Table for Four

by Diana Hunter

  David’s hands ran over Lissa’s body, loving how she felt; he knew every curve, every spot that produced a tickle—and every spot that would produce a moan. He wanted moans tonight. He needed to hear his wife respond to his touch as he imagined himself in bed with another.

  His fingers unbuttoned her blouse even as hers trembled to unbutton his shirt. She pushed it off his shoulders and for once did not make any attempt to catch it and hang it neatly over the chair. Instead, she let it lie, pressing her lips to his nipple, sucking gently to make it stand up, hard and proud. David was not a hairy man and Lissa enjoyed running her tongue over his satiny smooth chest. Did Richard have a smooth chest? She doubted it and wondered what it would be like to run her fingers through a mat of hair on a hirsute man.

  Their sexy dinner companions remained silent partners in their lovemaking as David undressed Lissa and led her to the bed. For David, the thought of actually having sex with another woman made making love to his own wife that much more sweet. Her fantasies of bondage aside, she was such an innocent lover. He pulled aside the covers for her and watched as she crawled into the bed from his side, her naked body gleaming in the moonlight from the still-opened shade. Standing beside the bed, he fantasized that the figure belonged to Adora and that she would turn and take his cock in her mouth. He ran his hand along its length as he indulged himself in the dream, then climbed into bed beside his wife.

  David was a wonderful, careful lover, and Lissa knew how lucky she was to have him, even though she longed for a rougher touch. His hands cupped her breast as he carefully placed a kiss on her nipple sending a small shiver down her belly to her sex. She imagined him throwing his care for her to the wind and grabbing her hard. Her breath caught in her throat as she fancied Master Richard’s ring glinting in the moonlight as the gypsy’s fingers squeezed her breast. But it was the hand of her husband and in her guilt at wanting another man, she made love to David as if it were the first time, covering his neck and the hollow of his throat with her kisses.

  Knowing Lissa had never come on her back, David entered her that way anyway, then swung her up and over his hip until she was seated on top, his long and slender cock firmly nestled inside her warm, wet opening. She squealed and giggled as his firm hands lifted her and the two of them switched positions. Her legs straddled his hips and she pushed herself upright, feeling the movement of his cock inside her.

  “Mmmm, David. I like this position very much.”

  “I know you do. Now ride me, woman, and make your husband come!” David’s voice was husky with desire and Lissa knew she shouldn’t tease him. Not now. Not tonight.

  Gripping him tightly with her vaginal muscles, a groan from below rewarded her. She leaned forward ever so slightly, just enough to get pressure onto her clit, and felt the familiar warm fuzzy feeling radiate outward as she connected. Many Saturdays, David’s careful handling of her meant she didn’t come, but with the image of Richard’s hands on her body swirling through her head, the tension built quickly. Her breath grew more and more ragged as David pumped into her from below.

  Lissa rarely made any noise during sex—David knew she was quiet by nature. But tonight she whimpered and even cried out once as her orgasm moved closer to reality. Until he heard her cries, he had not realized he missed them. She used to cry out much more often when they were first married—only in the past year had she grown quiet. Quiet like Adora. Hearing her moans fueled his own need and as he joined her in the riding of their bodies, he imagined himself making a certain blonde woman scream her climax.

  For the first time in ages, they came together, the music of their passion louder than it had been in many, many years. And when Lissa collapsed on top of him, David held her close, loving how she snuggled into him for warmth and protection. He could not remember a time when he’d felt so close to her.

  “Lissa…” he whispered. She said nothing, but simply turned her head so she could see him in the moonlight, and he continued, his thoughts unguarded after their moment of passion. “Lissa, have you ever dreamed of being with another man?”

  Lissa smiled sadly at her husband—he must have known. “Yes, but not often!” She didn’t want him to think her fantasies often got away with her.

  “I do, too,” he admitted. “I mean, I think of being with another woman, not another man.” David grinned—he liked women way too much to care about sex with a man. In fact, having more than one woman service him would be just fine. “But it doesn’t mean I don’t love you,” he hastened to add.

