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Shared, Part 1

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A wife sharing story in two parts. This is part 1
Long before I married my second and hopefully last husband I wanted him to know all about me, the bad as well as the good. As part of that I told him a story about my first marriage. I didn't intend for it to be the basis of years of pillow talk, but it was.

Here's the story. My husband actually wrote an erotic story loosely based on it and posted it a long time ago, but not here. We wonder if any readers with a good memory will be able to tie the two stories together.

I married Tom in my senior year of college when he was just starting at Harvard Law. Our plan was that I would I postpone graduate school to work so he and I could have a decent standard of living until he graduated and passed the Bar Exam.

Those early days were tough but I thought we had a pretty good life. 'Happily ever after' looked like a real possibility. When he graduated and was admitted to the bar he started a career with a great salary. Life was only going to get better. I reapplied for my fellowship but even without that his income would easily pay for my PhD.

Somehow the ardor and intensity of our marriage began fading and that scared me. "Happily ever after" was at risk and I was determined to relight the fire.

But how?

Maybe date nights would help. We arranged to meet for dinner, starting our night out with a drink at the Four Seasons. I got there 15 minutes early and the stress of the day convinced me to have a glass of wine while waiting. I got involved in a conversation with a guy sitting nearby.

A half hour later I noticed my husband standing in the doorway. I waved him over, introduced the guy, and in a couple of minutes the two of us went to dinner.

"Why were you standing at the door," I asked. "Didn't you see me?"

"I did see you, you looked like you were enjoying talking to that guy."

“How long were you waiting there by the door?"

"About 20 minutes."

"Well, why didn't you come over, for heaven's sake?"

"I liked watching."

"Oh."

We dropped the subject and had a nice evening. On the drive home Tom asked "Did that guy - was his name Bill? - try to date you?"

"No, we were just talking."

We talked about other things for the rest of the drive but I began worrying that Tom thought I might be appearing too available to strangers. That was just not the fact. I was not going to do anything to mess up this marriage.

A couple of weeks later we made another date for a Friday night dinner in town, with the meeting place set for the Sheraton hotel. Tom was late.

"Tom, I was waiting for 15 minutes."

"I know. I was here but I liked just looking at you sitting alone."

That sounded familiar. "Were you waiting to see if anyone tried to talk to me?"

"Yes."

"Don't you trust me?"

"Of course I do. But it's kind of a turn on watching you talk to guys in places like this; I guess maybe I'm a bit of a voyeur."

"Well, that's different." I was happy that it wasn't a trust thing after all.

Late at night the next week when we were in bed I brought up his behavior. "Tom, how come you try to watch strangers talking to me?"

"I guess it's because I like the idea of other guys hitting on you and I wanted to see if that was going to happen."

I thought about that for a bit and said “Talking doesn't mean hitting on me; they may be just trying to make conversation. Do you really think someone would try to pick me up? I don't think I give the impression I am available or anything."

"It would be hot if someone tried to pick you up," he said. "That would be OK."

"Let me be sure I understand. You get turned on when you think about guys trying to pick me up."

"Yeah." He took my hand and put it on his belly, pushed it down until I was feeling him, very erect. "See?"

"You said it before, and now I believe you. You're some kind of voyeur!"

"Yeah, maybe."

"Tom, I’m married to you. I'm not interested in other guys, but maybe it would nice having someone pay attention to me. You don't seem that interested anymore. I wish you were."

"That idea makes me interested, you know I'm hard right now," he said.

"Uh, that idea gave you an erection?"

"Yeah, I like thinking they wanted to date you."

He started pulling at my pajamas, and I bridged so he could yank the bottoms off. It had been so long since he did anything like that, and he was so turned on. . .

I decided if that kind of talk was what it took to keep in interested in me I wasn't going to waste the opportunity.

He was on me, in me, and I said "It would be kind of nice if a guy tried to date me, or even try to pick me when we're out like that. I guess you'd like that."

