First Tell Me Yours

Copyright © Daniel Choquet 2019

One

"First you have to tell me yours."

"But I asked you first."

"Sorry, that's my deal."

There was no getting around it. That look was familiar. Sybil was not going to budge on this.

"Well, let's see... Okay, I guess I've imagined you and another woman."

"Oh, come now. Is that the best you've got. Typical male fantasy."

"But I'm telling you the truth."

In spite of the feigned disdain, I thought I read something in her sparkling brown eyes. She was intrigued.

"Okay, who is she?"

This was getting dangerous. If I told her truthfully, I could be getting into tricky territory. It could get messy in a hurry.

"I'm waiting."

"Okay, maybe Miriam."

I was getting a silent stare. A mouth open stare. This could not be good.

"Well, you asked. You shouldn't open the door if you don't want to see what's inside."

The stare was turning smirkish. A good sign.

"Well, at least it's realistic. I don't know her that well, but sometimes the way she looks at me ... So in this fantasy ... what does she do with me?"

"Hey, I've told you my fantasy. It's your turn now."

Sybil was squirming a little, and playing with her glossy dark brown hair. Twisting it in her fingers in that endearing way. I couldn't believe she could be turned on by my standard male fantasy.

"What does she do with me?"

"Well, what do you think? I guess she starts by kissing you, one hand playing with your hair. Then the kiss gets more serious and her hand explores a little."

Her breathing was obviously quickening. I really did want to hear her fantasy, but this was getting fun. Getting hot. I wondered where I could take her with my description. And the thing was, even though I was basically making it up on the spot, seeing her getting turned on was making it all affect me. I guess my truthful fantasy was simply seeing my wife turned on, period. And it seemed like that was the road we were on now. But I wanted to go to the next step.

"Okay, your turn."

"Are you sure you're ready to hear it? You might find it kind of ... disturbing."

"No, I promise. I think just the idea of it being your fantasy is all I need."

"Okay. My fantasy is a threesome."

"Well, that was easy. Practically my fantasy, in a way. With the addition of me participating. I love it."

"Sorry. Not that kind of threesome."

"You mean another guy?"

"I knew you weren't going to like it. But don't forget: This was all your idea."

Then I realized something that made me slightly ill. It could be that I was wrong about more than I thought. What if she didn't even imagine me being part of it at all? My pride was starting to get in the way, but I had to ask.

"So you, another guy, and who is the third?"

"Oh honey. You poor thing. You, of course! The idea of you with another guy turns me on like crazy."

"Me with another guy? What the hell?"

"Well, why not? Honestly, I can't believe you men. You think it's so hot, the idea of your wife and another woman, but the minute the idea of you doing the equivalent thing comes up ..."

"I'm not having anyone sticking his thing up my ass."

"Okay, that's cool. How about if he sticks it up mine?"

That was startling. No immediate rejoinder to that. She was waiting for an answer, so I had to think about it.

"You think you'd really like that?"

"Maybe I should tell you some more stories about before we met. But that wasn't really what my fantasy was about. Okay, so you don't have to touch him. But maybe you could help some other way."

"Some other way?"

"Yeah. Like he's a real friend and you want to give him a really nice present."

"What sort of present?"

"Me, of course! Remember, this is my fantasy. Nobody promised that you were going to like it."

This was getting crazy. But the craziest part was that I didn't want to stop hearing about it.

"Okay, so in this fantasy: You said I'd be helping in some way. What's that about?"

"You could unwrap his present for him. I know, he'd be perfectly capable of doing that himself, but I like the idea of you doing it. I'd be wearing some sort of sexy nightgown and you'd stand behind me and lift the hem. Then you'd tell him to go ahead and touch me there. He'd be reluctant so you'd help him"

"There you go again with the help thing. I really can't imagine what you mean this time."

"You could take his hand in yours and bring it up against my pussy. I think that's all the help he'd need and then he'd start doing it himself. Feeling. Squeezing."

"I thought I didn't have to touch him."

"Oh really, Jake. Guys shake hands all the time. You're only touching his fucking hand! You aren't playing with his cock or anything. Although come to think of it ... that would be so unbelievably hot."

