The Lovers Choice

Not my first story, but my first in this category. Most of my stuff is very different and non-consensual. I envision a second chapter but I write only when the muse tells me to. Please take a moment to comment or criticize. I truly appreciate both and have a thick skin.

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Al and his wife Zoe had been married for almost ten years. For the most part that time had been a good time. They were still in love and regularly exchanged mutual, heartfelt compliments and expressions of their appreciation of each other. Al brought flowers home two or three times a month- always a dozen red roses, or maybe two dozen.

For her part, Zoe devoted herself to maintaining their home and looking after their children, Al Jr., who was affectionately known as "'Bert," and Michael, both of whom were under five years of age- translation: a full-time job all by themselves. She did the laundry, cooked, and kept a neat, clean house. Her role, which she embraced willingly, was virtually indistinguishable from that of a 1950s housewife.

Al kept fit naturally. His job, which paid him well, involved a significant amount of physical exertion and his mid-thirties physique was toned and sinewy. He was no Brad Pitt, but he had a ruggedly handsome aspect about him that turned more than one female head whenever he was in public. Similarly, Zoe, who had been a remarkable beauty in both high school and college, had kept her looks as well. Dual pregnancies had softened, no, matured her figure a bit, but Al still appreciated her remarkable beauty and her ability to get his juices flowing.

And flow they did, once a week like clockwork. Every Saturday night after the kids went to sleep was Al and Zoe's time for lovemaking. Zoe would begin to get ready as soon as she was sure that the kids were finally asleep. She did her hair, applied just the right amount of make-up, and put on one of her "racier" lingerie items. They would share a bottle of champagne and, after appropriate, loving foreplay, have intercourse. By 10:30 or 11 o'clock both would drift off to sleep.

In the occasional quiet moments of private reverie, Al would assess the current state of his relationship with his wife and, for the most part, he knew that he was happy. Every now and then though, he had to admit that his sex life left a little something to be desired. His wife was beautiful, built, and he desired her greatly, but somehow their sex life had pulled over squarely into the right hand lane. Although he appreciated his Saturday nights with Zoe, he knew that he was becoming ever so slightly dissatisfied with sex with his wife. What's more, in his heart of hearts he knew that this had been building inside him, albeit peripherally, for some time. The situation called for action, but what kind of action?

So far as he could tell the problem lay in two main parts. The first part was frequency. He knew that his wife was out straight, busy all the time it seemed, and he did not want to add to her burden. He had heard his friends, guys talking, revealing that they faced similar issues in their marriage. Some complained more than others, but it was clearly a pattern for men his age. He decided that before he would put pressure for more sex on his wife's already overloaded shoulders he would make a conscious attempt to lighten her load, quietly so as not to make her think that he disapproved of the job she was doing. More nights out, with and without the kids, more help in the kitchen- extra dish duty and the like- that was the plan.

The second part of the problem looked to be a bit more difficult to solve. Al had grown tired with the predictability, the entire routine into which their sex life had settled. He began to feel concerned that lovemaking had become just another chore for his wife, comfortably scheduled like twice-a-week soccer-mom duty. He knew in his heart of hearts that Zoe loved him, but he was not so certain that she still desired him. That thought chafed more than a little bit, but he recognized it for what it was most likely to be, his imagination fed by his general malaise. As he looked within he came to understand that his sex problem was more than a scheduling problem. Sex with Zoe, though highly satisfying, had never been particularly creative, and he knew that he was as guilty as her in terms of allowing the sparks to fade. Neither one of them had suggested that they change things to let a little fresh air into their lovemaking.

Al resolved to find a way to break the ice jam. He knew that he would not get unlimited chances to turn the problem around. He did not want to become a complainer. Nothing would deflate his wife more than her husband turning into a nag. No, this had to be a precision strike- a well-planned, one time intervention. All his eggs would go into a single basket. Al just had to decide what, exactly, he wanted the end product to look like and then take the necessary steps to make it happen. What did he really want from his wife?

