by Lexi Archer
I almost wanted to laugh again, but I didn't because I knew it would probably set Megan off once more. So I avoided that particular urge. Megan wouldn't understand. How could I explain to her that I'd just had something that was probably the golden opportunity for most guys who were blessed, or cursed depending on how you look at it, with this fantasy dropped right into my lap and I could take it or leave it?
It was a hilarious irony, but I wasn't going to bring up some of the subtleties of this fantasy right now. No, all she knew was that I got off on the idea of her with other men, and Michael was another man. That's all I really cared about, and that's all I wanted to nurture in the moment.
"So you don't think I'm a terrible person?" Megan asked.
I snorted and shook my head. "Of course you're not a horrible person Megan! The fact that you're even having these thoughts in the first place means you're the opposite of a horrible person!"
Yeah, I thought to some of the stuff I saw online. I thought about how some of the stuff really objectified black guys to the point of being borderline racist when it didn't go ahead and cross the border. No, compared to that stuff my wife was a saint. Of course I once again wasn't going to go into some of the crazy intricacies of this fantasy. It would be too much to explain it to her. Especially at a moment when I wanted to focus on her and Michael instead.
"But you haven't heard all of my fantasy," she said.
My cock twitched at that. I couldn't help it. There was just something about the quiet way she said that, something about the reluctance in her voice, that turned me on. Of course at the same time I took it with a grain of salt. The last thing she revealed to me hadn't been that terribly bad at all, so it's not like the next thing was probably going to be some great depraved revelation.
"What is that honey?"
"It's the kind of fantasy that I have…"
I arched an eyebrow and looked at her in the rearview mirror. "And what kind of fantasy do you have?"
Once more she looked down. She looked away, as though she was afraid to meet my gaze. But I was game. I could wait her out. I figured a subtle reminder of everything I'd shared with her probably wouldn't hurt things though.
"Remember I shared my fantasy with you," I said. "I was terrified, but I did it, and look what it did for our sex life! If you do the same with me then you might get a similar surprise!"
She looked up at me and smiled uncertainly. "You really weren't mad about finding me in Michael's office tonight?"
This time I couldn't help but let out a laugh. "Are you kidding? That's the dream! I've wanted to find you in a situation like that forever, but I was always terrified of bringing it up. I always thought you'd leave me if you thought I was into more than just watching you flirt with guys. If you thought I actually wanted you to go through with some of the fantasy stuff we talk about."
"Really? That worried you that much?"
"Hell yeah! And again, you're still here with me. We're still together and I'm not threatening divorce or anything. Go ahead, tell me what your fantasy is babe."
Megan took a deep breath, and then she launched into what really turned her on. And I have to admit that it did cause my eyebrows to shoot straight up. It definitely was a little more depraved than I'd originally thought, but at the same time it made my cock absolutely rock hard. I couldn't believe it, but I was more than happy to try and make it happen.
The only wildcard here was Michael. He seemed like the best candidate, but I realized that despite all that stuff I said about her fantasy being her fantasy, this was something that I was going to be embarrassed as hell bringing up with him. At least at first.
I just hoped and prayed that I was right about his motivations. I hoped and prayed that he would be so excited at the idea of getting it on with my wife that he wouldn't be too upset about some of the more unfortunate implications of the dirty fantasy scenario she was spinning out for me.
More than anything I couldn't wait to get home. I couldn't wait to get my cock out and bend my wife over something in the living room. It was going to have to be the living room, because I was so fucking hard that I wasn't going to be able to wait for us to get into the bedroom.
Damn! All those years of asking Megan what her fantasy scenario was, and it was something that was more risqué, more dirty, than I ever would have imagined. Then again I never would have imagined her going along with my fantasy, so I suppose it was only fair that I do my best to make this work for her.
That I would be helping myself out at the same time as I was helping her entered into it just a little bit, of course. I wasn't being entirely altruistic in my desire to draw this fantasy out of her.
Either way, this was going to be one hell of a week as I tried to figure out how to bring this up with Michael. As I tried to keep Megan from going over the edge because it was still obvious she was a little reluctant about all of this. As I tried to orchestrate actually making this happen while at the same time navigating the minefield that was graduating from just talking about doing this sort of thing to actually doing it.
But for now I just concentrated on driving. Concentrated on the story Megan was spinning out. Concentrated on my cock throbbing in my pants, and prayed that I wouldn't blow anything prematurely as she went on.
6: Shopping Tryst
I woke up the next morning and turned to see Brad looking at me. Smiling at me. His head was up on his elbow, and he was grinning down at me reminding me of the school kid I'd first made love to all those years ago. He reminded me of that boyish charm that he used to have. That he still had, but it had been replaced by the man in front of me.
"Good morning babe," he said.
I moved to get out of bed, but I discovered that some very interesting parts of my body were actually sore. Particularly my legs where I'd had them wrapped around Brad on several occasions last night.
