Across That Line

Brad's mouth was suddenly dry. His barelegged wife came closer and his breathing grew short and fast.

"Sugar..." Ashley whispered softly, "if I...wiggle everything...will you make love to me all night long?"

"Oh, Godyes," Brad responded hoarsely. Ashley smiled and unbuttoned one of the two buttons and moved between her husband's knees.

Late in the night, as they lay with their bodies entangled, Ashley cooed, "I've got what all those girls wanted today, my darling precious husband. I've gotyou."

While she continued to tease her husband with the hot-button phrase for weeks, it had lost it's sting and its meaning had been transformed. In fact, he welcomed it whenever he heard it from that night forward.

# #

Saturday night, they wandered into the dimly lit hotel lounge after a satisfying steak and lobster dinner in the dining room. There were several other couples there, a cluster or two of young women, and several small groups of young men. The women appeared to be young office workers having some after work drinks before they went home. The men were mostly in business attire with their ties slightly undone to show their rebellious natures.

After ordering drinks from the overworked waitress, Brad and Ashley waited quietly, holding hands and listening to the piano player run through his repertoire of old piano classics. The pianist didn't have any spectacular skills, but the music was pleasant enough. Ashley patted Brad's hand to get his attention.

"I gotta go to the little girl's room," Ashley said, patting his hand to get his attention.

"Sit!" she ordered him when he would have gotten up. One of the things that had intrigued Ashley when she first met him was his manners. She'd been amazed to find they were automatic and never contrived.

"Yesma'am," Brad replied, grinning. He settled back and stretched his legs under their table while he watched his wife thread her way through the tables to the restrooms.

Ashley was wearing a black halter dress Brad had picked out for her in a fancy store on the Riverwalk a couple of days before. The thing had a deep v-neckline that showed off Ashley's figure very well. The smooth fabric fell smoothly over tummy and hips to a very low waistline where there was an inch-wide hem, several inches below the point of her hips. From there, a series of what looked like sheer, black scarves to Brad fell in layers to a point a few inches above her knees.

Ashley said it was a "handkerchief hem," which meant nothing to Brad. To explain his position in the matter, he adapted an old saw about not knowing what "art" was, but he knew what he liked...and heliked this dress. The "scarves" swayed from side to side in time with Ashley's hips as she made her way around tables arranged haphazardly around the interior of the lounge.

He enjoyed watching her. She was a well-built and earthy woman. He'd thought when he first met her she resembled the singer Enya to a high degree. A month ago, while watching an old John Wayne movie about a boxer in Ireland, he decided his wife was the spitting image of a young Maureen O'Hara...with better legs.

He smiled at the memory, then frowned. His eyes narrowed as he watched the effect his wife was having on one of the tables of young men. They'd broken off their conversations and were watching Ashley closely until she disappeared behind the concealing wall guarding the door to the ladies restroom. One of the guys had held his drink suspended in mid-air the whole time. Now he put it down and drew in a great breath for a long sigh.

A movement to his right made Brad look that way. Apparently, it wasn't just one table of men who'd been entranced with his wife. It seemed all three tables of males he could see were similarly affected.

"Eat your heart out," he yelled silently to them, letting a wolfish grin come to his lips. "She's mine and you can't have her."

A few minutes later, the grin turned to a snarl as he watched Ashley move almost sensuously though the small spaces between the bar tables on her way back to him. The men watched just as intently as they had before. This time, they also made a show of nudging each other with their elbows and leaned toward their friends to make low-voiced comments to each other.

Brad's lips tightened when he saw the exhilarated flush on Ashley's cheeks. It seemed to Brad she made a slight detour to travel a couple of table closer to one of the tables than she absolutely had to. Her hips were sashaying from side to side just a little more than they had when she left Brad's side...he could see that clearly.

Brad got to his feet when Ashley was a few feet away. He stretched out an arm to pick up her chair and lift it in the air before moving it away from the table. While Ashley sat and slid her own chair closer to the table, Brad remained standing for a few seconds...trying to give the impression he was looking to see where the waitress was and what she was doing. She still hadn't brought them their drinks. Ashley looked up at him and smiled.

