Fantasy Crossroads Pt. 03

"I was gonna meet you at the door with a drink," I tell him, "but I want you to take me upstairs and fuck me right now."

"Rough day, huh?" he says with a grin as he drops his briefcase in the hallway and takes my hand.

For the next thirty minutes, Max fucks me senseless. I cum twice, the first time kneeling on the side of the bed while he hammers his cock into me from behind with deep, powerful strokes. The second time, he makes me straddle him while he sits in the straight-backed chair we keep in our bedroom just for that purpose. I make so much noise that I'm certain the neighbors are listening. On the other hand, we've lived here for years and they've probably eavesdropped on us many times in the past. I hope it turns them on.

Eventually, we untangle ourselves and put on casual clothing for the rest of the evening; Max in shorts and a Grateful Dead tee, summer-weight sweats for me. Only then do I realize I was so amped up by my internet exploration that I had forgotten to ask about the meeting.

"It went well," he tells me as he prepares two martinis. "You're going to like what I have to tell you."

"Let's hear it," I demand with a smile as we settle into our family room sofa and I take a sip of my drink.

"First of all, Craig is a nice guy. He's as protective of Erin as I am of you. He told me they have had one other sexual encounter with another couple and it went very well, although it did not involve bondage. Their bondage experience is similar to ours; basic stuff in their own bedroom."

"Good," I respond. "We'll all be on equal footing."

"I told him about my fantasy, that I want to constrain you but leave the rest up to him. When he just stared at me for a few moments, I thought I had offended him in some way. Then he admitted that he had been thinking along those same lines, although in his fantasy I would be the one to tie up his wife. He likes my idea better so that's what we're going to do."

"Craig got right to the point about what Erin would, and would not, permit," Max continues. "The two of you are almost in perfect alignment. The only difference is that she has no objection to oral sex and neither does he. I made it plain that we needed to rule that out and he immediately agreed."

"And" I prompt, "what else?"

"Nothing else," Max replies with a grin. "To paraphrase your words, you'll be told what to do and when to do it."

"Hmmf! So now what?"

"Craig and I are meeting again for lunch at Charlie's tomorrow to work out the details."

"How soon do you think this will happen?" I ask with my heart in my throat.

"Maybe this weekend."

****

Tuesday is just like Monday; I ambush my husband the instant he arrives home and we fuck our brains out before happy hour.

"Please tell me something," I beg. "Give me a hint at least."

"The only thing I'll tell you is that Craig and I decided that you and Erin will not meet until the night we get together. Erin has already agreed, but she's willing to meet sooner if you insist. She told Craig that not meeting you until we all arrive at the hotel adds to the excitement.

"I'll go along with that. Is there anything else you're willing to tell me?" I ask, a little plaintively.

"Nope. You don't have to worry about a thing. We've made all the decisions and I've already contacted the organization to have them make hotel arrangements. They'll probably get in touch with me tomorrow or Thursday at the latest. In the meantime, I have a little online shopping to do, so you'll have to excuse me for an hour or so after dinner."

"That's all you'll tell me?" I inquire with a frown on my face.

"That's it. You'll just have to wait for the weekend."

"Shit."

****

The rest of the week is a little easier on me. I have work to do with several clients that uses up my days. Max and I enjoy normal happy hours and confine our sexual activities to bedtime.

On Friday morning, a postal service priority mail box is delivered to the house. I desperately want to open it but settle for shaking it vigorously and trying to guess what might be inside. There are a few metallic clinking sounds but they don't offer much in the way of clues about the contents.

Friday night, Max and I go out to dinner. While we're eating, he tells me that everything is all set for Saturday night but will not reveal anything else. By the time we get home, I am boiling inside from anticipation and badly need the thorough fucking I receive on the family room sofa only minutes after we pass through our front door. Long ago I learned that the more sex you have, the more sex you want. I am now primed and ready for tomorrow night.

****

It is Saturday morning and we are at the breakfast table, but I am too jumpy to have much of an appetite. I settle for tea and toast. Max has Cheerios and some fruit. I even skip my morning coffee, afraid that the caffeine will send me into orbit.

