We live near an international airport. It is frequented by businessmen who travel from all over the world, do their business in our city, and then leave. The usual way is they fly in Sunday night, work Monday to Thursday and fly out Friday afternoon to go home. Around the airport are several hotels. I spend a few weeks on a recce of the hotels. Discover the best one frequented by the wealthiest travellers. It has a five star restaurant open to the public with a fine little pub where diners can retire after dinner or wait for dinner tables to become available.

I book two rooms adjoining for my wife and I. The best day I see for getting at these businessmen is a Thursday evening. The hard work is done. Friday is just for finishing up work to travel home. Their minds are already on the aeroplane flight home and some rest for the weekend. So Thursday evenings they tend to spend more money and drink a bit more.

Our booking is for a Thursday night. I kit my wife out in kind of expensive athleisure wear favoured by wealthy businesspeople after hours. It is a cargo pants style bum scrunch legging, a tight fitted top that accentuates her small waist and stretches taut over her breasts and some expensive sneakers. Hair loose. For my part, I dress in my work suit,but do not wear the jacket. Instead I loosen the tie and roll up my shirt sleeves. I havemy attache case with my laptop and some documents. It's all an act.

19h00 is the usual dinner time rush, so I arrive early, choose a nice seat on a corner where I can see everything. I set up my laptop and order a Coke. I take out some documents and "prepare" for a meeting. I text my wife that all is ready. She comes down in her athleisure outfit about 15 minutes later. In the meantime, I take time to carefully scope out who is in the restaurant, in particular single men who are clearly businessmen types. Either still in their suit (though loosened like mine) or in some sort of athleisure outfit.

Wife enters the restaurant, I see her, and wave, but make careful note to see who looks at her while she walks in. With her small upperbody and her broad hips, fat bottom and thicc thighs she has a way of walking which is intoxicating. Her hips sway and her bottm follows theslowl rhythm sashaying alongfrom side to side like the leaves of a palm tree in a gentle tropical breeze. I made sure she'd have to walk with her back to the restaurant to get to me. I count at least five heads turning and eyes staring at this sensual appirition making her way through the tables to get to me.

She seats next to me so that she faces the restaurant. I rise and make an act of greeting her formaslly with a handshake. She makes a point of looking bored but greeting me formally too. No touching.

The waiter arrives. She orders white wine and I order a Coke.

We immediately discuss which ones were openly looking. I pretend to do stuff on the laptop. She carefully scopes the "biters" and actually identifies at least one more trying to make eye contact but appear unobtusive.

We pretend to work. I pretend to show her things on the laptop. We act the part. I appear to be someone showing her things on the laptop work related and she appears to take disinterested notice of what I am doing. In the meantime she starts to look at the men who watched her as she walked in, studying each to see which suits her the best. She picks up on two who repeatedly stare at her and then look away. She orders dinner. I help her check the guys out. Once one is finished he leaves. The other matches my wife and orders white wine.She matches his looks by pretending to look around the room and then making eye contact. She holds his eye contact for a moment and then looks away.

Dinner arrives. I keep talkng. Our one man rises and leaves. He furtively glances at her while he does. We have one definite left. Wife spends the meal pretending to thoughtfully look away while I pretend to talk. Whenever he looks at her she holds his gaze for a second and then looks back to her food. I keep watching him though. He does the same. Once she looks away he keeps staring at her. When he looks away I tell her and she looks back at him. We are both very excited and I can sense it with her.

Are you hard?

I can't, I'm wearing a chastity thing remember.

I forgot. Does it hurt?

It does. My cock keeps trying to get hard.

My panties are soaked.

My cock is dripping precum like a wet pussy.

The waiter fetches her plate.

She asks for another glass of wine and orders dessert. Her would be paramour also orders dessert. He pours himself a glass from his wine bottle. While doing so he markedly look at her. The waiter brings her glass. She looks up, makes eye contact with him, gives him a small smile and raises her glass at him. He reciprocates but smiles more broadly, white teeth bared to contrast against his black skin.

Their dessert arrives at the same time. 

I close the laptop and start to put away my documents in the attache. I order another Coke. I note him turning his bottle upside down in the ice cooler. A universal sign that the bottle is empty. She finishes her dessert and gets up, signs the bill off to her room and takes her now empty wine glass to the bar counter. 

This is the test.

He passes. With a casual flip of his hand to the waiter he calls for the bill, taps his lips wth the napkin and rises. He heads straight for the bar and takes a place next to her. They're standing facing each other and I immediately see the chemistry as she breaks into a smile and offers her hand. A little while later they chat animatedly. Another bottle of wine arrives. Both take seat on the bar tools and face each other. My wife leans slightly forward, wine glass held to the side of her temple, cocks her head and nods at what he says. Her breasts strain against the thin fabric of her top. He leans forward and whispers something to her, and she giggles... I hear her say:

Oh no he's ot anything of mine. Just an employee.

She looks in my direction and motions with the wine glass. On the counter she sets her key card for her hotel room, her wallet and mobile phone.

My que to go. I rise and walk past them, I greet her formally.

Goodnight Ms X, see you tomorrow at the office.

She doesn't acknowldge me.

I hear her say...

Really? You're in banking... I'm also from the financial services industry but not from Kenya obviously.

As I walk away the conversation fades from earshot.

I make sure the man (I now call him The Kenyan) is not looking in my direction. Slip into the hotel lobby and into an open lift. To my room. Lock the door.

Strip naked.

I have a pair of noise canceling earphones out of my cupboard, get the laptop set up and open the WhatsApp app.

Grab a seat in front of the mirror with the laptop open. The only thing on me is the chastity cage, holding my cock tight and soft.. squished up and small. It throbs with excitement.

 And now I wait.

In the earphones, I hear my own heart thundering, sense my short breaths struggling to quickly fill my excited lungs. My ears roar with the silence of blood coursing by the racing beat of my heart.

 It rings. I press answer but keep quiet. Hear the conversation. Noise of the bar. She has it hiddden in het side pocket.

... and that's why I come here every week to work and fly back for weekends.

It must be so hard on you.

It's very lonely, and sometimes, like tonight, actually every Thurday, I let me hair down a bit. The week is over and tomorrow I go home to rest. Are you married?

I was, but we're apart now.

 A lovely woman lke you is single?

Yes

I am surprised men would leave you alone.

I work a job with long hours.

As do we all.

And what are you doing here... waiter.. a bottle of Chardonnay please... completely shilled... in an ice bucket

Just up for business. That guy with me is the company legal guy. He had to go through things with me, but it's boring things I have to hear because of my position. So I literally came here to meet him, have a briefing tomorrow on compliance and then I fly back home.

I here is the wine. Care to join me in my room for a few glasses Madam?

I can't say no to such a gentlemanly request sir.

My arm is yours.