My Husband's Gift

When John started to drive home, I objected strenuously, this was suppose to be a night out, a restaurant doesn’t qualify. I became very cross, told him he’d become an old man before his time. I told him other couples go out, do wild and crazy things, we go out eat dinned and go home. Our life together was so fucking boring. I told him if he didn’t want to take me out fine, he could go home and play with his computer but I was going out. When John turned the car around he yelled, "So you want wild, I’ll show you wild." We drove for about twenty minutes, then finally arrived at a dance club, one I didn’t even know existed.

It wasn’t long after we arrived that I had to admit John picked the right club for a wild night. The band wasn’t much good, their playing to loud, but their was something about the beat that was stimulating. The crowd seemed wild, a strange mix, the women appeared to be my age or up, the older women I’d guess in their early fifties. Almost all the women seemed quite fix and all were attractive. The men all very fit indeed, somewhat younger in general age then the women, all of the older women seemed to be with much younger men. Over all a handsome bunch of men.

We hadn’t been sitting more then five minutes when I watched a couple on the dance floor getting sexual with each other. She had turned her back to him, after she had, he pulled her close, ran both of his hands ran up under her T-shirt, that caused the shirt to raise exposing both of her breasts. She knew it, she made no attempt to pull it down, I wouldn’t have either. I longed for John to take me out on that dance floor, unbutton my dress and do as that man had done to his partner. I’d never been to a club like this, the attitude of the patrons was blatantly sexual. It even crossed my mind that a place like this must have problems with the police. Maybe it shouldn’t have effected me but I liked it, I liked how blatantly sexual it was. It was very stimulating indeed.

Being in that club didn’t change a thing between John and I, he was just as cold to me at the club as he’d been at dinner. We danced a few times but he didn’t even hold me close, it was more like not holding me then holding me. I longed for his touch, I wanted his hands caressing me, exploring my body. John is normally a wonderful dancer but he just seemed to be going through the motions. Neither of us was talking, I was trying but the conversation was one sided. Doubts started to creep into my head again, was John having an affair, had he fallen out of love with me. I’m not much of a drinker but I started to be, it wasn’t long before I’d surpassed my normal limit.

In truth my mind was full of mixed emotions. On one hand I had this nagging doubt, made worse I’m sure by the alcohol. I was angry, I was trying so hard to move us closer, John seemed to be trying equally as hard to move us apart. Underlying all of this was this sexual current, brought on I’m sure by lack of sex, feeling so naked, so sexy, the looks I’d gotten from a number of men, and the activities of the patrons. Add to that, there was this scrumptious guy who kept eyeing me over, real eye candy. His eyes seemed to devour me, the idea that such a gorgeous man couldn’t keep his eyes off me, made me even hotter. We made eye contact several time, every time we did I felt my body flush with sexual excitement.

I wanted to have fun, I didn’t want to just sit there looking at John sour puss of a face. Call it revenge, getting even, whatever, I turned very icy to John. On the inside I was on fire, but I’m absolutely sure if someone close was listening to me they’d have felt I was an ice queen. I started digging at John, I’d point to a couple having fun, then say why can’t you be like that guy. How about that one. I was drunk as hell, and given the situation I was a very mean drunk. I really don’t remember all I did or said but I surely belittled John much more then he deserved. A time or two disparaging his sexual ability also. Mean is an understatement.

As you all know, drinks have to be eliminated at some point, I was way past my point when I told John I had to go to the rest room. Invariably there’s always a line when you need to go the worst, by the time I got into the lady’s room I was almost to the point of wetting myself. By the time I got out, the last few drinks I’d had, had taken effect. I wasn’t all to steady as I walked out of the hallway and started across the dance floor to our table. As I approached our table I realized it was vacant, no John. A number of speculations went though my head, the one that lingered was that he’d left me and gone home without me. Not really reasonable, John would never do that, but in my confused and somewhat drunken state, he had done just that. As a matter of fact thought that he’d left me to be with his lover was the one that stuck.