He knew one thing for sure. He had grown tired of his wife's lingerie. He had experienced every one of the possible combinations of her meager stash of sexy clothing many, many times. Luckily, this was an easy problem to solve and one over which he had full control. He could order new lingerie on line, but his wife was in charge of getting the mail and new packages coming to the house would arouse her curiosity prematurely, possibly thwarting his plan before he could put it into full effect.

No, he would buy her new outfits locally. The mall in the next town had a Victoria's Secret, but he had been in that store a few times, awkwardly standing around while his wife bought new bras or whatever. He was not particularly impressed by the lingerie on display. Although it was certainly not "vanilla," especially when compared to the stuff in Penney's and Macy's, it was more like "French vanilla." "Vicky's" was out.

He went online and discovered that there were smaller, boutique lingerie shops in the city. One even went so far to advertise their "great selection of fetish wear." As he scrolled through the ads, he was impressed at the selection of topless and bottomless pieces, but he was amazed by the number of leather items. The idea of wearing leather to bed seemed a bit "over the top" he thought to himself. Then, as he pictured his wife in various new outfits, leather included, the idea of leather in bed didn't seem quite so far-fetched as he had additionally thought.

That weekend Al told Zoe that he was going out to look for a couple of new power tools but once he was on the road he bypassed both Lowes and The Home Depot as he made tracks for "The Lover's Choice," a boutique lingerie store where he intended to purchase a few new outfits for his wife. Al was self-conscious as he entered the store- sort of half-entering, hesitating. Immediately the sales clerk, a young woman with piercings and wearing a badge that said "Clarisse", said "Please come in, sir. How can I help you?"

"I'm looking for something for my wife, a new negligee or two."

"Do you often shop for this kind of thing or would you like some help or suggestions?"

"Is it that obvious?" he asked with his best "lost little boy" look plastered all over his face.

"Yeah, kinda" was the reply. "Don't worry. It won't hurt a bit. Take a walk around and see what strikes your fancy. Do you know her size?"

"Women's large, I think," Al said. "She's big, but not fat, on the busty side- voluptuous. She's five foot eight, about a hundred forty pounds or so- maybe one-fifty."

"Women's large it is. Do you mind my asking if your wife has any outfits similar to the ones you see here? I'm trying to get a feel for the type of thing she'll like."

"Well, to be perfectly honest, Clarisse, I'm sort of looking for some things I'd like- not for me to wear but for her to wear. Her current collection is out of date. I want her to try something -I don't know- sexier, daring. I want her to open up a bit and maybe try something new," Al confessed.

"No problem," Clarisse chirped. "We get guys like you in here all the time. Take a look around the store; take a few things off the rack and imagine your wife in them. It's that easy, honest. Call me if you have any questions or want a second opinion."

"Thanks, Clarisse," said Al. "I believe I'll do that."

Clarisse had put her customer more or less at ease; she was good at her job. It also helped that Al was the only customer at the moment. While Clarisse busied herself behind the counter, Al proceeded down the rabbit hole to Wonderland. As he fingered through the racks of highly erotic delicate and not so delicate clothing Al had a bit of an epiphany. He knew that he was on the right track. As he lifted a white bustier up for closer examination he allowed his mind to wander. He could see Zoe filling out the piece. She looked perfect. Immediately, he could feel an erection coming on. He turned his back to the clerk and adjusted his crotch to free up room for his growing cock. Then he left the bustier on top of the rack. It was definitely a keeper.

For the better part of an hour Al strolled through the boutique selecting a few additional outfits for consideration. As his journey led him towards the back of the store he noticed a side room which was veiled by a curtain of beads which hung close enough together to obscure sight but which were no impediment to entry. He stepped through the curtain. What he saw was a dozen or so mannequins each dressed in leather fetish wear and posed in submissive positions. The outfits ran the full gamut from revealing leather and steel-studded brassieres to full leather suits complete with leather hoods. Along the walls were all kinds of leather accessories- collars, cuffs, blindfolds, even whips and chains.

It was a combination of sensory overload and, for lack of a better way to put it, culture shock. Al turned around and there stood Clarisse. "I see that you've found our little dungeon," she said calmly. A tiny smile came to her lips. "See anything you like?"

