Acting Out Fantasies Pt. 01

Author's note: This is my first attempt at writing/publishing, but it is a work I have edited nearly 20 times, changing and altering, adding details as my wife has encouraged me to do. I started writing this in 2008, as we started to blossom in our sexuality, just imagining what it would be like. Some of this will sound like other stories, so if it looks like one of yours, take it as a compliment that I was inspired by what you had written. I've been trying to get the courage to publish and trying to finish the story in my mind. I have only written 3 parts so far, but I know where the story is heading, so I hope you enjoy. Things will get much more intense in parts 2 and 3, and this has lots of potential places to go with it. Hope you enjoy.

Once all of the other patrons had made their way out of the hotel bar, it was just Pete and his wife, Michelle, and the four men they had just met. Pete was somewhat in disbelief. For example, one of the men was Tommy, who reminded Pete of Chris Farley, the ill-fated movie star. Not quite as big, but every bit as clumsy. As Pete imagined her sucking on his cock, which was probably as unkempt as the rest of him was, he couldn't figure out Michelle's end game. Just looking at him, you could tell he was not the cleanest man around. There was perspiration quite visibly penetrating his dress shirt through his undershirt, and the frumpy way in which he walked, he was the kind of guy you just knew that he had an old pair of whitey-tighties on, quite possibly turned inside out so they would feel clean. And yet, here they were, and she was flirting with them.

What was she thinking picking up these guys? In Pete's mind, she was too pretty for them. These guys were either old or slobs or both, and while she was not of model quality, she was very pretty. At 5 ft, 3 inches, Michelle had a skinny, athletic, yet well-proportioned body, with smallish, pert breasts that sported beautiful, large, dark nipples. She had a beautiful smile, kind, brown eyes, long brunette hair, and reminded many folks of Anne Hathaway. She could have picked anyone out from the hotel bar, but these were the ones she wanted for whatever she had in mind. He couldn't figure it out.

You see, Pete and Michelle had agreed that in an effort to spice up their marriage, they would begin to act out their fantasies. This was their first opportunity to act on it, and they had agreed that she would be the first one to act out her fantasy. The only thing was that she had insisted on keeping it secret from him what she wanted. She only told him that nothing would happen that she wasn't ready for. He was expecting something like Michelle asking to be tied up, or maybe dancing and flirting with another guy just to get herself in the mood for some awesome sex. But he would soon find that he had underestimated her, and her fantasies, and even these guys.

She had obviously planned out the first details of the night, but not much further. "I want to you choose a bar for us that's out of town, so no one we know will see us while we play," she had said. He had asked her what she meant by "play," but she would not divulge. Based on her actions so far and her guardedness, Pete guessed that she was aiming to play with someone that looked like they could use a little fun, and this hotel bar was going to be the place, and these guys were the ones she had picked. Pete could feel the butterflies really start fluttering in his stomach at what might be ahead for them. For him. For her. This was just so out of character for Michelle, Pete could not fathom what he had unlocked inside her brain that she agreed to act these fantasies out.

She was dressed in a conservatively sexy manner. Enough to get guys to give her a second look, but not enough to openly advertise. She evidently wanted guys who would work for it. So she had dressed in a tight-fitting, short black dress with buttons down the front. When viewed from behind, it was about 3 inches from the bottom of her ass, tantalizingly close to exposing herself, especially when she bent over a little bit, but not ridiculous. She had worn a waist chain around it also, just to give her waist some shape. But it didn't flare out, nor did it hug her too closely. Anyone looking at her would have taken a second look, but probably would not have had any idea that she was wearing no underwear (as she had shown him was the case in the car), or that she had gone the entire evening with ben-wa balls stuck up her pussy. That little tidbit she had revealed to him just before zeroing in on this bunch of rather ordinary guys.