His movements became more urgent.

"I'd like you to go out with that in mind," he said, "and see if something like that would happen on purpose, instead of accidentally."

His actions and intensity were telling me it's something he wanted, that's for sure. He was doing more than offering me a license to flirt, he was encouraging me to. It would be different for me, a change from my real life image, and my reward was going to be a turned on husband.

Why not?

I replied "We could do that so long as we wind up here."

I was having sex with a very turned on husband. It was wonderful.

The next day Tom came home from work - it was Friday - and told me he found out the Marriott in Newton was a place where singles our age went. "Let's go there. I'd like you to pretend to be single or at least available."

This was moving from an idea to action faster than I would have imagined, but the idea was giving me a husband interested in me again.

I decided to do it. We had a silent drive along Rt. 128: I felt a bit like I was being driven to my execution. Well, it excited my husband and, to be honest, me.

The hotel lounge was mobbed. It looked like almost all singles stayed at the ba, guys approached women, talked to them, danced, and tried to make dates. Or, maybe, to make them.

We walked in together but no one would have guessed we were a couple. I went to the bar alone, feeling uncertain. I had seriously dated only one man in my life, and married him. This was very new stuff.

After a while a couple of different guys talked to me and one danced with me three times. Those were slow dances, and he held me tighter than I would have wanted him to.

I saw Tom watching, and that made me both a little more comfortable and even a little flirtatious. I once saw him dancing with a nice looking woman. An hour went by, and then Tom asked me to dance, too. We did and used that as an excuse to leave together. Maybe some people thought he got lucky. Or that I did.

We talked on the way home. "I saw that guy dancing with you. Did he try anything?"

"No, it was just a dance. He was a proper gentleman. Up until today everyone who danced with me knew us as a couple. These guys didn't know that, they thought I was available. That was an odd feeling. What about that girl you picked up?"

"She came over and asked me to dance."

"Did you enjoy it?"

"Tina, things have changed since I was single. She liked to dance really close, and when I held her I was sure she wasn't wearing a bra, and I didn't feel any panties seam either."

"Hey, tell me more, oh husband with the wandering hands."

"Well, I could feel the heat from her groin through my pants. I got a hard on, and she knew it. But she didn't back away, either. She liked to grind her pelvis against me."

We got home, and got to bed. I wasn't happy. "Tom, I'm upset. The deal was you were supposed to be watching me, not flirting or grinding your cock into someone. I feel insecure, and I don't like this game."

He was not apologetic. "Watching you was the deal, and to be honest about it that was the best part. Dancing with her was a fringe benefit. But you know, she made me get an erection, and what really turned me on was thinking you’d be having the same effect on that guy. If we ever go there again I will just watch."

"Well just so long as you kept that thing" - I grabbed at his cock - "in your pants until we get home." He then used that thing the way I wanted him to. I asked him while we made love if he was thinking about that woman but he swore he wasn’t thinking about her but about me and the guy I danced with.

Later I learned - you will, too – that wasn’t all he was thinking about.

The next Wednesday evening Tom asked, no demanded, that we go out and "play" again Friday. I confess to daydreaming about some pick up scenarios, wondering how I'd act, what might happen. What started off as almost unthinkable outcomes (would I really let someone kiss me thinking I was single?) by Friday seemed OK and even fun. I told Tom a little about daydreaming, flirting, and being kissed. It was a kind of test and he passed because I was rewarded with some pretty turned on sex. Tom didn't say much about his own ideas, he just encouraged me with mine. He did insist on this: "If you kiss, you gotta tell."

Friday we had an early dinner so we could go out play 'See who tries to pick up Tina'. I pulled out a pretty silk dark print dress that buttoned all the way down the front, a matching half-slip, pantyhose, and a pretty bra. Tom got out a casual outfit - camel hair jacket, chinos, white opened collar shirt.

"How do I look?"

