by Blaise Quin
Not a man Emily would ever marry. But so help her, such men aroused her.
Her ring meant nothing to them. She was alone, in a bar, in a hotel. All those beds just a short elevator ride away.
All the other sounds in the bar faded away, the background music, the hum of conversation. Emily’s heart beat hard in her chest. Two stallions squaring off, their nostrils flaring.
Until a new voice, a strong voice, broke in, overriding the tension. “The lady already said she wanted a climax. Why the hell is everyone just standing around?”
And this time, though the voice was familiar, it excited her more than any newness could have.
A hand reached past the other men, who hadn’t yet realized what was happening. Emily slipped her fingers around his, her diamond flashing in the light, a beacon of reminder.
She stood up, letting herself be led through what she thought of as a crowd. “Sorry, boys,” she said. “Maybe next time.”
Her knees shaking with adrenaline and anticipation, she followed Justin through the bar and out the door.
Tonight she’d be thinking about only one man. Her husband.
A week later, lying in bed after wonderfully satisfying sex, Emily said, “I think about it all the time.”
“What?” asked Justin.
“That night at the bar. The way you—took control.”
Justin chuckled. “Well, it was more you being in control. The whole thing was your plan, after all.”
“I know. I still loved it.” And she had. Since then, Justin was the primary man back in her thoughts. And, ever so subtly, his lovemaking had changed. Slightly more—assured. Not rough, not demanding. Their balance had shifted. A year ago, it couldn’t quite be described as fifty-fifty, it was more Justin going up to a line and not crossing it. He was taking the lead, but she had set the limits. Who really could say who had the upper hand?
Then everything had changed, and oddly, became more even in their mutual experimentation. Over the last week, Justin had edged to the top.
It was exactly what Emily needed.
She tentatively concluded she could fight off her new addiction to newness, that she could return back to her old self, or at least her old relationship with Justin, at any time. For a whole week she hadn’t thought of another man, either when she was alone or with Justin.
She’d masturbated three times, partially to prove it to herself, partially because she was so aroused. Thinking of no one but Justin.
“I like hearing you talk about it,” said Justin.
“Which part?”
“All of it. Just you talking. About sex. You know.”
She did. She’d come to accept this. It was Justin’s version of her arousal over newness, the fact that a woman like her, with her upbringing, her persona, would talk dirty. She’d learned that she could excite Justin just with her words.
This was a powerful realization, to be able to arouse a man without touching him. She was sure the men at the bar had been aroused when she’d ordered the Climax, when she’d flirted.
“So you liked me taking you away from them, didn’t you?” asked Justin.
They’d already talked about this, but she liked hearing it, and had already told him so. “Yes,” she whispered.
“We can do it again, if you want. There are plenty of bars.”
Emily smiled in the dark. “That would be fun.”
There was a little hesitation, then Justin said, “I won’t mind if I’m not always the winner.”
She tensed, wondering where he was going. Wondering whether she’d lose control.
“You mean. . .”
Her voice must have given her away, because Justin quickly added. “Just pretend. You know, that one of them took you away instead of me.”
Emily let the thought wash over her. It wasn’t hard, she’d had that particular fantasy before, more than once. Which man from the bar would she pretend would win? The tall man? Or the soldier?
She shuddered. Maybe both?
No, those weren’t men who would share.
And now that she believed she could always return to Justin, both with her body and her mind, she let herself go.
“Which one did you think would win?” she asked.
Justin stirred on the bed. “Which one did you want?”
Surprisingly, a winner came immediately to her mind, but Emily realized part of the excitement now was not the answer, but the exploration, the discussion. “It’s hard to decide.”
“Between the tall man and the muscular guy, of course.”
“Yes.”
“How about the two guys at the table?”
“What two guys?”
Justin gave a short laugh. “You were so focused on your players you missed the men in the audience.”
Emily moved her hand over Justin’s leg. “I didn’t miss you.”
“There were others.”
“Really?” Her breathing quickened.
“I wasn’t the only one watching.”
She closed her eyes, imagining it, reveling in it. Being watched. The same excitement she’d had when she’d seen how many voyeurs had watched her internet video. Men all over the world, touching themselves, thinking about her.
A different kind of power.
A new thought. “Justin, they didn’t think I was a—prostitute, did they?”
“What makes you say that?”
“Just—.” She wasn’t sure how she felt about that.
“I don’t think so. As a matter of fact, I heard one of the guys whispering to his friend about you.”
Emily’s fingers dug into his thigh. “What did he say?”
“He said,” Justin paused, dragging it out, “that confident women turned him on, and you must be one confident woman to come into a bar full of men and take over like that.”
Which isn’t exactly how it had gone down, but it made her feel good. “What else did he say?”
Justin turned to her in the bed, his hand pulling at her hip, moving his lips to her ear. “It was the other man. He said, “I do too. She can sit on my face anytime.”
