Hot Dates: Becoming a Shared Wife

by McCurran, Kirsten

  “He touched me out there in front of everyone.”

  “I saw. I couldn’t believe you did that.” Dave’s voice was low, breathy.

  “Did what? Had a drink with another man?”

  “You know what I mean.” I knew Dave loved it, but it seemed he couldn’t quite bring himself to say what I’d done. That was odd, but it was okay. I learned it was fun to tease my husband.

  “Oh, you mean you can’t believe I let him put his hand up my dress?” I teased. He nodded. “His name was Charles, by the way. Charles knew what he wanted. He wanted to fuck your wife and when I told him no, he tried to convince me.”

  “Like this?” A finger pushed between my lips and found my clit. I gasped and swayed on my knees. I was past teasing. What I needed was to be fucked, but I didn’t want to cut this part short. I wanted to give Dave his payoff. He did not touch me the same way Charles did. Dave knew exactly what made me tremble after so many years of marriage and he rubbed me in that way that always turns me to jelly. Charles was skilled, but he did not know my body like my husband did.

  “He…fingered…me…” I was difficult to get the words out. Dave switched his attack, fingers filling me. “Oh God,” I whimpered. “Like that…while everyone watched. While you watched.”

  I leaned forward and grabbed his prick. He was full and heavy and more than ready for me. The head dripped in anticipation. I stroked his cock and his body stiffened. “You watched another man make me cum.”

  “Ah fuck, Dana.”

  Dave threw me onto my back and swiftly entered me. It was marvelous to be so full. I locked my legs around his waist, trapping him inside me. This was what I so desperately needed after my sexy night. I’d struggled to hold back with Charles, but now—here with my husband—I didn’t have to.

  “This is what Charles wanted, baby. He wanted me to go back to his room with him.”

  “But you didn’t want to?” Dave stared down at me and I wasn’t sure which answer he wanted to hear.

  “I couldn’t. I told him no. He was frustrated. He wanted to fuck me so bad.”

  “I’m sure he did. I think half the men in that casino wanted to.”

  Dave found a slow, steady rhythm that stoked my passion, but let me keep teasing him.

  “When he realized I wasn’t going to go upstairs with him—Oh Dave!—that’s when he dragged me into the bathroom.”

  “It didn’t look like he had to drag you, Dana.”

  I shook my head, dug my nails into his back. The headboard was bolted to the wall, but it still clicked as the bed hammered into it. Dave quickened as his excitement grew. “He didn’t. I didn’t want to be a tease. I knew I had to take care of him.” After a hearty moan, I added, “I wanted to.”

  “I know you did. You’ve always loved sucking cock.”

  “God, I do!” I was getting close. I felt it throbbing through my body. I couldn’t believe how turned on that night had made me.

  “You couldn’t wait to get my cock in your mouth that day in the library.”

  “Yess…”

  “You love playing the little slut,” he spat through gritted teeth.

  “Yes, baby. I was such a slut tonight. I got down and took him out and sucked him hard. I let him fuck my mouth…”

  “Fucking hell…”

  “And I made him cum in my mouth. I wanted every drop.”

  “Fuck, Dana. Ahhh…”

  I don’t know which of us lost it first. I climaxed so hard I was only vaguely aware of Dave cumming. Reality blurred for a few seconds as I melted away. When I finally came back to that room, I was lying in my husband’s arms and he was kissing my forehead.

  “I love you so much, babe,” Dave said.

  “Love you too, honey,” I replied, squeezing him.

  “Tonight was something, huh?”

  It was good he wanted to talk about it. Like most men, Dave could be taciturn, and given his reluctance to fully discuss it before we did anything I had been curious what he’d have to say afterward. This was not a time for him to retreat into himself. “Yeah, it was different. Was it good for you?” It was a serious question this time, not a tease.

  Dave chuckled. “Do you really have to ask?”

  “I’m concerned with your feelings, hon, not your hard on.”

