tagNon-EroticGames People Play

Games People Play

byThe Wanderer©

I thank my LadyCibelle and Techsan for their patience, proof reading, editing skills and of course encouragement. I'd also like to add that we don't always see eye to eye, they tell me off sometimes - well quite often really. Add to that, that I can't leave a story alone and play around with it once its been returned by them. Anyway I take full responsibility for the content and any cock-ups in this story.

Games People Play

I'm not sure when it started really. Jo and I had been married twelve years the previous Easter. Somewhere during those twelve years we'd started the old fantasy sex lark. You know, we'd dress up and pretend to be different people. I'd been everything from Tarzan to Robert Redford. Come on, this all happened a few years ago, before all these youngsters on the films today were even out of nappies. If it hadn't been so long ago, I doubt I would be able to talk about it now. Shit, it did my head in for a good few years.

Let's start at the beginning. I met Jo (Josephine) on a blind date. I hadn't been living in town that long at the time and some guy – Reg, his name was, I think - at work asked me to go on a double date with him. Apparently he'd been working on getting a date with this bird for sometime, but she'd only go out with him if he brought a mug along for her roommate.

Oh, I termed myself a mug on this one. I'd been conned into blind dates a few times before in my life. Shit, on every one of them the bird I'd been lumbered with had turned out to be either a dog, or a bleeding nut-case.

You know, once I had spent a whole evening with some bird who was a bloody born again Christian, I couldn't get away from her. I was climbing the bleeding walls by the time I got home that night. And I had to hide out for the next couple of weeks until she gave up on the idea of saving me and found some other mug to pester.

Anyway, Reg (I'm sure that was his name) and I met these two girls in a local pub. I've got to admit Jo was definitely not what I had been expecting. Reg's girl was a real plain Jane next to Jo. But it turned out Jo was very shy. Bloody hell, by the end of the evening I counted myself lucky she'd let me hold her hand.

No word of a lie man, it was my fifth date with her before I got my first proper kiss. Damn, that was something new for me; normally I'd be looking for at least a blow job by the third date. There I was four dates in; a good few pounds out of pocket and all I'd got was a peck on the cheek for my trouble. As I say, on our fifth date Jo deigned to give me a proper kiss.

You know, I really was wondering why I was still hanging around. Hey, I wasn't a bad looking bloke and I'd had no trouble with girls before Jo. I usually reckoned to have them in bed by the forth or fifth date at the latest. Well, there could only be one explanation, and of course that was, I'd fallen in love with the girl. Not something I'd planned.

Looking back on it now, I think I finally realise what the attraction to Jo was. I'm damned sure it was her complete unadulterated naivety. Jokes about sex went completely over her head and Jo saw evil in no one. How the hell she'd gotten through life up to the point where she met me without losing her cherry, I'll never be able to understand. I can only put it down to her shyness that kept her safe.

Anyway, very quickly my whole life changed until it revolved around Jo. She dragged me down to meet her family after we'd been dating for about four months. Oh, God, her father turned out to be a Methodist preacher and her mother... No, lets leave her mother out of it for the time being. Jo's older brother was a bloody poof, if ever I saw one. And somewhere or the other, there was a younger sister, but no one seemed to want to talk about her.

It also could be that her father's devotion to religion caused the strange trust that Jo put in the funniest people. Well, she went out with me, didn't she? Jo seemed to think that if anyone said they were or were not going to do something, then their word was set in stone. That was to prove her, or rather my, downfall.

Well, I'm a normal guy, I think. I don't really trust any bugger, and I also lose my temper a little on the quick side. And if I get worked up about something, I've been known to cut off my own nose to spite my face, on more than one occasion.

Right, ten months into the relationship we were engaged. No, that wasn't in my master plan. I was only twenty-one at the time, and after seeing the mess some of my mates had made of their lives, I had no intention of even thinking of getting tied down until I was at least twenty-five, and that was supposed to be my starting gate.

The net result was, twelve months after I met Jo, I walked her up the aisle. Her dad did the honours and the Poof gave her away. Oh and I clapped eyes on Morning Star, actually Tammy, Jo's younger sister for the first time as well.

