In Need Of Something Else

The candles on the birthday cake glowed in Melinda eyes. But it wasn't the light that here yes noticed, nor the circle of friends standing around her in the dark room. It was the number after "Happy" and before "Birthday" that caught her attention: twenty-nine.

It was actually "29th" to be precise, but the fact remained that it was simply one more year until thirty.

The entire year had been a difficult one. It wasn't so much the number thirty that bothered her as it was the sense of sameness in her life. She was in a rut, and had been for some time. It was the rut of her career that troubled her, nor the rut of living in the same house for seven years. It was the rut of her sex life that was gnawing at her happiness.

She had married while still in college. Beautiful all her adult life, Melinda never lacked suitors, or at least men attempting to seduce her. She managed to weed through the jerks, the losers, and the assholes to find her beloved Alan. They had dated for a year before their passions overcame them and they had sex the first time. Melinda had hoped to wait for marriage, though most men she encountered assumed that because of her looks she was sexually adventurous and promiscuous. She hadn't been, and nearly drove poor Alan to madness in deflecting his constant advances. On their first anniversary, she decided she would finally concede to making love. She dressed in sexy silk panties, a short skirt, a tight blouse, and, wore Alan's favorite perfume. The one she wouldn't wear anymore because it made him so horny. She had it all planned, and though nervous, excitedly awaited for the moment to come.

But, before she could tell Alan of her feelings, he had presented her with an engagement ring. After shouting "Yes!" and "I love you!", Melinda stepped back from her betrothed, and began unbuttoning her blouse. Alan had probably hoped his proposal would lead to sex, but his face was lit up with surprise at the sight of the lacy satin bra that came into view. Melinda had never worn such suggestive undergarments. He knew something was up.

When she pulled down her skirt, revealing a matching set of silky red panties, Alan knew she had been planning to seduce him. The clothes, the underwear… the perfume! Alan leapt up to her and ripped off the rest of her clothes. His excitement made him clumsy, and they two of them laughed and kissed as their joined bodies for the first time.

Sex really hadn't changed much after that…

Melinda blew out the candles on the cake and hugged her husband. Anne, her best friend, was beaming at her, and opened her arms for a hug herself. Just three days earlier, they had celebrated Anne's birthday. She was much more for showmanship than Melinda, and threw a huge party at a rented hall in celebration of herself. Her husband had actually rented the hall, but Melinda knew it was done at Anne's prodding. The party had been a great success, but it was that night that her unrest began. It was the night that she saw him.

Michael had been a friend of Anne's for years, long before Melinda knew her. She had never met him before, but had heard his name. Anne had told her he was good-looking, but came nowhere close to describing just how gorgeous he truly was. To make matters worse, Alan wasn't there. He was working. She had no man she could run to, no man to remind herself that she was taken. Michael had seemed instantly interested in her. She knew he saw the wedding ring on her finger, but with no husband at her side, he flirted unabatedly.

Until he had asked her to dance, Melinda downplayed her quickened heart-beat as a simple attraction. But when she finally agreed to let him put his arms around her on the dance floor, Melinda's new thoughts were not so naive. Michael moved with a certain grace, a certain intensity. His hands moved over hips subtlety, but the feelings they generated were intense. He wasn't ashamed of brushing against her every few moments, and Melinda could feel his hardened bulge when he did.

She expected him to proposition her at any moment. With her head swimming, she wasn't sure how she would react. But before the moment could happen, Alan showed up. He had gotten off work earlier than expected, and was now standing at the edge of dance floor, watching her dance with Michael.

Alan was a trusting husband, and he shook Michael's hand when the song ended. She could see his message in his face. I'm glad you like her, but she's mine. Stay away. Michael was just as cordial, and his face bore a message as well. She may be yours, but she wants me…

Melinda felt ashamed. She avoided Michael the rest of the evening, which seemed to suit Alan just fine. She joined Anne at her table, and started to relax as the birthday girl laughed and made a drunken fool of herself. She did notice another man looking at her. A man who was nearly as attractive as Michael. But he was shy… distant… Melinda assumed he would have been bolder without Alan at her side.

