Roman Holiday

Going back through his papers I wondered who these men were he was corresponding with. They all seemed like minded sharing some version of the same fantasy. There were even a couple of swinger magazines. I looked through the pictures. There were lots of couples I discovered who were looking for a single man to satisfy the wife. I was relieved to see there was no picture of Roland and I. I would have been furious if there had been because it would have been one more thing he was keeping from me.

He didn't call every day he was gone but he did call several times a week. We had never had phone sex, but we had sexual conversations about what he was going to do to me when he got home. Mainly we talked about our days, our jobs, the weather, t.v. shows, sports, family, sometimes politics and religion.

He called that night. I was in bed watching a crime documentary about a man who led a secret life. He was a loving husband and a serial killer. I didn't think Roland was a serial killer, but I did wonder if he was living a secret life. What else was he keeping from me? Had he explored his fantasies with other couples? Had he cheated on me?

He sounded the same as always. It didn't take him long to sense I was a bit distant. He asked if he should call back. I told him no, that I was glad he called. I then told him about the show I was watching. He had seen it before months earlier with me. He didn't really like real life crime dramas. He said they depressed him, but I found them exciting. People amazed me, especially their duplicity.

We chatted. He sounded relaxed. I sounded like my old self. I had thought about waiting until after his trip, but he was going to be gone another week, maybe two.

"Roland, I found your collection."

Dead silence followed by an oh and an apology.

"Jeanette, I'm so sorry."

I cut him off, "You can make it up to me later. I just want to know why. I thought I was your best friend, that we shared things, that we communicated. Now I discover you don't share a lot. How long have you had these fantasies? Who are these people you correspond with? Where did you get those magazines? Are you unhappy with me?"

I probably asked him fifty questions, my voice getting higher and louder. I had told myself I wouldn't cry, but I did. He had hurt my feelings which was the worst feeling in the world. He hadn't trusted me enough to share. I had shared my fantasies with him. They were I know tame compared to his, but they were fantasies. He knew I liked romance novels, especially where the beautiful maiden gets swept off her feet by a man everyone thinks is bad, but who is really good, the strong, silent type, a man of action, who can be a savage one minute killing people left and right and the next be a gentleman seducing the woman with his control.

He thankfully let me finish. Roland had his flaws, but being a poor listener wasn't one of them.

He said, "I can explain."

I sniffled, put the phone down, blew my nose several times, before picking it back up.

"I really am sorry I kept my fantasies from you. I didn't want you to think less of me. I would never ask you to do the things I fantasize about. I love you too much. I've had these fantasies a long time, even when we were dating. I just feel so inadequate thinking you deserve someone better. I feel blessed to have you. You are clearly out of my league. I wondered what you saw in me. I feel like I disappoint you. I bought those magazines at an adult bookstore on one of my trips. The letters are from men I met who have the same fantasies. The men I met at the bookstore. I rented a post office box so we can send each other letters."

He continued talking, but he was starting to irritate me with his apologies and how they were just fantasies that he would never ask me to do what he fantasized about. He was sorry, sorry he had been busted.

"Roland, quit telling me you're sorry! I get it. You have fantasies. I'm just pissed you didn't share. How do you know I wouldn't have done them. You never even asked me," I spat back.

Silence on his end.

"Jeanette, how could I ask you knowing what I wanted might really freak you out.?"

"You should have at least tried. We could have at least role played. I did drama in high school. I know how to give a convincing performance. Roland, I love you. Are you happy with me?"

"I am."

"You may be happy, but you're not satisfied. Something's missing. I thought we had a great sex life, but evidently we don't. I don't know if I can do the things you want, but I can try. Why don't we start by role playing?"

He sounded relieved and excited, "You would do this for me?"

"For us. I like being your wife. I want you to be happy. I can't make you happy if you keep things from me. You need to start telling me everything. No more secrets."

He quickly answered, "You're right. No more secrets."

"No more trips to adult bookstores unless I'm with you. You must think about sex a lot because you have done a lot of writing. You should be using all that energy and creative juices on me."

