Play it by Ear Ch. 02

How Was Your Week Ch. 02

At the end of chapter one of this story our couple, Sam and Melinda Anderson, were contemplating an invitation to dinner they had received from another couple, Lars and Astrid, Gustafson. As this chapter opens the Andersons are in their car driving to the planned dinner at the Gustafsons' home. In the prior chapter Sam was the narrator. In this chapter Melinda will be the narrator.

As Sam drove us towards the Gustafson's home I was feeling very insecure about our planned evening. Sam and I had been married for ten years and had a very active sex life but we were purely monogamous. We did engage in fantasies about extramarital affairs either or both of us might have had with others, usually people we knew or had known. But they were purely fantasy, intended to spice up our own sex.

Lars was a handsome Swede in his early forties, probably ten years older than Sam and I. He managed the gym that Sam and I worked out at. His wife Astrid was a tall and very attractive Swedish blonde of similar age. Astrid was a sexual therapist who delivered lectures to groups and counseled couples on how to improve their sex life.

I knew from several conversations I had had with Astrid that the core of her philosophy was that it was important for couples to have an open relationship and to take advantage of opportunities for sexual relations with others when they arose or to even seek them out. All Astrid had specifically asked was that we come to dinner at their home. However she had implied that discussion at dinner would include her suggestions on how Sam and I could broaden our sex life beyond our current active, but purely monogamous, relations.

Lars had said nothing to either of us about dinner beyond that he and Astrid were looking forward to seeing us. Given Astrid's encouragement of open relationships, Sam and I went so far as to speculate about how much of each of us the Gustafsons looking forward to seeing. Was the dinner invitation really intended as an invitation to get naked and have sex with the Gustafsons? That was surely an extreme twisting of his otherwise customary choice of language but totally consistent with our habit of fantasizing about sex with others we knew.

Dinner had been delayed for several weeks due to conflicts with Astrid's and Sam's travel schedules. During that delay Sam and I had speculated on Astrid's intentions (seduction?) and had told each other lewd fantasies about what a foursome with the Gustafsons would be like. Our fantasies involved me having sex with Lars while Sam watched and Sam with Astrid while I watched. However, each of us was careful to later make it clear that our acquiescence to the other's extramarital sex was just part of a fantasy intended to improve our intercourse occurring as we spun out the fantasy and not an explicit or even implicit approval (or disapproval) of the other's conduct. When we did approach the real-world questions of whether we would engage in sex with the Gustafsons, or whether that was what they intended, the only answer we could come up with was agreement that we would go to the planned dinner and that we would 'play it by ear,' whatever that meant.

In summary, we had spent the last three weeks fucking each other silly, speculating about the Gustafsons' intentions, and carefully refraining from deciding how we would respond to a proposition if one was made. Now it was Friday night and we were driving to dinner. I was uncertain, nervous, and horny; very, very horny. And I was pretty sure Sam was in the same condition.

Astrid had told me that dress would be casual. Sam was wearing a pair of Dockers and a golf shirt, pretty much his customary work clothing as a software salesman. I had elected to wear a loose-fitting skirt that ended a couple of inches above my knees and loosely fitting pullover top that hung nicely over my firm C-cup breasts. As I had been preparing for the evening, I considered omitting undergarments, but had decided that would be letting my lewd imagination take control. I wasn't sure that going commando would be consistent with 'playing it by ear.'

The Gustafsons' home was a very large one in an upscale neighborhood, much more expensive than where Sam and I lived. I held Sam's hand as we stood waiting for someone to answer the door. Our grips were tight, belying our mutual insecurity about the evening ahead. As we heard footsteps approaching the other side of the door he whispered in my ear, "Showtime dear,"

I responded by squeezing his hand and whispering, 'play it by ear.'"

Sam responded by squeezing my hand.

Neither of us had a clue as to exactly what we meant by 'play it by ear,' but that is what we were going to do.

