Chapter 1

Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Cheating, Slow, .

Desc: Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Wife considers whether to fulfill husband's fantasy as a surprise.

If someone had suggested to me before I got married even the possibility that something like this could happen, I would have considered it too absurd to even dignify the comment with a response.

I can't pinpoint the time when the whole situation began to develop. I just had an intuition that something was going on, but I didn't have any real sense of what it was. The first thing I was actually aware of noticing was that Dan seemed to be more enthusiastic about pursuing, and having, sex. When he would come into the bedroom, he would seem to be kind of ready and more involved. The frequency seemed to be picking up as well. It didn't take my intuition to tell me that this could be a good thing.

I guess it went on for some time before I noticed anything else. Why would I notice anything else? I wasn't looking for anything. I was just enjoying whatever it was that was firing him up.

Eventually it dawned on me that he seemed to be in his office before these sessions. His computer was in there. I wondered if he might be getting involved in chat rooms and receiving his inspiration there, from talking to other women. Even though I was the beneficiary, I wasn't sure how I felt about that. It's like cheating in a way. Of course, I didn't know that he was doing it. I had a mystery and a vague suspicion.

Now in a situation like this, a man would be all over my computer the moment I left the house. Would he seek help? No self-respecting man would ever do that. They have to solve every problem themselves. Women, however, are more evolved. I did what any woman would do. I called my best friend.

"So you think he's cheating on you online?"

"Well, not exactly cheating."

"No way. Danny would never do that. I'm not just saying it because of what you tell me about him. I know him pretty well myself. He is the nicest man, person, I've ever met. He's sweet. He's thoughtful. He goes out of his way to do stuff for you without you even asking. He does nice stuff for everybody, for God's sake."

"Yeah, I know."

"You make it sound like that's a bad thing."


"Beth! You're married to the nicest guy in the world and you're not happy about it?"

"Sometimes it makes me kind of jealous."

"Jealous? I don't understand."

"He's nice to everybody. Even people he doesn't particularly like. He's nice to strangers. He'll see somebody on the street who needs help, and he'll help them."

"The cad!"

"I know it sounds shallow and petty. But if he does those things for strangers, for people who've done nothing to earn it, what does it mean when he does it for me? He isn't doing it because he loves me or because I've shown I'm worthy of him being nice. He just does it because he's a nice guy."

"Everybody should have such problems."

"I know, Cheryl. I'm not proud of my feelings. But that's how I feel. It's actually even worse. Just one time I think I'd like to see him do something really bad. Be a son of a bitch or something. Do something really mean to someone else. Hell, I think I'd even like it if he did something mean to me. That would bring him down to a level with the rest of us. It's like he's a damn saint."

"That's really messed up."

"I know." I was feeling really embarrassed and didn't know what to say. It wasn't just jealousy. I think that seeing Dan as an example of how people could be, how people should be, made me realize that I was deficient. I was too embarrassed to admit that to Cheryl.

She finally tried to cheer me up. "Maybe he is talking to other women online. They get him worked up and then he comes up to you and gives you the benefit of their encouragement."

"I almost hope so. It would be nice to find at least one chink in the armor. On the other hand, I think I'd be hurt to think he needed other women to turn him on for me."

"But, from what you're saying, you would be happy if he hurt you. And if it turns out to be innocent, you'll be unhappy he didn't hurt you?"

"I don't know. I think so. I don't know. I'm so confused."

"So maybe Mr. Danny needs help in the bedroom. There's a weakness." She said it with delight.

"No. Actually, he's always been terrific. He's very patient. Just like he is in everything else he does. He doesn't even let us get started with him until he's brought me off at least once or twice. It's really frustrating."

"Yeah. Forcing you to submit to all that pleasure. He's a real monster."

"Stop making fun of me. I already know it's ridiculous."

"So what does he do? I mean to get you off a couple times before he really gets started."

"That's more personal than I want to answer."

"You already told me he gives you multiples before you can even touch him. That's not personal?"

"No. That's just another example of his damn good qualities. What we do is personal details. I might be willing to talk about it some other time, but not when I'm feeling so bad about being upset that he's such a great guy."

"Only in America."

"Cut it out, Cheryl. I feel bad enough. So what do I do about his mysterious activities?"

"That depends. Do you really want to know?"

"I think I do."

"So snoop."

"Well, but that means I kind of have to not trust him. I mean, am I betraying him by snooping on him?"

"Kind of, I guess. I mean you kind of have to decide which is worse: not knowing what he's doing or sneaking around his private stuff."