Emily gasped. That wasn’t at all the image she conjured up, not with the self assured men, but it went with her newfound sense of power. Before she had a chance to reply, Justin continued, “Then the other guy said, “Only after I fucked her into that climax she wanted.”
Now Emily was delirious, her old fantasies mixing with her new, being taken, being in control. Being fucked, then sitting on a man’s face, filled with. . .
No, she couldn’t do that.
Could she?
The very idea sickened her and excited her at the same time. Both parts of it. Having a stranger come inside her. Sitting on the face of a man, maybe even a powerful man, after she’d been taken, after she’d been filled.
From experience she knew she’d never get it out of her head now. Like a scab, she had to pick at it. But instead of words, she pressed her lips against Justin’s, moaning into his mouth. Telling him she wanted to hear more.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he murmured. “Being fucked into a climax?”
Emily’s answer was to slip her tongue into his mouth.
“Maybe next time,” said Justin. “Next time I won’t come over. One of them will take you. The one you want, you get to pick. You’d walk out with him, not me.”
Emily grabbed his hand and forced it between her legs, her choice for this minute. “You’d follow us?” she whispered.
Justin hesitated, perhaps because she’d made it a question. Had she meant to do that?
“Maybe I’d just wait in the bar. You could go to a room. Just the two of you.”
She moaned again, pressing his hand against her pussy, using it to rub herself. “You’d like that?”
Again the hesitation, then his voice in the dark, sounding truthful. “I didn’t think I would until just this second.” He pulled her close and Emily could feel his erection pressing against her belly. “It would be hard,
just waiting there in the bar.”
Emily wrapped her other hand around his shaft. “Hard like this?”
“That too.”
For a moment they were lost in their own thoughts. Emily continued to use his hand to press against her pussy, still tender from earlier. It fit with her fantasy, because if she was going to be fucked hard by a stranger, she’d feel it.
“Touch yourself for me,” she whispered. When Justin had grasped himself she kept her fingers lightly on the back of his wrist, like she was watching him through her hands. Still driven by her conflicting emotions, she probed, “I wasn’t prepared—to leave with another man.”
“Do you mean you might have? Or just that you didn’t pack any condoms?”
Even though she was lying down, Emily’s legs grew so weak she knew she wouldn’t have been able to stand. Both questions were so sinfully arousing. “Both,” she whispered, wondering if she was just teasing now, or whether she meant it.
And wondering how Justin would react.
He groaned, and she had half her answer.
“Which one?” she asked.
His hand moved faster, her fingers fighting to stay on his wrist. “Both,” he breathed.
She pushed his hand away from between her legs, it wasn’t enough. So help her, Justin wasn’t enough, not just this minute, not with this fantasy. “But if I didn’t have condoms, then he couldn’t be inside me,” she said.
“He’d have to be, to fuck you into a climax.”
And just like that it was out in the open, both of them masturbating furiously, their bodies screaming out the truth, no secrets possible. “I couldn’t,” protested Emily, even as she smashed her fingers against her swollen clit.
“But you’d want to, wouldn’t you?”
Emily shook her head even as her fingers danced.
“Say it,” prodded Justin. “I want to hear you say it.”
Again she shook her head, a useless denial.
“I’ll help you,” said Justin. But he didn’t reach for her, and Emily somehow understood he wasn’t going to help her reach her climax with his hands. He too knew the power of words, words to feed her fantasy. Their mutual fantasy. “You’d want him to come in you. I bet you can feel it, he’s fucking you, he’s fucking you so good you’re going to come just from being fucked, just from feeling him shoot his cum in you!”
Emily dragged the heel of her hand on her clit as she drove all four of her fingers inside herself. She was being fucked, it was the soldier, ramming into her. He’d been aroused by the two women at the bar, primed, his balls full of seed, virile seed, and he unleashed it in her, all of it, powerful jets shooting deep. She came with him, the utter depravity, yet incredible joy, of being filled, the risk, the thrill. She felt Justin spasm next to her, his cum hitting her thighs, no, it wasn’t his, it was the soldier’s, he had so much it dripped out of her.
She groped for it with her fingers, sopping it up, and pushed her fingers, pregnant with thick seed, into her opening, clamping her other hand over her pussy, not wanting to spill a drop.
I was packing my bag in the bedroom, Emily pacing the room, uncharacteristically not able to sit still. It had been a few days since our hotel pickup experiment, yet we hadn’t talked about it since that evening. I sensed this was why she couldn’t calm down.
I was a little nervous too. Wanting to talk, not wanting to talk. I guessed it was the same for her.
“I’ll only be gone for a few days,” I said, not sure if I was easing into the topic or avoiding it.
Emily sat on the bed, got up, sat back down. “I’ll be happy when all your travel ends.”
“The shorter trips are almost over. Just the one long time away for the startup. Then things will be back to normal.” Although I wasn’t sure what normal was anymore. Emily was toying with her watch, a sure sign of something on her mind. “Anything you want to talk about?”
She didn’t look up right away. When she did she gave me a small smile. “You know me so well.”
