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Subject: {ASSM} Tonytony3's "A Voyeur's Wife's Story" 1/2 <*>
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From: tonytony3@juno.com
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Date: Wed, 8 Dec 1999 04:10:01 -0500
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--
Tonytony3's A Voyeur's wife 1/2
tonytony3@juno.com
This is a revision of an earlier story. It's been the most plagiarized
story I've written. I suppose that's the most sincere form of flattery.
A true story, except for the parts that aren't, as told to me by Barbara,
and now as retold
to you.
***********************************************************
Tom and I were childhood sweethearts, and were married while in grad
school, 7 years
ago. We have no kids, but do have two fast track careers here in Boston.
His is in
technology, and mine's in academia.
My name's Barbara.
This is my story, a story about a voyeur's wife.
This adventure started 2 months ago, when Tom and I arranged to meet
for dinner after
work. We planned on meeting at the Four Seasons. I got there 15 minutes
early. The extra
time was reason enough to start a conversation with a guy sitting a
stool away in the
lounge.
A half hour later I noticed my husband standing in the doorway.
I waved him over, introduced the guy, and then the two of us went to
dinner.
"How long were you waiting there by the door?"
"About 20 minutes."
"Well, why didn't you come over, for heaven's sake."
"It looked like you were having a good time, and I liked watching."
"Oh." I remembered this had happened before with him. We began talking of
other things
and had a nice evening.
On the drive home Tom asked "Did that guy - was his name Bill? - try to
date you?"
"No, we were just talking."
We talked about other things for the rest of the drive, but I began
worrying that Tom
thought I might be appearing too available to strangers, and that was
just not the fact. I
like everything about my husband and being married to him. It's the most
important part
of my life.
The next week we made another date for a Friday night dinner in town,
with the meeting
set for the Sheraton hotel. I thought Tom was late, until he appeared
from the back of the
bar.
"What were you doing, I was waiting for 15 minutes."
"I just like looking at you."
"Were you waiting to see if anyone tried to talk to me, or something?"
"I confess."
"Don't you trust me?"
"Of course I do. But it's kind of exciting watching you talk to guys in
places like this, I
guess maybe I'm a bit of a voyeur."
"Well, that's different". I was happy that it wasn't a trust thing after
all.
Later that night we were holding each other in bed - that's one of the
best parts of being
married, I think - and talking.
I brought up his bothersome behavior. "Tom, how come you try to watch
strangers
talking to me?"
I had my arm over his hips when I asked that - there was nothing going
on, just a married
couple in bed, being comfortable with each other.
But I felt his penis stir. "I guess it's because I think you're
beautiful, and I like knowing
other guys think you are, too."
Well, that's kind of an odd compliment. "They may not think that at all,
they may be just
trying to make conversation, or maybe make a date, or even pick me up."
His penis stirred more. "That would be OK, too."
Opps! What was that all about? I should explain we're a pretty straight
couple. I mean,
we've been faithful to each other forever, as best I knew, and our sex
life was, I thought,
great. We've done nearly everything two people can do to each other, and
I love all of it. I
love the touch of his hand, and his mouth, and his penis, anywhere -
everywhere - on me.
He knows how to drive me crazy with excitement - there's nothing I
wouldn't let him do -
and he's done most everything - to me. He goes crazy, too, when I do
things to him. I love
the taste of him, the taste of his mouth, and those other places I can
taste, and how excited
I can make him, and how sensitive and reactive he is to touches and
kisses and all of that.
Now I was beginning to understand something new about my husband. I took
the hand he
had on my hip, and moved it to my crotch, then grabbed his cock - it was
erect, now.
"Barbara, you're getting all warm!"
"Tom, you're getting all stiff."
We put the stiffness and warmness together, and made love. That's not
quite true. We
fucked. But this was different. We were face to face, him on top. I had
to ask. "Let me be
sure I understand. You get turned on when you think guys are trying to
pick me up."
He responded. "Yeah," as he pushed into me a little harder.
"Well, I've heard of men like you. You're some kind of voyeur."
"Yeah, maybe," with another hard push.