"You'd go to an adult bookstore?"

"Of course, but with you. I don't know where any are, but we live in a big city. I'm sure we can find one."

I didn't think Roland was gay, but I wondered if he was bisexual. Hanging out in adult bookstores with other men didn't strike me as something heterosexual men would do.

I had to ask. Fantasies are one thing, he having sex with other men another.

"Roland, what do you do in those bookstores? I can't believe you just look at magazines and suddenly you're corresponding with other men having the same fantasies as you. Are you having sex with them?"

"Oh God no. I promise I'm not. I'm not gay Jeanette or even bisexual."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"I'm not so sure. It sounds gay what you're doing."

"Jeanette, it's not like that at all. We're all married. We don't touch each other."

"So what do you do?"

"We watch,".

"Watch what? I thought it was a bookstore."

"It is, but this bookstore has theaters."

"So they show movies. And you watch the movies with other men. Then you talk about what you've seen?"

"We don't watch the movies. We watch couples who are in the theater."

"Are the couples having sex in front of everyone?"

"Yes."

I noticed Roland's breathing was a little faster.

"Roland, are you excited telling me this?"

"Yes," he sounded somewhat embarrassed.

"That's okay. Are you playing with yourself?" What he was doing sounded so juvenile I decided to treat him like a little boy.

"I am."

I used a gentle, but firm tone to tell him, "I want you to stop. Not unless you're with me. I get to tell you when you can cum."

"Okay," he reluctantly agreed.

"Promise?"

"I promise."

"Good. Now go on. These couples have sex in front of everyone and you watch, but you don't participate?"

"I swear we don't participate. We just watch and we, uhm, masturbate."

I couldn't help but laugh. I didn't mean to. I just couldn't help it. I just pictured all these men standing around in a movie theater jacking off while watching complete strangers fuck.

It sounded so ludicrous and juvenile.

"I'm sorry for laughing. I just had this mental image of a bunch of men with small penises masturbating as they watched a man with a big cock fuck his wife in front of them."

"Jeanette, now you know why I never told you. You don't find this at all arousing. It disgusts you."

"Roland, I didn't say that. These men who are masturbating. Do they all have small penises or just you?"

"Small," but what he said next sounded boastful, "But, I'm bigger than most."

I felt bad for him feeling so inadequate but he fantasized about being humiliated, "So, you're the king of the midgets?"

Silence on the other end, Speared him right through his secret keeping heart.

"Yeah, I guess so."

"I don't guess so. I know so. Go on. You're watching this couple fuck. Is his dick big?"

"Huge."

"That sounds exciting. Is his wife pretty?"

"It's not his wife, but yes they've all been pretty."

"Whose wife is she?"

"She's married to one of the men watching."

"He's jacking off instead of fucking his own wife. Now, that's crazy."

"I know it sounds crazy, Jeanette, but it's hot."

"How so?"

"Because she is having the best orgasms of her life. She's got her wedding ring on. Sometimes they stare at their husbands or their husbands hold their hand while she's having sex."

"That sounds very kinky. What happens afterwards?"

"That's the best part," he sounded so excited, "The man fucking her finishes and the husband goes down on her."

I felt cheated, "Another man fucks her in front of strangers. Does he use a condom? You never eat me after we've made love. I wouldn't mind you eating me after you cum."

"Really? It wouldn't gross you out?"

"I'm not tasting your cum, you are. You know how I don't like the taste. Sucking you is one thing, but swallowing, yuck. Anyway, then what happens after he eats her."

"We masturbate some more. She tells him to clean her out, to get all of her lover's sperm out. Sometimes she makes him clean her lover's cock with his mouth after he eats her, to get him hard, so he can fuck her."

"Two climaxes in one night? That never happens when you're with me. You're usually snoring within a few minutes."

"I know. It's just different. I don't relax after I've cum watching them."

His next statement sounded a bit boastful, "Sometimes I've cum five times while watching."

"Five?" I asked in disbelief. "Your little penis must be raw."

"It can be pretty sore, but it's worth it."

"After everyone is finished you talk about it."

