The Game: Late Nights

Thank you for rating my stories and providing feedback. I appreciate the messages and comments. This is a standalone chapter that shares a theme but not characters with other "The Game" stories.

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Rachel held her tray tightly as she navigated her way through the crowded cafeteria. Her eyes searched for her co-workers, Sarah and Amy, somewhere in the sea of men wearing white lab coats. She heard Amy's distinct laugh in the far corner and maneuvered past several tables before sliding into a seat.

All three women worked as research associates at the firm, though they were all assigned to different projects. Over the years they'd become good friends in an organization with few women.

Amy was the oldest of the group at twenty-nine, two years older than both Rachel and Amy.

"What's so funny?" Rachel asked with a smile. "I could hear you laughing from the other side of the cafeteria."

"She's laughing at my anniversary plans," Sarah pouted with playful indignation.

"Sarah's planning on making Steve a dirty movie," Amy grinned, "And I was just giving her some dialogue suggestions."

"Really?" Rachel raised an eyebrow.

"Forget it!" Sarah interjected, "I've scrapped the idea anyhow. I'll have to take my chances with some lingerie."

"Hey wait a minute, what's wrong with lingerie?" Rachel pushed. "I wear lingerie for David on our anniversary every year."

"Only once a year?" Amy teased.

"Steve doesn't seem very excited about it." Sarah spoke softly. "It's tough to tell what he likes because he's so polite. Does he want something black and frilly, or naughty like a cheerleader costume? It might as well be wrapping paper to him."

"Martin and I have a game, he buys the outfit, and whatever he picks out I act out his fantasy for him," Amy announced proudly. "It's normally pretty tame but every once in awhile he'll bring home something like a sexy cop uniform and we break out the hand cuffs."

"I don't think I could trust Steve to remember my sizes," Sarah laughed. "Or the keys to the handcuffs!"

The rest of their lunch hour was filled with their usual back and forth and gossiping. When it was time to get back to work, Rachel couldn't shake Amy and Martin's game from her thoughts.

Truthfully Rachel had sex on her mind quite a bit lately. She and David were having a dry spell, if you could call two months a dry spell instead of a drought.

Her husband of two years had been putting in a lot of hours at the office. David was a lawyer at a boutique acquisitions firm. There had been rumors that one of the principals would be retiring soon and that someone in the office would be making the move to junior partner.

David's current assignment was a big one. A national supermarket conglomerate had engaged his firm to complete the purchase of a regional grocery chain. Unfortunately it had turned into a mess. The regional grocer's ownership was scattered across multiple generations of several families -- all of whom had their own terms and conditions they wanted considered.

It was made worse because David's assistant, Denise, was a very attractive red head woman a few years her junior who was spending more time with her husband than she did. Rachel thought she could trust David, but it made things even more stressful.

Rachel tolerated the long days and missed dinners for weeks until the big fight.

David didn't come home from work until well past eleven and reeking of alcohol. He'd tried to explain that he'd had been at a dinner meeting with the patriarch of one of the grocer families and that a beer had been spilled on his pants -- but Rachel wasn't in the mood for excuses.

She exploded at him with pent up frustration. She accused him of not working hard enough on their relationship and even brought up the red headed assistant. David was adamant that there was nothing going on and explained again how important this project was for his career and their future together but there was no calming Rachel down. David slept on the couch.

From that night on Rachel had grown cold. David was eventually allowed back in the bedroom but any attempt at intimacy was stifled immediately. There were several more fights about working late and sex until eventually he just seemed to give up. David stopped touching her and quietly kept to himself, putting in the long hours at the office that paid for the mortgage and coming to bed after Rachel had gone to sleep. They were polite to each other but the spark had disappeared and was replaced by routine.

They were both miserable.

Rachel decided that maybe Amy and Martin's game was what they needed to stoke their fire. Rachel sat in silence at her desk staring at her phone. She almost never called him at work. Denise the red head answered his phone during work hours. Rachel trusted David,but she didn't trust Denise.

Rachel took a deep breath and dialed the number.

"Thomson McKenzie Albert, how may I help you?" A cheerful male voice answered the phone.