When they had arrived, the place was surprisingly busy. It was a nice bar as hotel bars go. It had a little waiting area with bench seats that opened out to the large hotel lobby. The main bar was a darkened room with high ceilings and square, dark wood tables surrounding a matching bar. The trim was silver, and there were a few paintings on the wall, giving a little bit of color to the room. The lights were dim, but not overly so, so that you could see who you were talking to, but not every detail about them. Perfect for meeting strangers. Off to one side of the bar was a small but functional parquet dance floor. Casual dance music played over the speaker system. They had chosen one of several high top tables that were available, and took a seat.

Over a couple of watered-down drinks, they listened to the sounds of the bar. The music was good 70's and 80's dance music, just what you would expect. "Kung Fu Fighting," "September," and "Dancing Queen" were the types of songs being played. They also overheard several conversations at different tables talking about a new kind of piping material. They both surmised that these must be men from a sales convention at the large hotel that housed the bar, and they were right. What surprised him was that aside from two women who Pete and Michelle could tell, by their casual conversation with the bartender, were local regulars looking for quick hook-ups, Michelle was the only other woman in the bar.

After a few dances with Pete, the two of them nervously engaged in small talk. Privately, Pete had been wondering what she had up her sleeve. For her part, Michele was nervously contemplating how to live out her fantasy, which was far more extreme than Pete had a clue about. What he didn't know was that she wanted to act out real fantasies she had carried with her for most of her life. These were not halfway, role-playing fantasies that would be fun for a while, but would grow boring. She wanted to start with a bang. What she didn't know was that she, too was in for more than she bargained for. After about an hour or so, Michelle got her first invitation to dance from another guy.

As they were talking and thinking, they both looked up, and saw a tall, dark-haired man with penetrating blue eyes approach. He had a small salesman's pouch for a belly and by Pete's estimate, looked like he was in his late forties. He was dressed in a dark polo shirt and gray slacks. He was clean-cut with cheap aftershave, and had his hair slicked back, but neat. In other words, he was a prototypical salesman, but looked like he meant well.

"I noticed that you guys have been talking for a while, but as you can see, you are the only woman here worth dancing with," he said. Tthen looking at Pete, he added "Do you mind?"

As Pete was getting ready to nod his head that it was fine, Michelle surprised everyone: "Oh, he's fine with it. Let's go!" As she was lead to the dance floor, she looked back at him with a smile that said that the game was on.

Well, isn't that wonderful, Pete thought. I guess I am supposed to be a voyeur in this fantasy," Pete thought to himself, along with "What in the world is she up to?" Deep down, he had an inkling, but this was a sudden surprise, and he wasn't sure he was on board with it. He quickly tried to wrap his brain around embracing the voyeur role, because despite his butterflies, he really wanted her to live out her fantasy. He had been working on her for the entire ten years of their marriage, asking her to tell him what she really wanted sexually, but he had been unable to get a straight answer. She was evasive about answering the questions.

Occasionally when he put the pressure on too hard for her to open up, she turned the tables, and asked him what his fantasies were. He could never admit how wild and extreme his fantasies were. Admittedly he had picked them up from watching more porn than she was aware of, and he didn't want to get into a fight about that. They were both devout Christians, but her background was based on shame, and porn was a forbidden thing. Staying married was more important to him than admitting his fantasies. So he would just try to nudge her into some things that were different from their usual routine, which was always a blowjob teaser for him to get him hard, followed by cowgirl to get her going, and then missionary for him to cum, followed by a vibrator for her to get to orgasm.

"We could try anal," he would offer up. "Anything that takes us out of the ordinary. We could have sex in a different room, maybe outside in the back yard? Anything. Come on, just give me a clue what turns you on, so I know what to do."

But she would quickly finish the conversation by giving him a blowjob and letting him finish in her mouth. She was clearly uncomfortable talking about this stuff. Despite how well he knew her, he couldn't tell if he was pushing her too far, or if he wasn't pushing far enough. He didn't know if it was her upbringing that made her this shy talking sex, or just a lack of confidence, or if she really was that cold.

After years of going back and forth and having no luck at getting her to admit her fantasies to him, he finally had had enough.

