The Domville 5 (The Domville #5) (3 page)

‘Thank you,’ she smiled, almost shyly, a blush
covering her cheeks. I clasped her hand tightly as we made our way out of the
busy restaurant, smirking as I saw a group of twenty something public school
boy types checking out her backside as she walked. Twenty years ago, I’d
probably have decked them, but now I couldn’t be more proud. She was old enough
to be their mother, but they wouldn’t say no if she was available, I’d lay odds
on it. I loved the fact that she could be sexy, yet classy at the same time.
She could get away with wearing miniskirts, tiny booty shorts or a miniscule
bodycon dress, but, with the exception of those jeans that clung to her like a
second skin, she didn’t flaunt it.

We made our way back towards the Quarry, where
the renowned annual Shrewsbury flower show was held. The Domville took pride of
place at the top of the steep descent down to the river, with views up to the
prestigious Shrewsbury Boys School where our son Caleb attended, following in
my footsteps. I had many happy memories of lustful teenage years in this town,
where my parents still lived. If I didn’t have to work in Birmingham, I’d have
chosen to live back here, but it just added that extra mileage onto an already
tedious commute. I could see us retiring here though, spending afternoons
strolling through the park hand in hand, stopping in one of the cocktail bars
along the river on a sunny afternoon and eating out regularly, given there was
such a bountiful choice of places to eat. It almost had a French style café
culture to it with the tree lined river and bars with tables and chairs outside,
to take in the scenic views of the greenery or the historic parts of the town.
We decided to forgo a stop in our favourite cocktail bar along the way and head
back to the hotel, making our way into the Champagne bar.

‘What has you smiling so much,’ Tracy asked, as
we found a cosy table, far enough away from the piano player to enjoy the music
without having to shout over it.

‘How many admiring glances you’re getting
tonight, and not just from me,’ I replied, enjoying how much that embarrassed
her.

‘Don’t be so silly.’ She shuffled in her seat,
uncrossing her legs, then crossing them the other way.

‘Take a look around, one guy’s already been
punched in the arm for checking you out while we were at the bar.’ I put my
whisky down on the table in front of us, propped my elbow on the arm of the
leather chair I was in and leaned towards her. ‘He’s imagining what it would be
like to see you naked, or to have you on your knees in front of him with a
mouthful.’

‘Anthony!’ She choked on her vodka orange and
burst into a fit of the giggles.

‘Trust me. Every time I saw you at college,
that’s what I was thinking about, having those hazel eyes looking up at mine as
you sucked my cock and swallowed everything I gave you. Christ, was reality
even better than my dreams. You were amazing.’ I licked my dry lower lip as I
thought back to the days when a quick blow job behind some bushes, or in the
car, was a regular feature. With the sudden explosion of our sex life in the
last few weeks, we’d been too busy with the actual fucking portion of the act
to focus on oral stimulation. Suddenly it was all I could think about. ‘I have
a sudden hankering to have your lips around my cock, to watch you swallow me
before I lick your clit and lap you dry.’

‘Stop,’ she moaned, rapidly gulping down some
of her drink.

‘Tell me the thought of my tongue flicking at
your aching clit doesn’t turn you on? Or that dreaming of my fingers pumping
inside you while I suck on it isn’t making you flood your knickers right now?
How about if you were sucking me while a total stranger had his face buried in
your pussy, tasting you for the first time?’

‘We need to go, right now,’ she murmured,
tucking her hair behind her ear. Her lips were slightly parted to accommodate
her more rapid breathing. I smiled as I flicked my eyes down to her chest, to
see the faint outline of her stiffened nipples pushing against the fabric of
her bra and top.

‘I’m not going to fuck you yet, I want to get
you off somewhere other than the safety of our hotel room.’ I could hear lust
fuelling my tone, the rumble that betrayed how desperate I was to do something
slightly illicit with her.

‘You’re killing me right now,’ she uttered,
knocking back her drink and quickly standing. ‘Don’t make promises you can’t
keep, Hodgins, or I’ll be filing for a divorce.’

‘You’re stuck with me now, sweetheart. These last
few weeks has reminded me how good we are together, so now I’m never letting
you go.’