"Sorry, I was trying to get a hold of David," Rachel apologized.

"This is David's office, who may I say is calling?"

"His wife," Rachel responded confused. "Who is this?"

"Hello Rachel, pleasure to finally speak to you. I'm Todd, David's assistant," Todd answered enthusiastically.

"Where is Denise?" Rachel stammered.

"Um, Denise and I actually changed assignments a few months ago," Todd sounded a little taken aback by her bluntness.

"Sorry Todd," Rachel apologized. "I didn't mean to interrogate you; David just didn't mention he had a different assistant."

"No problem at all, I completely understand. We've been so busy I'm sure he's been happy to avoid talking about work when he gets home," Todd paused. "Anyway, if you'll hold just a moment I'll put you through."

The phone line clicked and switched over to some generic hold music.

"Hello, David speaking." Rachel could hear the fatigue in his voice.

"Hi," Rachel spoke softly.

There was a pause on the line. "Rachel?" David sounded surprised.

"What time do you think you'll be home tonight David?"

"Ah, I don't know, probably around seven," he paused. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just need to talk to you."

The line was quiet for a moment.

"Ok... well then I'll see you around seven."

Rachel hung up and took a deep breath. Things were so awkward between them right now she wasn't sure that lingerie would be enough to save their young marriage.

Rachel rehearsed what she would say to David when he got home during her drive home. She arrived at the house around six and made herself a small dinner. David cooked for himself these days. Rachel curled up on the couch under a blanket and watched TV until she heard the garage door grind to life.

She took a deep breath as he walked through the door, shed his overcoat and slid off his expensive shoes.

"Hi," he spoke quietly and gave her an awkward smile.

"Hi David," she replied nervously.

He walked towards the couch slowly and placed his briefcase down by the loveseat. He hesitated for a moment and then took a seat across from her.

"You called my office today. You never call." He was curious, not angry.

"You didn't tell me that you'd fired Denise," Rachel raised her eyes to meet his.

"I didn't fire Denise. I just asked one of the other partners to switch assistants with me," David spoke defensively. He was already suspicious that they were headed for another fight.

"Why?" Rachel asked softly.

"Because she was making you uncomfortable," David responded awkwardly.

"Just like that?" Rachel continued.

"Not just like that," David's voice rose defiantly. "She was a fantastic assistant, but you didn't trust me." He paused and Rachel averted her eyes. "But Denise's expertise isn't more important than my marriage."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Rachel responded quietly.

"Rachel, this is the most I think we've spoken to each other in a month. It didn't come up."

"David I'm not happy like this. I want our life back." A tear escaped from her eye.

David stared towards the door. "I don't like this either, we've been like this so long that I don't know if I remember how we were."

Rachel wiped the tear from her eye. "David, I love you."

"I love you too," his voice sounded flat.

"I have an idea," Rachel straightened up on the sofa. She took a deep breath and passed David a small piece of folded paper.

David stared at the note without moving for a moment, then slowly he reached out and accepted the piece of paper.

"What is this?" He asked without unfolding it. He searched Rachel's face for a clue.

"It's a game. I thought maybe it could help us... help us reconnect."

David straightened and began to unfold the note. He paused while he read it and then turned to Rachel with a confused expression.

"I don't understand."

"It's my measurements," Rachel swallowed. "I want you to go shopping and buy whatever it is you'd like me to wear for you. "

"You want me to buy you a dress?" David's eyes darted back to the paper. "Where are we going?"

Rachel stood from the couch and moved closer to David's perch on the loveseat, placing her hand on his shoulder.

"No. It's for the bedroom," she took in the look of surprise on his face. "For one night, anything you want me to be."

Her cheeks burned and she quickly retreated to the kitchen, leaving David speechless and alone in front of the TV.

Rachel hid in the soaker tub for the rest of the evening and pretended to be asleep when David finally came to bed. He had already left for the office before she woke up.

Rachel took extra care to shave her legs in the shower that morning. She shook with anticipation on the drive to work. She hadn't said when, but she figured David would probably bring something home tonight.

