I've been writing for a while in a few genres, but this is my first-time sharing any stories related to erotica - to anyone. It's a new story (for me) inspired by a reoccurring dream. Hope you enjoy.
***
"Oh my god," exclaimed my wife pointing at the shorter man who just walked into the half-empty bar surrounded by two burly looking men like he was a movie star, "That's him! Marcus Deck."
My wife is a few years younger than my thirty-seven years and we've been married for ten years with two kids. Though she getting closer to forty, Alexandra had a body to rival most twenty-somethings. She played basketball in college and managed to keep in amazing shape two kids later. Alex is five-foot-ten with long lean toned legs, shapely hips, and 32B breasts that, despite a little sag, still were pin-up worthy. Her once long brown locks were cropped into a pixie cut, but only accented her perfect lips, sharp cheekbones and stunning brown eyes.
I'm a little taller at just over six feet and kept myself in decent shape, except the beer belly- love padding as my wife called it when we were frisky.
The problem was the friskiness was fading in our marriage with both of us working with two school-age kids now in activities. When we had sex, it was amazing as we both knew how to satisfy each other. Frequency was the only problem. As much as I tried to remind Alex she was still the hottest woman on the planet in my eyes, everyday stress killed the mood for her. That's why I decided to get my parents to watch the kids so we could go to Vegas for our tenth anniversary. City of Sin with no kids.
Day one, Alex still had jet lag and just wanted to hang around the pool for most of the day. She promised to be rested for our evening out and bedtime after. I was excited that she wore an amazing black backless slip dress for us to go out for supper and a show. After the show, which was supposed to be 'erotic,' but mostly just cringe-worthy, Alex suggest stopping at the bar in that casino for a few drinks and discuss how bad the show was. All I wanted to do was get her to our room and out of that dress, so of course I agreed.
"Marcus who?" I replied.
"Marcus Deck the Wreck! Come on. He played for the Fighting Irish? Tailback for two seasons until he blew out his knee? Set a record for most all-purpose yards in a quarter?"
I shrugged.
"Fuck, I always wanted to watch him play in person. Dad will freak out. Think he'll be weirded out if I asked for an autograph or selfie with him?"
"I think he'll want to hit on you," I replied.
"Fuck, if this was back in his playing days, my panties would already be on the floor and I'd be crawling on the table for him."
I made a face. Alex was almost to the drunk phase and never would joke like that sober - at least in front of me.
"Oh, come on. I know you had your college crushes too," Alex said touching my hand.
"Yes, but I won't discuss them with you. I love you too much."
She kissed my cheek. "Love you too. Be right back."
I watched my wife go up to this has-been from more than a decade ago and act like he was a boy-band star. Deck obviously liked the attention. He signed a napkin. One of his posse took my wife's phone and they posed for a picture. I didn't like how his hand was low on her bare back, but whatever. Then, he started whispering in her ear and she giggled and shook her head. He kept talking and she kept giggling. One of his men blocked my view. I tried shifting, but lost sight of them for a few minutes until all of them left and went to the dance floor at the back of the bar.
Part of me wanted to go drag her back, but I knew Alex hated jealousy and dumped the two men previous to me for that reason. After ten years, why couldn't I trust my wife to dance with an old college crush?
For the first song, it was clear there was some flirting on his end, but Alex kept her distance. For the second, they moved close and there was some grinding as Deck had his hand on her ass. At that moment, an influx of young adults were on the floor cheering as the hit of the month was played and I lost sight. I got up and walked toward the floor trying to spot them. It wasn't until the end of four songs later that I found them just off the dance area by the hall to the washrooms. Alex looked a little guilty and quickly downed the drink she was holding. I'm sure she knew I saw her grinding her ass against Deck.
"You must be the husband," said Deck grabbing my hand with both of his and shaking it hard, "Deck the Wreck. Or DJ Wreck as it is now."
"Thanks for the picture and dance," Alex said and she smiled sheeply and walked away.
"Man, you are lucky," said Deck. He lifted his one hand to his nose, sniffed deeply and sighed, "What a woman."
His two men burst on laughing.
I smelled the hand he shook, which unmistakably smelled like pussy. My wife's pussy.
In the cab back to the hotel, Alex tried to kiss me and I turned away.
"Hey, come on," she pouted.
"What were you drinking? You're drunk and your breath smells terrible."
"And horny. Really horny. Come on, this is why we're here."
I shook my head. "Not here."
The cab driver gave me a look that pretty much said, 'Are you crazy?'
As soon as we got to the room, Alex basically threw herself at me and I stopped her. I headed to the washroom and washed the evidence from my hand like making the smell disappear would make it never happened. Alex was sitting on the bed, still in her dress.
"What the fuck, Mike?" Alex shook her head in frustration. "What is your problem?"
"Let's sleep on it and discuss it when you're sober," I said and started changing into my sleeping boxers, which I brought but never intended on wearing.
"No, now," Alex insisted.
"I really don't want to talk about it now, but I shouldn't need to."
"Wreck? This is about him? Okay, things got a little crazy, but fuck this is Vegas. We were just having fun."
"Fun?" I closed my eyes and tried to count to ten to cool off. "Him finger fucking you in public is fun?"
Her face changed. "What the hell are you talking about? We danced and it got a little dirty. You go to that?"
"He rubbed his fingers on mine and made sure I knew."
Alex disappeared in the bathroom. She reappeared nude and threw on a t-shirt.
"Well?" I said as she turned off the light and climbed in the opposite side of the king bed. Our bed at home could almost fit in the space between us.
"Well, what," she said coldly, "I don't want to dignify that with an answer. Either you got a crazy imagination or something happened with him and someone else when I went to the washroom."
"Washroom?"
"Yeah, us girls go there sometime to pee. We danced I went to the bathroom and he was waiting there with a drink for me when I came out and you were there seconds later. Not that I should have to explain myself."
"Oh." I said.
"So are you apologizing?"
"Are you?"
"Fuck you," she snarled.
I thought I heard her get up in the early morning to text, but I could've been dreaming. Then again, she could be texting the kids and was telling the truth. Then again, a part of me kept returning to the fact that I knew what Alex smelled like. That definitely was her juice on his fingers.
The morning was awkward small talk carefully avoiding anything that could bring up the night before. I tried to kiss her good morning, but now she was the one not wanting intimacy from me.
"I think I'm going shopping this afternoon. Coming with me?" Alex said after checking her phone at brunch.
"No, you go. I might go use the gym and we can go out for dinner - or have it in our room."
She made a face that was unusual, it was hard to read. "Are you sure you don't want to?"
I sighed. "I think I just need a little alone time... process everything. Start fresh this evening."
She smiled. "I love you, you know."
"I love you too. Still are my pin-up queen."