"Staking out your territory, big guy?" she asked him in an amused tone. Brad glanced at her. He wasn't smiling.

"Do I need to?" he asked bluntly. Ashley's face fell. She folded her hands on the tabletop and studied her painted fingernails for a moment.

"I'm sorry," Brad said at last. "I really am...but those men were beginning to figure they might have a chance with you when you smiled at them. I didn't like what they were thinking...I didn't like them undressing you in their minds. It kind of got to me when you smiled right at them...sorry."

"Brad, honey," Ashley said after a bit. She reached out to put her right hand on his. She could feel the tension in him.

"Honey, look...men have been watching me since I was twelve-years-old. I can't stop them.You know that. If I started carrying a gun and took potshots at them every time they looked my way, they'd still do it, wouldn't they?" Brad nodded reluctantly. She was right, but...

"Ash...it's not that...not completely. It's how you acted when you saw them watching. You smiled right at them and walked a little sexier...and for a little bit there, you gave them the show they were looking for. You know what I mean?"

The waitress finally brought them their drinks and Brad paid her, tipping her far more than the service was worth so she'd go away quicker. She went, showing him a tired smile. She had more customers this evening than she could handle.

"Yeah," Ashley sighed after a while, "I know what you mean...and you're right, Brad, Idid like the attention and I know exactly how to put a little more into my walk than God intended. Ilike to do that, honey. I admit it." She tried to explain.

"Honey, it's kind of like telling them, yeah...I'm onehell of a woman, and don't you forget it...and I'm sayingeat your hearts out, boys...you ain't never gonna get a piece of this 'cause Igot my man..."

Her voice trailed off and faded into nothing.

Brad jumped a little when his wife echoed the words he'd used in his silent declaration to the roomful of men earlier. Sometimes he believed Ashley could read his mind. The similarity in the words they'd used brought him up short. He let out a deep breath and took in another.

"Yeah, Ido know what you're saying, Ash, honey," he said in a lighter tone. Ashley looked up hopefully.

"I'm really, really, sorry," Brad apologized, bringing his wife's right hand up and kissing her fingertips. "Sometimes, I forget and a little jealousy sneaks up behind me and whups me up alongside the haid...know what I mean?"

He grinned at his wife. She smiled back. They listened to the piano as the pianist belted out a livelier tune.

"You do it too," she told him, leaning close to whisper in his ear. Brad was astonished.

"I do what?"

"Look at women...and enjoy them looking back," she explained.

"I donot!" Brad said hotly, trying not to raise his voice.

"So your eyes didn't wander all over that group of college girls on the Riverwalk the other day, sweetie? You didn't tune out the ones who looked like they could play linebacker for the Cowboys and let yourself imagine what some of those cute ones looked like under those floppy warm-ups? You didn't smile just a little nicer to the pretty little waitress in that sandwich shop where we had lunch yesterday than you did to...oh, say the wrinkled old lady in the restaurant a little while ago?"

Ashley's voice had taken on an edge, but not for the reason Brad thought.

"I..." he said and stopped to go back over the things Ashley had brought up. He sipped at his bourbon for a little more time.

"I guess I might have...a little," he admitted cautiously. His wife snorted.

"Well..." Brad began an explanation of what he meant but he realized he was very close to whining. He hated that.

"Well, I didn't make my hips go back and forth like that and..."

"Only because youcan't make your hips go back and forth," Ashley retorted before Brad could finish. Brad shut up and considered. This was getting out of hand. He didn't want to argue with his wife and he'd already given up and agreed with her...as much as he could anyway.

"Brad, honey," Ashley said, "would you go to the bar and get us some napkins?"

"Sure, hun," Brad answered. He welcomed the break. Maybe it would give them both enough time to squash thisdiscussion back in its hole.

He stood and adjusted his pants so they hung just a little better from his waist. Ashley had gotten them for him the same day he pointed at the little black dress in the store and told her he wanted her to buy it.

Passing one of the groups of young women, he glanced down and nodded when one of the women locked eyes with him. He saw she had on a sky blue blouse with at least one more button unfastened than a good boss would have allowed in the office. He couldn't see anything below the waist, but her upper body was trim enough.

