Changeling Ch 03

A very fateful decision.

Continued from the end of Chapter 02 - Donna and David after a night at the club:

"How

was

it, to feel another man's hands on you ... and in you?"

I lowered my eyes and said softly, almost inaudibly,

"It felt wonderful David. It felt wonderful to have another man touching me!"

We lie together not moving and not talking for a long time. At length, David said softly ... almost in a whisper,

"Would you like to have that again, Donna? Would you like to have another man touching you again?"

After several long seconds I whisper,

"Yes!"

~ ~ ~

David silently fell asleep without a further word. He left me wondering just what was going through his mind after I said "yes" to his question.

There was silence between us the next morning, as we each quietly prepare for work. I notice that David had gotten up after I fell asleep in his arms, cleaned off all of his makeup, and dressed in a pair of his old boxer briefs and an old frayed sweatshirt.

He makes me some coffee, and a toasts a bagel adding cream cheese and a tomato slice with pepper on top, one of my favorite quick breakfasts. I have to leave first for a management meeting, so I walk over to David, hug him and kiss him and say,

"Goodbye darling!" He gave me a half smile, and replied,

"Bye honey!"

I am so worried about our rather cool parting as I drive to work, and try to think of anything I might do to fix it. I conclude that David would be better this evening, and I will make him his favorite dinner, baked ham with scalloped potatoes. I will pick up a nice Chardonnay—one he likes—to go with it.

"Yeah!" I thought, "That will definitely warm things up a little!"

I don't give it another thought as I go through my day, starting with promising my boss that I was over my stomach flu, and I feel good. I am prepared and lucid at the meeting with our new prospective clients, and I see my boss beaming his approval of my performance. He hugs me after the meeting and invites me to lunch.

"Nice job with the clients today Donna, I think they are ready to sign, thanks to you!" said Robert.

"Thanks Rob! Yes, I think they will; they were asking all the right questions." I beam.

After a pause Rob says,

"Donna, how are things going with you these days ... with David I mean?"

"Um, fine! Why do you ask?"

"Oh, no reason, he seems like a nice guy, but he also seem to be a little ... soft!"

"I'm not sure what you are getting at, Rob!"

"Donna, I like you. You are an important and productive project manager for us, and I uh, like you as a person. I just want to make sure you are well taken care of ... if you know what I mean?"

"No, Mr. Johnson, I don't know what you mean!"

"C'mon Donna, it's Rob. I would just like us to become friends and David, well, he seems a little gay to me. I would like to have you up to my cabin for a weekend sometime ... to discuss the project ... a working trip ... just business. What do you think?"

"What do I think? Let me tell you something "Rob"! David Wilson is an amazing man. He has an incandescent intellect, and is a brilliant lawyer. He is charming, and he is a devoted husband. He may be a little 'soft' ... perhaps, but we have an amazing private life and I am one of the most satisfied women in this town. If you want to invite the entire team up for your "business conference," fine! Otherwise it just sounds like

monkey

business!"

"Donna relax! I didn't mean anything by it. You are too important to the firm for me to risk losing you. If you misunderstood anything, I am so sorry! I am sure that David is a terrific guy, and you are understandably proud of him."

"Okay, Rob! Let's just enjoy the lunch and then, I have some more data to crunch for our prospects!"

Rob is a horn-dog and can be a real asshole! He is always around me, trying to get close, looking down my blouse ... that sort of thing. I know he thinks David is gay, and that I don't get what I need from him, but Rob is the last one I would ever go to if I wasn't happy with David. My focus is the clients and my job; I did not work hard for two years to get my MBA for nothing! As a female in business, you have to know how to bob-and-weave a little to sidestep the creeps. You have to be better, smarter, and work harder than the guys just to keep pace with them on advancements. I have worked my cute little ass off for this firm for three years, and I am not going to let and idiot like Rob marginalize me.

Toward the end of the afternoon, I start to worry about David. I text him a simple message I hope he gets,

"I love you David, let's talk tonight!"

