by Blaise Quin
Or worse, that she’d need more than the fantasy, that she’d need another man for real. She’d cheat, or leave me.
Yet Andie had said she loved me. Would that keep her from cheating? From leaving me?
What if she wanted both? To keep me, and still be with another man. At the restaurant she had said, “I couldn’t just go around fooling around with other men, could I?”
Would she someday ask that of me? Would that be the price I’d have to pay to keep Andie, letting her have sex with other men?
My stomach heaved. Just the thought of it made me sick. Andie, telling me she couldn’t help it, it was my fault, she had controlled these needs, but now I had awakened them, and she couldn’t resist. If I wanted to keep her I’d have to let her stray.
I tried to calm down. I was getting too far ahead of myself. Nothing yet bad had happened. Sure, I’d seen her flirting a few times, but maybe that was all innocent. Or maybe she had been just trying it out, seeing if it got her in the mood, and she was too embarrassed to share the details with me.
I could live with that. No need to even bring it up. What I didn’t know about, wouldn’t hurt me, as long as she drew the line somewhere appropriate. It really was no different from me looking at some good looking woman. I had never fantasized about anyone else when with Andie, but I had to admit in the far past I had done that with other women, briefly picturing someone else, a past girlfriend, when having sex.
I’d never done that with Andie because I had never needed to. Just because she did didn’t make her a bad person. It didn’t mean she didn’t love me. I was getting worked up for nothing.
Feeling slightly better, I rolled over and got up. Time to get a move on. I rushed through a shower, already thinking about work.
Downstairs the coffee was already on, although there was no sign of Andie. A note was next to the coffeemaker.
Gone to the gym. Need to get in shape.
The gym. Andie hadn’t been to the gym in years. She was in pretty good shape, most of it genetics. Why on earth would she suddenly feel she needed to tone up?
No. That couldn’t be it.
But there was no other answer. She wanted to look her best, and feel her best, so she could be attractive to other men. To draw their interest. To flirt with.
To fantasize about.
I had a hard time concentrating at work. My head threatened to explode from all that had happened in the last day. Andie flirting. My arousal at seeing it. Andie agreeing to do more to improve our sex. Andie’s obvious fantasy, and my mixed feelings. My worries about losing Andie, or her cheating. Finally talking myself down from my panic. Then the note about the gym, making me think she’d started down a dangerous path, a path I had set her on.
Though I had showed up for work late, I left the office early; I just couldn’t focus. I needed to talk to Andie again. Maybe we could rethink this. Try something else. I’d tell her I’d changed my mind, I didn’t need sex this badly, what we had before would be fine.
I had worked it all out in my head, a whole speech that would clear the air and let us start over. Before it got out of hand.
I didn’t even take the time to park in the garage. I just left the car in the drive and burst into the house. “Andie!”
No answer. I went from room to room, but she wasn’t there.
She was usually home when I got back, we almost always ate together. I was early though. She must be on her way home.
I grabbed a beer and sat on the sofa, rehearsing my speech. After a few minutes I had calmed down, and decided maybe not to spring it on her right away, maybe over dinner. Andie, I’ve been thinking, I love you just the way you are, there’s no need to change anything. . .the rest of the marriage seemed to be working for you the way things were. I won’t be nagging you for sex, whenever you feel up for it will be fine with me. . .
By the time I heard Andie’s car in the driveway, I had it down pat. Maybe I wouldn’t even need to say it all, partway through she’d see where I was going and nod, then tell me she’d been thinking the same thing, or even better, she’d be more attentive to my needs, and wouldn’t need any fantasy, we could explore new experiences on our own. . .
The door opened. “Peter? Are you home already?”
“I’m right here—.” That was all I could muster. All my well laid plans were dashed when I saw Andie.
She was dressed in the outfit she had picked out at the mall, the one she had modeled for the big black man, the outfit he had pulled tight around her, his hands on her body.
Only now the skirt was shorter, the blouse tighter, the heels spiked. Exactly the way the black man she had been mooning over had wanted her to look.
Telling me exactly where she had just been.
Chapter 8
We stood there staring at one another. Andie’s eyes were wide. Was she just surprised I was home early? Or did she feel she had been caught at something?
Had she been so excited to start flirting that she had run off to see the black man at the very first opportunity?
I finally got my wits about me. “I see you are wearing your new outfit.”
Andie looked down self consciously at her tight, almost slutty clothing. Not exactly something you’d see someone wearing in the late afternoon.
“I wanted to surprise you,” she stammered.
“I’m surprised,” I admitted.
She still hadn’t closed the door, and for a minute I thought she would run out. Then her eyes flared, and she shut the door hard.
“What? You don’t like it?” She stood defiant, her hand on her hip.
“I like it a lot. I’m just not used to seeing you so—dressed up, especially in the middle of the day.”
Andie shrugged. “I just had some alterations done, and I wanted to see how everything wore, just to make sure it got done right.”
“Did you get what you wanted?”
“What do you think?”
