I stood in front of the bedroom mirror, adjusting the delicate golden beads I had woven into the braided tendrils of my dark hair, I couldn't shake the nerves fluttering in the pit of my stomach. Marcus, my husband, sat downstairs, unaware of the whirlwind of emotions churning inside me.
Over the past months He had become enamored with the tantalizing world of "Hot Wife" pornography, a fascination that left me feeling uncertain. At first I indulged him. We'd watch the videos together and I could see how aroused he'd get. Particularly with videos about a "hot wife" as she got fucked by her first bull. But as time went on, I found myself increasingly uncomfortable.
Marcus would openly fantasize about me sharing my body with other men. I was happy with my life as is. My husband, clearly wasn't. Eventually he wore away at my resolve. Finally I gave in.
"Alright, you win," I had said to him one night, "I'll do it." But I laid down some ground rules.
He could pick the guy - I had no interest in that hunt. But our first meeting would be purely social, a polite dinner. Me and him. I didn't want Marcus there to try and force me into a sudden decision.
I expected Marcus to be upset that he wasn't going to be there, but acted like I had just offered him a second Christmas. It only took him a few days to find a candidate. Within a week they set up the dinner date -- and tonight was the night.
With a deep breath, I fastened the bodice around my breasts, the Wasp-waist corset cinching my figure. Hoop earrings swayed gently as I moved, bangles adorning my wrists with a delicate jingle. My sandals whispered against the wooden floor as I made my way downstairs,
I hoped the heavy black eyeliner framed my eyes and gave me that air of mystery.
Marcus was sitting on the couch, a glass of whiskey in his hand. He looked up as I entered the room, his eyes widening in appreciation. "Wow, Elysia" he said, "you look incredible."
I blushed, a flutter of excitement coursing through me. "Thank you," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. "Did you order the car?" I asked.
"Yes, it should be here soon," he replied. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest as we waited for the car to arrive.
"I'm to meet him at the restaurant at 8pm" I said. "Expect me home by 9-9:30, depending on traffic".
The phone chimed that my car was here. I gave my husband a peck on the cheek and left. I walked out of the house, feeling both nervous and excited. The evening breeze was cool against my caramel skin, and on it I could smell a coming rain.
As the car glided through the city streets, I found myself lost in a sea of conflicting emotions. The streetlights blurred into streaks of gold and amber as my thoughts blurred in the darkness of the car's interior. I remember my trembling hands, and the delicate beads in my braided hair catching the dim glow of passing headlights.
Marcus's insistence on diving headfirst into the world of "Hot Wife" fantasies has left me feeling adrift. I replayed the arguments we had, the pleading in his eyes as he begged me to indulge this desire. Now here I was, on my way to meet a man he had chosen for me. As the car pulled up to the restaurant, I took a deep breath and exited the vehicle.
The restaurant was a classy establishment, with dim lighting and plush seating. I walked through the doors, feeling the eyes of the patrons on me as I made my way to the bar.
My senses were teased by the mingling scents of spices and anticipation. But nothing could have prepared me for the sight that greeted me as I laid eyes upon my date for the evening.
Asterius was a sight to behold. His towering height and broad shoulders were accentuated by his impeccable attire, a crisp white shirt and tailored suit that hugged his muscular frame in all the right places. a figure straight out of myth and legend. Literally.
Asterius was not a man. I was staring at creature of ancient myth, the body of a man but with the head of a pure white bull. Horns and all.
I felt my heart skip a beat as he turned to face me, his eyes meeting mine with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. "Elysia," he said, his voice deep and commanding. "It's nice to meet you."
"Minotaur's are not real," I said out loud.
Asterius's surprise flickered across his features as I shook his hand, a hint of amusement dancing in his deep, dark eyes. "You're perceptive," he remarked, his voice a rich baritone that resonated with a magnetic allure.
"Most people wouldn't recognize what I am at first glance."
There was a quiet confidence to Asterius, a self-assuredness that ignited a spark of longing deep within me. He had a kind of sensuality that I've never experienced before. I felt a surge of courage, and I decided to press on.
"I'm not most people," I said, my voice steady despite the tremor in my heart.
"You're not," he replied, his gaze lingering on me in a way that made my skin tingle.
"So, Marcus tells me you're new to this," he said, his voice low and intimate. I nodded, my cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and excitement. "I've never done anything like this before," I admitted.
"Does Marcus know... w-what you are," I asked "Who... I mean..."
"No, I don't think so" he said. "Minotaur's, Fae, Satyrs, and others you call 'myths' have always walked among you humans," he explained, "But most of you are too caught up in your own lives to notice."
"So, you're not a myth?" I asked. "No more than you," he said with a wry smile. "a married woman as beautiful as you, interested in this kind of life" he added, his eyes raking over my body in a way that made me feel both vulnerable and desired. "...that makes you a unicorn in my book"
"Are unicorns real too?" I asked excitedly before getting his little joke.
We talked more over a light meal. I asked about how the stories of the Minotaur said he ate people. He suggested that was an artistic allusion to a minotaur's sexual appetite, not a physical one. "I'm a vegetarian, in fact" he added ordering a light salad.
We had a pleasant conversation about Greek legend over a light meal, and as the last traces of dinner were cleared away, Asterius asked if I'd stay for a drink, and I find myself nodding.