  “You should always be concerned with my hard on, Dana.” I lightly stroked him and his cock twitched; there was still some life in it even after that incredible sex, but he didn’t spring back to a steel rod the way a twenty-year-old would have. “I feel fine,” he continued. “I’ll admit, when I first saw you by the roulette table and saw that guy’s hands on you I wasn’t sure if I could go through with it. I was suddenly afraid we were making a huge mistake.”

  “But you got over it?”

  “I did. All of the blood rushing down from my brain stopped my thinking. Was that weird for you too?”

  “A little bit, but I think I’d already addressed most of my fears about doing it. I knew just meeting a man wouldn’t put us in any danger. I knew the real danger would come later.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Uh-uh. We’re talking about you right now. So you got over your reservations?”

  “Well, yeah. It was hot and I didn’t see anything so bad happening—not out in the casino.”

  “But then we moved to the bar…”

  “For a second there I was afraid you’d go somewhere I wouldn’t be able to see you. I wasn’t ready for that yet.”

  That gave me pause and I stopped stroking his cock. Did Dave foresee a circumstance where I would just go off on my own with another guy? Dave was my safety blanket. Even going into the men’s room with Charles I was confident my husband would be right there. If I’d been alone with Charles—if I’d gone up to his room—anything really could have happened. I was not there yet, and didn’t know if I ever would be. I didn’t want to get off on that tangent, though. I wanted to know how Dave felt about tonight, so I stayed on topic.

  “Were you ready for what happened in the bar?”

  “Christ, Dana, it was hot. My fantasies didn’t prepare me for how it would really feel. First, any jealousy was gone really quickly. I wasn’t so shocked by that—I wasn’t jealous at all when you were with Shane, but I always thought part of that was that he was my friend and I knew he wasn’t a threat.”

  “No one is a threat to you, honey,” I said. I was back to touching him and his shaft slowly grew stronger.

  “Anyway, we are playing with fire, aren’t we? And I think that’s part of the thrill. Even though we think we’re totally okay with this and ready for it, we can’t really know until it happens.”

  “Right.”

  “But I was okay with it. And no kidding this time, I was a little shocked you just let him do that right there.”

  I smiled. “You know I like the risk of getting caught.”

  “That was when we were a lot younger and people sort of expect kids to behave badly. We’re grown-ups, parents with our own kids. We’re supposed to be responsible. And besides, it wasn’t a risk of getting caught. You were going to be noticed.”

  “That made it hotter,” I admitted.

  “I could see how much you liked it. I was a little torn then. I wanted to keep watching, wanted to see you misbehave, but god I was so hard. All I wanted to do was drag you out of there and fuck you in the first quiet space. I might have even dragged you into that bathroom.”

  “That would have been hot.”

  “But watching you was hotter.”

  “I’m glad you liked it.” His cock was just about at full strength again, and I had plans for it.

  “When you came, I thought that was it. I didn’t think you were going to fuck him, so I didn’t know what else was going to happen.”

  Dave didn’t think I was going to fuck Charles. That meant he thought there was a possibility of it happening. And he didn’t sound upset about it. Dave seemed ready to let these games go all the way, and I wasn’t sure how
I felt about that. Playing with other men was a huge deal, and I liked it a lot. But I didn’t know if I wanted—or needed—to go all the way. I would deal with my questions later.

  “Did I surprise you by going off with him to the men’s room?”

  “Yes and no. I was surprised that you seemed so into it. You weren’t hesitating at all.”

  “Are you calling me a slut?” I mock teased.

  “Only in the best way possible.”

  “Okay then.”

  “It was so hot to see you let go like that. I never got to see you like that—from the outside. It was like watching a movie that was made just for me.”

  “It was for you, honey.” And a little for me.

  “So when I saw how into it you were, it did not surprise me when you went off with him. I watched you two go into the bathroom and then I waited a few minutes. I didn’t want it to be too obvious that I was following you.”

  “And you could tell what was going on by listening?”