I never hear back from David that afternoon, and go forward with my plan to fix him a nice dinner and be

his

little French maid tonight if I need to be! I leave work a little early to get dinner for my sweet husband. It takes me about forty to forty-five minutes to make dinner, and as I wait for David, I shower, and put on a pretty dress I know he loves on me with sexy and lacy things underneath.

I wear that simple, fresh-smelling perfume he bought for me, and I am ready by six o'clock, his normal time to arrive home. At seven o'clock, there is still no David and I keep the casserole warm in the oven. At eight o'clock, I put it in the refrigerator, and blow out the candles on the dining room table that had burned down. At nine o'clock, I finish the bottle of wine I set out, and go to bed worried about my sweet husband. I fall asleep in the red satin and lace bra and panties I wore for David, and cry myself to sleep.

I am awakened by the click of the front door latch, and I know it's David. If he is still angry with me, I don't want to deal with him now, so I pretend to be asleep as he quietly enters the bedroom, strips and slides in quietly on his side, and curls up facing away. He smells like cigarettes and stale beer. I stay on my side, curled up and weeping softly.

I was a fool to let that man touch me! I mean, David let his partner kiss him and touch him, but I guess I was caught up in the excitement and arousal of the moment, and went too far. Making matters worse, I told David last night that I would want to do it again. In another week, we will be discussing his letting me be another man. I need to figure out what I want in life, and how to deal with my fantasies, and wet dreams.

I am so confused, and saddened! It takes a toll on my energy level, and I fall asleep.

I had that dream again the other night, where David is dressed as Danielle, my French maid, serving me as my lover makes love me with a large thick cock. In this iteration of the dream, the stranger also kisses and fondles Danielle. If I stripped away all of the bullshit, and was dead-bone honest with myself I would have to say that as much as I need David, and love him and would not want to lose him, I told him the truth last night.

I would want to have a handsome dance partner take me out into the garden and finger me again. And, I would love to feel his eight or ten inch cock spreading my pussy wide as David serves us drinks and whatever dressed as my maid, as I let this stranger fuck the shit out of me! There! I was finally honest with myself.

So, does that make me a slut? Yes, I guess maybe it does! I would be playing on David's fantasy to be dressed as my maid, and obliged to answer to my every whim.

I awaken again; it is one o'clock in the morning. I slide out of bed, slip into a robe and pad quietly to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. The entire downstairs is quiet and dark, except for the soft glow of the night light in the kitchen, with red and green LED lights from appliances announcing the time and power status.

I want my fantasies and I want David. But, if it comes to a decision between them, I will choose David every time. I am sitting on a stool at the kitchen counter looking out into the dark of the house over the steaming rim of my coffee cup. I see a shadow crossing the living room moving toward the kitchen, as it gets closer to the light, I see David's face. He is wearing and old beat up Yale sweatshirt over his very manly cotton sport boxer briefs.

He walks past me, and pours himself a cup of coffee. He takes a stool facing me over the counter. He looks into my eyes for a while, searching for something I guess. Whether he is searching for some answer written on my face, or the meaning of life, I don't know.

"Coffee's good, Donna!" is all he says quietly.

"Thank you David!"

"Your note said you wanted to talk, so ... talk!"

"David, I missed you terribly tonight. I even made your favorite dinner and dressed in that little light blue dress you love on me. It is in the refrigerator ... the dinner I mean, not the dress!"

He laughs.

"I have always loved you sense of humor Donna. You are so smart!"

"Thank you!"

"Okay my little love, I will start!" David says. "Your answer to my question last night was very honest, but it threw me for a loop. I met Hal for dinner at the sports bar on fifth. He is my oldest and dearest friend, as you know. We each know the other's deepest and darkest secrets. Besides you Donna, Hal is the only one I would confide in completely. That means he knows about "Danielle" for instance. But I know things about him that I will take to my grave."

"David, I—"

"Let me finish Donna. Hal does not know about your dreams. It would be wrong for me to tell him

your

secrets. But, in a round-about way, we talked about the wisdom of sharing one's wife with another man. His conclusion is that it mostly depends on the wife. It depends on her motives, and her character."

"David, can we—" I interrupt again.

