What She Deserves

"Hi, I'm Paul."

Fiona didn't hide her skepticism as the man in the bar stool next to her introduced himself. She looked him over quickly. Handsome guy, nice suit, probably there for some conference just like herself. In a different life maybe...

"And you are?" he continued, giving her a friendly smile.

"I'm married," she said shortly, wiggling her ring finger.

Paul laughed. "I see."

On one level she felt that she should be flattered that men constantly approached her. She was blessed with curves in all the right places, and the perfect flow of her long brown curls seemed to draw attention to her. But the attention was just a bit much sometimes, and far from everybody could take her rejection with grace.

"So, Married, can I buy you a drink?" Paul continued.

She took a deep breath. "Listen Paul, I'm sure you're a nice guy. But in my experience most guys that approach me in a hotel bar fall into one of two categories. When I tell them I'm married, they either immediately lose all interest in talking to me, or they persist, hoping they might get lucky anyway. And when they don't — because they never do — they get mad and start calling me all sorts of things. And since you're still talking to me, I'm guessing that you fall under group number two."

Paul chuckled, but he didn't seem particularly taken aback by her refusal. "So, I take it I'm not the first man that approached you in a bar."

"Not even the first one tonight," she said and looked at her watch. "And it's not even eight a clock yet."

"Well, I'll leave you alone then. But if you rather share a drink with a stranger than drink alone, I'm right here."

With that he leaned away from her and tried to get the bartender's attention.

Fiona glanced him over again. Yeah, he would have been her type back in the days. He had a nice smile under that neatly trimmed beard, and the suit couldn't hide that he was in good shape, with broad shoulders and strong arms. And perhaps most importantly, he could take a rejection without turning into a monster.

She downed the rest of her drink and waved to the barman.

"I'll have another martini please," she said, and lightly grabbing Paul's arm to get his attention she continued. "And whatever my friend here wants."

Paul looked confused at first, and then broke out in a wide grin. "I'll have whatever she's having." He turned to Fiona as the bartender prepared their drinks. "Thanks — seems like you had better luck getting his attention."

She smirked, knowing full well that her cleavage had done the trick when she leaned forward over the bar when she called for the bartender. Was that what Paul was hinting at?

"And don't think you'll get lucky just because you bought me a drink," he continued and winked at her.

OK, he was definitely flirting. But maybe she could live with that. Her husband had told her many times that he didn't mind when men came on to her. This guy at least seemed like he would accept her no when she'd that it was enough.

"I'll try not to get my hopes up," she said with a crooked smile.

"So, what brings you here, married?"

She didn't catch his drift at first.

"Ah," she said and held out her hand. "I am indeed married, but I'm also Fiona."

"Nice to meet you married Fiona. What brings you here? Conference?"

"Yup. You too?"

"Yeah. There's a lot of that lately."

She nodded. "Tell me about it."

Two drinks later, Fiona was glad that she had taken this stranger up on his offer. These work trips tended to get tedious, and she hated being away from her husband so much. Talking with Paul took her mind off it for a while.

"Well, I got to say, your husband is a lucky man," Paul said as he finished his drink. "You should tell him I said so."

Fiona frowned. It had happened before that a guy who approached her in a bar eventually tried to persuade her that she had married some sort of a loser who didn't deserve her. It would be a sad ending to an otherwise pleasant evening.

"Speaking of my husband, I should call him before it gets too late."

She brought up her phone and called her husband David.

He sounded happy to hear her voice. "Hi honey, how are you?"

"I'm fine. I'm in the hotel bar, having a few drinks."

"That sounds good. Did your colleagues join too?"

"No, I..."

What should she say? That she was alone? She had no reason to hide anything. But on the other hand, she didn't want her husband to get suspicious about some stranger talking to her in the bar. She shook her head at herself. Why was she suddenly worried about that? Her husband was far from the jealous type.

"Did some guy start hitting on you?" her husband teased.

She realized it wasn't uncommon for her to call her husband to show persistent suitors that she wasn't interested.