The girls noticed Rachel's nervousness during lunch, but she deflected their questions. By the time 4:00 rolled around, Rachel couldn't sit still anymore so she decided to leave work early. She managed to beat the evening traffic and made it home in record time.

Rachel opened the door to a quiet house. She had lots of time before she figured David would be home, even if he did leave earlier than normal. Rachel didn't know what to do with herself. She decided that a bottle of wine and a warm bath might help her settle down.

She grabbed a glass and a bottle of cheap merlot from the wine rack and headed up stairs. She selected a warm temperature for the bathwater and began to shed her clothes as she waited for the tub to fill. She turned to the full-length mirror on the bathroom door.

Many women feel insecure in front of a mirror, but not Rachel. She had always had a body that had attracted attention. As a young girl she'd learned to love running and even competed on the track team until her growing breasts had made racing uncomfortable. Today she still loved to run several days a week and it showed.

Her long legs led to a tight bottom that didn't sag and had no trace of cellulite. Her wide hips were perched above a small mound covered with a short fuzz of hair that made a trail leading down from her flat stomach. Her taut abdomen accentuated her chest wonderfully. Her breasts had the sort of desirable round shape that teased men from the covers of magazines. Many men had described her breasts as perfect, including David once upon a time.

They made a beautiful pair. David was classically handsome and also no stranger to the gym. A young lawyer with a promising future. They were a storybook couple in many respects. Until the fight. Rachel hated how the fight now defined their marriage.

Rachel stared into her own eyes. Her face did justice to her smooth body, with cute, perfectly proportioned features. She wore very little makeup except for lipstick. She had a very girl next door look.

Rachel pulled the clips from her dark brown hair letting it fall and rest several inches below her shoulders. She wasn't very adventurous with her hair, always keeping it clipped behind her head at work, or in a pony tail at the gym. Years ago in college she'd died it blonde for a year, when dying hair had been a popular activity at her sorority.

Being a blonde had led to lower grades inexplicably. She was a very smart girl, studying to become a medical researcher. She didn't want to be taken less seriously by her professors so the dye job had to go.

The steam from the bathtub began to cloud the mirror. Rachel poured herself a large glass of wine and sunk into the warm water. She closed her eyes and began imagining what David would bring her when he arrived home tonight.

She pictured him walking in the door with a bag from Victoria's Secret and a grin on his face. He'd pass it to her sheepishly and she'd run upstairs to slip into a beautiful soft white camisole -- something from the bridal collection no doubt.

She'd dress quickly and then reveal herself to him at the top of the stairs while he sat nervously on the sofa. He'd turn and stare at her appreciatively and she'd make her way seductively down the steps to stand in front of him. David would leap to his feet and take her into his arms kissing her deeply and guiding her back up stairs to the bedroom with a gentle hand on her back.

Rachel sighed contently and allowed her hands to gently trace her mound in anticipation as she imagined David's loving embrace. She missed him a lot.

The water began to chill as Rachel's mind wandered deeper into her fantasy. She had just began to stroke her slit when she was startled back to reality -- and the cooling water in the tub -- by the sound of the garage door opening.

Rachel pulled the bath tub plug with her foot and propped herself up in the tub, reaching for a towel on the floor beside her. She carefully pulled herself out of the water and wrapped herself tightly in a fluffy towel.

She stepped out of the tub onto the cool ceramic tile floors.

"Rachel?" David called out from downstairs.

"I'm just upstairs in the bath, I'll be right down," she called back enthusiastically.

Rachel dried herself quickly before dropping the towel to the floor and slipping into a warm bathrobe on her way out the door. She padded softly down the hallway until she stood at the top of the stairs.

David had shed his shoes, blazer and tie and was sitting quietly on the couch with two black unmarked bags beside him. He glanced up and gave her a shy smile as she walked down the stairs.

She approached him in her barefoot and stared at the bags.

"Are those for me?"

"If you're sure you want to play this game, then yes," David seemed guarded.

Rachel stood searching the bags for a label. Her fantasy of a camisole from Victoria Secret no longer seemed likely.

"Where did you buy this from?" Rachel asked curiously.

"A place downtown I'd heard about," David tried to gauge her reaction.