"Tina, you look great. If I was on the prowl, you'd be my target."

He took me in his arms and kissed me. He had an erection, too.

"Tina, can I make a suggestion?"

"Sure."

"You do look hot, but you look like you're going out with your husband."

"Uh, I guess that's an old habit, but I do like this dress!"

"Yeah, but. Look, try something for me, OK?"

"Try what?"

"Try it without your bra."

"What???"

"Go on. I know some of the hot women don't wear bras and I want you to look hot."

Tom must have been planning this suggestion all week. I thought that since no one would know me there I would be daring. I took it off. I'm not very busty so it wasn't uncomfortable.

"Any better, Tom?"

He held me again. "Much nicer. How does it feel to you?"

"Well, my breasts keep moving against the dress like they do when I'm wearing a negligee so it’s stimulating my nipples. I like the feeling of being kind of almost naked and of your hands on my back: it does feel very sexy. Is this the way you want me go?"

He held me at arm's length and sure enough he saw that my nipples were poking at the dress.

"I think that looks hot and you're gonna turn on some guys!"

"I am glad it's pretty dark there. Do you have any more good ideas, or can we go? If we don't go soon I'm just going to grab you by the cock and take you to bed", I said. Actually, that was what I wanted, to have a husband who wanted me.

"Maybe one more idea."

"Tom, you have an evil gleam in your eye. Now what?"

"Remember the woman I danced with?"

"Yes."

"She was very sexy."

"I know, you talked about her often enough. What does that have to do with me?"

"Well, when I held her like this when we were dancing" he demonstrated, "and I moved my hand like this," he moved it low on my back, "I just felt softness, and not the kind of hard feeling that an ass wrapped in pantyhose has."

"Wait a minute. You mean you want me to go bare under this dress?"

"Tina, your legs are tanned and smooth and great looking. You don't need stockings. I'd get an erection every time someone was near you and I guarantee you’ll get a reaction from anyone who slow dances with you. Yeah, go bare for me."

"You didn't just get this idea, did you?"

"No."

He wants me to be sexy! Is this what it was going to take to keep him interested in me? I just sat on the sofa, kicked off my heels then stood and peeled off the pantyhose.

"Try holding me now."

He did and his erection told me just how much he approved.

"Maybe we should go to bed now," I said. He felt ready for sex and I thought that would be both safe and sexy. He took my hand and pulled me to the door.

"Not a chance. We are going out! I want some other men to see you, and hold you, and dance with you while you're dressed like this. Maybe you'll get some guy as turned on as I am. Then we’ll come home. Let's go."

I pulled on a jacket because I did feel very exposed dressed as I was and off we went. We caught the after work crowd. The lounge was dark so it was OK - just barely OK -when Tom insisted I check my coat. I did, took a deep breath, and went in. Tom was already at the bar.

Three different guys offered to buy me a drink. I danced with each of them. OK, I admit it. I liked their reactions when we danced, especially when they discovered no bra strap across my back. Two of them found a reason to let their hands drift across my waist. They could feel the slip waist band, but no lower seams, no evidence of a throng, only soft flesh. I DID feel sexy!

After a while I let one guy monopolize my time. He did enough casual exploring to have figured out just what I was and wasn't wearing. He wasn’t grabby but there were casual brushes and accidental touches. He wasn't bashful about holding me tightly while we danced and after a few times on the dance floor he made sure his erection was obvious. It felt strange to feel him through the fabric of my dress. Even stranger was that I was getting excited too.

When we sat between dances he wasn’t being grabby. By then I was sitting at a small table with him and there was no hand on my leg or ass grabbing, but only casual touches. Some, like holding my hand across the table, were hints of an implied intimacy and I liked that. He didn't even try to kiss me, and that was a disappointment. I wanted my daydreams to be filled.