"I... I don't know about that," she said.

Her husband chuckled. "But?"

"No but," she said, suddenly feeling defensive.

"Is he better looking than me?" he continued to tease.

"Of course not," she said sarcastically, at the same time looking Paul over. No, not really better, but certainly attractive.

"Is he still there?"

"Yeah, he is actually. Why?"

"Give him the phone," David said.

"What?"

David chuckled again. "Can't I even talk to the guy hitting on my wife?"

"He's not hitting on me," she said, not entirely sure if it was true. Paul looked at her with an amused expression.

"I'm sure he's not," David continued. "So let me speak to him."

Fiona paused for a moment, but eventually just shrugged her shoulders. At least it might diminish any potential doubts Paul had about her being a faithful wife.

"He wants to talk to you," she said, handing the phone to Paul.

He laughed. "To me?"

At least he seemed to have the same type of humor as her husband.

"Hello?" Paul said as he held the phone to his ear. "Yes, she's very well behaved... Martinis, mostly... Yeah, they're alright."

Paul continued to chat to Fiona's husband. Eventually she got impatient and held out her hand to ask for her phone back. But Paul raised a finger, grinning as he swapped the phone to his other hand and leaned away from her.

"No, there's no band playing here. But next door I think... OK, sure. That would be my pleasure... Will do. Nice talking to you. Bye."

With that he handed the phone back to Fiona. Stunned she found that David had already hung up.

"Nice guy," Paul said with a crooked smile.

"Well, I'm glad you hit it off," she said sarcastically. But she was pleased. At least Paul wasn't trying to turn her against her husband. "What did he say?"

"Well, actually he said I should take you dancing."

Fiona looked at him with raised eyebrows. "Did he now?"

She felt annoyed. What was David doing, pimping her out like this? It wasn't like him to push her into doing anything she didn't want to do. Not that she would mind going dancing, but why would her husband set her up like this? Her phone buzzed as a text message arrived.

"Go enjoy yourself, babe. You deserve it. Love you."

She paused for a moment, looking at his text in silence before replying

"You're an asshole. Love you too."

"Sure. Let's go then," she said, a determined expression on her face as she held out her hand for Paul. If her husband wanted her to enjoy herself in the company of another man, why shouldn't she?

On the other side of the continent David put down his phone with a pleased grin on his face. He knew his wife would be bothered by him setting her up like that, even though she would ultimately enjoy herself. She suggested they'd go dancing far more often than he said yes to.

He took a sip from his whiskey glass and sank back in his chair, content that his wife was having a good time. Some people might be jealous if their spouse was out dancing with someone else, but he couldn't even relate to that. Dancing was just dancing. And so what if she enjoyed a bit of attention? If it made her feel good, he was all happy for her. An odd sensation of excitement came over him.

He realized this wasn't the first time he had nudged her into dancing with others. There had been a band at his latest company party, and not in the mood himself, he urged her to dance with his colleagues instead. There had been many takers. Most of his colleagues took the opportunity to get up close with his hot wife.

As he recalled, her red dress had hugged her body that evening, and was short enough to show off her slender legs. The first songs were up-beat, and each of her partners swung her around the floor, looking like they were trying to outdo each other in terms of energy on the dance floor. She was having a blast, but seemed appeased when the band switched to slow songs.

And perhaps it wasn't just because it gave her a break from the intense dancing. It seemed her cheeks turned even rosier now that she was leaning her head against his colleague's shoulder than they had been during her intense dance moves. Each of her dance partners were respectable enough to stay away from obvious no-go zones, but their hands roamed over her back, feeling the curves of her slender waist. After a few slow dances, each with a different partner, she had an outright sensuous expression on her face. He had a fair idea what emotions was hiding behind it. Her eyes had a taunting shimmer as they kept searching for his. He felt hypnotized by her display, pressed herself against one suitor after the other.

His fascination hadn't gone unnoticed, and she called him on it in the cab back home.

"So you didn't mind that I was dancing with your colleagues all night then?" she asked with a knowing grin.