She had distilled the dilemma. "I don't know what I'm going to do."

"So do you have any other serious marital problems we can work on?"

"You can be such a smart ass some times."

"But you love me."

"I do."

"Oh shit! I completely forgot my mother is coming in today and I was supposed to meet her at the airport in 45 minutes. Shit. I can't believe I forgot. I've got a meeting I can't miss in 10 minutes. What the hell am I going to do? I'm going to have to call the airport and get her a message to take a cab. Shit, shit, shit."

"Cheryl, you know I have time flexibility here. I can take a few hours and pick her up for you."

"Oh, God. Would you really do that? That would be so incredible."

"Of course. In fact, I'm kind of hurt that you didn't ask me. You know I can move my schedule around."

"Well, that's because my mom isn't coming in."

"What? You were just messing with me?"

"No. You offered to handle my problem without even being asked. You're nice too, aren't you?"

"You, you, I don't even know the right word."

"Just say, 'Thank you.'"

"Thank you."

Ultimately, I decided that I wanted to know. I am not totally without computer skills. So, there I was, married only 2 1/2 years and I had decided to snoop.

The first thing I tried was Dan's email. It came up immediately. Not a good sign. If there were anything to hide, he would probably hide it. I read through it anyway. There was nothing of any interest as far as his recent behavior was concerned. I felt pretty guilty reading through it too. Nonetheless, I fired up his Instant Messenger. I couldn't tell from the nicknames in his buddy list who they were. A message came up.

"Dude, did you see that game Clement pitched?"

Shit. It was as if Dan was online. Whoever was messaging him might ask Dan about it if he didn't get an answer.

"Amazing," I typed. I decided to get the hell off before I had to start answering other people. I wasn't sure that I could answer the way Dan would and someone might get suspicious. Maybe IM wasn't the way to go right now. I would have to think it through more thoroughly.

If he were visiting chat rooms, it would be in the browser's history unless he erased it. No. No chat rooms. But he was visiting something called Stories On Line. What was that, a porn site? Yuk. But it would mean that he isn't Mr. Perfect. Why does that bother me so much?

It turned out that it's not exactly a porn site. It looked like he'd been reading stories.

He seemed to focus on stories involving wives committing adultery. Occasionally a husband would be enraged and it would break up the marriage. But in most of the stories, either the husband arranged it or encouraged her. Or, despite being angry and jealous, he would be aroused and allow it to continue. What did this mean? What was it in these stories that would arouse him enough to come up and attack me? Some of the stories he read did have very unhappy endings. Was it adultery that excited him? I started to read some of the new stories in the "Cheating" and "Slut Wife" categories, the ones in which these stories were found.

Reading the stories gave me a better idea of why he would be reading stories with such different endings. You can't tell ahead of time what the ending will be. The guy is ready to explode in anger. He is going to charge in and beat the other man before he thrashes his wife within an inch of her life and, suddenly, he has an erection. He's so jealous he could kill, but then all he wants to do is watch and jerk off or maybe join in.

There were so few stories where the men ended up unhappy, that I concluded he must have been reading for the other kind of story. I mean why would you wade through a hundred stories to find one that turns you on?

And the women. The way they were portrayed told me that most of the stories were written by men. They acted like men with female genitalia, ruled by lust, unmindful of the potential consequences. As long as they got good sex, they were willing to throw away their marriages and their children and even their lives. They were thinking with their penises, except that they were women. Is that the kind of woman that interests him? Was he fantasizing about them when he came up to me?

Did he want me to act like that? Was he fantasizing about me cheating on him? I certainly hoped not because I had no intention of doing that. It was unthinkable.

But I thought about it. It repulsed me. But it appealed to me in a way as well. I would never do anything like that. A woman could not act that way if she loved and valued her husband. But maybe it would be all right if I fantasized about it a little. I mean it's just a fantasy isn't it? I would never actually bring the fantasy to fruition. Why would this possibly appeal to me at all in any way? The behavior was reprehensible. Perhaps it was appealing because it appealed to Dan and I would do anything to please him.

I've read that groups are better at solving problems than individuals; that decisions made by groups are almost always superior to decisions made by the individuals alone. Maybe that research proves the adage, "Two heads are better than one." I decided to take advantage of Cheryl's head.

"Hi, Cheryl. I wanted to talk about what's going on with me and Dan."

"So you snooped."

"Yes." I could probably have said more. I wanted to talk about it and I didn't.

"You're not very talkative. Is it bad?"

