Fantasy, Reality and Intimate Love Pt. 02

Beth nodded her head at her own thoughts and anyone watching her would have thought she was getting into the music. But her mind was clear in the fact that she and Allan were forever. He was perfect……….although……….Beth’s mind wandered. Juan! He was a useless shit in bed, a lousy kisser and very rough. Beth wondered why Allan was so keen on her getting it on with other guys, wasn’t she enough for him? Crickey, they’d tried every possible position in the book, they’d done it in a number of outrageous places, they’d shared various porn web-sites together and she’d even acceded to his requests to live out his fantasies. So what was missing?
Beth mentally scratched her head in wonder. She had no idea, she doubted she’d ever be able to understand men and their dodgy hormones! But she questioned her self as to why she had gone along with this unusual behaviour, to live out his fantasy. Beth delved deep into her own psyche and found the answer which she’d known all along. She loved Allan, no matter what and she was happier with this then him going off with some floozie and doing the dirty on her. Beth knew she couldn’t bear to loose him, she needed him so much. She’d do pretty much anything to keep him, to stop him running off with some old tart and, in fairness, she’d given more than she believed was possible. She’d only gone all the way with Juan due to circumstances, she’d never planned to and it had happened as a result of keeping her hubbie satisfied. Which he had watched and not interrupted.
Beth shook her head, hoping the physical movement would dislodge her thoughts. She tried to focus on other things, where was Allan with her Vodka red bull for a start. Still her mind kept wandering back to Juan and how she’d been coerced into being fucked by him.
“Watcha, Im Si. You with anyone, darlin’?” a voice said and Beth turned round to see some short, cocky looking Londoner with tatty jeans and a “Teenage Ninja Turtles” T shirt.
“Yes” Beth said confidently.
“Oh yeah?” the Cockney replied. “Who’s that then?” Beth was aware that the little shit was trying to call her bluff. She saw a bunch of guys a few yards away, all quite stocky and strong framed. Beth nodded towards the group.
“Bromsgrove Rugby squad” she replied in a matter of fact way. “My husband is scrum half and his brother is the hooker”. The cockney’s face paled slightly and to make sure he got the message, Beth waved at one of the group who was looking at her. Of course, dressed as she was, she got a big smile and a wave back.
“I’ll see ya later, then” Si said, skulking away back into the madding crowd. Beth breathed a silent sigh of relief. Thank heavens she knew a bit about rugby. She hated all this six nations stuff but seeing 30 well built blokes running around in shorts had its advantages, she thought to herself.
A few moments later, Allan appeared with the drinks, almost bumping into a couple with punk chains attached to various parts of their bodies, much of it hidden beneath underwear. Beth was delighted that he’d been able to acquire some “E”. They chilled for a bit, taking in the pulsating beat and watching the clubbers dancing, performing actions which, had they been horizontal, might have been obscene. Thrusting hips and gyrating limbs filled the dance floor and as the dance tracks progressed, so did the volume of bare flesh.
Beth grabbed Allan and lead him to the dance floor, strutting her stuff to the beat, her body swaying and her breasts swinging. Beth noticed, not for the first time, the amount of eyes on her and she rose to the challenge.
“If they want a show, I’ll give them a show” she said to herself. It was her husband’s birthday and she wanted to give him a birthday he’d never forget. She’d later realize just how unforgettable this birthday would be for him. But just because it was Allan’s birthday, it didn’t mean she couldn’t have some fun, too.
After 20 minutes, she lead Allan off the floor. The alcohol and “E” were kicking in and she was in overdrive mode.
“You wanna watch for a bit, sweetie?” she asked.
“You think I’m not up for it, Miss funnyfanny” Allan replied, doing his Sean Connery as James Bond impression, his poor Scottish accent actually worse than his Australian accent. Allan and Beth often went into abstract character mode, their humor being on the same level.
“It’s not logical, captain” she replied, her hands by her ears as though impersonating Dr Spock.
“Who you gonna dance with?” Allan replied normally. Beth looked around and saw a guy, flamboyant in his dancing and wearing the same outrageous clothing that the Village People used to wear.
“I want that one” she said in her best “Little Britain” voice, pointing to the gay bloke. Allan smiled, knowing she was 100% safe with this guy.
“See you in a bit” he said, kissing her gently on the cheek. Beth went to walk away but Allan held on to her elbow. She turned back and looked at him.
