Rhonda Plays a Dating Game

The dishes were cleaned and put away from dinner and Rhonda went upstairs while Danny pulled out his laptop and sat down to research some things for work. It was his normal evening activity, checking financials and researching the latest trends in the wholesale industry, of which his warehouse was a part. They lived well in a nice neighborhood full of nice people doing their nice things. Everybody put on a good front, so of course there were no issues anywhere. Everybody was happy, just like it was supposed to be.

But then Rhonda came back downstairs and all the good, nice, happy normal ended in one house. She wore a snug, mid-thigh red dress with a scoop neck and a two inch wide black faux latex belt that Danny had never seen before and she began transfering a few items from her everyday purse to her small special event purse.

Danny looked up, confused. "What are you doing?"

She smiled and closed her smaller purse. "Oh, I'm sorry, I assumed you weren't interested so I forgot to tell you before. I'm going on a date. I'll probably be late, so don't stay up for me, dear." She walked toward him to give him a kiss, but he wasn't ready to just give up and not plant his flag.

"What do you mean, you're going on a date, and you forgot to tell me? You're my wife, so what kind of date can you go on that I'm not part of?"

She stopped a few feet from his chair and tipped her head a bit. "Honey, I'm going dancing. I know you don't like dancing, at least that's what you've told me for the 27 years I've known you, so I didn't think to invite you along. If you want to be part of the date, you're certainly welcome to go with me. I think you and Martin would really get along well and you can talk while I'm dancing with some girls. There are always girls dancing ..."

"No," he said.

"Oh, ok, I thought you wouldn't want to go, but I did offer ..."

"No," he said again. "You are not going on a date."

Now Rhonda stood a little straighter. "Danny, dear, are you trying to tell me what I can and can't do? I'm offering you the chance to come with..."

Now he stood up. "You are not going on a date with, what's his name, Martin, or Tom or Dick or Harry or anybody else. You're staying home where a married woman belongs."

They stood facing each other, about five feet apart. Rhonda was about five and a half feet tall, a little higher now with two inch pumps, he was a few inches taller. She was trim, with a bit of leftover belly she hadn't been able to lose after three children, despite her best efforts to exercise. Still, her light brown hair, parted to one side in an 80s cut without the poof framed a pretty face, the dress highlighted moderate sized breasts, nipples just barely showing through the clingy fabric, and her waist flared gracefully to hips and ass before her legs tapered down to her shoes. He had short dark hair, parted on one side, a bit of a belly from too much sitting at work and not enough exercise away from work, and jeans that covered legs that used to be athletic but now had a bit of extra skin above the knees.

They had met at college when they sat next to each other in a literature class. Neither really liked lit, but they needed an English credit for their programs. They started dating at sports events, then going to parks, or just hanging out and enjoying each other. The first time she suggested they go dancing he said he didn't dance. She prodded. He added, "Ever." She had tried a few more times, but overall the issue was dead. Their wedding dance was the only time he had danced with her and she thought he did well, but he said he was terrible and hated showing everybody how bad he was. It always struck her odd that a guy who broke into management and raced up the rungs fast enough to break off and start his own company before he was 40 had so little confidence in his dancing.

They had raised three children through their 24 years of marriage. One was now out on her own with a wedding in three months. The boys were in college, one graduating in two months with plans to find a job somewhere other than near his parents. The other was dating, had a job, and he was considering staying in his apartment over the summer. Since they had starting living as just a couple again, life had gotten very routine for Rhonda and Danny. They rarely went out, had few mutual friends, and he usually worked on building his business or on home projects when he wasn't working.

She had graduated with a degree in teaching and did that for 20 years. Feeling overwhelmed by the changes in schools, she had retired and now worked in training for one of the larger companies in town. She had suggested she could set up training at his warehouse, but he told her she didn't understand the work and he would do the training himself. They had drifted farther apart, and then Martin had stayed behind after a supervisor training class and asked why she was so sad.

Now she was ready to go on a date, and her husband was telling her to stay home like a married woman should. It was too much, but she had been a teacher and had lots of training in how to not blow up when you wanted to.