Tom spent his time at the bar watching. He wasn't being subtle but the room was crowded enough so I don't think anyone noticed. I saw that he talked to a woman a couple of times, but never danced with her. He was keeping his part of the deal.

After a while I figured I did enough flirting and Tom should have seen enough as a fledgling voyeur. I was horny and wanted to get in bed with my husband and I hoped that was what he wanted, too. I got my coat, walked out, and he met me in the lobby and we went to our car.

Tom pressed the remote and the car beeped its welcome. I went around to the passenger door and was surprised that Tom came with me. He was going to open the door for me and he had not done that in a long time.

He opened a door but it was to the back seat. "Let's sit here and talk for a while," he said.

After he got in the other side he said "Tina, you looked great. You had that guy so turned on I think he had to go to the men's room to masturbate. It was wonderful. I'm surprised he didn't ask you out, or did he?"

I said "He didn't ask me for a date, but he did ask me to get some air with him, to come out here and sit in his car."

"He did? Did you want to go? Do you want to go back in to him?"

"He said he was going to leave soon so I can't go back to him. I didn't know if I should go with him, or even if I wanted to, without talking to you a lot about it, first. I didn't know how you'd take it. I told him I didn't know him well enough to get in his car with him so he asked what about my car? That way he said I'd be in control."

"Stop, you're going to make me come without touching me! It sounds like he's a smooth operator. I like the idea of you being with him in a car, maybe the back seat like this."

"Not much can happen in the back seat of a Beamer like this", I said. "Back seat making out is for teenagers, not people in their mid-20s. Maybe kissing and stuff, not much more."

"Are you crazy? There's a lot of room in this car!"

"Not enough," I insisted.

I was wrong about that. "Let me show you," he said. "This could have happened." He pulled me across the seat and sort of rolled me on my back into his arms and kissed me, a big open mouth tongue all over the place kiss.

He said "I think he'd want to do that. I would want him to. I hoped somebody would kiss you like that tonight. That would be why he'd want to bring you to his car. What do you think about that?"

I knew what Tom wanted to hear and he heard it. "That would be all right with me too."

"Oh, it would? What about this?" He sort of turned me so my feet were on the seat near the door, knees up.

It was a surprisingly comfortable position for me. His right arm was around my waist and his left, under my head. That worked really well. "Oh, there's more room here than I thought," I admitted.

"I would have liked my wife to be in that guy's arms like this," he said.

"Come on Tom, that is getting weird. You have to be kidding."

"No, I daydream about it. I'd love it. I think you’re too uptight and I like thinking about you letting go."

I knew he wanted to act out what could happen, and that would turn him on. So I asked. "What would you want to happen?"

"This." He lifted me, and we kissed again. We were acting more like teenagers than a couple married three years.

"So that would be OK with you, a big open mouth kiss, with me lying in his lap like this?"

He whispered "Yes. I would want you to do that."

I knew he was getting really excited. "I'd want him to do this, too" he said. He stroked my cheek then moved his hand along the side of my neck, to my breast.

Tom could feel my nipple standing up. "Since you’re not wearing a bra he’d want to touch you like that."

“Maybe he would do that,” I agreed.

"Ahhhh, yes, let him."

Tom was letting his imagination run wild, and I was feeling very sexy, and so after a few more minutes. . . "I'd have to tell him I liked that."

" Maybe, if he was nice. . ." Tom said, and took his hand from my breast and moved it to the neckline of my dress.

He was looking down at me.

"Tom?" I said, thinking this was getting out of hand, but he worked at the buttons, opened the first couple. "I'd want him to do that," Tom said, and then took my hand and guided it to the buttons, "and I'd want you to help."

I lay there, frozen, scared. "Do it," it was a command, not a request. "He won't be able to touch you if you're all buttoned up, would he?"

“OK, if that’s what you want.” I opened one button, then another, a third, a fourth.

"Good," Tom said. "Now pull your dress aside."

I did, a little.

"All of it," he said, “I want him to see your entire breast, I want you to want him to look at you.”

