Paul and Janet and T.J. And Ashlea

Paul and Janet and T.J. and Ashlea

When they exit the elevator at the second floor ballroom of the Hilton, Paul stays behind a bit while Janet walks ahead so he can observe her from behind. How could he know at that moment that he would never be able to look at his wife in the same light ever again?

She wears a tan satin blouse and a matching tan satin skirt. The blouse buttons up the front and she has it buttoned all the way to the top. The skirt only reaches to mid-thigh and is split up the left side to about four inches down from the waist. The black high heels with the gold straps cause her calves to bulge a little when she walks.

She has never dressed this way before, Paul thinks. I wonder why now, all of a sudden.

She has always been a conventional long-time married woman in her dress, but last year at this event there were some few women who seemed to want to show off their sexuality; and she had noticed how Paul had reacted when he looked at them. This year she would make sure his eyes were only on her.

Janet is 5'8" tall, the same height as Paul. The high heels make her appear much taller than Paul, but he doesn't mind; he is so proud to be seen with her, or rather, proud that other men can see that she is with him.

He rushes to catch up to her and hands the greeter at the desk their invitation.

"Good evening Mr. and Mrs. Malveaux. Thank you for your contribution. Hang on to this invitation; in case you leave you'll need to show it to get back in.

This is an invitation only, charitable event that charges $250 per person. They justify the expense because it benefits the private school their daughter graduated from last year. This year they're building a new gym. And they get to commiserate with old acquaintances and meet new ones. Besides, they get to play some serious blackjack and usually win enough to pay for their participation.

"Let me explain how the evening is to go. As you can see this room has a bar and a dance floor and tables set up around the room for free time until the dinner, which starts promptly at 6:00 in the other ballroom up the ramp to the left. Along the right wall in the other room the items for the silent auction are set up. You can bid on any item at any time. There are also bars set up in the other ballroom so you can continue to order drinks. At seven, the tables will be cleared and will be set up for either poker or blackjack, whichever you prefer to play. The dealers at the tables are hired by the school and will take ten dollars from each pot. While they're setting that up we will announce the results of the silent auction."

"We are familiar with the itinerary," Paul interrupts. This is our fifth year attending these things."

"This year, though," the hostess continues, "we have added something. Right after the silent auction results, we are going to have an additional raffle. We are asking all the men to buy a raffle ticket for $10.00. Would you like to buy a ticket now Mr. Malveaux?"

"What are you raffling?"

"We will have ten women, all of whom will have volunteered, come up on the stage, and you will be buying a chance to spend the evening with one of them of your choosing; all in fun of course."

"Oh no! Janet interjects. "You're not going to spend this evening with someone else, while I do — what?"

"First of all," Paul responds, "there are 250 men here. My chances of winning are infinitesimal. But even if I were to win, I could have her play blackjack with us."

"You know, Mrs. Malveaux," the hostess responds, "we have nine ladies who have volunteered so far. We are one short. If you would like to volunteer, and if Mr. Malveaux should happen to win, he could choose you, and that would solve everything."

"No! No! No way!" Paul says. "I'm not having some guy fawning over you all evening."

"If you buy a ticket, I'm going to volunteer," Janet says. "I'm just an old married lady, who besides you would want to spend a boring evening with me?"

"Can we think about it and get back to you?" Paul asks.

"Sure," the hostess answers, "but if someone else volunteers in the meantime we will have our ten and it will be too late for Mrs. Malveaux to volunteer;"

"Then you buy a ticket," Janet says to Paul, "and I'll volunteer. But if you win you better pick me. C'mon. It's for the school, and it might be fun."

"Okay, I guess," Paul finally concedes. He is given ticket number 87.

* * *

They go to the bar and order drinks. It is quite bright in the room as two walls are of floor-to-ceiling windows. They spend the next forty-five minutes or so mingling with some people they know from previous years and dancing a little. When at one point, Paul goes to the bar for another drink, he notices a couple of men at the bar turned around staring at something. He turns to see what they are staring at. It is Janet. She has her legs crossed and the slit in her skirt lays wide open showing her full thigh. The concerting thought strikes him: Of course someone would choose her at the raffle. Who wouldn't?