"Danny, are you saying women belong in the house, but men can go out when they want to? Because you went to watch a baseball game with a couple of your friends last week."

"My friends are guys. I'm not going out for drinks and rubs with women. We're married and I think I have a right to expect you to behave like you're my wife."

Now she squinted her eyes a little. "You're suggesting I plan to go out and make a whore out of myself? I know I'm married, Martin knows I'm married. It wasn't like he asked me to dance and I threw myself on top of him."

"Wives are only supposed to go out with their husbands, not with strange guys they pick up, where did you find him?"

"He's a respected supervisor at work, and I didn't 'pick him up'. You obviously don't think very much of me. We talked, got to know a little about each other, he asked what my favorite dance club was and I told him my husband won't go dancing. He offered to take me dancing once and then we picked tonight."

"You know he's going to try to get under that dress. It's what all guys do when they get a married woman. They want to take away another man's gold."

Rhonda softened a little. "Thank you, honey, for calling me gold, but it isn't like that, or it won't be. Look, I want to go dancing and you won't take me. I offered that you can come tonight and keep an eye on things. I've offered that you can meet Martin and judge him yourself. I don't think it's fair that you're making all these assumptions."

She turned and took a step before looking back at him. "And just so we're clear, even if he does want to get under this dress, I still have to let him get there. I don't think I like what you're saying about me with your insistence that we're going to end up fucking. I'm wearing my ring, I'm planning to behave, and if you still have a problem then YOU have a problem."

Danny moved in front of her much faster than she expected. "You aren't leaving the house. I'm not letting you go on a date with some guy."

Now she hardened again. "First of all, MISTER Reynolds, he isn't just 'some guy.' He's somebody I've talked to at work several times. Second, MISTER Reynolds, if you want to keep me here you will need to physically hold me, and that is called domestic abuse for which I can file a police report. How will that affect your business if word gets out that you abuse your wife?"

He realized she had him on that point. "You say you'll behave, but you haven't been with a guy except me in a long time. How do you know what you'll do once the hips are moving and you're rubbing together?"

She took a few steps toward him until she was only a little more than a foot away. "Because, husband dear," she sneered, "because I know myself and I trust myself, apparently a lot more than you do." She softened a little again. "This guy," she patted his crotch, "is all I need to keep me home, but I just need to be able to get out and dance. Don't you understand?"

Her hand lingered on his crotch and he felt himself stirring, aware she felt the same thing under her hand. "You shouldn't be dating other men," he said softly.

"Sweetheart, I'm offering you again, come along if you want to and be my date. I plan to just enjoy some dancing tonight, then tomorrow I'll dance on your pole for as long as you can stand it, ok?" She smiled, disappointed when he didn't return the smile. "Now, it will probably be after 1, so don't wait up for me." She walked to the garage and left.

Danny stood for a while, trying to figure out what was happening. He knew one thing, though. If she wanted him to go to bed, he was going to be wide awake when she got home so he could know if she had been unfaithful.

He changed into his nightwear and continued working. At some point he dozed off, waking when he heard the door from the garage close. He shut down his laptop and set it on the floor. Rhonda walked in as he stood up and she stopped in her tracks.

"Honey, I told you to go to bed. There was no reason to stay up for me."

"Prove it," he challenged her. She looked at him, eyebrows raised for a moment before asking what he meant. "Let's see your panties."

"I knew you were going to do this. Damn you, why can't you just listen to me when I tell you I can behave myself." She reached behind and unzipped her dress, shrugging it off her shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. "You want to check my panties? You don't trust me to be a good wife just because I got to a dance?" She pulled her panties down, stepped out of them, and threw them at him. "Go ahead, look at the damn panties, and while you're looking," she bent her knees, thrust out her hips, and spread her pussy lips, "you can look in here and see if there's any cum. Hell, you can put in your fingers and see if I've been loosened. You can do whatever the hell you want to do to prove to your fucking highness self that I didn't do anything with Martin except dance with him."