"Nah, I'm just glad you got to enjoy yourself."

She leaned in close and whispered in his ear. "You seemed to enjoy it too."

He smiled nervously, not sure what to respond.

"Did you like seeing your wife getting all that attention?" she teased. "Did you notice that some of them got a bit handsey?"

"Uhm... I'm sure it was just innocent, right?"

She smirked. "I don't know about that. But you don't mind, do you? Maybe you even wanted them to go further?"

David swallowed, not finding any words.

"If one of them had gone bolder and started groping me, would you have wanted me to stop him?" she continued, her voice oozing with temptation. "Or do you want to watch your wife get fondled? Maybe you even wanted me to ask one of them back with us? Imagine if I had continued to dance with him back at our place — how bold would he have gotten then?"

The images that she painted in David's mind made his mouth dry. Why was she teasing him like this? And why did it turn him on so much?

"What if he started removing my dress — would you want me stop him then? Imagine if I ended up dancing naked with another man! Could you bear watching your wife like that?"

She moved her hand down and squeezed his erection, giggling at this silent, yet clear response.

As they arrived at their house, they ran inside. Kissing passionately, they made their way to the bed. He was inside her before they could get her dress off. Grinding on top of him, she pulled it down and removed her bra to set her breasts free. Within a second, his lips had found her delicious nipples, feasting on their exciting texture. She wasn't done with her teasing scenario.

"Imagine..." she panted, leaning back to show of her bouncing breasts. "Imagine you were watching me ride someone like this!"

They both came a moment later, screaming out in unison as he filled her.

They never really discussed it the next day. She'd had a couple of drinks that had probably helped loosen her tongue, and David thought that she might be embarrassed how explicit she had gotten in the heat of the moment. But while he kept it to himself, he felt proud over their bond. Fantasies like that could only be vented between partners with a complete trust in each other.

Taking another sip from his whiskey, he rationalized that the fact that he had just coerced his wife to go dancing with a stranger was along the same lines — a vent, allowing her to enjoy some harmless attention.

Or would this guy get bold too? And what would she do if he did? He sensed a hint of jealousy, but that was soon washed away by a rush of excitement. How much attention would she allow herself to receive? She was probably right now pressed against this stranger.

He chuckled at himself. He should really shake these thoughts out of his mind or he might start getting weird ideas.

An hour later, he received a text message from Fiona.

"Hi honey. I'm back in my room now. Thanks for letting me have some fun..."

"Great! I take it you enjoyed yourself?" he texted back, growing curious what was hiding behind those three dots. "What did you end up doing?"

"Well, we started by going dancing like you said."

Started? What did that mean? But David didn't want to pressure her, so just waited for her next text.

"At first it was very innocent... But then he got quite frisky."

"Oh yeah?" David replied. He didn't know what else to write, not wanting to come off accusing.

"Yeah, his hands kind of wandered onto my ass after a while... I removed them and wiggled my finger at him. I was giggling though, and I don't think he took me seriously. And I couldn't really blame him after you offered me up like that. So when his hands returned, I just let him continue."

Paul felt a stir inside as he waited for her next text.

"He got quite carried away, groping my ass all over. It felt really good to be honest. So I didn't stop him. You don't mind, do you? You said I should enjoy myself."

What could he possibly reply to that? David thought he should call his wife and talk to her. But with the turmoil he felt inside, he wasn't sure what he would say.

"Sounds like you did," he wrote back, adding a winky smiley. It was a silly thing to do.

"Yeah, I sure did! And Paul did too... As I pressed against him, I felt his... You know!"

"I can't blame him," David replied.

He regretted it as soon as he sent it. What a stupid thing to write! He could blame him, couldn't he? And he could definitely blame Fiona! This was far away from the innocent attention he had pictured her to enjoy. And yet he felt unable to accuse her of anything. His cock pressing against his pants revealed other emotions.

"What did you do?" he added.

"I didn't really do anything. I just looked at him and we kind of laughed about it and continued to dance. It was pretty funny. But then the band stated playing a more up-beat song. I didn't want to move away from him while he was all excited. It would have been embarrassing if everyone else saw."