When he goes back to the table he says, "What do you say we call the evening off? I feel like a quiet evening at home, maybe watch TV or something, just the two of us."

"Don't be silly. Why would you want to do that, especially after spending all this money? We only go out like this once a year. It'll be fun. After dinner we'll play some cards and you'll feel better."

"Dinner is served" is announced on the PA. Paul reluctantly walks with Janet into the other ballroom.

* * *

At 7:00 the tables are cleared and the lady on stage announces the winners of the silent auction. Paul and Janet haven't bid on anything. They have no interest in $1,700.00 fishing rods or jerseys from local professional basketball stars.

The lady then asks for the volunteer ladies to please come up on stage.

"Well, I guess that's me," Janet says to Paul, as she kisses him on the cheek. "I'll see you in a few minutes."

By the time she gets to the stage all the other ladies are already there, lined up in a row across the stage. They are a mixed collection: some older, some younger, a couple of them very pretty and sexy. Good, Janet muses, one of them will get picked.

Janet takes her place at the end of the line.

A large fish-bowl full of ticket stubs is rolled out on a table. The lady reaches in and stirs them, then picks one out. "The Winner is number 88.

Damn, he missed it by one, Janet thinks.

"I have 88," a man shouts from the crowd.

"Come on up here and pick your date for the evening," the lady answers.

The man coming on the stage is a black man, looks to be about forty years old, tall: maybe 6 feet or more, broad shouldered, in good physical condition (no pot-belly): in an expensive suit. He is good-looking, Janet admits to herself.

"And what is your name?" the lady asks.

"They call me T.J.," he answers.

"Well, T.J., choose your date for the evening. Ladies, introduce yourselves to T.J."

T.J. steps up to Janet, looks her up and down, then looks her straight in the eye and asks her name.

"I'm Janet," she responds softly, embarrassed.

"That's a pretty name," he says to her and moves over to the next woman.

"I'm Cerise," Janet hears her say. She looks to be about thirty and is dressed in what looks like a very expensive dress and has expensive looking rings, bracelets, earrings and necklace.

T.J. spends more time with Cerise and they have some sort of conversation.

Good, thinks Janet. She seems more his type. I can get back to Paul soon.

The third woman in the line is about fifty-five and looks a bit frumpy. T.J. asks her name and moves right on to the fourth woman, having paid hardly attention at all.

T.J. continues to move down the line with the same ritual. After the last woman in the line, he turns and walks back to Janet. "I've always had a soft spot for redheads. I would like Janet to accompany me for the evening."

(Didn't I tell you Janet is a redhead? Sorry about that. Not one of those fire-red redheads, the ones with white skin and freckles. Janet's hair is golden red and curly and hangs to shoulder length. And her skin is fair and clear; no freckles or marks or blemishes, except for little crinkles at the edge of her hazel eyes when she laughs.)

But now her face is flushed. She is in a minor state of panic. What do I do now? How do I get out of this? she is thinking.

T.J. takes Janet's hand. "Come," he says softly to her, "let's go get a drink and get to know each other a little bit."

What can she do? She lets him lead her by the hand off the stage into the other ballroom and to the bar.

"What do you drink?" he asks.

He pays for the drinks and again takes her hand and leads her to a table along the windows. It is now dark outside and they sit quietly for a minute and watch the traffic on the street below. The lighting is dimmed to its lowest level, giving the room an elegant and sexy glow.

"So, tell me about yourself," T.J. finally says.

"What do you want to know?"

"Everything. I see you're wearing a ring, so you're married. Where's your husband?"

"In the other room playing blackjack. I probably should be doing the same thing. I see you are also married. Is your wife here?"

My wife's not here tonight. We own our own business, and I run the nuts and bolts end of it, my wife handles the other stuff — promotion and stuff. Tonight she is with an important client, trying to get us more business. She may join us later."

"Do you have kids?" T.J. asks.

"We have a daughter. She'll turn 18 shortly. She's away at college right now, but will be home for the holidays and we're going to throw a party for her."

"What a coincidence. We have a son who is also away at college on a football scholarship. He's about to turn twenty and we were planning a party for him also. Maybe we can throw a joint party."