Andie walked into the room, turned, and walked back the other way, like a model on a runway. The skirt rode up her legs, her thighs pushing against the fabric, her smooth round ass clearly outlined. When she came to stand before me, I noticed that she had left two of the buttons undone on her blouse, creating a view of her cleavage. She didn’t have huge breasts, but they were large enough so I could see the tops of them, pushing against her top.
If I hadn’t know this was my wife, if I had seen her on the street, I would certainly have looked at her, ogled, stared. She was so. . .hot. Not quite a hussy, just hot, dressed to make men look. At everything. Her legs. Her ass. Her breasts.
“Is that the look you wanted? Or what you think someone else would want?”
Andie looked me right in the eyes. “Both.”
I started to breathe heavily, not only because of how she was dressed, but because of what she was implying.
“Does it turn you on dressing like that?” I asked, not sure I wanted to hear the answer.
“It’s not the outfit,” she said. “It’s what I imagine the outfit doing for someone else.” She leaned close, her breasts pushing against me, her hand sliding to my crotch. “Is it doing anything for you?”
“You know the answer to that.”
“So I guess it was money well spent,” she said, rubbing me through my suit pants.
“I’ve never seen you like this.”
“Dressed like this?”
“Everything. The way you are dressed. The way you are talking.”
“Maybe you’ve unlocked the real me. Isn’t this what you wanted?”
“I just didn’t think it would happen so fast. It was only last night. . .”
Andie frowned. “Are you changing your mind?”
It was hard to concentrate with my hot wife rubbing my cock. She looked so alluring, her four inch heels making her taller than me, forcing me to look right down her blouse. I could feel her excitement through her hand, running directly to my cock.
Did I really want to stop this? Not just what she
was doing to me, but her arousal, the kind of arousal I had been dreaming about?
“No, I don’t think so.”
“That’s good,” said Andie. “Because last night you didn’t say anything about needing time to think about it, wanting to talk it over. I said I was going to start right away, and you didn’t seem to mind at all then.”
“I didn’t.”
“And you know me, once I get started on something, once I get something in my head, I turn all my attention to it, right away.” Andie unzipped my fly and eased my erection out. “I was thinking about it all night. Did you hear me masturbate after you went to sleep?”
“No, I—”
“I’m surprised,” said Andie, as she continued to stroke my cock, rubbing it against her tight skirt. “I made a lot of noise. I was thinking about how I might do the flirting you wanted me to do. Just thinking about it turned me on.”
“What did you think about?” I whispered, again not certain I wanted to hear the answer.
“Who I could flirt with. So I’d have someone to fantasize about.” She stopped jerking me off, and I almost fell forward, craving her attention. “Isn’t that what you wanted me to do?” Andie stared into my eyes, as if my answer was so important to her.
“Whatever it takes to get you excited,” I said.
Andie squeezed my cock, but did not resume her ministrations. “That’s kind of vague. Exactly what do you want me to do?”
Her eyes were bright, alive, I’d never seen her like this, it was like I was dangling some jewel in front of her, a jewel she wanted so bad. “I want you to fantasize about someone else,” I said, almost hating myself for saying it, but not able to deny what she so clearly wanted, and deep down, what I’d come to realize I wanted.
Because I knew that this, crazy and dangerous and kinky as it was, was better than what we had before, the mechanical, infrequent sex.
“Be more specific,” ordered Andie, giving my cock one small stroke, a promise.
“I want you to fantasize about being with another man. About having sex with another man. A man who’ll do things to you.”
She gave me another small stroke, a reward for the right answer. “What kinds of things?”
My mind flooded with different possibilities. Andie being forced against a wall, her skirt lifted up, her legs forced apart. Maybe even the same skirt she was now wearing. Andie on her knees, being face fucked. And the ultimate taboo, Andie being fucked in the ass, something we had never done, something I’d never done with a woman, not even imagining it was something I could do with Andie.
“Whatever he wants.” The words almost forced out of my mouth.
Andie smiled, her eyes dancing, and she started to stroke me again. “Good answer.” She used her other hand to pull my head forward, down into her cleavage, mashing my mouth against her skin, all the while stroking me.
“Andie, if you don’t stop I’m going to—”
She pulled away, laughing, letting me go. “We can’t have that, can we? You cumming on my nice new outfit. Which reminds me. . .” She stepped back, modeling the outfit for me, leaving me looking like an idiot, fully dressed, but with my erection poking out of my fly.
“You do recognize this outfit, don’t you?” She twirled around to give me a good look.
“Yes, you bought it at the mall.”
“Actually, you bought it at the mall. Paid for it, anyway. And I appreciate it. I really do. Do you remember exactly where I bought it?”
I nodded. “The boutique, the one with the—”
“The handsome black man, the very big black man. Isn’t that what you mean to say?”
“I did notice him,” I murmured.
“You seemed to do more than that. I think you were staring at him. Or at me and him. He liked me in this outfit. How do you feel knowing you bought me an outfit that another man wanted to see me in?” Andie came back to me and grabbed my cock, pulling it down.