Oh, this was really getting to him! Was it another way to drive him crazy
with sex? I
played with the idea for a moment, and decided it was a harmless fanticy,
and thought I'd
use it on him. In a soft vooice, I almost mused, "I guess it would be
kind of nice having
someone pay that kind of 'are you single' attention to me, it's sort of
flattering." I closed
my eyes, and made little motions, little noises - pretending, but letting
him think what he
wanted.
He got hotter, harder!
"Uh, you think you'd like that?"
"Oh, Maybe. It might be nice if a guy tried to date me, or even try to
pick me when we're
out like that, once in a while. It would kind of make me feel like a
complete woman,
instead of a tenure track professor. It sure doesn't happen at Babson, or
when we're out
together." I added a little more motion, and another "mmmmmm".
His movements became a bit more urgent.
"I often wanted to ask you," he said, "but never could figure out how -
would you like to
go out to see if something like that would happen on purpose, instead of
accidentally,
like when you're waiting for me, like last time?"
His body was telling me it's something he was very interested in, that's
for sure. He was
offering me a license to flirt! No, he was encouraging me to. He was
serious about it, at
least now, while we were having sex. I couldn't let it get out of hand,
it was a scary
thought. I told him so. "Tom, I like being married to you, and I don't
have any experience
doing anything like that. The whole idea scares me."
"But I'd always be nearby. Nothing would happen that you didn't want to."
I decided to let him have his fanticy. "Well, maybe sometime, if it
happens, that'll be
OK," I said, "so long as we wind up here."
"Oh, we'd wind up here," he said, "no matter what happened."
The sex we were having ended then, for him, completely losing control.
That was fun!
The next day Tom came home from work - it was Friday - and told me he
found out the
Marriett in Newton was a place where singles our age went. "Let's go
there! You can
pretend to be single, or at least available, for a while."
Tom was moving this from pillow talk to action faster than I dreamed.
Somehow we, or maybe it was Tom only, decided to do it. We had a silent
drive along
Rt. 128: I felt a bit like I was being driven to my execution. Well, it
excited my husband,
and that was the payoff for me.
The hotel lounge was mobbed. It looked like most everyone stayed at the
bar, and guys
approached women, talked to them, danced, and tried to make dates. Or
make them, to
be more honest.
We parted at the doorway, and I went to the bar, feeling uncertain, in
strange waters, a bit
like a lamb being lead to the slaughter. After all, I had seriously dated
only one man in
my life, and married him. This was very new stuff.
In a while a couple of guys talked to me. One danced with me a few times.
I saw Tom
watching, and that made me both a little more comfortable, and
flirtatious. I once saw
Tom dancing with a nice looking woman.
A couple of hours went by, then Tom asked me to dance, too. We did, and
used that as
an excuse to leave together, not that anyone was keeping score, or
watching.
We talked on the way home. "I saw that guy dancing with you. Did he try
anything?"
"No, it was just a dance. He was a proper gentleman. You know, up until
today everyone
who danced with me knew us as a couple. These guys didn't know that,
they thought I
was available. That was an odd feeling. What about that girl you picked
up?"
"She came over and asked me to dance."
"Did you enjoy it?"
"Honey, things have changed since we were single. She liked to dance
really close, and
when I held her I was sure she wasn't wearing a bra, and I didn't feel
any panties seam
either."
"Hey, tell me more, oh husband with the wondering hands."
"Well, and I got a hard on, mainly from watching you, and she knew it. I
guess she
thought she caused it. She didn't back away, she liked to press her body
against me. I
guess she was really available."
We got home, and got to bed. I wasn't happy. "Tom, I'm upset. The deal
was you were
supposed to be watching me, not flirting or grinding your cock into
someone. I feel
insecure, and I don't like this game."
He was apologetic. "Watching you was the deal, and to be honest about it,
that was the
best part. The other was a fringe benefit. I'd rather watch, anyhow. If
we ever go there
again I promise to just watch, OK?"
"Well, just so long as you kept that thing" - I grabbed at his cock - "in
your pants until
you get home."
He then used that thing the way I wanted him to. When I asked him while
we made love,
he promised that he wasn't thinking about the woman he danced with, but
about me.
