Theme Night

Theme Night

"Awh, there he is." my new girlfriend Phee purrs as the first spurt of semen pops from the head of my husband's penis as my friend Janet jerks him off.

"Here's my come, uhn, for your girlfriends." he gasps as his body jerks with a second spurt.

"Let him go, Janet. Let him go." Our host for the evening, Maggie, stage directs, from her place beside Phee on the couch. "Just hold his balls and let him..."

"You mean like..." Janet looks across quickly at the small audience and...

"Yeah, like that." another of my new girlfriends, Alice, says in approval as Janet releases my husband's cock.

Janet keeps her other hand where it is, reaching up between his legs from behind to cradle and press his balls. Left free, his cock flexes and bobs as it spurts his semen onto Maggie's carpet to the playful 'oooh's, soft laughter, and scattered mock applause from the women watching.

"That's it, Bob." Bev, another new acquaintance, encourages him, "you want to show us."

And at this point I know he surely does. Because, you see, that's what Jeanie wants, and (who would have guessed) he needs to give me, his wife, Jeanie, what she wants.

He's standing in a wide, viewer friendly straddle a few feet in front the group of five women gathered on the couch, his pelvis rolled under and up to offer those balls for my good friend Janet. Janet seems quite pleased with her success at jerking him off as she watches his penis spasm and spurt with the rest of us.

He gasps softly "unh! unh!" in time with each ejaculatory spasm of his penis as his gaze moves erratically from one to another of the women seated on the long couch, before lifting to me where I stand just behind the couch, holding another male's very large, erect penis with one hand. When his gaze meets mine, I see it jolt his body; his hips buck and his penis rears and slings yet another full spurt of white upward to land, poetically, back on the head and smear down the shaft.

"Fuck yes, Jeanie," he gasps, "my come for your girlfriends."

Our hostess Maggie is laughing in her casually pleased way. "Well, Jeanie," she says turning towards me briefly, before looking back out to watch my husband finish making his contribution to the evening's entertainment, "that's a pretty one. Such a lively cock." Then, "Oh, there's a nice one!" she claps as a late, but generous spurt of semen leaps from the head of my husband's rhythmically flexing penis. "Did you practice this?" she asks, turning to me with a complimentary nod as if asking, over brunch, after the recipe for that wonderful Danish. "I mean, the script and all;" she makes a mockingly desperate face and "my come for your girlfriends." she imitates my husband's raspy delivery.

Although the true answer is a definite 'no', I shrug non-committally, unsure what response best suits my unexpected elevation to... well, that's still the question. I am unsure where the line is between role playing for an evening's sport and what, up until this evening, I had assumed was my marital status vis-a-vis matters sexual.

"Milk him, Janet." Sue, another of Maggie's guests urges from her seat at the end of the couch when my husband's still fully erect penis seems to have offered us it's final salvo. "Like the other two, he needs to give us all of it."

There is a moment's pause as both Janet and my husband look expectantly at me. Bob's expression, slack, half dazed, almost pleading... but for what? His orgasm fading, I wonder if he's suddenly asking himself how he 'let himself go' this far; let his arousal and the role playing get the better of him. But then I see it; even now, he just wants; no, he

needs;

to know, what does Jeanie want? And I am suddenly, gleefully, ruthlessly 'all in' for my assigned part in the 'theme night' play. If he doesn't mean this, if he thinks he can open the door this way and I won't walk through it...

"Do it." I say, and the twinge it gives me between my legs just... "Get it out of him, Janet."

The porn cliche vapidity of it is almost the point. I do want it done; want to see him flinch and jerk like the other two before him as some other woman works his now hypersensitive penis in the silly quest to make him 'give us all of it.' But it's not the come - who cares? - it's about indulging this new erotic entitlement he's handed me, seems to be all but pleading for me to exercise.

"Ah, fuck yes, Jeanie." my husband gasps, his penis spasming in post-ejaculatory obeisance at my wifely demand. "I want you to have it." he says as Janet grips the shaft, her other hand pressing between his balls at the base to force the semen up. "All of it, just the way you want." then, turning his gaze to Janet, "Milk me for Jeanie and her girlfriends."