  “Of course it doesn’t, silly!” Lissa giggled. “No more than appreciating a fine figure walking down the street means you no longer find me attractive.” She paused for effect. “You do still find me attractive, don’t you?”

  “You’re beautiful.” David kissed her nose for emphasis, then let his head fall back to the pillow, staring up at the ceiling as his thoughts continued to spin. “I know I cannot give you all you need in bed…” His voice trailed off, unsure how to suggest what he was thinking.

  “David, you have tried the dominance-thing and it isn’t for you. That’s okay. It means a lot to me that you tried.” Lissa hugged him close to her so he would not see the longing in her eyes. She loved him and would not hurt him for the world. But as long as they were being honest, there was a piece that she should own up to. “And I know I am not exactly the lover you would like either,” she murmured into his chest.

  David kissed the top of her head. “You are my wife, and I respect you. I guess it would be nice to be with a woman I didn’t have to respect. Just once,” he added as her head came up to look at him. “Just once, that’s all. It’s just a fantasy, anyway.” He tried not to sound defensive.

  “You do respect me, and that’s what we both need from each other. A mutual respect.” Lissa stressed the word mutual—trying to make him realize they both had unfulfilled fantasies. “And David, that’s all right. I want your respect in our relationship. She paused, then added quietly, “I just don’t want your respect in the bedroom.”

  “What, you want me to treat you like a tramp?” David shook his head. “I can’t do that. I love you too much.”

  “I know. But yes, just once in my life I want to be a slut. I want to have sex that’s down and dirty and rough.” When he said nothing, she looked up at him, nervous that she had said too much. “I’ve shocked you, haven’t I?”

  David shook his head. “Actually, you haven’t, and that’s what surprises me. I guess I’ve known that for some time. Are you disappointed that I can’t give that to you?”

  Lissa shrugged and held him tighter. “Only a little,” she admitted. “Are you disappointed that I can’t give you what you want?”

  For answer, David returned her hug. “Only a little.” He pulled her up to him and kissed her long and deep, her lips all the sweeter for the revelations she made. “Get some sleep, my love.”

  Lissa’s smile was fond as she rolled over to her side of the bed. In moments, David’s soft snores filled the room, but Lissa stared at the wall, her mind filled with guilt and images of a tall man with broad shoulders, dressed all in black. It was quite some time before exhaustion pulled her into a restless sleep.

  Chapter 2

  All too quickly Monday evening was on her doorstep.

  Over the intervening forty-eight hours, she and David had shied away from the topic they had discussed Saturday night. Their mutual admission of dissatisfaction with each other’s sexual styles created an intimacy neither expected. An intimacy fragile and precious. Neither one wanted to break it.

  Still, when Lissa didn’t emerge from her shower for over an hour late Monday afternoon, David’s patience was sorely tried. “What took you so long? It’s only a diner date with friends.”

  “Yeah, well, shaving takes time, you know!” Lissa shot over her shoulder as she rummaged through her closet. But once she heard the bathroom door shut and knew she was alone again, she leaned her forehead against the clothes bar and tried to still her th
oughts that ran as out of control as a flock of chickens when the fox was near.

  Just why was she primping so much for this dinner? Every time David had mentioned their dinner date, Lissa rolled her eyes and shook her head. But now, in the darkness of her closet, with David’s words ringing in her head, she faced the awful truth about the dinner she was about to attend. She was afraid.

  Master Richard’s face, his voice, his touch on her hand, haunted her every waking moment. To see him again was something she wanted more than anything. She imagined him commanding her, tying her up and using her body as a toy. She imagined him caressing her face and her breasts with his hands, while she offered her body for his pleasure.

  But even as her mind touched on the thought, she recoiled. She could not look so deep, what lay hidden there only brought her shame and sent a spike of fear through her stomach. All day she had been on edge and hadn’t eaten a thing. Now she was very glad she hadn’t. To desire such a thing almost made her physically ill. It was too perverted—she must banish such thoughts from her mind.