"This isn't working," he said to her one day. "I love you. I love our children. I love our family. I love everything we have together. You are my best friend, and I am still attracted to you. But we can't live like this sexually any longer. We have sex once or twice a month, and it is always the same routine. We are little more than kissing roomates. Is this what you imagined when we got married? It certainly isn't what I imagined."

After a few pensive moments, she quietly offered up, "No."

"Before we got married, you were a tomcat. We waited for sex until we were married, but we did everything else, and you were always wet and looking for action. Now I have to beg you to make time for sex, and you are never in the mood. I can tell that most of the time you do it just out of a feeling of obligation. What happened to that girl I dated back then? Where is she?" He immediately felt better after saying it. He had wanted to get it off his shoulders for a while. But he was also nervous about her reaction. He knew that if he went too far, and she would just go into a shell.

"I don't know," she said. "This isn't fun for me either, you know." Then after another moment, she added, "I was more turned on about things sexually back then, I guess. Sex was a mystery for me. It just isn't anymore."

"Then let's get that mystery, that edge back. What do you think we need to do?"

Pete was getting ready for the blowjob diversion, but instead she remained pensive, looking at some far off place. He stayed silent, hoping an actual answer was coming.

"Maybe you're right," she said finally. "Maybe we should try living out our fantasies, just force ourselves into it, and see what happens. I agree this isn't fun, and with all the mundane stuff we do with our jobs and the kids, we both deserve something adventurous." What she didn't reveal was that she had not really given herself permission to think about these kinds of things, and when she did, she felt so guilty about her imagination, she would shut that part of herself off.

Pete was happily flabbergasted at her response, but didn't want to let on to it too eagerly. "Michelle, are you sure? I've been trying for years to get you to open up and tell me just one of your fantasies, and you haven't bitten." Then after a second he continued, pleased with the progress, but still apprehensive. "Tell you what: rather than acting them out, why don't we just share some and see where we match, and go for those first."

"No. I know you probably don't believe me, but I have been thinking in the back of my head about this for a while. If we talk about them, we're going to get off for a while talking about them, but we'll never act them out, and eventually we'll go back to how we are now, and it will be even worse because we'll know we didn't have the courage to act them out. And I don't want that. I am just scared that we will offend one another if we really open up and cause irreparable damage to our marriage and family. We have worked hard for that."

"Are you sure you don't want to talk them out first?" Pete said. "You might not like my fantasies. And carrying them out has a certain amount of risk, too."

"Well, you might not like mine!" She quickly chimed in, with a teasing smile. "I don't know if this won't put us further in a hole than we already are. But I'm just like you. I'm happy with everything else that we've got going. I love you and our family and our life, but our sex life sucks. So let's just go for it, and trust that the other parts of our life together are strong enough to withstand the storm if this is not for us." She paused for a second, and then added, "But let me go first, so I can back out if I get too nervous."

"OK, what are we doing?"

She thought for a moment. "Just set us up with a couple of nights at a hotel somewhere where we won't be seen by anyone we know, and I'll form my plan."

She paused, then got a sheepish smile on her face. "I can't believe we're talking about doing this for real. I'm going to go big on the first one, so you will know that I'm serious."

So she has some fantasies after all, Pete thought to himself.

And that's what brought them up to this night. Pete had done what she had asked, had made a hotel reservation, and was now along for the ride, but this is not where he had expected the ride to go. He had expected a costume, maybe some showing off on the elevator, or for one of them to be tied up. But not this.

Once their new friend Jim had taken her for that first song on the dance floor, she had danced with everyone in his group. At their invitatio, Michelle and Pete had moved their drinks over to the guy's table. They were four guys from the same small company, all there for a plumbing supply convention. They sold plumbing parts to mom-and-pop hardware stores.

There was Jim who was quite obviously the outgoing one in their group, and the cleanest of the guys. There was Tommy, a slob in Pete's estimation, who was kind of a no-confidence, but hard to hate, guy. His button-down shirt had the company logo on it, but Pete wasn't sure the company would be proud of it. There was the perspiration marks coming through his undershirt; the shirt wouldn't stay tucked; and it looked like it had a few stains on it, maybe from lunch.