He paraphrases again the script I gave him earlier in the evening. I told him I wanted him to 'plead' for it, be explicit. He did say 'yes' to that. But, you see, at the time I was still unsure whether that was just 'the role' talking; lines to fit the 'agreed upon' theme for the evening; or, in fact, a revelation or confession of some hitherto unsuspected sexual facet of the husband I thought I came here with.

But, 'All of it'? Is he saying what I think he's saying? Not just his come but the rest of what I've been... well, but this could be...

"Ah, isn't that sweet." Maggie sniffs, reaches back and brushes my forearm gently as my hand works her husband's porn sized penis as he stands beside me just behind the couch. "Thanks so much for sharing."

At this point you may be wondering...

It's a rather long story. But here goes.

There were five married couples, including my husband Bob and I, when we gathered that evening for Maggie's latest theme night. There was also one lesbian couple in attendance who had just moved into the condo complex where Maggie lived. Bob and I knew two of the married couples already; Maggie and her husband Matt, our hosts, but also Rick and Janet. Bob and I had met Rick and Janet through Maggie but had since struck up a separate, couples relationship with them.

The other two married couples were new to Bob and I. There was Sue and Eric Marshall who were in town visiting from Florida and Mark and Bev Stapinti who Maggie said she knew from the charity work she did. The lesbian couple, Alice and Phee, were new to everyone except Maggie and Matt.

Alice and Phee were late invitees. Maggie conceded that including them in our evening was a bit of a switch given the very clear instructions she had sent around about what each couple was expected to contribute towards the entertainment for the evening. Alice and Phee obviously weren't in a position to contribute. In light of that, Maggie had emailed around with a second expanded, final list of attendees noting this to make sure the rest of us were okay with including them.

I didn't run that by Bob because I wasn't going to give him another chance to argue and try to back out on me. Not that he had tried that hard, which, to be honest, I found a little strange... at the time.

When I first showed him the invitation he just laughed and said "Sure, let's go." as if it were all a big joke and probably thinking I'd never take him up on it.

Earlier in our marriage that might have been a safe bet. But recent events had led the two of us to consider some adjustments to the marital ground rules; some rather vague talk about a more 'open' relationship. And, although Bob didn't know it, the particular theme Maggie suggested for her party was one I, at least, was very much open to.

So, I called his bluff; told him "Fine. I'll tell Maggie we're in."

Now, the theme for the evening did have some real appeal for me, being similar to some of the porn I liked. It fed into some of my favorite fantasies about having several men all eagerly 'auditioning' to serve me sexually. I watch them display themselves and jerk off for me and select those I think perform best, usually two or three, and then those lucky guys tenderly (or not so tenderly) ravish me with tongues, fingers, and cocks in every orifice until I'm sated. I can play this out in my head in a thousand ways, masturbating and often don't get past the initial 'audition' part before I come. But it's about my power to select the ones I want, the thought of what I'm choosing them for, the duties they must perform 'later' and their eagerness to be chosen and serve me that way; watching a guy jerk off a lovely penis with that in my head; it's all a piece, the audition but also the 'later' part.

Not that I had ever let Bob in on that sort of stuff. Although I always thought of myself as uninhibited in bed, that didn't extend to sharing my sexual fantasies if they went beyond some form of monogamous sex. Around that stuff it was 'don't ask, don't tell' because, after all, what would be the point of putting that stuff out there? We got married young, had kids, jobs, responsibilities; it wasn't as if that stuff was an option. At least I never thought it was. So why put myself out there, confess... whatever you want to call it, and have him thinking whatever he's thinking and...

Besides, it's not like our sex life didn't fulfill any of my needs. Bob is a good lover, at least when... you know the story, like I said; jobs, kids, dinners with the in-laws... Anyone who's been married can probably do that math. Still, when the occasion did arise, I wouldn't kick Bob out of bed for eating crackers, as the saying goes. I haven't been with that many guys, but especially in one area, I have never, no, let's be clear, I can't even

imagine

, some other guy measuring up. My man craves and eats pussy like it's a religious experience; he makes it one for me at least. Now maybe this should have been a clue to me about some other possible tendencies, but the way he'll look up at me when I straddle his face, his hands gripping my ass, spreading it and... fuck. That could be like a whole novel in and of itself, being worshiped that way. Sorry to gloat, but it feels that way when he's... yeah, a whole other novel.

