Strange Question

We'd just sat down to dinner, when my wife asked me what I thought about our upstairs neighbor. I answered truthfully that I didn't think anything about him, because I didn't know him. She said it was a her, not a him, and I said it made no difference, because I didn't know her either. She told me she was sure I knew her, the good looking girl with the dirty blonde hair. And I told her I only knew one good looking girl in our building, and that was my beautiful wife. As for the rest of the females, almost all of them had dirty blonde hair, since that was the fashion this year. She smiled at the compliment part of my reply, then said she was talking about the other good looking girl. Again, I told her I didn't know who she was talking about, because I hadn't seen any other good looking girls.

My wife said I had to know who she was, because she'd been here for over 6 months. And I told her that didn't mean anything, we might just not have crossed paths yet. I mean, I left for work early in the morning, and came home at night, so it was easy to understand why I might not have seen her. Or maybe I'd seen her, but didn't think she was good looking, so I didn't know who she was talking about. She said that this girl was definitely good looking, but I was just afraid to admit that I'd seen her.

I asked why I'd be afraid to admit whether or not I'd seen someone? Because she might get jealous if I told her I thought some girl was good looking? Had I ever been afraid to tell her I thought some movie actress was pretty? And when we went to the beach, had I been scared to say I thought this girl or that one looked hot in her bikini? So, if I thought some girl in our building was pretty, why would I be afraid to say so? She said that was exactly why I'd be afraid to say so. Those movie stars and the girls on the beach didn't live in our building, but this girl did. At that point, I used a word I don't use very often with my wife, and that's the word Whatever. She was here all day and probably saw this girl a hundred times. I went to work and came home, and unless we happened to go in and out of the building at the same time, I wouldn't have seen this girl. But if she wanted to believe otherwise, that was her business.

She dropped the subject then, and I didn't hear any more about the girl until the weekend rolled around. We'd just gotten back from doing the grocery shopping, and putting everything away, when my wife said she wanted to go for a walk. I told her ok, have fun, but she said she meant both of us . The weather was nice, and it had been a long time since we'd gone for a walk together. So, could we do that, walk down by the lake and maybe sit and drink some tea or something? It'd be better than just sitting down at the computer like I always did, and the fresh air would do me some good. I said ok, although admittedly I wasn't as enthusiastic about the idea as she was. Then again, she wasn't the one who made three trips to the car to carry up all the groceries we'd bought.

Anyway, after our walk, she wanted to sit in the little park right near our house, instead of going upstairs right away. And this time I was a little more enthusiastic, because it felt good to sit in the sunlight, something we couldn't do on our balcony. After a couple of minutes sitting there with my arm around her shoulders, my wife nudged me and told me to look. When I opened my eyes, she said that's who she was talking about, the girl leaving our building just now. Even from where we were sitting, I could see she was young and pretty, with a nice body. But, I really hadn't seen her before, and I told my wife that. But yes, I thought she was good looking, if that's what she wanted to know. And to rub in what she'd said the other night, I said that no, I wouldn't have been afraid to say that if I'd seen her before.

I thought that was the end of the subject, but it was far from it. Later that night, we were cuddled up on the couch watching a movie, when out of the blue my wife said she'd bet I wanted to fuck her. First I said what, then I asked who was she talking about. She said our upstairs neighbor, the girl I saw today, she'd bet that I wanted to fuck her. I told her that she'd lose that bet, because I didn't want to fuck that girl. And she asked me who I was trying to fool, because I wasn't fooling her. The girl had a pretty face, bigger tits and a smaller ass than she did, so of course I wanted to fuck her. Why couldn't I just be a man and admit it? And my answer was that I didn't get interested in a girl that easily. I'd only seen her from a distance, and while she looked good from far away, she might look ugly up close. Maybe she had terrible skin, or used way too much makeup which she knew was a turn off for me. And as for her body, maybe it didn't look as good up close. The girl might even have smaller tits than she did, but used a heavy padded bra to make them look bigger.

