The Rut Breaker
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Getting Out Of The Rut Chapter 9 free porn video
Carol leads the way
It took seconds to shut down my kit and in another minute there was a knock on the connecting door.
I rolled the dessert trolly to the door and opened it. Carol stood grinning at me.
“Your order ma’am,” I said. “I know this is kinda crazy but there’s a lot of food here that could go to waste. I... thought maybe you might need to get some energy back.” I glanced at Eddie as I said it, doing my best to look suggestively conspiratorial.
Eddie looked at me, I looked at him, he grinned.
“Too much noise?” he said.
“Probably cuts both ways,” I said, grinning back.
“Is that pavlova?” Carol said. She’s smart, my wife; that was enough to get us concentrating on the dessert trolley. It was a good thing that I'd had a few minutes to plan, it stopped me saying anything stupid. The last thing I did before I opened the door was to take off my wedding ring and stuff it in a pocket. I'd noticed on the video that Eddie wasn't wearing one but he had certainly mentioned a wife. Carol was wearing hers, as she had on all the videos I'd seen of her playing away.
"Shame about your partner having to go," said Eddie. "Will she be coming back?"
"I’m not sure," I said. "She’s been called away to tend to some business problem— you know how it is. I’ll see her tomorrow for sure and maybe tonight if I’m lucky."
"Don’t give up hope," said Carol. "You never know how long these things are going to take."
"Too right," I said. "I never know."
"Good of you to share this," said Eddie. I watched him piling calories onto his plate, making it pretty obvious why he was chubby.
"What will you do while you wait?"
I knew Carol was teasing me. "I dunno, maybe I'll try that bar across the street."
"If you're looking for more action," said Eddie, "The place at the end of the block is better."
A flash of surprise crossed Carol's face but she recovered fast. "Eddie knows this town," she said.
"Thanks, buddy," I said. "Maybe I will check that out, mind you I wouldn't want to find too much action. I wouldn't want to keep you guys awake."
I didn't dare look directly at Carol, would she say that Eddie wasn't staying? I turned to where the bottles were to refill my glass, catching a side view of them both in the mirror. I saw a look of horror on Eddie's face as Carol started to speak. He clearly didn't want the conversation to include him.
"No danger of that," Carol said. "Once Eddie's in his bed he might as well be on another planet."
For a second I was lost in admiration for my wife's quick thinking. Eddie relaxed.
"I think I will try that bar," I said, pushing the trolley into their room. "Leave the rest in the corridor, the staff will pick it up. I shoved the thing forward, smiled at them both and shut the door. I heard their door shut.
I turned on the sound again, made sure it was patched to my phone and headed out. It did cross my mind that I was crazy. I could have slammed the door and stayed put, but what the hell, I could still listen to them or catch them on video.
The bar was a half a block away and easy to spot. One thing for sure I was only going to be a spectator in whatever might be going on, I was still wearing the cage, so active participation in anything naughty was never likely. Carol knew that but Eddie didn't. I figured a trip out for a while would allow them to finish off their evening. I knew Eddie had to go home, so Carol should be free before long.
The place was sparsely filled; some guys hanging on the bar and a few couples at tables. There was some good jazz playing. I settled myself into a corner table where I could take in the whole scene and sat with a drink. I had my phone on the table and listened through a Bluetooth earbud.
The marvels of modern technology enable things I'd never have dreamed of as a kid. The camera on the suitcase rack in room 401 was transmitting to the internet via the WiFi dongle I had set up in room 403. That got the pictures and sound to my web site at home and my phone picked it up from there.
Two weeks ago I knew all that was possible, at least in theory but the idea of actually using stuff like that seemed about as likely in my life as going to the moon— which as we know is also possible but doesn't happen a lot. It is astonishing how motivating your wife screwing around can be.
As soon as I'd left, Eddie was desperate to have one more go, so the pair of them stripped again. He was as bad as ever and after five minutes of boredom, Carol insisted on sucking him off with a finger in his arse to make sure. Twenty minutes later he was dressed and on the way home.
