Shall we Play a Game

Title: Shall we play a game?

Primary people:

Sara Reilly -- married to Sean, very beautiful (it's a fantasy story so naturally she's very beautiful). Most stories go into detail about the woman's physical attributes (usually dwelling on her breasts and/or her ass) but this story doesn't do that. Instead, if you want to visualize how this perfect woman looks I suggest that you go online and check out the pictures of Laura Cover. I chose her because in her after Playboy days her pictures look like she's a very loving and good woman, the kind of woman that, in her arms, all the cares and worries of the world would cease to exist. However, (plot spoiler!) in some of her Playboy pictures she looks like a woman who could have used her beauty to control and almost cruelly dominate those around her. Sara works in an office with a lot of people under her supervision and she's very good at her job.

Sean Reilly -- no clear idea on how he looks, but his character is clear in my mind. He's an Alpha male, someone who can walk into a room and everyone can sense his presence. However he's a quiet man, he doesn't intentionally use his powerful aura to influence those around him. He's a very good all around couples dancer (small plot spoiler), and very much a romantic. His work is as an all around handyman, he works on commission with new home owners who want their new home to be something special, and he always delivers.

Others -- friends of Sara, Megan who is divorced from her cheating ex husband and is celebrating by being a little wild, Helen who is happily married but whose sex life is less than exciting, Claire who is single and has no intentions of giving up her independence, Beth who is a lesbian and in a good relationship, and Tiffany who works at a restaurant.

The story starts off with Sara driving up to a restaurant on Sunday morning where she and her friends have a Sunday brunch every week. One of the topics that always come up is who got some the past week and how good was it. Her four friends sometimes find themselves living vicariously through Sara when she tells everyone how her sex life has been in the last week. (To avoid shocking the other restaurant diners they always get a private room)

I'm sitting in my car outside of Monique's, wondering what I'm going to say to my friends when I go in. When I asked Sean on Friday night what I've dying to ask him for months, I didn't know what I was getting myself into. I still don't know, not really, not since I walked out to my car this morning and found the note on my window. Sean can make my heart sing and make my body ache with desire, but I felt like I needed more from him sometimes. When I asked him my question he'd gone silent for a while, and I started worrying, thinking that he was withdrawing from me, shocked that I had asked such a question. I was on the verge of apologizing, begging him to forget that I had every brought up the subject. Then he looked into my eyes, my heart, and...

Knock, knock

I only spilled a little of the coffee on me.

"I'm sorry Sara, I didn't mean to startle you".

Okay heart, slow down. "It's okay Claire, I was just thinking about something and you surprised me. I'll be in a..."

"Sara, are you all right? Is there something wrong?"

The good thing about friends you've had for years and years is that you're in tune with each other, when one of you is hurting the others know it and want to help. When Megan found out about that rat bastard Mark it took all of us to get her through the pain, but she got through it and has a much better life now. Occasionally a very good love life, sometimes she gets more you-go-girls than I do about my love life, which is saying something.

The bad thing about good friends is that sometimes it's difficult to open up if something is wrong and they want to help. Especially when it's something you did and reveals something about yourself that you maybe don't want them to know.

"I'll be there in a minute Claire, I just need to compose myself."

"Okay Sara, I'll wait for you at the door."

Deep breaths, deep breaths.

Do I tell them? Do I show them the note?

Walking through the restaurant toward our room with Claire my mind was on autopilot. Usually the food on the tables around me smell delicious, today I was barely aware that there were tables. Tiffany our server was standing outside our room, watching us walk toward her. She had just turned 19 and is a cute little devil, and I do mean devil. She'd occasionally "take her time" taking/giving us our orders when we were telling something really salacious. Sometimes she had really juicy tales to tell us! We considered her a sixth member of the group, and occasionally she'd join us for our Sunday brunch. As I walked towards her she lost that playful look in her eyes, she knew I was troubled.

"Are you all right?"

"Yes. No. I don't know."

"Would you like a glass of wine, something to calm you?"

"No, no, just some orange juice please." She didn't know that Sean and I have been trying to conceive a child for the last three months, and I was abstaining from anything alcoholic.