"I'm ambivalent and I'm confused, so I guess I sound hesitant. Maybe I am hesitant. But I know I'm going to talk about it, so we should just do it."

"Well, Beth, I really don't know what to say. You haven't told me anything, girlfriend."

"Okay. Here goes." It wasn't exactly flowing off my tongue. "He's reading stories." This wasn't easy to talk about.

"He's what, reading Steel Magnolias and you're afraid he's a girly man? What?"

"He's reading stories about women who cheat on their husbands. They get seduced. Or the husband asks them to do it or sets it up. Sometimes they just decide they need it on their own." This much I had blurted out. That was actually best, because it would have been torture to try to get it out a little at a time. Cheryl didn't say anything. I wondered if she too was disgusted with the whole idea. "And however they get to that point, it turns the husbands on that their wives are having other men."


"Yeah. I don't know how I feel or what to do. I mean I'm just kind of in shock, you know?"

"I can understand being in shock. That's kind of a lot to absorb."

"It's, I don't know, it's, it's awful. How could any man want his wife to do that? It's sick."

"Well, it is strange. I can't really say if it's sick. I mean some married people do it without ever seeing each other naked. Some only do it with the lights out. Some won't do anything but missionary. What I think of as normal, healthy sex, they think of as sick. Some people like to be tied up and beaten. Some like one of the partners to put on a tail and be ridden like a horse. If a guy asked me to play horsey I'd put him out to corral. But it's pretty hard for me to condemn as sick, stuff other people agree to do with each other."

"So you don't condemn any behavior at all?"

"Well, Beth, there is a lot of stuff I won't do. But there isn't much I'll condemn other people for doing. I'll say this, if I had a guy like Danny, I would never, well, I guess I'm not sure what I'd do. I mean I'd like to do whatever he wants as long as it doesn't disgust me. But fooling around with other guys is so dangerous that I'd rather disappoint him by declining than risk losing him."

"But what if he wanted it? What if that's what's turning him on so much? Wouldn't you want to help him enjoy himself?"

"Sounds like you've already decided to do it."

"No. It's just a philosophical discussion. I mean the idea might turn him on, but it turns me off."

"Keep telling yourself that."

"It does. I have no interest. How could he like something like that?"

"You don't know that he does. Ask him."

"Then I'd have to tell him I didn't trust him and violated his privacy."

"Beth, just ask him why he's so worked up when he comes to you. Ask him what is turning him on. Ask him why he wants to do it more often. Tell him you love it and you're curious as to what it is that has benefited you so much. Don't guess. Ask him."

"I suppose I could. It would, I don't know, spoil any chance of surprising him."

"So you are thinking of doing it?"

"Of course not."

But I was. It was perverse but also kind of exciting in a strange way. I was thinking about it, but I wouldn't do it. It was okay to think about it, wasn't it?

I thought about it a lot. And it was exciting to think about. It wasn't the air conditioning making my nipples hard.

Would he admit it? Would it be too embarrassing? Would he come up with some lame excuse for reading those stories? Was it even remotely possible that I could do this for him? No. Maybe. No.

He continued to come up to the bedroom with a great deal of enthusiasm. I continued to dwell on the reason.

It was perverse. It was like being a kid again and being told not to do something. Don't smoke. Don't shoplift. They carried a subliminal message. "You want to smoke don't you? Wouldn't it be exciting to steal something? It's wrong, but wouldn't it be fun?" As a kid, the stimulation to do something wrong could be overpowering. But I was an adult now. That didn't eliminate the appeal.

Maybe I could be cooled down by the voice of reason.

"What is it that makes this so exciting to you, Beth?"

"I don't know Cheryl. Maybe that it's forbidden."

"It might not be forbidden if he wants it."

"Yeah. But it's forbidden by society and religion and most codes of morality."

"But not by Danny. You did talk to him about it, didn't you?"

I didn't answer.

"You did talk to him about it? What are you thinking? You're going to do this without even talking to him? Are you insane?"

"I'm not going to do it. I'm just thinking about it and finding the thought exciting."

"Well, if you do it without talking to him, I want first crack at him when he dumps you. You know I've been aching to find a guy like Danny. And Danny himself, well, it doesn't get any better than that."

I was jealous. Really jealous, almost in a fury over what she had said. It was just a joke, I think. At least the part about first crack at him. I knew that if I weren't in the picture she would go after him with every fiber of her being. But every part of my body tightened up at hearing those words. If I was this jealous over a joke, how would Danny feel if I cheated on him?

