Susanna’s Affairs: Chapter Ten
By: Guy New York
Tags: Fiction, Erotica, Kink, Hotwife, Novel

Susanna’s Affairs: Chapter Ten

The following afternoon, Susanna put on the same dress, the same nude stockings, and the same garter belt as she wore on the train. She applied her lipstick and mascara, fussed with her hair for a rather long time, and neatly trimmed her pubic hair to make sure her sex was clearly visible through the curls. Her hands trembled, and her fingers shook, but she did the best she could as she prepared herself for the encounter.

In many ways, she had done the hard part. She had called the number on the note and made an appointment to see the gentleman in question, telling his secretary that it was of a personal nature and that they were old friends. Susanna was quite surprised when the woman told her to arrive at two pm the following day, but she thanked her and sat back down, her legs nearly giving out beneath her.

While she had found other distractions in recent days, she was no less obsessed with her train companion than two weeks before. In fact, she still found herself looking for him wherever she went, and when she made love to her husband, it was nearly always the man in the gray suit who was on her mind.

Once or twice she even bent over in the bathroom as Nicholas was getting dressed in the morning and touched herself until he took her, letting himself be late for work to satisfy himself with his wife. They spoke nothing of it, and if Nicholas was suspicious of anything, he didn’t show it. In fact, he had even stopped pushing her to find a new lover and seemed genuinely pleased that she was so content with Teresa and Jack.

But as she finished her preparations, she grew more and more nervous until she almost decided to cancel. It was only the phone call from Simone that pushed her out the door, with promises to come to her the moment it was done so she might hear what had happened, no matter how beautiful or horrible it was. And besides, Simone said, the worst that could happen is he won’t remember you, and you might need to start all over from the beginning.

The office building in Midtown was nearly seventy stories tall, and she was both excited and scared to discover he worked near to the top. The elevator ride was long and excruciating as she rehearsed what to say over and over again in her head, but at the same time, it was over far too quickly.

All Susanna knew about the man in the gray suit was his name and the address of his office, and she instantly felt foolish for what she was about to do. Nevertheless, she got off the elevator on the fifty-fifth floor and walked calmly down the hall where she announced herself to the secretary. She was sent down another hallway, around another corner, where she was told to wait by a second secretary who watched the clock above her as it ticked by.

When the clock struck precisely two, and not a second before or after, the old woman–who wore a wool suit in spite of the heat–finally waved her through. Susanna trembled as she walked into an incredibly large office with views of the Hudson River on one side and the East River on the other. It was a long walk to the desk, behind which was sitting none other than her long lost train companion. He looked up at her and watched as she walked across the room until she stood in front of his desk.

“Can I help you?” he asked without so much as a smile. Susanna tried not to throw up and somehow managed to blush only slightly. “I saw your name on my schedule, but I didn’t recognize it.”

“Why did you agree to see me then?” she asked, realizing they had never heard each other’s voices. His was deep and rich with a slight French accent as if he had come to this country a long time ago but still dreamed of the streets of Paris and his forgotten childhood.

“Again, how can I help you?” he asked, avoiding her question easily.

“Do you remember me?” she finally forced herself to ask. She had planned a far better speech, and yet if he didn’t even know who she was, maybe it was for naught.

“I do,” he said, with a hint of a grin. “Now that I see you at least. Susanna.”

“I’m honestly not sure I know why I came, or even why I discovered your name in the first place, but I suppose it was to ask you a question.”

“And what question is that?” he asked, still offering her nothing at all that might let her learn if he was happy to see her or merely humoring her until he could get her out of his office without causing a scene.

Susanna took a deep breath and focused on the one thing she most desperately wanted to know. Oh, she had prepared a hundred question from asking him to dinner, to demanding her take her right there, but this one she kept returning to, and she realized if she learned nothing else, she must learn this.

“Why didn’t you take me?” she finally asked. “I mean, on the train, when I so clearly was ready, why didn’t you do it? I offered myself to you so blatantly. In fact, I was surprised by my own audacity, and yet you did nothing.”

He looked at her for a long time, nodding his head as she spoke, before finally standing up. He was taller than she remembered, and his suit on this occasion was blue instead of gray. But his eyes were the same, and his white hair was thick and combed back making him both appear young and old at the same time.

He walked around the desk until he stood directly in front of her with less than two feet of space between them. Leaning back, he crossed his arms in front of him as Susanna stood in silence looking into his eyes. They remained there for a long while, and she instantly remembered losing their staring competition on the train.

“Tell me, have you thought about that afternoon since you arrived in New York?”

“Of course, many times,” she said, feeling not the slightest hint of embarrassment. It was apparent she had, or she would not have been there.

“And when you make love to your husband, have you ever thought of me? Have you instead imagined it was me taking you rather than him?”