"One OJ coming up."

"Thanks."

I stepped into our room, and Megan, Helen and Beth were quietly laughing about something. Then they saw me, and their laughter stopped.

I need to work on my poker face.

Beth got up quickly and walked over to me. "Sara, what is it?"

"Let me sit down and collect myself for a moment."

"Here, sit here."

Slow, deep breaths, pay no attention to the four worried faces looking at you.

Helen asked the question that they were all afraid to ask. "Sara, this isn't about you and Sean trying for a child, is it?"

My voice, shaking a little, quickly assured them. "It's not. No success but still trying."

More silence.

Get it over with. "Friday night started out normal. Well, normal for us. Had a nice meal, listened to some good music, (impish voice) got into a tickle fight with Sean, then had a couple hours of good loving. Then... then, I asked him a question, a question I've been wanting to ask him for some time now."

Totally captive audience.

"I asked him how he would go about...taking me."

Totally confused audience.

Helen was the first one to recover, shaking her head a little. "What do you mean, take you. Take you where?"

"Not somewhere. Just...take me."

They all got it at the same time. Four jaws dropped to the floor, eight eyes got really big.

"You didn't!" "Oh my God!" "Sara!" "You go girl!" (Megan)

Claire asked the question that I'd been asking myself. "Sara, you're not talking about some kind of rape fantasy, are you?"

Totally shocked audience.

"No, no. At least that's not what I was asking for."

Change to totally angry audience.

"If that son of a bitch hurt you we'll...!!"

"No, no, nothing like that Meg. God, this is Sean we're talking about. It's when... I asked him that he went totally still for a minute, almost as if he couldn't believe what I'd said. I was scared, I wanted to apologize and tell him I'd never ask him that question again, to please forget I'd ever asked it."

"Didn't you?"

"I was about to when his eyes refocused and he looked at me. He reached over with his left hand, moved my hair out of the way, did his triad thing and said "I'm not going to tell you how I'd go about taking you. I think I'd prefer to show you."

Four voices, in perfect unison. "Oh my god!"

"Yeah, that's pretty much how I felt." Shaky laugh. "I started to do some serious panicking, but then he went on and told me that this was neither the time or the place, and something like this needed some planning and preparation."

Back to totally captive audience.

"What did you do then?"

"We got into some soft kissing and touching each other, and then he took me in his arms and started going to sleep."

"WHAT!" "After saying something like that he just went to sleep!?" "This is why I like women!"

"Yeah he did. While he was falling asleep he had a small smile on his face."

"Sara, we all love Sean, but that bastard!"

Laughter around the table.

"Yeah I know. I finally fell asleep, but it took me a lot longer to get there than he did."

Again Claire asked the important question. "Sara, why did you ask him that?"

Big deep breath.

"You've all know my husband. He's such a strong alpha male. He walks through the world so confident, his aura is so powerful that men defer to him, and women look at him and want him. (Four slightly guilty faces) But he's so quiet, and so easygoing that it's almost hidden, people just sense it. Our life together, both personally and sexually, is everything I've ever wanted, ever dreamed of. But I want to feel that power in him, I want him to let it out and.. and.. be dominated by him."

Four jaws hit the floor again.

"Not all the time, god, I'm not talking about a different relationship. It's just that we've meshed together so seamlessly, so perfectly, that I.. I just want to know what it would be like to be..taken by him."

Quiet table.

Perfect time for Tiffany to show up. "Here Sara, here's your OJ. Here's a menu for everyone."

Busy few moments.

"Okay Sara, what's up?"

I think I might have looked a little embarrassed because Helen said it for me. "Friday night she asked her husband how he'd go about taking her."

Tiffany is a little more (open? kinky?) than the rest of us because she got what it meant right away. Her eyes got really big and she just said "Oh wow!"

There's nothing like a little laughter to dispel tension.

"So that was Friday night and it's Sunday morning now. What's happened since then?"

Slowly opened my purse, got out the note. "When I went out to my car this morning I found this on my windshield. It's the reason I'm a little late, and why I'm so flustered."

I put it on the table so everyone could see it. Written on it in big letters was just five simple words.

