Today at work, I went into Randall's office to make sure the plans were set. Barely looking me in the eye, he nodded his head, confirming that yes everything was ready. Then we stood there in silence. He had a very big smile on his face. I couldn't blame him for not being able to conceal it.
I asked him how many of his friends would be joining him. He told me at least 12. Probably more. Maybe many more. But definitely 12 for sure.
In a very low voice so that we could not be overheard, I reviewed all of the key and minute details with him once again. One last time. It was vital that he follow everything to a tee.
Satisfied, I then said to him slowly, "I'll see you later then."
As I turned around to walk out, he put his hand on my shoulder. I turned back to face him. He had a look of mild concern in his eyes. He said, "I need to ask you just one last time... Are you sure?"
Then I gave him the answer I always gave him: "More than you know."
*****
When I arrive home tonight, my wife is standing at the kitchen counter, drinking a glass of white wine very quickly. I move toward her slowly, quietly. Taking in her beauty. She has her back to me, but I can tell that she is dressed to kill. I'm very happy she's chosen her strapless black dress, as it exposes the creamy white skin of her neck, her shoulders, her arms -- all of it naked, longing to be caressed. I am standing right behind her, but she doesn't turn around. I put a hand on her bare shoulder. It is warm to the touch.
"Happy Anniversary," she says lovingly.
"Yes," I say. "Happy Anniversary."
She turns around to face me. She looks exquisite. Her breasts look as if they're ready to pop right out of her dress.
"My God, dear," I say in jest, taking her into a strong embrace. "It looks like you'll be turning several heads at the restaurant this evening."
"Well," she says devilishly, looking right into my eyes, "I know it turns you on when other men look at me."
"More than you know," I say matter-of-factly.
"But David," she says, her tone turning rather serious as it always does when we delve into this familiar subject matter, "I don't want to talk about those dirty fantasies of yours tonight, okay?"
I can feel that she's loosening her grip around my waist. I smile weakly. She pulls away from me altogether.
"Seriously," she says. "It's our anniversary tonight. I want to celebrate being your loving, faithful wife of 10 years. Tonight, when we come back from the restaurant, I want to make love. Not just fuck. I want it to be loving. I want it to be tender. I don't want to talk about all those nasty things going on in your head, okay?"
"Sure," I say. "I wouldn't want it any other way."
"I'm so glad you're okay with this," she sighs. "I've been worried about saying that to you all day."
It's obvious she was nervous to tell me this. I look down at her glass of wine to see it's empty. Here is the moment I've been waiting for.
"Vivian," I say with charm glinting in my eyes, "you look absolutely stunning, but I do believe a certain expensive piece of jewelry may be the perfect complement to that dress. A certain NEW piece of jewelry that may be in a black box in the top drawer of my nightstand."
Her eyes light up.
"Oh David!" she sings. "I hope you didn't go overboard on my anniversary gift!"
I smile like a naughty schoolboy. "Tell you what. You go on upstairs and hunt for your present while I pour you another glass of wine. Then I'll be right up to see the look on your face as you open the box."
"Oh David, I love you. You're such a wonderful man. I am the luckiest wife in the world."
"Yes you are," I say smugly.
I watch my wife, her face completely beaming with happiness, as she hurries up the stairs. That was almost too easy. But yet my hands are sweaty, signifying my anxiousness. I reach into my pocket and the fact that the vial is still there jolts me into a higher level of reality. This is no longer a dream or a fantasy. This is going to happen.
Feeling the tiny glass vial with the tips of my fingers makes something sinister stir inside me. I realize my testicles are tingling with anticipation as I take the vial out of my pocket.
I pour my wife another glass of Chardonnay. And then I quickly empty the contents of the vial into her drink. It fizzles just slightly, and then everything becomes very still. So far, so good. I stir the concoction with my finger. It looks like nothing more than a glass of white wine.
"This had better work," I mumble to myself.
If it doesn't, I'm out $500. Although losing that money could be the least of my worries.
"OH MY GOD, DAVID!!" my wife shrieks from upstairs. She's found the diamond necklace.
I grasp the glass of spiked wine and hurry up the stairs, ever so careful not to spill a drop.
*****
I notice the first effects of the drug at the restaurant.
Tiny beads of perspiration are slipping down Vivian's long, curvy neck.
"It's hot in here, isn't it?" she says, sounding somewhat drunk.
Her delicate, manicured fingers playfully stroke the diamond-studded choker around her neck.
"Hot?" I say, raising an eyebrow. "Do you think so? I suppose..."
Uncontrollably, she closes her eyes and tilts her head to one side. I watch her fingers caress the diamonds and then move to the flesh of her throat. The elongated curve of her neck begs to be kissed... bitten... sucked on. Her fingertips trail a sultry design on her hot, sweaty skin.
"Vivian? Are you alright, dear?"
It's as if she's slipping away into her own world. She doesn't open her eyes. She doesn't answer me.
Instead, she leans back from the table and continues massaging the flesh of her neck. Her hand glides up over her chin. She licks her big luscious lips in slow motion. And then suddenly she licks up the length of her index finger, and then places it into her mouth.
"Ummmm," she murmurs, sucking on her own finger.
The finger is deep in her mouth, all the way down to the knuckle. She pulls it out a bit, and then slides it back in, slowly.
Her lips are puckered tight around the finger as she pumps it in and out of her mouth. As if she were sucking a tiny cock.
Then she pulls it out completely. It looks all wet and shiny, coated with her saliva. Her finger then glides down over her diamond choker, over her sweaty-wet collarbone. Her finger goes down, down, down until it's caressing her exposed cleavage.
I look around and discover several people have already noticed Vivian's inappropriate behavior. My dick starts to grow inside my pants.
I watch Vivian's hand reach inside the front of her dress. But the dress is so tight, there's not enough room for her hand. And so... a perfect, supple tit pops out. It looks so beautiful and yet so decadent being exposed in public for the very first time.
Vivian languidly opens her eyes, somewhat aware that her breast is naked in a setting where it shouldn't be. But the glazed look in her eyes simply says she doesn't care. She vacantly looks down at her tit and tenderly flicks at the erect nipple with her index finger.
"Vivian," I whisper, "what are you doing?"
"My God, this is ridiculous," hisses an older woman at the table closest to us. I look over to see her shielding her eyes from Vivian's indecent exposure. Her husband, however, cannot bear to look away. Suddenly his gaze shifts from Vivian's succulent white breast directly into my eyes. It seems he's hoping I can give him some sort of answer as to why I'm allowing my wife to act like this. I wink at him, and then look back at Vivian.