"Please Donna! He didn't know that I was talking about you, I was more clever about it than that. But, I think he is right about the importance of motive. It seems that we are going to have 'the discussion' this morning. The one we were

going

to have next week. So tell me my dear wife, what are your motives?"

"David, you know that I love you, and only want us to be happy. I love that you share your inclinations with me, and had great fun helping you create Danielle (he snickers). I would be lost in this world without you, and without that amazing and beautiful little penis of yours. I love having you make love to me and as you know, I have orgasms with you nearly every time ... some nights, more than once. You are a superb lover, David. But, with that little blue piece of note paper, you got a little glimpse into my psyche."

I look at him, take a swig from my cup, and continue,

"I have been thinking tonight, and I decided that I have to be one-hundred percent honest with you honey, however brutal that might be, and however dire the outcome might be. So here it is. Yes, I would love to have a dance partner ... a stranger ... take me out into the garden at a club and kiss me, fondle me, and to fuck me if he wishes. Further, I would love to have you become Danielle, and serve me as I entertain this man or another man ... again a total stranger ... while he fucks me with a very large cock. There! That is it honey! I love you and respect you too much not to be completely honest and let you know what is in my heart!"

My heart is pounding out of chest as I await David's answer to my declaration. His answer will determine the course of the rest of my life. I know that his is thinking this all over very carefully, but it is killing me waiting for his response. At length he says,

"Donna, you have been for me the kind of wife that men dream of. You are beautiful, intelligent, warm-hearted, and you have been very patient dealing with my predilections, and my ... size. It really always

does

come down to size with women, doesn't it?"

He takes a long sip of coffee, making me wait to hear my fate. Then it comes,

"Donna, I know that some men have a fantasy about seeing another man being with their wife. I do not have that that fantasy. I was going to say, that I would not want to see my wife having sex with another man, but that leaves some logical wiggle room, doesn't it? So let's say it plainly: I would never want my wife to have sex with another man, ever. The only problem is that it leaves this thing between us: your desire to have that experience, and my reticence to allow you do that. So what do we do, honey?"

He is looking directly into my eyes, but I am stunned into silence since I know that he has more to say, and that the boom has yet to be lowered. He continues,

"It seems fair I guess, for us to help each other out with our fantasies, so I propose this. That we go to a club where no one knows us, but we go separately. You will be on your own, and may do whatever you wish with another patron. I will be there too at some point, and we can even share a couple of dances if you wish. You're having sex with another man is not what I want to happen, but I have to give you the opportunity to make your own decision."

"I propose this; I have a friend who has an upscale townhouse near here that he rarely uses. If you decide you need to go with the fantasy, instead of you meeting your 'friend' at our house, you go there. You would use an assumed name of course and drive a rental car. So anyone following you would not be able to find out your true identity, I would have Hal rent it so there is no connection to you. Your identity would be as secure as you wish."

"You would be able to do anything with this person you wished, for as long as you wished! If that is enough to knock your fantasies out of your head, then we proceed with our lives as we have in the past. It it doesn't then we need to have another discussion about our future. I do not want to conflate any of my fantasies with this; we can deal with that later."

Now it is my turn to think, and he allows me time by having us take a coffee break. We both move to the coffee pot and pour each other a cup. I take a moment to lean my head against his chest as he puts an arm around me. He feels so good to me. He has always been my port in any storm, in which I have ever found myself caught. We take our seats again on the stools.

"David, whatever happens, there should be no recriminations, and no skipping my nice dinner to commiserate with an old buddy. Umm, you can spank me if you wish, but I don't think that is a very strong fetish for either of us."

I take a sip and add,

"It is possible that I will not meet or even want to meet anyone, and you and I can dance the night away and I will go home with you that night. If I still have dreams, we will have to talk about trying it again on another night. But I want no recriminations if I decide to find someone."

I know that he feels caught in a box, but I also know that he will try to build a logical box for me, so I have to be careful. He starts in again, and I know his trap is coming,

"Donna, my dearest and sweetest wife, I must be crazy, but okay. Let's say that I allow you to decide to do this thing or not. One way or another, I would want at least a couple dances with you as just another patron before you leave with him, should that be your allowable choice. But, I would be on my own after that to do whatever I wish with whomever I might choose. One more thing, let's do this soon so we can get past it one way or the other!"

