by C. C. Morian
Melissa hesitated. Was this something she wanted someone else to know? Even Julie?
If not Julie, who else? She wasn’t close enough to anyone else to share this with, and it was driving her crazy. Maybe Julie could give her some help.
“I didn’t want to get into this on the phone,” Melissa said. “I’ll give you the details another time. But the short version is that Richard has suddenly been into it. Sex.” She stopped. “Shit. I hope no one can listen in on these conversations.”
“Might not be a bad thing,” said Julie. “Wake up some geezer at the NSA, get him focused.”
Melissa shuddered at the image. “I’m not sure how to start.”
“Come on, just spit it out.”
“Well, Richard is suddenly very interested, and more passionate than I have ever seen him. But not about me. Or only about me. He’s having these fantasies about me with other men.”
There was a long silence, that dreadful digital emptiness that always made people think that they had lost the connection. “Julie?”
“I’m here. Just surprised, that’s all. Did—and you don’t have to tell me this if you don’t want to, of course—did you do something to make him think about this? I’m not saying you caused it, I’m just wondering what set it off.”
Melissa didn’t take it the wrong way. “He kind of caught me looking at another guy.”
Julie laughed. “I get caught doing that all the time. It doesn’t even faze John anymore. Sometimes I just do it to bust his balls.”
“I’d never do that,” said Melissa. “You two have a different relationship.”
“So that means the guy you were looking at was hot!”
“He was. Very.” Melissa was sad that she could so easily admit this to her friend, but not her husband.
“So that’s it? The rooster effect?”
“The what?”
“The rooster effect,” explained Julie. “They’ve done these experiments with roosters and chickens. Stick a roster in with a bunch of hens, and he fucks them all, until he’s ready to pass out. Then stick a new hen in there, and he gets going again. Males always want the new thing.”
“I don’t get it.”
“You’re right. I got my animal kingdom things confused. That one is true, though. It’s why men are always on the prowl. What I was thinking about was something else, I forget what it is called. Basically, a male finds a female more attractive if other males want the female. Come to think of it, that’s true for females as well. See a bunch of women on a guy, you figure he’s gotta have something.”
“That’s what you think this is? Richard wants me now because he thinks other guys want me?”
“Who knows how men think? Sometimes they are so easy to figure, and then they throw something new at you. Not often, but when they do it’s a doozie.”
“Huh.” Melissa wondered. Could that be it? Some deeply embedded male genetic thing? Like her being drawn to the alpha male type? “I’ll think about it.”
“Melissa?” Julie’s voice was suddenly worried. “He isn’t actually suggesting you do something about this? Not just thinking about you with some other man, but seeing you do it?”
“What?” The thought hadn’t crossed Melissa’s mind. “No, nothing like that. Just that the thought turns him on.”
“Did it do anything for you?”
“We had some of our best sex ever,” Melissa admitted.
“Then what are you complaining about?” Melissa could imagine Julie smiling in the car as she said, “I told you there was nothing wrong with a little fantasy now and then. I was thinking about you, but if Richard’s fantasies do it, then your problem is solved!”
After Melissa hung up, she wondered about that. Was her problem solved, or just beginning?
Chapter 11
Another week went by. Melissa felt there was a little less tension in the house, but things had reverted to the usual—Richard working late, leaving early. Their paths barely crossed all week. Feeling somewhat relieved, though, about no longer having her suspicions about Richard having an affair, Melissa was able to better concentrate on work.
She was more attuned to one thing, however. She noticed men checking her out everywhere, in stores, on the street, even at work. It was as if she was wearing a big sign that said ‘I need more sex!’ or ‘I’m fertile!’ She could not believe how she had missed this before, and didn’t think she was imagining it.
Once or twice she thought about responding to some of the flirting she got, the suggestions, but decided that wouldn’t be fair. It wasn’t as if she’d go through with anything. These men had done nothing to her. Nothing bad, anyway.
One night, though, with Richard again still not home, Melissa had lay in bed, and thought about one of the men at work who definitely seemed interested in her. Even if she had been single she would never have done anything with him, the office was too small for a fling, but she let it play out in her mind, imagining the two of them together, maybe he would steal a kiss in the office, surprising her. Later they would be at work together late, the office nearly deserted, and he’d take her by the hand into a back room, she’d let herself be led, thinking it would only be for another kiss, but when they got there he’d be all over her, shoving her against the wall, his hands on her, forcing her skirt up, more than a little rough in his desire.
The image of a man being rough immediately made her think of Vern, the biker, and suddenly the man in her fantasy was Vern, she could feel the leather, his toughened hands, the buttons flying off her blouse as he reached in to grab her breasts, her arms around him, grasping his leather jacket. She turned him around, putting him against the wall, surprised by her own strength, unbuckling his belt and freeing him. She held his shoulders, thinking for a minute she was in charge, but he just smirked and spun her around, taking over, lifting her skirt and yanking her panties aside. He pushed his cock against her, without waiting to see if she was ready, but she was, she was wet, just like she was now, and she ran her finger over her clit, but Vern wouldn’t care about that, he wouldn’t be thinking about how she felt, he wouldn’t care, would he?