So I pulled the seam way to the side and another minute passed while Tom looked down at me.

He was silent but be began pinching at my nipple. "Close your eyes, imagine it was that guy doing this. That’s what I am thinking about anyway."

I closed my eyes and let myself think it was someone else. Tom was very turned on, and I wanted to make it even better for him. I put my hand over his, holding him to me.

"Well, would it be OK with you if I did that?"

"Yes, I want you to encourage him."

I could feel myself getting wet. Another couple of minutes passed.

"You know, he'd probably do this too," Tom said. He lifted me up until his mouth found my nipple.

"Do you really want me to let someone kiss my breasts, Tom?"

"Mmmm."

"If you let him do that," he said after a moment, he'd probably do this too." He moved his hand down, across my lap, up my leg over my dress to my knee, and then down until it was touching my skin on my calf, midway between my knee and ankle.

He was my husband, and he used to stroke my legs a lot, but now he was pretending to be someone else, and. . . .

Tom's hand went under the dress and slip and then once at my knee, down along the inside of my thigh.

"Your legs are too close together, open them, let him in!" I did, and by the time he got to my vagina he found it hot and wet and available. And he didn't waste a minute. He got fingers into me, while he was still sucking at my nipple.

"Tom?"

"Yes?"

"Are you serious that you want me to get someone to do this?"

"Oh yes."

"My dress is getting wrinkled." I lifted up, pulled at my hem, and folded it and my half-slip back to my waist. His hand never stopped, but now, in the dim light of the parking lot, we could see my breast, exposed, and my legs spread with Tom's fingers moving in and out of me.

I said "Are you saying you want somebody else to be touching me, with their fingers where yours are, and looking at me all exposed like this in his car? That's all right with you?"

"Yes, that would be perfect for me."

We both enjoyed the game a little too much, and I knew my husband, pretending to be an aggressive guy who picked me up, was as aroused as he could be. Two could play that game.

"Don't you think it's a little unfair, that I'm getting all of the pleasure,” I asked.

"Oh, but I like doing this to you, I like thinking you're letting yourself go."

"If letting go is what you want," I said. . . By now his mouth was on my breast again. I pulled away from his mouth, lay my head in his lap, turned toward him a little but not enough to interfere with the wonderful things his fingers were doing to me, though.

I put my mouth on his shirt, above his belt and breathed through it so my warm breath went through his shirt, to his skin. He seemed to shiver.

I lowered my head until it was in his lap, but facing him. I could feel the heat from his crotch. I got my hand on his belt, got that open, got his pants and fly open, reached in, got my hand around his cock - what a surprise, he had an erection.

"Is this what you'd want me to do?" I asked, as I stroked him and felt twitches, and quivers, as he tried to control himself.

"Yes, do that."

"And this?" A tilt of my head, a little movement, and my lips were around his cock's head.

He pushed himself into my mouth, and I heard "Do more".

We both heard someone walk up to the car on our right, and we both looked out the passenger side window as a guy looked in. "Lucky bastard", he said because he saw Tom's hand covering my crotch and Tom's cock in my mouth. He got in his car, and drove away.

Tom usually has a lot of endurance - he can hold his erection for a long time. But now, as the other car was pulling out, I felt his cock pulse and he came in my mouth. That doesn't happen too often with us.

Afterwards, driving home -"Tom, you owe me a major orgasm."

"You're going to get one!"

His cock wasn't working any more that night, but his fingers and mouth were. I got what I wanted.

The next morning we spent in bed, cuddling, talking. "That was some fun. I like you acting like a woman on the prowl."

"It was fun pretending like that, and I liked that you were really turned on," I told him. "That you were so horny was my reward."

He asked "Would you really do that with someone else?"

I told him I thought it was pretty exciting just with him pretending to be a stranger.

"I liked that guy coming to his car and seeing you all spread out and sucking me, too. Did you?"

