by Sean Geist
“Kinda.”
“Kinda?”
“Well there were like forty or fifty people in the place.” I failed to tell her about the gorgeous red-headed bartender.
“Very funny, silly,” she said. “You still there, or at home?”
“Sitting in my car, about to head home.”
“Oh. Maybe I should let you go then?” She sounded like she wanted to say something, but wasn't sure about herself. Like she didn't know how important it was.
“No, we can talk while I drive,” I said as I put the keys in the ignition.
I was just about to start the car when Robin said, “What if I wanted to do more than talk?” She giggled after that; sounded like she had a little bit to drink before she called. I pulled the key out of the ignition.
“Go on,” I said.
“You know how I told you I play with myself after we talk?”
“Yes,” I said. This was getting interesting.
“How about if I played with myself while we talk?”
“Like, phone sex?”
“Yes, exactly like phone sex.”
Who is this woman that's taken over my wife's body, I asked myself. I should have expected it. Ever since we got back from Vegas she had been more daring, more sensual. Yes, some of that sexiness had been aimed at Scott, her lover, but I also was the benefactor of her new found interests.
“Kinda kinky. We've never done that before,” I said.
“Peter, we're doing a lot of things we've never done before.”
“Right about that.”
Robin stopped talking and I heard some rustling in the background. I thought I might have heard a man's voice. Was it just my imagination? I wouldn't put it past my wife to call while her lover was there.
“Robin, are you okay?”
“Yeah, sorry. I was just trying to take off my panties and hold the phone at the same time. Very tricky move.”
“You alone?”
Silence filled the line. Then Robin said, “Maybe.”
Now, I was getting aroused.
“Is Scott there?”
The answer came faster this time. “Maybe,” my wife said in a most sensual voice. “Would it get you hard if he was?”
I was getting hard and I had to adjust myself to avoid discomfort. “Yes, actually. Just the thought is getting me hard.”
“What if I told you he was right here, in bed with me, running his fingers up my thighs.?”
“Is he?”
“Maybe.”
I wasn't getting much out of her in the way of answers, but the sexual tension within me was building, and I was really enjoying the tease. I kept fidgeting with my cock. I'd already adjusted myself, now I was just stroking it through my slacks.
“What else is he doing?” I asked.
“Oh.. Oh... He just licked his middle finger and he's rubbing it along the outside of my cunt. Oh... oh, God that feels good.”
Another shocker, I'd never heard my wife use that word – cunt. I kept quiet, listening to Robin get off and pleasuring myself. I felt quite deviant.
“Please, don't stop,” she said. I pictured Scott, his shirt unbuttoned, showing off his chest tattoo, bearing down over my wife, rubbing his finger through her labia. He was probably stroking slowly, getting his digits nice and moist, occasionally sliding one in.
“Oh, Peter, you wouldn't believe how good this feels, how good he's making me feel.”
At this point, if I hadn't been sitting in my parked car, I would have pulled my cock out and been stoking myself to orgasm. I was so turned on and jealous, listening to another man make my wife come. As it was, I was close to making a mess in my pants, and I didn't want to have to drive home with a wet stain on my crotch.
“He's pressing on my clit now,” Robin said. She no longer needed me to prod her for details. “Fuck... now he's penetrating me, I can feel his finger's deep inside me. Oh, Scott, don't stop.”
The oh's and ah's and moans continued for a few more minutes, and I was rock hard the whole time.
“Peter, I'm cumming. Scott's making me cum.” A deep, loud moan followed. I caught myself rubbing my cock and getting too close to cumming myself. It felt so good, yet so wrong. It was dirty, and twisted, and I loved it.
On the other end of the line I heard Robin's moans of ecstasy, and I think she dropped the phone. I heard the sloppy sounds of fingers rubbing my wife's moist mound and in the distance her voice calling her lover's name.
I was jealous and aroused. It was confusing, but I perversely enjoyed it. I caught myself again, rubbing my cock. I felt the tingle in my core, indicating my climax was imminent. I immediately stopped. My groin protested, but I held my resolve and, with sheer force of will, was able to hold off an orgasm.
“You still there, Peter?” Robin said, her voice soft and out of breath.
“Fuck, yes, I'm still here.”
“You enjoy it?”
“Yeah.”
“A lot?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you cum?”
“Almost.”
“Why didn't you?”
“I don't want to drive home with a load of semen in my shorts.”
“Ah, you're a wimp,” Robin said. “Hell, I've driven home with a load of spunk in myself. I was fine.”
I wanted to ask for details about that, but didn't.
“You and I are different that way,” I said. “So, I guess you'll want to hang up to return the favor to Scott.”
“I would if he were here.”
So, she made the whole encounter up. “So, you lied to me then,” I said. It was more of a ribbing, not an accusation.
“Only a little one,” she said. It's funny – she lied to make me think her lover was there, not that she was alone. Most people would do the opposite. “You loved thinking Scott was here, getting your wife off.”
“Yeah. It was hot.”
“So a little white lie is okay?”
