It Was Just A Fantasy

Was this just like any other decision? You would think about buying a new car. Next you would set a price range. Then you would think about the body type. Do you want a two-door, a sedan, a hatchback? Perhaps an SUV. What manufacturer do you prefer? What color? You go in to test drive a few of the candidates. Each step takes you a little closer to buying a new car that you might not even need or be able to afford. Until you write a check and sign the financing documents, you’re just enjoying a fantasy. When you sign, you make it a reality.

Perhaps I was picking out the body type and looking at the various models, but I certainly hadn’t gotten to the test drive stage.

I started checking out guys at the market. There wasn’t much selection, and what was on display was not very appealing.

All this time, things were still going great with Danny. How could I possibly be thinking about this? How could I stop thinking about this?

I had avoided speaking of any of this with Cheryl. But, either she was an even better friend than I had given her credit for or she was more of a buttinsky then I realized.

“So, what did you guys decide to do about the other man?”

“What we actually do is too personal to talk about.”

“You didn’t talk to him, did you?” She was also more perceptive than I had realized.

“No. But I didn’t do anything. I’m just thinking.”

“It’s been a couple weeks since we talked. If you’re still thinking about it, you’re more than just thinking about it.”

“Oh come on. You never spent a lot of time deciding whether to do something and then decided not to?”

“So now it’s deciding, not thinking.”

“You know what I mean. It’s just semantics. I’m not deciding whether to have other guys.”

“Methinks the lady doth protest too much.”

“English major.”

“Slut.”

Of course she was kidding. This was just the normal banter we often engaged in. But they do say that there is an element of truth in every joke.

How could she know if I was really deciding what to do? I didn’t even know if I was deciding.

“One more thing, Beth. On a serious note. Talk to Danny. And if, for some reason, you decide not to do that, talk to Danny.”

Maybe she had a point. I didn’t want to talk about it directly, though. That would require me to admit that I had been snooping at his computer and that I didn’t trust him.

While I was figuring out how to approach Danny, life went on. I was at the mall shopping for a pair of earrings when I discovered it might not be as difficult as I had imagined to find someone to have a fling with.

“Those amethyst earrings would look great on you. They’re perfect for your color.”

I turned to see a good looking man, mid 30’s, dark hair, slim build, dark blue professional suit, maybe a lawyer or an accountant. He had a warm smile, not too big, and a wedding band.

“I would certainly buy them for you if I were your husband.”

“Would you? I wonder if the husband I actually have will buy them for me.”

“If he won’t, I will.”

I placed my right hand on my breastbone, just above my cleavage. “Sir, I don’t even know you.”

“That’s easily remedied.” He held out his hand. “Frank Phillips.”

I shook his hand. “Beth.” It was only flirting. He didn’t need my last name.

“Beth, a beautiful woman like you should be adorned with beautiful jewelry. If your husband is foolish enough not to do it, I feel honor bound to match the gems with a gem.”

“What would your wife think?”

“I won’t tell her if you don’t.”

“Why Frank, whatever do you have in mind?”

“Nothing other than to do justice to a beautiful woman.”

“If I were a suspicious woman, I might think you have an ulterior motive.”

“If you were a suspicious woman, I might.”

Not that it was difficult to tell just from his conversation, but his body language left no doubt either. If I were to give him the slightest encouragement, he would nail me without a thought. I wasn’t ready for that. “Oh, look at the time. My husband will be wondering what has become of me.”

“What has become of you?”

“I’ve enjoyed the afternoon shopping. Perhaps some other time he will be kind enough to buy me these earrings.”

“You don’t have to go, do you?”

“I’m afraid I do. It was nice meeting you Frank.” I put out my hand.

He took it. He held onto it much longer than was appropriate. He squeezed. “Perhaps we’ll meet again some other Saturday afternoon.” He released me.

“Perhaps.”

I didn’t tell him he was being too forward. I didn’t tell him I was a happily married woman. I didn’t tell him I did not take gifts from strangers. I did nothing to discourage him except to tell him not today. It was only flirting, wasn’t it? It didn’t mean anything.

Finally I steeled myself to have the conversation with Danny.

“Do you think I’m still attractive?”