I gave him the answer he wanted, not the one that was true - "It made it even better."

Tom said "The whole evening was a major turn on for me. I'd like you to do that with another guy, maybe even more."

"Tom, the only 'more' left would be for someone else to fuck me. Is that what you want?"

He took my hand, and put it on his cock. It was getting hard again. "Yes."

For the first time in a long time we had sex every night that week. It wasn't the love making and intimacy I wanted, but it was so nice having a husband interested in me again. Or was he?

Of course the possibility of another Friday night out came up. I had reluctantly agreed to play again, thinking and expecting it would end up much like last weekend,. We’d find ourselves us playing at being a picked-up couple in the back seat of our car.

On Friday morning I asked "Are you sure you want to go back to the Marriott tonight? We could stay home and pretend, and act out here."

He answered with a question and a leer. "Yeah, I want to go.”

"Tom, this is a dangerous game, but I admit I like it too, but, uh, what if . . .?"

He looked at me right in the eye. "Anything you do is sure OK with me."

I was working as a psych assistant in a kid’s ward, and the kids didn't have my full attention that day. I got home early, Tom by 6:30. I was ready to get dressed. Tom wanted to help and the notion of having my husband help me get ready to go out and flirt made it exciting. I was worried before that the lack of intimacy in our marriage was a problem but that seemed to be changing.

It was getting dressed time. I don't wear much makeup. He watched as I dabbed a bit on.

"Honey, put a little perfume on your neck, too."

I did.

"Maybe some between your breasts, just in case?"

"OK."

"Thighs?"

"Tom, stop it! I can accept the idea of having someone play with my breasts, but. . ."

"OK".

I selected my fooling around outfit for the evening. Tom helped choose -- no, demanded -- I wear my silk blouse, a long wrap around skirt that could show a lot of leg if I wanted it too, fairly high heeled shoes. No bra, no slip, no panties. If we were playing strip poker, I couldn't lose too many hands. I felt naked and even a little slutty. "Tom, if tonight starts off like last week did, you may have to wait a while if I go to the parking field with someone. Is that what you want?"

His eyes told the story - it sure was! He confirmed it. "I'd like that, I want it to happen. But are you willing to do that for me? I want you to."

"I made promises to be faithful to you. I don't want to break those promises."

"Tina, “he said, "this is not cheating. It's for our pleasure, and I don't care about other people's opinions. It's between us."

"OK. I'm ready to go."

"Good, but before we do. . ."

He took me in his arms. I hoped it would be a romantic kiss, but his hands found the seam on my wrap around skirt and he reached under it, stroking my behind. "I love how hot you look and I want you act as sexy the way you look. Just in case things get really hot, I think you should have this in your purse.”

He handed me a foil packet, a condom!

“Things are not going to get anywhere near that far,” I told him but put it in my purse. Another troubling thought surfaced: why did he have a condom? We never used them, I was on birth control pills ever since I was sure Tom and I were going to have sex.

We started to the hotel: not a word was spoken as we drove along Rt. 2, not a word along 128, we were each lost in our thoughts. The hotel is just a couple of turns from 128, and we got there too soon. He whispered "Be sexy" as he dropped me off, and then went to park the car. I sat in the lobby, feeling excited, erotic, and maybe a little trashy. Tom walked in and down the hall to the lounge without acknowledging me. I waited, went to the lady's room, then with a deep breath, entered. Tonight, I was pretty sure, I'd be willing be kissed passionately by a new person, and was scared about that.

I had a glass of wine by myself courage at the bar, rejecting a couple of invitations to dance. Finally, it was show time.

It started out pretty much like the week before. Once again I danced with a couple of guys, but then almost exclusively with a tall man named Henry who was a sweetheart of a guy. Sexy, too. He wasn't grabby, but he sure knew what I wasn't wearing, there were enough of those casual touches, hands along my back and so on for him to know that. The dance floor was pretty dark, but I could see Tom at the bar watching.