"I had no idea," was all Al could say as he processed the scene in front of him. "People actually buy this stuff?" he asked.

Sir, this is a small store. We cannot afford to stock merchandise we can't sell," Clarisse answered.

"Who wears this kind of stuff, anyway?" was Al's response.

"People wear it, sir," she said calmly as if this line of questioning came up every day which, of course, it pretty much did. "People like you and me. The attraction to leather clothing crosses all boundaries- young, old, male, female, gay, straight; it crosses all boundaries. Unless I miss my guess, it attracts you as well. After all, look where you are. I followed you in here. You led the way, not the other way around. I'll tell you what;" she said, "you picked out some very nice items out there. How about you purchase some or all of them and I'll include an introductory DVD which might allow you and your wife to stick your toes into the water a bit. I know lots of couples who live completely normal everyday lives, but who enjoy this kind of role play in the privacy of their own bedrooms. There are even clubs which cater to the leather lifestyle. Those are a real trip."

"This is a lot to take in," Al confessed.

"I know," said Clarisse, "but you've already taken the first step by coming here. If you take it slow and make sure that your wife is comfortable with some exploration, you may just find that you've discovered a whole new world together. It happens."

"I think that I'd like to add a couple of items from in here before I pay up. I might as well take my best shot. My wife would look great in almost all of these."

Al paid for the items in cash. He did not want his wife opening up the credit card bill and questioning him about the expenditure. Valentine's Day was a week away and he decided that that would be as good a day as any to take the first step on what he hoped would be a new beginning for Zoe and him.

As Al made the arrangements the week passed, but slowly. First, he convinced his mother, who knew from experience that the couple could use time away from the children, alone time, to agree to take the children for the weekend. Then he made reservations at a quiet intimate restaurant that he and Zoe had frequented before getting married but had not been to in years. He chose two outfits from his stash and wrapped them in two different boxes with tissue paper, red wrapping paper, and a bow. As he wrapped he kept thinking to himself that these were truly "gifts which would keep on giving." He arranged for two dozen red roses to be delivered to his house on Saturday which was St. Valentine's Day proper.

In the meantime he watched the DVD that Clarisse had given him. It was a kind of a video instruction manual. The narrators, who were attractive and slightly younger than his wife and him sat together on a couch in a living room, presumably their own, and began by discussing the basics of the dominant/submissive lifestyle. They explained that the underlying principle was trust. Each had to trust the other that agreed-upon boundaries would not be crossed, although they added coyly that part of the excitement associated with "The Lifestyle" was in approaching those boundaries as closely as possible. Both cautioned that for new adherents it was usually best to begin slowly, with one partner taking the lead and guiding the other gently into their new role.

The couple in the video explained that both partners had to be comfortable in their roles. Al thought about this and decided that he saw himself as the dominant and that made Zoe the submissive by default. It would be up to him to convince his beautiful wife to at least give it a try. That was all he could reasonably ask of her.

Zoe was delighted that her husband had taken it upon himself to plan a special weekend for the two of them. The kids were already at their grandparents' house and she had just finished showering. It had been a while since she and her husband had had an entire weekend together without Bert and Mike. It was Valentine's Day and she understood that her husband had gone to a lot of trouble to arrange the night out. It was Saturday night as well and Saturday night was their night. She would make the effort look her best for her husband.

As she stood in front of her full-length mirror Zoe took stock of the woman gazing back at her. Like many women her age, she looked for signs of aging first. Her make-up was light and strategically placed to cover her "flaws." She could still see the tiny crow's feet that had begun to radiate from her deep blue eyes and for a moment, she felt her age and the weight of her world, but the moment passed and she went back to her self-examination. She'd done her own hair and she had to admit it did look good. Her long blonde hair had always been one of her best features. Zoe knew that Al especially loved her hair. So far she had yet to notice any grey strands. The flaxen curls flowed to cover her shoulders as they ran down her back. She smiled.

