The Magic Pill

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I was shocked: completely gobsmacked, but I guess I asked for it.

We were sitting in a little local restaurant and I was teasing Alana, my wife of 20 years, about what I had planned for our upcoming wedding anniversary.

I never could remember what gift was supposed to accompany each anniversary (you know; china, silver, golden etc.) so I had long ago given up, and instead I made sure that our anniversaries celebrated our love for each other.

Over the years, this had usually meant a nice piece of jewellery and a weekend somewhere, away from the kids and our daily lives.

This was what tonight was about. We'd have a nice dinner, and with a flourish I would produce the tickets to somewhere romantic. Next morning we'd be off.

I was feeling pretty pleased with my choice of gift: a jade pendant which matched her eyes; and airline tickets that would take us to a little known, but exclusive, Norwegian ski resort.

So I felt pretty smug when I asked her what she really wanted for her anniversary, but what she answered was: "Two of you."

I didn't get it, and told her so.

"You know, two: of you, ahem, at the same time. Don't make me spell it out."

She was grinning, happy to be turning the tables on my teasing.

"You mean...."

"Oh for god's sake Paul. I was kidding. You don't have a clone in that pocket, do you.?"

"Well, no..."

Somewhat sheepishly, I took out the tickets and presented the pendant. Alana was gushing in her praise of my choices, but I couldn't help being a bit miffed at her earlier comment.

I decided not to push it: no point in spoiling the atmosphere.

Later that night, though; languishing in bed after some energetic lovemaking; I brought it up again.

"What you said earlier, in the restaurant; what did you mean?"

She smiled: "Oh, nothing. It was just a book I was reading. The heroine was a bit wild and ended bedding two guys, you know, together."

I was shocked all over again. I mean, Alana is 45 years old and, in the twenty years we've been married, hasn't strayed as much as an inch over the line of propriety (as far as I know). We were dating pretty much exclusively for five years before that, and she was a virgin when we met.

"You mean, you'd like to try...swinging?" The word seemed wholly inappropriate: so 'seventies' and definitely un-Alana.

"God no. I couldn't. It was just that the sex scenes in the book were pretty wild and I'd been reading it before we went out. For goodness sake Paul, your face is a picture. I was just teasing you. You're always so bloody good at buying gifts, I just thought I'd take the wind out of your sails a bit. I shouldn't have. It was very ungrateful of me. Most of my girlfriends would kill for a husband as thoughtful as you. So would I, for that matter."

I was mollified, somewhat, but I still had to ask once more.

"So would you, then?"

"Look, I told you: no. It's very sexy in a book, as a fantasy, but the thought of doing something like that in reality is yucky. No way.

"So you fantasise......"

"GO TO SLEEP!"

Point taken.

We arrived in Norway at lunchtime the next day, and immediately went on piste. The afternoon's skiing was great: uncrowded and challenging runs, and winter sunshine on a beautifully rugged, snow-covered wilderness.

The luxury of the 'lodge' contrasted the wild landscape completely. We had every mod con in our spacious suite, the restaurant was first class, and the bar that night was lively and cosmopolitan.

We met people from all across Europe, and as the restaurant tables were german style, large communal wooden affairs, we soon were chatting easily and continued at the bar. The resort seemed to attract the well-heeled, but serious, skier and as a result it didn't suffer from the same snobbery as some of the Alpine resorts. I was delighted with my choice and we vowed to come back often.

The crowd was mostly couples, but there were a few groups of single guys and girls. It seemed to me there were more couples by the end of the night!

There was something really sexy about the place. I think the day's skiing made you feel all energetic and virtuous, and then a combination of great seafood, drinks, and probably the thin air at this altitude did the rest. The lodge also had a dress policy in the evening, which meant everyone had to make an effort to look their best.

Whatever it was, the crowd got pretty raucous.

I happily considered Alana. This is one of the great things about being married: here is this gorgeous woman, dressed to the nines, who is going to be in my bed later tonight.

She was looking great. At 45, she has grown into her beauty: she knows what works for her in clothes, make-up, and hairstyle and she makes the most of herself.

She is about 5 ft 8, a little curvy, but with a butt kept trim by years of skiing, and 34C boobs that still draw furtive glances - even from me!