The next Wednesday evening Tom asked - begged - me to go out and "play"
again Friday,
and I agreed. I confess to daydreaming about some pick up scenarios,
wondering how I'd
act, what might happen. What started off as almost unthinkable outcomes
(would I
really let someone kiss me thinking I was single) by Friday seemed OK and
even fun. I
told Tom a little about my daydreaming - flirting, being kissed - and was
rewarded with
some pretty turned on sex. Tom, on the other hand, didn't say much about
his own ideas,
he just encouraged me with mine. He did insist on this: "If you kiss, you
gotta tell."
Friday we had an early dinner so we could go out play 'See who tries
('tries' was the
operative word in my mind) to pick up Barbara'.
I pulled out a pretty silk dark print dress that buttoned all the way
down the front, a
matching half slip, panty hose, and a pretty bra. Tom got out a casual
outfit - camel hair
jacket, chinos, white shirt open at the collar.
"How do I look?"
"Barbara, you look great."
He took me in his arms, kissed me. He already had an erection, and I was
pretty excited,
too.
"Honey, can I make a suggestion?"
"Sure."
"You do look wonderful, but you look like you're going out with your
husband."
"Uh, I guess that's an old habit, but I do like this dress!"
"Yeah, but. . . Look, try something for me, OK?"
"Try what?"
"Try it without your bra."
"What???"
"Go on."
Tom must have been thinking about this all week. Well, no one would know
me there. I
went to the bath room, and came out two minutes later. I'm not very
busty, so it wasn't
uncomfortable.
"Any better?"
He held me again. "Much nicer. How does it feel to you?"
"Well, my breasts keep moving against the dress, like they do when I'm
wearing a
negligee, so it feels really sexy. And I like the feeling of being kind
of almost naked, and
of your hands on my back: it feels very sexy. I do like it. I think it
turns you on, too,
look." I pointed at his trousers. There wasn't any denying he was
excited.
He held me at arm's length, and sure enough, my nipples were poking at
the dress.
"I think that looks wonderful!"
"I'm glad it's pretty dark in the bar, I don't want everybody to see
that," I said, gesturing
towards my nipple's indentations. "Do you have any more good ideas, or
can we go? If
we don't go soon I'm just going to grab you by the cock and take you to
bed," I said.
Actually, that seemed like the best idea, and a lot safer than the
alternative.
"Maybe one more idea."
"Tom, you have an evil gleam in your eye. Now what?"
"Remember the woman I danced with?"
"Yes."
"She was very sexy."
"You told me that, and I don't like you remembering her. You're with me,
remember?
What made her so sexy?"
"Well, when I held her like this when we were dancing" he demonstrated,
"and I moved
my hand like this", he slide it over my buttucks, "I just felt softness,
and not the kind of
hard feeling that a body wrapped in panty hose has."
"You mean you want me to go bare assed under this dress?"
"Honey, your legs are tanned and smooth, and great looking. You don't
need panty hose.
I'd get an erection every time someone was near you, and I guarantee a
reaction from
anyone who slow dances with you. Yeah, go bare assed. It'll make you feel
really wicked,
I'll bet, especially when you're dancing. Are you willing?"
"You didn't just get this idea, did you?"
"No."
He wants me to be sexy! I was already aroused, and I wanted to please
Tom, too, so I just
sat on the sofa, kicked off my shoes, stood, peeled off the hose, put on
my shoes, and
moved into his arms.
"Try that."
He did - he had a massive erection!
"Maybe you should come to bed with me now," he said.
I thought about that. It was safe, it would be fun, but now I was
excited, too, and feeling
wicked, daring. So, I took his hand and pulled him to the door. It was
only partly teasing
when I said "Not a chance. Now, we are going out! I want some other men
to see me, and
maybe hold me, and dance with me while I'm dressed like this. Maybe I'll
get someone as
excited as you are."
I thought Tom would insist on staying home, but instead he said "Yeah,
let's go. I'd really
like to see that too". I was learning something new about this man!
I pulled on a jacket because I did feel very exposed dressed as I was,
and off we went.