Tammy or Morning Star as she liked to be called, was what has become known in the last few years as 'a new age traveller'. That boils down to living in a tatty old van, smoking pot and living off government handouts most of the time. Oh, and she invited me into her van to join her for, as she put it 'some way out shit and a good shag' at the wedding reception.

Yeah, and I'm likely to take her up on that at my own wedding day. Christ knows what I could have picked up from her. Mind I might have been tempted in my younger days before I'd met her sister. She wasn't a bad looking girl, if you could get passed that unwashed look.

Jo and I lashed out on a nice little town house. And I think we were very happy together for the first few years. That was when her Ma and Pa weren't about. They had a nasty habit of coming to visit and I really couldn't stomach the Dragon for long.

Things got really iffy for a while when her father was transferred to our town. Because the Dragon would visit her daughter – well, it seemed to me to be - every bleeding day. But luckily for me she would disappear quite quickly when I showed up.

The bleeding Poof used to come around as well for a while. He still lived at home with his mum and dad. I don't think the little shit ever had a proper job, outside hanging around Piccadilly Circus in London that is. I think that's where he earned most of his pocket money. He stopped coming around to our house after he brought his boyfriend along with him one day. The guy felt my arse up in the kitchen, and then the ambulance took him to the hospital. Enough said on that one.

Anyway, when we were on our own, Jo and I got along just great. Once we where married and she tried sex, Jo found she really enjoyed it. I'm not quite sure where or when she got her hands on her copy of the Kama Sutra but she insisted we work our way through every position listed and a couple of others she thought up all by herself. Well, I hope she did!

Hey, with an empty house Jo was ready for it, anytime, anywhere. I drew the line at the greenhouse though, but she made sure we did it there at least once. Late at night, in the dark, at my insistence.

When I got a new company car, Jo insisted we christen it. Front seat, back seat, on the bonnet (hood) and over the boot (trunk). I'm damn sure if the garage roof had been high enough; she'd have had us try on top of the car as well. The net result of all this shagging was that I was a very happy man. Even when her parents called round, I knew that I was going to be fucked to exhaustion once they had left. It was Jo's way of thanking me for putting up with them.

Now as I said, somewhere along the line we started the role playing games. It started out with me, pretending to be this or that actor. Then Jo started dressing up as different actresses from particular roles in films. Yeah, that one and that one. Mind you, I made sure there were no ice picks in the house, just in case. Anyone seen the sequel to that one yet?

Anyway that was soon followed by us pretending that we didn't know each other. That game actually started off when we were on holiday. Jo was waiting in the bar of the hotel for me whilst I ran some stuff up to our room.

When I joined her in the bar, she acted as if she didn't know me. I soon figured out what game she was playing and did the old chatting up bit. Jo enjoyed that game and after that, she played all her different female characters whilst I picked her up in hotel bars.

One day she decided it would be fun to turn the tables and she played a hooker trying to pick me up. We sat there discussing her prices and what she would and wouldn't do. Oh, there weren't very many wouldn'ts. Then we got up to our room and she tried to kill me with sex.

All right, our married life was going along just nicely. Well, I thought it was, next to what I heard most of my mates saying, that is. Jo never had headaches and she became very inventive at the time of the month, most guys would term as the wrong time of the month. Look, I got my rocks off more than once everyday of our married life.

Now you might ask what went wrong, because you know that all good things must came to an end. Well, it was a few months after some new neighbours, the Crosener's moved in a couple of doors away. They were great folks, about the same age as us.

Martin worked in the city somewhere and earned a damn sight more than I did. Kirsty was one fine looking piece of work. She worked in one of the local banks. Oh, I didn't say - Jo worked in a bank as well, but a different one.

Anyway the four of us got on great together to start with. Soon we were going out for meals and were around each other's houses for Bar-B-Q's or even just for the odd drink or two several nights each week. We all flirted with each other nearly all the time. I thought it was just a game everyone was playing, but then things turned a bit funny and I began to believe the game was over.

We'd taken to going dancing together on Saturday nights and it was on one particular Saturday night that I can put my finger on things really started to go wrong.

The two girls were dancing together whilst Martin and I drank our pints and chewed the fat.

Suddenly Martin, whilst watching the girls, said to me, "You know, Ralph, you've got one fine sexy lady there!"

I agreed with him and returned the same complement on his own wife.