I slammed my head against the bed. God. Last night! I thought about the booze I'd had. I thought about Brad fucking me in the car. Fucking me over the couch in the living room. Moving up to the bedroom where he took me on the bed. Then in the shower when I thought surely we'd be done and I could just clean up and go to sleep.
We hadn't fucked that many times in one night in years. I couldn't believe he had the stamina to pull it off. It had to be the fantasy.
Oh God. Fantasies. I'd revealed everything to him. And when I say everything, I mean everything. I'd actually finally spun out the depraved fantasy scenario that really turned me on, something I'd always held back when we were fucking and I was using dirty talk to get him going.
I couldn't believe I'd actually told him everything. I couldn't believe I'd actually let it all out. More than anything, I couldn't believe the way he'd reacted.
I looked over at him again. Looked at that huge grin. It was a huge grin that was similar to what I'd seen the night before, and I suddenly remembered some of the other things we'd talked about. I remembered him talking about actually making the fantasy happen. I remembered wrapping my legs around him and being hit with one of the most incredible orgasms of my life as he talked about me fucking his work buddy. Talked about seeing if not only could he get him to fuck me, but get him to go along with the whole scenario. The whole depraved fantasy I'd spun out when I was hot and drunk and now I wanted to sink into the sheets and die in the cold light of morning as I thought about it.
Last night I'd been worried about dying from embarrassment or having him take me to the ER after I passed out while he was fucking me. This morning as a blush crept up my face I found myself worrying once again that he would have to call the ambulance. That they'd have to show up and have the first clinical example of a woman dying from embarrassment while being transported to the hospital.
I couldn't believe I'd actually revealed all of that to him. More than that, I couldn't believe that he was actually thinking about talking with his friend Michael. I couldn't believe that in the throes of passion I'd actually agreed to go along with it!
Okay
, so maybe I could believe that in the throes of passion I'd actually agreed to go along with it. With the way I was feeling last night I would've agreed to go along with a hell of a lot of stuff. Only now that I was staring at my husband in the cold light of morning, now that I was seeing that grin on his face, I wasn't so sure. What would his work friend think of me? He'd think I was horrible! I don't know if I'd ever be able to show my face at another one of his work gatherings!
And yet I knew that look on Brad's face. I knew that grin. I knew that he had every intention of going through with it. I opened my mouth to say something, to try and head this off at the pass, as it were, but he spoke and overrode me.
"I was thinking that maybe we could go to the mall today?"
I blinked. "The mall?"
"Yup. I figure if we're going to do this then you'll need a new outfit," Brad said.
"Listen, about last night…"
"I know! Wasn't it incredible? I can't believe we actually went that many times. I can't believe it was so hot!"
I looked at Brad. I look at how eager he was sitting there with his head on his elbow. I thought about the great sex we had the night before. I thought about how hot it was. How hot I still felt thinking about it despite how sore I was feeling.
More than anything I thought about how hot the fantasy had been. How hot I'd gotten sitting with Michael alone in his office. My body felt like it was on fire right now just thinking about what we'd done last night.
Of course that wasn't the only reason my body was heating up. No, I was also blushing as I thought about the fantasy I'd revealed to my husband. It was ridiculous. It was over the top. It was culturally insensitive, at best. And yet it was my fantasy.
I thought to what he'd said. A fantasy was a fantasy, and it's not like I could help it. It's not like it was really that bad if the end result was someone who wanted to fuck me getting to fuck me. Besides, I figured it was just playacting. It wasn't real, which helped me feel a little less guilty. Just a little.
So what if I was maybe rationalizing things away just a little bit? Who cared. Besides, I'm sure Michael wouldn't mind having a little bit of fun with that fantasy if it meant getting in my pants. At least I hoped not. So I decided to just go with it. I stomped down on the panic that was threatening to rise inside me. That was threatening to overwhelm me.
We'd already gone this far, and so what was the harm in going just a little farther? None at all, as far as I was concerned.
I leaned forward and gave Brad a kiss. It was supposed to be a quick kiss, it was first thing in the morning after all, but he pulled me into him and that kiss turned into something more. Usually I wasn't in the mood to get frisky like this before I'd even had a chance to brush my teeth, yuck, but there must've still been some residual arousal from the night before, because I felt myself starting to get turned on. Starting to get ready for round five, or I guess it would be round one since we were on day two. But round five or round one, whichever the hell it was, never came. No, Brad pulled away and grinned.
"So how about the mall?"
I smiled. "The mall sounds fine babe."
Though it turns out that when Brad said "the mall," he was actually referring to a notorious shop across the way from the mall. A place where they sold lingerie that was perhaps a little more scandalous than the stuff you could get at the store that everybody knows about in every major mall chain in America.
Surprisingly the changing area was pretty well maintained though. It actually looked downright professional, though I suppose that was to be expected at a place that was right across the street from a more or less respectable mall in a good part of town. It was close enough that it wasn't quite as seedy as you might imagine these places, despite the fact that they sold overpriced and cheaply made lingerie, adult videos for people who were too old to realize the Internet had been invented and free porn was a thing, and adult toys in equal measure. No, the place was downright nice and well-maintained compared to what you'd imagine a place like that would look like.