Three days after her own birthday, Melinda called Anne for lunch. For three days, she had agonized over her age, over her status and life, and over her wants. She was twenty-nine, and she had been with only one man. Just a few days thinking about Michael had been enough to arouse curiosities in her. What else could she experience? What else would it be like? But she still loved Alan. She wanted to be with him, but simply to add to her life experience. Maybe… she thought… maybe I can do both.

Melinda didn't confess her thoughts to Anne right away. They made idle chit-chat at first before Melinda started to turn the conversation to her needs.

"Anne? How many guys have you been with?

"For sex?"

"Yeah."

"Twelve." She said proudly. Evidently she felt the number was high enough to prove her attractiveness, but not so high that she'd be deemed a slut.

"Were they all pretty much the same?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, during sex, were they all pretty much the same performance-wise?"

"Oh god, no!"

Melinda wasn't thrilled with that answer.

"Were any of them bad?"

"More than half." She said. "Most guys just want to fuck you, and pay no attention to your own needs."

"And the guys who do pay attention?"

"Ahh… they're the jewels, sweetie. Absolute jewels. Assuming they have big dicks."

Melinda had not even thought too much about penis-size.

"How big is big?" she asked.

"I like at least eight inches. How about you?"

"Um…"

"Oh yeah, you've only been with Alan, I forgot." She twitched wanting to ask a follow-up question. She debated over whether it was proper, but decided that it was ok – they were best friends. "How much has Alan got?'

"About five and three-quarters."

"That's not bad!" But her face was obviously not impressed. Melinda had always thought it was fine, but her mind was rapidly imagining an eight-inch cock. And more…

"Anne… I think I'm missing something. Something from my life…"

Anne smiled. "You want to fuck somebody else!"

"Anne!"

"It's alright, sweetie, I've been thinking you needed that for a long time."

"You have?"

"You're so beautiful, Melinda, but you've only been with one guy. I'm not trying to knock Alan, but you've been given a gift, and you're not making full opportunity of it."

"I love Alan."

"I know you do, that's not the point. Most people have sex with a number of other people before they get married, at least nowadays. They get a chance to learn what they like, what they want, and who can give it to them. I know you've always been a bit traditional, but it's gotta be hard knowing you could seduce any man you wanted but being held back by that ring."

It hadn't been, until now.

"Let me tell you something, " Anne continued. "These feelings are not going to go away. You're still young, still beautiful, and men want you. Now that you've started thinking about it, it's only going to get worse. Unless…"

"Unless?"

"You fuck somebody. Unless you experiment."

"But I can't do that!"

"Yes you can. And here's how you do it… you get one of your friends, say me, who happens to know a lot of men. That friend, knowing your history and what you probably would like to experience, selects one of her known men for you. I, I mean she, contacts the man and tells him that at an appointed time and appointed place, all has to do is show up and he'll have sex with a beautiful woman. In return, he simply has to make sure she has a wonderful time. No quickies!"

Melinda looked at her friend, stunned.

Anne was determined. "The beauty of this plan is that neither one of you knows the other one. Neither one of you knows where you live, and after you fuck you say your goodbyes. It's sex, no strings attached. Now you could go out and fuck a male friend or a coworker, but that's only going to complicate things. Let me help you, and you'll get what you want without anything getting weird."

Melinda smiled. Here she was, about to ask for Michael's phone number because she thought she was going to start an affair. But Melinda had a better plan. She could fuck Michael once, and then never see him again.

How perfect.

"I have just the guy in mind for you, sweetie."

Melinda was sure she did.

"I think you saw him at my party last week. A rather hot young man…"

"Yes, I did…"

"..named Paul."

"Paul?" Melinda was confused.

"Paul was at our table. He was the quiet one at the end. Very sexy, wasn't he?"

He was an attractive man, but not the one she intended.

"What about Michael?"

"Michael? Oh yes, he would be perfect, too." She nodded. "But he want back to Chicago."

"Oh…" Melinda's heart sank.

"But don't worry, Paul is a complete stud. I spoke with him after the party, asking him if there were any girls there he liked. He mentioned you, and how he'd totally love to fuck you. And…" she said, eyes widening. "he has a ten inch cock."

Melinda smiled. "How do you know that?" Anne simply smiled back.