  “Pretty much. I closed my eyes and tried to picture it too. I knew what you were doing. I could tell he was in charge.”

  “Did you like that—having another man in control of me?”

  “Christ yeah, Dana. I almost jerked off in there, but for some reason I thought that was weird.”

  “That was weird!” I laughed. “Of all the things we did tonight, that was the bridge too far.”

  “I didn’t claim I make sense!”

  “True.”

  Dave went on. “When I knew you guys were finished I practically ran up here. I couldn’t wait to get you naked and alone. Are you okay with all this? You don’t feel like I don’t love you, or that I pimped you out, do you?”

  “Of course not. I liked it—loved it. A lot more than I thought I would. It was such a rush honey! It was like I was someone else, so there were no rules and I could be that slutty girl we were always don’t we shouldn’t be.”

  “Has there been a secret slut inside you all these years just waiting to get out?” Dave sounded amused.

  “I don’t think it’s so secret, is it? And I’ve let her out to play here and there.”

  “You have. And I love you for it. I’m glad you don’t regret anything from tonight.”

  “I have nothing to regret. I was that slut and I loved every second of it. So now I have one more question for you, my loving husband.”

  “Which is?”

  “Now that you have you slut alone and naked, what do you plan to do with her?”

  Dave rolled over onto me and entered me in one smooth motion. That was the answer I was hoping for!

  A Close Call: Blurred Lines

  Dave and I had crossed a line and there was no turning back. I wouldn’t say we were ready to call ourselves swingers, or that we would be doing it every weekend, but we were hooked after that night at the casino. Our sex life was on fire. Before that night, Dave and I were good for two to three nights a week on average, but we made love every night for weeks after that, and it was fiery and consuming, leaving us sweaty and exhausted. During those nights we would relive our crazy adventure and I was to the point where I could vividly recall every little detail. It also kept that night constantly on my mind—and that kept me constantly horny.

  I tried to ask Dave what it was about me being with another man that turned him on so much. He tried his best, but he could not explain it any further than he already had. Just seeing me as an insatiable sexual creature was his ultimate turn on. I could tell Dave felt like I was grilling him after a while and I backed off with the questions. He started to think he had a screw loose because this was his fantasy and I didn’t want him feeling that way.

  My motivations were perhaps easier to understand. I think inside most women is a naughty girl dying to get out. We want to express ourselves with no judgments and what better way to do that than to break one of society’s ultimate taboo. Knowing that it drove my husband out of his mind with lust just made it all the hotter.

  We knew we wanted to continue, but it wasn’t as easy as just going out every Friday night and letting some stranger pick me up in a bar. The simplest complication was that we do not shuffle our kids off to a babysitter every weekend. We enjoy our family time together and had no intention of shorting that to go play our kinky games. Then there was the problem of where to go. We were not going to trek up to the casino every time we wanted to go out and be naughty, but we still needed to go far enough away from home that we would not run into anyone, and all that driving extended the night. So it was over a month before Dave and I went out again with the intention of my meeting another man.

  Sadly, our second hot date night did not go as well as the first. We were probably naïve to think we would just go out and I’d have some hot encounter every time. For our second hot date we chose a popular bar and night club on the far side of the city—almost an hour away from home. It was a good mixed crowd, though we were on the high end of the crowd’s age. I hung out at the bar in a short skirt and low-cut top—our tradition of Dave choosing my outfits for hot date night really took off then—but I did not like any of the guys who approached me. I feel like I’m cradle-robbing if the guy’s too young, but that wasn’t the only problem. A couple of the guys were just gross. I could not imagine letting them touch me. By midnight I was frustrated and ready to go home. I could tell Dave was disappointed I didn’t hook up, but I blew him on the drive home as a consolation and we had a lot of fun at home imaging what might have been. Our next couple attempts did not go much better. The stories we read on the internet definitely made this look easier than it was in reality. We kept mixing up the places we went. It would not do to become regulars anywhere.