“I might have,” she said, instantly feeling a bit shyer. The man stood again, and stepped closer to her, raising her head up by one finger beneath her chin. When she looked up at his handsome face, he gently slid his hand down her body, caressing her breast through the thin fabric before continuing down to her hip, and then the outside of her thigh. She held her breath as he lifted her dress, his hand slipping beneath it in an instant.

“And have you made yourself come thinking about me?”

“Yes,” she moaned, feeling his fingers brush ever so slightly against her now smooth lips.

“How many times?” he asked, still barely touching her.

“A hundred? A thousand? I don’t remember,” she said, her breath growing short as she parted her legs for him, giving him more access to her body. He extended one finger, gently parting her folds just enough for him to feel her excitement, and she shivered at his touch.

“I have also thought about you,” he said, his hand no longer moving, but still touching her skin. “I have also come thinking of you, and I too have fucked my wife, bent over in our bathroom, her dress around her back, as I pictured you on the train. I have imagined taking you a thousand times, each time with more force than the last, and it always ends the same way, which is to say with the beautiful visage of your fingers between your legs, playing with what I left behind.”

She pushed against his fingers, needing more of his touch, but even his lips barely brushed her ear while he whispered to her. Reaching down she found him hard beneath his suit pants, and she reveled in feeling his manhood against her fingers even through the fabric. She remembered its size and shape correctly, and she longed for him to be inside her more than she had ever wanted anything in her life.

“Does that answer your question?” he said, finally removing his hand, eliciting a sigh of regret from her lips. “If we had followed through with what we both wanted, it would have been a fun and scandalous memory, but one that would soon have been forgotten. If there is one thing I’ve learned when it comes to excitement, anticipation is a better aphrodisiac than any oyster or bottle of champagne. If I had taken you, you wouldn’t be here right now, practically coming against my hand, and I certainly wouldn’t be making plans to see you again soon.”

“But can’t you take me now?” she said, no longer caring how wanton she might sound. Or desperate. For her entire life, she had been told that postponing pleasure was a foolish thing to do, and Nicholas encouraged her to do exactly as she wished whenever she felt like it. It might be fun to hold back for a moment, but it had been weeks since she had seen this man, and wasn’t that long enough?

“I have another appoint in just a few minutes, but let me take you out in three days' time.”

“Three days? But that sounds like forever,” she said, practically throwing herself at him. “I’m not sure that I can wait.”

“In three days I will send a car at exactly ten in the evening, and I’ll bring you to an event I think will be much to your liking. And besides, if the anticipation of possibly seeing each other has kept us going this long, just imagine what it will feel like to know that without a doubt, in three days' time I will finally be inside you.”

“Do you promise?” Susanna asked, stepping closer and kissing his lips gently. He gave in to her after a moment of rebuff, and for a brief while they tasted each other as he wrapped her up in his arms, his prodigious member hard against her stomach. When he finally released her it was with regret, and yet also determination.

“I must go now, but I promise that in three days' time you will experience a new and glorious pleasure. In fact, it is a passion that is a well-kept secret, and I implore you to remain silent about it, even before you know anything of its nature. Do you understand?’

“Not at all,” Susanna said with a smile. “But maybe it doesn’t matter. I will wait three days if you promise to send a car and promise that when I do see you again, you will not be so cruel as the last time.”

“The only cruelty would have been to satisfy our wants too quickly, not allowing ourselves the beautiful longing I know at least I have felt these past few weeks. I will see you soon, now please see your way out.”

With that, he picked up his hat and a small case from his desk and walked to a side door before pausing one more time.

“Oh, and Susanna, I must ask you one more favor. Between now and when I see you again, you are not to find any release, even with yourself. This is of the utmost importance. Thank you and have a good evening.”

He closed the door behind him, leaving her standing in the now empty room with knees that could barely hold her up. For a moment she considered sitting down at his desk and making herself come right then, as it would surely show him what happens when you tease a woman like Susanna. And yet, she didn’t, her body seemingly immobile as she considered his words. She couldn’t remember the last time she had gone so much as an afternoon without making herself come, and that was before her husband even entered the picture. Going three whole days felt impossible, and yet somehow the challenge quickly grew more and more enticing until she convinced herself that to fail would be unacceptable.

Leaving his desk with a sigh of resignation, she returned to the door, said goodbye to his secretary, walked down the hall, and found the elevators once more. Even the motion of her skirt against her skin was suddenly arousing, and she felt that if she closed her eyes, she could still feel his fingers against her.

It was going to be an impossible three days!

When she finally returned to the street far below, she looked about to see if she might catch her Frenchman as he got into a cab. Seeing as he was not to be found, she instead hailed one herself, knowing there was only one place she could go at a time like this. She got into the first taxi that stopped, and directed him up the West Side towards Columbus Circle, knowing that she needed Simone more than anything else in the world.