As I walked across the dance floor, anger, mixed with fear, over took me, "I’ll teach you to leave me, I’ll just find my own ride home, if that happens to be someone else’s home so be it," was the thought running through my head. It was really just a thought, what was really in my mind was a desperate thought about getting home. I had no money, I didn’t even have a credit card, the sum total of the contends of my purse included my drivers license, some make up, cologne and two tampons. Truth is those two thoughts fit, no way home, no money to pay for a cab, I’m at a club full of men, a lot of them I’m sure willing to give me a ride. Of course they’d want something in return, shall we say, a ride in return for a ride. Maybe there was more at play here then just that, I’m a smart cookie, I could get someone to give me a ride and pay nothing. Maybe it was a combination of things, John’s attitude, his leaving me, the seven year itch as they say. Whatever it was, anger, revenge, or lust, the thought in my head was picking someone up, getting a ride home, but only after having sex with them. Thoughts aren’t actions, I’ll never know if I would have acted.

Just before I got to our table a man asked me to dance. The man who’d been paying so much attention to me earlier. It really wasn’t a request for a dance, it was just a polite way of saying, "I’ve picked you to dance with, you well." That may sound strange, but this man did not lack confidence, it was so evident. I would in most cases have been offended by his attitude, but looking up into his face, I knew that it was just that way with him. He needn’t ask, rarely if ever had he been turned down for anything, at least things between a man and a woman. If my world had been perfect, if John and my relationship was perfect, I would have still found it hard not to have taken his hand as he lead me to the center of the room.

After Mark lead me to the floor, his hands slipped around my waist pulling me tight against him, no pretense whatsoever of this dance being casual. As I put my arms around his neck holding my purse with each, I laid my head against his chest, he smelled so good, I let completely go, I just responded. As he spoke to me I was consumed by his voice, a voice like no other I’d ever heard, so sensual, almost sexual in nature. If a man’s voice could bring a woman to orgasm it was that voice. I leaned back looking up into his eyes, as he spoke my attentions was drawn to his lips, lips that seemed so kissable. Lips I wanted on mine, lips I wanted to taste, lips I wanted to feel over my whole body. Never in my life had I been aroused so fast, and aroused only by hands touching my lower back, eyes devouring my inner being, words I wasn’t even hearing but words spoken by a voice I couldn’t get enough of, nor resist.

If I spent the rest of my life analyzing that moment, analyzing my own reactions I couldn’t find the answer. I shouldn’t have been aroused. The worst thing my mind could envision had just happened, my husband had left me and gone to another woman’s arms. Moments before I’d had visions of living the rest of my life alone and lonely, struggling, raising my children without the only man I felt I could ever love. Those thoughts, the thoughts of my husband had been replaced by other thoughts, thoughts of the things I envisioned doing to this stranger, carnal, lustful things.

As his hands started to explore my back, I didn’t try to stop him, I ground my body into his. As he paused finding no bra I lusted, I wanted him to know I wasn’t wearing one. As his hand explored downward, again finding nothing, I became so wet, I wanted him to know I was nearly naked, I wanted him to long for my naked body against his. As I felt his arousal growing against my belly, I was esthetic, I was effecting him just as he was effecting me. I wanted his manhood, I stroked it with my body, if he hadn’t been holding me so close I may have done so with my hand. As I felt his hand move up my side, then resting on the side of my breast, I again leaned back looking him in the eyes, inviting him to do more. I moaned deep in my throat as his hand covered my breast. I put my hand on the back of his head, pulling him to me as I stood on my toes to reach his mouth. The kiss gentle, tender, passionate. I was lost in my lust, lost to a stranger, more lost in lust then I’d ever been, he could have taken me anywhere done anything to me and I don’t think I would have stopped him.

It’s then when I saw John leaning against a column in the back of the room, half hidden as if he was spying on me. I was seeing him as if though a fog, my mind trying to make sense of it all, I shouldn’t be doing this, my husband is watching, the price to high, why am I not stopping. My body, on the other hand rebelling against the thought of stopping, it all felt so beautiful, if anything the knowing John was watching heightened the carnal, lustfulness of it all. In matters of pure love the mind and heart win out over the carnal, I’m not going to say it wasn’t a battle, it was, I was so sure it wouldn’t matter, John was lost to me, but my heart won out and I pushed myself away from Mark. As I walked to John my heart was beating as if it was about to explode, the only emotion I was feeling was fear.