I watched Carol stroll around the room naked for a few minutes. She sat on the edge of the bed, legs splayed, facing the camera that I was watching. She must have known the thing was there; her pose looked so deliberate. She sat spooning the last of the pavlova, sliding it into her mouth playing with the spoon as though she was sucking cock. After four spoonfuls she flicked what was left when her tongue had finished towards the camera. She missed but the message was clear.
After that, she dressed, slowly and seductively.
"You're a way better fuck than Eddie," she said, leaning over the camera and dangling her tits at me.
She eased herself into a skirt, followed by a blouse. She did the buttons up from the bottom, gradually taking more time over each as she covered her braless breasts. When she'd reached what should have been the right place to stop she gave the camera a long look and then undid the last button. After that, she gave the thing a quizzical look and lifted her skirt to take off her panties. She hung them over the case obscuring the hole that the camera was looking through.
A minute later I heard the door close. Did that mean she was on her way to this bar, or somewhere else or in room 403? I sat there for a minute in a total panic. Had Carol not understood what I was doing? Had she decided to have some fun on her own because Eddie was so hopeless?
For that minute my brain left me. I reached out to pick up my drink but my hand was shaking so much that I didn't risk actually picking it up. I killed the app on the phone because there was no point in watching an empty bed through Carol's panties. If it had been for real, well who knows but through a hole in a suitcase, it seriously lacked fun.
I made an effort to calm down, deep breathing, closed my eyes for half a minute, leant back in the chair and stretched my elbows back as far as they would go.
Stop, think. Whatever she does she's going to go back to our rooms at some time tonight. The world isn't ending. It took another minute before I remembered the phone tracker— if she had her phone with her I could find her. Okay, that's a backup plan. I could afford to wait a while. Another minute of deep breathing and I was steady enough to pick up the drink. One slow swallow. Good. What now? How long did it take me to walk here? Six, maybe eight minutes. How long since she left?
For a second my mind was blank. That's the thing about panic attacks, you lose track of time. When did I shut off the camera? I opened the app— six minutes ago. Okay, take another drink and keep an eye on the door. If she's coming she'll be here in two minutes, maybe three, she's in heels. If she doesn't show in five I'm turning on the tracker.
She appeared after four minutes, walked in very cool and slow, eyeballed the whole room and made her way to a table four over from mine. She completely ignored me. She sat with that irritated, where the hell is he, look on her face so it was only a matter of time before one of these guys at the bar tried to hit on her.
I started to get up but she gave me a look and made a motion with her hand that said 'Sit,' as though I was a dog. Okay, I thought, she's playing games. I'm sitting here in a cock cage and she's over there with no knickers on. Great. How did I get myself into this?
A text appeared on my phone.
"Call you in a minute. Listen and do nothing."
From my seat in the corner, it would have been hard for anyone to be sure of where I was looking and all spare eyes were on Carol now. I think there was some chatter in the group at the bar, one daring another to go talk to her no doubt but they were beaten to it by a single guy who unhooked himself from the end of the bar and sauntered over to Carol. She could see him coming and hit speed dial before he was near. My phone lit up and I'd hit the connection before he made it to the table.
"You look a little irritated," he said. "Would a drink help?"
"It might," she said. "What would you be drinking?"
"Can you guess?"
"Maybe a bourbon?"
"Smart lady."
"Be a darling and get two fresh ones."
Neat line I thought, all he has to do is say yes to whatever she suggests and he makes her look clever. She is clever, but he wasn't to know that. On the other hand, he had left a glass on the bar that did look a lot like bourbon. He was back in a minute but by then she'd flashed me a smile and I felt better.
I know I've read a dozen cuckold stories where the husband sits exactly like I was doing. In some of them, he and the wife have a way to agree on any stud that turns up and in other stories they don.'t. I started to wonder what story I was in.
The guy was back with the drinks in a minute, set them on the table and pulled up a seat. Carol grinned at him and switched the glasses.
"Can't be too careful," she said. He had his back to me by then so I don't know if it phased him but it must have given him a clear message not to try anything fancy.
"Nice anklet," He said.
"Mmmm, my husband bought it."
"Is he the guy who's running late?"
She gave him a long look.
"That's not the most entertaining small talk," she said. "It might make me think you wanted to do something my husband wouldn't approve of. Have you had a problem with husbands before?"
