by Jason Lenov
She looked into her mug, as if there were answers there, and sighed. When she looked back up, I could tell it was no longer just a game.
"I don't want this to break things. To break us."
"God Beck, neither do I. That's the last thing I want."
She eyed me with a cautious look, like she was scared of what she was about to say. "If I tell you something, will you..." she paused, thinking. "That's not fair," she said finally.
"What's not?"
"I was going to make you promise that things wouldn't change if I said what I'm about to say. That's not fair. Sometimes things change. We just have to be good at changing with them, right?"
That made a whole lot of sense.
"Right."
"So here's the thing. You seem to love this. You seem to be really into it as a fantasy, right?"
"Right."
"But sometimes fantasies are just better left inside your head. Sometimes if you get to have them in real life they change, they're not what you thought they would be, they're bigger, weirder, scarier, right?"
"Right, I guess but..."
"What I'm saying, John, is that I don't want what happened last night to happen in real life. I don't want to do something we can't take back to come between us. We have too good of a life, too much love to let that happen. I don't want to fall asleep again, feeling the way I did last night."
Oh. So she did know.
"You remember that?" I asked. She rolled her eyes. And smiled.
"John, of course I remember. I don't just pass out and forget things like you. I'm not man."
"You're not pissed?"
"I was. I was last night. When I woke up this morning, I realized how lucky we were that it happened that way. That it happened between just the two of us and not with someone else involved. We can take it back, pretend it never happened and move on with our lives. I don't think it would be that easy if...you know. If it had been for real?"
Damn. She was smart.
There was something else though. Something gnawing at the back of my mind.
"What about you?"
"What about me?"
"I mean, don't you want this too?"
She thought for a moment. "Not as bad as you, it seems. I could go without."
I wasn't sure if that hurt or helped. But I wasn't sure about much anymore.
"But it turns you on?"
"Sure it does," she shrugged and sipped her coffee.
As soon as she'd said it, I got all revved up again. In a good way.
"Why?"
And as soon as I said it, I realized that this had been what I'd wanted to know all along. Not just about myself. About her.
I watched her staring back into that coffee for a while, until she looked at me again. "Because of your attention. Because you look at me differently than every day. You...need me more, or something? I want to say it better than that, but it's kind of hard to say."
"I need you all the time," I offered, only to try and help her explain.
She smiled, a knowing smile at my mind trick. "Yeah. I know. But these last few times...it's like, something about your jealousy makes it more real. Stronger."
Adrenaline travelled through my body again as I heard her say the word.
"Don't get upset, John, please?"
"I'm not," I answered, too quickly for it to be true.
"Come on. I know you. I know you're stewing in the tiny head of yours. No games right now, right?"
She was right. She was right to call me out about it too.
"Okay. No games."
"You do get jealous, right?"
I nodded, not sure of what to say.
"But it's not angry jealous, is it?"
"It's not only that," I said, looking out the window.
"What is it?" she asked, her voice gentle.
"It's...it's just...there's something about other men, seeing you in that way. The way they look at you, their eyes make you into sex."
She smiled a little smile.
"You know what I think?" she asked.
"What?"
"I think we should just leave this. For now, I mean. Let's just leave it for now and if it comes back or we're thinking about it more we can talk it through again?"
I didn't want to do that. I didn't want to leave this new found heat behind. But I knew that she was right. The best thing to do was wait. We could always have more fun. Once we'd had it though, we couldn't take it back.
Chapter 16
That was not that, though. Because a few weeks later, after Mason and Tyler had left and our next guests had arrived a message came. Just a gentle reminder that things were not the way we'd left them.
I'm not quite sure why I decided to revisit the page where I'd put up the ad. For the few days, even after our talk, I'd felt good about everything, like we'd made the right decision and could move on, at least for the time being.
But soon enough that same old voice began to whisper in my mind, poking me as I tried to go about my day.
Come on, John. Just a peek?
I tried to wrestle with it. I tried to silence it with exercise, then booze, we even had mediocre sex a few times, but it just wouldn't go away. As I worked, as I ate, it would quietly harass me, willing me to bend. Finally, realizing this would probably always be a thing for me, this obsession, no matter whether we indulged it or not, I slipped back into an old habit and went back to the site where I'd left the ad.
My pulse quickened as soon as the page popped up. I hadn't been staring as intently this time, not expecting anything there, but the little red icon in the top right corner caught my eye right away.
It was strange because I hadn't logged onto the page in weeks. I'd taken the ad down so no one else would respond. Had someone seen my profile and just decided to message me? With fresh adrenaline coursing through me, I clicked the little envelope, staring hard at the screen. The subject of the message made me shake a little.
Lookin' good. When are we doing this?
Looking good. Who looked good? With a trembling hand I clicked and opened up the body of the message and what I saw there took my breath away.
The familiar shape of Rebecca's body, positioned in such a way that all her curves were on display was attached to the previous sent message. For a moment, I panicked. Had I sent this in a drunken stupor? But I had never seen this picture of my wife! The realization of what must have happened began to dawn on me slowly.