"That's a little premature, don't you think?"

"Well, it's something to think about. Later maybe. What do you guys do for fun?"

"Nothing much. Paul works a lot, so we don't have a lot of time to go out or party or socialize."

"What's he do?"

"Paul's the general manager for Hub Ford, which means a lot of twelve-hour days and weekends."

"And what do you do while he's working all those hours?"

"I work part-time as a temp. They send me an email when there's a job and I can either choose to take it or not. I love it. It leaves me time to exercise and read when I want, or work when I want."

"Wow. Sounds a bit of a boring life. How about a sex life? That's good, at least?"

"That's impertinent, and none of your business. I'm not going to have that conversation with you!"

"Okay. No need to get upset. I would like to be friends with you, and I think friends should know everything about each other and be honest with each other."

"It's too soon for us to be that close friends."

"Okay. But I've got a feeling that by the end of the evening we'll be very close friends. Anyway, my wife and I have sex three or four times a week — and it's terrific."

Janet blushes. "Good for you. But you're embarrassing me and I don't want to talk about it. And for your information Paul and I are very compatible and have a very happy marriage."

"Good for you. See, that wasn't so hard to say, was it? How about oral sex? Do you guys like that?"

Janet gets up and starts to leave. "Boy! You never quit, do you? — I'm not going to talk about this. I'm going to find Paul now and play some blackjack. I would like to say it has been nice meeting you, but it hasn't."

"No. Please don't go yet," T.J. begs. I apologize. But you give mixed signals and I wanted to find out which were the real ones"

Janet sits back down. "What do you mean — mixed signals?"

"Well, first of all, you wear a blouse with the buttons buttoned all the way up to the neck like some last century school marm. But then you have a skirt split almost all the way up to your ass and your fuck me heels and legs make you look like world-class sex. So I wanted to find out which was the real signal."

"There is no signal meant. I dressed in this skirt so my husband would pay attention to only me this evening."

"Whether or not you mean to, you are sending mixed signals. "

"Well, take the school marm one."

"I don't think so. I think you fit the other one better. And by the way, my wife and I love oral sex, both giving it and getting it. In fact, I give great oral sex. When I give you oral sex you have the greatest orgasm you ever had, or ever dreamed of having. And I don't quit till you've had three or four and you're begging me to fuck you. So, you see, I had to find out."

"You are straightforward, I'll give you that. But you can put all that out of your mind. That ain't ever going to happen. This is the first time I've ever even attempted to dress even halfway sexy. I did it for Paul, but I guess I didn't know how far to go."

"Take it from me you didn't go far enough. You're a gorgeous woman and I think you know that. I can tell you have beautiful breasts and you should be proud of them — not try to hide them. At the very least that blouse should be unbuttoned down at least the first three buttons. Better yet, you should be bra-less. I'm of the belief that women shouldn't be hiding their breasts behind bras. My wife doesn't wear a bra; in fact, none of my women do."

"You have women?" Janet asks incredulously. Does you wife know?"

"Sure she does. We have a very open and honest relationship."

"Doesn't she get jealous? Aren't you afraid that, out of revenge, she might solicit some men friends of her own?"

"She's not jealous, and neither am I. She does have men friends of her own. In fact, sometimes, we even double date."

"I'm sorry. I can't understand a relationship like that. I can't accept that."

"Why? We love each other, but we don't own each other. She's human, just as I am. She has wants and needs just as I do."

"I could never live like that. Neither could Paul."

"People always say they could never do something right up until the moment they do that thing they say they could never do. Anyway, please forgive my forwardness. Stay and dance with me. One dance, and one more drink?"

"Okay. Just one. If you promise to behave yourself."

"I promise."

One dance turns into three quite fast, then one slow.

She thinks he is very smooth, a really good dancer.

He moves his hand from her waist to her ass.

She reaches down and pulls it back up to her waist. "You said you were going to behave yourself."

"Sorry. You feel so good in my arms I got carried away in the moment. Have one more drink with me?"

"Okay. One more."

"Let's go down to the bar in the lobby. They have live entertainment and they're much better than this band to dance to."

