by C. C. Morian
Melissa froze. This was kind of quick.
Bob noticed her hesitation. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have suggested that. I realize you don’t know me from Adam. There’s another bar on the top floor; it’s a little nicer than this. Maybe we could talk a bit.”
That sounded okay.
But although part of her was oddly disappointed. Melissa had a brief thought of bar hopping in the tougher part of town, doing something really wild.
“What kind of music do they play up there?” she asked.
“Mostly rock, some ballads,” Bob replied. “Conventioneers aren’t kids.” Then, stumbling, he quickly added, “Not that you are old.”
Melissa couldn’t help liking him. He was so polite. “Good. I hate jazz.”
Bob smiled appreciatively. “Thank God,” he said. “So do I. I only suggested it because it’s supposed to sound cultured.”
He pulled out his wallet and dropped two twenties on the bar. “I’ll get these,” he said.
Melissa took a last sip of her drink and said, “Lead the way.”
“Only if you promise at some point to let me see those legs of yours walking,” he said, lifting his eyebrows. “You had pants on in the restaurant.”
Melissa looked down, smiling inwardly. The legs had done it. “These?” she asked innocently.
Bob got up. “Now who’s laying it on?”
He led the way through the bar, looking back to make sure she was following, as if he couldn’t believe his luck. For some reason it made Melissa think of Vern; how different this man was. If Vern had told her to leave with him, he wouldn’t have looked back, he would just assume she would have followed.
As Melissa walked across the room she again searched for Richard. She finally spotted him, his eyes wide, sitting in a booth, alone, a drink on the table. She had to watch where she was going, there were a lot of people in the way, so she couldn’t get a good look at him. She gestured with her head, then touched her lapel, covertly pointing up with her finger, hoping he would understand she was going to the other bar.
Melissa didn’t have a chance to see if he had seen her message; Bob was waiting for her at the door. They walked together to the elevator and got on with a few other people. In the back of the car Melissa felt Bob shuffle nervously. Her mind was on Richard, and she suddenly wondered if he was thinking that she was going back to the room.
Shit.
She couldn’t do anything about that now. The elevator made its way up, Melissa fretting. The doors opened and they walked into a windowed roof top bar and restaurant. This one was a little less crowded, the music turned down a few decibels. A sign on a small pedestal read ‘Tables reserved for dinner patrons only.’
“Do you want anything to eat?” Bob asked.
“Not really,” said Melissa.
“Okay. The bar it is.”
They found two stools together at the semicircular bar along the windows. Melissa looked back over her shoulder, wondering if she’d be able to see Richard if he came in. Maybe it would be better if she didn’t; she wasn’t sure she would be able to hide any reaction from Bob.
“Nice view, isn’t it?” Bob said.
Melissa turned back to the window. “Yes,” she said absently, focusing instead on the reflection of the restaurant in the glass. She couldn’t see details, but she’d be able to tell if someone came off the elevator. A waitress came to take their drink order.
“Chardonnay, something not too dry but not sweet,” said Melissa. “If you have something like that.”
“That sounds good for me too,” said Bob.
“You were drinking beer downstairs,” said Melissa.
“You noticed?” He shrugged. “Nicer bar, nicer alcohol.”
Melissa wondered if Bob had ordered wine just because she had. He seemed eager to please her, and although he was obviously not inexperienced with women, he appeared a little nervous.
He was handsome enough, but the little excitement she felt downstairs from the banter was wearing off; Bob wasn’t exactly her type.
No, she corrected herself. In fact, he was a lot like Richard: polite, reasonably witty, clean, smart. It wasn’t that he wasn’t her type, it’s that he wasn’t the type that got her turned on.
Bob swiveled in his stool, his leg grazing hers. She felt. . . nothing. Not a hint of a spark.
Melissa sighed, wondering what she should do next. Try to extricate herself? Or play this out?
The waitress brought their drinks, and as Melissa turned to look, she noticed the elevator opening on the other side of the bar. Richard practically burst out of the doors, his eyes a little frantic, looking around the room. Even with the distance Melissa could tell he was worked up about something.
Richard’s eyes settled on her, and he froze, only moving when someone behind him on the elevator pushed past him. Melissa frowned, asking him a silent question, her mouth forming the word What?, hoping Bob wouldn’t notice.
Richard noticeably relaxed, composing himself, pretending to be looking for someone. This would be Melissa’s chance to get away, she only had to tell Bob that her husband was here, thanks for the drink. . .
But Richard walked to the other side of the bar and took a seat, and her chance was gone. Melissa understood what had happened; Richard must have thought she had gone back to the room with Bob, and somehow had figured out that she hadn’t, and he was worried about where she had disappeared to. But how would Richard have known either way? Would he have gone into their room, thinking she might be there with Bob?
She’d ask Richard about that later. In the meantime, Richard’s emotion had given her a little idea. The dj was spinning ‘All of My Love.’ Maybe she could salvage something from this after all.
“Let’s dance,” she said suddenly, and grabbed Bob by the hand, leading him to the dance floor.
