She inserted the key card and reached for the elevator button for the club floor; nervous, but drawn by some new urge triggered by his confident, brash manner.
The elevator door closed and began to move upward.
She had fantasized about other men. All wives do. How else would you explain the millions of romance novels involving muscled, confident, take charge men, who take what they want? She had a different need than most married women, however. She had an empty space in her soul that her husband no longer fulfilled, and frankly, would now never be able to fulfil.
Her husband told her of his fantasies of her being taken by another man, a real man, and about how hot it made him to think of her being pleasured by a real alpha male. He knew she needed more than he could give her. She indulged him and knew he could not be that man for her, but never really seriously considered it. She struggled with her hunger. She loved her life and was extremely fulfilled except for that missing piece. It was complicated; people might find out; what if the guy became attached emotionally.
"Just know that I love you, I am so sorry that I cannot give you that, and I am ok with it if the opportunity ever arises."
She knew he loved her and knew he actually meant what he said. This generated conflicting feelings-- hurt that he was not more possessive of her and the warm love of knowing he was so committed that he would grant her the freedom, even if she would never take the opportunity to test his permission. She knew he felt it was a sadness in an otherwise wonderful marriage. She knew he would do anything for her. He had tried to be the man for her. In the beginning, he had been that man she needed or at least they both thought he could be.
She was shocked when he told her. She was much more open minded than her friends, and Lord knows she had her own secret thoughts and fantasies. However, she was embarrassed for him and, honestly, for herself. He was so scared when he told her. He was scared she would leave him, but she knew she wouldn't. She knew enough from her psychology classes to know that he would not change. She knew it was part of him.
Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe she should have just let him try to suppress it. Maybe she should have tried to isolate it and wall it off in their relationship. She loved his masculine side and his strength and power as a lover, with a gentle and knowing touch at the same time. She loved it when he would take her aggressively and hungrily. She started out their marriage that way; never bringing it up, and putting him off when he hinted around.
She loved him too deeply, however. She wanted to really know him. She wanted to know his strongest desires, the inner core of his being. This desire overcame her fear of what she would foster and how he would evolve. She began indulging him. She was ambivalent at first, but he was so joyful. She felt his love and gratitude. She felt that part of him blossom. She felt his gratitude in the endless hours he spent touching her and licking her. She began to find her own joy in expanding this part of him. It was really too late when she realized that the evolution she was actively encouraging was creating a hole in a very far corner of her life, a small hole at first, but a hole that created a nagging craving. By this time, she could only express how she felt to her husband. He understood. He tried to be that man for her once again. He was skilled and patient, but he was too far beyond what she needed. She knew what he really wanted and was happy to give it to him, but she knew that he could not be that man for her. She knew him too well. She knew he knew it also. She knew he felt guilty and knew he was sincere when he repeatedly encouraged her to seek to fulfill her needs with a real man.
She did wonder how he would really take it. Could he handle the jealousy? Would his encouragement lead to despair? She knew he would never leave her. Not with his secret and her controlling indulgence. She knew he realized that her gift to him of control and femininity could not be duplicated or replaced. She was in control and could do what she wanted with her body. She never thought she would actually do it, however, so in the past this had just been idle speculation.
The man in the lobby was different somehow. Like all beautiful women, she got hit on by jerks and hapless losers all the time. These men would make the odd casual remark or attempt a ham handed come on, but seemed conscious that they were going to get shot down before they even opened their mouth. She thought it was almost as if some book they read told them that, if they put their bullshit out there enough someday some woman might say yes, despite their apparent lack of any redeeming qualities.
The man in the lobby was different indeed. She bumped into him, literally, when she was checking in. He said excuse me and apologized as if it was his fault when she had been the one who bumped into him. He was tall and fit with short full hair and graying temples. He was dressed in a very expensive looking dark blue suit. Not ostentatious, but polished and together. She felt a little lift of recognition of his attractiveness inside her, as he subtly smiled, his deep blue eyes crinkling at the corners. She smiled back and turned to the check in desk as he continued his journey to the elevator.
After checking in, she went to her room, unpacked, and showered, careful not to be late for the opening event of the weekend honoring her former mentor that had brought her to town.
She made better time than expected getting dressed and decided to have a glass of wine in the bar while she waited on a former colleague to pick her up for the reception. Before she left her room, she sent her husband a text to touch base and tease him a little, including a picture of her leg and her new suede booties. She teased him, asking him what he was wearing. She knew that by now he would be fully immersed in her indulgent gifts. She knew what she had created, and she was happy to give him the joy that she knew he was experiencing. The picture she received in return of a tights covered legs and black suede booties with stiletto heels that matched hers was still a bit of a shock, seeing is more powerful than just knowing, a more powerful reminder of what he was and what he could no longer be for her.
Sitting at the bar, she felt confident. She was beautifully dressed for the reception in a cute (and a little short) black knit cocktail dress, black tights, and her sleek new suede booties complete with sky high stiletto heels- classy, fashionable, and extremely sexy. She owned this look.
As she sipped her glass of pinot noir, she felt someone brush up against her as they approached the bar on her left. She was surprised when she looked up and it was him.
He smiled and apologized "I am sorry, I keep running into you. My name is Peter Dunning."
She returned his smile and introduced herself, taking the strong hand that he offered and shaking it confidently.
"You look fantastic. Where are you headed?"