"Too close to home?"

"I just, I never thought about it that way."

"Perhaps you should. Put aside the fact that you love him. Could you possibly find a guy so kind, so thoughtful, so giving? Forget that he's an absolute hunk and he's the smartest guy you know. Forget his sense of humor. Could you find such a great guy? Is there somebody else that special out there you could find if you screw this up?"

"God. The way you talk about him, it sounds like you're the one in love with him."

"Would that it could be."

"You are!"

"That's a surprise to you. You think I'm the only one? If something happened to you he'd have to hide to keep from being crushed by the crowd. Haven't you noticed at parties how he's hit on all the time?"

"No. I guess I'm paying more attention to what I'm doing. Who is hitting on him?"

"Who isn't? Married, single, relatives of yours. Geeze, even guys."

"Who? I'm going to tear them apart."

"What for? He blows them all off. As nicely as it is possible to do. Sometimes he flirts back to make them feel good. But it is clear that he is just playing, and that he has no serious intention of returning their interest. He's devoted to you."

"Then why the stories? What's behind that?"

"Ask him. I can't tell you."

"Maybe I will."

"Maybe? You're still thinking of doing this?"

"It's not as exciting since I thought about him with somebody else. No. I don't know. I'm still confused."

"I'm not telling you what to do. But just think about what you stand to gain versus what you stand to lose."

"I will."

But I don't think I did. I never believed that what I was contemplating would cause Danny to leave me. He wanted it. How could he be upset? God, now I wasn't just thinking about it, I was contemplating it. I had gone from repulsed, no way, to it's interesting to think about, to it's exciting to think about to contemplating. Each change seemed just a small step. And yet here I was actually contemplating. How many small steps were left before the doing? I have contemplated many things I never actually did.

I wasn't looking for the next step. It just came naturally. The next step was who would I do this with. Again, I wasn't really planning on doing it, but it was part of thinking about doing it. I mean, if you're going to do this, it has to be with someone. Who would interest me? If I were to do this, it would have to be with someone I found appealing. The husbands always wanted their wives to enjoy themselves.

I looked at the men where I work. A few of them were very attractive, but this would be a very bad idea. I didn't really know what Danny had in mind, but whether this would be a one-time thing or an ongoing situation, doing it with someone I work with could lead to problems. It might get out and I would be too embarrassed to continue working there. The man might want more of a relationship than I was willing to offer. We might get fired. The risks were unacceptable.

Where do I find him then? I'm a married woman. I don't go out to bars looking for guys. I do go out with the girls sometimes. But what would they think if I met a guy and went off with him? They might be my friends, but I'd quickly get a reputation as a complete slut.

They say a girl can get laid anytime she wants. I don't think it's that easy unless you have no fear of everyone finding out and judging you.

This didn't seem like something I could talk to Cheryl about. She had been pretty clear about how dangerous, she thought this might be. I didn't think she would want to give advice about how to pick out the guy.

So the next small step was switching thinking from who the guy would be to where I would find him. It could be at the market. It could be at the mall. Maybe in the food court while I was shopping. All of this was turning into a fun fantasy for me. Whether I could actually do it was another matter altogether.

Was this just like any other decision? You would think about buying a new car. Next you would set a price range. Then you would think about the body type. Do you want a two-door, a sedan, a hatchback? Perhaps an SUV. What manufacturer do you prefer? What color? You go in to test drive a few of the candidates. Each step takes you a little closer to buying a new car that you might not even need or be able to afford. Until you write a check and sign the financing documents, you're just enjoying a fantasy. When you sign, you make it a reality.

Perhaps I was picking out the body type and looking at the various models, but I certainly hadn't gotten to the test drive stage.

I started checking out guys at the market. There wasn't much selection, and what was on display was not very appealing.

All this time, things were still going great with Danny. How could I possibly be thinking about this? How could I stop thinking about this?

I had avoided speaking of any of this with Cheryl. But, either she was an even better friend than I had given her credit for or she was more of a buttinsky then I realized.

"So, what did you guys decide to do about the other man?"

"What we actually do is too personal to talk about."

"You didn't talk to him, did you?" She was also more perceptive than I had realized.

"No. But I didn't do anything. I'm just thinking."

"It's been a couple weeks since we talked. If you're still thinking about it, you're more than just thinking about it."

"Oh come on. You never spent a lot of time deciding whether to do something and then decided not to?"

"So now it's deciding, not thinking."

"You know what I mean. It's just semantics. I'm not deciding whether to have other guys."