We caught the after work crowd. The lounge was dark so it was OK - just
barely OK
-when Tom insisted I check my coat. I did, took a deep breath, and went
in. I danced with
five different guys. I liked looking at their faces when we danced,
especially when they
discovered no bra strap across my back, and then, how every one found a
reason, while
we were dancing, to let their hands drift across my waist, and feel the
slip waist band, but
no lower seams, only soft flesh. What a feeling of power and control
that was. After a
while I rejected most invitations, except from one nice guy. I knew he
was excited - that
was clear - and he sure thought I was. He .did enough exploring to have
figured out just
what I was and wasn't wearing. Not that he was grabby, but there were
more than enough
casual brushes, and touches. He wasn't bashful about holding me tightly
while we
danced, and when our bodies touched, he made sure his arousal was
obvious. I
remembered what Tom told me about the woman he danced with, so during
slow dances
I managed to miss his lead a few times, and that caused - surprise - a
little accidental
pelvis bumping. If felt very strange, feeling him through the fabric of
my dress. I thought,
after an hour or so, he had read by touch every label on my dress and
half-slip. He wasn't
being grabby, either - no hand on my leg (by now I was sitting at a
small table with him)
or ass grabbing, but casual touches. He didn't even try to kiss me, and
that was a
disappointment - I wanted my daydreams to be filled. He did make some
interesting
suggestions, though.
Tom spent his time at the bar, watching. He wasn't being subtle, but the
room was
crowded enough so I don't think anyone noticed. I did notice that he
talked to a woman a
couple of times, but never danced with her. He was keeping his part of
the deal.
After a while I figured I did enough flirting, and Tom should have had
enough to see as a
fledgling voyeur. I was horny and wanted to get in bed with my husband. I
got my coat,
walked out, and got in our car. A few minutes later Tom got in the
driver's side.
"Wow. Honey, you looked great. You had that guy so turned on I think he
had to go to
the men's room to masturbate. It was wonderful. I'm surprised he didn't
ask you out. I
can't wait to get you home." He started the engine. I turned to face Tom,
and said "He
didn't ask me for a date, but he did ask me to get some air with him, in
his car."
Tom put the car back in park. "He did? Did you want to go? Do you want to
go back in
to him?"
"He said he was going to leave just after I did, so I can't go back to
him. I didn't know if I
should go with him, or even if I wanted to, without talking to you a lot
about it, first. I
didn't know how you'd take it. Maybe I should have gone. I told him I
didn't know him
well enough to get in his car with him so he asked what about my car?
That way he said
I'd be in control."
"Stop, you're going to make me come without touching me! It sounds like
he's a smooth
operator. But this is a small car." We came in our bench seat old fogie
Olds. "Not much
could happen here, maybe some kissing and making out, that's all, and
that would be all
right."
"Are you crazy? There's a lot of room in this car!"
"Not enough."
I thought he was very wrong about that."Let me show you."
I lifted up the center armrest, and had Tom recline his seat a bit, and
tilt the steering
wheel up.
"This could have happened."
I pulled him across the seat, and kissed him, mouth open, tongue
exploring.
"There!" I said. "I think any guy would have wanted to do that. I would
have wanted him
to if I went to the car with him, like we used to do when we were dating.
I even hoped
somebody would kiss me like that tonight. He'd know that would be the
only reason for
me bringing him here. What do you think about that?"
"I think that would have been great. It would have been all right with
me, sure!"
"Oh, it would? What about this?"
I turned my back to him, got my feet on the seat near the door, knees up,
and leaned
backwards, into his arms. It was a position we had used when we were
dating, a very
comfortable position for me. I had an arm around Tom's neck. He had his
left hand on
the steering wheel, so it was holding me up, and his right was around my
waist.
"Oh - oh, there's more room here than I thought" he admitted.
"Would you want your wife to be in someone else's arms, like this?"
"Oh, yeah. I dream about that! I'd love it."
"Really, " I thought. I wanted to know just what Tom wanted. How much
would be too
much?
"I'm going to pretend you're him. This would probably happen." I pulled
him toward me,
lifting up to meet him, and we kissed again. More like teenagers than a
thirty something
married couple.
I asked my husband "Should your wife do that, too?"
He whispered "Yes. I'd like that, I want you to do that".