I found John not in the least bit angry, not in the lest bit jealous, I was puzzled. The look on his face was one of lust, his mouth was slightly open with his, something just turned me on look, a look I know so well. Like I said I was lustful, I was horny and it looked like John was going to be the beneficiary of those feelings. I pushed my body into his, put my hand behind his head, and pulled his lips to mine. I may have been hesitant to place my hand on Mark’s aroused manhood, I wasn’t my husband’s, finding him as Mark had been, I did so with a questions, "Why?"

I could go into a lot of detail about what happened. Maybe even give you a word by word account. To me it’s intriguing, and very unsettling. It isn’t everyday you hear from your beloved husbands lips that he was turned on by watching you in the arms of another man. Perhaps I should have been enraged when John said he wanted me to go further, he didn’t have to tell me how much further, it shown bright in his eyes.

I really don’t want to make light of what transpired between us. An event so life changing, should never be made light of. The very suddenness of John desire, a desire he swore he didn’t know he had. My shock at his revelation, the internal lust that generated. The lust I saw in John’s eyes as we talked it out. My anger, short lived as it was, bitterness and pain remained. Maybe at any other time, an anger that could have taken years to get over. Somehow, finding out my husband desired to be cuckolded, didn’t seem so bad at this one moment in time, a moment in time I was so ready to cuckold him. Life is a two way street, how could I remain anger, I’m sure that if I hadn’t seen John hiding, if short order I would have left with Mark, oblivious to the consequences of that actions.

To say I didn’t find John’s desire strange, somewhat perverse, would be a lie, finding out he actually wanted to watch, made it all the more bizarre. I want you to understand this is bizarre behavior, I may have wanted to open my marriage, have sex with others, but that is not the same as getting off watching your beloved having sex with others. There was a part of me offended by the whole idea but there was a stronger part of me that found the idea to be so wicked, carnal, delicious. I spotted Mark out of the corner of my eye, I’d never wanted a man this badly, I could have him, I didn’t have to cheat to do so, the very thought of that was delectable. It’s hard for me to really understand what was happening to John, was it a total transformation or was it just a final admittance of a hidden desire. I didn’t know until later.

For me it was more a matter of self awareness, I didn’t need to transform myself, just allow those parts of me so well hidden, so submersed to emerge. I already was changing, I was wearing, or not wearing as the case may be, the evidence of that. My reaction to Mark, my willingness to believe that John had left me, knowing inside he’d never do so. Mark in my mind was the ideal person, but the truth is, it could have been any number of men that night.

In that twenty or so minutes I did not become a new women, but I did admit to myself who I really was. I admitted to myself that my desire for other men was much stronger then I’d allowed myself the luxury of understanding. I admitted to myself I wanted to be more sensual then I had been, even more blatantly sexual. I wanted men to desire me, lust after me, in a way I wanted to be on display to other men. I admitted to myself, in a very carnal way, the idea of my husband watching me take on a lover turned me on.

That I suppose was the final piece of the puzzle for me, as much as I loved John, I wanted him to watch me being made love to. Despite all of that, despite knowing I could be with someone other then John and not feel any guilt, it still is painful knowing your husband wants you to have those feelings. You expect your husband to possess you, be jealous of other men’s intention. It’s what I wanted, even in an open life style I would have wanted some of that, yes I’d want that controlled, but I still would have wanted John to feel possessive of me. I was hurt knowing he didn’t feel that, there is bitterness in that feeling.

By the time our conversation was about over I knew I could fulfill John’s desire, in so doing I knew I’d start one of my own, one that I knew would be a part of my life for at least the foreseeable future. When John gave me this look, a need for an answer look, an answer to a question he hadn’t asked. All I said was "I’ll try." Something inside told me to go slow, make him believe this was only for him. In John’s mind that was how it was between us, I did for him. I didn’t ever mind that, I cultivated that belief, it made him happy, I was in love with John, I could live with that little lie. Perhaps it was at that very moment, I decided that John had to learn I wasn’t doing this for him, I was doing this for me. Maybe it’s that moment too when I realize John needed to somehow feel my pain, my bitterness. How to accomplish that was unknown at the time.