Tracy

Ordinarily I’d have happily sat in the Champagne
bar all night, soaking up the atmosphere and people watching. It was so cosy,
with plump brown leather armchairs and sofas, its mahogany wood floors and
taupe and gold décor. Lighting was set low, giving an intimate vibe that was
added to by the gentle strains of the piano playing inoffensively in the
background. The chatter from the patrons was the loudest noise. It was a
popular bar, despite the expensive prices. Everyone was dressed smartly, but I
only had eyes for Anthony tonight. He was in a charcoal suit, with a green
shirt to match his eyes. I’d made him have a haircut this morning, leaving it
just long enough that I could clutch at it with my fingers when we were
kissing. I loved doing that. His dirty talk and suggestions had me fit to burst
though. Now all I could think about was him living up to his promise of making
me come.

As he coaxed me towards the lift, his palm
firmly in the small of my back, I marvelled at the difference in us in the
space of two weeks. All it had taken was a slight amount of effort on both our
parts and it was like the early days of our relationship, like we were seeing
each other through new eyes. Randy and horny as hell new eyes. I giggled as his
hand moved down to squeeze my butt when he ushered me into the waiting lift. I
wished it wasn’t already occupied, as I’d have loved a make out session on the
way up to our floor. I tucked up against him, my back to his chest as more
people got in. His hands automatically palmed my stomach, pulling me right up
against him, his lips finding that spot on my neck that always sent shivers
skittering down my spine. I closed my eyes and focussed on how good it felt to
be held and desired by him again. To feel his breath on my skin and his firm
erection against my backside. I just hoped it lasted, that this renewed
enthusiasm for each other didn’t wane. I knew it was unrealistic to expect us
to keep up this sort of pace long term, but I didn’t want to go back to where
we were before. Stagnating. I leaned my head back on his shoulder, titling my
head to nuzzle into his neck, drinking in his aftershave and natural heady
scent. I was so lucky. How many men, with his secret desires and a sexy PA
throwing herself at him, would have held off out of loyalty to their wives? Not
many, I suspected.

‘This is us,’ he whispered, kissing my forehead
as I heard the lift ping. We were the only ones who got out on our floor. I
could feel my breathing becoming erratic, sensing the sexual urgency coming off
him as he grabbed my hand and walked quickly towards our beautiful suite. I
squealed in surprise when he suddenly dragged me through an open doorway and
pushed me back against the wall in the alcove where the ice machine was housed.

‘What are you doing,’ I gasped.

‘I told you I was in the mood for something
illicit,’ he grinned, his fingers making short work of undoing the button and
zip on my jeans. His lips mashed against mine hungrily and I reciprocated, a
moan transferring from my mouth to his as his hand slipped between my stomach
and knickers. I tensed up as his fingers moved lower, a murmur of appreciation for
my newly waxed pussy tangled somewhere between the thrusts of his tongue. The
look on his face when he’d seen that would be indelibly inked on my brain. I’d
never been waxed before, and I think I’d prefer childbirth over the humiliation
of an ankle being held in the air as a stranger tore away that strip and made
me scream. Anthony had loved it though, he’d buried his face between my thighs
faster than someone from overeaters anonymous tucking in at an all you can eat
buffet. That alone was worth the pain and the after burn.

‘O God.’ The words that left my lips as his
fingers finally connected with my throbbing clit echoed in this small space. He
pulled his head back, clamping his free hand over my mouth to muffle my moans
of pleasure as he rubbed fast and hard.

‘Jesus, Tracy. You’re soaked. I wish you were
wearing a dress so I could get on my knees and feast on you in public.’

My eyes watered as my face scrunched up with
pleasure, my body elongating up the wall as I stood on the balls of my feet,
pushing my hips forward to press harder against his hand. He dipped lower,
sliding easily through my folds, and inserted his middle finger, which my
muscles contracted around immediately. I hissed through my teeth as he worked
inside me, biting my neck and earlobe as he built me up to boiling point. I
tensed up as we heard laughter and conversation drifting up the corridor, but
instead of stopping, he worked faster and harder. I tried pulling my hips back,
but he just pushed into me, trapping me against the wall. Despite his hand
dampening the noises I was making, I was terrified of someone hearing my mewls
of pleasure. Terrified, but so turned on at the thought that we might be caught
mid act. The voices got closer, as did I. I widened my eyes as I stared at
Anthony, willing him to read my nerves, but he just winked and slipped another
finger inside me, pumping faster. I clenched tightly and gritted my teeth as
the voices grew level, an orgasm threatening to shatter me and have me scream
so loudly, no form of gag would be able to disguise us hidden in here.