“Beth, you’re 28. Are we going to be having this same conversation for the next 50 years?”

“You mean you’re going to dump me for a younger woman when I reach 78?”

“I’ve been thinking about it.”

“I knew it. I’m losing my looks.”

“You’re not losing your looks. But what difference would it make? I love you for your generous heart. I love you for your kindness. I love you for your adventurous spirit. I love you for your sense of humor, your intelligence. And, of course, you’re dynamite.”

“Sure, you have to say that. You’re my husband.” Generous? Does that mean with my body? Adventurous? I’m willing to try other guys? Is he trying to give me some kind of code?

“Come on. You must have seen other guys looking at you when we go out or when we go to a party. I’m sure you see it at work too.”

“Doesn’t that make you jealous?” This was where I had been directing the whole conversation. Where was he on jealousy? Maybe that would help me figure out what he was thinking.

“Why would I be jealous? It would be selfish to keep such a rare beauty to myself. After all, it’s me you come home to.”

Aha! He doesn’t want to have me just for himself. Or is he just sucking up? “I don’t know. I don’t think most guys feel that way.”

“I’m the luckiest guy in the world just to have you. I can’t get worked up because other guys admire your face or your legs or your butt. Hell, they’d be crazy not to.”

“I think somebody just wants to be a lucky guy tonight.”

“I think you’re right. Any night. You just say the word.” He moved close and put his arms around me. “And the word could just be, ‘Yes.’” He moved in for a deep searing kiss that I felt all the way down to my toes. My legs felt wobbly.

Our mouths separated so we could refresh the air in our lungs. “I’m so glad that you’re not the possessive type.”

“Slavery was abolished some time ago. We’re together because we choose to be. We’re together because we love and respect and trust each other, not because I can tell you what to do. And definitely not because you can tell me what to do.”

“Though this be madness, yet there is method in ‘t.”

“You’ve been talking to Cheryl. I love it when you talk dirty.”

Dan did just fine without using his computer to work him up.

The situation was pretty clear to me. As long as I returned to him, he was happy to share me with other men. And he trusted me to return to him. His trust was well placed. I had no interest in having a life with anyone but Danny.

Our anniversary was approaching and I really had no idea what to get him. I had no idea what he was getting me either. I should have told him about those earrings.

As the day drew nearer I was no closer to coming up with a gift that would please him. There would be no point in getting him any software. Not only did he get whatever he needed, he knew better than I what would be useful to him and what would be fun.

He loves to watch baseball. Maybe I could get him the major league package. Then he could watch several games almost every day of the season. Oops. Bad idea. If he’s watching that much baseball, when will he have time for me?

Maybe I could get him a book. No. He’s already doing plenty of reading on his computer.

My deliberations were interrupted by the phone on my desk.

“Hi, sweetie. I know I didn’t check with you in advance but I wanted to make sure I could get reservations. I booked us at The Rose Tattoo. If that’s a problem, I can cancel and find something else.”

“That is so romantic. You always seem to know what I want.”

“I try to pay attention,” he said.

“Is that good for you, too? We can go somewhere else if that would make you happier.”

“I’ll be with you. Who cares where we go?”

“And I’d follow you to Taco Bell if that’s what you want.”

“That won’t be necessary. I’m happy with my reservation.”

“And I’m happy with my reservator, or whatever you call it.”

We had plans but, as yet, I had no gift.

This was serious. Our anniversary fell on a Saturday this year and here it was. I had nothing. I could just explain to him that I hadn’t been able to come up with anything special enough for him. He would understand and be very gracious about it. He would go out of his way to make me feel comfortable about not getting him a present. I’d be damned if I would let him get away with that.

I would go to the mall. I’d see something there as I shopped that would fire my imagination.

But I hadn’t. It was nearly one and I was hungry and frustrated. I suppose that’s why, when I got to the food court, I decided that the appropriate lunch would be Boardwalk Fries. I bought the big cup. By the time I paid the cashier, I had already polished off half a dozen and I was starting to feel better. We often instinctively know the proper medication.

“You’ve got to tell me how you keep that incredible figure eating like that.”