Rachel didn't know of any underwear stores downtown. She swallowed hard and gave David a smile.

"This is going to be fun," she tried to sound confident and she reached for the bags. David picked them up by their handles and passed them towards her. She was surprised by the weight and had to readjust them.

"I'll just go upstairs and get ready then," she gave another smile, this one betraying her nervousness before turning and heading back upstairs with the bags.

Her heart beat very fast as she reached the landing and turned into their bedroom. She placed the bags on the bed and took a deep breath. She decided to start by opening the smaller bag first.

She crawled onto the bed and pulled the black plastic toward her. The cardboard inside was a tight fit and she had to turn the bag upside down and shake until the box slid out. The box was brown and had no markings except for a large "Made in Italy" stamp.

Rachel popped the lid off and dug through the noisy tissue paper revealing a pair of black shoes. She pulled them from the box and gawked at them. They were unlike any shoes she'd ever owned. They were black made of leather with several small straps and clasps. They had two or three inch platforms and even longer sharp stiletto heels.

She rolled them in her hands and made up her mind that they'd be almost impossible for her to walk in. What was David thinking? She rarely ever wore platforms much less stilettos, certainly never anything this tall.

She swallowed hard and turned her attention to the other bag. She gently pulled away a layer of tissue paper on top until she could make out a cardboard package with fabric on the front. She pulled it out from the bag and read the packaging aloud.

"Fishnet stockings?"

Rachel had an uneasy feeling in her stomach as she reached back into the bag. She felt something large but covered in a soft fabric and pulled it from the bag.

"What is this?" Rachel mumbled to herself as she turned it over in her hands. The top was covered in a scarlet red material and accentuated with black lace.

Rachel held her breath as she realized it was a corset. Unlike any corset she'd ever seen before this one had small shelves where the cups covering her breasts should be. The back was a patchwork of straps leading to a single place to tie it closed.

Rachel leaned back on the bed barely holding back tears. Putting this on would make her look like an expensive whore. She couldn't believe that David would bring this into their home. Not after she had gone through all the trouble of trying to repair their marriage with this game.

Furious she grabbing the corset in her hand and stormed out of the room.

"What the hell is this?" Rachel screamed from the top of the stairs holding the material in front of her like a piece of soiled laundry.

David swung around in surprise. His mouth opened but no words came out as he stared at his furious wife holding the corset he'd bought for her at the sex store downtown.

"You think I'm some sort of whore?" Rachel screamed, tears beginning to well in her eyes. "I'm your wife for fuck sakes."

David was crushed. He swallowed and averted his eyes for a moment to consider his reply.

"What the fuck is the matter with you," Rachel continued stammering. "You, you, pervert!"

David clenched his fists. Furious. He rose slowly to his feet refusing to meet Rachel's eyes.

Rachel sobbed and retreated from the staircase back to the bedroom. She threw the corset onto the floor and buried her face in her pillow.

David appeared silently in the door a moment later.

Rachel felt his presence and turned to stare at him with swollen eyes. She waited for him to speak. To say something, to apologize.

David glanced at her once but remained silent. He walked to his closet and began pulling out several suits, hanging them on the closet's door knob.

Rachel stifled her cries and watched in dread as he began selecting ties. Then he turned, gathering his clothes and headed for the door.

"What are you doing?" Rachel croaked.

"Leaving," he answered painfully.

"David.... don't, we can fix this," Rachel's voice began to grow desperate as he exited through the door. She scratched and clawed her way off the bed dashing to the hallway after him.

"David, don't do this!" She screamed after him as she collapsed in tears.

David was visibly upset as he made his way downstairs and put on his coat and shoes.

"I thought this was a safe place," he said quietly. "I thought we were trying new things."

"We are David, we will fix things!" Rachel wailed.

David stared at her for another moment his eyes betraying a look of resigned sadness, then anger.

"I'm humiliated. This stupid game was your damn idea in the first place." He gathered his clothes and disappeared into the garage.

By the time Rachel made it downstairs the garage door was already opening and David's Mercedes had roared to life. He ignored her pleas to stop and back down the driveway.