"Methinks the lady doth protest too much."

"English major."


Of course she was kidding. This was just the normal banter we often engaged in. But they do say that there is an element of truth in every joke.

How could she know if I was really deciding what to do? I didn't even know if I was deciding.

"One more thing, Beth. On a serious note. Talk to Danny. And if, for some reason, you decide not to do that, talk to Danny."

Maybe she had a point. I didn't want to talk about it directly, though. That would require me to admit that I had been snooping at his computer and that I didn't trust him.

While I was figuring out how to approach Danny, life went on. I was at the mall shopping for a pair of earrings when I discovered it might not be as difficult as I had imagined to find someone to have a fling with.

"Those amethyst earrings would look great on you. They're perfect for your color."

I turned to see a good looking man, mid 30's, dark hair, slim build, dark blue professional suit, maybe a lawyer or an accountant. He had a warm smile, not too big, and a wedding band.

"I would certainly buy them for you if I were your husband."

"Would you? I wonder if the husband I actually have will buy them for me."

"If he won't, I will."

I placed my right hand on my breastbone, just above my cleavage. "Sir, I don't even know you."

"That's easily remedied." He held out his hand. "Frank Phillips."

I shook his hand. "Beth." It was only flirting. He didn't need my last name.

"Beth, a beautiful woman like you should be adorned with beautiful jewelry. If your husband is foolish enough not to do it, I feel honor bound to match the gems with a gem."

"What would your wife think?"

"I won't tell her if you don't."

"Why Frank, whatever do you have in mind?"

"Nothing other than to do justice to a beautiful woman."

"If I were a suspicious woman, I might think you have an ulterior motive."

"If you were a suspicious woman, I might."

Not that it was difficult to tell just from his conversation, but his body language left no doubt either. If I were to give him the slightest encouragement, he would nail me without a thought. I wasn't ready for that. "Oh, look at the time. My husband will be wondering what has become of me."

"What has become of you?"

"I've enjoyed the afternoon shopping. Perhaps some other time he will be kind enough to buy me these earrings."

"You don't have to go, do you?"

"I'm afraid I do. It was nice meeting you Frank." I put out my hand.

He took it. He held onto it much longer than was appropriate. He squeezed. "Perhaps we'll meet again some other Saturday afternoon." He released me.


I didn't tell him he was being too forward. I didn't tell him I was a happily married woman. I didn't tell him I did not take gifts from strangers. I did nothing to discourage him except to tell him not today. It was only flirting, wasn't it? It didn't mean anything.

Finally I steeled myself to have the conversation with Danny.

"Do you think I'm still attractive?"

"Beth, you're 28. Are we going to be having this same conversation for the next 50 years?"

"You mean you're going to dump me for a younger woman when I reach 78?"

"I've been thinking about it."

"I knew it. I'm losing my looks."

"You're not losing your looks. But what difference would it make? I love you for your generous heart. I love you for your kindness. I love you for your adventurous spirit. I love you for your sense of humor, your intelligence. And, of course, you're dynamite."

"Sure, you have to say that. You're my husband." Generous? Does that mean with my body? Adventurous? I'm willing to try other guys? Is he trying to give me some kind of code?

"Come on. You must have seen other guys looking at you when we go out or when we go to a party. I'm sure you see it at work too."

"Doesn't that make you jealous?" This was where I had been directing the whole conversation. Where was he on jealousy? Maybe that would help me figure out what he was thinking.

"Why would I be jealous? It would be selfish to keep such a rare beauty to myself. After all, it's me you come home to."

Aha! He doesn't want to have me just for himself. Or is he just sucking up? "I don't know. I don't think most guys feel that way."

"I'm the luckiest guy in the world just to have you. I can't get worked up because other guys admire your face or your legs or your butt. Hell, they'd be crazy not to."

"I think somebody just wants to be a lucky guy tonight."

"I think you're right. Any night. You just say the word." He moved close and put his arms around me. "And the word could just be, 'Yes.'" He moved in for a deep searing kiss that I felt all the way down to my toes. My legs felt wobbly.

Our mouths separated so we could refresh the air in our lungs. "I'm so glad that you're not the possessive type."

"Slavery was abolished some time ago. We're together because we choose to be. We're together because we love and respect and trust each other, not because I can tell you what to do. And definitely not because you can tell me what to do."

"Though this be madness, yet there is method in't."

"You've been talking to Cheryl. I love it when you talk dirty."

Dan did just fine without using his computer to work him up.