He was rugged looking, dressed like he was ready to go on a hike rather than go shopping at a mall, although the hiking gear was all brand-name. He had dark, wavy hair, kind of long, and sported a roguish smile. I put him at midlife crisis years old. The flashy jewelry definitely didn’t match the outfit.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m sorry. My wife sometimes eats stuff like that and her body no longer looks anything like yours. I was just looking for any pointers you might be willing to share.”

Definitely midlife crisis. But he was good looking and had been working his line long enough that he did it quite charmingly. “Maybe it’s just age. Maybe I’ll spread out when I get older.”

The age reference didn’t slow him down for an instant. “True. I don’t usually get to talk to teenagers about this stuff.”

“You know I’m older than that.” Don’t you?

“Not necessarily.”

He was probably blowing smoke, but he could be sincere. I chose to believe it. “I’m not that young, but thanks for the compliment.”

“You must get it all the time. You not only look young and svelte, but you’re gorgeous.”

“And you’re very smooth.”

“No. It’s true. Excuse me, sir, is this woman not gorgeous?”

I couldn’t help but laugh.

He had picked out a paunchy man with thinning gray hair who hesitated before speaking, like he was uncomfortable to be put in the spotlight. “She is gorgeous. I don’t think I’ve seen anyone nicer all day.”

“Okay,” said midlife, “Let’s get some more opinions.”

“No.” I stopped him. “I believe you. But, you’re still smooth.”

“Can I join you? We’ll just sit here, have lunch and chat. That way I’ll get to enjoy your beauty just a little longer.”

“Aren’t you laying it on a bit thick?” But I was enjoying the attention.

“You heard chubby guy. You’re gorgeous.”

“Well, just for lunch.” I guess I was getting into this. He hadn’t asked for more but I was implying that he had been implying more.

“I guess you get this kind of thing all the time, guys telling you how fabulous you are.”

“Not all the time. But I am fabulous.” I munched a few more fries.

He had General Tzo’s chicken. He ate it carefully so he could continue his verbal seduction. “Your husband is a lucky man.”

“Yes, he is.”

“But he is a foolish man.”

“Oh? How so?”

“If you were my wife, we’d be spending Saturday in bed, awake.”

“But there aren’t any really good shows on Saturday afternoon.”

“Perhaps. But that’s not the reason the television would be off.”

I blushed. This seemed to be going pretty far. But it was only flirting, wasn’t it?

No one spoke for a while. We just continued eating. But his eyes never left mine. He was really attractive, appealing. Would I have ever thought this, been in this position had Dan not been interested? No. It didn’t even take reflection. I would have dismissed midlife politely but firmly.

“What are you thinking about?” he finally asked. “I know what I’m thinking about.”

“And what would that be?” Was I moving into dangerous territory?

“Making love to your beautiful body all day. As your husband, of course.”

“Of course.” Why didn’t I object? This was way beyond appropriate.

“I have a small confession.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s just possible that I might think it not as your husband, but as a stranger whose name you don’t even know.”

“Just possible?”

“It may be happening as we speak.”

“And how will you find out if it is happening?” It was at that point that I suddenly realized that I had been becoming aroused. I was aroused. I felt a little shiver.

“I guess I’ll have to consult myself. Yes. It’s happening. I can see myself making love to you all afternoon.”

“That’s pretty bold.” But I had given him no indication whatsoever that I wanted him to stop his seduction.

“You don’t have the most fantastic experiences of your life by just sitting on the sidelines and doing nothing.”

That applied to me too, didn’t it? “No, you don’t.”

“This has been a delightful lunch. Could I interest you in an even more intoxicating dessert?”

Would I? Could I? If someone had suggested to me before I got married even the possibility that I could be unfaithful, I would not even have dignified the comment with a response. It would have been too absurd to address. Was it really unfaithful? Danny wanted me to do it. What better anniversary present to give him than his fantasy?

“I might have some interest in that.”

We got up and he took the lead out of the mall. He didn’t say anything. He was probably honoring the principle that once you’ve made the sale, stop selling.

Mr. Midlife had a red, two-seater Mercedes convertible. When this guy did midlife crisis, he did it all the way.

In just five minutes we were at a motel and he had a key in under a minute. He had done this before. He drove around the back and parked. Ever the gentleman, he quickly bounded around the car to open my door for me.