Somehow I knew that Mark would not want us watched, I don’t know how I knew but I knew. I told John I needed time, I needed to spend some time getting to know Mark, maybe he wasn’t even interested in making love to me, I knew that was an untruth. I told John he needed to disappear, he could stay at the club, he could watch as I spent time with Mark but I didn’t want to see him. When I made my decision, he’d know, I assured him he’d know. I told him to give me the keys to the car, he’d have to take a cab home, I wanted control of where Mark and I went, if I elected to make love to Mark, it was going to be in our bed, in our home, where I’d feel safe, I wasn’t going anywhere strange with a stranger. If he wanted to watch, it was up to him, but he’d have to hide, for all I cared he could have hidden under the bed, but I suggested our walk-in closet, a great view of our bed from there. I looked into John’s eyes, then stressed, "If I do this for you, you have to promise me you’ll be home before I get there, I don’t know Mark, I would not feel safe if I didn’t feel your presents."

That really was a concern of mine, maybe if I was single and used to dating it wouldn’t have been. It was also my way of assuring John I was doing this for both of us, he was important to me. It wasn’t a lie that John was important to me, it wasn’t a lie I wanted his presents, but it was a lie I was doing this for both of us, this was about me, and somewhat about Mark. Granted I liked the idea of him watching me being taken by another man, but that to was about me, it increased my lust, my desire, his pleasure from his voyeurism was of no concern to me. As you see pleasure was not my goal in his watching, I just hadn’t come to gripes with that yet.

I gave John one last kiss then walked over to where Mark was sitting with a group of men, I asked him to dance, truthfully I’d never been that bold in my life. I honestly can say I never wanted anyone so badly in my life, at least not physically. I hate to say this but that includes John, there was something about Mark, some quality missing in other men, I just knew that a night with Mark would be one of the best nights of love making I’d ever experience. The first thing Mark did was ask me who John was, all I said was "He is at the moment not relevant." I didn’t intend to say that, but it was true, at that moment in time John was no longer a relevant factor, my attention focused solely on Mark.

Mark and I danced two more dances, with each he explored my body at will. I did some exploring of my own, finding out for sure, what I’d suspected earlier, I was going to find out what it was like to make love to a man with a big penis. That was nice to know but not a factor in making love to Mark, just a bonus. Mark must have sensed my desire to be displayed, he slide his hand between the opening in my dress, pushed it back over my hip then rested his hand on by left cheek, we stayed like that until the dance was over.

After those two dances, I saw a booth open up, I took Marks hand and lead him to it. I didn’t have to ask him to sit next to me, he did. The next hour or so seemed to fly by, we talked about everything. In that hour I think Mark knew more about my sexuality then John did after 12 years of marriage. I also found out about the club, about it being a private club, members had to be invited to join, and only women could invite a man. Someone had to have invited John, that someone was a woman. I wasn’t sure that meant anything, maybe he had cheated, at that moment is seemed unimportant. I also found out pretty much anything went at this club, you wanted to do it you just did it.

My attraction for Mark grew, now not just merely physical, I truly started to like Mark. He had an easy going personality, he was able to make me smile, laugh at times. Admittedly there was this strong sexual attraction, his one hand on my hand, his other on the booth just touching my thigh, but it had not progressed, in a way that had disappointed me. It’s then that I eyed John standing at the far corner next to the bar, Mark’s eyes followed mine.

"I see our friend has reappeared, may I again ask who he is?" the tone in his voice told me the question would not be so easily avoided this time.

My face flushed in embarrassment, if you don’t think it’s embarrassing to tell a man you intend to bed that your husband is watching, you truly don’t know much. I saw no point in hiding who John was, "He’s my husband."

At quizzical look crossed Mark’s face, "Are you two swingers? You two having problems? Are you separated? Are you trying to make him jealous? Is he stalking you?"