A Wife's First Date

She inserted the key card and reached for the elevator button for the club floor; nervous, but drawn by some new urge triggered by his confident, brash manner.

The elevator door closed and began to move upward.

She had fantasized about other men. All wives do. How else would you explain the millions of romance novels involving muscled, confident, take charge men, who take what they want?

Her husband told her of his fantasies of her being taken by another man and about how hot it made him to think of her being pleasured by some stud. She indulged him, but never really seriously considered it. It was complicated; people might find out; what if the guy became attached emotionally.

"Just know that I love you, and I am ok with it if the opportunity ever arises."

She knew he loved her and thought he actually meant what he said. This generated conflicting feelings-- hurt that he was not more possessive of her and the warm love of knowing he was so committed that he would grant her the freedom, even if she would never take the opportunity to test his permission. She did wonder how he would really take it. Could he handle the jealousy or would it destroy the great marriage they had? She could never do it, however, so this was all just idle speculation.

The man in the lobby was different somehow. Like all beautiful women, she got hit on by jerks and hapless losers all the time. These men would make the odd casual remark or attempt a ham handed come on, but seemed conscious that they were going to get shot down before they even opened their mouth. She thought it was almost as if some book they read told them that, if they put their bullshit out there enough someday some woman might say yes, despite their apparent lack of any redeeming qualities.

The man in the lobby was different indeed. She bumped into him, literally, when she was checking in. He said excuse me and apologized as if it was his fault when she had been the one who bumped into him. He was tall and fit with short full hair and graying temples. He was dressed in a very expensive looking dark blue suit. Not ostentatious but polished and together. She felt a little lift of recognition of his attractiveness inside her, as he subtly smiled, his deep blue eyes crinkling at the corners. She smiled back and turned to the check in desk as he continued his journey to the elevator.

After checking in, she went to her room, unpacked, and showered, careful not to be late for the opening event of the Bar Mitzvah weekend that had brought her to town.

She made better time than expected getting dressed and decided to have a glass of wine from the bar while she waited on her friend to pick her up for the party.

Sitting at the bar, she felt confident. She was beautifully dressed for the party in a cute (and a little short) black knit cocktail dress, black tights, and her sleek new suede booties complete with sky high stiletto heels- classy, fashionable, and extremely sexy. She owned this look.

As she sipped her glass of pinot noir, she felt someone brush up against her as they approached the bar on her left. She was surprised when she looked up and it was him.

He smiled and apologized "I am sorry, I keep running into you. My name is Peter Dunning."

She returned his smile and introduced herself, taking the strong hand that he offered and shaking it confidently.

"You look fantastic. Where are you headed?"

She explained that she was attending a dinner to celebrate the beginning of her friend's son's Bar Mitzvah weekend.

"Another friend who lives in town is picking me up for the dinner."

"You're alone?"

"Yes, my husband had a work meeting and could not come with me."

"His loss."

They chatted for a few more minutes. She subtly flirted because she found him very sexy and intriguing.

"What time is the party over?


"The first night is pretty low key, so I expect it will be over by 10:30."

She smiled and looked into his beautiful blue eyes. She felt a little exposed and strangely drawn by the magnetism of his presence.

"Great, I will see you in my room around 10:45. It is room 3505," he said as he extended his hand.

She felt the heat rise in her sex and the juices start to pool as he spoke. He was so sure, so confident and so smooth, as if she had already agreed to come, almost as if he was controlling her. She reached out and grasped his hand, taking what turned out to be the key sleeve for his room with the room number printed on it and a black key card inside.

"I look forward to seeing you later."

He stood, kissed her cheek, and moved toward the door, disappearing into the night.

She watched him, a little stunned from what he said and what she had done. She could not believe the feeling that she was not in control of herself as she watched him walk out of the bar, his body moving beautifully under the immaculate suit.

Her mind raced and her body buzzed with excitement as she rode to the party with her friend. Normally, she would have laughed with her friend about getting hit on in the bar, but she dared not tell them about the encounter. This was different. It felt real and palpable. She feared any mention of it would betray the lust and excitement she was feeling. Instead, she made small talk in the car, aware that her panties were soaked through, despite her attempts to distract herself.

It was a lovely party, and she was delighted to be present for her friend on this important weekend. She was still buzzing from the thrill of the encounter, but managed to be present with her friends and the host, who was overjoyed to have her good friend share the momentous occasion. She tried to forget about Peter in the whirlwind and fun of the party, but her mind and her body could not shake the feeling of pleasant unease generated by this sexy, powerful man.

On the way back to the hotel after the party, she could no longer suppress the feelings she was having. She was in a daze and could think of nothing else but him.

She told herself that it was just a fun little bit of flirting, a harmless fantasy that was fun to think of, but she would never go through with it. She loved her husband. He said he was okay with it she rationalized in her mind. Her "good girl" conscience fought back, but she could not shake the lust and feeling that she was not in control- that she did not want to be in control.

The elevator stopped on the 35th floor. Alone, she hesitated, like she was jumping off a cliff into the water; that wonderful thrill of unease. As she moved through the door and walked down the hall toward his room, she knew that resistance was futile, and she could not overcome her lust for him, the thrill of his confident, powerful sexiness, and the thirst for his touch that would not go unquenched.

Arriving at room 3505, she steeled herself and knocked softly on the door, ready to give her body to this mysterious man.