‘No,’ I mumbled against his palm as my climax
began to blossom. Anthony’s grin grew wider, his eyes twinkling wickedly. He
leaned in to whisper in my ear.

‘Come for me, Tracy, you know you have no
control once it starts.’ He was right, it was pitiful how quickly, and easily,
I could come. I closed my eyes, praying that the approaching voices weren’t
coming to replenish their ice bucket, and gave in to the heady sensation of my
orgasm. I tried desperately to mute my response as my body shook, but Anthony
had to pretend to hold a conversation about how much ice we needed to try and
detract from the noise. I slumped against the wall when I started to come down
from my high, relieved that the other guests had continued by, leaving us
undetected. Anthony chuckled as he uncovered my mouth.

‘You’re evil,’ I moaned, taking big gulps of
air. Breathing through one's nose during an orgasm wasn’t an easy feat.

‘Don’t try making out that you didn’t enjoy
it,’ he chuckled, slowly sliding his fingers out from inside me. He pulled his
hand from my jeans and lifted up his fingers, glistening with my arousal for me
to see. ‘This tells me that you did. Suck them clean,’ he ordered.

‘Next time it will be you in the public sexual
act hot seat,’ I warned, doing as I was told, wondering if other women tasted
anything like I did.

‘I have no problem with that.’

Tracy

‘I’m going down to the Champagne bar, come and join me when
you’re ready. Our table’s booked early, for seven p.m., so we can eat unhurried
then head to the event together at nine.’ Anthony leaned over and kissed the
top of my head as I sat at the dressing table doing my makeup. I was wrapped in
my luxurious towel, fresh from the most amazing power massage shower.

‘Don’t you dare leave me alone in that ballroom
tonight,’ I warned, pointing my stippling brush at his reflection in the
mirror.

‘I told you, I’m only happy sharing if I’m
watching. You really think I’d let you loose in a room full of swingers without
me at your side?’

‘I’m so nervous,’ I confessed, my shoulders
slumping slightly. Much as the idea turned me on, I wasn’t sure I’d have the
courage to see it through. He immediately put his hands on my shoulders and
proceeded to give me a light massage.

‘We’re going to have a look, to see what sort
of people attend and how they approach each other. If you don’t want to go
through with inviting anyone up, or accepting any invitations, we don’t have
to.’

‘What if someone really ugly asks to join us?
It’s not like I can say “
sorry, go get a new face and come and proposition
me when you look like Gerard Butler
,” is it?’

‘No,’ he laughed. ‘But you can say “
sorry,
not tonight
.” Everyone there knows the score. Besides, I had to show both
of our pictures when I was vetted for the membership. It’s an elite club, they
don’t let any old Tom, Dick or Harry in. There’s a certain standard that has to
be met in terms of looks and physique.’

‘Well, everyone’s idea of what’s attractive
varies, doesn’t it? Most women are mad about George Clooney, but I’m telling
you, if he came and knocked on our door and said “
Tracy, I want to ravish
you right now
,” I’d be like, “
Jog on, Cloones. That face don’t float
this boat
.”’

‘You don’t think he’s hot?’ Anthony looked at
me puzzled.

‘No, why? Do you? Are you trying to tell me you
want to fuck a man tonight?’ I held his gaze, awaiting his response. I wasn’t
sure how I felt about that. Women together seemed ok to me, it conjured images
of softness and romance. Two men, totally the opposite. I pictured raw and
aggressive fucking, which, in my eyes, would debase the guy on the receiving
end. That didn’t turn me on at all.

‘No! I love the idea of watching you get fucked
by someone else, but I’ve never wanted to try a guy, not my thing at all. You’re
what turns me on, and tonight is all about you and the pleasure I’ll get from
watching you, if you feel comfortable enough to do it.’

