While The Wife's Away - And Other Stories , livre ebook

Title Page

WHILE THE WIFE’S AWAY
AND OTHER STORIES


By
Kris Andersson




Publisher Information


While The Wife’s Away – And Other Stories
published in 2011 by Andrews UK Limited
www.andrewsuk.com


This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published, and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.


The characters and situations in this book are entirely imaginary and bear no relation to any real person or actual happening.


Copyright © Kris Andersson


The right of Kris Andersson to be identified as author of this book has been asserted in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyrights Designs and Patents Act 1988.

Cover photograph copyright G. Dallorto




While The Wife’s Away

AS I WALKED into the room he smiled, that smile I had seen the first time we met, the smile that had led me to his home tonight.
He was dressed as I had fantasised he would be – black suit, crisp white shirt, black tie, even the black patent shoes.
He held a glass of red wine in his hand but placed it on the coffee table as I approached.
No need to talk this time, no time for questions and answers. I simply moved towards him, placed my hands on his shoulders and then pulled him towards me, my hand moving up to feel his neck and the back of his head as we started to kiss and his arms encircled me.

I’D SOMEHOW known that it would come to this, even though we had only met 24 hours earlier in rather more formal surroundings.
He’d welcomed me into that panelled room, a sophisticated space for our first meeting, but the way he looked at me, just a flicker of recognition that promised far more than we were there for, suggested there was something not on the formal agenda that would have to be addressed pretty quickly and as we shook hands, the hold lingered for just a second longer than required, as though our fingers already wanted to be better acquainted.
He was considerably shorter than me but stockier too, the bulky frame of a man past his prime perhaps but that didn’t bother me because I’d always enjoyed sex with men who knew what they wanted from years of experience.
I knew from what I’d been told that he was 20 years older than me, the perfect age gap for somebody like me wanting to benefit from that greater wealth of knowledge.
And judging from that first eye contact, the glint of interest that went beyond the formality of the occasion, I didn’t think it would be that much of a problem getting him to share.

He was bald on top, with a closely cropped fringe of neat grey hair around the sides and a neatly trimmed goatee that provided an attractive frame to a smiling, sensual mouth.
He was dressed formally in a grey suit that hugged his frame and a shirt and tie that, I guessed, would cover a rugged hairy chest.
The conversation went as you might expect, an exchange of pleasantries, mutual questioning, nothing to make me think he was imagining sucking my cock.
But all the time he spoke I could see myself not too far in the future, bent over that large desk, my trousers and pants round my ankles while he stood behind me, spanking my eager arse.
Then he would drop his trousers pull his cock out of his skimpy, bulging briefs and thrust it straight in between my willing cheeks, ramming it home until I felt his white hot cum spurting up inside me and he slumped against my back, exhausted by the exertion.
But it wouldn’t stop there because then I would turn, force him to his knees and encourage him to suck my aching cock until I too could hold it no longer and, as I pulled away, spunk would shower that handsome face, dripping from the beard onto the white shirt.
With this energetic scenario through my imagination I didn’t feel I had contributed as much to proceedings as I could have done and suddenly the meeting was drawing to a close.
I stood up to leave and couldn’t help notice that his eyes strayed to the unavoidable bulge in my groin that a tight fitting black pinstripe was having trouble camouflaging.
He smiled as he took my hand once more and was saying a formal goodbye when he added, apparently as an afterthought: “You know, there’s a lot more we need to discuss. Not here, though. I have a really busy schedule this week and can’t squeeze you in.”
There was a brief pause as he appeared to consider his next move and then he said: “Come round to my home tomorrow evening and we’ll take things further.”
“I don’t want to intrude,” I tried to protest, not too convincingly. “I’m sure your wife doesn’t like you bringing business home.”

“No need to worry about that,” he replied. “I’m home alone this week. I can do what I want.”
Again, the hand lingered just a moment too long in mine as he gave me the address and I left, hoping and guessing what tomorrow evening would bring.

HE GROANED slightly as our tongues sought each other, his goatee just slightly and enticingly tickling me, making my lips tingle with anticipation.
Somehow we headed towards the sofa and fell back onto the plump cushions, his hands roaming across my body as my enjoyed the sensation of caressing his neck, running through the clipped hair, moving upwards to stroke his beautifully sexy bald head.
I’d never realised before just how much of a turn on a bald head could be as I found myself first kissing, then licking that shining expanse of flesh as though it were a massive phallus.
And then I strayed to his ears, small with neat lopes that I sucked and nipped just enough to make him gasp a little before I returned to placing my tongue between his teeth, darting in and out, then exploring deeper, feeling into the pleasurable darkness for the tongue that was as responsive as mine.
“I couldn’t stay away, I had to be here, to show you how I feel,” I murmured as our lips parted for just seconds before finding each other again.
By now he was tugging at my belt, undoing the buckle, an expert hand unfastening my trousers enough that he could slip his hand in and find his way to my cock, which was hard and hot against my black Calvins.
I could no longer resist the urge to loosen his tie, always my favourite moment in the early stages of seduction, pulling at the knot just enough to allow me to undo the top two buttons of his shirt, allowing me to see a glimpse of the hairy chest I had rightly guessed would be there for me to enjoy.
Two more buttons unfastened revealed the dark forest of hair that swirled down from his shoulder blades and would, I guessed, go all the way down to the groin.
I pulled the shirt open, ran my hands through the hair and found the nipples, tweaking them gently before moving down to lick and suck, my tongue finding a way through the hair to the delicate hard pink that responded to my lips by becoming deliciously erect.
“I want you in my bed,” he groaned, pulling me to my feet and taking me by the hand as he led me upstairs to the bedroom, where an ornate brass bed with cool cotton sheets was waiting for us to begin the next stage of our sexual journey.
As he lay there, I undid the last button on his shirt, pulling it off and throwing it to one side, removed his shoes and socks, pulled off the black trousers and tugged his jock strap off to reveal a dark cock with a curious curve, quite unlike my long, straight member.
He wasn’t slim or toned but I wanted to caress that slight paunch, covered by that lush coating of soft hair that started at his pubes and extended upwards in a dense mass all the way to broad shoulders and then even slightly over to the back where it finished in a triangle at the base of his neck.
I had never had sex with quite so old a man before and certainly not one who was old enough to be my father but tonight that was all I wanted, the age and the experience and the confidence that came with a man who knew how to handle a cock to gain maximum mutual satisfaction.
I’d always loved sex with women but men with men seem to have an instinct for appreciating what the other wants and needs from a purely physical, sexual perspective and this one was no exception, a mature lover who would take what he desired and allow me to do the same.
Even the picture of the woman I assumed to be his wife on the dressing table didn’t bother me. She was his problem and she wasn’t here. I was and I wanted to roam through that hairy body, make it my own, drench it with my cum and let him do the same to me.
As he lay back on the bed, stroking his own cock, I started to undress, removing shirt, shoes, socks and trousers with just enough speed to let him know how much I wanted him.
I’d left my Calvins on but as I approached the bed I allowed him to slip his hand in, feeling but not seeing the gift they held inside and then letting his tug them down so he could admire a cock which now stood to full attention, the purple tip already glistening with its own lubricant.
I lay on the bed beside him and pulled him towards me, once again feeling the intense pleasure of two eager tongues forcing their way towards each other, slipping into each other’s mouths as our hands explored.
Inevitably, though, his hand descended to my groin as he grasped my cock and began a rhythmic movement up and down, with just enough pressure to make me gasp with pleasure without wanting to cum.
Then he moved his head down, stopping to playfully bite both nipples but moving on quickly to place his lips arou