The situation was pretty clear to me. As long as I returned to him, he was happy to share me with other men. And he trusted me to return to him. His trust was well placed. I had no interest in having a life with anyone but Danny.

Our anniversary was approaching and I really had no idea what to get him. I had no idea what he was getting me either. I should have told him about those earrings.

As the day drew nearer I was no closer to coming up with a gift that would please him. There would be no point in getting him any software. Not only did he get whatever he needed, he knew better than I what would be useful to him and what would be fun.

He loves to watch baseball. Maybe I could get him the major league package. Then he could watch several games almost every day of the season. Oops. Bad idea. If he's watching that much baseball, when will he have time for me?

Maybe I could get him a book. No. He's already doing plenty of reading on his computer.

My deliberations were interrupted by the phone on my desk.

"Hi, sweetie. I know I didn't check with you in advance but I wanted to make sure I could get reservations. I booked us at The Rose Tattoo. If that's a problem, I can cancel and find something else."

"That is so romantic. You always seem to know what I want."

"I try to pay attention," he said.

"Is that good for you, too? We can go somewhere else if that would make you happier."

"I'll be with you. Who cares where we go?"

"And I'd follow you to Taco Bell if that's what you want."

"That won't be necessary. I'm happy with my reservation."

"And I'm happy with my reservator, or whatever you call it."

We had plans but, as yet, I had no gift.

This was serious. Our anniversary fell on a Saturday this year and here it was. I had nothing. I could just explain to him that I hadn't been able to come up with anything special enough for him. He would understand and be very gracious about it. He would go out of his way to make me feel comfortable about not getting him a present. I'd be damned if I would let him get away with that.

I would go to the mall. I'd see something there as I shopped that would fire my imagination.

But I hadn't. It was nearly one and I was hungry and frustrated. I suppose that's why, when I got to the food court, I decided that the appropriate lunch would be Boardwalk Fries. I bought the big cup. By the time I paid the cashier, I had already polished off half a dozen and I was starting to feel better. We often instinctively know the proper medication.

"You've got to tell me how you keep that incredible figure eating like that."

He was rugged looking, dressed like he was ready to go on a hike rather than go shopping at a mall, although the hiking gear was all brand-name. He had dark, wavy hair, kind of long, and sported a roguish smile. I put him at midlife crisis years old. The flashy jewelry definitely didn't match the outfit.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm sorry. My wife sometimes eats stuff like that and her body no longer looks anything like yours. I was just looking for any pointers you might be willing to share."

Definitely midlife crisis. But he was good looking and had been working his line long enough that he did it quite charmingly. "Maybe it's just age. Maybe I'll spread out when I get older."

The age reference didn't slow him down for an instant. "True. I don't usually get to talk to teenagers about this stuff."

"You know I'm older than that." Don't you?

"Not necessarily."

He was probably blowing smoke, but he could be sincere. I chose to believe it. "I'm not that young, but thanks for the compliment."

"You must get it all the time. You not only look young and svelte, but you're gorgeous."

"And you're very smooth."

"No. It's true. Excuse me, sir, is this woman not gorgeous?"

I couldn't help but laugh.

He had picked out a paunchy man with thinning gray hair who hesitated before speaking, like he was uncomfortable to be put in the spotlight. "She is gorgeous. I don't think I've seen anyone nicer all day."

"Okay," said midlife, "Let's get some more opinions."

"No." I stopped him. "I believe you. But, you're still smooth."

"Can I join you? We'll just sit here, have lunch and chat. That way I'll get to enjoy your beauty just a little longer."

"Aren't you laying it on a bit thick?" But I was enjoying the attention.

"You heard chubby guy. You're gorgeous."

"Well, just for lunch." I guess I was getting into this. He hadn't asked for more but I was implying that he had been implying more.

"I guess you get this kind of thing all the time, guys telling you how fabulous you are."

"Not all the time. But I am fabulous." I munched a few more fries.

He had General Tzo's chicken. He ate it carefully so he could continue his verbal seduction. "Your husband is a lucky man."

"Yes, he is."

"But he is a foolish man."

"Oh? How so?"

"If you were my wife, we'd be spending Saturday in bed, awake."

"But there aren't any really good shows on Saturday afternoon."

"Perhaps. But that's not the reason the television would be off."

I blushed. This seemed to be going pretty far. But it was only flirting, wasn't it?

No one spoke for a while. We just continued eating. But his eyes never left mine. He was really attractive, appealing. Would I have ever thought this, been in this position had Dan not been interested? No. It didn't even take reflection. I would have dismissed midlife politely but firmly.