I knew he was getting excited. Now, so was I. This game was fun!
"I'd want to do this, too" I said, and took the hand he had on my waist,
brought it to my
lips, kissed it, brought his finger into my mouth, and kissed and sucked
on it a bit, too.
That always got to Tom.
Tom said "Oh yeah, That would drive him crazy."
"Maybe I'd do this." I took that hand, and moved it from my mouth, along
my cheek, and
neck, down, lower, to my breast. I held his hand against me. Tom could
feel my nipple
responding.
"A good reason for not wearing a bra is so someone could touch me like
that," I told Tom.
"Ahhhh, yes, let him touch you!"
I was really letting my imagination run wild, feeling sexy, pretending
Tom was someone
else. After a few more minutes. . .
"I'd have to tell him I liked that. Maybe, if he was nice. . ."
"Oh, he'd be nice," Tom interrupted as I took his hand from my left
breast, and moved it
to the neckline of my dress.
He was looking down at me.
I guided his hand to the buttons, and I opened the first couple.
". . . I'd ask him to help with this."
"You'd do that??? I'd want you to, but I thought you'd get mad."
"He wouldn't be able to touch me if I was all buttoned up, would he?"
Tom never had trouble with my dresses, but he fumbled now. Finally, when
it was
opened far enough - almost to my waist - I said ". . . I would want him
to touch my skin. .
."
"Like this." I took his hand and slipped it under my dress. ". . .I
think he'd want to, don't
you?"
My husband has touched my breast a millon times, but feeling his hand,
guided by mine,
move over my body to my breast, then to my nipple, nearly drove me crazy!
A minute passed.
He was silent, eyes closed, but his hand moved over me. I closed my eyes,
imagining it
was someone else, making it so erotic. I found I put my hand, outside
the dress, over his,
holding him to me. "Well, are you going to say you want me to let him
touch me like
that?"
"Yes, I want him to play with your tits," he said, as he was cupping and
fondling my
breast. My nipple was so tight, and I could feel myself getting wet.
Another few minutes
passed.
"If you were he, I'd tell you I was getting very excited. Would it be all
right with you if I
did this?"
I took the open front of the dress and pulled it to the side, exposing my
breast, and looked
down at his hand holding me, nipple being rolled and twisted between his
fingers.
'Yes, let him see your tits, too."
"Should I. .. ." I asked, and pulled his hand away, pulled his head
towards my chest, and
lifted up until his mouth found my nipple.
I held him that way - not that he wasn't willing. "What do you think of
your wife now?"
"I think you're wonderful, and he'd think you were terrific!"
"Do you really want me to let someone kiss my breasts, Tom?"
"Mmmm, yes, let him."
"If that's OK, what about this . ." I took his hand and moved it down,
across my lap, up
my leg over my dress to my knee, and then down until it was touching my
skin on my
calf, midway between my knee and ankle.
"Do you think I should tell him both me and my husband want him to touch
me?"
"Yes," he mumbled -well, his mouth was full.
His hand was just resting on my leg. "Tom, if it went this far, I'd do
this," and my hand
on his wrist, and started it towards my knee. Tom's hand went under the
dress and slip,
and then, once at my knee, down along the inside of my thigh.
"Would you want me to let another man do what you're doing now?" I asked
him as I
opened my legs a little, so that by the time he got to my vagina he found
it hot, and wet,
and available. And he didn't waste a minute. He got fingers into me,
while he was still
sucking at my nipple.
"Tom?"
"Yes?"
"Are you serious that you want me to get someone to do this?"
"Oh yes."
"My dress is getting wrinkled." I lifted up, pulled at my hem, folded it
and my half slip
back to my waist. His hand never stopped, but now, in the dim light of
the parking lot,
we could see my breast, exposed, and my legs spread with Tom's fingers
moving in and
out of me, and my own hips moving, meeting his fingers, fucking them.
I said "Are you saying you want somebody else to be touching me, with
their fingers
where yours are, and looking at me all exposed like this in the car?
That's all right with
you?"
"Yes, that's what I want, it's more than all right with me."
We both enjoyed the game a little too much, and I knew my husband,
playing a guy who
picked me up, was as aroused as he could be. Maybe not. I could do
more.