After Tommy there was Bob, who they found out had the longest tenure at the company, selling plumbing parts for the last forty-five years. He looked to be in his mid-sixties at least, and had begun to let himself go. His face was unevenly shaved, his hair was gray and a little bit greasy, and he had an aura about him -- "I don't give a shit what you think about me." He had on the same Polo shirt as Jim, but he was well overweight, and had dark, boring eyes. Pete noticed that of all the guys, Bob was looking at Michelle as if he didn't really believe what was going on, like this was a charade.

Then finally there was Mike. Mike was black. He had short, cropped hair, a round face, and wore glasses that made him look like the smartest of the bunch, like he won over customers by his knowledge of the products they sold. He seemed to get along with everyone, but he looked the most like he never imagined this would be what his life would come to, sitting in a hotel bar with these guys. He dressed like his buddies, and seemed to carry their same mannerisms. He joked with them, and clearly had a shared history with his co-workers. He was very skinny, and not too tall with cropped hair.

Looking at all of them, Pete noticed that none of them had on wedding rings, but knew that that didn't mean anything as far as relationships and such.

Michelle had obviously latched on to these guys, and had zeroed in on them at the expense of the six or so other groups that were at the bar. What had Pete befuddled was that this was clearly the "loser" group of the ones present. There were some guys at other tables that Michelle should have found attractive, with sharper attire, and more thought-out styles that they pulled off. Sure, some of them looked cocky and arrogant, but they were at least better looking. But this was the group she had chosen to do whatever was going to be done.

And the way that she was flirting with these guys and carrying on, Pete wondered if her fantasies involved going all the way with them. It seemed rather extreme based on the reticence she had about sharing her fantasies. Then Pete thought, Maybe that's why she didn't want to talk to him about her fantasies these years. They were taboo fantasies, at least for a marriage like theirs, and she didn't want to jeopardize her marriage to mention them, much less act them out.

He wasn't sure how he felt about all of this. He would be OK with a striptease for the guys, and maybe them touching her, but he wasn't sure about how he felt about her actually touching another guy's cock. Sure, like many guys, the idea of his wife putting her gifts and talents on display had its appeal; she was very sexy when she was in the mood, and she was an excellent cocksucker. He could imagine guys complimenting him about what a good looking wife he had, and really good in bed. But moving from fantasy to reality was a different animal altogether.

Things were moving along at a pretty quick pace this evening, and Pete was struggling to come to grips with what was obvious: she was putting his constant probing over the years to the test, and their marriage vows to the test as well. Pete was a mix of emotions about this. On one hand, he was so proud to see his wife letting go and could sense the sexual energy in her. On the other hand he was being asked to accept that her sexual energy was not directed solely in his direction, but to this entire group.

After one of her dances, they were all sitting around the table, and he saw her lean into Jim and begin whispering into his ear. The way his face lit up, she was clearly telling him that he was going to be a part of the rest of her night. She then pulled away, and Pete heard her say to him, "Just be patient."

Jim then leaned over to Mike, and began whispering into his ear. As he did, Michelle leaned over to Pete, and whispered to him, "Are you sure you want me to act out my fantasy?"

Pete thought for a moment, then realized that his cock was trying to pop out right through the jeans he had on. "My mind is nervous, but my dick says, 'Hell, yes!'" he said, pulling her hand to his crotch. "I am nervous, and I'm not sure what you have in mind, though."

"Pete, this will probably get intense, and will change our marriage, but I'm feeling courageous, and you've been begging me to live out my fantasies, which I am about to do. 'I think so' doesn't cut it. You're either on board now to the end of this fantasy, or we abort now and go back to our old life."

"What are we talking about happening?" he asked, trying to get a sense of what was to come. She had never looked so certain or intense in her life, even though he knew she must be nervous, or at least he hoped she was nervous. It might help to give her some pause if things got overwhelming.