I smiled too, but I wasn’t so sure these days. The Emily I had known was melding into someone else. I loved this new Emily too, and certainly the side benefits, but to tell the truth I was having a much harder time knowing what she wanted.
Although I’d made a pretty good guess the night we were in bed after the hotel bar. A year ago, the idea of lying in bed watching my wife masturbate while I suggested she wanted another man to come in her would have been ridiculous. Now I’d not only guessed it was what she wanted, but guessed correctly.
The fact that Emily wasn’t upset about my obvious arousal over the same thought was another indication of how much she’d changed.
Or maybe that’s what she was worried about now. “Emily, about the other night. . .”
The words hung there, an opening. I think she must have read my mind because she said, “It’s alright. From my end, I mean.”
I blew out a breath. “I feel the same way.” And I did, mostly.
She pulled her watch off, put it back on. When she didn’t continue I went back to my packing to take the pressure off her.
Finally she said, “I’m going to miss you.”
“Just a few days,” I repeated. “We’ll talk every night.”
“It’s not the same without you here.”
I was wondering what she meant by that. Emily wasn’t the type to be lonely, she had a very active life in and out of work, plus her friends. Could she mean the sex? She’d admitted she’d been masturbating more often. “You could always, you know. . .”
Her head snapped up. “What?”
I was going to say, Think of something fun to keep you amused, but her reaction gave me pause. It was as if she had a particular idea in mind. I pivoted. “You could always call me up, while lying right there,” I pointed to the bed, “and we could, you know, talk.”
“Oh.” She gave me a little smile, dropping her eyes, that hint of embarrassment I knew so well. “It’s not the same,” she repeated.
“Because you can’t see me?”
Her lip quivered, and it made me wonder if it was something else. But she said, “I like watching you.”
You like watching me while I’m jacking off while we are both pretending you are getting fucked by another man, was what it sounded like. Or thinking about you actually being with another man.
Now it was my turn to look away. I pushed down the clothes in my bag, trying to remember if I’d forgot anything. My heart was pounding in my chest, but I fought to keep my voice matter of fact as I said, “You could go out when I’m away.”
Her eyes widened. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”
Just the fact that she didn’t ask me what I was talking about told me volumes about what was in her head. “Because I wouldn’t be there?”
“Yes. It was fun, that night, and the other time, but it was fun and exciting because you were there, it was for both of us. I wanted you to see, to be part of it.” Emily was suddenly animated.
And giving me way too much information. Was she trying to convince me, or herself?
“You could send me pictures or texts,” I joked.
Emily frowned, perhaps not sure if I was joking. I wasn’t sure myself.
She looked like she was going to say something, fiddling with her watch again. “Oh my gosh you’re going to miss your plane.”
I thought I was okay on time, but took that to mean she didn’t want to continue this conversation. I started to zip up my bag, thought twice, and squeezed in another day’s worth of clothes. In case my boss Damian made me stay longer.
As I zipped up the bag, without looking up, I casually said, “Think about it.”
Not quite sure if I was talking about her going on a date, or sending me photos of her with another man.
Emily left the office early, driving faster than she usually did. Though she needed to stop at the grocery store she went right home, no thought of the gym or any other delays.
Wanting to make sure she
was at the house when Justin called.
Which was ridiculous. It was barely six o’clock, it would be hours before he called. Still, she practically ran into the house, checking the answering machine. No calls. She pulled out her cell for the third time since leaving the office, no messages there either.
Of course not. Justin wouldn’t be calling to check up on her. Or even to prod her to go out.
She should have been shocked at his suggestion for her to go on a date when he was away, but she hadn’t been. First, because she knew the idea excited him. And second, because she’d been thinking about it herself.
Not that she’d do it, of course. And if she did, nothing would happen.
Then why was she so nervous? And why had she been thinking about it in the first place?
It was all because of what had happened at the hotel bar. The men fighting over her. The soldier leaving the two woman to pursue her instead. The thrill of knowing Justin was watching.
She hadn’t lied to Justin. It had been fun and exciting. A kind of fun and excitement she’d never even imagined. And now that she’d tasted it, she realized she liked it. What made it all the more acceptable was that she had managed to put Justin first and foremost in her mind when she needed to. She had worried that she’d lose that ability, that it would affect their relationship. Their relationship was different, no doubt about that, but not in the way she’d worried about.
That she could go back and forth between her two worlds was reassuring. One world where Justin was her partner, where he was the only man she thought about sexually. The other world where Justin was still her partner, but where she was thinking about another man.
The proof of it was that she’d been with Dwayne, and yet she felt closer to Justin than ever. Of course, Justin had been present for that encounter.
Would it be the same if he had not been there?
When did a shared wife turn into an open marriage?
She jumped when the phone rang. Expecting Justin, although it was way too early.
Instead it was her sister Lisa.
“I never did get those details,” said Lisa.
Emily smiled. Typical Lisa, jumping right into things, no preamble. “I’m fine,” said Emily. “And you?”
