Where did that thought come from? That would surprise Steven, but would it work? Hayley took the next exit from the interstate to see if she could backtrack.
This was curious. Steven's stories were all over the board. What he consistently left out of his stories was romance, which was okay. The point of "adult fiction" isn't to be romantic, and his stories certainly made her juices flow. She had no idea where he got all his story ideas from, but she had to admit, they were consistently a turn- on. He had a way of including personal information so that she could see herself in the stories, with references to her past, her work, her house, and even her friends. But his stories were way over the top. Sex with two men, a gang bang, wife-swapping, forced exhibitionism? No way. And a chiropractor who hypnotized her? Please! There was no way she would do that stuff, or, she knew, that he would ask her to. But they were fun to read.
But aside from the stories, there wasn't much romance in their lives, either. It wasn't like she expected a movie romance. They didn't travel other than for family vacations, so they weren't visiting tropic isles or street cafes in France. He didn't like to dance. Neither of them liked wine with dinner. So if there was a postcard with a picture of "romance" in their lives, there would be little but flowers and perhaps a blanket by the fireplace. But it wasn't a scripted romance she wanted. It was a compliment, a caring touch, an appreciative look in his eyes, and conversation that she wanted. She didn't want kinky, but, yes, this would do quite well for something a little different. She turned the car around and headed home.
Hayley stepped out of the shower, wrapped a towel around her wet hair, and began toweling herself dry with another. As she removed the towel from her head and began blow-drying, she looked at herself in the mirror. Her skin was flushed from the hot shower, and she had a healthy pink glow. Her tan lines were very faint now that it was autumn, but for her, the flushed pinkness of her skin seemed far more sexy than a deep tan. Not bad for 39. Wow. In another year she would be 40. But a good looking 40. Her muscles weren't as toned as they had been, but she wasn't flabby, either. Her breasts weren't firm anymore, and they had settled slightly lower on her chest, not to mention larger than they had been. But they retained their shape, and she knew Steven loved them as they were. Plus, she didn't have to bend as far to lower them to his mouth when she was on top. So there was at least one advantage to getting older. Her nipples weren't dark, but they weren't light either. She remembered how surprised Steven had been after their first child was born. He had had no idea that the color of her nipples wouldn't return to their original light pink. Well, here she was at 39. No, not bad at all, and if he was just somewhat romantic tonight, perhaps he would get a reward.
Steven's parents arrived just after he returned from work. While she was happy to see them, she was also eager to leave them with the kids and enjoy a night out. Steven was dressed in his usual business casual attire, Docker's and a dress shirt. She had debated what to wear to set the tone for the evening, and as "sexy" wasn't part of her wardrobe, she opted for jeans and a light sweater. Not a form fitting sweater, but it was clingy at least. And white sneakers. She preferred comfort over style on almost all occasions. Hopefully, he wouldn't notice the stockings she was wearing; it would ruin the surprise.
"Sexy," in Steven's mind, involved something tight, and she was just too self-conscious when men stared at her breasts. It wasn't that she was afraid of running into someone they knew. Charlotte was a big enough city that the odds were against it.
They said goodbye to his parents, and Steven briefly placed his palm on her back as they moved towards the garage. She didn't have to look at his face to know that he would be disappointed as he felt the bra-strap under her sweater.
Yup. She could count on him to check every single time they went out, and to make a comment every time in a kidding way. There were occasions when she wouldn't wear a bra, but this wasn't one of them, and the sweater was clingy enough that she wanted the support. As they left the house, Steven picked up the section of the newspaper with the movie listings, and she could see that, as far as he was concerned, it was going to be the "usual," dinner out and a movie. Which wasn't bad, nine times out of ten. She was hoping this would be a ten, though.
He was in a good mood, and he talked more than usual about his day at work on the way to the restaurant. They had decided on TGI Friday, and they arrived in time to get one of the last remaining booths.
Hayley recounted her day, which involved cleaning the house, reading a small bit, and a nap. Not much excitement there, but at least the house was clean. That, in itself, was a good reason to have company every now and then. There was a brief silence, then Steven changed subjects.
"Do you remember coming here shortly after we were married?"
"Not really. What about it?"