David shook his head at his wife's words. How considerate of her.

"So I started dancing with my back against him to give him a moment to control his excitement. I guess I should have known better... He didn't seem at all interested in controlling it! He grabbed my hips and pulled me against him. I was a bit shocked first. But it was kind of exciting too, feeling his erection press against my ass right there on the dance floor."

David could hear his own breath getting heavier by the minute. He thought again about calling his wife, but he knew he wouldn't be able to hide how turned on he was getting by what she was telling him. Instead he replied with an ambiguous text message.

"Wow, that's pretty full on."

"I know! And he didn't stop there. When he realized I was happy grinding my ass against him by my own accord, he let go of my hips. And then I felt his hands start roaming, moving up my body. I had a pretty good idea where he was heading... I was going to stop him, but his hands felt really good. And I remembered what you said — that I deserved to enjoy myself — so I just let him carry on."

"So he just grabbed your tits?"

"Well, he was a bit of a tease actually. He sort of roamed around them at first, just brushing against them as he caressed my body. He knew what he was doing though. By the time he eventually slid his hand up and cupped them, I was really aching for his touch. I think I kind of pushed my chest out against his hands. That seemed to encourage him, and he just started groping me without inhibition. Can you believe he could be so bold, openly fondling my tits there on the dance floor?!"

David could believe it. What was harder to grasp was that his wife would allow this stranger to do it. And even harder to understand was the undeniable fact that he was getting turned on by it. He released his cock from his pants, and felt an expectant thrill run through his body as his phone buzzed with another message from his wife.

"It felt so naughty, you know, but really exciting. I just sort of leaned back against him and let him continue. He even flicked his finger over my nipples and caressed them through my blouse and bra. You know how sensitive they get when I'm excited, and it felt really good even though my clothes were in the way. You don't mind, do you, honey?"

Did he mind? What kind of question was that? What she was describing was outrageous. She had been groped by another man in public, encouraging him to feel her tits right there in public. But as he pictured what she must have looked like, pressed against this stranger as he enjoyed her sensuous body, he realized that he couldn't even answer whether or not he did mind. His mind was too cluttered with lust. Rationalizing that he should at least get the full story before passing any judgment on her, he dodged the question.

"Wow. What did you do next?"

"Well, I guess I wasn't the only one who felt that my clothes were in the way. He started unbuttoning my blouse. But I stopped him after just one button. I think he would have stripped me right there had I not intervened! And then I felt his lips on my neck. And you know what that does to me. I think it kind of distracted me, because I suddenly realized that he had moved one hand inside the deep cleavage of my blouse, and was fondling my tits through my bra."

As if in trance, David absentmindedly stroked his cock as he watched the symbol that indicated that Fiona was writing another long message. There was more to this story.

"I think I kind of leaned my head back against his shoulder, and my mouth probably fell open as I enjoyed it. He must have taken it as an invite, and suddenly I felt his lips on mine. But only for a second before I stopped him. I realized things were getting out of hand. I had his cock pressing against my ass, his hands inside my blouse, and now his tongue in my mouth. We couldn't continue like that. You know, with all the people watching."

Was that her main concern — that people could see them? She was writing more, and he just asked a brief question, mainly to let her know that he was still eagerly reading her messages. "So you left?"

"I helped him remove his jacket so he could use it to cover himself as we walked back to the hotel. We were giggling and laughing as we walked through the lobby to the elevator. And when I saw myself in the elevator mirror, my blouse was open all the way down to my bra, my hair was a mess, and my lipstick was smeared around my mouth. I looked like I had already been fucked!"

Already? David shivered at the insinuation.

"Paul had a coy grin as he stood beside me, and was still covering his crotch. I felt a bit cheeky, and just to see if he was still excited, I wedged my hand in under his folded up jacket. He was excited alright!"

She added a winky smiley to her message. David shook his head. Was this really appropriate when telling her husband that she had grabbed another man's cock?