She's showing off, I thought, she's telling me she's not a pushover— she was for Dean, but that's water under the bridge. I had to hope this was a new wised up Carol.
The guy laughed. Nothing raucous, a fairly confident reflex chuckle with a tiny hint of nervousness, like the guy was keen to hang in there but getting a little hint that it wasn't going to be easy.
"So tell me," Carol said. "Were the wives happy?"
"Oh sure." Obviously getting back onto safe ground.
"And were the husbands grateful?"
"Grateful?"
"Well you know, some guys know they can't do it for their wives and they're grateful someone can. Is that you?"
"That's hard to say."
"Did you look at my anklet carefully?"
That put the guy on the spot. Clearly, there was more to it than see the anklet and screw the hotwife.
"Sorry," Carol said. "I'm not being fair. My husband bought it for me and that's his heart on there, well and truly fixed on. That's a message."
"Go on," said the guy, a slight feather in the baritone now.
"My husband knows I sometimes look for fun, but he's cagey about who gives it to me. The last guy showed no respect and it didn't go well for him."
"You chucked him over?"
"Oh no, I enjoyed him a lot but he insulted my husband and that's not a good idea."
"What happened?" The guy was doing well, sounding curious but ten per cent of him sounded ready to run.
"David got him fired." David's not my name, clever, though I'd answer to Dave if I had to. I wished I could see the guy's face. What I thought about was how Dean and Jay must have felt when they got fired. It must have been hell.
Walking in on a snowy Wednesday morning and having to clear your desk, right then, out of the building, probably with security at your elbow and out into the cold. Hell. I felt like a shit for having done that to them. There was Carol boosting me up and I'm sitting there a few tables away, almost within earshot, feeling like a worm for doing something so awful to a couple of guys that I didn't really know.
I guess Carol was trying to make me feel good, or maybe she was simply keeping him in line.
"Your husband must be quite a guy."
Carol grinned. I think the smile was meant for me.
"So how come you're here?"
"Curiosity, window shopping, you know what women are like. We have to try things on even when we're not going to buy."
"How far does trying on go?"
I had to admire that one.
"Good question," Carol said. "First it would be necessary to get a good look at the merchandise, feel the quality, size it up— the size I want might not be in stock."
I was dragged along by this banter. The idea was nudging into the back of my mind that I was being properly cuckolded, that Carol was about to leave me hanging around and caged while she took this complete stranger off to give her what she hadn’t gotten from Eddie. Was she getting her own back for my picture gallery stunt?
I fought down the worry and angst, well more accurately I held it in check; kept telling myself this was a game, she’d made me listen on the phone, she was dragging me into the game. It would have been easy to let Eddie go home and the two of us could have had reclaim sex there and then in our room. Sure, we could have done that but maybe that was too close to sinking back into the rut, at least for her.
"Is there someplace we could go," the guy said, "you know, to get a closer look at the merchandise, maybe try something on."
"I'm not sure," Carol said. "I do have a hotel room but that could be awkward."
"Is your husband there?"
Carol laughed. "Oh no, but he's very clever, I think he may have bugged the room."
"Naah," said the guy. "That's not possible. How could he do that? He's just got you feeling paranoid."
"I don't think so. He's very clever and he has connections. Do you have a place?"
I didn't like the way this was going but he hesitated.
"I do have a room..."
"But your wife is in it?" Carol chuckled and I felt a weight lifted off me. Would she have gone with him or was she just teasing me? I took another swig of my drink and let it linger in my mouth for a moment. I had to get my brain in gear, stop the emotional surges and relax. This was Carol's game. I kept telling myself that. I was the audience, Carol was the player.
I picked up my glass again and this time I swallowed the whiskey in one gulp, letting it burn it's way down, forcing a new sensation. I had to admire what Carol was doing. A few days ago I'd blown her world to bits. She'd worn a chastity belt all day, milked it to get an extra sale, put up with Eddie's fumbling and yet here she was playing this guy and me both at once.