Shall we play a game?

I'm sitting here on our patio drinking lemonade (Sara is abstaining so I am also) this Sunday morning, and my wife has left for her morning brunch with her friends. I've just set in motion the first part of a long process to drive her to distraction, wondering what I'm up to and when I'm going to spring it on her. There are some bits and pieces I still need to figure out and quite a few preparations to make, but most of what I'm going to do is already planned.

I should explain. Friday night had been a good evening, we'd eaten at a nice Indian restaurant, then went to a small club where we'd listened to some smooth jazz, after which we'd gone home. I was taking off my coat to put it in the hallway closet when my sneaky wife started tickling me! It was a pullover jacket, no zipper, and I had it halfway over my head when she attacked. I couldn't get the damn thing off! I couldn't see her, and my arms were stuck in the sleeves over my head, about the only thing I could do was to twist and keep moving to keep her from hitting the most ticklish spots. Unfortunately my wife knows where all those spots are (my big strong husband's kryptonite she calls it) and kept playing my ribs like they were a piano keyboard. Finally I got the jacket off and was ready to give her some of her own back. Sara wasn't about to let me do that so she resorted to foul underhanded tactics which only an evil, unscrupulous woman would do.

She started kissing me, and dropped one of her hands to cup my groin. I suppose I could have ignored what she was doing and concentrated on tickling her, get her to beg for mercy, but after four years of marriage she's well aware of what my priorities are. I have very little will power where Sara is concerned. You'd understand if you knew how beautiful she is.

(Sometimes I suspect her of having some kind of supernatural abilities. I can never really surprise her with anything, she always knows when I'm up to something, she doesn't know what it is but she knows I'm planning something. I swear I can be be miles away, spin in a circle, come out of the spin and point to where she is in the city. She almost always wins in our paper-rock-scissors contests. Someday I'm sure she's going to pull a Samantha and Darrin Stevens on me and tell me she's a witch, that she's cast a love and lust spell on me, and has me completely under her control.)

(I'd believe it and be okay with it.)

She backed me up against the wall and began rubbing my cock through my blue jeans while I was trying to pull her shirt out of her slacks so I could get my hands on her. I could feel my body start to thrum with need when I become aware of a slight but very important problem. My cock was quickly growing, but the damn thing was growing up at an uncomfortable angle in my pants! I've read stories both fictional and true on the internet (literotica.com is my favorite) and I don't think I've ever read about some guy having this problem. Is it just me, does some mischievous minor god have it in for me? I gave out with a soft "ow" and Sara, being very intimately aware of how my penis was trapped, pulled back a little, gave me an impish "poor baby", undid the button at the top of my jeans and started taking the zipper down. Slowly. While looking up at me with lowered eyelashes and licking her lips, which was making the problem worse. I tried softly banging the back of my head against the wall to take my mind off the need growing (literally) in me but it didn't help. Finally she got the zipper down and slowly slid my jeans off my hips, taking most of the restraining material from my groin. She put her left hand into the waistband of my briefs, pulled it away from my body, and reached in with her right hand to hold and move my cock into the clear.

By this time I was leaning heavily against the wall, and only by locking my knees had I prevented myself from sliding down to the floor. She started kissing me again, with more urgency now, and was softly caressing the head of my penis. While I didn't mind this in the least (duh) I couldn't take much more of this without losing it and ripping her clothes off.

With an effort of will I moved away from the wall, reached down to cup the cheeks of her ass, and simply lifted her up and pulled her to me. Two can play the teasing game, so I carefully placed her so that her clitoris was pressed against the head of my cock, and began a gentle up and down motion. Even with her slacks still between us she shuddered, and she quickly wrapped her legs around my waist and put her arms around me to allow me to more easily move her against me. We/I walked to our bedroom. Managing to walk up the stairs was both a challenge and, with the swaying motion of walking up a long flight of stairs, very enjoyable.

I carried her into the bedroom like this, and as gently as I could manage I set her down on the bed with me still pressed tightly to her, and...

A couple of hours later we were enjoying some cuddling/caressing/soft kisses time together, and...