But it's not this one. Because as nice as that is, and as much as I sometimes even fantasize about it when I masturbate, there are those other, far more potent fantasies that Bob, through no fault of his own, simply can't answer by himself. So, like I said; what's the point in putting my kink about multiple men out there. Besides, even though Maggie's invitation did mirror some of the audition elements of my fantasy repertoire, my guess was that it might turn out to feel a bit silly and awkward in reality. So, I wasn't really pushing for us to go at first; just trying to faze Bob and make him be the one to back down.

Instead, he just looked at me kind of sideways like he was wondering 'would she really?' But then he snorted and shook his head like 'No, you wouldn't' and just shrugged like he was daring me.

Well, fuck that. I pulled out my phone and rang Maggie back with Bob standing right there, thinking for sure any second he's gonna grab at the phone and make me hang up. But he just stands there with his eyebrows raised skeptically at me so, what the fuck; I leave Maggie an enthusiastic voice mail message about how we were all in, hung up and then,

"I guess we're going." I said.

I was kind of looking forward to seeing him try to squirm his way out of this; make the big man call Maggie back himself and explain why were weren't coming after all.

But instead, he just gives me this funny look, like maybe I'm still gonna be the one who blinks.

"You're serious." he said. Not quite a question.

"You said you wanted a more open relationship." I reminded him.

"Yes, but I had been thinking more like you and I each being able to see different people, so long as nothing got serious." he said, because, of course, that fit with his plans to continue screwing his secretary with my (only recently granted) permission.

"Well, this will certainly let me see some different people, won't it? And it's pretty clear from the set up that nothing serious is going to happen, romantically at least."

"Ha, very funny." he scoffed. "'See' other people." he makes those annoying air quotes around 'see', like he's making fun of it. But there was something in the way he was looking at me, like maybe... I don't know. "This is, I mean you're serious you want to do this, want us to?" he asks.

"Yeah." I double down instinctively, because lately, that's just been the dynamic between us. "Course I do."

But his reaction isn't what I was expecting; as if maybe he wasn't trying to argue or be sarcastic but was really asking; did I want to do this.

"Of course you do?" he raises an eyebrow at me. "I mean, Jeanie, this isn't just about getting back at me for...?" he starts.

"No." I cut that off, thinking he's going to bail by claiming I'm not serious and just doing this for some kind of sexual get even. Well, maybe there's a bit of that. So what? But, "I love the idea of this; a bunch of guys all..." I wave a hand unable to come up with suitably pithy or sarcastic term for it, "and you up there with them." I said, exaggerating my enthusiasm to goad him, because really, like I said, despite the visceral appeal of solo male jerk off videos and other, somewhat similar fare, I'm still thinking actually doing this could get awkward.

It's one thing to watch that stuff on screen and imagine these guys, one after another, are all auditioning for me, for the privilege of being one of the three (sometimes more) cocks I'm going to have service me later. It's the fantasy about using them later that gets jumbled up with the thought of making them show me how bad they want the privilege. It just gets me off.

But that's easy, right? When I'm sitting there by myself feeling horny, not in a room full of other people all watching me (that's how I'm afraid it will feel) watching some guy jerk off. Besides, it's really more about the 'later'; putting them to use or letting them at me and they just... fuck. You see, I can't even tell you about this shit without... So anyway, having a bunch of guys all up there and, yeah, even having Bob up there as just one more; sweet idea. But, I mean, what do I do; just sit there and stare? And with all these other people around? So, I'm really tempted by the idea, but pretty sure the reality could be awkward if not downright cringe-worthy. But I'm still not really expecting this is going to happen so I just run with it to goad him.

Again, he doesn't react quite the way I expected.

"A bunch of us, hunh? You really want to see that. And you want me up there. I mean..." he clears his throat in a funny way and I'm guessing he's just nervous now, actually picturing this and realizing how awkward it might get for him if he doesn't cave and just admit he won't do it. But "Look," he says spreading his hands, "you've never said anything about this kind of..."