Then I asked her why she was trying to start a fight by accusing me of wanting this girl. Until today I hadn't even known the girl existed, let alone seen her. Yet she was already jealous and thinking that I wanted to cheat on her with this girl. Her answer was that she wasn't trying to start a fight. She just wanted me to be honest with her and admit that I'd like to fuck her. And I said I was being honest with her, because it took more than just a long distance look at a girl to get me interested in her. There was only one girl I was interested in fucking right now, if she wanted to know the truth. When she asked who that was, I asked her who did she think it was, before I kissed her. Then I took her by the hand and led her to the bedroom, where I showed her who that was.

The subject popped up again the next night, except this time it was while we were making love. She told me it was obvious that thinking about fucking that girl was making me horny. Why else would I make love to her twice in a row, when it was normally only every two or three days. Her saying this made me stop fucking her so I could look in her eyes for a minute. Then I said I didn't know why she kept saying that, but I wasn't thinking about that girl. This wasn't the first time we'd made love twice in a row, and it wouldn't be the last. And I didn't need to be thinking about anyone else to want to fuck her. She was more than beautiful and sexy enough to get my dick hard all by herself. But, if saying that I was thinking about that girl would make her hot, then I'd say it. She didn't reply to that, but I'd swear there was something extra in her kissing and the way she was fucking back up at me. Whether it was from saying she was all I needed, or from thinking about that girl herself, I don't know.

But, after we'd finished fucking, and she was laying on my chest, she brought the subject up again. Did I expect her to believe that I hadn't thought about fucking that girl, not even once? I sighed at the question, because this subject was starting to get old. I told her that if she wanted the whole truth, I'd give it to her, but only if she promised to listen to me. In the 10 years that we'd been together, I'd thought about fucking a lot of other women. And, as she well knew, I wasn't afraid to share my fantasies with her while we were making love. How many times had I talked about wanting to watch her fuck some other guy? And how many times had we talked about having a threesome with some other girl while we were in the middle of fucking? So why would I be afraid of telling her if I really had thought about fucking this girl?

Her answer was that the guys and girls I'd talked about were always strangers. Sometimes people we'd seen yes, but not people we knew or people who lived in our building. I told her that wasn't true, and she knew it wasn't. How many times had I teased her about fucking some of the guys she worked with? And what about the time I told her I wouldn't kick her friend Ayse out of bed? She said that me talking about her fucking someone else was one thing, but me talking about me fucking someone was a different story. The thing with Ayse proved her point, because she hadn't talked to me for three days after that, had she? And, her and Ayse weren't friends anymore, were they, after Ayse had told her that she wouldn't mind fucking me either. So, she could understand why I didn't admit that I wanted to fuck this girl.

I sighed again, and told her she was starting to sound ridiculous, repeating the same thing over and over again. It took more than a single look at a girl to make me think about fucking her. Even with Ayse, it had taken months of seeing her at least once a week, before I had any such thoughts about her. Yeah, I'd thought about fucking her for some time before I'd admitted it that night. She wanted honesty, she was going to get honesty. But, I hadn't thought about fucking Ayse the first time I met her, my brain didn't work that way. Hell, I hadn't even thought about fucking her the first night we met. It wasn't until I got to know her, and was half in love with her, that I started thinking about that. And it had taken longer with Ayse, because I wasn't in love with her.

My wife had an answer for that too. I didn't know the girls in the porn movies we watched together sometimes. Yet, I had no problem thinking about fucking them, did I? I told her she was right about that, but it was a totally different thing. Seeing a girl naked, and watching her have sex naturally made it easier to think about fucking her yourself. And, if I had seen this girl naked, I might be thinking about her. But, I hadn't seen her naked, and I hadn't even seen her in a bikini. I'd only seen her once, from far away, and that wasn't enough to start me fantasizing about her. So, could she please just stop accusing me of something I wasn't doing? And again, I thought the subject was closed, but boy did I have a lot to learn about my wife.