She had seen the ad. She'd seen it that day I left myself logged in. Not only had she seen it, she'd replied. My mind raced backwards frantically, trying to piece together where we'd been on our journey then. Had we talked about any of this yet? Had she known what I was thinking yet? Or had she just put it together from seeing the ad?
Suddenly it didn't matter. What mattered was that this proved, in my mind at least, that without a shadow of a doubt she wanted this. She wanted this as much as I did. The excitement of that was something I could barely control.
I switched the screen to our booking calendar and looked a few weeks ahead. There was plenty of time in the middle of the week but should I do this? Should I do it now, without even asking her? The question tugged and tore at my insides. I knew what I wanted, or I thought I did, but what would she say? How would Rebecca react to all of this?
We all do things we feel like we might regret later sometimes. I suppose I felt that way about this. There was definitely a voice in my head saying, "You know John, you really should think this through." At that moment thought, I didn't care. I didn't care to think about where this would lead us or what the future would bring. I cared only about the surge of excitement I got at thinking about her with a stranger between her thighs.
Picking a date, I typed it into the reply box below the message and still shaking slightly, clicked "Send."
Another deep breath. I'd been taking a lot of those. I wondered for a second whether I should leave the window with the message open and quickly realized I had no choice. After what
we'd talked about, I had to make sure Rebecca knew. I had to make sure it was as obvious as possible that this was what I wanted, that this was what I craved. I turned off the monitor, leaving myself logged in and slightly terrified.
As soon as I went downstairs and saw her cooking, I was assaulted by the same visceral craving for her I'd felt when I saw her with Andre, or when I'd imagined her with Sam's fishing friends. I wanted her, needed her more than ever and I could barely contain the desire. Coming up behind her, I nuzzled into her neck, trying not to touch my stiffness to her ass.
"Hey!" she giggled and squealed, dropping the wooden spoon she'd been stirring with onto the floor. "What's up with you?"
I backed away, leaned against the counter and eyed her shapely form. "Just want to make sure you know I love you," I said, smiling.
"Okay," she replied, looking a little puzzled at the sudden affection.
I was overcome by a warmth, a loving feeling for her and I just wanted to hold her there in the kitchen, close to me and tell her what I'd done. At that moment our guests walked in the front door, followed by Sam. Rebecca looked at them and waved.
"How was it?"
"Spectacular!" Edna Simpson replied. "We saw three whales! This is the loveliest vacation we've taken in a long time! We're going to recommend it to all our friends! I must go to the bathroom!" Removing her shoes, she flapped her way up the stairs followed by her decidedly more sullen husband who grumbled a greeting before they both disappeared in the stairwell.
Sam walked up and took a seat at the counter. "How's she goin' buddy?"
"She's going just fine Sam," I replied, nodding.
"Hi Sam!" Rebecca said, "Good day out there?"
"Oh it was fair. Little choppy but that bothered the mister more than it did the missus. I gotta say this was some idea ye had. Hell, that's no work at all. Just take the boat out and drive it around a bit. See some whales? Great. No whales? File it under 'not my problem' and tell 'em better luck next time."
"But who'd want to go out in that leaky old bucket and look at fish?" I mocked.
"Well it did seem pretty preposterous to me at the time you said it but now I see that you were, indeed, right. So there you have it."
"John, can you stir this for me? I'll be right back," Rebecca asked.
I took a spoon and began making circles in the pasta sauce. "You want a coffee Sam?"
"Nah! I'll make some dinner at home and have one after."
"You're welcome to stay for dinner if you want? Rebecca's made plenty."
Sam leaned a little before asking. "To be honest, I've had a bit too much of Edna today. She's a chatterbox, that one is. I think I'll just spend the night at home."
"Suit yourself."
"Yeah. I'll be on my way." He pushed the stool he'd been sitting on back and stood up. "You keep booking those fishing vacations though, you hear? That money talks good and loud!"
"Will do, Sam. Will do."
I stirred the sauce in silence for a while after he'd left, tasting it once or twice. Rebecca really was getting better and better in the kitchen. Her arms around my waist made me jump and drop the spoon and I spun around as she pressed herself against me.
"Hey!" You scared me!" I almost yelled. She looked up at me with the kindest smile.
Immediately I wondered if she'd seen what I had done.
"I love you John Forrest. Very much."
I smiled back and cocked me head. "I love you too, my beautiful wife."
She pressed herself against my chest and we stayed like that until the smell of burning sauce made us both leap to action to save the night.
Chapter 16
"So what do you want for your birthday?"
I turned to see her standing in the doorway of the bathroom wearing nothing but a t-shirt, leaning against the frame, her body curved in a seductive pose. I felt my cock rise at the sight of her and smiled a complicit smile.
"What did you have in mind?"
"Well," she began, walking towards the bed, her hips a mesmerizing pendulum, I couldn't help but watch. "I thought that maybe..." She trailed off as she leaned down and crawled beneath the sheets.
"Yes?" I had some inkling of what she was thinking.
"I was kind of thinking of a surprise."