About two o'clock in the afternoon, Max leaves to run errands. The instant he pulls out of the driveway, I go searching for the box of goodies. It's gone. There is little else for me to do but walk around the house with a rag and pretend to dust everything.

Max returns at four with two deli salads. In spite of my butterflies, I am now a little bit hungry. The salad is perfect and so is the timing. If we ate a normal dinner at a normal time, we'd be too full to fully enjoy what we are about to do. If we're hungry when it's all over, we can go to one of our favorite taverns and eat late-night pub food.

When we finish our meal, Max tells me to stay put while he goes upstairs. I'm curious about what he's doing up there but I do as he orders. I don't want to spoil anything.

A short time later he comes down, hands me a hotel key card and a small sealed envelope. At least now I know which hotel we're using and I am pleased. Although we have never spent a night there, we have attended several social functions, dined in their excellent restaurant, and spent a few hours seated at their bar. In keeping with normal hotel policy, there is no room number on the key.

The Densmere dates back to the late nineteenth century. Over the years they have been able to modernize while retaining its historical atmosphere. The lobby is very large with high vaulted ceilings and marble floors. The reception desk is the original. I've never seen one of the rooms, but I've been told that they all have high ceilings lined with embossed tin panels, ceiling fans, and thick plaster and lath walls. All the better to muffle screams of pleasure, I think to myself.

Max tells me that my clothing for the evening is already laid out on the bed. Everything is there and I'm not to make any changes.

"Be at the hotel bar with the envelope and key card by seven-thirty sharp. Take a taxi. Erin will meet you in the bar. The two of you will have a half hour or so to get acquainted, so have a drink. When we're ready for you, Craig will text Erin and give her the room number. You will receive further instructions when you're inside the room. Your safe word is simple; 'stop' will bring everything to a halt instantly. Got all that?"

"Got it," I reply in a shaky voice.

"And remember," he says, "you can call me at any time if you don't want to go through with this. If you feel uncomfortable, let me know and I'll call it off."

"I'm a little nervous," I admit, "but I'm not about to back out now. I've been looking forward to this since you told me about your fantasy on date night. Plus, you helped me bring my fantasy to life and now it's my turn to help you. I love you and I want everything to be perfect."

"It will be, and I love you too. I'll see you tonight at the hotel," he responds before he kisses me and leaves the house.

A short while later I go upstairs to see what has been laid out for me on the bed. Not much, just a short burgundy wraparound dress, tiny burgundy panties, and a pair of matching come-fuck-me shoes with serious ankle straps. No bra. I've never seen any of this stuff before, but burgundy is a perfect color for my complexion and dark hair. Max has been a busy shopper.

My first instinct is to add some jewelry, but I'm mindful of Max's order to not make any changes. Jewelry would probably just get in the way during bondage sex anyway.

I do not expect any anal activity tonight, but I can't be certain. I have very little experience in that regard. Depending on the position we're using, Max will occasionally insert the tip of a finger in my ass just before I cum. Without fail, it launches me over the top into orgasmic free fall. Needless to say, it always meets with my approval. It is possible that Max may have provided Craig with this information so I decide to take precautions.

I use one of the little pre-mixed enema bottles that are sold in drug stores. After it completes its work, I step into the shower, shave my legs, and carefully wash every part of my body, giving extra attention to my ass and my pussy. I blow dry my hair and then brush it to a shine, deciding to let it fall naturally to my shoulders. After a touch of makeup and some strategically applied perfume, I put on the clothing Max laid out for me. A quick glance in our full-length mirror tells me that any man with a pulse would be delighted to fuck me.

****

I arrive exactly at seven-thirty as instructed. Looking around, I don't see Erin, but within a minute or so she steps into the bar from the hotel lobby. Her picture on the website does not do her justice. She is breathtakingly beautiful and I note that we are dressed alike. Different colors, but identical clothing style. She is wearing a green wrap-around dress that complements her hair and highlights her eyes. Our shoes are identical except for color. She is clearly braless and, if her panties are anything like mine, there isn't much to them.