The room was clean but unremarkable. We weren’t there for the decor.

He took me in his arms and I got the first serious kiss from someone other than Dan since well before we got married. It was different but I liked it. My body liked it.

He slipped the spaghetti straps of my black dress from my shoulders. It dropped to the floor, leaving me in strappy black heels, a black, lacy demi-bra and high-cut black silk panties. The whole thing was exciting, both the forbidden nature of it and the freedom from guilt in knowing that Danny wanted me to do it.

I unbuttoned his shirt and removed it as he unhooked my bra. I let it drop to the floor. My nipples were so engorged they felt as if they might actually burst from the pressure. He ran his fingers over them and my eyes closed involuntarily as I moaned from the exquisite sensation.

I reveled in it for a while before I reached down to unbutton his jeans. I lowered the zipper and pushed them down his legs. It was not sufficient. He moved to the bed and removed his shoes so that he could complete his separation from his jeans, which he placed on the bed beside him. He stood and opened his arms to beckon me. I moved to him.

We started kissing passionately and explored the upper half of each other’s bodies with our hands. When I felt his fingers grasp the waistband of my panties, I slid my fingers into the waistband of his briefs. They slid down easily. My panties were more difficult. They were so wet they briefly stuck to me as he attempted to push them down.

His body was nothing special. It was not well-muscled but neither did it have much excess fat. His penis was nothing special either, though I’m not sure what it would have taken to make it special. At least it was erect. Had it not been, I would have been very insulted.

He reached for his jeans, removed a condom from the pocket and held it up toward me as if to ask if we would be using it. It was not an easy decision. I was on the pill, so pregnancy was not an issue. If he was careful enough to suggest protection with a complete stranger, he was probably doing the same with the others he had surely bedded and was, thus, likely disease-free. Did I want to take that small risk? What would Dan want? I thought back to the stories. The overwhelming majority used no protection. Of course disease never happens in stories. But the main reason was that the husbands liked seeing the graphic evidence of their wives’ indiscretions with other men. I would do it for Dan. I took it from him and tossed it on the floor.

I remember all of this in considerable detail because up to that point I was still being seduced. There was still some small possibility I could change my mind and leave. That possibility was gone now.

In some ways it was not as good as it was with Dan and in some ways it was much better. He paid attention to pleasing me. But it was as if it were important to show his own prowess, rather than to give me a memorable experience. Still, the freshness of his being the first man to use my body since I had met Dan made it terribly exciting.

Midlife did his best to please me, and he was successful. But Danny pleased me to please himself. He was never more excited than he was driving me crazy. Midlife did it because that’s what a good lover does.

I wanted to bring as much of the experience as I could to Dan. I made sure we did it missionary, cowgirl and doggy. We pleased each other orally as well. We spent the better part of the afternoon giving and receiving orgasms. It may sound somewhat clinical as I recount what we did, but it was thrilling and urgent, full of passion and completely free of inhibition.

When midlife was done, he took a shower to remove the evidence that would have gotten him in trouble with his wife. I did not. I wanted to bring it home and share it with my Dan.

He took me to my car and I drove home feeling as satisfied as I had ever been. Despite that, I felt my excitement rising at the thought of sharing my adventure with Danny.

He was in the living room and I extended my hand to ask him to join me.

“Happy anniversary, sweetie,” he said.

He took my hand and I led him upstairs toward the bedroom. “I have a special anniversary treat for you my love.”

When we arrived I pointed a finger at him and twirled it in a circular motion which he correctly interpreted as requesting him to undress. I slid each strap down separately and slowly, giving him my most seductive look. He was not so deliberate. His clothes practically flew from his body. It was much better than midlife. He had no excess fat and he had well-defined muscles, not bulky but well defined. He too had an erection at the ready. It was nice to know that I could arouse him without his having to resort to his fantasies. He had no way of knowing that I had taken care of it for him today.

I let the dress slip to my waist and held it there. I removed the bra. I turned my back to him and let the dress drop. Slowly, very slowly, I slid the panties toward the floor. I looked at him over my shoulder. “Danny, I went out of my way to bring you a very special anniversary gift.” He had a look of lust on his face and I thought he might rush me. “I’ve given you the gift of fulfilling your fantasy.”