Abby Learns the Game

"Abby! Let's go to dinner at the fancy French place," I said with enthusiasm one evening as we watched television.

"Really? Okay, I'm game," she answered.

She looked towards me excitedly and I tried hard to hide my smirk, but I knew I had failed when a suspicious look appeared on her face.

"What?" I asked, struggling to maintain my composure.

"What indeed! What are you plotting?" she asked.

A few weeks prior, while traveling on business with several senior coworkers, we had met for dinner at a high-end restaurant. We stopped in the bar for a drink before being seated, and posed on a stool was a beautiful woman that looked amazingly like my wife except her hair was lighter. She wore a short cocktail dress that showed her shapely legs and the tops of her lovely breasts. She looked sexy, but also quite stylish, and I struggled to keep from staring at her while she talked to a well-groomed man. Since then, my head had churned with the thoughts of getting my wife in a similar situation.

"I'm just thinking that since I'm paying the high prices, I should get to select your outfit," I responded after a short silence.

"And just what does that mean?" she answered now even more apprehensive.

"It means, I decide what you wear," I reiterated, forcing myself to maintain eye contact.

"What kind of outfit? I want to know," she asked, and while her expression showed some interest, I noted worry, too.

"Well let's see. The kind that turns every man's head. The kind that makes men trip over their own feet. The kind where a guy's wife or girlfriend will hit him because he's staring. The kind where later he will still be thinking about you." I said quickly so she couldn't interrupt.

You see Abby, despite being an attractive woman, typically masked her sensual beauty behind conservative clothes.

"I'll have to see the outfit first," she stated, and then added, "I'm not going to embarrass myself."

"You won't be embarrassed, I promise. Come with me so I can show you," I assured her before leading her to the computer.

Since the night I had seen the woman, I had surfed the net in search of a similar outfit. I quickly navigated to a very prestigious clothing store website that Abby loved to shop at when she splurged, knowing she couldn't argue about embarrassment if the dress came from the store. After a few clicks, I found the right page and expanded it on the screen.

"That's a bit much," she declared, but I felt encouraged since she hadn't outright rejected it.

The dress was very close to the one the woman wore, except the top, from the model picture, showed a bit more cleavage.

"Honey you will look fantastic," I said with complete sincerity.

Abby is 5'7" tall and slender, with raven hair and long legs that merge into a lovely butt kept nicely toned by her strict workout regime. Up top, she has perfectly shaped C-cup breasts with tiny, pink nipples that are very sensitive. She wears her hair just past her shoulders in a sassy style but her dark brown doe eyes and cute dimples counter the effect creating a playful contrast. Normally, she hides behind her natural shyness, but on rare occasions, she will become energized in a group setting and quickly become the center of male attention.

"Hmmm," she responded, and stared at the screen for a few seconds before departing.

We didn't return to the subject that night, but in bed, she accepted my advances and we enjoyed each other completely.

I met my wife six years ago, during our first year out of college when we were both working for the same company. She was in marketing, focused on web development, and I was in finance. Our introduction came through after-work friends, and we did things in the group for over six months before dating. Quickly, we found that we liked the same things and were sexually compatible. Neither of us was a virgin, but we were still relatively inexperienced. Abby had come from a conservative Catholic family and still felt a little "dirty" when she "did it." Fortunately, after we got married, she started to get a bit more adventurous, but being a weekly churchgoer meant there were still anxieties. We had held off starting a family, but I knew Abby was starting to get antsy which was another reason to push her limits while I could.

The following Saturday she headed to the store with a printout from the website of the dress along with one for a pair of heels I had selected. While she shopped, I played golf with friends performing horribly as I thought about her trying on the sexy clothes. As soon as we left the eighteenth green, I begged off from our normal post-round beer to hurry home, hopeful that she would model the new purchases.

When I arrived, I saw the packages sitting on the dining room table, but Abby lay curled up watching a movie in a pair of old flannel pajama pants and a sweatshirt. She was clearly toying with me, but it didn't stop me from asking.

"Sweetie, try on your new things for me," I said with a grin.

