This story contains details of wife sharing so you shouldn't read it if that annoys or offends you.
* * * * * * *
"Well Karen you've got another admirer."
"What do you mean?" I asked warily, replacing my coffee on the table. I was at my local gym having the usual coffee and chat with my friends after one of our regular workouts.
This was a more relaxed conversation than usual because the gym was quiet and there were only three of us – myself, the manageress Denise and my best friend Jayne.
If there had been anyone else present I don't think Denise would have risked teasing me in the way she did. It turned out that the young man who had been in the gym earlier had discretely asked her who the attractive young woman on the cross trainer was. When Denise had told him that the "young" woman was called Karen and she was actually fifty years old it seems he had taken some convincing that was true.
Of course secretly I was flattered, but I played it down and told Jayne that I was old enough to be his mother.
"That's true," she said. "Steve's only twenty two, but he was genuinely impressed with you. Tony had better watch out, you're fast becoming the pin-up girl of the gym."
This was a reference to the fact that Denise and Jayne reckoned that two of the men in our friendship group had the hots for me. I always ignored that suggestion, but secretly I thought it was true.
I knew quite a few people at the gym, but the core of our little group was eight women and three men. All of the men were married and in their fifties. One of them, Carl, had never bothered me. Stuart did seem quite keen on me, but he was a bit of a bruiser and in many ways he wasn't my sort of person. Having said that I have to admit that he had a certain rough charm and could be quite a laugh.
That left Alan who was two years older than me and had aged rather well. Fortunately for him he was one of those men, like Sean Connery, who looked more distinguished as they grew older.
Denise and Jayne certainly teased me about how Alan fancied me and I always denied that was the case. But last week I had got clear evidence that he did. I go to the gym every Monday, Wednesday and Friday morning and when we were having coffee after the Wednesday morning session Alan was there and I had mentioned that my husband Tony was working away until late on Friday.
There's nothing unusual in that as he's a surveyor and his work regularly takes him to different parts of the country. I got a text from Alan on Thursday morning asking if I was at home. Rather naively I simply said yes and he immediately replied inviting himself round for a coffee.
Of course I might have been reading too much into it, but I was pretty certain that if I invited him round he would hit on me. So I replied saying I had a bad headache and couldn't see him.
I hadn't dared mention this to Tony, not because I thought he would be angry, but just the opposite - I thought it might get him excited.
We've been married for nearly thirty years and after we'd been married for several years he started asking me about whether I ever regretted the fact that he was the only man I had slept with. I said no it didn't bother me, but he then asked whether I was ever curious about what a different cock would feel like.
I told him the truth - it didn't bother me and I reckoned one cock was pretty similar to another. I was a very surprised by this line of questioning and asked him whether he wanted me to have sex with someone else. He said no and hurriedly changed the subject.
But a week later he was back with similar questions. This time I wouldn't let it go and eventually he admitted that his secret fantasy was to watch while I had sex with another man. I was pretty shocked by that, not least because I thought men were supposed to be very jealous about their wife's fidelity.
Anyway he said that wife watching or wife sharing (as it's apparently called) is quite a common male fantasy. I made it clear it wasn't going to happen and he seemed to accept that.
Nevertheless it became a regular item of pillow talk for us and although I continued to say no to the reality, as a fantasy it became a regular topic for us. It invariably got Tony very hard and I must admit that I normally found the subject very arousing.
So that was the background to my situation. Fortunately Alan had the sense not to pester me, but he did drop one or two subtle hints. From time to time I did also bump into the young man called Steve who had asked Denise about me. At first we said hello, but then it got to the stage where we normally exchanged a few words. He never made a pass at me, but equally he never spoke to any of the other middle-aged women and I did wonder what would happen if I gave him any encouragement.
Again I didn't mention it to my husband; I could do without his overactive imagination racing away and visualising all sorts of erotic scenarios.
Last year we had had a Christmas night out and it had been a great success so we were all in favour of another one. There had been nine people last time and this year eighteen signed up. I was a bit disappointed that more people were coming along. I didn't know some of them too well and would have preferred last years close-knit group.