“You look gorgeous” Allan said. “I love you”. Beth smiled, blew him a little kiss and walked off, her arse wiggling as she went. Allan felt the pangs of loneliness yet the adrenalin rush of erotic excitement. What would tonight bring forth?
Time would tell.
Beth and Allan were loving the night that had had plenty to drink Beth felt free she had loved dancing with Allan and loved the music going on around her. Allan was aware of all the guys looking at his wife. He felt angry at them, they way they ogled her like a piece of meat, flesh to be fucked. She was looking really hot and was turning guys on just by her dancing in the clothing that she wore. Allan felt that maybe she was degrading herself, she deserved better than these animals that were leering at her. She was no easy lay, she was his woman, no-one else’s. Yet he perversely wanted them to ogle her, to desire her, to get a major erection, to feel the need.
And as Allan watched some of the other ladies dancing, he, too had felt some eroticism towards them, but only in the “Blimey, she’s horny” way. Not a “I’d like to fuck the arse off her” way.
How dare these animals behave in that way with his wife. She still wore his wedding ring for crying out loud.
Yet it was the fact that they were leering that aroused him. He wondered if he really was some sort of deranged pervert, wanting to see his wife get off with another guy. Was it normal? His buddy from work seemed to think it was. Allan was half expecting Beth to be inundated with a plethora of lewd comments and maybe that was sick for him to want that to happen to his dearly beloved.. It wasn’t sick, it was hot, it was sexy, it was erotic………
Allan wondered what he had let himself in for and, more to the point, what had he introduced his dear innocent wife to? Yet he felt no guilt at this point, just desire. Was it the “E” kicking in.
“Bollocks” Allan said to himself and walking to the bar. Another drink might help clear his mind of thoughts. His mind wandered back to that evening, less than a week ago, when he’d watched helplessly from the doorway as his dear lovely wife was fucked by this total stranger. He recalled he had felt like being physically sick yet he had not moved, he had stood, rooted to the spot like a rabbit in the headlights on an oncoming truck. He had wanted it to stop whilst, simultaneously wanting it to continue.
Right now, the “E” was in his system and Allan was starting to feel a bit high, the emotional roller coaster no longer an issue. He was chilling out and Allan wondered what life might be like if he hadn’t met and married Beth. He wondered if he’d ever be happy or if he’d be permanently reliant on uppers like “E” to keep him going. Beth had made such a change to his life and now, through his own bloody stupid fantasies, he’d turned his wife into a totally different person and he wondered if he’d be able to love this new “Beth” to the same extent as the old Beth.
“Course I bloody well can” he said to himself under his breath. Why should he worry, she loved him and that was all that mattered. OK, so she’d bonked some stranger, it wasn’t as though it had been behind his back. She may not have known he was there at the time, but Beth would never actively do something behind his back, there was a level of unwritten trust between them. Allan relaxed, his thoughts gaining clarity and he put it down to common sense although he wondered if the “E” had helped him come to these realizations.
Within minutes, any depression or anxiety had disappeared and Allan watched the revelers as they frolicked the night away, enjoying the scene before him, scantily clad women of all sizes (some were absolutely gross!) and guys rising to the bait, hoping the next tune would be the lambarda or some other intimate dance.
“Hiya hunky, fancy a dance” a familiar voice whispered. Allan turned round and saw Beth, her face flushed and sporting a large cocktail of some sort. She smiled at him and he gave her a peck on the cheek. Beth wanted to give Allan much more but Allan shied away, wondering if anyone watching might catch on to their tricks and he wanted to enjoy the evening. If he kept the contact like sister and brother, it might not cramp their style. Beth was beaming all over and Allan could see she was having a great time.
“What have you been up to?” he asked, expectantly.
“I’ve never had so many guys want to dance with me or buy me drinks” she giggled, sipping at her cocktail. “I wonder why that is?” Beth’s eyelids fluttered seductively.
“I don’t suppose the way you’re dressed has anything to do with it, does it?”
“Maybe!” Beth giggled some more. “Everyone’s looking at me and they’re all sporting big boners” she said, leaning forward and whispering in Allan’s ear. “They all want me, they all want to fuck me and it’s turning me on like crazy” she added. Despite the thick smoke in the club and the slight aroma of weed, he could smell her moistness and Allan felt himself join the unofficial boners club.