Frustrated, Melissa reached under the bed, needing more than her fingers now, her hands frantic, grabbing for her vibrator. She didn’t even bother to turn it on, she just shoved it in her pussy, moaning, pretending it was Vern, slamming into her. She imagined him groaning, the vision so vivid she could hear him. She was taming him, even though he was taking her she felt that she was getting to him, she would be the one to break him. His head was on her neck, then they were kissing, even the kiss was hard. She felt him tighten, her legs coming up, he was slamming into her. She rammed the vibrator in and could almost feel him shooting into her, and it was as if his cum was a switch that set her off, her orgasm a hard spasm.
She lay there gasping, listening. Had she screamed? Had Richard come home and heard her?
The house seemed empty. But it took a long time for her breathing to return to normal.
The next day at work, she carefully avoided the man at the office who she had been thinking of. She didn’t know what she would have done if she had found herself alone with him.
Another few days slipped by. Melissa saw more of Richard, but they talked about the usual things, work, their schedules. There was still a bit of unease, as if something was about to happen. But Melissa didn’t know if she was the one responsible for that. Maybe Richard thought everything was fine, that their sex life was back on track, that his fantasies would be enough to give them whatever Melissa thought they were missing.
In bed, Richard made no move to touch her that week. Melissa knew she could have started something, bringing up his fantasy, but she really wanted to see if the flame, no matter how it had been ignited, could kindle and last on its own.
The morning of date night rolled around. In the kitchen, Melissa got the usual peck as she poured coffee. Richard already seemed to be thinking of work. Sensing he wouldn’t be bringing it up, Melissa said, “Ton
ight’s our night, in case you can get home early.” As soon as she said it she was irritated; she shouldn’t have to tiptoe around the subject of sex, something so critical to their marriage and relationship. She shouldn’t have to bring it up at all, Richard should remember, he should be thinking of it, looking forward to it. Wanting it.
He glanced up at her, his eyes brooding, and offhandedly he said, “Sure.”
He hadn’t remembered at all.
That night though, Richard was home relatively early, not early enough for dinner and a leisurely time for some relaxation and wine together, but at least well before she went to sleep. Melissa waited in bed, something she seemed to be doing a lot lately, a little anxious. Why should she be nervous about having sex with her husband? Sex was supposed to be spontaneous, heated. Fun.
Now it was something she not only had to plan, but worried about.
Richard dropped into bed next to her, and for a few moments everything was fine, they chatted a bit about the day, he asked her how she was doing at work. Just reconnecting comfortably. Melissa began to relax. This was okay. Not the ‘I’ve been waiting all week for this’ that she craved, but the ease of a longstanding relationship, the togetherness of a marriage.
Melissa pressed against him, her hand on his chest, letting his voice wash over her, not really focused on the words so much. Richard’s voice didn’t seem especially tense, but his body did, or maybe it was just that he hadn’t wound down yet from the day. She could help with that.
She walked her fingers down his chest as he was speaking, letting her hand rest on his crotch, not squeezing or anything yet, just giving him some attention. She nuzzled into his neck, expecting him to turn to her for a kiss, but he just kept on talking. How could a man talk about work while in bed with a half naked woman whose hand was on his cock?
She could do more for him. She closed her fingers, and at the same time came up on her elbow, her face close to him. “Shh,” she said, covering his mouth with her lips. He kissed her back, but it was chaste, a brotherly kiss.
Melissa cupped him as she slipped her tongue into his mouth, intent now. It had become a challenge, a mission; she needed to be sure that she left nothing undone, that if he didn’t become aroused it was not her fault, the dangerous insecurity deep down inside that everyone carried threatening to rise up, to blame her for any failure here.
But nothing happened. Richard went through the motions, even putting his arm around her, but other than that she could have been kissing a gay actor. A very handsome gay actor, but someone immune to her femininity.
She rolled off, defeated.
They lay there in silence, the room suddenly filled with tension and defeat and sadness. Melissa didn’t know if Richard was sad, but her own sadness was certainly enough for both of them.
Fighting back tears, she said, “Are you tired?” Trying to keep the emotion out of her voice.
“No.”
“Anything the matter?”
“Not really.” Richard sounded as if he was going to say something else, then stopped.
“What is it?” Melissa prodded.
“Maybe if we tried, you know, talking about something, about you with someone else. That’s been working for us.”
Melissa stared at the ceiling. “I was hoping we could do it without that. Just the two of us. I want you to be excited by me. Not me with some other man.”
“I know. I’m sorry. It’s just stuck in my mind.” Richard’s words now came in a rush. “It bothers me too. That’s why I’ve been so distant. I’m trying to give it some time, let it burn itself out. But I can’t help it. I think about it all the time. Lying here, I’m forcing myself not to think about it, I’m thinking about work, anything to keep my mind off it.”
“You’re thinking about work when I am kissing you? When I have my hands on you?”
“Not like that, no. But come on, be truthful, are you telling me your mind has never been elsewhere when we are having sex?”