I'm pretty sure he saw Henry's hand move down my back, and pass over my buttocks. I knew Henry figured out I didn’t have anything on under my skirt. I could see Tom watching, as I looked at him over Henry's shoulder. I was supposed to be sexy. When we were dancing close to the bar I held him with my arm around his back, moved closer, and made it clear to Henry I wanted to be kissed. His lips brushed mine, then my ear. When we turned again I could see Tom staring, mouth open. Henry let me know he was a little aroused, too, as he held me against an increasingly hot and hard crotch. I may be married for a while but it looked as if I was attractive enough to cause a real reaction! Early on Henry apologized when he poked me with it as we were dancing. “Opps, sorry about that,” he said. "That's all right" I told him, and moved so that the poking continued a bit.

The dance floor was dark enough so I could enjoy that contact, and he lead me close to our table at the end of the dance so he wouldn't be seen walking off with that thing tenting at his slacks.

About 10 PM I excused myself and walked along the bar to the ladies room. I nodded to Tom as I passed him. Tom was waiting when I came out of the ladies room.

"You gave me the high sign. How is it going with that guy?'

"Pretty much the way you wanted, Tom. Should we go home now and make love?"

"No, not yet. Does that guy want to go out to his car with you?"

"Not this guy, honey."

"What, then? What’s wrong with him? I'm ready for something to happen."

"There’s nothing wrong with him. He's staying at the hotel and asked me if I'd go to his room for a little more privacy."

"What!"

“Tom, he wants me to go to his room with him. That’s not too hard to understand, is it? We should leave, and you can take you home, and show me what might have happened."

"That's not my first choice," Tom said.

"Do you want me to spend more time with him here?"

"Yes, flirt more. I want you to go to his room, too. Would you actually go?"

"I don't know. Well, you said you wanted something to happen. Now we have the opportunity. Of course, there'll be other opportunities, I guess . . ."

"I know." He paused, thinking. Pretending was one thing, but this was real, for both of us. "Tina, I'm going to the men's room. I've gotta get some release from my hard on, and I don't wanna leave right now. And then I'm going to have a couple of drinks in the bar, I figure I'm going to spend maybe an hour and a half or two hours here. You can sit with me or be with him."

I got a little angry. "Tom, this was your idea. Don't put it all on me, that guy wants me to go to his room. That's because he wants privacy, and he's not going to just dance with me there. Maybe it'll be like we acted out last weekend, maybe it'll be even more and you know what that means. Do you really want me to go?"

I wanted my husband to be turned on by me, and I'd do anything to make that happen. "Well? I’d like you to take me home, but . . ."

"Damn it, stay!"

I kissed him. I liked that he was so turned on. "OK. Hey, you're going to like this, those lips you just kissed are probably going to be kissing someone else pretty soon."

He took my arm. "Tina, if you go to his room, memorize everything, OK? I want to know every detail. Everything."

I said "I don't have any experience at this with other men to know about what to expect, but I'll try to remember, and you'll know about everything we do."

I walked back, ready, hoping I'd hear Tom's voice telling me to go home with him.

He didn't say a word.

I sat with Henry again. The music was nice, so we moved back to the floor. He had his arms around me. I rested my head on his shoulder, felt him kissing my hair.

"Have you thought some more about coming upstairs with me?" I knew he was going to ask again. I held him close and felt heat and pressure and urgency from him. Would I dare? He couldn't have known what I was feeling, but I knew what I was supposed to do. I whispered "Yes. After this dance, I'll go with you."

He held me closer as we danced, and then, the music stopped. That dance ended.

It was time for a different dance to begin. "Are you ready?" I nodded. We went to the table, he tossed some money on the table and I picked up my purse.

He extended his hand toward me and I took it, sealing my agreement to go with him.

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Look for Shared, Part 2, for the rest of this story.

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