Her dark hair is cut into a glossy bob and her clothes always hint, just enough, at what's underneath.

Christ, it's time for bed!

Alana always makes a special effort for our weekends away. It's our little private deal. I provide a first class, romantic destination, and Alana provides, well, Alana.

I am sitting on the edge of the bed, sipping a mini bar whisky which I clearly don't need, when she comes out of the bathroom. She stands, facing me, between me and the music station I'm idly watching on the tv.

She starts to undo the buttons on her shirt, slowly, swaying in time to the music. She pops them one by one. Slowly. Unveiling. Her. Deep. Cleavage.

Her shirt comes off and then her skirt slithers to the floor. Underneath, she has on something new from Agent Provocateur. She runs her hands up her thighs, brushing her tight little mound, then upwards over her body until she cups her swollen looking breasts.

This is her party piece. She drops to her knees and, looking me straight in the eye, unzips my chinos. She pulls me out of my zipper and slowly, way too slowly, lowers her mouth onto my aching cock.

About two minutes later, OK maybe 90 seconds, I'm grateful for the noise of the music as I loudly empty into her lovely wet mouth.

Alana shares my whisky while I recover, and then it's payback time. She is on all fours on the bed and I enter her from behind. She prefers this position when she really needs to come. She is clever, and has removed my urgency with her blowjob. She knows I can now fuck her, hard, until she comes: one hand steadying herself on the headboard, one kneading her clit as I pump her from behind.

We are only here for two nights, so we rise early for breakfast and are back on the slopes by nine, making the most of our day.

The resort has a cafe-bar on the slopes where we take our lunch, skis stacked up along the log walls. We chat with a few people we met last night, and are back on the slopes for the afternoon.

Alana is a better skier than I am, so she allows herself a few lone runs on the advanced slopes, while I potter about on the intermediate levels. We meet again at 4 pm in the bar and have a final run together before heading back to the hotel.

I try to entice her into some 'afternoon delight' as we change for the evening, but she likes me keen and tells me: 'later'.

She dresses deliberately provocatively in a little black dress, which exposes as much cleavage as she dares, and is slashed to the thigh. She also tells me about the young blonde Norwegian guy who tried to chat her up on the slopes until she took off her gloves and flashed her wedding ring.

This is no accident, of course. It's part of our weekend game. She teases me and dresses more revealingly than she ever would at home, and then she takes me to bed and finally relieves my frustration.

Her teasing is working even better than usual tonight. The communal restaurant tables make for lots of banter and flirting and we are all soon very merry.

As it's Saturday, there is to be some dancing and the waiters rearrange the table to make a space. The music starts and soon we are all happily, if not always skillfuly, gyrating.

Inevitably, as the night wears on we (slightly) older couples retire to the sidelines and let the younger crowd enjoy themselves. The DJ is good and, sensing the change, the music gets louder and faster.

Soon though, a young blonde guy comes over and asks Alana to dance. She raises her eyebrows at me and I shrug: sure, no problem.

After a few minutes I finish my drink and take the opportunity to go to the loo.

On the way, I make sure I skirt the dance floor (Jealous, me?) to check on Alana. God, she dances well. From this distance she looks 25 years old, and can easily hold her own with the younger crowd. She is dancing much faster and more intently than she would with me. I guess she makes allowances for my two left feet. I see the blonde guy has his hands on her hips as they dance and I continue to the loo before I really do get jealous.

I have to wait awhile to piss because I have become quite hard. On the way back I buy some headache tablets from the little kiosk at reception (I can't read the labels, but the girl on duty speaks perfect English and points out a brand. She gives me a little bottle of water and I take a tablet right away.

Christ, imagine getting a headache at a disco! I feel bloody old and slip the packet in my jacket pocket: no way is the gyrating Alana going to find out her old husband can't take the pace!

Back at our table, I chat to some Italians and I start to feel better almost immediately. Another track starts and Alana remains on the dance floor with her young partner.

She is buzzing when she returns and slips in beside me. She is keeping up her tease, whispering sexy little nothings in my ear and leaving her hand on my thigh. I ask her who the young blonde guy was and it turns out it was the bloke who was chatting her up on the piste this afternoon.