Unfortunately Jayne had to cry off when another commitment cropped up. She was my best friend at the gym and I would miss her. I mentioned it to Tony and his comment was that maybe this year it really would be a "little black dress" evening.
Last year all the women had agreed we were going to wear a "little black dress" (or something similar). But when the date got near Jayne had chickened out and opted for black trousers. She's older than me (fifty-seven), a bit overweight and quite strait-laced, so I can understand that she didn't feel like dressing up in a sexy way.
I should stress that we're not talking about anything vaguely sluttish, but something that shows you're a woman and know it. I had worn a black dress which didn't quite reach my knees, black tights (pantyhose I think to American readers) and some ankle high black boots.
The date was set for early December and we were going into York and as last year we planned to visit one or two bars before going on to a nightclub. A few days before the event I bumped into Steve and he said he might well see us in York as he was there with friends that night.
I asked Tony what I should wear because I like to get his opinion. One of the dresses I had in mind was a black one with a lovely glittery gold seam. Even though it goes to just below my knee Tony likes it because of the rather clever fastening which means you only have to pop two buttons and the front opens completely.
As soon as I listed it as a possible Tony was urging me to wear it. I told him that he only liked it because it provided easy access to my body.
"That's not true," he protested. "It's a stunning dress and you look wonderful in it. The easy access is a bonus," he added with a sly smile.
I wasn't surprised when he asked me about underwear because that's an area he always takes a keen interest in. I know some of my friend's husbands don't bother, but I like the fact that Tony still finds me attractive enough to take an interest.
I said I had chosen a black bra and pants set and some lace-topped hold-ups. He approved of that because tights have never been a favourite with him.
I got a bath, then painted my toe and finger nails a temptingly deep shade of red. Tony sat on the bed and watched as I finished my preparations.
"You look gorgeous. Do you think you'll have time to text me this year?"
That was a reference to Tony's request last year for me to text him and pretend that something sexy had happened. I had said I might and I planned to send him one or two texts when I popped to the loo. However on the night I always went with Jayne and didn't like to keep her waiting, so never sent any.
He grumbled about that afterwards and was obviously disappointed, so I was expecting another request this year. I told him I'd think about it, but wasn't making any promises.
The minibus we'd booked arrived on time and we were soon headed into York. We hadn't booked a minibus back, because it was inevitable that some people would leave earlier than others, so we planned to use the local taxis.
Our first stop was the same bar as last year. Denise and Stuart both started putting the drinks away at a rate that I had no intention of matching. In all fairness to Denise she is six foot tall and weighs half as much as me again, so she can drink more than I can without being affected.
In contrast Sarah who was chatting to me is thin as a rail and looks anorexic. She is one of the newer members, but we were joined by Marianne one of the regulars. There's a lot I like about Marianne, but there's also a selfish streak to her, so I'm always slightly wary of her.
As you've probably gathered I was missing my best friend Jayne, but with Stuart acting as cheerleader and urging us on to try out another bar I started to get into a party mood.
The fact that Jayne wasn't there also meant that I drank a bit more than usual. Jayne's not teetotal, but she never gets carried away and that did tend to act as a brake on my own activities. By the time we left the second bar I'd had four drinks and some of the others were well ahead of me.
Stuart and Denise wanted to get to a night club and start dancing; those of us who'd been on last year's outing couldn't wait to see it. I should explain that they're both fairly extrovert characters and what their dancing lacks in technique is more than compensated by their complete lack of inhibition.
In particular when Denise gets on the dance floor anyone in the immediate vicinity is in danger of being injured. To be honest it helps to have a couple of people like that and in no time the whole of our group were on the dance floor and having a ball.
After a while I took a breather and sat out talking to Alan and Sarah. She was rather flustered, having made the mistake of dancing with Stuart, who had picked her up and flung her round in something approaching a wild tribute to Dirty Dancing. We'd all had a good laugh, but Sarah looked rather shell-shocked.