"So what do you think of this one?" Brad asked.
I glanced at the bit of lingerie he was offering and raised an eyebrow. "That's not underwear. That's a piece of floss!"
Brad grinned as he held the outfit dangling from his fingers. The hanger swayed this way and that with a couple of strips of red material, transparent of course, dangling from the thin strings that I imagined were supposed to hold that thing in place on my body.
"Isn't that sort of the point?"
I rolled my eyes and reached out to grab at the price tag. My eyes bugged out when I saw how damn expensive it was.
"No way are we paying that much money for a couple of thin strips of cloth held together by some string!"
"Isn't the point that you're paying all the money to have thin strips of cloth that strategically cover everything?"
I shook my head. "I'm all about strategically covering myself, but if I'm wearing something like that I might as well be naked!"
Brad grinned again. "I suppose we could do that instead," he said. "Get right to the point and all that?"
I shook my head again. "You're terrible. The whole point of getting a piece of lingerie like that is to entice. To suggest. To arouse without giving it all away."
Brad moved forward and wrapped his arms around me as I looked through the rows of lingerie. I felt his cock nestling against my ass, and it did feel pretty nice. Nice enough that it was causing one hell of a distraction!
"Isn't giving it all away the whole point?" he asked.
I grinned and leaned over my shoulder to give Brad a quick peck on the lips. A quick peck on the lips that didn't, for a miracle, turn into a makeout session the way those quick pecks on the lips had been recently. Which was probably a good thing. I was turned on, but this definitely didn't seem like the kind of place where you could go and find a booth and have a little bit of fun for an hourly rate. Not that I would want to do it with my husband in a place that did that sort of thing anyways. You know what I mean.
"If we're seriously going to do this then we're going to do it my way," I said. "I want to be comfortable. I want to make everything perfect."
"And you can take your time. Do whatever you need to be comfortable with it baby," he said.
His eyes caught something else and he reached out to grab it. Held it in front of me. I looked at it with a critical eye. I really was a firm believer that if you were going to pick lingerie then you needed to go about doing it in the right way. I wasn't bullshitting him when I said lingerie was something that was meant to titillate without giving away the entire show. Wearing a good piece of lingerie, wearing it properly, was an art form.
And the piece he'd just pulled out did look like one hell of a piece of art. It was a black number, and of course it was transparent just like everything else in this store. I'd long ago resigned myself to the cold hard truth that if I was going to wear something we bought here it was going to be something that showed off my nipples and my pussy in equal measure. There was just no getting around that design limitation with what was on offer here.
This particular piece of lingerie had two strips that went up and tied behind the neck, running down over my tits and then between my legs. Think about one of those skimpy bikinis from old '80s movies. The thing was held together with a thong in the back and a little strip of cloth that went around the waist.
"Okay, you have my interest," I said.
"I don't know," Brad said.
"What do you mean you don't know? It looks so sexy!"
He held it up again. He looked at it with a critical eye, and then he turned to me and looked me up and down and I felt a shiver run through me as I imagined him imagining me in that outfit. As I imagined Michael looking me up and down with a similar look in that outfit. As I imagined my husband imagining Michael looking at me in much the same way and getting turned on in turn.
Damn this was a convoluted fucking fantasy!
"You don't think it's too conserv
ative, do you?" he asked. "You don't think it doesn't show off enough?"
I rolled my eyes and snatched it out of his hand. "You really are terrible, you know that right?"
Brad shrugged and grinned. "What can I say? I want to make sure everything is perfect!"
"You mean you want to make sure I'm wearing a couple of bits of floss that leave absolutely nothing to the imagination. I'll try this one on as well."
We had a couple of outfits we'd picked out for the occasion, but I had a feeling about that black number. So I grabbed everything and moved back to the changing area which, once again, bore absolutely no resemblance to the sort of seedy changing booths I would've expected in an establishment like this. They really classed the joint up since it was this close to the mall. It was the kind of place where suburban housewives could come and get something sexy to wear for hubby when he got home from work, and not the kind of place where people went to go into a back booth and jerk off as though the Internet wasn't a thing.
Hell, maybe it was because of Internet porn and the fact that they had to diversify to stay alive that I was getting this boutique shopping experience. Whatever the reason, I was thankful for it.
The first few outfits were duds. I'd grabbed them when Brad was doing most of the suggesting. Before I realized that he was essentially wanting me to wear an outfit that could be approximated by getting some dental floss and wrapping it around my tits a couple of times. No, I wasn't going to wear anything like that. A couple of other numbers I'd picked out went too far in the other direction. One looked like a bathing suit you might see somebody wearing in an old picture from the beach back in the 1920s or something. Way too conservative, and I was surprised they even had it in this store.