sexual outlet, I have generously provided him. Things are going to change, in the very near future, if he keeps abusing his pocket pussy privileges."
I could sense that Adrian was jealous of me, which seemed utterly ridiculous, considering the lewd acts my wife regularly did for him. He managed to persuade Sara to spend one night a week at his place, in addition to "date night". This was really hard on me, and I would endure a very fitful night's sleep, knowing that he was defiling her in the grandeur of his beautiful home.
Unbeknownst to me, Adrian didn't spend every waking hour, having sex with my wife. They were more like a married couple, and would often enjoy a home-cooked meal together, or relax and watch Netflix. However, because Adrian is an asshole, he had a pretty elaborate routine that he put me through, designed to make me jealous. I basically had to prepare my wife for his enjoyment.
Anal sex was a given, on the nights that Sara stayed at Adrian's, or at least that's what they led me to believe. I had to go to the pharmacy and purchase an enema. Then, as Sara lay on her side, with one leg in the air, I had to insert the enema and squeeze the bulb. After a few minutes of privacy, in which she discharged the enema fluid, I had to run her a bath.
Sara would relax as I shaved her legs, washed her hair, and exfoliated her skin. Once she had got out of the bath, I dried her completely. Then I would apply moisturizer to her skin from head to toe, so that she was silky smooth for Adrian. The rest of her was already completely hairless, thanks to the regular waxing treatments Adrian paid for.
Shortly after her bath, Adrian's hair stylist and make up team would arrive, to get Sara prepped for him. He would text them his preferred nail color, and makeup style, depending on his mood. Then as they worked to beautify my wife, I would be banished to the bedroom, to pack her night bag.
I use the words "night bag" loosely, as Sara actually took three large suitcases to his house, for the one night stay.
I said to her one time, "Sara, you have packed more clothes for one night, than most people would pack for three weeks in Hawaii."
"I just never know what Adrian is the mood for," she responded truthfully, without realizing how painful this was for me to hear.
She would basically pack all of her lingerie, dresses, short skirts, high heels, pretty much everything she owned, that was sexy. Sara would leave her sweatpants, bedroom slippers, sweaters and all the boring stuff I saw her in regularly. As I also got to unpack the suitcases the following day, on her return, I noticed that some stuff never made it back.
"Are you leaving some of your clothes at Adrian's?" I asked her one day.
"I have my own room there baby," she said excitedly. "With my own huge walk-in closet! I decided to leave some stuff at Adrian's house, that I don't need here. Like my lingerie, swim suits and most of my short skirts."
"Why do you need your high school cheerleading uniform at his house?" I asked jealously.
"Take a guess, silly!" she responded with a giggle.
Her home wardrobe got more and more matronly, as most of her sexy clothes were at Adrian's. Also, she told me that Adrian had bought her lots of new clothes, and he was adamant that I never get to see them.
I never got to see Sara after the stylist and make-up team arrived. I would pack her suitcases, and lug them downstairs to the front door. Then I would wait quietly in my office. The limo would arrive at Adrian's appointed time and she was expected to be ready, which she always was.