"Christ, I thought you'd flashed your wedding ring to scare him off."

"He's Swedish. I don't think they care about things like that."

"And you do?"

"Of course darling, it's just a little bit of fun. You know there is no way.."

I was starting to feel my hard-on growing again.

"Not even tempted then?"

She put on her most prim and proper voice, lampooning herself. "Tempted is one thing. Doing is quite another." She grinned: "I do like the dancing though. Here comes Svennis again. You don't mind do you?"

"Course not. Go ahead you sexy bitch." I pinched her bum as she rose to join Svennis on the dance floor.

I started chatting again to my Italian friends (two couples) and to be honest there was a lot of flirting going on. I was not entirely innocent either.

I was obviously a bit drunk, on the whisky or the thin air or whatever, but it seemed to me that everyone was at it. There was lots of hand holding and kissing and hugging, and too-close dancing. I was really getting into this.

It was then that I had an idea. An admittedly outrageous idea, but I can blame the altitude for that.

I was thinking about what Alana had said, when was it? Thursday. In the restaurant. And I was watching her remove Svennis' hands from her arse as they danced, and I was thinking, nope, she would never do it. Then I thought about the little packet of pills in my pocket.

What the hell, it probably wouldn't work, but it would certainly turn the tables on my teasing wife.

When she returned, a few songs later, I said: "Are you feeling a bit light-headed?"

"You could say that."

I took out my packet of pills: "Here, take on of these. The girl at reception gave me them. They're for the altitude."

"Oh, thanks."

I let her swallow then grinned widely at her.

"What? What did you just give me?"

"Don't you trust me?"

"No!" She was laughing though. She knew I would never do anything to harm her.

I then smiled and leaned to whisper in her ear.

"Just something for later. Bill gave me them. Apparently they are the best female aphrodisiac he's ever come across. I thought you might enjoy."

Alana knew my friend Bill was the biggest womaniser in town.

Now, if she had been upset in any way, I'd decided I would tell her right then. No point in spoiling a great weekend - it was just a joke. Instead, she smiled and sipped her drink.

"So when do the effects kick in?"

I just said the first thing that came into my head: "About an hour."

For the next hour I flirted with my wife, I even joined her and Svennis on the dance floor. All the time I was whispering in her ear about how all her inhibitions would soon be melting away and how she would be mine to do with as I wished.

"Mmmmm." Was all she replied.

I decided now was the time.

"Or anybody's for that matter."

She paused just for a second and then: "Mmmmm."

I looked across at Svennis. He was a handsome boy, well toned and not quite as tall as me. He looked attractive in a non-threatening kind of way.

Everyone on the floor was kind of dancing with everyone else. Alana was so into the music she was gyrating with her eyes closed. Her dress was beginning to stick to her lithe body. The sight of her made my mind up. I danced closer to Svennis.

"Svennis?"

"Please, call me Sven"

"You speak English?

"A little."

Just my luck. The only Swede who doesn't speak English better than the natives.

This was going to make it harder. Or easier. There was no room for subtlety. I took a deep breath.

"You like Alana?"

"Sure." The young man shrugged. Another deep breath.

"You want to come back to our room?"

He grinned: "Sure."

I moved over to Alana: "Sven would like to join us for a night-cap. I thought you might enjoy it."

The dance floor was crowded with people coming and going and I put my hand around her waist and guided her off toward the lobby. A crowd of people waited on the lift and we joined them. So did Sven.

Alana was silent. I whispered into her ear: "I take it the pill is working?"

She glanced across at Sven: "I guess it must be."

Our room was just a short walk from the lift. Sven was full of confidence now and we each had an arm around my wife. Alana didn't complain.

We entered our suite.

Inside the TV was still on from earlier, tuned to MTV. Its flicker was the only light in the room.

I pulled Alana to me and kissed her passionately. As I did so, I was aware of Sven pressing into her from behind, his hands were on her ass and this time she wasn't shifting them. He was rucking her dress up towards her waist. I had my hands on her tits.

Fuck. This was really going to happen.