"Maybe later. I just sat down," she replied, not even turning her head from the TV.

She was trying to take control, but I refused to give her the satisfaction of seeing me beg. We had made arrangements to meet another couple for dinner, and it was only when I threatened to cancel that, with a heavy sigh dripping with feigned annoyance, she acquiesced, gathered the packages, and retreated to the bedroom. I waited impatiently, cursing her under my breath for taking way too much time before I finally heard the door open, and the sound of heels clicking on our hardwood floor filled the space.

"Wow," I said when she turned the corner.

The dress I had selected was black with thin straps holding up a V-neck that showed off a healthy amount of cleavage. The hem stopped mid-thigh, and in-between, the garment's fit snuggly showing off the marvelous shape of her trim body. She stood erect like a model on her three-inch heels, and my eyes shifted back and forth between her long shapely legs and her firm breasts trying to determine which part of her dress I liked better.

"Turn around," I choked out.

With only a brief hesitation, she accepted my command and turned giving me a view of her exposed back. The snug fit also provided some detail of her butt cheeks, tantalizingly pronounced by the heels. She looked unbelievable and I realized that anything more would have been too much.

"Well," she asked with a nervous voice when I didn't say anything, and I realized I had been so taken by the look that I had forgotten to speak.

"You look incredible...truly," I said as I moved towards her.

I put my arms around her waist from behind and pulled her tightly against me nuzzling my lips against her neck which made her sigh with pleasure.

"Do you really like it?" she asked, and for a moment I thought she was fishing for a compliment, but then I realized she was feeling vulnerable.

"I love it. It shows how beautiful you are...it's perfect," I answered, proud of my response.

Over her shoulder, I could see her beaming and I turned her and planted a kiss on her juicy lips. I thought about taking her right then, pulling her clothes off, and leading her to bed, but I didn't want to diminish the effects of our upcoming night out, so reluctantly, I let her fall from my arms.

"Go change now or we'll be late," I said softly and gave her a playful spank.

Abby started to speak, then stopped, and with a final look over her shoulder disappeared down the hall.

That night, I was a complete doting fool constantly making sure she had a full glass of wine while listening intently to every word she spoke. The other couple noticed it, they would have had to be blind and deaf not to, and the woman giggled several times while watching me. I didn't care. Seeing her earlier in the hot dress mesmerized me and now it seemed natural to give her all my attention.

"If I had known how easy it was to get my husband under my spell I would have bought some sexy clothes a long time ago," Abby laughed as we drove home.

"You definitely have me under your spell," I replied, acknowledging the truth.

We didn't make it to bed that night before I was inside her. As soon as we closed the back door, my hands were all over her pulling at her clothes. When I freed her breasts, she started on my things, and we simply dropped to the cold tile and connected in frenzied passion.

The restaurant I wanted to try was booked on all the good nights three weeks out. Regardless, I made the reservation realizing during the interim I would go mad with anticipation. From a prior visit, I knew the place had a subdued dining room and a cozy bar with a fireplace. A wall with cutout sections separated the spaces but allowed some visibility between them. In my view, it provided the perfect environment and I looked forward to her exhibition.

The last week seemed to crawl by but finally, the date arrived and I had to force myself to show an outward appearance of calm. Our reservation was for eight, but I wanted to get a drink in the bar first, so I told Abby we needed to leave just before seven. After piddling for most of the day, she disappeared around five and stayed behind the closed bathroom door forcing me to use the guest room to prepare.

At 6:45 PM I sat impatiently in the living room dressed and ready to go when I heard her heels, and when she appeared, the visual impact of seeing her for the second time was no less stunning. In fact, she had fixed her hair and done her makeup so well it was even better, and her full lips, now coated in a beautiful shade of red, seemed to call out for a kiss.

"You look so beautiful," I said to her while smiling like a fool.

"Do you really think it's okay? It's not too much? Now that I know we're going out, I feel nervous," she said with a worried look.

"Yes, I do. I think it's perfect," I replied, wanting to cut off any debate.

"Okay," she answered, giving a fake gulp in the process.

"Spin around," I instructed.

When she did, I noticed the lines of her thong through the tight fabric covering her rear.