Melissa knew how to dance, she always had. She hadn’t done much of it lately, since Richard wasn’t into dancing. Bob seemed into it but he wasn’t very good, another letdown. Or he was trying too hard, which would have been cute if the situation was different. Melissa saved him, putting her arms around his neck, pulling him a little closer so they were doing kind of a rhythmic slow dance.
She glanced over Bob’s shoulder and was rewarded by the look on Richard’s face. He was staring at them on the dance floor, mesmerized. If anyone was looking at him they would have probably thought he was in a trance. Melissa smiled at her husband, then dramatically closed her eyes and pulled Bob a little closer.
She felt Bob stiffen, then hesitatingly hold her a little tighter. Melissa could feel his nerves, his tenseness. They stayed that way through the song and the next, every so often Melissa turning so she could see Richard. At one point a waitress came to take his drink, and it looked like she had to ask him twice before he could tear his eyes off of Melissa.
A faster song came on, and Melissa broke away, not wanting to have to make Bob dance to it. “I need my drink.” She headed back to the bar and Bob followed along behind.
Bob watched her as she took a sip of her wine. He was leaning toward her, his eyes bright. She was sure he was hoping this would lead somewhere.
All at once Melissa felt terrible. Here she was, leading this poor sweet guy on. She certainly wasn’t going to sleep with him. Even if she hadn’t been married, he just wasn’t doing it for her, she wasn’t feeling at all aroused by him.
For just a brief moment, she wondered: What if she had been? What would happen? What would she allow to happen?
“That was nice,” Bob said. He must have meant the dance.
“You are too,” said Melissa, meaning it. What she didn’t add was And that’s the problem.
Back in her room, Melissa dropped onto the bed. It had been a little awkward getting away from Bob; he clearly had some expectations, and Melissa had resorted to telling him that she had to meet her husband. Bob looked crestfallen, and Melissa felt even worse. She had given him a chaste kiss on the cheek, telling him that she had a great t
ime, and thanking him for the drinks and for helping her pass the time.
Melissa had glanced at Richard as she had left the restaurant with Bob. She recognized Richard’s look, that combination of worry, jealousy, pride, and excitement. She gave him a wink, not knowing how he’d take it.
A few other people were in the elevator, making things a little easier for Melissa when they reached her floor. She turned to Bob and said, “Good night,” and stepped out. She wasn’t surprised when he didn’t try to follow her, to give it one last shot. He seemed too much the gentleman.
Melissa had a brief flash of him pushing past the other people just as the doors closed, shoving her against the wall and kissing her, not caring who might see them. But she knew that a guy like Bob would never do that. Which made her immediately think about Vern again, about how he had done exactly that, forcing a kiss on her.
Melissa thought she heard a sound from the living room adjoining the bedroom. Was that Richard?
She got up and opened the connecting door, and was surprised to find him standing almost against the door.
“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t want to disturb you in case. . .”
Melissa was flabbergasted. “In case I wasn’t alone? Did you think I’d bring a stranger back to our hotel room?”
Richard shrugged. “I saw the two of you together, dancing, you looked like you were having a good time. I thought you, you know, found someone you liked.”
“This was all for your benefit,” she flared, immediately angry, but not exactly sure why. She had dreamed up this whole idea, she had instigated everything, the trip, the dancing with Bob. Then something occurred to her. “Is that why you got the suite? So you could listen in from the other room?”
Richard turned away briefly, then looked back at her. “Yes.”
Melissa didn’t know what to say. Part of her was appalled; she had played out that fantasy game with Richard about him seeing her in the restaurant, but it had been all for fun, just something in their minds. This was real.
“Is that what your really want? To hear me, to maybe see me, having sex with another man?”
Richard’s look was pained. “I honestly don’t know,” he admitted. “When I saw you leave the bar downstairs, I rushed out, just to make sure you were okay. I watched you get into the elevator, going up, and I thought—I thought you were going to the room. So I waited a few minutes, then snuck in through the living room door. Part of me just wanted to make sure you were safe, that nothing bad would happen, I could get to you in a second, but a part of me—.” His voice trailed off.
“What?” asked Melissa. “Say it. I need to hear you say it.”
Richard took a deep breath. “Part of me wanted it to happen. I got excited thinking of what you might be doing, how far it would go.”
Melissa knew she should be livid, this was way past the fantasy, way past her just flirting with some stranger. This was her husband, saying he wanted her to have sex with another man, with a man he had just seen her with. Real sex.
But looking at her husband, Melissa’s anger dissipated. She saw how conflicted Richard was, how he couldn’t explain his own reactions, how he was both terrified and excited about the prospect. And she couldn’t deny that she had spent a lot of nights in her marriage, some of them actually while she was having sex with Richard, thinking of other men. Who was she to judge him?
And, shockingly, as she thought about Richard, crouched against the door, listening, while she was just a few feet away having sex, a shiver ran through her. A whole host of things all going on at once. The buzz from being able to get a man interested in her. The rush from doing something dangerous. The hot pleasure of being with the kind of man she had always gravitated toward, someone so unlike a Richard or a Bob.
And the thought of Richard, listening to her, so close but almost helpless.
