All the characters described herein are 18 years of age or older, fictional; and any resemblance between them and anyone, living, dead, or imaginary, is purely coincidental. Of course, this story contains explicit sex, so don't read it and go elsewhere if it's illegal wherever you are. Thanks for reading, and best regards!
- Ham Sandwich
Fantasy Friday
Thomas had been looking forward to Friday evening all week, but there was a bit of apprehension involved, too. Arielle, his wife, had won the coin toss, so she would be the one calling all the shots. The following Friday would be his turn. They'd been married long enough that their love life had gotten a tad routine, so Arielle had come up with this idea of having each Friday where they'd take turns living out some sexual scenario. She called it "Fantasy Friday," and this evening was the inaugural event. They had agreed that whoever was on top would pretty much be able to mandate whatever sort of action desired. The other party would have veto power, but it would only be used in extreme circumstances and not without a stigma attached.
So the evening had begun with dinner out. They both arrived from their respective places of employment at a new place that Arielle had inspected beforehand. She wanted to see the menu, but she was more interested in the length of the tablecloths. Satisfied, she'd made the reservations and got there first. The hostess assumed the couple would want a quiet table in an alcove, but Arielle surprised her by requesting that they be seated in the very center. Thomas arrived shortly thereafter and took his seat across from his wife.
"Don't you want to visit the little boys' room?" she inquired with feigned innocence once he'd gotten settled in.
"No, I'm fine." he replied and began to take a sip of his drink..
"I think you need to pay a visit there," she stated. Then she leaned in to make close eye contact. "I think you need to take off your boxer shorts and bring them to me," she announced and then noticed with amusement that her husband's drink seemed to have gone down the wrong pipe, because he was suddenly turning red and choking a bit. "Well!" Arielle said, speaking right up. "I believe you really do need to visit the restroom now! Don't forget to bring me those shorts, darling," she added with a whisper. Thomas left the table and headed for the men's room, sheepishly returning five minutes later. Arielle held out her hand, making no effort whatsoever to be discreet. He stood there staring at her hand, unsure how to proceed. Arielle snapped her fingers twice. "Hand 'em over," she ordered.
He quickly scanned the dining area and saw that none of the other diners were paying any attention to him, so he relaxed a bit. Their waitress and one other were standing against a wall watching for anyone in their respective sections who needed service. Unfortunately for Thomas, his waitress chose the very moment to look in their direction when he handed his underwear to his wife. Arielle took them in her hand and casually laid them out on the table and slowly began folding them. Their waitress nudged her coworker and nodded her head in Thomas' direction. The eyes of the second waitress opened wide at the apparent sight of the man's apparel in plain view, and her hand flew up to cover her gaping mouth. Thomas was aghast!
Their waitress couldn't quite believe what she'd just witnessed and was so curious that she marched over to their table to make sure. Arielle was still folding Thomas' underpants when the waitress asked if they needed anything. "No, everything's just fine." answered Arielle crisply, looking up at the astonished girl as coolly as could be as she put the folded shorts in her pocketbook.
"Are you alright, Tom?" she inquired once the waitress was gone. "You look a little out of sorts all of the sudden for some reason," she observed disingenuously. But Thomas was speechless and just managed to pull himself together by the time their dinner arrived. It looked delicious! He was just about to put the first forkful to his mouth when Arielle asked, "Tom, these high heeled sandals I'm wearing have become just a little too uncomfortable. Be a dear, would you? Come over here and unbuckle them for me?"
"Um...certainly," he replied and got up from his seat. He walked around to his wife's side of the table. She actually had him get down on his knees to unlatch her shoes! There, in the restaurant! "Oh, my God!" he thought. "I just want to eat my food and get out of here! And I pray I never see any of these people ever again!"
He returned to his seat and began eating. Well, the food was delicious! After a minute, he felt Arielle's bare foot caressing his crotch. She was smiling at him when he looked at her. "Thomas, I want you to reach down and undo your zipper. Then take your cock out so I can play with it," she said quietly in a tone of voice as matter-of-fact as if she were asking for an after-dinner mint.
"What? Right here?" he exclaimed.
"It's Fantasy Friday, Tom," she reminded him. He had no choice but to comply. Presently, she felt his hand on her foot, followed shortly thereafter by the feel of his naked foreskin against her toes. She slowly stroked his penis with them and was more than a little bit pleased to sense his growing hardness. Then she speared a broccoli floret with her fork and slyly brought it to her lips while she locked his eyes into hers. Her tongue licked the cheese sauce, provocatively and suggestively, while her foot massaged his cock. The look of desperation on Tom's face was pure pleasure to her! After another twenty minutes of this torture, she gave him a sickly sweet smile. "Look at you, Tom! You must not be very hungry this evening. Why, you've hardly touched your food! Well, I guess we'll go then..."
Of course, Thomas was hoping, yearning, actually, for a quick ride home, but that was not to be. Arielle wanted to do a bit of shopping first. Tom groaned when they approached a shoe store. Fifteen minutes later, she found an awesome pair of tall brown leather boots that looked sexy as hell with prominent golden zippers that ran all the way up the backs. The color of the leather perfectly complemented her long, brown hair that fell all the way to her waist. Thomas thought the new foot ware would be awfully uncomfortable for walking any kind of distance, but he said nothing. He didn't know at the time that Arielle had no intention of ever wearing those boots outside the bedroom. She saw them as a worthy addition to her select collection of what she called "fuck me" shoes.
Following her car with his on the drive home, Thomas suffering silently all the way, he reflected on how the week had gone and what they might do on Saturday, and that sufficed to get both their vehicles onto the driveway and parked. Arielle carried the shoe box into the house. She took it into the bedroom; presumably it was destined for her clothes closet. "I'm going to take a quick shower, and when I'm through, you'll get one," she instructed. "Then you can report to me here in the bedroom, and we'll begin our fun and games."
"Fun and games," Thomas thought skeptically. Well, we'll see.
Arielle was in and out of the shower in a record fifteen minutes, which Thomas found fairly amazing. He'd hardly finished checking his email on the office computer when it was his turn to prepare. His shower went quickly as well, and he was on his way out of the bathroom when he remembered to go back and brush his teeth and shave. Then he walked to the bedroom, stark naked, pushed open the door and entered the room.
He found his wife sitting on the far side of the bed with a towel on her lap, using her olive wood handled hair brush to untangle her long tresses. She turned her head and gave him a look of astonished surprise that stopped him in his tracks. "And just what, pray tell, do you think you're doing?" she demanded of him.