"Oh really?" I replied, playing coy. My cock had stiffened almost fully now in anticipation of what she was hinting at. "What's the surprise?"
"Well it wouldn't be much of a surprise if I told you, would it?" she giggled.
I laughed because she obviously wanted me to dig. "Okay. I guess I'll just have to wait and seen then." She frowned a little, obviously disappointed. that I hadn't tried a little harder.
"Are you sure you don't want to know?"
I did, but the game was kind of fun. "Does that mean you want to tell me?"
She huffed a little, a serious little huff that sounded like I wasn't playing the game by her rules. "John!"
"What?!? Do you want me to know or don't you?"
"Well, I just thought we could talk about it a little. I don't want..."
I could feel her mood starting to sour. Realizing I was losing a chance at a pleasant evening, I changed my course. "Hey, I'm sorry. I want to know. I really thought you wanted to surprise me."
"Well I wouldn't have told you about it if I really wanted it to be a surprise. Besides, I think we need to talk about this some more. Before it happens?"
"Okay," I pushed myself up on my elbows, put down the book I'd been reading and put on my best listening face. "Shoot."
She was tentative, but a little more open than she'd been a few moments ago. "I just want to make sure. You left that window open so I could see it, right?"
Excitement flooded through me as I realized she was talking about what I wanted her to be talking about. "Yes," I answered firmly.
"So, you want to try this?"
"Yes," I replied, not faltering in my resolve.
She bit her lip and smiled, obviously as excited about it as I was. "You're sure?"
This was it. I could still back out. The adrenaline that was rushing through me wouldn't let me though. "I'm sure."
"Okay," she said, bouncing up to sitting and clapping her hands together. "Here's the first part. Andre called. He wants to come back. Middle of next week. What do you think?"
A nervous energy gripped me at her words. If she was saying what I thought she was saying, she wanted it to be him. She wanted it to be with him. "You want this?" My voice shook from nerves and desire.
"Only if you do, Mr. Forrest," she cooed, walking two fingers up my chest.
The excitement in her eyes made me almost as nervous as my own. How much was she going to enjoy this? How much was she looking forward to it? As much as me? More? If more, why?
Her eyes narrowed, as if she were trying to peer deeper into me. "John, if you're having second thoughts.."
"No." I put a hand on her arm and locked eyes with her. "No, Beck. I'm not."
A smile lit up her face again. "In that case, I thought that we could maybe do a little practice run? You know, so you're ready for your surprise?"
"What did you have in mind?"
The truth was it didn't matter what she had in mind. I was already stiff as a board and anything would have done just fine. "Wait!" I said as her fingers dipped under the covers, searching for my cock. "What about the second part? The second part of my surprise?"
She shook her head gently. "Unh-unh. If the first part goes well, I'll give you the second part but I'm not telling you what it is."
That didn't matter either. As soon as her fingers found my cock, as soon as she wrapped her warm hand around my flesh I didn't care about any surprises but the one I was about to get.
"So Mr. Forrest?" she purred, slipping down under the covers beside me, "what are we going to do about your first surprise?"
"What do you mean?" I whispered, breathless at her touch and not wanting to deal with details now.
"I mean," she said slowly, her fing
ers gently gliding along the skin of my cock, making me bounce. "I want to know what exactly it is you'd like me to do for you?"
A surge of blood rushed from my brain to my cock then back up to my cheeks as I realized what she was implying. "Beck," I began, looking away, unable to look her in the eye, embarrassed at what she wanted me to say. "I can't just..."
"Oh, you can't?" she interrupted with a toying pout. "Well I guess you'll just have to tell me what you like."
She pulled my underwear off together with the covers, then pulled her shirt off above her head. I gasped at the beautiful sight of her perfect breasts. She leaned down over me, grazing the head of my cock with her lips as her fingers wrapped around the base again.
"Would you like me to do this to him?" she whispered, then immediately sank down onto my length, pushing me into her until her chin was at my balls and I was clutching at the sheets with my fingers.
The thought of it, the thought of him sitting on a bed, my wife taking his girth in her mouth, swallowing as much of him as she could into her throat made me tremble and flex with desire. I couldn't help but stare at her as she moved her head slowly from side to side and I felt the gentle flexing of the muscles in her neck around my head.
Suddenly, Rebecca vanished in my mind, replaced by this wanton, willing slut that had taken her place.
I heard her choke and gag right before she came off me. When she looked up there were tears starting to form in her eyes, her mascara starting to run with them down her cheeks. She breathed long, heavy breaths and as she stared straight at me, she cracked a crooked smile.
"Would you like that Mr. Forrest?" she asked again, spit and bile dripping from her lip onto her chin.
It almost felt like I wasn't in control of myself. I didn't have the space to think about it really. So I nodded "yes."
She leaned in, licked the length of my shaft, trailing her tongue with her hand, then bent onto me and started covering me in kisses. As she stroked me, she crawled up my body, nibbling at my nipples, nuzzling into my neck until she found my earlobe with her mouth and bit it gently.
Something inside me, a curiosity, rose along with my arousal. I plunged my hand between her legs and onto her soft flesh.