"He was very cute, very attractive." Melinda said, starting to warm up to the idea. She had wanted Michael, but the thought of a ten inch cock was piquing her curiosity.

"Then let me make a phone call."

Melinda thought about it. About Alan, about Michael. About what she wanted. She simply wanted to know what else there was to feel, what else there was to experience. Wouldn't Paul be able to give her that just as much as Michael?

"Ok." She said. "Make the call."

Melinda looked at herself in the mirror. She analyzed every part if her image, trying to determine if she was "done." She hadn't paid this much attention to her appearance with Alan in years. She knew what he liked, and would prepare her makeup in accordance with those likes. She would wear the bras that he liked, the panties, and the dresses. She knew that miniskirts inspired him to take her from behind and that she got longer foreplay by wearing shiny underwear.

There was no challenge in it. No excitement. God, she loved Alan, but she hadn't had the trembling in her hands since before they were married. And now, she questioned everything. Did Paul like lace or satin bras? did he prefer her to go pantiless? Did he like skirts, dresses, or jeans? All she knew is that he wanted to fuck her. But she wanted to see awe on his face. She wanted to see knee-weakening lust so that she could experience his greatest sexual energy.

She thought about the night of the party, wondering if she go with a strategy that highlighted the features she displayed that night. Cleavage was always in, so she undid a button her blouse. What the hell, she thought, and undid a second. She felt a rush of excitement between her legs as she decided to undo a third. A hint of bra was now visible, and she smiled at the image in the mirror. He would like her breasts, of that she was certain.

But what about the rest? Jeans or a skirt? Her legs had not really been on display at the party with the length of her gown, but she reasoned a little thigh couldn't hurt. She ran back to the closet. Now, to determine which skirt was the sexiest, without being slutty.

A pang of guilt hit her as she flipped through the skirts Alan had bought for her. He loved to dress her in the style of clothes that aroused him. Some of the skirts were too short for public wearing -- at least, that she would be comfortable wearing in public. Maybe one of those would be just right.

She couldn't explain it, but the higher the guilt factor the higher the arousal factor became. She settled on the shiny black skirt Alan had purchased for her about six months before. When standing, it barely covered her pussy. When sitting, she was on display if not careful.

Now, about nylons... Alan loved thigh-highs, and a pair of black ones would tone-down the skin without damaging the sexiness of the outfit. She slid them on.

Melinda went back to the mirror, gazing at her nearly finished work. She looked good, but not all that different. This was really nothing unusual from what Alan had liked to dress her in. The skirt was something she wouldn't have normally worn in public, but still...

Melinda unbuttoned her blouse. She had decided on her final touch. She slipped the bra off her body and returned it to the drawer. She reached for her underwear drawer and pulled out a lacy, red bra much like the one she wore the night Alan proposed. She knew the lace was too much to actually wear under a bra – it's patterns would be quite visible, but she pulled the blouse back on anyway. Again, she wasn't really going out in public. She found the matching red panties and declared herself 'done.' Well, about to be 'done,' anyway. Alan would have killed to see her out in public with this look. But instead it would be Paul.

An excitement filled Melinda's body as she drove to the motel that she didn't think she had ever before experienced. She felt adventurous, alive, and even a little naughty. She washed away the guilt of her coming actions by convincing herself that expanding her experiences would lead to better sexual encounters with Alan. He, too, would reap the rewards, but he'd never learn of the source of Melinda's new found abilities. A ten inch cock… Melinda kept trying to picture it in her mind. No matter what Alan tried with her, he could never give her a cock that big. Not a real, man-shaft cock anyway. If for no other reason, she was going to fuck Paul for that.

Melinda arrived the motel first. Anne had made the reservation, and even gotten a room number. That was important, so both Melinda and Paul could get to their destination. Melinda felt as if she were flying as she drove to her room, got out of the car, and sauntered to the door. Her coat had concealed her lacy, visible bra from the clerk, but her short skirt made her now feel almost like a prostitute. If Paul thought so, that would be find with her.