She spots me within seconds and her face breaks out into a radiant smile as she crosses the room. We introduce ourselves and then take a seat at a small table in a corner of the room for a little privacy. A server approaches us and takes our order, a whiskey sour for Erin and a cosmopolitan for me. Before our drinks arrive, we are already chatting away. She has a friendly, outgoing personality and I like her instantaneously. She is also very direct.

"Can you believe what we are about to do?" she asks as she sets her cell phone down on the table. "I don't know about you, but I'm a bit nervous. Craig and I have only had one sexual encounter with another couple. That worked out splendidly, but this bondage thing is something else entirely. I'm glad you and I share similar thoughts about what we'll allow them to do to us."

"I'm nervous too," I admit, "but I think everything will work out okay. Max and I also have had sex with only one other couple and it was wonderful. I don't see any reason why this won't be even more exciting since we're adding a new dimension."

"Well, I trust Craig completely and I'm sure you trust Max, but I think we are both entitled to a small case of butterflies. We're certainly stepping off into uncharted territory. And speaking of uncharted territory, I understand that you have our instructions."

"I do, along with a room key" I respond, pulling the sealed envelope and key card from my purse and wiggling them in the air. "Max says we aren't allowed to open the envelope until we're told to do so."

"Yeah, that's what Craig said too. I wonder when their majesties will summon us?" she asks with a smile.

"Beats me," I respond with a smile of my own, "but I hope it's soon. In the meantime, let's just enjoy our drinks and get better acquainted."

As we talk, I study her more closely. There is a delicate, ethereal quality to her beauty that I don't think I possess. For the first time in many years, I find myself envious of another woman's looks. Of course the upside is that watching my husband fuck this exquisite creature is going to blow my mind.

By the time we finish our drinks, we have not received any further instructions from the men.

"Let's have another," I suggest. "No telling when we'll hear from them."

"Good idea," she responds, looking directly into my eyes with a sensual little smile on her face. I feel a flutter in my stomach and it's not from the butterflies I confessed to earlier. I don't know what it is, but it's a little disconcerting.

Our drinks arrive and Erin proposes a toast. "Here's to multiple orgasms," she intones, once again looking me in the eye. I feel that flutter again.

"To multiple orgasms," I repeat and take a sip of my cosmo, looking back at her over the rim of my glass. Suddenly I know exactly what is going on. For the first time in my life, I am sexually attracted to another woman. It's not an unpleasant feeling so I set it aside in my mind for reflection after tonight is over.

Halfway through our drinks, Erin's cell phone buzzes. She looks at me and smiles.

"Room fifteen-twenty," she tells me. "I know that's the top floor. I assume they mean now, but we haven't finished our drinks yet. Let 'em wait," she adds with a mischievous little grin.

"I agree. Right now we still have a little control. The minute we step into that room and let them restrain us, we relinquish everything."

"Yeah, but it's gonna be fun," Erin says with a wider grin.

Five minutes later, we swallow the last of our drinks and head for the elevators. When we step out into the corridor, a little sign on the wall points the way to several room numbers, one of which is ours. It turns out to be the last one at the end of the hallway, directly across from a housekeeping station. I'm certain that most of the housekeeping staff finished their work hours ago.

"I'll bet we have this room because it limits the number of guests we can disturb when we're screaming with orgasmic pleasure," Erin offers and then lets out a nervous little laugh.

"No doubt," I agree as I hold my keycard against the little pad on the door and a green light starts to flash. I gesture for Erin to cross the threshold ahead of me.

"There's no one here," she announces and then stops short. "Oh, my goodness," she adds. When I catch up to her, I stop by her side and blink rapidly at what I see.

The room is huge. There are two old-style twin beds with ornate antique headboards against one wall about four feet apart. As was commonly the case a hundred years ago, the mattresses are much higher off the floor than modern beds. Each has a bedside table and another small table to one side that features a polished wooden box and a black cat o' nine tails with thick, soft looking ropes. There is a pillow in the center of each mattress about half way between headboard and foot. Spread out on each bed is a dark sleep mask, four fleece lined leather cuffs with shiny steel rings attached, and a couple of nylon straps.

