Message-ID: <21700asstr$944644201@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Cc: tonytony3@juno.com Subject: {ASSM} Tonytony3's "A Voyeur's Wife's Story" 1/2 <*> X-Original-Message-ID: <19991207.222507.-221801.0.tonytony3@juno.com> MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit X-Juno-Line-Breaks: 0-6,8-9,11-14,16,18-24,26,28,30-34,36-45,47-49,51-54,56,58,60-62,64,66-78,80-82,84-85,87-89,91-93,95-97,99-101,103,105-108,110,112,114,116,118,120,122,124,126,128-133,135,137,139-146,148,150,152,154,156-162,164,166,168-172,174,176-178,180,182,184,186-190,192-196,198-199,201,203-207,209,211-213,215,217-219,221,223-225,227,229-231,233,235-236,238-239,241,243,245-250,252,254-258,260,262-264,266,268-270,272,274-276,278-280,282,284-285,287,289,291,293,295,297,299-300,302-304,306,308-314,316-322,324-337,339,341-347,349,351,353,355-356,358-361,363,365,367,369-380,382-384,386,388-392,394,396,398-404,406,408-416,418,420,422,424-426,428-430,432,434,436,438,440,442,444,446,448,450,452,454,456,458,460,462,464,466,468-470,472,474,476-477,479,481,483-484,486,488,490,492-493,495-497,499,501,503,505-507,509,511,513-521,523-527,529-530,532,534,536-538,540-543,545,547,549,551-558,560-562,564,566-574,576,578-582,584,586-588,590-593,595-599,601-613,615,617-619,621-623,625-62! 9,631,633,635-637,639,641-643,645-647,649,651-654,656-658,660-667,669,671-673,675-678,680,682-684,686,688,690-700,702,704,706-708,710,712-716,718,720-721,723-726,728-731,733,735-739,741,743-746,748,750-752,754,756-761,763-769,771-772,774,776,778,780-782,784,786,788-790,792,794-798,800-809,811-812,814-815,817-819,821,823-825,827,829-830,832,834-842,844,846-852,854,856-860,862,864,866-869,871-873,875-877,879-880,882,884,886-887,889,891-901,903-908,910-914,916,918,920,922-924,926-928,930-931,933-939,941,943,945-947,949,951,953,955,957,959,961-963,965,967,969,971,973,975,977,979,981-982,984,986,988,990,992,994,996,998,1000,1002,1004,1006,1008-1010,1012,1014-1015,1017-1024,1026-1027,1029-1033,1035,1037-1041,1043,1045-1049,1051,1053-1060,1062-1064,1066,1068,1070,1072-1074,1076,1078-1082,1084,1086,1088,1090,1092,1094,1096,1098-1100,1102-1105,1107,1109-1110,1112,1114-1116,1118,1120-1122,1124,1126-1129,1131,1133-1138 X-Juno-Att: 0 X-Juno-RefParts: 0 From: tonytony3@juno.com X-To: story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us JMDigest-Score: good -4 Date: Wed, 8 Dec 1999 04:10:01 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: kelly, gill-bates -- 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 ___________________________________________________________________ Why pay more to get Web access? Try Juno for FREE -- then it's just $9.95/month if you act NOW! 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