It was February 14th and it was cold and wintery outside. Zoe wasn't sure which outfit to choose. The restaurant they would attend was neither super fancy nor a dive, so her options were open. It came down to a choice of neckline and whether or not she wanted to show cleavage. Her bosom had always been ample, and normally she dressed to downplay this feature, but tonight was going to be special and romantic. Zoe decided to make the daring choice and chose a sweater with a plunging neckline to wear beneath her pants suit. The choice of the V-neck necessitated that she wear a demi-bra to avoid showing straps. All of her regular bras had substantial straps. They needed them, given the size of the load they were to confine and shape. No problem; she had just the answer, purchased at Victoria's Secret a few months ago on a whim. It was both strapless and a push-up so she knew that when she put it on and then covered it with a ribbed V-neck sweater the effect would be strong.

It was. When she finally descended the stairs to join her husband who stood there ready with her coat she noticed his eyes light up with approval. "Zoe," he said "you have never looked more beautiful than you do tonight. Will you be my valentine?"

"Yes, Al," she replied, "tonight I'm yours."

Al fished through his coat pocket and said "wait a minute, Zoe. I left my keys upstairs." After a minute, he was back in the front hall saying "You are incredibly beautiful. I love you so much."

Dinner, though nice, was uneventful and they were home by 9:30. As they walked through the front door, Al took his wife's coat and hung it up in the downstairs closet while Zoe went into the kitchen to retrieve their traditional bottle of champagne. He shut the door and met her at the bottom of the stairs. Her arms went out to her sides as he put his behind her and pulled her in tight. His lips met hers and the kiss was long and deep, the kind that wordlessly expresses both abiding love and deep desire. They ascended the stairs and entered the bedroom.

On the bed were two wrapped packages, surreptitiously placed there by Al when he was "looking for his keys." "And what might these be, Valentine?" Zoe asked.

"Well, Zoe, tonight is a very special night. I thought that a special occasion warranted a new outfit. I would like you to choose which one you'd like to wear tonight. Unwrap them both and make a choice or, if you want, unwrap just one and save the other for later."

Zoe took off her suit coat revealing for her husband her tight fitting sweater top which clenched her torso tightly and left absolutely nothing to the imagination. As she bent over to retrieve one of the boxes Al reached over and grabbed his wife's left breast, giving it a substantial squeeze and pulling her closer to give the beautiful blonde a passionate kiss. "Honey," he said, "you are the most beautiful creature on Earth. I love you without qualification."

Zoe could tell that Al meant what he said and her body signaled her approval as she felt a slight shudder at the strength and uncharacteristic boldness of her husband's touch. She knew that her sweater choice had been the right one.

For a moment they kissed again and then Zoe sat up and began the process of unwrapping her gift. Once the red paper was off, she put the box on the bed, lifting the top to reveal red tissue paper underneath. When she peeled back the tissue she hesitated for a second as she saw white fishnet stockings with a matching white garter belt. Nestled on top was a white thong. Zoe held the matching pieces up for closer examination, shook her head ever so slightly, and said, "Wow." She smiled and put them on the bed and then reached in, peeled back some more tissue, and withdrew the white bustier. Her face took on a look of astonishment as she held up the restrictive lacy garment. She flipped it around to see the long laces in the back which were used to cinch it up. She looked at her husband who had been watching her closely to gauge her reaction and said, "Well, Al, if I choose this one, I'm going to need your help getting into it."

Al's face lit up as he let out a long breath before saying "It would be my pleasure. Do you like it?"

"I can't say that I saw it coming, Al, but it's a beautiful outfit and I will gladly wear it for you," was her reply. "Shall I open the second box now?"

Al had staked everything on her reacting exactly as she had. He decided to go to the second, riskier phase of his plan. "Honey, let's have some champagne before you open the second box. I'll pour." Al turned to the chilled bottle and glasses on the night table, popped the cork, and filled the two champagne flutes as he had done every Saturday night since he could remember.

When he turned back towards his wife she was examining the bustier more closely. In addition to the long white laces in back she could see a series of ten or so hooks up the front. "This is quite a set, Al," she said. "It's really quite beautiful."