"Sweetie, were you wearing panties when you tried the dress on before?" I asked.

"No..." she answered, with a confused expression.

"Well, I can see them through the dress," I stated.

"I'll be sitting mostly. Don't worry," she answered dismissively.

"No, it's not a good look. You need to take them off," I said and my boldness took both of us by surprise.

As far as I knew, she had never gone out in public without panties and now I was telling her to do so in this tight dress.

"Uh, no, I don't think I will," she replied in a sarcastic voice.

The tone of her response irritated me and without thinking, I said, "Yes, I think you will if you want to go."

For a moment, we stared at each other in silence before she turned and as she departed, she said, "Well, so much for being under my spell."

I kicked myself mentally for being so brusque and when she hadn't returned after several minutes, I began to wonder if she would at all. Fortunately, I heard her heels once more, and with a purposeful movement, she arrived, stood before me, turned, and bent at the waist to present her butt.

"Does that look okay?" she asked, clearly irritated.

"Fantastic. Let's go," I replied, eager to leave the conversation.

I did my best to be the gentleman opening her door and holding her hand while she slid into the car, but she was clearly angry, and I knew from experience that time was the best remedy. We drove in silence to the restaurant, and when we arrived it was like a movie where everyone stopped what they were doing and stared for a moment before quickly looking away. We checked in with the maitre d' then went to the bar and took two stools near the center. Another couple sat at a nearby table, but otherwise, we had the room to ourselves.

The place was just beginning to fill, and the patrons were mostly old-school with everyone appearing to have at least a dozen years on us. I could tell she was very nervous and she sat on the stool with her legs together while periodically trying to pull her dress down. I ordered a vodka martini for her, and she gulped half of it before I grabbed her wrist and put the glass on the bar.

"Easy baby," I whispered.

"I'm so nervous. What if Father Davidson sees me?" she replied, and when I started to laugh, she looked at me with disdain.

"You are beautiful and every man's dream," I whispered into her ear, then took her hand and kissed it.

Abby's initial discomfort made it difficult to have a conversation, but as the liquor hit, she started to relax. More people entered the bar, including several single men, and I was pleased to see her attracting attention. An older man in his fifties wasn't even trying to hide his interest and openly stared, but fortunately, he was just outside her vision.

When she finished her drink, I immediately ordered another and then excused myself to go to the restroom. When I returned, she had crossed her long legs and with the short dress now riding high on her thighs, most of the men were stealing glances.

"Are you still mad at me?" I asked when I arrived at the stool.

"Yes," she replied, but I could tell she was fighting back a smile.

"How can I make it up?" I asked playfully.

"Go home and get my panties," she deadpanned.

"That's not happening," I said.

"Do you know these men are staring at me? They think I'm a tramp," she pouted.

"They think you're gorgeous and they think I'm a very lucky guy...very lucky," I countered.

"Do you want your wife stared at?" she said, looking straight into my eyes.

"I love having a wife men want to stare at," I said while holding her stare.

"What if they knew I wasn't wearing panties?" she asked.

"Oh, honey, they know," I said with a laugh, which made her grab my arm.

"How do they know?" she gasped.

"The dress leaves nothing to the imagination," I explained.

"Excuse me? Is anyone sitting here?" a male voice asked.

Our little conversation stopped, and looking up, I saw a man and woman behind my wife.

"No, it's all yours," I replied.

I could see the man glance briefly at my wife's exposed legs before sitting on the stool next to her. He looked fortyish with dark hair and graying temples and was well-dressed, tall, and in good shape. His blonde wife appeared to be roughly the same age and, like him, she had a fit body. She wore a very nice dress, but not as sexy as Abby's.

We continued our playful chat now with lower voices due to the proximity of the other couple, and she had just finished her second martini when the time came to be seated. I walked behind her on the way to our table enjoying the movement of her ass through the dress as she moved, and while I couldn't be sure, it seemed she was putting a little extra sway into the motion. Along the way, I spotted several women giving looks of disapproval while most men stared with hunger. One older woman even grabbed the arm of her husband to break his gaze. The lighting in the dining room was dark, illuminated mostly by candles, which made Abby more comfortable.