  She finished dressing and eyed the bottom drawer of her dresser. Makeup or no makeup? Usually it was too much to bother with, although David liked to see her wear it when they went out. Personally, she preferred to show her real face to the world—not some mask she put on. Cringing at her own hypocrisy, she turned from the dresser in disgust.

  Pulling faces at himself in the mirror as he shaved off the day’s growth, David grinned at the irony. Lissa was right, shaving did take time when you wanted to do it right. He had no illusions about accepting the invitation to dinner; while he enjoyed Richard’s conversation, he really wanted another chance to admire Adora’s beauty and fuel his fantasies. Forcing Lissa to endure the attentions of Master Richard seemed a small price to pay for one more glimpse of that erotic goddess.

  By the time David emerged from his shower, Lissa had dressed and gone downstairs. And so he did not see the agonizing choices she made over each article of clothing. “Casual.” That’s how David had told her to dress for this evening. But “casual” meant so many different things depending on the situation. The weather forecaster predicted continuing warm weather, so Lissa finally decided on an ankle-length white skirt that buttoned up the side and a scoop-necked peasant blouse of pale pink. Scarlet red was her best color, but tonight was a night of subtlety…and desire. The critical glance she ran over her image in the large bedroom mirror turned faraway when it fell on the buttons that fastened her skirt. So easy for his strong hands to undo those buttons—one by one—until she lay bared to his sight. Only a small thong covered her pussy, the thin strap neatly dividing her cheeks and allowing no line to show through the white material. Lissa felt slutty and sexy; in the privacy of her house, she gave her hips a nice swing as she went downstairs.

  But once they turned into the drive, Lissa’s second thoughts clamored in her head. Khaki pants and a lightweight short-sleeve shirt were all well and good for David; men were so lucky. She didn’t want lines, so she wore the thong; she wanted to look sexy, so she wore the pushup bra. And now that she was here, she wanted to run home and find a long-sleeved turtleneck sweater and a nice pair of baggy, unflattering sweatpants.

  David’s heartbeat raced with nervous excitement as the two of them managed the short walk to the front door. He wasn’t sure what kind of house he had expected but there was a great deal of comfort in seeing the story-and-a-half Cape Cod tucked in among all the other “normal” houses on the street. Something unique—just like Adora.

  He rang the doorbell and almost instantly, the goddess herself appeared at the door. Golden hair caught up in the back accentuated her naked, slender neck. Not even a necklace graced that whiteness. David could not stop his glance from traveling down to take in her beautiful bosom, barely contained in the tight tank top that stretched itself so thinly across her breasts he could see her nipples outlined against the light fabric. She again wore a skirt, a long, shimmering, sheer skirt this time that hid nothing. Nothing. Not A Thing. Only a nudge from Lissa brought him back to the fact that Richard had joined Adora at the door.

  Dressed again all in black, the Gypsy king’s regal bearing was impossible to ignore. Like a crown prince of Arabia, he bowed his greeting with a nod of his head and a graceful wave of his arm. “Welcome to our home.” The deep sexiness of his voice, gentle and seductive, gave Lissa’s stomach a little flip of excitement. Swallowing hard and raising her chin in defiance of her nervousness, she crossed the threshold and concentrated instead on the safer form of Adora as she followed her hostess into the house.

  The entryway wasn’t much more than an alcove in the corner of the house, a place more for keeping out the drafts in the winter than for any other useful purpose. A few steps brought them to the living room, exotically decorated with tapestries, two overstuffed armchairs and pillows.

  Huge orange pillows with tassels.

  Long bolster-type pillows of scarlet and black.

  Thick, downy pillows, comfortable and alluring.

  Their bright oranges and reds accentuated the deep rich blues and greens of the heavy, dark drapes hung at the windows. Many-hued tapestries covered the walls, pooling fabric on the floor in puddles of rich color. Several small lamps on tiny tables spilled soft, romantic light over the room.

  For a moment, David and Lissa just gazed in astonishment before Lissa blurted, “It looks like the inside of a Gypsy caravan!”