I tried to imagine the scene. And I wondered if I'd ever feel like doing something like that. And what I couldn't let go of was the knowledge, now revealed so vividly, that this was Sybil's fantasy. That this was the idea that turned her on. Maybe what she masturbated to. And the truth was that really, my biggest fantasy of all was simply the idea of my wife experiencing her own greatest turn-on. And maybe I had an idea now of just what that might look like.

Anyway, we were just sharing our fantasies, after all. Nobody was talking about doing anything.

Two

As the workday neared its end, my phone buzzed. Sybil. As a freelance writer, Sybil, unlike her husband, didn't have to go to work, or rather, she did, but that just meant her home office. I didn't really mind my traditional drive to work, though. Being cooped up in the house I'd just go stir crazy. But for Sybil, it worked.

"Hey, sweetie, what's up?"

"Just wondering if you had an idea of when you might be getting home. No problem if you need longer. Just some idea."

"Probably no later than 7. I was planning something fairly quick for tonight."

It was my night to cook, so perhaps Sybil was just getting hungry.

"Oh that's fine. But food wasn't really why I was asking."

"Okay, so what then?"

"Sorry. Surprise. You'll find out when you get home."

Her teasing was obviously calculated to be intriguing, and it was working.

"Well, I can't wait. But I won't bore you with my guessing. I know it wouldn't work anyway."

"You have that right. Anyway, see you 7-ish."

I was lucky to have a scenic drive home, and traffic problems were rare, but it was late winter, still too dark to really take it all in. Besides, even if it'd been daylight, I probably wouldn't have been paying that much attention to the scenery on this occasion. Trying to guess what the surprise was. Almost certainly something she'd bought for the house. Sybil, like a lot of women, really liked to shop. And although I never wanted to challenge her purchases, I did have the feeling that she felt obligated to buy at least something every time. So the question now was, what would she have thought we needed this time? It was only a 12 mile drive with few stop signs, so I hadn't ended my speculations by the time I pulled into the driveway. I came in the side door and into the kitchen.

Sybil looked particularly stunning. Just a simple brown skirt, but it came pretty high up. And a matching sweater, through which I thought I detected some evidence -- Was it excitement? Maybe I was imagining things.

"Okay, so what's the big surprise?"

She used her eyes to direct mine to the person sitting on the couch over in the living room area.

Miriam.

I wanted to be careful not to make any assumptions, walking over to where she sat, taking her hand.

"Well, to what do we owe this pleasure?"

Maybe that was pouring it on a bit thick, but I was a little nervous.

"Sybil told me, Jake."

Well, that was direct. All attempts to act cool were failing. What could I say now? The woman was wearing a white cotton blouse and jeans that were almost what you'd call tight, making it hard for me to be particularly coherent.

"Well, that's a ... surprise. And your visit tonight ..."

"Yes, Jake. I think the easiest thing for all of us is just to be honest. So I'll tell you. I've felt a certain -- desire, I guess that's the right word -- toward your wife almost since I met her. So let me just say it: I want to be sexual with Sybil. And your sharing of your fantasy seems to have opened the door for me. She seems to be into the idea, if I'm reading her signals right. But I have what some people would call a cruel streak, although I don't see it that way at all. I see it as my desire to give people an enigmatic sort of pleasure when I'm taking my own. What I'm trying to say is ... I want you to watch."

My mouth was suddenly surprisingly dry.

"What am I going to watch?"

"Oh, that would spoil it. You can just watch, Jake."

Dinner was ... interesting. I think we all tried to keep the discussion on other subjects. Formal dining room, rather than in front of the TV. I had to try not to stare at our guest as she got up to come to the table. The jeans didn't hide the curves. In fact you could almost see some charming ... detail. I sat at the end, Sybil on my right, Miriam on my left, exceedingly attractive, although I realized it wasn't the physical attributes so much, nice as those were, as the sparkle in those lovely green eyes. I have no idea how it feels for a woman who knows something sexual with another woman is in store, but I could imagine. And even though I'd introduced this as my fantasy, studying my wife's every glance toward our guest, I did believe that I was reading excitement, probably arousal. No, definitely. An unwelcome thought flashed through my head. Might there be a demand for some sort of fantasy fulfillment reciprocity down the road? Maybe it was better not to spoil the evening with groundless speculation. Much better just to enjoy the anticipation of the fun that was almost certainly in store.