  It occurred to me after that second date that Dave and I should have some kind of signal in case some nasty guy kept hitting on me and wouldn’t take no for an answer. Or what if a guy got too pushy and I needed a rescue. Dave readily agreed—he would have agreed to anything as long as we continued playing—and I decided that if I needed my husband to swoop in and save me from a bad date and couldn’t just text him I would tap my temple, like I was trying to think of something. We both hoped it would not come into play.

  Before we could become too discouraged, our luck changed for the better. I met a businessman in town for a convention at a downtown bar, and after a couple drinks he was all over me. Like Charles, he wanted me to go back to his hotel room, but he was too proper press the issue in the same way Charles had. It could be because he was out of practice—the indent of a pocketed wedding ring was impossible to miss. I had a couple of these encounters and we decided downtown bars near the convention center, especially hotel bars, were good places to find men looking for a quick, casual hook up. I had three such encounters over a couple months, but none of them went past some making out and groping at the bar. There was the promise of more if I went to a hotel with these men, but that was not going to happen. At least, I wasn’t ready for that. I think Dave had begun to grow restless.

  Dave liked seeing me flirt with and kiss other men, but he wanted more, like an addict who needs to increase his fix. When we made love after my hot dates, he would propose fantasies where things had gone further. My husband liked to pretend my dates took me into the men’s room like Charles had, or even that it would be hot if I did go back to their hotel rooms. It was hot in the moment, and I always came hard thinking about it, but when I was thinking rationally later I just thought it was crazy. I should have just asked Dave straight out if he wanted me to fuck someone else, but I think I was afraid to hear the answer.

  My dates took a hotter turn when we decided to try some corner neighborhood bars—the kind where hard working guys went for a beer after work and everyone knew your name. You might think that sounds like Cheers, but these places were a little more blue collar than that. They were the kinds of places Dave and I might go on a Friday night before we moved out to the suburbs and started going to places with craft brews. I asked Dave why the change. These weren’t the kinds
of places you went if you weren’t a regular.

  “I just think those guys might be more fun. They won’t be as uptight,” he answered.

  “Probably not,” I replied. I knew exactly what he meant by more fun. I remembered hanging out in those bars. Those guys were aggressive when they drank and their happy hands roamed everywhere—they didn’t care if a woman was wearing a ring or not. I would be easy bait if they thought I was at the bar alone.

  Although we’d been out on a handful of hot dates over the four months we’d been doing this, I still got nervous every time I walked into a bar by myself, and going to a corner bar was even worse. It was a little after ten on a Saturday night and Kelly’s Pub was pretty crowded, but people still took notice when I came in the door—especially the older regulars who occupied the corner of the bar nearest to the door. I felt their eyes follow me as I crossed the short distance to the far side of the bar, where I squeezed up the narrow aisle between the backs of the bar stools and the wall. Dave had taken great pride in choosing my outfit for that evening and had proactively picked it instead of waiting for me to model several options for him. He paired a tight rust-colored V neck sweater with a short kilt I hadn’t worn in ages. Black tights and knee-high boots completed the outfit. The outfit perfectly showcased my curves and was fun without being too dressy. I could tell by the way the regulars by the door looked at me that Dave had chosen well.

  Kelly’s Pub was long and narrow, with a small open space at the rear that made do as a dance floor for the DJ who was crammed into the corner. A bunch of girls were up and dancing, some holding their glasses over their heads as they moved. A quick glance around left me feeling like I was the only one in the bar by myself. I found a place to squeeze in on the backside of the bar and when the young buck bartender came around I leaned forward and ordered a beer. Kelly’s Pub was not a place to order wine. I had to shout to be heard over the DJ’s oversized speakers and the din of loud conversations being shouted over that. I’d forgotten how loud those little bars could be on a Saturday night. I swear the bartender pretended not to hear the second time so he could keep me leaned forward, which gave him a perfect look down my sweater—though I’m sure he was just admiring the gold locket that hung there.