When the door opened Lars and Astrid were both standing before us, Lars dressed in a fashion very similar to Sam and Astrid in a long flowing skirt that came to the floor, just covering her sandals. Her top was a semi-transparent blouse that was fastened, barely, with a couple of hooks that left a lovely expanse of chest and cleavage exposed. It was quite a change from her customary business suits worn for her counseling sessions and lectures. Her thick blonde hair, normally worn in a conservative knot atop her head, was now allowed to hang down falling with loose curls well below her shoulders. Her make up, normally barely noticeable, was heavier but not slutty. It emphasized her high cheek bones and her wide blue eyes. She looked stunning.

As I stepped in Lars stuck out his hand in greeting. Once he had my hand in his grip he pulled me into a boob smashing hug that included a brief and sensual kiss just below my left ear. I looked to my side and saw that Astrid was doing the same thing with my husband.

When we parted, Lars shook Sam's hand, saying, "Come with me and let's make some drinks for these ladies."

As they stepped away Astrid wrapped me up in a greeting hug every bit as aggressive as her husband's had been. She was wearing a fragrance that I found enticing, or I was at least sure Sam would. I decided that her large breasts were clearly unconstrained by any form of bra. "Oh I'm so glad you two could make it. We have so much to talk about tonight," she said as she released me. That was followed by gushing compliments about how attractive I looked tonight and how my clothing matched my figure perfectly.

Alright I thought. My first question about the evening has been answered. The Gustafsons' objective tonight is seduction. That left the question of how Sam and I would respond. I felt the low fire of lust in my system crank up just a notch as she mentioned how much we needed to talk. Somehow a conversation with Astrid always ultimately came around to sex and her views about the importance of open relationships.

Astrid took my hand and led me to a huge living room where we sat opposite each other on facing couches. The furnishings were opulent. I remember briefly wondering how the Gustafsons could afford a grand home like this one if all he did was manage a gym. I guessed that Astrid's sex therapy business must be a profitable one. "After all," I told myself, "we all know that sex sells."

"My, but you have a lovely home," I said.

She smiled and said, "Thank you. Credit for it really goes to Lars; well Lars and his family. The Design and decoration are by Lars, but the money came from his family. His father is a very successful industrialist in Sweden. The money he makes at the gym and that I make helping people improve their sex life wouldn't touch this."

"Oh, I see." I didn't know what else to say. I hadn't really expected such candor. I was thinking, it really helps to marry well, but of course I wasn't about to say that. Instead I headed for a different subject saying, "I like your hair down. I've always seen you with it put up and coiled atop your head. It looks lovely as it is."

She smiled. "Oh that's just for work. I need to look very austere and professional if I am going to advise people about their sex lives. She paused for a moment. "It's an interesting balance. I want the men to find me attractive, even sexy, but not slutty. But it is even more important to avoid having their wives intimidated by me. If that happens my message just blows right past them."

"I have adopted the white blouse, the conservative woman's business suit, low heels, and my hair piled atop my head to try to strike the necessary balance. Honestly it gets a little boring after a while." She laughed and shook her head, letting her long hair fly about. Pushing it back from her face she continued, "It's so tricky. Take the shoes for example, I wear heels because I want the men to notice I have attractive legs, but they can't be tall heels because of the need not to intimidate the wives. And god forbid that they were a flashy gold or silver or worse yet a come fuck me red. No that just wouldn't do."

"And make-up. It's very conservative, but still there."

"Then of course there is the issue of my bosom. I mean it is what it is . . ." she paused and held up her breasts which were obviously quite large and round and soft. "Lars loves them. But I spend money to have my suit jackets tailored to deemphasize their size. The objective is for men to notice them and again for their wives not to be threatened."

"How complicated," I responded. "I have to say though that your hair looks lovely as you are wearing it tonight and what I saw of your legs when we met for coffee was also very attractive." I refrained from commenting on her bust that she had smashed against me when greeting me at the front door.

"Thank you," she said. "I do work at it." As she spoke she raised one leg and crossed it over the knee and upper thigh of the other leg. That is when I realized that her long dress was split almost to her waist. As it fell away I could see beautifully manicured toes peeking from a bejeweled sandal, a shapely arched foot, perfect calves, and long sexy thighs; all things her clients never were invited to appreciate.