"Well, why would I?" I cut this off. "It's not like opportunities like this come up a lot. If you're nervous about this, just say so. You can call Maggie and explain you got a bit ahead of yourself. But I'm fine going, so stop trying to make it about me."

"Well," he snorts in his dismissive way, "it

is

about you; you telling me you think you'd 'love' the idea." he does the annoying air quotes thing with his fingers again, "So, I'm just curious if that's really..."

"So, are you backing out on this then?" I interrupt. "Trying to convince me

I

don't really want to do it instead of just saying you're chicken shit? You could have said that before I told Maggie we were in. Are you..."

"No Jeanie. I said we'd go if that's what you want. I'm really just asking. Seems pretty one sided in terms of..." he shrugs, laughs, "whatever. But you're thinking, I mean, you're telling me that would be a turn on for you?"

"A turn on," I echo trying to read him. Is he making fun of the idea or of me because I might be into this, even if only in theory? You see, this is why I say 'what's the point' when it comes to sharing this sort of fantasy shit. So, "Well, who knows? Never done this before, so maybe I'm just curious. But as far as being turned on, I'm not sure that's an issue on my end. That's more yours to worry about. You read the invitation, right?"

"Yeah, like I said, it's pretty one sided that way." he nods. "But you'd like that?" he persists. "The one sidedness of it?"

If he's looking for some sort of erotic confession, he's not going to get one. My particular sexual 'turn ons' are not up for discussion here. And even if this 'theme' does resonate with some of them, it's not like I thought this stuff up. It's all Maggie's idea and who the fuck knows what it will actually be like to be there and... No, not going there.

"Sort of like you screwing Phyllis for six months while I'm at home playing good wifey." I snark. "You mean one sided like that?"

"Jesus Jeanie, why do you do that?" he asks. "But fine. If you want to tell me that's all this is. But I was being serious. If you're..." he breaks off, shakes his head at my expression.

"What?" I challenge.

"Never mind." he slaps the air in irritation. "We can do it. Or I guess I should say, I'll do it. But I wish you'd just..." he waves the rest off.

I admit I've been playing way more upset about the 'Phyllis' thing than I actually am. For some reason the jealousy I was expecting just didn't bite. I knew it was going on, but honestly, it seemed to rekindle his interest in sex with me too and, as I said earlier, when it does happen... hoooyah! Besides, after I found out, I had a couple extramarital rounds myself with Gordon from my yoga group that I never told Bob about. But it still doesn't feel to me like we're quite even. So yeah, I'm gonna play the guilt card while I got it.

But there was something about the way he was asking -- did I

really

want to do this; would it be a turn on for me -- that was still throwing me. And that bit about would it turn me on to have him 'up there'... is that a real question? Cause, shit, I may be partial to the real estate, but even after 15 years of marriage my Bob has got plenty of curb appeal. I see the way other women look at him. And, yeah, okay if we were actually gonna do this, I'm pretty sure my entry would be 'best in show'.

"Look," I say, feeling a little shitty, "I agreed to have a more open relationship. I didn't agree to let you set the bounds on that by yourself. So, this is a little one sided; guess it's my turn, Bob. Not gonna kill you. You want open, so be open. Or do we need to renegotiate?"

"I'm not trying to re-neg..." he stops himself, holds up both hands. "I said, fine. Your turn, as you say. If this is really what you want."

And again, that tone with the 'really' throws me off. But I can't read it and just now for the first time I start thinking he might actually do this and it gets me picturing things and... Fuck, I want this nailed down. So, I just take 'yes' for an answer and drop it.

And I mean drop it; not just right then either, but for the next two weeks before the party... not a word. It feels like the elephant in the living room between us, like we should be 'discussing' how this is actually going to go. But something in me says 'don't go there', because the closer to the date we get, the more anxious I start to feel that something is going to come up that gives him some excuse not to do it. And yeah, okay, the more it feels like it might really happen, the more the thought of it stirs that anxious arousal of anticipating but not really knowing...

Besides, I rationalize, what's there to discuss? Maggie's directions are pretty simple and straight forward. He's the one that's gonna have to 'work out' the details here, not me.

Once or twice he does kind of hint around the edges with things like "Friday already, so just another week till theme night."