I didn't hear anything about the girl all week long, and I was beginning to think she'd finally dropped it. Yes, I'd been thinking about the girl, but not as fantasy material the way my wife thought. I'd been trying to figure out why my wife had this hang up about her. I mean, if I had flirted with her, or even talked to her, I might understand why my wife would ask those questions. But I'd never seen her before, until my wife pointed her out to me, so why the interest in what I thought about her? And why keep asking if I was fantasizing about her, as if I'd done something to make her jealous. But, the fact that she hadn't asked me any of those questions all week, gave me hope that my wife was over whatever it was. That is until Friday rolled around.

Friday, right before I got off work, my wife called to ask me to pick up a few things on the way home. I got a little curious at the list, because one of the things on it was a couple of bottles of wine. Being more or less beer drinkers, we never bought wine unless we were having guests, so of course I asked her about it. She said yes, we were having a dinner guest, so I should buy the things and get home as soon as I could. That way I'd have time to shower and get dressed before our guest arrived. But, when I asked who the guest was, my wife said it was a surprise, and I'd just have to wait until they arrived. And not only did she refuse to tell me who our dinner guest was, she made me go all out on getting dressed, because she wanted me to look my best. What she picked out for me, while technically casual, was dress to impress casual. You know, the kind of thing you'd wear to a casual party at the company presidents house. This was obviously someone my wife thought was important.

I was surprised enough, when the doorbell rang and I saw who our dinner guest was. But I was even more surprised when the first words out of our upstairs neighbors mouth were to thank my wife for inviting her. And, before you even ask, yes, she looked a lot better up close than she had from far away. And while my wife and I were dressed for success, this girl was dressed to kill, literally. I mean, just those braless tits of hers would have given many a man a heart attack. And the view from the back as my wife led her into the dining room, damn near gave me a stroke. Of course, my wife made life difficult for me, by seating her directly across from me. True, it didn't really matter where she sat, she still would have drawn my attention. But by being across from me, I couldn't look away from her without being rude.

One good thing came out of the dinner, and that's that I finally had a name I could use instead of just saying her all the time. Although Melek, which means Angel in Turkish, could almost have been a description instead of a name. I did my best to keep my eyes on her face when I looked at her, but her deep décolletage and protruding nipples made that difficult. Not that looking into her eyes was much easier, since they were the kind that just drew you into them. And that sultry smile of hers just turned a man's insides into jelly. In other words, it wasn't just her body that screamed sex, her face screamed it just as loud, if not louder. And she had a voice that whispered it too, which was probably worse than the parts that were screaming.

If I make it seem like I spent the whole night drooling over her, that wasn't the case. My wife is also a beautiful woman, and having lived with her for the last 10 years gave me the strength to maintain my composure. But she did have an effect on me, similar to the effect my wife had on me when we first met. And my wife's hand constantly rubbing my leg under the table wasn't helping either. I had been honest with my wife when I said I didn't have fantasies about her when we first met. But that was only because I'd thought she was too beautiful to have such dirty thoughts about. How I'd ended up with someone so far out of my league, I still don't know. Melek was even more out of reach than my wife had been, for a variety of reasons, the difference in our ages being the least of them. And acknowledging that fact was part of what helped me keep my cool all night. So, instead of things being awkward, we had a pleasant evening that I think we all enjoyed somewhat.

When the night was over and Melek went home, my wife was in an amorous mood, so we headed straight to the bedroom. But, I had an idea of what was coming, and my cock wasn't in her pussy for more than two minutes when she started. She asked me if I was finally ready to admit that I wanted to fuck Melek. And she didn't want to hear me say I had to see her naked first, since her dress hadn't hidden anything. I told her she was fucking crazy for inviting Melek to the house just to prove her point. But to answer her question, of course I'd like to fuck her, any man would. So now what, was she going to stop talking to me for three days like she did for saying I'd like to fuck Ayse? And was she going to accuse me of planning to cheat on her like she did then? She just laughed and said that had been 8 years ago and she wasn't as insecure as she was then. Besides, she knew her husband would never cheat on her because he didn't have the guts.