"I'll bet she's a killer in bed," was the next statement to come from his mouth and if I'd had my head screwed on right I'd have told him that it was none of his bleeding business. But I'd had a couple of drinks by then and I was proud of my wife and her sexy ways.

"Almost more then I can handle some nights," I replied.

"Kirsty's bloody good in bed as well. She's tried to kill me on occasions."

After that the subject was dropped for a while and we talked of other things. But apparently Martin hadn't finished with the subject. Later he suddenly asked me if I'd ever thought of wife swapping. I told him plainly that that was one pastime I was not the slightest bit interested in.

Look, I'm not as dumb as I look. Kirsty was one sexy looking babe, and I know I'd have had the time of my life with her. But I've got no illusions that I'm a bloody Casanova or anything. Jo, once she had got over her shyness with me in bed, had turned into the greatest lover I'd ever known. Sex was her favourite pastime and I enjoyed it just as much as she did.

But, whereas I had, shall we say, sown a good few wild oats before we were married and I knew what kind of a prize I had, Jo was a virgin when we walked up the aisle. It could be that if Jo spent some time with a different lover, she could find him better than I was. Then I would be in Shit Street.

Martin let the subject drop again. It was while Jo and I were doing our callisthenics in bed that night that she suddenly said to me, "You know, Kirsty asked me a strange question tonight."

Now as I said, I'm not fucking dumb. I knew full well what Jo was going to say next! But, I had to ask. "Oh, what was that, dear?"

"She asked me if I thought that Martin was sexy."

"And you said?"

"I said I thought he was quite handsome. But not as handsome as you."

Oh yeah, and I believed she added the last part; I've got no illusions about my looks.

"And what else did Kirsty say?"

"Um, well, she said she liked you a lot and asked me if you were good in bed. Of course I told her you were good anywhere, when it comes to that. You know Kirsty and Martin don't have sex as often as we do or in as many different places."

"Jesus Christ, girl, you weren't discussing our sex life with Kirsty where you?"

"Oh, Kirsty and I are always talking about sex. You know she wasn't a virgin like I was when they got married. Kirsty had lots of lovers before she took up with Martin and I get the feeling she's had a couple since she's been married to Martin as well."


"Oh, I'll bet she has!"

"What do you mean by that? You like Kirsty, don't you? You're always flirting with her!"

"The same way that you flirt with Martin, but that doesn't mean I would want to do anything other than flirt. Kirsty's a pretty girl, but she's not my wife."

"So you do like her?"

"Look, where is this going, Jo? Just what are you leading up to here?"

Jo looked at me for a couple of moments, then she blurted out, "Kirsty wanted to know whether we could swap partners one evening. I was just wondering what you thought about the idea?"

"Well, what did you think of the idea, Jo?"

I had a nasty feeling that I knew what her answer was going to be.

"Well, I didn't know what to answer her. You know I was a virgin when we married. I love having sex with you, but sometimes I do wonder what being with a different man would be like."

"I thought that was the point of the games we play. I behave like different people. Sometimes I'm all lovey dovey to you and sometimes I treat you like a slut. You know which you prefer. And most of the time that's the part I play."

"I know you play all those different characters, but it's not really the same as being with a different person, is it. You are still you. You know when you make love to me or fuck me, it's still you and me. I just wonder sometimes what it would be like to have someone completely different make love to me. You could make love to Kirsty at the same time."

"But what if I don't want to make love to Kirsty. I've got all I want in you and I don't want any other woman."

"Oh, I see. All right, I'll tell Kirsty you don't think it's a good idea."

"Look, I've got to say this, Jo. I haven't liked this conversation or what you've said to me this evening. I don't think I want to be friends with Martin and Kirsty anymore, and I'd like you to break off your friendship with them as well."

"Don't be silly, Ralph. Martin and Kirsty are our best friends. We can't break off a friendship just like that."

"We can if I think that that friendship is all about Martin getting you into his bed. And that is what I think it is! I've never really had anything in common with him. He's a bloody yuppie pen pusher, whilst I'm just a grease monkey from the local garage to him. I should have suspected something when they became so keen on becoming friends with us."

"Oh, you're being really silly now. Kirsty is my best friend and there is no way I'm going to break off my friendship with her. Once I tell her we're not interested in swapping, she'll never mention it again."