Softening her voice, Melissa asked, “How far would you have wanted it to go?”
Richard hesitated briefly. “As far as you wanted.”
“Really?” asked Melissa. She wondered if that were true. “What if the guy was all over me, that as soon as we got in the room he had his hands on me, pulling off my clothes?”
“What? Just like that?”
Melissa knew this hadn’t occurred to him, because it wasn’t how Richard would seduce a woman. She grabbed his hand and roughly placed it on her breast. “Just like that.”
Richard groped her. “Is that the kind of thing you like?”
“He’s taking me,” said Melissa. “It’s not what I like, it’s what he wants. And that makes me want it.” She pulled up her skirt, pushing Richard’s hand down along with her panties, unzipping herself, helping him strip her from the waist down.
Richard was on his knees now, and she thrust herself at him, grabbing him by the back of the head, and she could sense his shock, this change in her, this frenzy. He put his lips on her, gentle, but she shoved her hips forward, grinding against him, rough, and her head swam, thinking not of Richard or Bob or anyone she knew, but of some stranger, some hard, tough man, but she was in control this time, she was going to get hers first.
Melissa closed her eyes, getting lost in it, wondering if something like this could really happen. Her getting licked by a stranger while her husband listened or even watched.
She could feel Richard’s enthusiasm, he was licking her, but nowhere near as hard as she wanted right then.
She needed more.
Melissa goaded him on. “If some man were doing this to me in the next room, and you knew it, what would you be doing?”
She felt Richard’s grip slip from her thigh and she looked down to see that he was freeing himself from his slacks, his erection bursting out into his hand.
“I see,” she said. “You’d be stroking yourself. You mean, some man has his tongue in my pussy, and you are masturbating?” Her words had their effect, he started licking her madly, his tongue slapping up and down on her clit. Melissa pretended she was surprised, but she was getting turned on even more, not only from what he was doing with his mouth, but of the entire thought of it, of Richard so aroused that he would not only be letting it happen, but would be jerking himself off.
“I bet you could hear me from the next room,” she said. “I’d be moaning. You’d hear me.” Melissa watched, mesmerized, as Richard’s hands moved faster, her mind sliding between the two titillating thoughts, her being licked by someone, and her watching Richard’s reaction.
She closed her eyes again, listening to the increasing intensity of his breathing, hearing his hand racing up and down his cock.
“Would you want me to come?” she asked, and she felt him nod, his head grazing her thighs.
“But if he made me come, I’d have to do something for him too,” she said. “I’d have to get on my knees and suck his cock. Or maybe he’d want to fuck me.” She opened her legs wider. “I bet you would really hear that.”
Richard’s hand moved even faster and Melissa looked down at him, and she felt so powerful, so in charge. Even as she imagined herself getting shoved down on her knees to take a cock in her mouth, even as she dreamed of someone ramming her against the wall, taking her, she felt that she was running the whole show, she was having it all, being taken, and yet in charge, of her desire, of the sex.
Richard moaned, and he erupted, his hot cum shooting all the way onto her calf, running down her leg, and the sensation sent her into a powerful orgasm, her juices flooding onto his face, her spasms lasting long after Richard’s jets had ended.
Chapter 7
Later, in bed together, lying side by side, Melissa feeling Richard’s warmth, hearing his breathing, knowing he was also still awake.
“You really would have let someone do it to me,” she said. Melissa kept her voice steady, she didn’t want to sound accusatory, she was past thinking it was something she should be angry about.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “It just turns me on so much. Maybe it will go away.”
Me
lissa turned, propping herself up on an elbow. The room was dimly light by the glow of some lights outside, sneaking in past the edge of the drapes. “Don’t apologize. I’m starting to understand.” She hesitated. “It excites me too.”
Richard turned to her; in the semi darkness it was hard to read his face. “Do you think it will be enough? This play acting? For us?”
Melissa took a deep breath and fell back down on the bed, staring at the red light of the smoke detector, as if it could help guide her. “I don’t know, honesty I don’t.”
“The man you were with? Would you have slept with him? If you had known that’s really what I wanted?”
Melissa didn’t have to think about that. “No.”
“Why not?”
Once again she felt herself on thin ice. How to answer without making Richard feel insecure, without adding to his belief that their problems were his fault?
But she had come this far, she couldn’t stop now. “He was too nice.”
There was a long silence, and Melissa immediately knew that Richard realized the implication of her admission. That she needed someone different, someone who wasn’t a nice guy. Someone that wasn’t like Bob.
Someone not like Richard.
After such a long time that Melissa wondered if Richard was so hurt that he didn’t want to continue the conversation, he surprised her when he said, “Someone else then? Would you have done it with someone else, if they turned you on?”
Her first response was to say Of course not, but was that really true? What did Richard want, reassurance or the truth?
What did she want?
“I don’t know. Really I don’t. Maybe. I’d probably have to be a little drunk.”
Another long silence. Then, “Wow. So you’d do it? For real?”
Melissa could hear in his voice what she had seen in his face, the surprise at what he was learning about her, the fear, yet with the undercurrent of wishfulness.