That almost sounded like a challenge, and I told her she might be surprised by how much guts I had. She kissed me and fucked back up at me for a few minutes, to tell me she wanted me to keep moving while we talked. Then she said she knew that I'd gotten plenty of offers over the years, but I'd never taken a single one. And she also knew that I hadn't turned all of them down just for lack of interest. So, that meant that I didn't have the guts to cheat on her, even when I'd wanted to. This time I was the one who did the kissing, then I told her she was wrong about one thing. Guts had nothing to do with why I hadn't cheated on her, it was all about love. If I had cheated, she would have found out sooner or later, and no single night of pleasure was worth the pain I'd be causing her. That ended the conversation for the night, but it still didn't end the subject, because she brought it up again the next time we were in bed.

That was one of the upsides to this little game my wife was playing, we were having more sex than usual. She'd initially accused me of wanting it more often because I was fantasizing about Melek. But, it was actually her who was doing most of the seduction, by being more romantic which naturally led to sex. And in this case, she hadn't even waited for the next night before making her wishes known. It was a typical lazy Saturday at home, which was usually filled with me on my computer and her reading. But today she was bored with reading, and wanted something to ease her boredom. And that something turned out to be going back to bed in the middle of the afternoon, for some light exercise. It wasn't all that unusual, because we did have daytime sex every once in a while. But she also did something she normally only did on special occasions, or when she wanted to reward me for being especially nice to her. That was to start out by sucking my cock until I was hard as a rock, then getting on top to slowly fuck me to orgasm.

I don't count the questions my wife asked me before as dirty talk, since they were asked in a way that expected serious responses. I was always the one who did the true dirty talking, the kind made to get a person horny. But this time, what came out of my wife's mouth was nothing but that, and it took me by surprise. The first thing she asked was if I had been thinking about Melek when she was sucking my cock. Was I imagining that it was her mouth that was sliding up and down my dick? She'd bet that Melek loved sucking cock, and that Melek didn't stop like she did. No, she was sure Melek would keep sucking until I came in her mouth, then swallow every drop. Would I like to do that, would I like to fill Melek's mouth full with my sperm? We were both breathing hard already, but my wife seemed to be just getting started.

She went on to say that she knew I wanted to fuck her, but I hadn't told her how I wanted to fuck her. Did I want my cock in her pussy, or would I rather stick it into that beautiful ass of hers. And she'd bet that not only would Melek let me do it, she'd probably beg me to shove my dick up her asshole and fuck her like that until we both came. By this time, my wife was going crazy, bouncing hard on my cock, and it was obvious she was getting ready to cum herself. Still she went on with her dirty talk, although it got less coherent the closer she came to her orgasm. It was the oh yeah, you'd love to fuck her hot tight ass wouldn't you, type of talk, and quickly became just fuck it fuck it, before she took us both over the edge.

Afterwards, laying in my arms, she asked why I hadn't said anything. I told her it was because she was doing such a good job without my help. I was just enjoying watching her and listening to her. Besides, it was her fantasy not mine, and I didn't want to interfere with it. She raised up to look at my face, and asked me what I meant by that. Did I expect her to believe that I hadn't thought about fucking Melek? I said yes, I expected her to believe that. There was a big difference between me saying that I wouldn't mind fucking her, and me having fantasies about doing it. I mean, just because there were some movie stars that I wouldn't kick out of bed, that didn't mean I had fantasies about fucking them. I didn't have fantasies about things I knew were impossible. I had to believe there was a chance, even if it was only a small chance, before I started having fantasies of doing it. That's why I didn't start having fantasies about her until the night she kissed me at the company Christmas party. Up until that point, I thought I'd never have a chance with someone like her. So why torture myself thinking about what I thought would never happen?

She told me I was sweet, but I was also an idiot when it came to women. What made me so sure that I wouldn't stand a chance with a girl like Melek? I was handsome, I was charming, and I knew how to make a girl laugh and have a good time. That's how I'd gotten her, so what made Melek any different? When I mentioned the fact that she was only half my age, my wife laughed. She was 15 years younger than me herself, wasn't she, and that hadn't stopped us from getting together had it? Melek was the same age now that she'd been when she fell in love with me. I told her that might be true, but I was 10 years older than I was back then. And her reply was that some men got more handsome as they got older, and I was one of them. And, there were plenty of girls who liked older men and Melek might be one of them.