"Yeah, I can see that happening. I think Marty wants into your knickers and I doubt anything will stop him trying."

"Why do you always think the worst of people? Kirsty and Marty just asked. You've... we've said no so I doubt the subject will ever come up again."

Well, I won't go into the rest of the verbal exchange we had that evening. I think from what I've told you already that you can imagine how it went. Needless to say the sex between us was over for that night and there was a bit of an atmosphere for the next couple of days. Jo warmed up in bed the following night but outside bed we hardly spoke.

Oh, by the way I'm not a grease monkey down at the local garage. I'm the workshop manager of a main agent for a well-known Scandinavian Truck and Bus manufacturer.

I was not sure if Jo was still meeting Kirsty during their lunch hours at work, as had become her habit. But we didn't see the Crosener's in the evenings anymore.

The following Saturday night Jo and I went to the cinema after having a nice meal. To be honest, it was nice just Jo and I together like we had been before the Crosener's moved in.

I suppose it was a month later, Jo decided we should have a party to celebrate my birthday. To start with I thought she was trying to get into my good books after our little set to over the Crosener's. But that was before I saw the guest list she'd drawn-up - oh, and I didn't see it until after she'd sent the invitations out. Besides her parents and her bleeding bent brother and his "partner", there were all the neighbours. And of course that included the Crosener's. Jo said that the other neighbours would think it funny if we didn't invite them. I thought she was trying to build bridges. She hated it when I fell out with anyone. Oh, I'm pretty good at falling out with people!

Did I make comment on the guest list? Foolishly, no I didn't. I was too busy trying to build bridges with the woman I loved. I thought, 'swallow your pride, Ralphey, my boy, and try to put up with them all.'

For most of the evening I think I did a pretty good job. Mind you, I did hit the old source a bit harder than usual. Christ, I even danced with the Dragon once. Luckily they didn't stay late, Jo's father had to get home to prepare for chapel the following day. Mind I've got to say, he did actually have a drink that was a first to my knowledge.

Martin and Kirsty were being very helpful. I noted Martin was running the bar for most of the evening. Now that should have made me a little suspicious, but the alarm bells didn't really start ringing until Kirsty brought me a drink. My source of choice is rum; not any rum, but Hicks Special as supplied by our local brewery. Now this stuff is 125% proof and I tend to drink more of it than is really good for me. Well, stupidly I had that night.

The point I'm about to make is that I know the stuff better than I knew my Mother's milk when I was a baby. Kirsty stood there as I took a sip and I bloody well knew that it had something in it. I looked across at Jo and she was smiling at me.

At that moment my whole outlook changed. I just knew in my own mind what was going on. I was being drugged and my wife was in on it. I knew that Jo was planning on getting shagged by Martin Crosener that night.

Right, I thought, in my drunken state, you want to shag the wanker, you can shag him. Come on, I told you I'm pretty good at cutting my own nose off. But you're gonna shag your way out of this marriage, you cheating bitch. I wondered how many times she'd been shagged by Crosener in the past. You know we weren't together all the time.

Now as I said, I'd put a few away that night and maybe I wasn't thinking straight. I know it was pretty easy for me to be clumsy and to spill almost all the rum without it being obvious that I had done it on purpose.

"Oh, dear, I'll get you another one," Kirsty said and went to return to the bar.

"No, leave it for a minute, Kirsty. Let's have a dance," I said, then I threw my arms around her.

I tried to make quite a good job of looking pissed out of my brains, as we swayed around the little dance floor. I think she bought it as well. When the dance was over, I told her I was switching to drinking Cokes as I was feeling the drink a bit and then she went off to get me one.

Coke, shit! I hate the stuff, but I did know that's what Kirsty was drinking. You see I had a plan. Isn't it strange? Get a few drinks down you and the most stupid hair brained ideas sound like brilliant ideas? I intended switching my drink for Kirsty's, then I'd behave like I was out really of it and eventually pass out. Kirsty had been drinking quite well earlier in the evening and she had a habit of falling asleep when she'd had too many anyway. So if I were lucky, Martin wouldn't realise what I'd done.

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byThe Wanderer© 22 comments/ 54265 views/ 2 favorites

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