WHAT THE HELL? YOU'RE NOT GOING TO TELL US WHAT YOU TWO DID AFTER A BUILD UP LIKE THAT? YOU ASSHOLE!

Whoa, whoa, hold your horses. I'm not going to go into details about that night because, quite frankly, it wasn't that exceptional. Hot steamy sex, couple of orgasms for me, four or five for her. Nothing out of the ordinary.

The sex in the story we're telling you makes what happened that first Friday night seem like nothing.

Honest.

Anyway, getting back to what I was saying, we were just enjoying being with each other. After a while I started to notice something was off about Sara, she was distracted, seemingly trying to make up her mind about something. Then she softly bit her lower lip, looked me in the eyes, and...

"Sean, I love you, can I ask you something, ask you for something?"

Why would she be nervous to ask me for something, I would do anything for her. "Ask me, it's yours."

She could barely look me in the eyes, and I started to get worried. "How would you go about, you know...taking me?"

I thought I hadn't heard her right for a moment. Taking her? What did she mean? Did she want to go somewhere exotic for a vacation, leave Omaha and build a new life somewhere else, or...

OH MY GOD!!

She was asking me how I would take her!

My brain went into overdrive. What did she actually mean about taking her? Did she want me to do some kind of Tarzan and Jane thing (Grunt, me Tarzan, you Jane) grab her, throw her over my shoulder, swing us up to a tree branch, (well, to a tree house) throw her down onto a mat and just fuck her as hard and as long as I could manage? I could do that, there had been a couple times in our marriage when she'd driven me crazy enough to lose control like that. No, that couldn't be it, been there, done that. Do a role playing game where she was some kind of Scarlett O'Hara and I was Brett and I'd say "Frankly Scarlett I don't give a damn" pull her into our bedroom and take her that way (Scarlett wanted him to do her). Possibly, but it didn't seem like it was that big a deal to be nervous about asking for. Could she want...

Unbidden and ugly, the thought came into my head. Was she wanting us to enact some kind of...rape fantasy? NO! NO WAY! Not even in make believe would I have anything to do with something that involved any violence at all where she was involved. I couldn't believe that she would...

Okay Sean, calm down, this is Sara. She'd never want to feel, even in a fantasy, the sick feeling of a woman violently attacked. If I ever thought she was that kind of woman I'd...

Do what, leave her?

Even the thought of leaving her made me cold inside.

If so, why did that thought cross my mind? Was it something that I came up with to keep me from thinking..

That there was something that she needed, wanted, but I wasn't giving it to her, wasn't enough for her?

Was there something lacking in our marriage that she wasn't getting from me?

Was she talking about some kind of dom-sub relationship. I couldn't believe she'd want to change what we had to that, she's a strong, intelligent woman who, if I'd tried to bend her to being subservient to me, would have tossed me out of the house in a second. God knows I didn't want that in her, I wanted a wife that expected my respect just as much as I expected hers. So what did she want?

Did she not want the reality of such a relationship, just an over and done with illusion of me taking her? How did I feel about that? We'd enjoyed a few experiences in role playing. Once with me picking up a lonely woman in a bar, and that time we went to Vegas and she played the part of a stripper/hooker who was just looking to make some money off a horny gambler. (She was worth it, even if it did take every dollar I had). How did I feel about that, creating a scenario where I was in control, touching her, caressing her, fucking her, maybe restraining her somehow so that she could do nothing but feel the passion raging in her body, unable to do anything but feel?

I could feel my softening cock reverse course and begin to harden again.

Okay, the thought of something like this excited me, but tonight wasn't the time to explore it. It would be stupid right now to do that, as we had just spent a couple of hours engaging in mutually agreed upon pleasure. It needed...

Planning.

Preparation.

I needed to build up a sense of anticipation in her, make her think about what she'd started, about what I was going to do. There's the old saying about how hunger for food makes for the best sauce.

There's hunger for different things than food.

I came back from my internal dialogue to see her looking nervously at me, maybe a little sick at what I might be thinking about her? I could see she was almost about to apologize, asking me to forget I'd heard her ask what she did. I had to stop her before she could believe this was something she should be ashamed for.