The First Adventure Part 1

It was about six months into my pregnancy when it happened.

It being one of the memorable sexual adventures in almost a year bereft of sexual adventures.

It was a Friday night and Hubby was coming back from Paris to spend the weekend – and bringing a colleague of his with him. Apparently this guy, Laurent, was going to be moving to the London office and wanted to get a lay of the land and scope out some accommodation first.

So feeling fat and unattractive (even though Hubby promised my early pregnancy bulge was beautiful) I drove to Waterloo station and picked them up when their Eurostar came in.

Hubby came staggering down the platform, looking wrinkled and disheveled in the same suit he’d been wearing for most of the week. And behind him, straight-spined and elegantly dressed, was a deliciously handsome Frenchman.

I knew he was French from the moment I saw him. He was wearing a sharp suit, pulling a suitcase along behind him prissily on wheels. Olive complexion, slicked back, luxurious salt-and-pepper hair. Perhaps a little short and skinny, but definitely an attractive proposition.

I gave Hubby a hug as they loaded their bags into the car and then he introduced me.

“Darling, this is Laurent.”

“Enchante,” The charming man gave me two kisses on each cheek, his cologne filling my nostrils. I swooned.

We drove back home down the M3, Laurent sitting upfront and Hubby snoozing in the back. Laurent made idle conversation. He was charming – mentioned what a ‘glow’ I had and how attractive pregnant women where. I blushed furiously.

When we got back home, I gave the boys a few moments to freshen up and dutifully put the Marks and Spencers in the oven.

Laurent came down in jeans and a shirt, bearing gifts in the form of a bottle of Claret and some pungent French cheeses. I told him I couldn’t have either, because I was preggers.

“Nonsense,” he sounded very authoritative and snotty. “Pregnant women have been drinking wine and eating soft cheese in France for generations.”

That’s probably why they’re all so short!

Hubby eventually came down too, dressed more casually and with a look on his face I can only describe as ‘shit-eating.’ He popped open the wine and we ate and drank enthusiastically.

It was pretty late to be dining (we didn’t get back from the station until nine o’clock) so it was almost midnight by the time we finished – and hubby convinced us to go into the sitting room to continue chatting.

Laurent sat on the sofa, still sipping his first glass of wine (I have since learnt that the French aren’t as big drinkers as we boozy Brits would like to think.)

Hubby suggested the After Eights and a snifter of Scotch, so I was dispatched to the kitchen to get them.

It was while I was in there, stretching up on tip-toes to grab the Glenmorangie from the top shelf, when I felt Hubby’s hot hands encircle my waist.

He kissed my neck.

“Did you miss me?” I cooed, nuzzling back at him and sticking out my bottom so it ground against his crotch. Although the week without him had been lonely, I guess it’s true. Absence really does make the heart grow fonder.

But just as I was feeling warm and rosy in the bask of husbandly affection, I heard a familiar jingle. There was the softness of leather around my throat.

I pushed him back… Hubby had just slipped my ‘collar’ around my throat.

“This is hardly the time…” I opened my mouth to protest, but Hubby pressed his finger to my lips.

“The collar’s on, Little Kitty Slave,” he hissed. “And you know what that means…”

I wish I could tell you that I bowed my head and dutifully became the submissive little slut I promised to be whenever he put the collar on me, but of course I didn’t. I was tired and felt fat and unattractive. There was a virtual stranger next door. The last thing I felt like doing was playing some kinky sex game with my Hubby. I’d have rather he’d just made love to me normally.

But a firm ‘spank’ on my butt eventually convinced me to at least play the part.

“What do you want?” I demanded, reluctantly adding ‘Master’ afterwards.

Hubby gazed into my eyes with a sexy intensity.

“You’re going to go next door,” he growled huskily, “and give Laurent the blowjob of his life.”