"Don't you think it's a little unfair, that I'm getting all of the
pleasure?" I asked.
"Oh, but I love doing this to you."
"But I want to give you - no, I want to give him - some pleasure, too,
OK?"
"What would you do?"
By now his mouth was on my breast again. I lifted his head from my
breast, lay my head
in his lap, turned toward him a little - not enough to interfere with the
wonderful things
his fingers were doing to me, though.
"I'd do this."
I put my mouth on his shirt, above his belt, breathed through it, so my
warm breath went
through his shirt, to his skin. I don't think it warmed him, though. He
seemed to shiver.
"And maybe I'd do this."
I lowered my head until it was in his lap, but facing him. I could feel
the heat from his
crotch. I got my hands on his belt, got that open, got his pants and fly
open, reached in,
got my hand around his cock - what a surprise, he had an erection.
"You'd want me to, wouldn't you, you'd want me to tocuh him too, wouldn't
you?" I
asked, as I stroked him, and felt twitches, and quivers, as he tried to
control himself.
"Well??"
"Yes, I'd want you to do that."
"Tom, his cock would be right in front of my mouth, like your's is.
Shouldn't I do
something about that?"
"Yes, take his cock in your mouth like you do for me. Suck it!!!"
A tilt of my head, a little movement, and my lips were on it.
I took a break after a minute. "Is this really what you'd want me to do?"
He pushed himself back deep into my mouth, and I heard "Yes. Do more".
We both
heard someone walk up to the car on our right, and we both looked out the
passenger side
window as a guy looked in. "Lucky bastard", he said, as he saw Tom's hand
covering my
crotch, my exposed breast, and Tom's cock almost in my mouth. He got in
his car, and
drove away.
Tom usually has a lot of endurance - he can hold his erection for a long
time. But now, as
the other car was pulling out, I put my hand around his shaft, and I felt
his cock pulse. My
lips closed over his penis's head, my tongue carressed it, and that, and
my hand stroking
him, was too much. He lost control.
That doesn't happen too often with us. I wiped shat had leaked from my
mouth on his
shirt. A few minutes later, while driving home, I reminded him of
something -"Tom, you
owe me a major orgasm."
"You're going to get one!"
His cock wasn't working any more that night, but his fingers and mouth
were. I got one!
The next morning we spent in bed, cuddling, talking.
"That was some fun."
"I liked last night", I said, "did you?"
"You bet."
He asked what I was sure he would: "Would you really do that with someone
else?"
I told him I thought it was exciting enough with him pretending to be a
stranger.
"Did you mind that guy seeing you going down on me?" Tom wanted to
know, and I
was honest with him about it.
"You know, if you had asked me before, I would have told you I'd never be
able to let
someone see me do that to you. But now, I think it made it even better.
He would never
guess we were married, at least not to each other!"
Tom finally summed up his feelings. "The whole evening was a major turn
on for me. I'd
like you to do that, maybe even more, so long as you would end up here
with me later."
That wouldn't be pretending! That would be real. "Tom, the only 'more'
left would be for
someone else to fuck me." I reminded him, and I could feel myself
getting excited again.
"Is that what you want?"
He took my hand, and put it on his cock. It was getting hard again.
"At this moment, yes."
For the first time in years, we had intercourse every night that week.
Tuesday, in bed, before sex, Tom gave me a gift. I often wear a thin gold
necklace with a
single diamond pendent. It's a favorite that Tom gave me. This was a much
longer fine
chain. I doubled it, put it on my neck.
"No, no, you wear that on your waist, right on your skin."
"Oh."
I got out of bed, took off my negligee, and he put the chain on. It rode
high on my waist
on one side, low on my hip on the other, with the ends hanging free a few
inches down
my hip.
"Now, that IS sexy" , he said, and proved it.
Afterwards - at least I thought it was afterwards - I told him how much I
liked it, but that
I thought it should be worn more as a belt on a simple dress. "Barbara,
wear it on your
skin. And Barbara, it will be OK if I'm not the only guy who sees you
wearing it."
That lead to another sexy session.
On Friday morning, at breakfast, he asked what I knew he would. "Are we
going back to
the Marriett tonight?"