“You want to play a game, then?” Allan asked tentatively. He hoped she would decline but if she did, he’d feel disappointed. Allan’s pulse began to race and he began to redden in the face, not quite blushing but heated with excitement.
“If you’re up for it, I’m game” she said, her eyes wild and alive. Allan wondered if she’d had any more “E” since before or if someone had been spiking her drink.
Allan suddenly had a brainstorm. He hadn’t a clue where the idea originated from and if it was the by product of the drugs, the booze, the atmosphere or his own wild imagination.
“Give me your hand” he said. Beth obeyed, swaying slightly and Allan had temporary second thoughts about his idea. Beth steadied herself and Allan removed her wedding and engagement rings from her finger and popped them into her clutch bag.
“Here’s the storyline” he said, noticing Beth was looking at him sternly but it was only her trying to concentrate with her mind spinning with alcohol.
“Well, we could pretend your single and that your on holiday with your brother. That’s me” he said, pointing his thumb at his own chest. “You could dance on your own, get flirty with guys that sort of thing.” There was a short pause whilst the information sank into Beth’s intoxicated mind.
“Mmm, sounds good so far. You’d make a ruddy good pimp, you know!” she said, trying to suppress a hiccup. Beth’s mind went off at a tangent, thinking through the scenarios and the fun she could have, toying with the guys, teasing them, leading them on, arousing them, torturing them with the possibility but nothing more than that. With Allan watching from the wings, she’d be safe enough and it’d turn Allan on for certain. He’d have a great birthday getting off watching her, then he’d take her home and punish her with his big stiffy. What a plan, she thought to herself. Add to that, she could control not just these guys but also her hubby, getting him to satisfy her before she permitted him direct pleasures although, just to maintain his interest, she’d give a little back! She wondered how she could be this evil to her own husband but the thought lasted no time at all, the wickedness of the idea and the fun she would enjoy was the stronger emotion. She could feel herself getting wet at the idea and the thought of Allan watching her cavort with a bunch of strangers, many of which were barely clad made Beth even more excited.
“Will you be watching?” she asked, her voice taking on an element of sultriness.
“You bet!” Allan responded, excitedly. Another live show of his dear lovely wife wearing almost nothing dancing and partying with all the other folks was about as good as it could get. Beth could see the excitement in his eyes and she grinned, knowing she would be able to deliver, she would be able to give her hubby a show he’d remember and, provided he didn’t get too pissed or stoned, he’d repay her later between the sheets. Yes, this was going to be one hell of a birthday.
“You know the rules?” she said in a commanding tone. “I have my phone but you mustn’t interrupt, you understand?” she said, not waiting for Allan to respond. Allan nodded slowly.
“Shit! That’s going to drive me nuts!” Allan said. He looked disappointed but he knew there was little point arguing. He’d made the suggestion in the first place and Beth had agreed, willingly not reluctantly. He guessed it was only fair that he acceded to her simple request.
“OK!” he said, resignedly, a veil of red mist in his eyes. “But we’ll keep in contact by text, OK?”. Beth nodded in agreement although Allan was not overly sure if she was just nodding in her slightly stoned, slightly pissed state.
“Good. See ya later!” she said, wiggling her fingers as a goodbye, blowing him another little kiss as she turned to walk off. She stopped briefly and said “See if you can find me!” and gave him a sly little wink before running her fingers through her hair in the seductive way that she had.
Allan watched her as she disappeared into the crowd and wondered if it were the drink or the shoes that made her so unsteady. Hell, she was driving him crazy, he wanted her all to himself yet he wanted to share her, he wanted to see other guys thinking they were doing great with her only to find she’d leave them and spend the night with him and only him. Although……..visions of her and Juan flitted into his mind and he felt the stirrings in his loins. Allan closed his eyes and blinked incessantly for a few moments until the image dissipated.
Allan regained his senses and, seconds later, he saw Beth on the dance floor, a gaggle of guys around her, one in particular was a tall slim guy with a shaved head and a spiders web tattoo over his eyes. Allan watched with interest, forgetting about the fire water in his glass, totally engrossed in the spectacle before him. He noticed Beth’s shapely legs as she strutted on the floor and how well toned they were, not least from the amount of exercise they had pulling and pressing on his own thighs, pulling him deeper into her. Those legs brought on a thousand fond memories and Allan watched, his jealousy tinged with a little sadness but laced with perverse pleasure. He tried to convince himself that he was disgusted but passion and lust were the over riding emotions. What the heck was wrong with him, his mind spun more than a political debate as he pondered the consequences of his suggestion which Beth was now executing with clinical accuracy like a Tomahawk cruise missile.