* * *

As they dance he again moves his hand down to her ass; she again pulls his had back to her waist. "Please don't do that. You promised."

"I won't say I'm sorry. It feels too good. Have you ever made love with a black man?"

"No. Of course not."

"You say that so emphatically. Are you prejudiced against blacks?"

"No. It's just that my husband and I have been together since college and are very happy together, and I've never had any reason to think about anyone else."

"So, you've never even kissed a black man?"

"No."

"But you've thought about it?"

"No. Why would I?"

"You don't know what you're missing. See there, now I've given you something to think about. Maybe even fantasize over."

"You wish."

Not a wish, a fact. That thought will pop up at unexpected times; you will see a black man at the supermarket, that thought will pop up; you husband kisses you good-night, you will wonder what it would be like; I'll bet that picture is in your mind right now."

"Let's change the subject. I don't want to talk about it anymore."

"Have you ever been to the private club on the 21^st floor?"

"I didn't know there was one."

"I'm a member. Come, let me show it to you. The outside is floor to ceiling glass, and the room rotates so you have a panoramic view of the whole city. The view is fantastic."

"I should probably go find my husband. He must be worried sick about where I am."

"Please! One drink. One dance."

"Okay, but just one."

One drink, one dance. Another drink, another dance.

Janet is enjoying herself.

He again moves his hand down to her ass. She does not remove it. He pulls her close. She feels his hardness.

The orchestra takes a break. T.J. and Janet move to the bar.

She dreamily looks out over the city. He reaches over and whispers in her ear: "I would like to lick your pussy."

"What!" As she turns she knocks his drink out of his hand. The front of his pants and shirt are soaked.

He pulls a money-clip and a key card from his pocket. "Here, put these in your purse so they don't get soaked. I have a room upstairs and I have to go change clothes. Come with me. Walk close in front of me so people can't see. I don't want them thinking I wet my pants."

"I can't do that."

"You have to. You did this to me. You owe me that."

The room is on the 38^th floor. "Use the key I gave you to let us in," he says.

Entering the room they are faced with a huge picture window with a spectacular view of the city. On the left a couch and a wet-bar. On the right a huge TV screen, then double doors leading to the bedroom, with a king-size bed with a leather chair beside it.

"Make yourself at home while I wash up and change. I'll just be a minute," T.J. says as he enters the bedroom and closes the doors.

After admiring the view a minute or two, she wanders around the room, pondering the art work. She pushes the drawer of the video recorder closed, not noticing there is a disc in the drawer; the TV screen comes alive. A young white woman is making love to a black man's cock: she licks his balls, she runs her tongue up and down the shaft, she takes the head in her mouth, runs her tongue up and down and around while she sucks. This must have been going on for a while as the cock begins to throb and he explodes with an orgasm. The woman does not remove her mouth. She keeps sucking, swallowing the cum. When he has finished cumming, she licks the shaft up and down until she has cleaned and swallowed all the cum.

The camera scams up to the man's face. It's T.J.

"That excites you, doesn't it?"

Her face is bright red. "What! No! You startled me. I didn't hear you sneak up on me."

"I didn't sneak up on you. You were so enrapt with what you were watching you didn't hear me."

"I just had never seen anything like that before. I didn't know things like that went on. Is that your wife?"

"No. It's a friend of ours. Though my wife was the one holding the camera."

"That's so obscene. How can you people do that? Doesn't she get jealous seeing you with someone else?"

"No. In fact, she enjoys it. It excites her. It turns her on. Just as it turns me on watching her with another man."

"Well, I don't understand it. Me and Paul could never do anything like that. I don't know what I would do if I saw him with someone else, and I'm sure he'd go into a jealous rage if he saw me with someone else. But I don't have to even think about that because it could never happen."

On the elevator on the way back down to the 21^st floor, he says, "I think you're all wrong. I don't think you understand your husband at all. You might be surprised how excited and turned on he might be seeing you make love with another man."

"Oh, I know him just fine. It could never happen."

"We'll see."

"No, we won't."

As the enter the club, he whispers to her: "You don't know what you're talking about. I'll bet, by the end of the evening you'll be begging me to fuck you."