She was trying to goad him, get him to back down and apologize, but he'd been having this in his head all night. He got on his knees and looked, probing her with a finger. "You're damp."

"How damp? You've been going in there for 25 years, so how fucking damp am I? Maybe slightly aroused damp, as in like I might get watching sexy people moving in sexy ways? But is it stretched? Does it feel like anybody has done anything to me?"

Danny realized somebody could have gotten a finger into her, as he did now, but if they had worked her up she would have been much wetter. Despite the demons in his head warning of unfaithfulness, he had to admit she had not had sex of any kind. It should have made him feel better, but for some reason it didn't.

"You know, Danny, all the way home I was thinking how much fun I had tonight and how I was a little worked up and if you were awake, which I did expect, I was going to jump you and be a wild woman, but after this? I'm going to bed, and since you were such an asshole about this, if I get another offer I'm going out again. Fuck you," she said and she went up the stairs.

Well, he thought, that didn't go very well, but at least he felt confident that this time she had been faithful and acted like a married woman. He went up and got into bed while she was getting dressed. To his surprise, she grabbed her pillow, turned out the light, and closed the door as she left to go downstairs.

He made his usual effort to make up to her on Saturday, though this time it did not have the usual success. At bedtime she noticed he was hard and tenting his pants, but she intentionally ignored it. Inwardly, though, she really wanted to release some sexual tension, built up from the previous night, and it wasn't easy for her to walk away from him.

Sunday he spent a lot of time on his computer, but at dinner he poured her a glass of wine and offered a shoulder rub after the dishes were done. She agreed and turned her chair so he could get her shoulders and neck without any interference. They had also played this game before, and she was wondering if he would try it again. Happily, she felt his hands sliding down from her shoulders and grabbing, massaging her breasts. Soon he was doing it with the bra unhooked. Then shirt and bra were both off and his hands slid down her belly as he leaned over and kissed her.

By now she was warming up and feeling relaxed, so she reached up and held his head as his hands opened her jeans and then slid inside. A minute later, their clothes were on the dining room floor and they were headed upstairs, naked, holding hands.

"Do you still think I have a sexy ass?" she asked as they neared the bed.

He smiled. "It has never been a question in my mind. You have the most wonderful ass in the world."

"Good, because I want to give you a good view of it. Lay on your back." A little confused he did as directed and she mounted the bed, straddling him in a reverse cowgirl.

"Come on, babe, turn around. I like seeing your face, too."

Rhonda began riding him, rocking her hips front to back. He was long enough she didn't worry too much about him slipping out. "I'll turn around soon, so you can see all of me, but we start with my ass. Is it as nice as you remember from 24 years ago?" A loud smack, followed by her screaching, "OOwww," gave her the answer and made her smile.

She was feeling pretty warm and he was grunting a bit, so she spun around and mounted him again, facing him this time. His hands immediately gripped her breasts and he pulled himself up to suck on the nipples while she rode him, doing most of the hard work. When he began responding, she knew he was close. She laid down on his chest, spread her legs and let them straighten, then pushed his legs together as they drove to the finish with her clit now rubbing his pelvic bone.

When he began pumping into her it put her over the top and she thrashed against him, moaning loudly and grabbing his arms. As the wave passed she lowered her lips to his and they kissed. "Thank you, honey, that was a wonderful massage."

"Good enough to make you forget that guy from Friday night?"

Rhonda froze for a moment, then got up, bringing a loud, "Heeyy!" from Danny as his cum dripped from her and landed on his leg. "Why did you have to say that? This was our time, just you and me, and you had to bring in somebody from outside and accuse me of something that didn't happen. Damn it, we didn't even KISS!" She started to the bathroom. "Next time you're horny, go find yourself a paper towel tube to fuck."

Danny watched her leave the room, stunned by her response. She was the one who went on a date, and then he gets yelled at for reminding her? What the hell happened to the woman he married?