"Yeah," I agreed, "if that's what you want. This is a dangerous game, but
I admit I like it
too, but, uh, what if. . .?"
He looked at me right in the eye. "Anything you do is sure OK with me."
My grad students didn't have my full attention that day. I got home
early, Tom by 6:30. I
was ready to get dressed. Tom wanted to help, and the notion of having my
husband help
me get ready to go out and flirt - maybe more - made things even better.
When I finished drying after being in the shower, Tom knelt in front of
me, looped the
chain around my waist, pulled me close and nuzzled into my pubic mound.
"Everything
else can go, but only I get to take this off, OK?"
"OK."
I don't wear much makeup. He watched as I dabbed a bit on.
"Honey, put a little perfume on your neck, too."
I did.
He reached for the atomizer bottle, "maybe some between your breasts,
just in case?"
"OK."
He bent over, "thighs?"
"Tom, stop it! I can pretend I like the idea of having someone play with
my breasts, but. .
."
"OK".
I selected my fooling around outfit for the evening. Silk blouse, long
wrap around skirt
that showed leg when I walked, fairly high heeled shoes. No bra, no slip,
no panties. I
learned that lesson last week. I felt free, sexy, naked, hot. "Tom, if
tonight starts off like
last week did, you may have to wait a while if I go to the parking field
with someone.
Will that be OK?"
His eyes told the story - it sure would! He confirmed it. "I'd like that,
I hope you do go.
But what about you? It's your body."
"I made promises to be faithful to you. I don't want to break those
promises."
"Honey, " he said, "this is not cheating. It's for our pleasure, and I
don't care about other
people's opinions. It's between us."
"OK. I'm ready to go."
"Good, but before we do. . ."
He took me in his arms. It started out as a romantic kiss, but then his
hands were on me
under my skirt. "I love the way you look. I can feel the chain, too, and
I like that. If things
get pretty hot in the car with someone, at least you'll be wearing
something! I love you,
and I love you even more for doing this."
We started to the hotel: not a word was spoken as we drove along Rt. 2,
not a word
along 128, we were each lost in our thoughts. The hotel is just a couple
of turns from
128, and we got there too soon. He whispered "I love you" as he dropped
me off, then
went to park the car. I sat in the lobby, feeling excited, erotic, maybe
a little trashy. Tom
walked in - I know he saw me - walked by, and walked down the hall to
the lounge
without acknowledging me. I waited, went to the lady's room, then with a
deep breath,
entered. Tonight, I was pretty sure, I'd be willing be kissed
passionately by a new person,
and was scared and excited about it.
I had two cocktails for courage at the bar, rejecting a couple of
invitations to dance.
Finally, I decided it was time. It started out pretty much like the week
before. Once again
I danced with a couple of guys, but then almost exclusively with a tall
man named Ted
who was a sweetheart of a guy. Sexy, too. He wasn't grabby, but he sure
knew what I
wasn't wearing, there were enough casual touches, hands along my back and
so on, for
him to know that. I think he even figured out the chain, which rode high
on my waist on
one side, and on my hip on the other. The dance floor was pretty dark,
but I could see
Tom at the bar, watching. I'm pretty sure he saw Ted's hand move down my
back, and
pass over my buttocks. I knew Ted thought he was touching bare skin under
my skirt.
I could see Tom watching, as I looked at him over Ted's shoulder. I
thought I could turn
up the heat for all three of us. Besides, I was supposed to be sexy, and
available. When
we were dancing close to the bar I held him with my arm around his back,
moved closer,
and made it clear to Ted I wanted to be kissed. His lips brushed mine,
then my ear. When
we turned again I could see Tom staring, mouth open. Ted let me know he
was a little
aroused, too, as he held me against an increasingly hot and hard crotch.
I may be married
for a while, but it looked as if I was attractive enough to cause a real
reaction!. Ted
apologized: "I'm sorry, Barbara, I was getting carried away for a
moment", freeing his
arms a little, allowing a little space between us. "That's all right" I
told him, and moved
closer again, feeling his warmth again aagainst my belly. The dance
floor was dark
enough so I could enjoy that contact. He made sure we were close to our
table at the end
of the dance, so he wouldn't have far to walk with his erection tenting
his slacks. "I'm
embarrised," he said, actually blushing. I took his hand as we went to
the table. "Don't be,
I think it's kind of a complement," I told him.