“You did admit the truth in the end, so that's not a lie, just a little role-playing.”
“Any plans for tomorrow?” Robin asked.
That would be a tricky question to answer. I could tell her I was going to the ballgame, but then she'd have to ask the natural followup. Our agreement was I could date and sleep with other women, but she didn't really want to know about it. I also couldn't lie.
My only option was to ask, “do you really want to know?”
“Yes,” she said.
I paused to allow her to think about it. I found it funny she didn't even think I might try to find companionship on the weekend that was suppose to be ours, the weekend she cancelled.
“Do you really want to know?” I said, stressing the 'really'. I hoped she got the hint, the silence on the other end told me she probably had.
Eventually, she said, “yes, whatcha got planned.”
“Going to the ballgame.”
“The Diamondbacks?”
“Yeah”
“You going with someone?”
“Yeah.” I wasn't going to give any more details than she wanted. I figured she couldn't get mad at that.
“A guy?”
“Come on, Robin, you're smarter than that. I wouldn't be hedging so much if it was a guy.”
“You're right,” she said.
“So you want to know more?”
Robin hesitated again. She didn't get off on the thought of me fucking other people. I still didn't fully understand my arousal from watching her. But she knew I only accepted her affair with Scott, like I had the option. She finally answered.
“Part of me says, yes, I want to know,” she said. “Another part says, fuck no.”
“Okay, I'll tell you I'm taking a woman to the ballgame. That's the plan.” I didn't add that Angie was bright, and beautiful and sexy. I felt that Robin didn't need or want to know that part.
“Okay,” she said. “Well, have fun. Luv ya. Be good.”
“I love you too,” I said. “And, no promises.” I added ju
st before I hung up.
***
Angie and I met up outside the main gate to Chase Field, home of the Arizona Diamondbacks. She wore a short-sleeve D-back's jersey with black shorts. Her shoulder-length red hair was pulled back in a pony-tail. She looked especially sexy, even with the minimal amount of makeup she wore. I felt so lucky to be able to spend the afternoon with such a lovely woman. If there was a God, she was smiling down on me that afternoon. But then again, I figured she or he owed me for what happened in Vegas.
I bought our tickets, two seats about half-way up from the field on the third base side. They were nice seats with a great view. Since I bought the tickets, Angie sprang for beer and hot dogs.
The game was interesting and kept our attention, but I was more thrilled to be out on a date. For the first few innings we just watched the game and talked about the action on the field. Around the fifth inning the home team was up by six runs, and around that time the conversation turned toward the personal.
“So, are you going to tell you wife about our little date?” Angie asked.
“I already did,” I said.
“Really?” Angie didn't seem to believe me. “And what did she say?”
“Told me to behave myself.”
The red-head seemed to turn her attention from the game, to my marital situation.
“And what did you say to that,” she asked.
“Told her I wouldn't make any promises,” I said and gave her, what I hoped, was a sexy smile.
Angie dropped her serious look and started grinning.
“So, you have an open relationship, huh?”
“You sound surprised.”
“No, not really. I figured as much when you started hitting on me. You didn't seem to me the type of guy to cheat on his wife.”
“Thanks for that, but I wasn't hitting on you. I was flirting.”
Angie laughed out loud and said, “only a guy would think there was a difference.”
“So you don't think married people should flirt?”
“It's safer if they don't”
“Kinda of conservative of you.”
“If I was conservative about relationships, I wouldn't be here with you.”
“That's fair,” I said.
“So, how does you wife feel about this – you taking me to the ballgame?”
“She's not really too happy, but she can't really say much since she started it.”
As briefly and casually as I could, I explained how my wife took a lover in Vegas and decided to go work for him. We didn't want to break up over it, so we agreed I could date on the side, as well.
“You're a very understanding man, Peter,” Angie said after I was finished explaining.
“Thank you.”
“Or a very gullible one.”
“Thanks, for nothing,” I said, and gave her a playful punch on the shoulder. It was just a simple, quick touch, but the contact sparked my desire. All the talk of dating, and lovers – and then the touch - was starting to arouse me.
Lucky for me, not so much for the home team, the Dodger's third baseman took this moment to hit a three-run home-run, cutting our team's lead in half. It looked like L.A. might be staging a rally and our attention switched back to the on-field action.
The Diamondbacks' pitcher settled down and got the next batter to pop-up. He finished the inning with a strike-out. Angie and I cheered, along with most of the rest of the crowd, as the game moved on to the bottom of the sixth inning.
I decided I would take advantage of this break to steer our conversation over to Angie's love life instead of mine.
“So, what does Jason think you're doing this afternoon?” I asked.
“I don't know, and quite honestly, I don't think I care.”
“Why not?”
The red-head paused, the look on her face indicating she was trying to work out how much information she wanted to divulge. I could understand the reluctance. I may not have been a complete stranger, but I was hardly a close friend either. I felt fine telling someone I hardly knew about my open relationship, but not all people liked to be open about things like that.
Angie finally decided I was worth telling. “I think I'm going to break up with him pretty soon,” she said.