"Yes sir..." the bartender said, returning the smile Brad had on his face as he approached. "What can I get ya?" he asked.

"Just a few napkins, if you can," Brad replied. "The ones we have are a little damp."

"You bet," the man replied, pointing to a stack of cocktail napkins just to Brad's right. "Take all you need."

Brad thanked the man and thumbed a half-dozen or so off the stack. When he turned, he found he could see just enough under the table where the girls were sitting to confirm his impression the young woman who'd caught his eye did indeed have some nice legs. When he took a moment to arrange the napkins, the woman casually crossed one leg over the other. In the process, a lot of thigh that hadn't been in view before suddenlydid become visible. His curiosity satisfied, he was ready to move on.

He walked casually back to his and Ashley's table, taking care not to take any notice of the women, and in particularthat woman. He had to dodge when a couple abruptly rose from a table he was passing, but he managed it without dropping the napkinsor running into the attractive early-thirties woman who stood so suddenly in front of him.

He dropped the napkins on the table, handing one to Ashley. She didn't take it for a moment. Looking down to see what the problem was, he saw her wide grin.

"What?" he asked apprehensively. This couldn't be good.

"Youdawg!" Ashley commented without heat. She pulled her husband down beside her and shifted in her chair to slide a trifle closer to him. This was nobody's business but theirs. She captured his left arm in her two and hugged it close.

"Does she have good legs?" Ashley asked her husband.

"Who?" Brad answered. His wife pinched his forearm.

"Ouch!" he complained. "Quit that..."

"Then don't fib," Ashley said calmly. "You know who I mean...that bottle blond with the bedroom eyes and a miniskirt that got four inches shorter all of a sudden.Now...does she have good legs?"

"Maybe," Brad muttered. Ashley's fingers moved on his arm. "Okay...okay...yes," he said in a loud whisper. "Geeze!"

"Very good, husband," Ashley purred. "Now...which of the girls to her right or left is the most attractive?" Brad looked down at the long fingernails on his wife's right hand.

"Left..." he admitted glumly. Ashley giggled.

"So youdo check out other women...even when I'm here, right? It's almost automatic...wouldn't you say, love?"

"I guess...sorta," he murmured quietly. "But I never had any intention...wait...don't do that...andneither did you," he finished carefully. "Okay...I get it," he sighed.

"Good boy," Ashley said by way of congratulation. "Now...sweetie pie, honey bun...what is different about the outfit I got you Tuesday from the ones you normally buy?"

Brad was at a loss. He usually wore short-sleeved pullovers when he wasn't at work and that was what he was wearing now. His trousers were about the same...he often wore blue jeans at home, but when he wore anything a tad more formal, it was a pair of pants like this.

"Well, pretty much no difference," he began slowly. Ash's fingers were twitching restlessly on his arm. "Well...the pants are a little...this isn't any criticism, hun...it's not your fault...but they're a little tighter than I'd have bought, and..."

"Very good, sugar," Ashley complimented him. "And how many tailored pullovers do you have?"

"You did thaton purpose?" Brad demanded. "I mean...my pants, not the tailored...you meant to buy them that way?" Ashley giggled and patted his hand.

"Brad, honey...listen...you have a cute little butt and really scrumptious thighs, big guy...and, guess what, I like to see you in clothes that show that off." She grinned at her husband's expression.

"And..." she said before he could frame a comment one way or the other, "I got that shirt tailored because you havesucha nice, manly shape from your shoulders down to your waist and Ilove seeing your chest muscles under your shirt."

Brad sat stunned.

"Just..." Ashley said, "like you love seeing me in a hot little black dress that shows off my boobs and my legs and looks like the modern version of that seven veils thing in the Bible...don't you?"

Ashley smiled at the changing expressions that crossed her husband's face. Finally, he just nodded.

"Now..." she said in a conspiratorial voice, "do you want to hear how much those girls liked it when you moved so gracefully...like a panther...yes, you did...whether you realize it or not. You moved soooo smooth around those tables and when you dodged that couple who got up so quick. Did they call you "swivel hips" back when you were in college, sugar? No? Boy, they should have. You could a' been a star runner back...running back with those moves, honey."

