My day at the practice seemed to drag on and on. I had trouble concentrating on the needs of my patients because my mind was stuck on the conversation with Kayla that morning.

All day long, I made sure to tell my medical assistants how much I appreciated them because they played a big part in keeping things together. I never lost my professionalism, though. When speaking to a patient, I made sure that my attention was completely on them. If there ever came a time that I couldn’t focus, at least when a patient was in front of me, I’d reschedule their appointment before giving them less than stellar care.

Still, I counted down the hours until my last appointment had come and gone. My last patient was still at the front desk scheduling his next appointment as I was slipping out the back door and heading for home.

Once again, the house was eerily quiet when I returned home; the silence is more pronounced than it had on the previous day. Inside the fridge, there was no dinner waiting for me like there had been the day before. There were also no notes left behind for me to read. The differences that 24 hours made were like night and day.

I made a sandwich and picked at it for a while before deciding that I just wasn’t very hungry. My stomach was tied in knots, and although I knew I needed to eat something, I couldn’t make myself choke anything down. Anything, that is, except for a cold bottle of beer. I grabbed one of those out of the fridge and savored the taste. It went down smooth. Before the night was over, I’d go through plenty more than just that one bottle.

Kayla told me that morning that we could talk about everything the next day, but there was no way I could let it drag on that long. I may have been mentally exhausted, but I was going to be waiting up for her when she got home from work if I had to tape my eyes open.

I tried to find something to keep myself busy. I flipped through the television, thumbed through a magazine, took a hot shower, and drank more beer, but I wasn’t able to focus on anything else. My mind kept focusing on one thing: the fact that Kayla was in a workplace that was almost entirely men.

She was mad at me, but mad probably wasn’t a word that would do what she was feeling justice. She was furious and probably confused as well. I wondered if she talked to any of the guys she worked with about the problems we were having. I wonder if she mentioned to any of the men about how her husband dropped the bombshell that he wanted her to sleep with other men.

When I closed my eyes, I could picture just that happening. An attractive man giving a listening ear while she spilled her emotions out. I could hear him telling her how crazy it was and how if she were his, he would never dream of letting her be with anyone else. He could tell her that she was beautiful and start the process of moving in on my territory.

Of course, it could have gone the other way as well. She could have shared what I told her, and some other man could use that to his advantage. Perhaps he would tell her that even though it sounded crazy, maybe they should do exactly what her husband wanted her to do.

I could almost see the lust in her eyes as I imagined him whispering into her ear that she should meet him out in the parking lot on their lunch break. I pictured him leading her out to his vehicle, most likely some kind of pickup truck, and being all over her in the cab.

There would be lots of kissing, touching, groping, and exploring. In a moment of confusion and weakness, she’d allow him to slip his hand into her panties while she used her own to feel the bulge forming in his jeans.

Before long, he would have her shirt over her head, unclasping her bra and taking her perfect, hard nipples into his mouth, sucking and nibbling on them just the way she likes. He would then direct her head down to his crotch, releasing his cock and encouraging Kayla to take it into her mouth.

Finally, nice and hard, he would help her shimmy out of her jeans before positioning her on his lap. With her arms wrapped around his neck, she would slide herself down his thick shaft, feeling his hardness while her wet slit gripped onto him. She would grind her hips as she took him all the way in, starting slowly and getting faster, both of them moving rhythmically.

She would be looking directly into his eyes, her moans filling the inside of his vehicle as she moved faster and faster, bringing herself closer to orgasm as she moved. At the same time, she could feel him beginning to swell inside of her.

Bucking her hips faster and faster, she gets herself off, which leads to her already tight pussy clamping down on him, squeezing the cum right out of him. With a shudder, she would kiss him before raising herself off of him, slipping her panties and jeans back on.

For the remainder of the day, she would walk around the factory with him leaking out of her, a constant reminder of what she had done. Would this disgust her or make her want more?

Even though this would be considered cheating and wasn’t at all what I wanted when I said I wanted her to sleep with someone else, I was completely aroused. My cock was rock hard as my hand found my way into my pants, gripping it and stroking it up and down.

I wanted to throw my pants off and jerk off while thinking of all the possibilities of what my wife could be doing, but I stopped myself. I needed to have a clear mind when Kayla came home, and if I took care of myself right then, the conversation later might not seem as important. Even worse, it would probably relax me and cause me to fall asleep, which was the last thing I wanted. I needed to get us on the same page, and the longer it took for us to talk, the harder it would be to get us there.

Instead, I got up and grabbed yet another beer from the fridge, allowing it to do its part to take the edge off and prepare me for what was to come.