“You're not happy?”
“No, not really. Jason's smart and gorgeous and takes me to plenty of fancy places, like the museum and opera. I love that. But he's just too controlling. Like that weekend I saw you at the bar and he was late. If the situation was reversed and I was late, he would have had a fit, called me liar or a cheat.”
“I do remember you grilled him a bit,” I said. “Forced him to explain himself.”
“That was nothing. Plus you may not have noticed, his answers were all pretty lame”
I didn't remember at the time, so I let it drop. I figured he probably was pretty possessive. Lots of men are like that.
Angie continued. “I've been putting up with his crap for six months. I mean, I like the guy and the sex is great, but lately his demands have been rubbing me raw.
Now he even wants to know how I spend my money. That's a bit much don't you think?”
I had been nodding my head, so I just went with it. “Yeah,” I said, “that does sound a little over the top.” And I meant it. Even if I wasn't attracted to Angie, I still would have sided with her. I didn't like control freaks and I never wanted to be one. My current situation was testament to that.
“So what would Jason do,” I asked, “if he knew you were here with me?”
“He'd be jealous as hell and probably punch you.”
“So he's the violent type?”
“Not really, he's just very jealous, that's why I'll never tell him, even after I break up with him.”
“Yeah, I know the type,” I said. “He'd blame me for the break-up. Say I stole you away from him.”
“He'd be wrong.”
“Doesn't matter. That's what he'll think, no matter what you said.”
“What do you think? About your wife. And Scott. Do you think he stole her away from you?”
Good fucking question, I thought, and a hard one to answer. My first reaction was yes, he totally stole her affections from me. He seduced her. But then I realized, no. I was wrong. Robin was her own woman. She never did anything she didn't want to do. She made her own decisions. She liked Scott, found him charming and sexy, and decided to sleep with him.
Plus, it wasn't like she was withholding her affections from me. In fact, she seemed even more interested in sex.
Well, at least when we were together.
I explained all this to Angie.
“Wish I could meet a guy as understanding as you,” she said.
“You have,” I said, pointing my thumbs at myself and smiling. “But we can't all be saints.”
“Please. You're not a saint. Saints are boring. And Peter, you are not boring.”
“Really? I'm not? I took you out to a ballgame. Most women would find that boring.”
“Peter -”
“I know,” I said, interrupting her, “you're not most women.”
Now it was Angie's turn to punch me, and she did.
It was time for the seventh-inning stretch, the baseball tradition where everyone stands and they play 'Take me out to the ballgame'.
After we sat down, Angie caught me by surprise and put her hand on my knee. The simple touch, bare skin on bare skin, set my nerves on fire. She held it there as the game went on. Then she slowly started to caress my thigh. The blood started flowing to my crotch, swelling my cock.
I loved the feeling, but it was going to get rather embarrassing, trying to hide my erection while wearing a pair of shorts. I reluctantly placed my hand on hers and held it tight, stopping the massage.
“That feels really good, Angie,” I said. “But you have to stop.” I looked down at the tent forming in my shorts.
She smiled, leaned in and gave me a quick kiss on the check. “Okay, I'll stop,” she whispered into my
ear, “for now.” That just made my cock grow harder.
We settled for just holding hands and my erection began to recede. But even this simple display of affection felt odd. Even though no one else knew I was married to someone else, or even cared, it felt so, taboo. I know lots of people cheat, and lots of marriages dissolve, and some marriages are unique. I just never thought I would be in one of those categories.
I was always a rule follower, never one to start a trend or veer from the norm, but here I was 'dating' a woman who was in middle school when I was in college. All this, while my wife was working and probably planning her next visit with her lover.
Life has a way of fucking up even the best laid plans.
We sat and watched the rest of the game, sipping our beers and holding hands. I was feeling a wonderful buzz, partially from the booze, but mostly from the beautiful woman sitting next to me.
At one point, between the eighth and ninth inning I think, she put her head on my shoulders and a warm, fuzzy feeling came over me. I wouldn't say I was falling in love with Angie, but I was starting to feel an attraction I hadn't felt since my first date with Robin. It felt warm and wonderful, and best of all, new.
I really wanted the Dodgers to stage a comeback and send the game into extra innings, just so I could keep this feeling going. Sadly, that didn't happen. The D-backs' pitcher came out in the ninth and set the batters down, one, two, three, and the game was over.
Oh, we cheered the outcome, Angie and I, but inside I wept a little. Even if I continued dating Angie, I would never again experience the magic of this first time out.
***
We stood out on the street, outside the stadium gate, where we met before the game. We faced each other hand-in-hand.
“I had a wonderful time, Angie,” I said, staring into the red head's beautiful green eyes.
“So did I,” she answers, “better than I expected.”
“Yeah, the Diamondbacks really showed up those Dodgers.”
“I wasn't talking about the game,” she said. She stared into my eyes with an intensity I almost found frightening. “I'm really glad I was able to spend this time with you, Peter.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really. You shouldn't doubt yourself so much.”
“Was it better than if Jason had taken you?”