There it is! That's his box for me! I have his permission only to

decide

what I wish to do, and I would be allowed to go with another man if I choose, but I am not sure what the effect on our marriage will be, if I somehow overstep his expectations (which he has left purposefully vague). Also, if I decide to go through with it, he then gets to decide to be with someone else, and I would be taking the chance that he might find someone he prefers to me.

Stated simply, he is not letting me

be

with another man but to

decide

what to do ... and then do it. I might make a decision that leaves me with no one, or with someone who is not even remotely as wonderful to me as David is, while he finds someone else to replace me. He is saying that I might watch him walk away with another woman, and end up alone ... depending on a decision he is allowing me to make.

It seems that I would be taking a great risk, putting my life and marriage on the line, and possibly losing him to someone else. My clever husband his leaving me only one totally risk-free option, and that is to dance with him, and go home with him, and letting

him

fuck me. I decide that we should at least go to the club; I will have a better sense of him and of my risks only then. So, I tell him,

"Okay to all of it David. Now, let's break out that bottle of fifteen-year-old single-malt scotch to sweeten another cup of coffee and then go to bed so you can fuck me!"

I refresh our cups as he digs out the fancy cardboard tube containing the scotch. He slides out a clear bottle with the beautiful golden-amber liquid in it. He pours a shot for each of us in our cups, adds coffee, and we toasted our decision (my decision, really). It was the most wonderful thing I have ever tasted.

David and I make love twice that morning, and I have at least three orgasms in the process. The best part was cuddling up with him afterward. We both called our offices later to let them know that we would be in by noon and no earlier. We did rise early, just to kick around with each other in our underwear. Later, I lay out a pair of silk and lace boy shorts for him to wear to work under his cashmere suit.

~ ~ ~

The night of our 'outing' comes, and we are both readying ourselves. I wear a very short, very tight red dress with a scoop neck showing some cleavage, with the back scooping down almost to my ass. I am not wearing a bra or panties, but sheer stocking almost all the way up my legs, with four-inch red platform heels. I had my hair done this afternoon, and I absolutely look like

sex-on-a-stick

tonight.

David chooses a blue silk dress shirt with fawn-colored slacks, and a light-colored sport coat, with tasseled loafers. He chose a form-fitting pair men's athletic sport boxer briefs underneath. He will look scrumptious to any woman at the club. If I were a single woman seeing him in a club I would definitely want to take him home and fuck him. Actually, our agreement allows him to do just that, if that is my decision.

I am dressed for the possibility of meeting someone new tonight, and I am completely jittery whether I decide to find him or not. If I am trolling tonight, I certainly have the right bait! Our agreement says that I can decide to do whatever I wish tonight with no recriminations, and I am ready for that. I pull off my wedding rings and tuck them in my clutch purse; I use a little makeup to cover the tan line, should my decision go a certain way.

David drives me to the car rental agency, gives me directions to the townhouse, and I drive to the club alone. I do not see him following me, and after I am in the club, I do not see him there either. He is just trying to arrive separately, I guess. Under our agreement, if I do not score tonight, neither does David.

A handsome man walks up, and with a sexy smile, asks me to dance. I smile and accept. He is a good dancer, and seems to be an intelligent and charming man. Our first dance is a lively one and we have great fun. He is not as good a dancer as David is, but he's pretty good. Our hearts are beating as we try to cool down, waiting and talking on the dance floor for the band's next selection. The bandleader chooses to play a slow one. My partner takes me in his arms, and I am dancing close with him ... his arms feel good around me.

We talk softly as we dance. He says his name is John and he is a divorced businessman just visiting the area for another week. I am a real estate agent and my name is Sally. Over his shoulder, I see David arrive and take a seat at a table by the side. I watch as beautiful blonde approaches him, and he asks her to sit down. I am listening to John, but my eyes are on David and his new friend. She is wearing an electric blue dress extending to just below her ass, with a plunging neckline and no back to speak of.