"What are you thinking about?" he finally asked. "I know what I'm thinking about."

"And what would that be?" Was I moving into dangerous territory?

"Making love to your beautiful body all day. As your husband, of course."

"Of course." Why didn't I object? This was way beyond appropriate.

"I have a small confession."

"What's that?"

"It's just possible that I might think it not as your husband, but as a stranger whose name you don't even know."

"Just possible?"

"It may be happening as we speak."

"And how will you find out if it is happening?" It was at that point that I suddenly realized that I had been becoming aroused. I was aroused. I felt a little shiver.

"I guess I'll have to consult myself. Yes. It's happening. I can see myself making love to you all afternoon."

"That's pretty bold." But I had given him no indication whatsoever that I wanted him to stop his seduction.

"You don't have the most fantastic experiences of your life by just sitting on the sidelines and doing nothing."

That applied to me too, didn't it? "No, you don't."

"This has been a delightful lunch. Could I interest you in an even more intoxicating dessert?"

Would I? Could I? If someone had suggested to me before I got married even the possibility that I could be unfaithful, I would not even have dignified the comment with a response. It would have been too absurd to address. Was it really unfaithful? Danny wanted me to do it. What better anniversary present to give him than his fantasy?

"I might have some interest in that."

We got up and he took the lead out of the mall. He didn't say anything. He was probably honoring the principle that once you've made the sale, stop selling.

Mr. Midlife had a red, two-seater Mercedes convertible. When this guy did midlife crisis, he did it all the way.

In just five minutes we were at a motel and he had a key in under a minute. He had done this before. He drove around the back and parked. Ever the gentleman, he quickly bounded around the car to open my door for me.

The room was clean but unremarkable. We weren't there for the decor.

He took me in his arms and I got the first serious kiss from someone other than Dan since well before we got married. It was different but I liked it. My body liked it.

He slipped the spaghetti straps of my black dress from my shoulders. It dropped to the floor, leaving me in strappy black heels, a black, lacy demi-bra and high-cut black silk panties. The whole thing was exciting, both the forbidden nature of it and the freedom from guilt in knowing that Danny wanted me to do it.

I unbuttoned his shirt and removed it as he unhooked my bra. I let it drop to the floor. My nipples were so engorged they felt as if they might actually burst from the pressure. He ran his fingers over them and my eyes closed involuntarily as I moaned from the exquisite sensation.

I reveled in it for a while before I reached down to unbutton his jeans. I lowered the zipper and pushed them down his legs. It was not sufficient. He moved to the bed and removed his shoes so that he could complete his separation from his jeans, which he placed on the bed beside him. He stood and opened his arms to beckon me. I moved to him.

We started kissing passionately and explored the upper half of each other's bodies with our hands. When I felt his fingers grasp the waistband of my panties, I slid my fingers into the waistband of his briefs. They slid down easily. My panties were more difficult. They were so wet they briefly stuck to me as he attempted to push them down.

His body was nothing special. It was not well-muscled but neither did it have much excess fat. His penis was nothing special either, though I'm not sure what it would have taken to make it special. At least it was erect. Had it not been, I would have been very insulted.

He reached for his jeans, removed a condom from the pocket and held it up toward me as if to ask if we would be using it. It was not an easy decision. I was on the pill, so pregnancy was not an issue. If he was careful enough to suggest protection with a complete stranger, he was probably doing the same with the others he had surely bedded and was, thus, likely disease-free. Did I want to take that small risk? What would Dan want? I thought back to the stories. The overwhelming majority used no protection. Of course disease never happens in stories. But the main reason was that the husbands liked seeing the graphic evidence of their wives' indiscretions with other men. I would do it for Dan. I took it from him and tossed it on the floor.

I remember all of this in considerable detail because up to that point I was still being seduced. There was still some small possibility I could change my mind and leave. That possibility was gone now.

In some ways it was not as good as it was with Dan and in some ways it was much better. He paid attention to pleasing me. But it was as if it were important to show his own prowess, rather than to give me a memorable experience. Still, the freshness of his being the first man to use my body since I had met Dan made it terribly exciting.

Midlife did his best to please me, and he was successful. But Danny pleased me to please himself. He was never more excited than he was driving me crazy. Midlife did it because that's what a good lover does.