‘You promise you won’t be mad if I don’t?’ I
bit my lip nervously as I waited for his response. He’d already answered that
question a number of times, but I still needed the reassurance.

‘I promise, one step at a time. The fact you’ve
even agreed to come to the event, so soon after discovering I harboured this
fantasy, is a massive step. I told you, if you never feel comfortable with it,
I’ll handle that. I love you more than I love the idea of carrying out a sexual
kink of mine.’ He leaned down and kissed my cheek reassuringly, making me relax
a little. ‘I’ll see you later, there are a few gifts on the bed for you.’

‘I’ve had my lovely weekend away and some new
clothes,’ I reminded him.

‘Count those as an apology for having my head
up my arse for the last however many years. These gifts are for putting up with
me for fifteen years of marriage. I love you, Tracy, never doubt that.’ He
clasped my chin, tilting it back so he could kiss me softly on the lips, his
words melting my heart.

‘I love you too, darling,’ I whispered, with
tears in my eyes. He ran his thumb over my lower lip as he smiled down at me,
his handsome face full of happiness. It was a good look on him, instead of the
weary look I’d grown so accustomed to. I watched his sexy backside disappear
out of the dressing room and sighed happily. He looked completely edible in a
pair of black trousers and matching black waistcoat, with a crisp white shirt
rolled at the sleeves. I decided not to focus on my nerves about tonight and
instead continued with my makeup. We had a lovely meal in The Domville restaurant
to look forward to first. We’d been so impressed with the suite and service at
the hotel, that Anthony had suggested staying in The New York Domville for a
pre-Christmas break, just the two of us, no kids. That sounded like bliss. It
had been years since we’d done anything on our own, other than our anniversary
weekends away.

I kept my makeup light and fresh, adding some
radiance to my cheeks and brows, with lashings of black mascara and eyeliner,
then a dash of gold eyeshadow which made my hazel eyes pop. I dried my hair and
decided on a sleek, sexy ponytail, my blunt asymmetrical fringe making me look
edgy and far from my age. I headed through to the bedroom, to see what surprise
Anthony had got for me and saw a number of boxes on the bed, with a hand
written note on top of them.

I fluttered my hands in front of my eyes, trying
to stem the tears I wanted to shed, while not ruining my newly applied makeup.
It had been so long since he’d bought me a gift
just because
, or written
me a heartfelt note. I really hoped that this wasn’t a phase he was going
through, that once the novelty of the new us wore off, Sabrina’s appeal
wouldn’t tempt him away from me. I made short work of opening my presents, ecstatic
to find he’d purchased a black wrap dress for me that I’d tried on in Phase
Eight. I’d discounted it as I thought it was too expensive. It had looked so
sexy on, yet classy, hugging my curves while showing a bit of my cleavage,
stopping just above the knee. He’d also purchased some very sexy red lace
matching lingerie and sheer lace top hold-ups. He must have checked the
underwear I’d brought with me and memorised the size, he’d never bought me
underwear in all our years together. What nearly had me lose my battle to
contain my tears though, was a stunning diamond pendant and matching earrings.

I immediately put all of my new items on, with
my best pair of gold strappy sandals that had a five inch heel, then did a
twirl in the mirror. I was stunned at how sophisticated I looked, sexy too. It
was hard to reconcile this Tracy with the one who’d studied herself in the
mirror with her sweat pants and a t-shirt on, bared faced, with over bleached,
brittle hair. This felt more like me, the old me that Anthony had fallen in
love with. I virtually skipped down the corridor to take the lift to the ground
floor, smiling at the attractive couple, with two young children, already in
there. I tried not to stare, but I was sure I knew the woman from somewhere,
her face was so familiar. As the lift door closed, the little girl let out a
squeal, which made me jump.

‘Greyson, what have I told you about pulling
your sister’s hair,’ warned the man, as he crouched down and extracted the
little girl’s beautiful brunette locks from the cheeky looking blond boy.

‘She called me ugly and said I smelled like
poo,’ he pouted, making me giggle. He was far from ugly, with his adorable
dimples and blond hair. They were a seriously good looking family, all with
stunning blue eyes.