"Oh my. Yes I can see how some women might be intimidated by you."

"But I hope you're not."

"Oh, no. No, of course not." I wasn't either. The shocking part was that my emotional reaction was closer to lust. Of course I had always noticed handsome women, but none of them had ever generated this kind of reaction in me. Beyond a bit of kissing practice with a girlfriend in my youth I had never considered women as a sexual partner.

"Good. It is always so much more difficult to discuss things with a couple when one of them is intimidated by me."

"Or lusting after you?" I asked.

She laughed again. Well, I kind of expect some of that from the men. It may be subtle and they may be working to hide it, but it's not all that hard to see when you know what you are looking for. It's more complicated when the lust comes from the female partner. That changes the dynamic; sometimes in a weird way."

"How so," I asked.

"Well, how would your husband Sam feel if he thought I was trying to seduce you?"

Now it was my turn to laugh. "I don't know. It has never come up."

"Because you aren't attracted to women?" she asked—a question easily translated to, 'do you find me sexually attractive,' I thought.

"Usually not," I answered, with what I hoped was deliberate ambiguity. "But we've never discussed it because I never shared it with him."

"Do you discuss other men you find attractive."

"Oh yes, regularly. And other women he finds attractive."

"I see, and neither of you becomes jealous?"

"No. In fact we often make up fantasies about making love with others we have met. It is one of our ways of keeping our sex life interesting. It works best if the fictional other is someone both of us know." I surprised myself with the candor with which I had just responded. 'Playing it by ear,' I wondered?

"Hmmm. Very interesting." she said. "and how about men Sam finds attractive. Do the two of you have fantasies about them?"

"You mean with Sam?"

"Yes?"

"No. Never. He has never expressed any interest in other men, nor have I made up fantasies about myself and other women. I guess we are pretty much heterosexual." Admittedly I was beginning to wonder about myself as I stared at Astrid's ample bust and long sexy legs.

"I see."

I had this feeling she didn't believe me or didn't want to believe me.

That was when Sam and Lars walked into the room with a pitcher of Margaritas and four glasses. Lars set the glasses and pitcher down and poured four glasses. Sam brought one to me and Lars another to Astrid, each husband taking a seat next to his wife.

Sam spoke up quite quickly, which was unusual for him. He was usually a bit reserved in a social setting with people we didn't know well. "I understand Astrid that you are a psychologist?"

"Yes," she replied. "I specialize in therapy for couples who are not satisfied with their sex lives. Both in lectures I do around the country and in direct sessions with a couple that wants my specific assistance, beyond what I can provide in a lecture."

Sam smiled. "Well, I must say that sounds a good deal more interesting than selling software. But I've no idea how I would go about that kind of a conversation. Software and business data processing needs are something I understand and that makes it easy for me to talk to clients. But sex? I'm not sure I would know how to launch into a conversation about someone's sex life. I couldn't very well just ask them if they believe they are getting laid often enough."

Astrid laughed. "No that might be a bit much for an opening line. But you know it is pretty much where I want to get with people, whether it's in a personal session with just one couple or in a group lecture. I want them to be thinking about whether they are getting sex of the quantity and quality that they would really like to have. Once I get them there, they are more likely to be ready to listen to my main message."

Sam nodded. "Kind of like asking a businessman whether his current accounting software closes his books easily and efficiently at the end of each accounting period."

"Yes, but much more interesting for most people," I said. Everyone laughed in response to my interjection.

"And so what is your main message that you want to get across?" I knew Sam knew the answer to this question because, Astrid had told me in one of our coffee sessions and I had shared it with Sam. I was wondering just a bit why he had asked. How much did it tell me about what 'play it by ear,' meant to him?

Astrid took a log pull on her drink and then set the tumbler on the end table next to her. She leaned forward, elbows on her knees exposing a great deal of cleavage as she did so. One less button I thought and her breasts would fall out. I felt a shot of lust in my groin. Why was this woman getting to me, I thought?