Allan watched the effect Beth was having on him. All of the guys around her bore looks of lust as she danced with them, dancing closer and more intimately than you might reasonably expect even to the fast tunes. Allan shook his head, his body language saying “No” yet his inaction saying “Yes”. He could walk over to the dance floor, take her by the arm and lead her out of the club, into a cab back to the villa and lock the door behind them. Yet he didn’t. And it was this pulling of emotions that drove him crazy. Allan watched on.
Beth was really getting into party mode, she herself uncertain as to her motivation. Was it partly to please Allan who she loved dearly and wanted to please more than anything in the world. Or could it be that she was motivated by the alcohol and the “E”. Maybe, just maybe, she was motivated by her own ego, the ability to create a thousand hard-on’s in a matter of minutes and, dressed like this, she’d achieve her goal in record time.
Beth’s dancing got wilder, throwing her head around and loosing herself in the beat and, consequently, she received lots of admiring looks. Several guys tried to hit on her and Beth was able to handle herself comfortably. One guy had tried his luck, trying to look suave in a white dinner jacket but with tight leather trousers, his bulge accentuated in his attire. Beth had danced with the guy until he’d whispered something suggestive in her ear. Beth was not one to hold back.
“Whatever kind of look you were going for, you missed!” she said, smiling. Her dance partner looked at her, his feelings hurt.
“C’mon baby, let’s get it on, just you and me” he said, trying to be cool.
“Maybe!” Beth said, pausing for effect. “But you’d be in with more of a chance if you had some personality!”
“Whadya mean?” he replied, getting angry.
“You’re not the brightest crayon in the box, are you?” Beth said, running her hand along his chin. “Anyway, I tend not to date outside my own species!” she added, waving a goodbye to him with her fingers and disappearing into the madding crowd, leaving the prospective date aroused and frustrated. Beth enjoyed that feeling of leaving a guy frustrated, wanting her so desperately. God, the power she had over men, it was awesome!
Another guy with a number 3 hair trim and a St George Cross shaved into his head tried his luck, his accent obviously from the West of England, his accent making him sound a little dim, even though he was probably a nice guy. He dressed in a vest top, trying to give the impression he was toned when he was actually a little over weight. “Too many carrots” Beth had joked to herself and named him “Wurzel!”
Wurzel had tried desperately to get Beth to dance close to him, wanting a feel of the soft luscious body but Beth had other ideas. Leading him on was a fantastic turn on for her, noticing his sweating brow and flushed face, adding to the discomfort of the lump in his pants. He had blatantly asked her if she’d go outside with him and give him a blow job (obviously he was not in possession of a VIP pass) and Beth had laughed.
“I wouldn’t waste this make up and clothing on you!” Beth had retorted, enjoying watching the guy squirm.
“No need to be sarcastic!” the guy had replied.
“Oh, sarcasm is the only service I can offer you, sweetie!” she said, turning her back to him and wrapping her arms around the nearest guy she could find, allowing herself to be kissed by the stranger, the taste of cognac on his tongue. When she disengaged, Wurzel had disappeared.
A guy with dark hair with a white skunk like streak (rather like Kevin Pietersen) started hitting on her, dancing next to her, giving her smiles and come-on looks. Beth responded, dancing provocatively close to him, making her breasts sway like balloons in a gale, noticing his eyes fixed to her chest and moving in a hypnotic fashion. He was obviously enjoying the view, the growth within his tight white trousers giving the game away. Beth knew she’d hooked him and now she was reeling him in like an unsuspecting carp, taking the bait. Beth put her arms around the guy, almost like a bear hug, trying to dance slow to a fast track, pressing her firm and erect nipples against the bare flesh of his chest which was visible from his fashion shirt which was tucked in but unbuttoned to the navel.
The guy responded, trying to grab a handful of bum but Beth wriggled a bit too much for the guy to get a good grip. He kissed her neck and whispered things in her ears. Judging by his accent, she guessed he was from Northern Ireland and she subconsciously noted not to make any political statements which might cause friction, like “Which network is your mobile on? Orange?!”