Tell Me About Your Dalliances

This is an imaginary conversation with my wife, after we we had given up doing anything. Maybe I still can; I'd like to think so! Some of it is true; and some of it is not. Wink, wink!

One evening, we had started a second bottle of wine while watching a TV film about a couple's admitting their dalliances, but then landing in bed together. They were much younger than we were, so that was not going to happen. My wife took another sip of wine and grinned at me and said:

"I know about a couple of yours. We survived them years ago, and before we got engaged, well, ... you probably also weren't entirely faithful. Oh, I know you weren't."

She grinned again and took another sip and added:

"Well, you probably did too, after we were engaged, both of us on different continents. Did you?"

I sure had; it had been too easy back then. As a local guy had told me: "Just stay sober at parties till ten o'clock and the girls will like you." But she had too, my "betrothed"? I liked that: tit for tat; goose and gander. But did she really want to hear? I took a better sip of wine and nodded. She grinned again and said:

"I thought so, couldn't imagine your not doing anything for a year in that climate."

"Cold winter nights can also be an incentive, not just hot, sunny beaches."

"Oh, someone there?"

"No, not really; I met her the night before at an Oktoberfest party there."

"Oh, a German? But then on the beach?"

"Austrian, and just fondling her breast on the beach, before we got engaged."

"Hmm! Then that was all right; you know about ... [no names], about the same time."

"Um-hmm, sure do; you told me, but only much later."

"Not just him," and she grinned again.

"All the better; it wasn't just her."

"Oooh! Tell! It was just that Hungarian count and an old school friend. You know him too. No, you have just heard his name."

"With him?! Too? I thought you said he was sort of reticent, ... well, back in school."

"Hmmm! He still was. You did it better, the count, too."

"I didn't ask."

"But you did - better than the count too, and better than .... Else I might have married him."

"My good luck!"

We both grinned and drank again, and I refilled our glasses, liking our revelations, especially that she had also not been celibate during the separation of our engagement; made me feel less wicked about my dalliances, that had been more numerous. We drank again. She smirked and asked:

"How many?"

"Where, when?"

"All of them. I have told you about my first time and about ... [another name].

"'First time: that guy who wanted to show you his pajamas, and any others?"

"A couple, you tell first."

"Hmm? My first time? Didn't I ever tell you?"

"I don't think so."

"Sounds more romantic than it was. Someone she knew had told her that I was also going to be on the ship to Europe. Back then, ten days by sea didn't cost more than a flight, if one had the time and went third class – not on the "Queen" or "United States" of course."

"A real shipboard romance!"

"Not really, but she wanted to, liked that I hadn't been too forward the first couple of days. 'Forward,' me? Back then? I didn't know how to be. But then we were in the cabin I shared, on my upper bunk, and my cabin mate knocked. Embarrassing! But he went away. Did wonders for my reputation in our group, undeservedly."

"Hm-hmm! I can imagine. And ...?"

She must have been disappointed; gave me a hand job first - no rubbers - must have had more experience. We didn't do it again."

"Still sounds kind of romantic, shipboard and all that. And then?"

"A girl I met in Europe, in Florence. She said my legs were as good as Michelangelo's David's."

"Hm-hmm! Just your legs?"

"She didn't complain, still more 'forward' than I was. We wrote and saw each other two - no - three times, even met her parents, but then she married the guy she was pinned to."

"But she had still wanted to with you?"

"I guess so. Maybe really, since you ask. Her flatmates accepted me, maybe knew more about her feelings than I did. Hadn't thought about that before."

"Men!"

"More 'boys'; she was a year or two older."

"Hope she was - is - happy with him. And then?"

"A girl in college, ... and then one in New York. She was really the girlfriend of the brother of a girl I knew in Philly, but needed a place to spend the night in the City."

"Hmm?! Just like that?"

"She didn't say no."

"And the other girl, sister?"

"Probably disappointed her; I wasn't so aggressive back then."

"Like you weren't after our first date."

"Hm-hmm! You wanted me to be? Inviting me to come to your room, your bed, in the wee hours of the morning?"

"Hmmm? Maybe. You did come - not like that! But I think that I liked that you didn't do anything - with hindsight, like the girl on the ship."

"Probably would have a year or two later."

"Like you later did?"

"I guess so."

"Didn't seem like you wasted any time with the girl downstairs."

"Or she didn't; not sure how we ended up in bed the first time."

"But you did."

I took another sip, recalling what I couldn't tell: she had been the first girl to suck my cock, after I had started to lick her pussy. I had done that first with the girl from Florence. She had murmured that she wouldn't reciprocate, but had had no objection to my doing it, even the time when she had her period. But the "girl downstairs" had introduced me to a wonderful new sensation. She always said that it tasted funny, but that didn't stop her from doing it again - for six months.

My wife was looking at me, waiting for a reply, taking a sip of her wine. My problem was that she hadn't wanted me to come in her mouth. She had often sucked my cock, but than always - except for once - wanted to fuck. That "once," when I did come in her mouth, had been a bad scene. I replied:

"Yeah, we did. I think in her bed, and then really did in my flat."

"You could forget?"

"That we didn't in her bed."

"If you say so. And then we did, finally, that time in your car."

"Hmm! Almost forgot that."

"Forgot our first time?!"

"The others were better."

"Yes, but, that you 'almost' forgot that?"

"Sorry! The others were so much better."

"Um-hmm. You almost got out of that. And then you were transferred to the capital, and then?"

"We used to see each other regularly."