Home life was tense that week. She was angry at him for ruining their time together. How could he be so stupid? She had just given herself to him, trying to give him a sexy show and asking him to think back to when she had a hot body before children, and he got into a competition? For his part, he didn't understand how she was cheating and then blaming him for mentioning it.

Friday as they cleaned up the dinner dishes she told him she was going out again. "Another date, married woman?" he asked.

She gave him an icy glare. "Yes, another date. At least while I'm out I won't be getting questions about other men. I'd say I won't get questions about who is better in bed but there won't be any way to compare, because I'm going to do just like last week and behave." They walked into the living room. "I am really mad at you, but just to be fair I will make the offer again. Would you please come with me, so I can sit with my husband and still enjoy dancing? You can watch, or ask anybody, or whatever. And we can come home together and I'll fuck you until you can't breathe."

"As far as I'm concerned, as soon as you leave this house to meet with another man you're cheating. Why would I want to go and watch you cheat on me?" His arms were folded over his chest and she just stared at him, her mouth slightly open.

"You know, maybe you're right. You should just sit here and let your imagination tell you all kinds of things that aren't happening. I can see if you don't want to dance, but why can't you at least come with me. I would be happy to tell everybody you're my husband, and I'd only spend time with Martin while we're dancing, which you don't want to do."

"Why are you suddenly trying to humiliate me? What did I do to you?"

"Honey, no, I don't want to humiliate you. Other couples go to clubs and don't always dance together. Shit, I had so many people ask why I let my husband not wear a ring I got tired of telling them he isn't my husband. Then they made comments, so I was the one getting humiliated last week while you sat here stewing." She grabbed his hands. "Please, Danny, come with me. You'll like the people at the club."

He pulled his hands away. "Go have fun with your boyfriend while I decide if I need to divorce you."

"Oh, the judge is going to love it when you explain you're divorcing me because I want to dance. If you would get off your ass and onto the dance floor, and I don't care how good or bad you are, we wouldn't even be here now. I don't want Martin. I want you, and I want to dance. Why is that so fucking hard for you to understand?"

He sat in his chair and pulled out his laptop. "You can expect a panty check again tonight."

She walked to the stairs. "I already was expecting it. It's tempting to risk everything and just give you what you seem to want, but I love you and I don't love Martin, so why the fuck would I do that? Think about ... oh, you're working again. Forget it."

She wore the same style of outfit, black this week with a red belt. He wondered if it was a set with opposite colors. He watched her ass as she headed to the door and realized he was twitching. It was just as good as 24 years ago. Actually, he thought, 25 years, when they first got naked and fondled each other. He had a condom with him and they fucked. He smiled thinking about it, then remembered why she wasn't in the room, scowled, and went back to work.

It took longer, and a few extra drinks, to get her to relax, so when she got home again she was happy and a little buzzed. All that changed when she walked into the living room and Danny stood up.

"Let's see, you married whore. What treats did he give to you?"

Rhonda did nothing for a few seconds, then she began pulling off all her clothes. "Fuck you, bastard. You want to check, go ahead and check all you fucking want. Take my temperature, check the damn dewpoint. Whatever you feel like you need to do, let's just get it over with." By the time she finished she was naked, laying on the floor with her legs spread wide. "Get a magnifying glass and measure if you want to. He offered to help me relax by taking me to his car and I told him I was there to dance. I said I was married and I did NOT INTEND TO CHEAT! So go ahead and look if that's what you need to protect your damn ego."

Danny didn't get that close, but he did look. Just like last week, she was a bit damp, but otherwise did not look as if she had been penetrated or licked or really touched in any way. He couldn't leave it alone, though, and knelt to pinch a nipple. It was swollen, but not like she was highly aroused. Holding the pinch a few seconds, she smacked him to get him to let go.

"You didn't find anything, did you?" He shook his head. "That's because there is NOTHING to FIND." She was nearly screaming at him by now. "And if you had gotten off your ass and come with me, you would know that and I would still look exactly like this. So if you are finished acting like a teenage pervert, I'm going to sleep on the couch and you can enjoy sleeping in the bed with your imagination and insecurities."