  “Ah, yes, my dear, a little bit of the Old Country here in our own home.” Master Richard came up beside her, his hand on her elbow. Lissa resisted the urge to pull away, instead opting for a strong and steady look into the man’s eyes. It was a mistake. Deep pools of quiet command gazed back at her, capturing her eyes, holding her soul in his gaze. Not since she was a teenager had Lissa blushed so deeply. She barely knew this man, why did he have the power to make her feel like an innocent schoolgirl? Her inner being naked before his scrutiny, Lissa found it difficult to breathe.

  “Perhaps Madam would care to recline?”

  Before she could protest, Master Richard led her to a luxurious pile of cushions beside one of the chairs. Determined to regain her composure, she avoided his eyes and sat with a graceful flourish of her skirt, being sure to let the slit in the side show just a bit of her calf and knee as she settled herself. Only then did she dare look at her husband.

  David, however, was not paying her any attention. From the moment Adora slid her hand in his, he was aware of nothing but her wide blue eyes that spoke volumes to him. When she led him to the chair beside Lissa, he made no objection, willing to go anywhere the goddess led him.

  While his outward demeanor remained amiable, Richard’s inner self noted Lissa’s careful dressing and David’s eagerness. The woman would not be easy; he could see she would be the one who needed convincing. And would the man still be interested in Adora once he knew some of her history? Richard eyed the couple carefully as they settled into settings very unfamiliar to them. He and Adora had searched before. Would these two be any different? Adora signaled him with a glance and he bowed to his guests.

  “Be comfortable, my friends. We will return in a moment.” Master Richard left the room, Adora following behind.

  An arched opening stretched between the living room and dining room; Richard and Adora passed through it and turned right on the other side to disappear through a swinging door to the kitchen. To David, it seemed the light dimmed in the room when Adora followed her husband through the arch.

  “So why do you suppose you get the chair and I get the floor? Don’t tell me there aren’t some very ‘Old Country’ traditions going on here!”

  David forced himself to focus on his wife, still sitting gracefully among the cushions. “Can’t say as I mind it.” He grinned to let her know he was only teasing.

  “Well, it’s not all that uncomfortable.” Lissa’s concession was grudging. She grinned up at her husband. “You really are smitten, you know.”

  David sighed. There was
no use trying to hide it. “I know. Are you mad?”

  Lissa shook her head, a little surprised to discover she wasn’t. “No, I’m not angry at all. She’s gorgeous. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen such a sexual being in my life.” Except for Master Richard, she amended in her head.

  “Really? That surprises me.” Somehow he had not expected Lissa to respond to Adora’s sex appeal.

  “Why? Because I can see her erotic-ness? If there is such a word. She’s the type of woman men fall all over themselves for. I can’t be jealous of that. It’s like being jealous of someone because they have a goatee and you do not.”

  “Like Richard’s. Do you like his beard?”

  David saw his wife’s sudden discomfiture and knew he had hit closer to home than she wanted him to. “You’re as smitten with him as I am with Adora!”

  “No, I’m not!” But her cheeks colored and she looked away, pretending to examine the room’s furnishings.

  “Yes, you are! Admit it, Lissa. I know the man is sexy…heck, even I saw the way every woman’s head turned in the diner. You blush every time he looks at you.”

  “Okay, so I find him a bit…attractive. But I still think he’s a bit full of himself.”

  “Lissa, it’s all right to admit you’re attracted to him. In fact…” David hesitated.

  “What?”

  David searched her upturned face, so innocent, yet so full of life and desire. He knew his wife well, better than she thought he did. He knew she yearned for a sexual partner who would give her what she needed; what he could not. Was Master Richard that partner?

  “In fact, I love you very much.” He could not bring himself to suggest it. She would never consider such a thing. No matter how much he might want Adora.

  The reply died on her lips as Master Richard reentered the room, his presence filling the empty spaces. Briefly, Lissa ignored him, trying to determine what David had not said. Except the Gypsy king held out his hand in a regal gesture to help her rise.