"We were sitting in a booth, maybe the next one over, looking down at the bar. We were both so thankful that we didn't have to play the dating game, because the people who sat at the bar didn't look particularly happy or hopeful. It was kind of like it is now, with a bunch of guys from all walks of life, and a couple so-so women who smoke."
"I remember we talked about what would happen if you came in alone and sat at the bar. I might already be at the bar, watching. But it wouldn't have been long before someone began hitting on you. It wasn't a serious discussion, it was just fun to think about."
Hayley kind of remembered that, although it was probably 13 years ago, long before Steven began writing his stories, in fact. "So, what then? You're saying I couldn't raise a stir now? Or are you saying I should?"
"Oh, I'm not saying either. I'm sure you would, although spring clothes would probably speed things along a bit."
"What does that mean? I'm frumpy? That almost sounds like a dare."
"No, not at all. Besides, we would be back to the same problem I think we came to then."
"The same problem you probably came across in elementary school when you chased a boy around the playground. What do you do with him after you catch him?"
"Well, you're right, although I was usually being chased by a boy. But what I do with him after I've caught him isn't a problem. I've done that before."
Steven had been stroking her hand across the table, but he seemed to take on a new intensity. His eyes asked the question, but she decided to wait him out. The thought struck her that this would be a really strange conversation if the people in the adjacent booths were listening. But the silence between them made her realize how noisy the restaurant was. She outlasted him.
"Okay, I give. When? Who?"
"I don't remember his name."
"Well, that's a great start! And you never told me about him? I thought you had shared all of your past history."
"I did." She smirked, enjoying his curiosity, knowing that he was thinking through her past lovers to see if any of them fit this fact. And from that little exercise, he would probably get frustrated, a little jealous, and probably turned on.
"I'm sorry, dear. I don't recall that. Why don't you refresh my memory?"
"It's sort of fuzzy. I think it was a dance club with a bar, actually. We danced. He was pretty much all over me, and we were both pretty hot for each other." She looked away from him, as if remembering some special moment.
"Okay, when was this?" He sounded serious.
"After we were married. You should remember. It wasn't that long ago." Steven was hooked, but she could see in his face that he was realizing either that this was a very serious moment in their marriage, or that she had hooked him on a tease and was reeling him in.
"Yeah, sure. Well, why don't you tell me more."
"Well, that's easy. I took him home and..." Hayley looked around for eavesdroppers, and lowered her voice. "...I fucked him in our bed."
Stephen just stared into her eyes. She could feel the heat in his hand on hers, the beginning of perspiration. She could see that he wasn't jealous; he knew that this was a joke. But he was playing the game, too, trying to get her to break the punchline. It was a long silence, made longer by their eyes getting lost in the other's and the sensual petting between their hands. She finally decided to let him win.
"Well, Steven, you should know. You watched! At least, that's the way it happened in your story."
A smile quickly lit his face, and Steven rolled his eyes as only he could. "Why, I oughtta..."
They laughed, just as their dinner arrived. The conversation returned to the ordinary spousal banter, which was fine with Hayley. At least as a couple they could still talk with each other. It bothered them both when they saw other couples dining out who said hardly a word to each other.
"It would have been kind of fun, don't you think?"
Hayley hadn't been paying attention, guilty of thinking about conversation rather than participating in it. Oops. "Sorry!" She smiled. "What was that?"
"It would have been kind of fun, don't you think?"
How long had she drifted? "What?"
"Just to watch you pick up a guy. Not to do anything with him. Just pick him up, then disappear."
"I don't really want to, but I could do it now..."
Steven looked at her questioningly. She wondered if this meant he didn't think she could, or if he was actually considering it. She'd play the middle.
"I've got to go to the restroom. Back in a minute. Eh, where's the restroom?"
"Just past the bar."
Exactly, she thought.
About five minutes later, she retrieved her cell phone from her purse, and she dialed Steven from the restroom. Caller ID would give her away, but still...
Steven answered with a very formal, "Yes, dear?"
"Keep an eye out." She ended the call and left the bathroom. She took her time, walking slowly around the bar, the longest route possible, before returning to the table.