I wanted to bring as much of the experience as I could to Dan. I made sure we did it missionary, cowgirl and doggy. We pleased each other orally as well. We spent the better part of the afternoon giving and receiving orgasms. It may sound somewhat clinical as I recount what we did, but it was thrilling and urgent, full of passion and completely free of inhibition.

When midlife was done, he took a shower to remove the evidence that would have gotten him in trouble with his wife. I did not. I wanted to bring it home and share it with my Dan.

He took me to my car and I drove home feeling as satisfied as I had ever been. Despite that, I felt my excitement rising at the thought of sharing my adventure with Danny.

He was in the living room and I extended my hand to ask him to join me.

"Happy anniversary, sweetie," he said.

He took my hand and I led him upstairs toward the bedroom. "I have a special anniversary treat for you my love."

When we arrived I pointed a finger at him and twirled it in a circular motion which he correctly interpreted as requesting him to undress. I slid each strap down separately and slowly, giving him my most seductive look. He was not so deliberate. His clothes practically flew from his body. It was much better than midlife. He had no excess fat and he had well-defined muscles, not bulky but well defined. He too had an erection at the ready. It was nice to know that I could arouse him without his having to resort to his fantasies. He had no way of knowing that I had taken care of it for him today.

I let the dress slip to my waist and held it there. I removed the bra. I turned my back to him and let the dress drop. Slowly, very slowly, I slid the panties toward the floor. I looked at him over my shoulder. "Danny, I went out of my way to bring you a very special anniversary gift." He had a look of lust on his face and I thought he might rush me. "I've given you the gift of fulfilling your fantasy."

His look of lust was gone. It had been replaced by one of confusion. "What fantasy? We never talked about any fantasy."

"You didn't tell me, but I confess that I was naughty. I got onto your computer and read your stories."

"What?" He looked shocked. Wonderful! I had taken him completely by surprise.

"I read the stories and figured you wouldn't do anything about it so I gave you your fantasy." I turned toward him and gave him my brightest smile. I could see him looking at the mess making its way down the inside of my thighs.

"How could you not talk with me about this?" There was an urgency in his voice. It wasn't passion.

"You're too nice to bring this up with me. I knew the only way your fantasy would ever be fulfilled would be if I did it for you. I would think you would show more appreciation for my initiative."

"I can't believe you did this without talking to me. What were you thinking?" His volume was rising.

"I told you. You weren't going to ask so I had to do it on my own. Happy anniversary, honey."

"It was just a fantasy. I had no intention of doing anything to make it happen. I would never have let it happen."

"I know. That's why I did it for you."

"You don't understand. I -"

"I do understand. That's why I took the initiative. I love you so much I would do anything for you."

"No. You don't understan - "

"Yes, I do," I insisted. "Every night you would go down and read those stories and come up to me on fire. I just wanted to give you what you wanted but couldn't tell me about."

"It's not what I wanted. You don't - "

"If it's not what you wanted -"

"Shut up and listen." That was as loud as he had ever spoken to me.

"Don't take that tone with me. I really put myself out there for you. It took a lot for me to satisfy your secret desires."

"That isn't what I wanted. You don't understand at all. My - "

"Stop it," I told him. "I understand. You don't have to be embarrassed about your desires, your fantasies. You don't have to be defensive."

I noticed that he had lost his erection. When had that happened? I noticed it as he started putting on his socks and his boxers.

"I'm trying to tell you -," he said as he picked up his shirt.

"I'm telling you it's okay honey. I understand and I still love you." He put on his shirt and picked up his pants. This was not how I expected it to go. The clothing was supposed to come off, not on.

"You don't understand at all. I'm trying -"

"Everything's okay." He fastened his pants. " I'm not angry or upset. I -"

"Shut up and listen you stupid adulteress." I had never heard him shout before. This was also the meanest thing he had ever said to me. It got my attention.

He pulled on his shoes. "It was just a fantasy. I never would have done anything or allowed anything to happen to make my fantasy a reality. That would have been unthinkable."

"I just -"

"Shut up." Forceful, but no longer yelling. He knelt down and started tying his shoes. "What you did was not my fantasy. You read the stories. In my fantasy, I'm the evil heartless prick who seduces married women, debauches them, gets them to betray their husbands, humiliates them and their husbands, destroys their marriages and walks away without the slightest regret. That's my fantasy. Not being the guy whose wife totally betrays him."

He said it with a measured voice that did not succeed in hiding his rage.

I tried to cover myself with my hands.

He walked out of the room and down the stairs. I heard the front door slam.

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Story tagged with:
Ma/Fa / Cheating / Slow /