"Yeah. There's usually time to kill before the next couple comes in."

"Where did you tell me you were going?"

"Rome, New York."

"I thought it was a small town. Surely, there can't be that many kinky people there." I almost said perverts, but that would have been judgemental. I wanted to keep the lines of communication between Roland and I open, not shut him down.

"It is, but the bookstore is popular. People come from all over."

"The women have unprotected sex? Don't they worry about getting pregnant or getting an STD?"

"The men are tested. They show their paperwork to the couple to prove they are clean."

"They may be clean, but how do they prevent pregnancy?"

He sounded excited again, "They don't. They want the man to get her pregnant."

I should have been dry, but I was just the opposite, soaking wet. It was very kinky. I just didn't know if I could do it in a roomful of strangers all masturbating while I got fucked. I thought about last night. I had taken a complete stranger home, had unprotected sex three or was it four times, I was pretty tipsy, in my marital bed, with Roland's photo displayed, made him breakfast. He even showered in our bathroom, used Roland's cologne. I wonder if he brushed his teeth with Roland's toothbrush. Later in the day I had used a cucumber to masturbate with as I looked at some of Roland's magazines.

His excitement was contagious. It was good to hear him happy. My anger with him was getting smaller, but I wasn't completely over all the deception.

"Okay. You go to bookstores, masturbate while people have sex, have a secret post office box. Is there anything else you're keeping from me?"

"I don't think so. Wait, I just thought of something. Under the bed on my side."

We had a platform bed with drawers underneath it. I got off the bed and went to his side of the bed and opened the drawers.

"Which one?" I asked.

"The one underneath the nightstand."

"All I see are your t-shirts."

"Underneath the t-shirts."

I pulled them out. Buried underneath was a dildo. A very big dildo. It even had a set of balls. It was black, very detailed to the veins running along the shaft. Next to it was what I thought was a watch case. I opened it.

"What was in the case?"

He sounded evasive, "A piece of jewelry."

Now I'm thinking he has been cheating because he hasn't given me any jewelry in a couple of years. It was a pearl necklace with matching pearl earrings. I remember how much I liked them and how much he liked them. He used to ask me to wear the necklace when we made love, said he liked the contrast with my skin.

"What kind of jewelry? It must be big." I was holding the dildo by the balls and smacking it against my hand. I was thinking how much I'd like to be hitting Roland with that dildo. I just knew he was going to tell me had a girlfriend.

"It's a cage."

"A what?" I asked not knowing what the hell he was talking about.

"A chastity cage. I take it when I travel. I don't wear it all the time. I like the way it makes me feel. It stops me from getting an erection."

"You wear it on your penis? How does it make you feel?"

"Yes. There's a tube that my penis goes in. Submissive."

"Won't it fall off?"

"No, the tube is connected to a ring that goes around my scrotum. It can't come off. Once it's on my penis is very secure."

"Do you like feeling submissive?"

"I do."

"Submissive to me or anyone?"

"To you. Jeanette I only fantasize about this with you. No one else."

I had a wickedly devilish idea. Where's the cage now?"

"In my suitcase."

"Go get it. I want you to put it on."

"I'm hard. It won't go on."

Sounded to me like he was attempting to negotiate a climax before wearing it. Wasn't going to happen.

"Make it soft. Take a cold shower. Whatever you need to do without masturbating. I have an idea. Take your ice bucket. Pour the ice in a towel. Apply it to your erection. You'll get soft and small."

He did sounding very eager to comply.

"It's small," he assured me.

"Good, now put it on. What's to keep you from taking it off?"

"There's a lock with a key."

"Roland, I want you to lock it and to mail me the key."

"I've never worn it more than a few hours."

"So. Now you get to wear it until you get home."

He assured me it was locked and he would put it in the next day's mail.

What I did next really surprised, aroused, and tortured him.

"Now I'm going to try out this toy you've been hiding from me. When did you buy it? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Two years ago. I was afraid to. I thought it might upset you."

"Because it's black or because it's big. Why would a bigger cock upset me? You're the one who should be upset."