She knew her mission would be successful, but Steven's eyes confirmed it as she returned to the booth. His eyes were glued to her chest. Her bra was tucked in her purse, and she had seen in the women's restroom mirror how conspicuous her 42C chest was. Her breasts were obviously hanging lower than they would in a bra, and the clingy sweater made it obvious with a glance that they were loose. She had even practiced a walk to make them jiggle and sway slightly.
"So?" Hayley didn't think her question had to be specific.
"Oh. Well, I think we can safely conclude that if you were to sit at the bar, then yes, quite a number of guys have already taken notice and would, no doubt, be making their moves. They'd probably start the conversation asking if you were cold and needed a coat."
Hayley's nipples weren't erect in the restroom, but she could see that they were now. It was a bit embarrassing for her.
"Paid the bill?"
"Good. Time to go." As she walked towards the doors, she continued to walk so that her breasts jiggled, knowing that Steven would see the guys at the bar giving her a look. She kept her eyes focused on the door, though. She wanted to give Steven a thrill, but not to the point of blushing.
As they walked to their van, she asked, "Did I have an audience?"
Steven answered in a gentlemanly tone, "Yes, more than a few that I noticed, but none more appreciative than me." They both laughed.
"Okay, then! Well, Hayley, what do you have in mind now? Time to strut yourself in the mall?"
She knew he was kidding, but he was closer to the truth than he knew. She had already decided that they weren't going to see a movie. And she knew what she wanted to do next. "Actually, Steven..." Pauses were playful, weren't they? "Yes."
They arrived at the mall, and she instructed him to park near Dillard's, her favorite department store.
When shopping, she normally offered for him to look in the men's section while she went to the women's, but tonight, they weren't shopping. She ended up taking a zigzag route through the women's department, and it was obvious that Steven was confused because she wasn't stopping to look at anything. Neither was she walking into the mall area, which is what her "yes" had inferred. In fact, there were surprisingly few people in the women's section, which suited her fine. She stopped suddenly, Steven behind her in tow. "Okay, this is it."
"Okay, you got me. What is?"
"The dressing room I want to use. There's a chair for you to sit in, and a mirror for me to model. Plus, there's no salesperson nearby, and I think that cashier station is closed. So here's the deal. Remember that marriage conference we went to years ago?" Steven nodded, and she knew he was recalling that one couple leading the conference liked to visit a store near closing, and the wife would try fancy dresses just for the fun of it and model them for her husband, even though they had no need or occasion for the dresses. Steven nodded.
"So, I'm Barbie. Ken, you pick out what you want me to wear, but no lingerie. Size 12 should do. I'll wait here for your first batch."
Steven returned promptly after several minutes, having found some evening gowns that were more suited to teenagers going to the prom than for a woman her age. Just as she knew he would. She took the dresses and went to the dressing area.
The first was a black dress, with a plunging neckline, slit to her mid- thigh. She didn't have formal shoes, but this was what she had worn stockings for, to add a little class to the proceedings. She stepped into the viewing area, breathed deeply to expand her chest, turned to give him the full view, then stepped away to try on the next. Sequins? She didn't know people wore these anymore, but this was the point. She would never have the need for these dresses anyway. The dress was somewhat awkward, and she had to put her bra back on for it to fit correctly. She stepped back into the viewing area, and...no sign of Steven. She waited for a minute, which seemed an eternity when she was wearing, what? A $300 dollar dress with no intention of buying anything. Steven returned just as she was about to drop the whole idea. He had an armload of clothes, which, after modeling, she carried to her stall.
After modeling several more dresses, some surprisingly formal, she came to a dress which was cut much shorter, well above the knees, and she decided she looked silly in it. She could think of only one use for it, and when she entered the mirrored area, she turned her back to him and raised the front of her skirt. If he had an eye quick enough, he would see her panties in the reflection. She turned back to face him and pretended to bite her lip in a way of saying, "how was that?" His smile was all she needed.
That brought her to the next stack of clothes he had gathered. It would be 30 minutes before the store closed, and she understood quickly that he had made a quick trip to the junior's section. She hoped they would fit. The first was an electric blue tube top. She had seen these on teenagers, but she had never paid any attention to how small they were before they were worn. She had no idea if it would stretch enough to fit her. It would have to be bra-less as well. This was going to be a sight. She managed to stretch it over her breasts, but that used so much fabric that that there was little left to cover her midriff. On a pubescent teen, it would probably look great. A look in the mirror confirmed that it made her look cheap, fitting so tightly that little about her nipples was left to the imagination.