Melissa was about to say no, of course not, in fact she couldn’t ever remember any such thing, maybe years ago when she was drunk, but not with Richard. But then she remembered how aroused she had been while thinking of Marcus, thinking of Vern, all while having sex with Richard. Did that count? Was that her version of thinking about something else, the way Richard thought about work?
She shouldn’t need those fantasies though. She should be content with just Richard. Sure, she wanted more, but she could live with what she had. If she had to. She could still be aroused, she could still get into it.
Why did it feel like she was trying to talk herself into believing something?
Melissa thought back to her conversation with Julie, about how everyone had fantasies. They had been talking about Melissa, but it probably applied to Richard just as well. She sighed. “Maybe you shouldn’t fight it,” she said.
“What do you mean?”
“Maybe it’s just a phase. Or maybe it’s what you need right now. I was worried you were cheating. I know, that was foolish. I still want you to be excited by me. But this fantasy of yours, it’s pretty harmless. I have to admit, it still makes me feel a little insecure, that you need to think of something like that to get turned on with me. That I can’t do it for you by myself.”
Richard turned to her. “But I am thinking of you. I’m not thinking of some other woman. Just you.”
“Me with another man.”
“It’s still you, isn’t it? Would you rather me be thinking of another woman?”
He had her there. That would seem more—what, normal?—but it would certainly be worse. And in her fantasies she had been thinking about other men, about Marcus. . .
Fair is fair, she thought.
“I’m willing to do whatever you want,” she said, letting it go, at least for now. “Tell me what you were thinking about.”
Now Richard hesitated. “Are you sure? I was trying to get it out of my mind.”
“And how was that working for you?”
He laughed. “Not very well. It’s hard to not think of something.”
“Then tell me.” Melissa squeezed in close to him again.
“Okay.” There was a silence, as if he was deciding how much to tell, or gathering his thoughts. “I think about you with another man. Not only doing it with him, but I’m there. Watching.”
Now that was something she hadn’t considered. “I don’t think I could do that.”
“I’m not sure I could either. Or I’d want you to. But it’s a fantasy, right? Talking about it is not the same as doing it.”
Melissa gave a little laugh. “I think I’d be nervous if you were there.”
“Even if I was getting excited?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Well, how about this? Maybe instead of me being there, you tell me what happened.”
“You mean, I have sex with another man, and then tell you about it later?”
“Yes.”
Melissa frowned; she really was trying to picture it. “Just find some guy and have sex with him?”
“Maybe not all at once. It starts slow. Maybe you just lead someone on first, then later tell me about how it happened. In fact, you could actually do it, not just make it up, but actually flirt for real. I’m sure a lot of women do, just flirting. I bet just you doing that, and telling me about it, would get me aroused.”
Melissa felt his breathing quicken, his voice pick up in intensity. She dropped her hand between his legs again and could feel him stir.
“I see that,” she said. “But I’m not sure if I’d feel comfortable doing that, leading someone on.” Yet that’s exactly what she herself had been fantasizing about just a few days ago. “Who do you imagine I’m doing it with?”
“Anyone. Someone at work. The guys you met at the club. The college boys, you called them.”
“I told you, they were just kids. They’d probably have no idea what to do.” But she thought about Marcus; when she had been with him he had been no older
than those college boys, and he certainly had already known a lot of what to do. She could only imagine what Marcus could do now. . .
“But think of their stamina,” said Richard.
Melissa felt him harden, wondering if he was thinking of her with the two young jocks. It was an interesting thought, two men, virile, obviously wanting her, no matter what she had said it was obvious to her now that they did, it would be so easy.
She pictured them fumbling over her, good looking in a catalog model kind of way, maybe a little drunk, it made her think of her crazy college days, not as much fun looking back.
“I’m not sure that does it for me,” she said. “Too young.”
“How about the biker?” asked Richard.
She hesitated. “Vern?”
He tensed. “You know his name?”
Melissa knew this was the risk in this game, that the fantasy could easily slip to insecurity, to suspicion. How could she keep Richard going without breaking the mood? “I heard someone mention it at the pool.” She shifted her tone to one of playfulness. “Or maybe you’d rather think that I had been checking into him?”
Melissa felt his cock stiffen. “Why would you do that?” he asked, but now he seemed back into it.
Melissa moved her lips close to his ear, her voice a whisper. “If I’m going to fuck him I need to know where to find him, don’t I?”
Richard groaned. “Is that what you want to do, fuck him?”
His words surprised her, she rarely heard him talk like that. “Is that the kind of thing you think about? Is that what you want?”
He grabbed her hand, shoving it down on his engorged cock. “Yes,” he said, his voice shaking, breathless. “I want to see him inside you, fucking you.”
Melissa reached inside Richard’s shorts, wrapping her fingers around his erection, stroking him. In his ear she whispered, “I’d want to suck on him first.” She pivoted onto her knees, pulling his shorts down in one motion, her mouth enveloping him.
Melissa closed her eyes, and as she began to work her magic she let her mind slip away, caught up in it all, the biker on her mind, put there by Richard, but she didn’t fight it. She imagined it was Vern’s cock in her mouth, his hands roughly pushing her down onto him.