About 10 PM I excused myself and walked along the bar to the ladies room.
I nodded to
Tom as I passed him. When I came out of the ladies room, Tom was waiting.
"You gave me the high sign. Are you ready to go home now and get fucked?"
"No".
"Oh. Well, does that guy want to go out to his car with you?"
"Not this guy, honey."
"What's wrong with him? How can he resist you. I couldn't, if I was him."
"There's nothing wrong with him. He's staying at the hotel, and asked me
if I'd go to his
room for a little more privacy."
"What!" Tom's mouth almost fell open!
"Tom, he wants me to go to his room with him. That's not too hard to
understand, is it?
Maybe we should leave, and I can take you home, and you can show me what
might have
happened."
"His room, here at the hotel?" Tom couldn't quite get his breath.
"Yeah." I almost laughed at the expression on Tom's face. "Tom, he wants
to be alone
with me. I wonder why? I think I'll spend some more time with him here
and fool around
some more."
"Oh, I'm so damn horny", Tom said.
"Or, big guy, if you're really serious about this, you could wait down
here, and I'd go to
his room for a while, and maybe - no, probably - get a sexy story to
tell you."
"Oh shit, I'm gonna come in my pants!!!"
"It's your game, honey. . .."
He inturrupted me: "Would you actually go?"
"Well, you said you wanted something to happen, and now we have the
opportunity. Of
course, there'll be other opportunities, I guess . . ."
"I know." He paused, thinking. Pretending was one thing, but this was
real, for both of us.
He thought about what he wanted. "Barbara, I'm going into the men's
room. I've gotta get
some release from my hard on, and I don't want to leave right now. And
then I'm going to
have a couple of drinks in the bar, I figure I'm going to spend maybe an
hour and a half
or two hours here. Your choice. You can sit with me, or. . ."
"Tom, this was your idea. But, husband, I promised you my body is for
your pleasure
only. If you want to share it for your pleasure, it's OK with me. But,
you have to say so -
don't put it all on me!"
"I don't know what you want me to say."
"Tom, that guy wants me to go to his room. That's because he wants
privacy, and he's not
going to just dance with me there. Maybe it'll be like we acted out last
weekend, maybe
it'll be even more, and you know what that means. Do you want me to go?"
I took a step
away from him. "Look at me! I'm dressed like this because you, no,
because we wanted to
fool around with this pick up idea. Now somebody wants to pick me up. Do
you want to
take me home and have sex with me now, like we did last week, or do you
want me to
stay here with that guy, first, then go home with you? I can stay with
him in the lounge
like I've been doing, or go to his room. Honey, if I go upstairs he's
expecting more than
just dancing. Help me, honey, this started out as your idea."
Tom took a deep breath. "If you're willing, let's stay here. Go up to his
room with him.
But, you have to tell me all about it. I'll wait for you here!"
I kissed him. "OK. I will. Hey, think of this while you're waiting.
Those lips you just
kissed are probably going to be kissing someone else pretty soon. Bye!"
He took my arm. "Barbara, if you go to his room, memorize everything, OK?
Make it a
great time for him, and a great time for you, too. Do everything you
want, because I want
that, too, but you have to tell me everything."
I said "I don't have any experience at this with other men to know about
great times, but
I'll try, and you'll know about everything we do", and I walked back,
horny, and ready,
and fast enough so he wouldn't have time to change his mind.
I sat with Ted again. The music was nice, so we moved back to the floor.
He had his arms
around me. I rested my head on his shoulder, felt him kissing my hair.
"Barbar, have you thought some more about coming upstairs with me?"
I knew he was going to ask again. I held him close, felt heat and
pressure from him.
Would I dare? Would it be as good as our games? I wanted to know. I
whispered "Yes,
I've been thinking about it. After this dance, I'll go with you."
End of part 1/2. See part 2/2 for the conclusion. It's worth it.
tonytony3@juno.com
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