She looked at the remaining clothes. She had said size 12, and here she was with stuff that had no chance of fitting. Maybe he didn't realize he was in the junior's department and just picked "large." There was a miniskirt, though. How did he find this stuff so quickly? She thought the miniskirt was going to be more of a struggle, but it was tight in a flattering way, not that she would ever wear one in public. Hmmm. Now the question. Panties, yes? Or panties, no? She decided that bra-less would have to be enough. She wanted to pace herself, anyway.
She peered around the corner to make sure that no one was near, and she stepped into the viewing area. Steven's eyes were glued to her chest. She had to clear her throat lightly before his eyes moved downward, checking out the black mini, and the thigh high black stockings that she had been wearing, their nature now fully revealed.
"Any surprises under the hood?" At least he looked at her eyes when he asked. She grinned, turned her back to him, and bent over, knowing he would have a view of her black panties. She heard him exhale breathily in approval, considering it wise that he hadn't whistled. She stood up, and, as if adjusting her top, tweaked her nipples so that he could see her fondle them in the mirror's reflection.
"Not bad for 39, huh?"
"Not bad for 29! Here. This is the last thing I want you to try. Anything else that you need?"
She smiled at him, her husband of 15 years. She looked toward the dressing stalls. "I need you to..."
"Is there anything I can help you with?" It was a salesperson, apparently just to the side. She ducked into the dressing area to leave Steven to get rid of her. She closed the stall door, and removed the miniskirt. She then wrestled her way out of the tube top and took a moment to catch her breath. Her panties were damp, and it reminded her that the conclusion of her thought had been "come in here and fuck me." Well, that wasn't going to happen now. She looked down at the piece of clothing Steven had handed her. She hadn't paid attention to it until now. An overcoat. Uh-huh. She knew what he was hoping for, and, unless the salesperson was orbiting, she decided she wouldn't disappoint him.
"Hi there." Steven turned to face her. She was wearing a leather overcoat, which hung heavily on her shoulders. It was smooth on the outside and had a silken lining on the inside. She was surprised it wasn't chained to a rack. She had it buttoned from top to bottom, with her hands in the pockets. She turned, pretending to be a model, the belt at the waist tightened nicely to show off the hourglass figure that she maintained, although a short-waisted one. She also was making sure that no one was around.
She stared momentarily at his crotch, before asking, "So, is this coat to your...satisfaction?"
"Well, yes. It's an appropriate wrapping for the beautiful person inside, who, I might add, I'm hoping to see more of," it was his turn to pause, "sooner or later."
Hayley winked at him and stepped back into the alcove so that unless someone was standing next to Steven, she was well secluded. She locked her eyes on his, a smile on her lips, her tongue playing lightly across them. She unfastened the belt, watching him watch her, his eyes following her hands. She began with the highest button, then the next. She pulled the lapel out slightly so that he could see the bare skin beneath, then shut it again, continuing to unfasten the lower buttons.
She inserted one hand between the folds of fabric, moving her hand between her midriff and the top of her thigh. In an exaggerated tone, she said, "Oh my! How silly of me. I forgot to dress." With that, she opened the coat to reveal her breasts and her panty-less cunt. She wasn't about to tempt the odds of being seen by someone else, so she turned her back to him and removed the coat. She turned again, holding the coat by the shoulders in front of her. "Here, you go hang this back up while I get dressed." Naked except for her stockings, she turned and headed for the stall, hoping that the security cameras hadn't been monitoring her.
She knew Steven was probably bone hard. In fact, he had better be! Her panties were uncomfortably cool and moist as she slid them back up to her hips, but her jeans were too uncomfortable without them. The bra, though... She stuffed it into her purse, did a quick mirror check, and headed out. Steven was waiting, and they walked hand in hand to the car.
"Well, where to?" Steven asked. "I brought the movie schedule. Is there anything you want to see?"
"No, not particularly. There's something else I'd like to do, but your parents are in our house. Know any parking spots?"