And then it looked like we weren't going to have to wait long at all. Miriam got up, walked around behind me and stopped behind Sybil's chair. One hand on her shoulder. The other moved, so briefly and lightly, through her dark brown hair, and as Miriam leaned forward, Sybil turned her head to meet her. The first kiss happened almost immediately then. The touch of Miriam's fingers was so light, but seemed electrified. Down over the shoulders, then lightly down almost to the elbows, and on the way up lightly over the breasts, the escalation punctuated with another kiss, this one slightly more intense. Then my wife spoke.

"Touch me."

This was answered with a somewhat more direct exploration of Sybil's full breasts, squeezing here, squeezing there, and then gently pinching the nipples through the thin sweater and bra. It was hard to tell which one had the more urgent desire to progress. Up to this point I had been only a fully-ignored spectator, but then Sybil looked right at me as she unbuttoned the sweater, reached around and unhooked her bra. Miriam pulled the bra away, looked into my eyes and then placed her hands on Sybil's bare breasts. She seemed to be asserting possession of them in a way, and seemed to want to emphasize this silently to me as she caressed them while they both kept eye contact with me. Then Miriam spoke.

"Well, Jake. Are we doing justice to your fantasy?"

I could hardly speak, and could only nod, while mumbling my agreement. But she continued.

"But you must have imagined more than this. Isn't that true, Jake?"

I guess it was a rhetorical question and she didn't really wait for an answer, but turned to speak to my wife.

"Let's go to the couch."

Sybil obeyed, and just stood next to it, waiting for further instruction, seeming to fall into a submissive role.

"Your skirt, Sybil."

And off it came.

Sybil now stood in front of our guest, wearing only her white cotton panties. There was an obvious damp spot that somehow added to the lewdness of the situation.

"Oh dear! Are we getting wet then? Let's see."

Making sure I could see, Miriam placed one hand on Sybil's ass and slowly moved the other down over the tummy and into those panties. I couldn't see her fingers, of course, but it was obvious they'd gone to work.

"Why yes! I think we've gotten seriously wet."

Again, Miriam turned to me.

"Do you like it, Jake?"

I was in a daze.

"Yes, Miriam"

And with that reply, it began to seem as if she had us both under her power.

"I want to see how much you like it. I'd love to suck on Sybil's pussy, but first you have to show us."

"What do you mean"

"Don't you want to stroke it, Jake? Take it out and show us."

It had gotten so hard, it was difficult to do gracefully, but I unzipped and did manage to get it out.

"Oh now that is impressive, Jake. I'd say you absolutely like it. I'm going to suck on Sybil's pussy now, and you may want to touch yourself. Just don't come until I say you can. First, I'm going to make Sybil come. Ladies First, you know."

I'd always wondered about what Sybil really thought, of doing something like this with another woman. She'd never told me about being with any woman before we got together, but it had recently become obvious that there were still plenty of things she hadn't shared. What she had said, was that she thought that a woman ought to be able to eat pussy better than any man. It was like owning one put you at an inherent advantage when it came to skillfully pleasuring one.

Miriam pulled the panties down and Sybil stepped out of them. With a little urging from Miriam's toe, she parted her legs just enough to allow Miriam to cup her hand over the entirety of the now-fully-exposed pussy, which she now kneeled in front of. It seemed incongruous, this dominant woman taking such a posture of worship.

Miriam moved excruciatingly slowly, first just licking the inner thighs. But as she went from one side to the other, each time included an accidental (which is to say, deliberate) brush against Sybil's groomed, yet beautifully furry mound, the sides of which finally began to receive attention. Then Miriam used her hand to spread the outer lips slightly. She just waited like that, before finally dragging her tongue lightly upward along the glistening slit. It was hard not to come, watching this, but I did feel a strange desire, to be obedient to this woman. The vertical licks became more pronounced, each generating a moan of pleasure from my wife. Finally Sybil let out a plaintive "Please!" and pulled on the back of Miriam's head. Miriam replied to that,

"Sit on the couch, bring your ass to the edge and spread wide for me."

Sybil obeyed perfectly. Now it was time. Time to stop ignoring it. Finally, the clit. First just the briefest visit on each upward stroke. Miriam was relentless in her teasing. And my wife was going crazy. I was no dummy. There was no doubt that if I were smart, I would remember the details, and perhaps approach the level of pussy-licking skill I was witnessing. Now, little circles, and the moaning got louder. At last, tiny sucks.

