How Was Your Week Ch. 02
At the end of chapter one of this story our couple, Sam and Melinda Anderson, were contemplating an invitation to dinner they had received from another couple, Lars and Astrid, Gustafson. As this chapter opens the Andersons are in their car driving to the planned dinner at the Gustafsons' home. In the prior chapter Sam was the narrator. In this chapter Melinda will be the narrator.
As Sam drove us towards the Gustafson's home I was feeling very insecure about our planned evening. Sam and I had been married for ten years and had a very active sex life but we were purely monogamous. We did engage in fantasies about extramarital affairs either or both of us might have had with others, usually people we knew or had known. But they were purely fantasy, intended to spice up our own sex.
Lars was a handsome Swede in his early forties, probably ten years older than Sam and I. He managed the gym that Sam and I worked out at. His wife Astrid was a tall and very attractive Swedish blonde of similar age. Astrid was a sexual therapist who delivered lectures to groups and counseled couples on how to improve their sex life.
I knew from several conversations I had had with Astrid that the core of her philosophy was that it was important for couples to have an open relationship and to take advantage of opportunities for sexual relations with others when they arose or to even seek them out. All Astrid had specifically asked was that we come to dinner at their home. However she had implied that discussion at dinner would include her suggestions on how Sam and I could broaden our sex life beyond our current active, but purely monogamous, relations.
Lars had said nothing to either of us about dinner beyond that he and Astrid were looking forward to seeing us. Given Astrid's encouragement of open relationships, Sam and I went so far as to speculate about how much of each of us the Gustafsons looking forward to seeing. Was the dinner invitation really intended as an invitation to get naked and have sex with the Gustafsons? That was surely an extreme twisting of his otherwise customary choice of language but totally consistent with our habit of fantasizing about sex with others we knew.
Dinner had been delayed for several weeks due to conflicts with Astrid's and Sam's travel schedules. During that delay Sam and I had speculated on Astrid's intentions (seduction?) and had told each other lewd fantasies about what a foursome with the Gustafsons would be like. Our fantasies involved me having sex with Lars while Sam watched and Sam with Astrid while I watched. However, each of us was careful to later make it clear that our acquiescence to the other's extramarital sex was just part of a fantasy intended to improve our intercourse occurring as we spun out the fantasy and not an explicit or even implicit approval (or disapproval) of the other's conduct. When we did approach the real-world questions of whether we would engage in sex with the Gustafsons, or whether that was what they intended, the only answer we could come up with was agreement that we would go to the planned dinner and that we would 'play it by ear,' whatever that meant.
In summary, we had spent the last three weeks fucking each other silly, speculating about the Gustafsons' intentions, and carefully refraining from deciding how we would respond to a proposition if one was made. Now it was Friday night and we were driving to dinner. I was uncertain, nervous, and horny; very, very horny. And I was pretty sure Sam was in the same condition.
Astrid had told me that dress would be casual. Sam was wearing a pair of Dockers and a golf shirt, pretty much his customary work clothing as a software salesman. I had elected to wear a loose-fitting skirt that ended a couple of inches above my knees and loosely fitting pullover top that hung nicely over my firm C-cup breasts. As I had been preparing for the evening, I considered omitting undergarments, but had decided that would be letting my lewd imagination take control. I wasn't sure that going commando would be consistent with 'playing it by ear.'
The Gustafsons' home was a very large one in an upscale neighborhood, much more expensive than where Sam and I lived. I held Sam's hand as we stood waiting for someone to answer the door. Our grips were tight, belying our mutual insecurity about the evening ahead. As we heard footsteps approaching the other side of the door he whispered in my ear, "Showtime dear,"
I responded by squeezing his hand and whispering, 'play it by ear.'"
Sam responded by squeezing my hand.
Neither of us had a clue as to exactly what we meant by 'play it by ear,' but that is what we were going to do.
When the door opened Lars and Astrid were both standing before us, Lars dressed in a fashion very similar to Sam and Astrid in a long flowing skirt that came to the floor, just covering her sandals. Her top was a semi-transparent blouse that was fastened, barely, with a couple of hooks that left a lovely expanse of chest and cleavage exposed. It was quite a change from her customary business suits worn for her counseling sessions and lectures. Her thick blonde hair, normally worn in a conservative knot atop her head, was now allowed to hang down falling with loose curls well below her shoulders. Her make up, normally barely noticeable, was heavier but not slutty. It emphasized her high cheek bones and her wide blue eyes. She looked stunning.
As I stepped in Lars stuck out his hand in greeting. Once he had my hand in his grip he pulled me into a boob smashing hug that included a brief and sensual kiss just below my left ear. I looked to my side and saw that Astrid was doing the same thing with my husband.
When we parted, Lars shook Sam's hand, saying, "Come with me and let's make some drinks for these ladies."
As they stepped away Astrid wrapped me up in a greeting hug every bit as aggressive as her husband's had been. She was wearing a fragrance that I found enticing, or I was at least sure Sam would. I decided that her large breasts were clearly unconstrained by any form of bra. "Oh I'm so glad you two could make it. We have so much to talk about tonight," she said as she released me. That was followed by gushing compliments about how attractive I looked tonight and how my clothing matched my figure perfectly.
Alright I thought. My first question about the evening has been answered. The Gustafsons' objective tonight is seduction. That left the question of how Sam and I would respond. I felt the low fire of lust in my system crank up just a notch as she mentioned how much we needed to talk. Somehow a conversation with Astrid always ultimately came around to sex and her views about the importance of open relationships.
Astrid took my hand and led me to a huge living room where we sat opposite each other on facing couches. The furnishings were opulent. I remember briefly wondering how the Gustafsons could afford a grand home like this one if all he did was manage a gym. I guessed that Astrid's sex therapy business must be a profitable one. "After all," I told myself, "we all know that sex sells."
"My, but you have a lovely home," I said.
She smiled and said, "Thank you. Credit for it really goes to Lars; well Lars and his family. The Design and decoration are by Lars, but the money came from his family. His father is a very successful industrialist in Sweden. The money he makes at the gym and that I make helping people improve their sex life wouldn't touch this."
"Oh, I see." I didn't know what else to say. I hadn't really expected such candor. I was thinking, it really helps to marry well, but of course I wasn't about to say that. Instead I headed for a different subject saying, "I like your hair down. I've always seen you with it put up and coiled atop your head. It looks lovely as it is."
She smiled. "Oh that's just for work. I need to look very austere and professional if I am going to advise people about their sex lives. She paused for a moment. "It's an interesting balance. I want the men to find me attractive, even sexy, but not slutty. But it is even more important to avoid having their wives intimidated by me. If that happens my message just blows right past them."
"I have adopted the white blouse, the conservative woman's business suit, low heels, and my hair piled atop my head to try to strike the necessary balance. Honestly it gets a little boring after a while." She laughed and shook her head, letting her long hair fly about. Pushing it back from her face she continued, "It's so tricky. Take the shoes for example, I wear heels because I want the men to notice I have attractive legs, but they can't be tall heels because of the need not to intimidate the wives. And god forbid that they were a flashy gold or silver or worse yet a come fuck me red. No that just wouldn't do."
"And make-up. It's very conservative, but still there."
"Then of course there is the issue of my bosom. I mean it is what it is . . ." she paused and held up her breasts which were obviously quite large and round and soft. "Lars loves them. But I spend money to have my suit jackets tailored to deemphasize their size. The objective is for men to notice them and again for their wives not to be threatened."