All the time she was shooting questions at Brad, Ashley was looking deep into her husband's eyes. Satisfied with what she saw, she sat back and picked up her drink. "Kind of different when it's on the other foot, huh?" she asked Brad. He winced.

"I didn't know I was doing all that...and I didn't know you wanted me to dress differently," he muttered.

"Well, you know now," Ashley whispered animatedly. "Now...you have the balls to admit it was kinda fun, wasn't it, sugar? You ready to tell me you could do that and still not haveanythought in your brain of hooking up with her?" she challenged.

Brad took a deep breath. He glanced over at the table of girls and caught the blond looking back. He didn't want her...would never know her name, in fact. But it was a nice confirmation of his manhood thatshe noticed him...and might even wanthim. He prided himself on his honesty and integrity in everything he did. Letting some of the breath out, he nodded, then shook his head.

"I guess it was...maybe some...but no, the idea of hooking up with Blondienever occurred to me," he said truthfully.

Ashley smiled and leaned in for a long kiss.

"Staking out your territory, sexy lady?" Brad asked.

"Damn straight," Ashley whispered. "That girl better keep her hands toherself, by God."

# #

An hour later, on the way back up to their room, Ashley yanked Brad's head down to hers to kiss hungrily. She pressed her body against his, rubbing her breasts all over his chest and grinding her groin into his.

"Honey," he protested, "they probably have a security camera in here somewhere...and what if someone gets on, on the next floor?"

"I don'tcare if anyone sees I want my man," Ashley retorted. She reached behind her neck and untied the straps that held the top of her dress up. Before Brad could say anything, she dropped them and let her titties dance and jiggle for her husband's pleasure. Indeed, he couldn't resist cupping them and running his thumbs over the already erect nipples.

Ashley moaned and leaned back to give him more room to weigh her breasts in his hands. Her hand slid between them to fondle his penis. It was already tumescent and growing still harder by the second. Her breath quickened.

They felt their private little room jerk a little. It was preparing to stop.

Ashley snatched the front of her dress up and whirled around. Brad tied a quick knot in the straps and managed to get his hands back down before the door opened fully. He was sure the two older couples hadn't had enough time to see what he and Ashley were doing.

The two couples greeted them politely and appeared not to notice anything amiss. When they were leaving though, one of the ladies turned and grinned. With a twinkle in her eye, she motioned vaguely at her left breast, then turned away to catch up with her husband.

Ashley looked down to see her swift attempt to cover up had only been partly successful. Her left boob was hanging out of her dress for everyone to see. She broke up laughing and turned to show Brad. He joined her with hearty chuckles after a second's hesitation.

In the room, Ashley dropped the new dress on the floor and ripped her stockings off, hardly pausing to unstrap her high heels. When she finished getting her clothes off scant seconds later, she feverishly unbelted Brad's pants and pulled them to the floor along with his briefs. Impatiently, she waited for him to kick his shoes off, and toss everything else in a pile by the dresser. He never knew how he got his socks off...they were just suddenly gone.

They tumbled to the bed. Brad pinned her beneath him and dipped his head for a long lover's kiss. Ashley moaned.

"Honey," she panted, "I need you in me...now...baby...fuck me hard, okay? Do me real hard," she demanded. "Fuck me like a bitch whore," she screamed.

She groaned as her husband swung over her and spread her legs wide.

"Now, honey," she insisted again, "fuck menow!"

Brad did his best to comply. He thrust his cock into the thoroughly excited woman and plowed her hard and fast. There was no love to it. They were fucking, they were two animals in a rut that had no art and no compassion.

Brad came three times before midnight and twice afterward. He hadn't known before tonight he actually could do that. Ashley climaxed several times to each of his. It was as if this was a long needed release and she couldn't stop until the need was purged.

Long after Ashley fell into an exhausted sleep, Brad lay awake staring at the ceiling. He was satiated, but he was troubled.

Chapter 5

When they returned home after their "honeymoon," some of the intense excitement Ashley felt that evening stayed with her and their sex life improved enormously. She clearly had enjoyed the flirting...and even more...the chance to get it out in the open.