Her dress was above her waist now and for the first time someone other than me was enjoying her Agent Provocateur lingerie. Glancing down, I could see Sven had worked his hand around her waist and it was now slowly descending, beneath her silk panties, onto her mound. Alana kept her eyes shut, but groaned and bit my lips. Sven was fingering her.

One of the things I had been thinking about coming up in the lift was: her pussy or her mouth? Where does she want her first extramarital cock? Where do I want to be?

It seemed though, that the decision was being made for us. Sven was pulling her hips back toward him. I responded by leaning back onto the dresser which was behind me. Alana bent forward as I did so, opening her eyes, and for a brief moment gazed longingly into mine before her glossy head dropped and the sound of my zipper was heard above the music.

Alana was kissing my cock head as I looked over her at Sven. He was urging her legs apart and she was complying; inching them wider until he was happy. He held up a condom packet and I nodded: at least someone had thought ahead. He quickly ripped the packet and slipped the rubber on.

I couldn't see his cock, but I knew when he started rubbing it up and down Alana's slit from the little moans that escaped her mouth.

My darling little wife off twenty years was stood, bent over in her highest spike heels; legs parted and dress around her waist as Sven's cock found her opening and he pushed into her, in turn forcing my cock deep into her willing mouth.

Sven gripped her hips and started fucking Alana. With every stroke her mouth was pushed up and down my shaft. I pulled her tits out of her bra and squeezed them together. It was her turn to last 90 seconds. Her groans got louder around my shaft and Sven increased his pace. Then her nails were digging into my arse and she was coming. I could sense the young Swede tensing up and I let myself go. I guess we both spurted into her at the same time.

I pulled Alana up as Sven withdrew from her, and I kissed her deeply. She tasted slightly of my swallowed come.

I led her to the big double bed and she just meekly followed. Sven followed also.

We sat on the edge of the bed; Alana between us men. I guess she was getting embarrassed by the situation and she was kind of resting her head on my shoulder and avoiding eye contact. I glanced across at Sven and realised he still had his cock out. I was pleased to see he was a little smaller than me, but more importantly he was still semi hard. So was I. We were going to give Alana another round.

I started to kiss her and moved her right hand onto my cock. Sven moved her left onto his hardening member. She slowly started to pump both our cocks. I stopped kissing her and Sven started playing with her hair. She turned and kissed him deeply. Bizarrely, I found this to be possibly the most intimate act that weekend. We were playing with a tit each and taking turns to kiss her. Alana was beginning to groan again and I traced a hand down into her panties where I found an extremely wet, extremely open pussy pushing forward to meet my probing fingers. I was going to fuck her now.

I pushed her back onto the bed and took up position between her legs. Sven moved quickly onto the bed and lay beside her. I pushed immediately into her gaping slit and enjoyed for the first time the feel of a just-fucked pussy. Alana looked down at me and then turned her head to find Sven's now hardened cock inches from her mouth. She didn't hesitate and slipped her lips around his helmet as she slowly pumped his shaft with her hand. I noticed her carefully applied nail polish and glinting wedding ring and I felt my sap rise. Sven pulled the halter top of her dress open and was roughly massaging her tits as she blew him.

I was about to blow too, but I had one last wicked thought. I pulled out of Alana and turned her over, which she managed to do without taking her hungry mouth from Sven's cock. Her ass was now pointing into the air.

I stood behind her and began teasing her pussy with my cock, moving it in and out of her hole and up and down her slit. She was absolutely soaking, and desperately reaching behind her to pull me inside her. Using my thumb, I started smearing her juices over her asshole while still teasing her pussy with my cock. I could feel her tense a little, but she didn't pull away. I kept working the juice around her ass until, daringly, I started to rub my thumb harder against her asshole. She groaned more loudly as my thumb pushed ever so slightly into her opening. I made sure my cock was teasing at her pussy all the time, keeping her on the edge and desperate for penetration. When I felt her excitement rising I replaced my cock at her pussy with my other hand, and started fingering her deeply. At the same time, I moved my cock up her slit to her asshole. She was realising what I was up to now, and she took her mouth off Sven's cock just enough for me to hear her mumbled protests.

"No Paul, oh God, please, no, don't, not there..."

But I had timed it right, and she was beginning to move into the early stage of orgasm.