“Hey!” I involuntarily sank down, because she didn’t let up. It was the only way to keep it from hurting.
“I don’t think you got a good look at this outfit from every angle,” Andie said, and now her voice took on a little edge, something more than playful. “I think you should see it from below.”
“From below?”
Andie continued to pull my cock until I was on my knees. She bent at the waist, pulling me toward the floor, until I almost fell on my ass.
“Andie! What are you doing?”
“I just want you to see what a nice outfit you bought for me,” she said. “Why don’t you just kneel there and appreciate it.” Andie had let go my cock and now cradled my head in her hands, pulling me toward her crotch as she spread her legs. Her heels clicked on the hardwood floor on either side of my knees, and my eyes were inches from her tight thighs. The dress was so short that the hem was inches above my head.
“What do you think?” asked Andie, looking down at me.
“It’s, uh, nice.” I said, confused, what did she want me to say?
“Nice? Is that all you have to say?”
“It’s hot. You are hot, in it.”
“That’s better.” Andie bent her knees a little, and swept the fabric of the skirt across my face. “Do you think other men would find me hot in this?”
“Yes!”
“Is that what you were thinking when you were spying on me as the black man told me to try it on?”
I looked up at her, but the dress was in my eyes. “I wasn’t spying on you!”
“Well, looking. Do you think I really didn’t see you?”
“I was just waiting for you!” I protested. “The window was right there, I couldn’t help but see. . .”
“And what did you see?”
“I watched you trying on the outfits.”
Andie lifted the dress so that I could see her face again. But she kept raising it, up past her waist, and I was stunned to find out she wasn’t wearing underwear. Her musk flowed into my nostrils, her naked pussy just inches from my face.
“Are you telling me you didn’t see the black man put his hands on me?”
“I thought he was just helping you try on the outfits, I thought he might be gay. . .”
Andie laughed. “Gay? He was so not gay that I was getting wet right there in the store just looking at him. And when he touched me. . .”
“You let him do that? Touch you?”
“What was I going to do? He was very big and strong. I’m just a little woman. Besides—.”
“What?”
“I wanted to see what you would do.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“Exactly. See how hard it is? What would you expect me to do if you couldn’t do anything? Still, because I am married, I resisted him. . .then. For you.”
“Then?” I croaked.
“Where do you think I was today? I went back there, so I could get the alterations done. His name is Malcolm. He was very attentive.”
I swayed on my knees. She had gone back to him. To Malcolm. What had he done? What had she done?
As I breathed in, the smell of Andie’s sex overpowered me, and I almost feinted. Had she had sex with him? Had his cock been in her pussy, the pussy just inches from my face?
I wanted to close my eyes, but instead I focused on her clit, on her labia. Was it red?
Andie pulled my head into her crotch. “Kiss it,” she said.
I did as she told me, almost helpless, yet wanting her, wanting her pussy.
“Tell me the truth,” she said. “When you were watching me with him, did you think he was coming on to me? Did you think of him having sex with me?”
I nodded, still kissing Andie’s pussy, her pubic hair brushing against my face.
“I did too,” said Andie, and now she mashed my head against her, pushing her legs open and thrusting at my face. “Lick me!”
And I did, my tongue slipping into her already wet pussy, tasting her, and I could feel her moan right through her body. But sud
denly the reality of it hit me, and I pulled my face away, even though she continued to force my head on her. “Did you do it? Today, when you went back?”
Andie thrust her hips forward. “Keep licking me and I’ll tell you.”
I tasted the wetness, now wondering why she wasn’t wearing underwear, why she was so wet. . .
“I wore the outfit into the store, and he came right over to me and took me back to the dressing room . . .”
As I licked her I pictured it, the black clerk leaving some other customer to lead Andie to the back.
“He stood behind me, and he pulled at the blouse to show how it would look if it were tighter, his hands were so close to my breasts, I could see my nipples get hard in the mirror. . .”
I groaned, thinking of it, his big hands on her slim waist, running up her sides. I started to lick Andie with abandon, and with my other hand began stroking my cock.
“With one hand he held my blouse tight, and with the other he lifted up the skirt, way past the knee, up my thigh, so far that I could see my panties. . .”
My tongue reached for Andie’s clit, it was so swollen, and I couldn’t help but wonder if this wasn’t the first time today it had been so engorged.
“He said, ‘You can’t wear panties like those once we do the alternations, they’ll show if you bend over or cross your legs, better to just go without’. . .”
Andie’s voice came in a rush now, her hips moving against my face, she was using my mouth and my tongue to get herself off. “Do you know what I did?” She sounded amazed at herself. “I just slid them off, right there. Right in front of him. Can you believe that?”
A month ago I would not, but after seeing the black man and her reaction to him, now I wasn’t really surprised, yet the image was still shocking. My wife, another man’s hands on her, in a private place, and just like that she was dropping her underwear.
“As I took them off I realized another benefit of being naked underneath such a small skirt. I thought that if he wanted to fuck me, right there, all he had to do was lift it up a little higher, push me against the wall. . .”