Copyright © Daniel Choquet 2018
*
It was a game we liked to play. Started out one day when I called and told Gloria I'd be home early. She said,
"Well, I'd better tell my boyfriend not to come over."
Or a variation,
"I should have my boyfriend leave early, then."
And so on. I kind of enjoyed the game. It somehow added the feeling of mystery, of my wife's independence. And I found that I loved that feeling. It seemed like it made me love her all the more, and to want her all the time, even after years of marriage. And I could tell she enjoyed this game too. It almost seemed like the idea of having a boyfriend on the side somehow appealed to her. Though married, she was independent in many ways. After all, Gloria had lived single for many years before we got together, so independence was a natural state for her. And naturally, I enjoyed the fact that she enjoyed this game. I wanted her to like the idea of toying with the idea of a little nonmonogamy. And I suppose it was convenient that she worked at home. Wouldn't need to go anywhere.
I don't know exactly when it happened. When the game turned into something a little different for me. It had somehow become more like a fantasy. Now I began to imagine that he was real, Gloria's boyfriend. Like any fantasy, I imagined the whole thing being real, even though, if you'd asked me, I would have admitted that this thing wasn't real at all. I just liked imagining it that way.
It was uncanny. As if Gloria could tell how it was changing for me. She seemed to be coming along with me as it morphed, ever so gradually, from game to fantasy.
"So what do you and boyfriend do when he comes over?"
"Lots of things. Sometimes I need to change. But I don't make him look away. He seems to like so much seeing me in my underwear. And I suppose I kind of like it, seeing him looking ... seeing him
staring
at me, at my ... feminine charms, as they say."
I felt myself wanting to escalate this kind of talk, but I realized that it's like sex. More fun to draw things out. To take a long time. In the coming days and weeks, with any luck, this talk would get even better. Even naughtier.
"Don't you ever touch each other?"
The discussion had moved to the bedroom. We touched each other lightly and slowly as I asked that question. Eventually, my hand reached her breast.
"Yes, honey. I like it a great deal when he touches me. I think he likes them a lot. He likes to squeeze them gently and tease me by avoiding the nipples until I can't take it any longer."
"What does he do then?"
"He sucks them, honey. Do it. Suck them like he does."
I did. And my hand went to the soft flesh of her inner thighs. And then up. Up to heaven. And stroked her gently there.
"Does he like feeling you here, too, honey? Does he like feeling your female contours as much as I do?"
Honestly, I didn't know how anyone else possibly could.
"Oh yes, he does. But he likes to put his hand under the elastic and feel my ... What do they call them? My
secret folds
. Well, maybe not so secret. He always seems so amazed at how wet everything is."
An embarrassed little laugh, and then whispering,
"It makes him hard."
She could obviously feel how hard I was, as I marveled at how wet she was. I stopped the discussion and she did too. Had to save some of it for another time. Her hand wrapped around my shaft. And we just did it like that. Her hand on me, my hand on her. And we both came without words. And embraced. And slept.
- - -
The next day I was at work, when the phone rang. Gloria. I hoped we hadn't gone too far with the fantasy thing.
"Hey what's up, honey? Feeling okay after ... everything?"
"Oh yes, sweetie. I'm feeling good. Feeling very good. I'm sitting on his face, honey, and that feels very, very good."
"God, Gloria. Do you realize someone could walk right into my office? What if they saw how ... how worked up I was?"
"Oh, I'm sorry, honey. I just wanted you to know how happy your little wife was today."
"Yes, and I'm happy for you, honey. So happy, I'm probably going to have to sneak into a restroom stall and ... and deal with how happy I am."
"Boyfriend seems to be happy too. I think he likes doing this as much as I do. Isn't it great that we're all so happy today?"
"Yes, love. Very happy. But I have to find a way to get some work done. See you when I get home."
- - -
That night, we'd obviously moved it further along.
"Honey, do you suppose I should let him ... let him ... you know ... let him kind of put it in me? What if he promised to only put the head in? You know, he's so big that only the head would be such a small percentage. It would hardly count, you know?"
"Well the real question, sweetie, the real question is, would
you
like him to push it in?"
She was almost gasping. I didn't think she was going to maintain her cool much longer.
"Yes, honey. Yes. I want him to push it in."
"How much of it, honey? Just the head? Just halfway? How much?"
Is there such a thing as involuntary masturbation? All I knew was that her hand was now moving in a blur. And her reply was significantly louder than it needed to be.
"All of it! All the way! I want him to shove it in as far as it will go. As hard as he can!"
And a few seconds later, she was over the edge.
And once she had recovered, I figured I should demonstrate what it was she had indicated she'd like boyfriend to do. I assumed I was not
so big
as he, but it would be the same basic idea, after all.
- - -
Back at work the next day, as I went over it all, I discovered something that had more or less sneaked up on me. I couldn't exactly place when it had happened. This had started as a game. A fun game to keep things mysterious. Then it had moved on to fantasy. But for me, it had moved somehow beyond that. I was now entering
wish
territory. I wanted boyfriend to be real. I called her up to ask a really stupid question. I just couldn't help it. Of course she would say no.
"Gloria, is boyfriend real?"
"Of course, honey. And this afternoon, he's coming over to do what we talked about. We've waited so long. I wanted to make sure it was okay with you first. But today, we're finally going to do it! Oh, honey, I've been wanting this so much. And tonight I'll tell you all about it!"
"That's great, honey. I can barely wait to hear about it. Love you, honey."
And I ended the conversation. I didn't know what to think. I was beside myself. And for maybe an unusual reason. It wasn't that I was afraid I couldn't handle boyfriend actually fucking my wife. The truth was, what I really was afraid of, was that in spite of what Gloria had said, it might still be just a fantasy. A very fun fantasy to be sure, but I had moved beyond that. Now I really wanted boyfriend to be real. I really wanted him to be coming over to our house this very afternoon, and after lots of extended touching, and licking, and sucking, for him to take his
so big
cock and finally, really, push it into my beloved wife.
If it turned out to be just fantasy, then my twisted mind decided that it would mean that Gloria had lied to me. I had to find out. To catch her, if need be. I would think up an excuse to leave work early. I would sneak home and find out for sure. I was just like the classical suspicious husband. But with a difference.
- - -
I felt like such a jerk, doing the sneaky thing of parking a block away, practically tiptoeing toward the house. If someone saw me, they'd probably just break out laughing. I was a basket case. I opened the door as silently as possible and padded inside.
And there she was, dressed for the warm weather. Looking just as cute as ever in her maybe just a tiny bit too tight white top and her equally snug white shorts. The beautiful smile contained a question mark.
She was absolutely alone.
"Wow, honey. You're home so early. What's up?"