She pushed her hair back, smiling and said, it's a little bit different depending on who I am talking to. But just like you I have to work up to my message. I don't just start out with 'How's your sex life,' just like you don't start out with, 'You have to run our X-95C Enterprise Management Package if you want to make more money.'"

Sam laughed. And agreed with, "Nope. That's guaranteed to lead to a swift trip to the front door. Basically I try to get them to tell me about their business and what problems they are having with it. Most people love to talk about their business. Then I can segue from their problem to my solutions."

"Of course," she responded. "My challenge is that most people are not quite as anxious to discuss their sex life as your clients are to talk about their business issues."

Sam was on a role so I just let him keep talking. Besides, I was fascinated by the view I had of Astrid's breasts. Not everything, but enough so my imagination was working busily to create a picture of the parts I couldn't see. Did she have big nipples that were getting aroused by our presence, I wondered? My mind had one foot in the gutter with the other sliding that way fast..

"So how do you get around that problem," Sam asked.

"Well it differs," she said. In my direct counseling sessions I try to get people to tell me why they have come to me, which obviously involves their sex life as it is understood from the outset that I am a sex therapist. Depending on what they tell me I may send them home with specific exercises they can do at home—walk around nude, talk dirty, watch porn, tell each other their fantasies (she looked directly at me when she mentioned fantasies). Oh Sam and I are good about fantasies, I thought. Especially about Lars and Astrid.

Sam nodded his head.

But it differs greatly from client to client. Some are ready to move forward quickly and others have to be brought along step by step.

"And your ultimate goal is?" Sam asked. Was he asking about her business goal or their goal for this evening?"

Astrid rose and walked across the room to refill her tumbler. "Refills anyone?" she asked turning towards us with the pitcher in hand and briefly ignoring Sam's question.

Sam and I had both emptied our glasses. She walked across the room and leaned forward as she refilled our empty tumblers, giving each of us a good long look at her breasts. Her loose-fitting blouse billowed open as she leaned forward letting me see her nipple on both breasts and, I assume giving Sam the same view. I felt the fire in my loins burn hotter.

After refilling her glass she returned to her seat next to Lars leaning back and again crossing her legs and letting her dress fall away to expose what seemed miles of naked leg to my lustful mind. I had never had a woman affect me this way.

"Okay, now to return to your question Sam. Based on the research I did for my PhD I have concluded that monogamy is not a natural state for humans. It is a concept we have accultured ourselves to over centuries, mostly through religion. I am convinced that humans are healthier and have better, more successful, relationships with their significant other if they have an open relationship. By that I mean each partner is free and does in fact have sex with other people. It works best, if they share their experiences with each other." Again, my question remained, was that her standard sales pitch or just for tonight?

"Like we do with our fantasies Sam," I interjected.

Sam looked at me. Had I gone too far?

He looked back at Astrid, "That sounds like a tough sell."

"You must remember that people don't come to me unless they are already unhappy with their sex life. I suspect it is always easier to sell a new software package to someone who's systems are regularly crashing."

Sam laughed and said, "That's true."

"But I'm curious," he continued, "How does your pitch work in a room full of people? You can't send them home with training tasks and then ask them to report back in later."

Ingrid smiled. "No in that forum I am mostly just selling copies of my book on the topic. But while the approach is similar it has to be lower key. I use a grammar school show of hands method to get their minds on sex. I start out by asking, 'How many people are here today that like sex? Raise your hands.' One or two brave souls will start it off and if I don't get more followers, I will say 'Really the rest of you don't like sex? Go ahead and raise your hand if you like sex. You aren't wearing name tags.' That tends to get people used to responding and from there I slowly ramp up the question until I get to my big ask. 'How many people here think about cheating on their spouse.' Remember that by this time I've gotten them to admit to enjoying masturbation, oral sex, mutual masturbation, voyeurism and exhibitionism, sex in the outdoors, and a long string of other forms of activities commonly characterized as sexual misconduct.

But cheating? That's the big one and the audience goes silent no matter what they have already confessed to. Hands are folded in laps and spouses are either glaring at each other or looking away."