It began with a kind of trembling. Sybil's mouth fell open as the trembling gave way to jerking. She let loose a plaintive wail, and now a series of violent jerks in random directions. There was no way Miriam could stay in position and her mouth was now replaced by Sybil's hand, finally bringing her across the finish line. But the beautiful masturbation continued, with gradually declining intensity, punctuated by a few aftershocks. We were all quiet, giving Sybil time to recover, and then Miriam stood up, unhooked and unzipped the form-fitting jeans, pushed them down and off. The panties were some sort of green iridescent material I couldn't name. She had my number. Knew I'd want to look, so she just stood there, pulled the material tight and looked me in the eye as she gave herself a couple of slow strokes, and then, maintaining eye contact, pulled the panties down and off, giving me a few seconds to stare. It was bald, making the central furrow clearly visible, even though she was standing. But so much for showing. She turned and spoke to my wife on the couch.

"Lie on your back on the floor, dear. I'm going to sit on your face. I need to come."

Sybil obeyed. Her head was closest to me and Miriam faced me as she lowered herself. I would have a good view.

Sybil couldn't really move very much, although she was certainly doing creative things with her tongue. But mostly, it was Miriam who was in control, taking responsibility for her own orgasm, mostly just using my wife's mouth as a sex toy. The look on her face was one of total determination. Like she knew she was going to get what she wanted. And it was all having its effect on my wife, who reached down and pleasured herself, as the woman above her reached her trembling, if silent climax, falling then to the side, and using her hand to squeeze out a few final spasms.

After a short recovery, Miriam stood up and looked at me, stroking herself more gently now.

"Well, you got to see mine, so your turn. Do it on your wife's tits."

Incredibly, I felt a little embarrassed, with them both staring expectantly. But Miriam seemed to know how to encourage me, which she did by parting her legs and leaning back, continuing to pleasure herself, inviting my stare. That did it. Hardly had to touch myself, and I was over the edge. And then Sybil, apparently in no hurry to clean up, just used her fingers to spread the white liquid over her nipples.

- - -

It was only a week later, and as my workday neared its end, my phone buzzed. Sybil.

"Hey, sweetie, what's up?"

"Just wondering if you had an idea of when you might be getting home."

This question seemed to have an eerie familiarity.

"Probably no later than 7. Why?"

"Sorry. Surprise."

I started to feel my arousal. I couldn't believe it, but it sounded like this could be some sort of repeat performance. Would it be Miriam again? Possibly someone else this time? I tried not looking like some sort of crazed idiot as I grabbed my things and headed out the door to the parking lot.

In the front door this time. She stood there. Black leggings, with a ridiculously short black skirt, white knit top and -- yes -- had to be bra-less. I could already see the excitement in her eyes.

I was almost hyperventilating, asking her,

"Okay, so what's the big surprise?"

She used her eyes to direct mine to the person sitting on the couch.

It was not Miriam. Not a new woman for my wife to play out my fantasy a second time.

It was a man. Sybil looked at me with a huge smile.

"My turn, honey."

Three

I wondered then if I was actually turning green. I should have known. Sybil and Miriam had given me a great show. Totally turned my stated fantasy into brilliant reality. Far exceeding anything I could have dreamed up. But of course. It was payback time. I knew my wife, after all. Of course she would want -- would insist on -- having her turn. What ever happened to the notion that fantasy is one thing, reality another? Well, if I was ever going to argue that point, the time to do so had passed. I got to have mine and now she was going to get hers. You could argue that I could just say something like "I know it doesn't seem fair, but no!". I seriously considered it, but just didn't see myself as that big of an asshole.

I looked at the man on the couch. I guess I could do this. It would be like doing the annual Naked Bike Ride. No, it was really more than that. But maybe coming out the other side, living to tell about it, so to speak, maybe I'd have some weird sort of pride that I was able to handle it. I wasn't sure who I'd want to brag to, however. Sybil realized that an introduction was in order.

"Honey, this is Glen. From my yoga class?"

He stood and I went over and shook his hand.

"I'm Jake, Sybil's husband. But I guess you knew that. She's told me about you."