Melinda checked out the room. It was pretty standard. A king-size bed, a small bathroom with a shower. She took the sight of it in. She wanted to remember the details of her first non-Alan fuck. She took off her coat, then realized she had forgotten the champagne she had brought. She went back outside, not caring that anyone nearby could see her sexy state of dress. She was glad she brought something alcoholic. Her hands were trembling as she poured the glass. She wanted to be relaxed for the experience, and not ruin it by being too tense. She downed a second glass before she heard a knock at the door. She stood up, straightened her skirt and blouse, and opened the door. Paul was waiting.

"Hi." Melinda greeted him as he entered the room.

"Hi." he said nervously. She wondered if he was concerned about the whole setup being called off, that maybe he thought he'd get here only to have her change her mind. She hoped her outfit would indicate she was serious -- she planned to fuck him.

His eyes looked her up and down, but he didn't' say anything. She noticed his hands trembled as he took off his coat and put it on a hanger. she had expected to be complimented on her appearance, but he didn't do so. His eyes did glance her up and down, but he only smiled nervously as he finished hanging up his coat. Then he simply stood, clearly waiting for her to make the next move.

Unfortunately, she wasn't prepared for that. She had figured Paul was a fairly aggressive sexual predator, and that upon arriving he would be extremely seductive and charming. She had expected to be attacked. She poured him a glass of champagne, and noticed her own hands were now steady as she handed him the drink. He took it, and thanked her.

"Did you find the place ok?" Melinda asked.

"Yeah, not problems." He sipped lightly at his beverage.

"You look nice." she said.

"Thanks. So-so do you."

"Thanks." she had expected "hot", "sexy", or even "incredible." the bulge in his pants indicated he was sexually aroused, but his actions were like that of a virgin boy, unsure of how to initiate the act of.

"Why don't we sit down?" she suggested after an awkward silence.

"Sure. Sure..."

They sat on the bed. Melinda intentionally left her legs apart as she adjusted herself. Paul, sitting at the end of the bed saw her panties. She was sure he did.

She was beginning to understand his single status. He was good-looking, but possibly lacked confidence. His eyes gave away more intent than his actions. They had at the party, and they were now as they locked on her region between her legs.

"So, Anne says you're a engineer."

"Yeah. What do you do?"

"Well, I had planned to go to law school, before I met my husband. But he didn't want me away from home so much. So I kind of fell into an HR job."

Paul seemed to become even more uneasy at the mention of her husband.

"Have you ever been married?" Melinda asked him.

"Um, no..." his answer didn't surprise her.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" she asked.

"No, no." again, she wasn't surprised at this point. "If I did, I wouldn't be here. I wouldn't, I mean, I..."

"Wouldn't cheat?"

Paul caught his breath. "Um, I don't know."

"Do you think I'm a bad person for being here with you? Honestly..."

"I'm glad you're here with me."

"That's not what I asked."

He was calculating a response. Offend her, and he might not get to fuck her. Lie, and that might offend. her. Melinda decided to ease his suffering.

"It's ok, whatever you say.."

"I just know... I just know it would devastate me if you were my wife and you were here with someone else."

Melinda smiled. "Thank you, Paul. That's sweet. I really hope you don't think I'm a bad person. I love my husband very much, it's just that he's the only man I've ever been with. I have wanted to know for some time what it would be like to be with someone else. And I'm not getting any younger..."

"Oh, you are still beautiful!"

Melinda laughed a little. "Thank you again, Paul, but I'm not THAT old! I just meant that that this sort of exploration is better to do while your young, so you can find yourself."

"I'm sorry! That's not what I meant. I mean, you don't look old, I just wanted to make sure you didn't think you did. I think you're going to be beautiful a long time. Forever..."

"Why don't you come up here?" she asked, patting the area of bed beside her. Paul moved as instructed. Melinda slipped her hand holding her glass of champagne inside his. Together, they sipped from their glassed.

Melinda leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek. She could feel his body tense.

"Don't be so nervous." she said softly She kept her face close to his. Still he didn't act. She was smiling, but inside her frustration was growing.

"How do you think I'm beautiful?" she asked.

"What do you mean?"

"What about me do you think is beautiful?"

"Well, your face."

Melinda took his hand and pressed it against her face. She looked at his as she glided it over her lips and cheeks.