‘You’re not ugly, darling. I’ve told you before
that you’re even better looking than your father. And you don’t smell of poo at
all. She’s teasing you, as usual, and you fall for it every time. You smell
absolutely gorgeous and I love you, both of you,’ his mum told him as she bent
down to pick him up and kiss him. He grinned and flung his arms around her
neck, hugging her tightly.

‘I love you too, Mummy,’ he whispered, kissing
her back. My heart crumpled at the sincerity in his voice.

‘Me too, I want hugs and kisses,’ the little
girl called, holding her arms up in the air.

‘Mummy’s already hugging Greyson, come and have
a cuddle with me instead, Tabby.’ The man held out his arms and she ran to him
giggling. He swept her up and put her on his hip, kissing the top of her head.
She beamed up at him, her face full of adoration.

‘How old are they?’ I asked, full of nostalgia.
My children were at the age where the threat of a kiss had them running in the
opposite direction.

‘They’re twins, both four now. They have so
much energy they run us ragged,’ the mum replied with a laugh, kissing the
little boy’s cheek again.

‘Enjoy it while you can. Mine are in their
teens and I can’t remember the last time I was asked for a hug or kiss.’ The
door to the lift pinged open and the man put his hand out to make sure the
doors couldn’t close.

‘We will, we realise how lucky we are. I’m sure
yours still appreciate you, no matter what they may show on the outside. After
you,’ he nodded with his head.

‘Thank you, have a great night,’ I nodded,
casting a wistful look back at them, wondering if Anthony and I had looked that
happy when Caleb and Rosie were that age.

‘You too,’ he smiled, a seriously melt-my-knickers-he-was-so-hot
smile. I hurried out, horrified that I’d just wondered if they would be at the
event tonight. They looked almost young enough to be my children and I was
visualising the husband naked.

‘Go on, Mia, you first,’ I heard him say to his
wife as I headed off towards the bar.

Mia.
That’s where I knew her face from.
That was the Mia that had been kidnapped some years back by the Westhampton
Serial Killer. Her face had been all over the news for a long time. It was nice
to see that she’d come through that ordeal and was happy and had a family now.
Having to put up with a husband who worked long hours really seemed
insignificant to what she must have been through. I needed to be more accepting
of Anthony’s work. I mean, it had afforded us a very nice lifestyle and it
wasn’t like we’d had to endure any life crises like that. I noticed the concierge
trying to discreetly eye me up as I crossed the lobby, which bolstered my
confidence. I walked into the bar, feeling really good about myself, as well as
excited to spend more time with my unusually happy husband. He was sitting on a
stool at the bar and his face spoke volumes as he watched me walk towards him.
He shook his head as he scanned me from top to toe, pursing his lips in a
silent whistle.

‘Do you come here often?’ he enquired with a
grin.

‘I smell cheese. Someone needs to work on their
chat up lines,’ I laughed.

‘Don’t need to. I already know I’m on to a sure
thing,’ he winked.

‘You sure are, handsome,’ I replied, putting my
arms around his neck and kissing him on the lips. ‘Thank you so much for all of
my gifts. I love all of them, you’ve gone to so much expense this weekend.’

‘Just making up for lost time, but I had no
idea how much better everything would look on you. You’re stunning normally,
but tonight …’ he shook his head again, blowing out a breath. ‘I don’t have
words. With you on my arm later, we’re going to be beating them off with a
stick.’

‘Please, like you’re not looking like some hot
older male model. I’ve never seen you look so handsome either, aging suits
you.’ I reached for his shirt buttons and undid one, revealing more of his
chest. He reached behind him and took a bottle of Champagne from an ice bucket,
pouring me a glass.

‘Here, let’s toast to fifteen years of marriage
and a new start,’ he suggested, passing me my glass and topping up his own.

‘I’ll toast to that,’ I confirmed, clinking
glasses.

‘So, who in here do you think is going to be
joining us later?’ he asked under his breath, as he cast an eye around the busy
bar.

‘Hopefully not the ninety year olds in the
corner,’ I giggled.

‘Poor guy looks like he’d have a heart attack
if anyone flashed their tits at him. His wife probably has to lift her skirt to
do that nowadays.’

‘Don’t, we’ll be like that one day. Besides,
look at them, the way they look at each other. They’re still in love, it’s so
sweet.’