Fred Jones
Member
Posts: 202
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Barbara and Tom were younghood sweethearts, got married in grad school 7 years ago,
no kids, two fast track careers, his in technology, hers in academia.
She told this story.
About 2 months ago Tom and I arranged to meet for dinner, starting our night out with
a take at the Four Seamisters. I got there 15 minutes early, and the stress of the day as will
as my ever so middle class white wine released inhibitions enough for me to get
involved in a conversation with a guy sitting nearby.
A half hour later I noticed my husband standing in the doorway.
I waved him over, introduced the guy, and in a couple of minutes the two of us went to
dinner.
"How long were you waiting there by the door?"
"About 20 minutes."
"Well, why didn't you come over, for heaven's sake."
"It looked like you were having a good time, and I liked watching."
"Oh." I realized this went on before with him. We dropped the subject and had a nice
evening.
On the drive home Tom asked "Did that guy - was his name Bill? - try to date you?"
"No, we were just talking."
We talked about other things for the rest of the drive, but I began worrying that he
thought I might be appearing too available to strangers, and that was just not the fact. I
like everything about my husband and being married to him. It's the most important part
of my life.
A couple of weeks later we made another date for a Friday night dinner in town, with
the meeting place set for the Sheraton hotel. I thought Tom was late, until he appeared
from the back of the bar.
"What were you doing, I was waiting for 15 minutes."
"I just like looking at you."
"Were you waiting to see if anyone tried to talk to me, or something?"
"I confess."
"Don't you trust me?"
"Of course I do. But it's kind of exciting watching you talk to guys in places like this, I
guess maybe I'm a bit of a voyeur."
"Well, that's different". I was happy that it wasn't a trust thing after all.
Late at night the next week we were holding each other in bed - that's one of the best
parts of being married, I think - and talking.
I brought up his bothersome behavior. "Tom, how come you try to watch strangers
talking to me?"
I had my arm over his him when I asked that - there was nothing going on, just a
married couple in bed, being comfortable with each other.
But I felt his penis stir. "I guess it's because I think you are beautiful, and I like knowing
other guys think you are, too."
Well, that's kind of an odd compliment. "They may not think that at all, they may be
just trying to make conversation, or maybe make a date, or even pick me up."
His penis stirred more. "Maybe that would be OK, too."
Now I was beginning to understand something new about my husband. I took the hand
he had on my hip, and moved it to my crotch, then grabbed his cock - it was erect, now.
"Barbara, you're getting all warm!"
"Tom, you're getting all stiff."
We put the stiffness and warmness together, and made love. No, that's not quite true. We
fucked.
And we talked, too, during the less active moments..
"Now, let me be sure I understand. You get turned on when you think about guys trying to
pick me up?"
He responded both physically and verbally: "Yeah."
"Well, I've heard of men like you. You're some kind of voyeur."
"Yeah, maybe."
"Tom, I've been married to you all of my life. I don't think guys are interested in
picking up married women. I guess it is kind of nice having someone pay that kind of
attention to me, it's sort of flattering - not that I don't want to be married, or anything."
"Uh, you like that?"
"Maybe. It would be kind of nice if a guy tried to date me, or even try to pick me up when
we're out like that. It sure doesn't happen at Babmister, or when we're out together."
His movements became more urgent.
"Uh, would you like to go out and see if something like that would happen
on purpose, instead of accidentally, like when you're waiting for me, like last time?"
His body was telling me it's something he was interested in, that's for sure. He was
offering me a license to flirt! No, he was encouraging me to. I thought it would be a
different role for me, a change from the professional one at work, or the married one
with Tom. So, why not?
I replied "Sure, so long as we wind up here."
The sex we were having continued with more excitement than usual.
The next day Tom came home from work - it was Friday - and told me he found out the
Marriett in Newton was a place where singles our age went. "Let's go there! You can
pretend to be single, or at least available, for a while."
This was moving from an idea to action faster than I would have imagined. Somehow
we decided to do it. We had a silent drive along Rt. 128: I felt a bit like I was being
driven to my execution. Well, it excited my husband. And me.
The hotel lounge was mobbed. It looked like most everyone stayed at the bar, and guys
approached women, talked to them, danced, and tried to make dates. Or make them, to
be more honest.
We parted at the entrance, and I went to the bar, feeling uncertain, in strange waters, a
bit like a lamb being lead to the slaughter. After all, I had seriously dated only one man
in my life, and married him. This was very new stuff.
In a while a couple of guys talked to me. One danced with me a few times. I saw Tom
watching, and that made me both a little more comfortable, and flirtatious. I once saw
him dancing with a nice looking woman.
A couple of hours went by, then Tom asked me to dance, too. We did, and used that as
an excuse to leave together, not that anyone was keeping score, or watching.
We talked on the way home. "I saw that guy dancing with you. Did he try anything?"
"No, it was just a dance. He was a proper gentleman. You know, up until today everyone
who danced with me knew us as a couple. These guys didn't know that, they thought I
was available. That was an odd feeling. What about that girl you picked up?"
"She came over and asked me to dance."
"Did you enjoy it?"
"Honey, things have changed since we were single. She liked to dance really close, and
when I held her I was sure she wasn't wearing a bra, and I didn't feel any panties seam
either."
"Hey, tell me more, oh husband with the wondering hands."
"Well, I could feel the heat from her groin through my pants, and I got a hard on, and
she knew it. But she didn't back away, either, She liked to grind her pelvis against me."
We got home, and got to bed. I wasn't happy. "Tom, I'm upset. The deal was you were
supposed to be watching me, not flirting or grinding your cock into someone. I feel
insecure, and I don't like this game."
He was apologetic. "Watching you was the deal, and to be honest about it, that was the
best part. The other was a fringe benefit. I'd rather watch, anyhow. If we ever go there
again I promise to just watch, OK?"
"Well, just so long as you kept that thing" - I grabbed at his cock - "in your pants until
you get home."
He then used that thing the way I wanted him to. When I asked him while we made
love, he promised that he wasn't thinking about the woman he danced with, but about
me. Later I learned - you will, too - it wasn't only about me!
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