"Thank you, Abby. I know this is hard for you," I said when the waiter left to get our bottle of wine.

"Does it excite you that people can see me like this?" she asked, returning to the theme we had discussed earlier.

"It excites me that you are beautiful and that everyone knows it and it excites me that you are pushing your boundaries," I replied sincerely.

"Why now? Why am I seeing this in you that I've never seen before?" she asked, which I accepted as a fair question.

"It's been on my mind for a while," I replied with a forced grin, as I certainly didn't want to tell her that another woman had inspired me.

Before she could respond the waiter returned and went through the ritual of pouring the wine while staring at her chest the entire time. When he left, she looked at me with an impish smile as she sipped. It was a good smile and I knew that things were going to be just fine.

"Will you fuck me later?" she suddenly blurted out a little too loudly, causing several people to turn.

Since we met, she had only used the word on rare occasions, so it startled me and I realized she must be feeling the alcohol.

"Yes, but much later," I answered, wanting to keep her off guard.

Abby started fidgeting with her dress again, tugging on the hem hoping her pulls could somehow make it longer and I finally told her to stop and just let it be.

"I can't," she said, with her small grin suddenly breaking into a bigger smile.

"Why?" I asked.

"I'm very wet. I think I might be wetting the chair," she said, looking at me like a child.

"To hell with the chair. Wet is good," I said, laughing as I felt my dick harden.

The food was excellent with the wine complimenting it nicely, and Abby was able to make some jokes about different men that were staring at her during our meal. Twice, I made her go to the bathroom just to enjoy the looks she received as her hips moved sensually beneath the tight dress. All in all, I was very pleased with how the evening was progressing.

It was almost ten when we finished, and with the night still young, we decided to have a nightcap in the bar. Just as we entered, the couple who had been sitting next to us previously appeared, and while I guided Abby to a stool so her legs would be on display, they took a spot several seats away.

"How was your dinner?" the woman asked my wife with a smile.

"It was lovely, we enjoyed it very much," she responded.

That started a conversation with the older couple and soon we made introductions learning they were Frank and Clemmy. We all ordered drinks and resumed talking with Clemmy acting something like a social director keeping things lively and making sure everyone was included. I could tell she was well-practiced in the art, so I wasn't surprised when she explained she spent most of her time in non-profit fundraising.

Talking to her, it was obvious that at one time she had been an incredible beauty. That's not to say she wasn't still quite lovely, but signs of age were starting to show. Still, any man at the restaurant would have been proud to have the attractive blonde on his arm. Her easygoing charm quickly had us at ease, and she went out of her way to compliment my wife on her beauty and style. I could tell my wife enjoyed the attention and was warming up rapidly to the older couple.

Frank was the consummate sophisticated gentleman. He let his wife carry the conversation with patience, only interrupting when he had a good point to make, which he did in an easy manner. We learned that he was a banker and that Clemmy had borne him three sons, with the last just starting college. They laughed about having the house back to themselves and the peace they now enjoyed.

We enjoyed the drinks while maintaining a lively conversation with no one showing any interest in leaving. Despite Frank's gentlemanly ways, I did catch him sneaking peeks at my wife's legs several times. Like before, her dress had ridden up, providing a tantalizing view that seemed to promise even more.

"We were going to drop by Luther's if you would care to join us?" Clemmy announced when her glass was empty.

I looked at Abby who gave a tiny shrug, but in her eyes, I could tell she was having fun, so we agreed to follow them. It was a club we weren't familiar with, but they told us it was just a few blocks away, so in less than ten minutes, with us following their Mercedes sedan, we were inside the place.

Immediately, I sensed that it was unlike any bar we had ever been to as it had a strange, almost mysterious, vibe. Upfront, there was a normal well-stocked bar, but our new friends led us to the back then down a narrow flight of stairs to a lower level that was very dark and had a variety of small couches and love seats intimately positioned. Frank directed us to the back of the room where two small loveseats were separated by a table, and as soon as we sat a waiter appeared from nowhere and took our order.