It wasn't only her smile that made me marry her. The big mystery was why she married me. I kept coming back to that— I had to raise my game. Part of it might be letting Carol fuck other guys. I'd never been someone who was turned on by that. I know some are, but on the other hand, if she wasn't going to leave, then why not? If it turned her on, if it gave her something extra, kept her out of the rut, then why not? How many times did I need to say that to myself before I believed it?
"You know when I was a girl, friends of mine used to get fucked in doorways, up against walls, on the grass in parks, I was jealous, I never had the nerve..."
"But you want to catch up?"
"It's cold outside so it would have to be quick."
Was she serious? Was she really going to fuck him in the street? Right then I was frightened, real gut melting fright. It was snowing outside, it was a city street, people walk by, okay they're bundled up against the cold, maybe not looking too closely at anyone around them— but in the street?
I watched spellbound as Carol downed her drink and stood up. She took the guy's hand.
"What alias do you use when you're cheating on your wife?"
"Huh?"
"I have to call you something. I can't be saying, 'hey stranger that I met in a bar I do like what you're doing'. It doesn't work, does it? I could call you Fred, but that doesn't sound very romantic. Tex, what about Tex? I'll call you Tex."
"How..."
Carol giggled. "You've still got your conference badge on."
Carol linked arms with him and began to lead him out of the bar. "Did you have a coat?"
Tex reached toward a coat on the rack near the door. Carol grabbed it and wrapped it around herself. "Thanks."
I let them get through the door, counted to ten, finished my drink calmly, not wanting to look like I'd suddenly made a decision about something. I left my earbud in place, strolled over to the door and picked up my coat. It was actually snowing outside.
I could see the two of them walking along the street, heading in the direction of the hotel. I could have followed their tracks even if I couldn't see them. With an inch of snow on the ground already, footsteps made no sound. I crossed the road and strolled along, fifty yards behind Carol and Tex.
I had no idea what Carol had done with her phone; one thing for sure was that I shouldn't hang up. If this performance was at least partly for me then I needed to make sure I didn't miss anything.
They ducked into a doorway a little further down the street, still on the opposite side of the road to the hotel and away from the brightest of the neon lights. When they were deep in the doorway I could only see vague figures. I don't know whether that was better or worse. I eased into a sheltered spot almost opposite them and was glad I had a dark coat and a decent hat. Occasional snowflakes drifted in but I figured I could survive for a while.
On the other side of the road, the two figures were one dim outline, bulkier towards the floor. It didn't take a lot to imagine that Carol was on her knees. I was tempted for a second to find out for real how exposed Tex must feel if she was doing what I thought she was.
"Oh God," I heard him grunt— so that settled it she was using her mouth. It seemed to me like the wind was getting up a little and I was definitely cooling down, not exactly brass monkey weather but getting close. Tex might not have a coat like mine but he had something warm enveloping his most vulnerable parts. He didn't last long.
"Are your fingers cold?" Carol said.
"Kind of."
"I know a warm place."
That was a hell of an invitation. I could see her stand up and I guessed her skirt must be up and his hands were somewhere wet and warm. After all the outrageous flirting she'd been doing I was hoping that she'd come soon. I wanted her back in our room, I wanted to warm her up and show my appreciation of her amazing performance.
I could bore you with the moans and encouraging noises but you can guess. I huddled in my doorway watching up and down the street, looking for trouble. I had my phone out trying to catch something with the camera every time a car went past. In the dim light with snow falling it was hard to tell if I'd gotten anything but at least it kept my mind on something other than feeling jealous and angsty.
I guess times gets slowed down by the cold, it sure felt like that but eventually, I saw them break up. Carol gave Tex his coat and ran across the road to the hotel. I watched him head back towards the bar and then made my way to our rooms.
Which room, that was the question. One way to make an intelligent guess was to see what the cameras were showing, apart from the unfortunate fact that one might still have Carol’s panties over the lens and the other was under the bed. They did have sound.
I hung around in the lobby for a couple of minutes and didn’t pick up anything from room 401. Either Carol was in 403, or maybe in the bar. I tried listening to her phone— bar room noises. I dashed to the elevator, ran to the room and did a quick change.