"Hmm! Yeah, but then that girl visited you, and you took a week's vacation to travel with her. God, was I mad when I learned about her. Who was she? Any others?"

She took a drink, but her expression suggested more curiosity that anger after so many years. I took a drink and replied:

"The sister of a college friend, wanted a place to stay on her trip."

"Hmm! Like that girl in New York, and they both wanted to with you?

"You did," I replied, trying to deflect her accusation."

"Hmm!" she responded, and then grinned and added:

"Yeah, but only after you quit with the girl downstairs. We were seeing each other regularly then, when you were in the capital, but any others there?"

"Not like with her, just a couple of times with a student, and then with a colleague."

"With a girl in the firm?!"

"Um-hmm."

"Did others know?"

"I hope not, but probably, a couple of girlfriends she worked with."

"If I had known that ..."

"Too late now."

"And then you went abroad. 'Abroad'? How many 'broads'?"

"Do I really have to count?"

She nodded with a grin, taking a better drink, and then I took one and refilled our glasses to stall for time. She was still grinning with an expectant expression. If she really wanted to know, I thought, trying to collect my thoughts - how many, which ones? She nodded again.

It wasn't going to change our marriage, too many years ago, decades. I took a sip, and she did, nodding again and still waiting for me to reply. As I drew a breath, she grinned, nodding again. If she wanted to hear? At least, she apparently hadn't minded that I had had some success with women. She had heard about the Austrian woman, I didn't need to tell that she had had two sons, one traveling with her husband in Europe. Had she suspected that he was also being unfaithful? Where to start? If she wanted the whole story?

"Have to count: one in Turkey, and then a Peace Corps girl in India. She was a little funny, put tissues in her bra to keep her nipples from showing and wore no panties, to avoid a panty-line showing through her slacks. Tangas didn't exist back then."

"Hmm! I guess you knew. Hope you didn't get her aroused while she still had her slacks on."

"I don't think so; I was the only Westerner in the place, dancing, and we talked, saving the rest for later."

"Hmm, till you could see what she had in her bra and didn't have in her slacks?

"A couple of times."

"Hmm! And then?"

"The Austrian, and then a girl in the US consulate. Was it she or her colleague that said she worked for the vice consul?"

"Sounds like it doesn't matter. You slept with them both?"

"One was an American, the other one wasn't."

"But both wanting a little 'vice'?"

"The American was better, telling me that she had only started sucking cocks when she was twenty-three."

"You really like that? She really liked to do that?"

"Shouldn't have mentioned it."

"And others before?"

"Just one."

"Hmm? I guess you wanted me to, all the way."

"It would have been nice."

"And then? We weren't yet engaged."

"Two other American girls. Met one, and then when she returned to the States, with her friend."

"And they sucked your cock?"

"Only the first one, but since you ask, real good."

"Oh! She did?! The one we met that time in the States?"

"Um-hmm."

"Hmm! And the other one?"

"Said my breasts were bigger that hers."

"Hmm! At least she didn't say that your cock was smaller than someone's."

"Can you?"

"Won't tell, just to keep you in suspense, since I have to listen to your goings-on."

"You asked; I could stop."

"Oh no, I'm beginning to like that you were once such a lady's man. How many more?"

I was suddenly tempted to tease her by adding one of the two American teachers we had met back then and again on that trip to the States, especially since my wife always had assumed that they were lesbians. I took a sip of wine to hide my expression, when it occurred to me that I could really shock her, suggest that we had been drunk and had wild threesome. I stuck to the truth and replied:

"One, two; one of them with an inverted nipple."

"I didn't want to hear about that. And others?"

"Even after we were engaged?"

"I did."

"It was only two more, I think," I said, taking another sip of wine.

"Having trouble counting?" my wife asked with a grin and also drank.

"I once counted that it was nineteen."

"And then, after that, the one whose letters I burned. Boy, was I mad!"

"Twenty."

"No others?"

"You suspected her, said she was as horny as a bitch in heat."

"Damn! You really slept with her too?!"

"Probably not as good as she wanted, needed."

"But you did, tried to?"

"Yeah, That was a few years ago, now several, many."

"Hmm, and now you probably can't."

"Probably couldn't get a young girl in trouble, if that's what you mean."

"Hm-hmm! But you think you could try?"

"If one would let me."

"Dirty old man! And those trips to Asia?"

"Wouldn't have done anything, if Rick hadn't given the guide a big tip at the start of the trip."

"But he did, and ...?"

"I don't know if Rick had told him what he wanted ..."

"What you wanted," she interjected.

"But it was just his idea, had only told me that he was going to tip him."

"And?"

"In our hotel, after dinner with the group, there was a couple of young, blond girls wandering around, obviously not Central Asians."

"Hmm! Russians, professionals?"

"Both of them, if you have to know."

"Thought so already. Both of them? With both of you - dirty old men?"

"Only because they were there, because the guide had found them."

"Sure, just to justify their presence. And you could?"

"Good enough for me, both times."

"Stop bragging! It only counts if it was good for them."

"They didn't say it wasn't."

"Of course not, profis - not to use another word. Cucksuckers?"

"Just to start, then with rubbers."

"And the other trips to Asia?"

"I just let Rick have his fun."

"I should believe you?"

"Yeah. Oh, I think I skipped over a couple before we got married."

"Hmm! Just as well, that you could forget them."

We changed the subject. While we were finishing the second bottle of wine, I was, however, still thinking about it, trying to count the girls who probably had wanted me to do more than I did - four or five - two, for sure. Then I recalled that I had also skipped over another night with Rick and the guide and three girls - but didn't reopen that topic.