Wide spreader bars are suspended over the foot of each bed by a long strap looped over hooks on either side of a large ceiling fan. The hooks blend in with the embossed tin sheathing and are nearly invisible. Unless they were installed specifically for our use, I have little doubt that this room has been used in the past by other members of the organization who have similar tastes.

Behind each bed is a window with heavy drapes and an ornate cornice. The drapes are closed. The only light in the room comes from a little Tiffany lamp on each bedside table. At the far end of the room is a small, heavily padded pub-height table that does not match the rest of the furnishings. There are no chairs. I don't have a clue how it will be employed tonight, but I'm certain the table will be important. The only other items in the room are a huge antique triple dresser with two large mirrors and a couple of ancient wingback chairs.

"They're letting us get some idea of the room layout so we won't be completely disoriented when they blindfold us," Erin announces as she looks around.

"I hope we're not blindfolded for very long," I murmur. "I want to watch what's going on. That's what this is all about."

"I agree. Let's open the envelope and see what happens next," she suggests with a wide grin.

"Not until they tell us to," I respond just as the phone buzzes in my purse, startling both of us by the sudden sound.

"Well, here we go," I announce with a smile as I extract the envelope in response to a text from Max. "It's party time!"

"Open it!" demands Erin as she bounces up and down with excitement. "What does it say?"

With shaking hands, I slip my finger nail under the flap, tear the envelope open, and pull out a three-by-five card.

"Gimme that!" she orders as she snatches the card out of my hand, gives me a radiant smile, and quickly scans the instructions.

"Goddammit Erin, what does it say?" I ask, my voice rising from excitement. Erin takes a deep breath as a shadow of disappointment crosses her face.

"It says that we're to put our purses in one of the dresser drawers, take off our dresses, strap the cuffs on our ankles and wrists, sit at the foot of the beds, and put on our masks. It also says we're not to open the boxes. I'm supposed to text Craig just before I put on my mask and then we've to just sit quietly and wait."

"That's good news Erin. The instructions are simple. As soon as we comply and you send the text, they'll come in from wherever they're hiding." Erin gives me a long look and then smiles at me.

"You're right. Let's get started," she agrees and then a thought obviously crosses her mind. "You realize that once we put on those masks, the next time we see each other, your husband will be fucking me and mine will be fucking you."

"Wanna back out?" I ask with a grin as I start to untie my dress. Erin steps forward, finishes untying the cloth belt holding my dress in place, slips the garment off my body, and drapes it over one of the chairs.

"Hell no!" she responds as I step forward to remove her dress and toss in on top of mine. We are now both naked except for our panties and come-fuck-me shoes. Erin and I openly appraise each other's body.

Hers is perfect. She has high firm breasts with prominent nipples like mine, slender hips, a flat stomach, and elegant legs. There isn't a single flaw. I realize I am aroused by what I see.

"You are very beautiful," I murmur a little breathlessly. "Max is in for a treat."

"So are you. Craig is about to get a special gift" she responds in a voice husky with emotion as she gently places her hands on my shoulders and leans over to kiss me softly on the corner of my mouth. The kiss is brief, but I feel that flutter again. Stronger this time.

A few moments later we're in compliance with our instructions, seated at the ends of our beds with cuffs firmly strapped to ankles and wrists. I pull my mask into place as Erin taps out the text that will summon our husbands.

"I hope they get here soon," Erin whispers. "I'm already lubricating."

"Me too."

****

"Where the fuck are they?" snaps Erin five minutes later, irritation plainly discernible in her voice. I am annoyed too, but I think I know what's going on.

"They're paying us back for our little defiance when we ignored them so we could finish our drinks," I reply with a little laugh. "Serves us right, I guess."

"I suppose so," Erin responds, "but I want to get started. Now."

"So do they," I tell her. "I don't think we'll have to wait much longer."

No sooner are the words are out of my mouth, than the electronic lock clicks and two people enter the room. I know there are two of them because I can hear them doing things in different places at the same time. For a brief moment I start to panic. What if it's not Max and Craig? Before I can rip off the mask, my fears abate when I hear my husband announce their presence.

"Good evening ladies. I see that you have followed our instructions to the letter. I trust you did not open the boxes."