Two minutes later, I strolled into the bar in jeans and a leather jacket trying to look as cool as I knew how. It took two seconds to see Carol, sitting at a table, legs crossed so that her anklet was in plain view. I kept my eyes on the bar and because I'd changed I don't think she recognised me right away. I got to the bar, ordered my favourite Wild Turkey and slowly turned, leaning on the bar, taking in the scene.
I watched a guy stroll over to Carol's table. It took all the nerve I had to wait it out and watch her face. She turned her phone off, or maybe it had run out of power, but unlike ten minutes ago, I was getting nothing through my earbud. I had a clear enough view of Carol's face.
If it looked like she was about to have a good time I'm not sure what I would have done— I was getting tired of the game, but fortunately, I saw her frown. I knew that look, a slight tensing of the muscles around her eyes, her face becoming slightly rigid, smile neutral and thin. She didn't approve, whatever line this guy was shooting it wasn't working.
I strolled over and took a seat at their table.
"Hey, who are you?" the guy said.
"Who are you?"
"I'm the one who asked first."
"I'm the one who married her first."
"She wearing an anklet."
"That he bought for me," Carol said.
"So?"
Carol smiled at him. "It's getting late, my husband picked up the vibe. If I'd be really turned on he'd have known to hang back. Blame me. I'm tired. Maybe another day."
The guy looked at Carol, back to me, back to Carol.
"Stay and finish your drink," I said. Nothing like being civilised.
"Yeah, maybe another night. You don't know what you're missing."
"I don't," said Carol. "I can't even begin to guess, but if it's really that good I'd need to be on top form and quite honestly I'm too tired."
"Tough night for you, huh," he said, turning to me as he got up to go.
"May... be," I said, drawing it out, "but the mornings are something else."
When he'd gone Carol leaned over and took my hand. "You okay?"
“No,” I said. “I’m barely alive. Don’t ever do that again. I've had the, scariest, most anxious night ever. I have no idea if I'm okay."
“I overdid it, huh? You weren’t turned on by all that?”
“Was I supposed to be?”
“Some guys are.”
“It turns out I’m not some guy.”
“So was it totally awful?” A worry creeping into her voice.
“No, no,” I said, “there were some things that were good.”
“Go on.”
“Seeing you scheming, drawing Eddie in, that was great. I was amazed by that.”
“Was it that obvious?”
I laughed. “Not to Eddie, that’s what was great about it. The same with Tex, you had him wrapped around your finger. It was like seeing a real pro at work— but that's scary too. I kept thinking I'd never be able to keep up— I'd be out of your league...”
She squeezed my hand harder. "Love, I was trying so hard to catch up with you. I thought I had to... had to be extra sexy— seductive— alluring— whatever you want to call it. If I was just a slut who likes to get fucked then I don't deserve you."
She stopped for a second.
“Seeing me being fucked wasn’t a turn on?”
“Seeing you is a turn on— always— and since this started you look better all around. I'd hate to lose that. Beyond that, I'm all over the place— if this is the price, can I cope with paying it? Half of the time I'm lost— but it feels so weak to say that. I feel good when I can see you're having fun but then it gets scary. What if I can't give you that kind of fun? Where does that take us— do we have to keep doing this? Will you end up realising that I'm second best and need more of... more of... whoever... It's even more scary when I don’t know what’s going to happen, when I really think I'm losing you.”
“So if you knew I was safe and always coming back...?”
“You could still find ways to scare the shit out of me. I have to work so hard at keeping my confidence up. I almost didn't come to the table just now.”
"I'd never turn you away. I was waiting for you to say you'd had enough."
"You waved me away in the bar down the road."
"Yeah, I did," she said, breathing out, almost sighing. She looked up at me. "I may have misjudged that. I'd come to your bar, I mean, I could have called you when Eddie left, but I thought you were still playing... I kept my phone on."
"So if I'd gotten up and come over?"
"I'd have known you'd had enough."
"Oh fuck."
"What?" This time there was real consternation in her voice.
"I need practice or this is going to end badly."
"What you need is a coach, someone who cares about you. You need the love of a good woman."
"That might do it."
"Where the hell are we gonna find one of those at this time of night?" She pulled me up, chuckling and kissing me at the same time and dragged me off to the sanctuary of our room.
Anastasia
- 09.02.2022
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