Irene and Oscar were an ordinary couple, Spanish, and living a good life together in the beautiful city of Barcelona. They had been together since they were both twenty five, roughly fifteen years.

Oscar was Irene’s only sexual partner, so she had nothing to compare him with in terms of his skills or equipment, but she loved him and had no interest in doing anything with another man.

Oscar, on the other hand, had had a lot of sexual partners, and he knew for certain, that with a cock only four-and-a-half inches long when erect, he was well below average, and he had a bit of a complex about his shortcoming, believing that he couldn’t be completely satisfying Irene, even though she always insisted that he was the only man for her, and quite big enough.

Like most married couples, their sex life had become mundane, and like most men, Oscar used fantasies to spark up his love life, but, although he mentioned them to Irene, she insisted she wasn’t interested in exploring any kinky fantasies.

Oscar’s main fantasy was that his wife would have sex with another man, or men, and realise that she had been missing out with her husband. At first, this fantasy was just secret, and under Oscar’s control, but, as time went on, he realised he was becoming increasingly obsessed with it, longing for his wife to at least try another man, but she just wouldn’t consider it.

After months of little suggestions, made during their lovemaking, Irene agreed to just talk about her having sex with other men. She insisted that she would never actually do it she would humour Oscar by pretending that she was considering it.

With that small point won, Oscar decided to approach the subject from a different angle.

“Irene my love, can I talk to you?” he asked one evening while they were lying together in bed, waiting for sleep to overtake them.

“Yes, of course, what is it?” she replied, a little concerned.

“I’ve been reading stories about women being harassed all the time, hit on, groped and so on. Apparently there’s an American website where women recount their experiences, and name and shame the men. I realised that I had never thought about the fact that you might be hit on, groped, flirted with, but wouldn’t want to tell me about it because you were embarrassed. So, have you?” Oscar asked, crossing his fingers under the covers and hoping for a hit.

“Well, sort of...I suppose,” she replied, hesitantly.

“There, I knew it. I was right to be worried. Please tell me about it, don’t be shy. I won’t be upset. I just want you to share all of your experiences with me, be they good or bad.”

“Well, you know, sometimes I get groped a bit if it’s a crowded bar, or in a very busy shop,” Irene admitted hesitantly.

“You mean when I’m with you?” Oscar asked, thrilled with the direction this conversation was taking.

“Sometimes when you’re with me, and sometimes when you aren’t, like when I have lunch with my work colleagues.”

“So this happens quite often?” Oscar pushed further.

“No, not often, and most times I’m not sure whether it’s deliberate or not.”

“And do guys ever hit on you, flirt with you, trying to get a date with you? I mean you are very attractive, so I would have thought that they would be doing that all the time.”

“Well, not all the time, silly.”

“But quite a lot?” Oscar pushed, not believing how well this was going.

“No, not really, just occasionally, but I tell them that I’m married and not at all interested, and then they back off,” Irene admitted.

“My poor love, it must make you very upset. Please, in the future, don’t keep things like that a secret. I’m your husband. You are supposed to be able to tell me everything.”

“You promise you won’t be upset?”

“I promise, now I think we should go to sleep, don’t you?” Oscar suggested, knowing he wouldn’t be falling asleep any time soon.

“Mmnn, night night. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Oscar spent quite a while lying wide awake with a serious hard on as he thought of the men who tried to chat his wife up, hoping to get a date with her.

A few days later, while Irene and Oscar were relaxing after dinner, Irene had something to tell Oscar.

“Tomorrow evening, I’m going out. It’s a work thing, and unfortunately I have to go. Eva is doing a team building thing, as per instructions from head office. This one is about customer relations, apparently. We have to meet in a bar, in the Barrio Gotica, and Eva will give us tasks to perform.”

“Oh right, that sounds interesting,” Oscar responded, liking the sound of this work function.

“Now don’t start on your fantasies. I’m not going to get picked up, it’s a work thing. Don’t spend the whole evening imagining me hooking up with some, guy, because you’ll just be disappointed,” Irene warned.

Oscar, on the other hand, was getting pretty excited about the possibilities.

The next evening, Wednesday, Irene dressed in suitably casual yet smart clothes, and she even put some recently bought underwear on, even though she was sure no-one would see it.

She arrived at the bar at about the right time, there were some of her colleagues already there, and some still to come. Eva had a tab at the bar for their drinks, so Irene got herself a white wine and joined the group, which was already quite noisy, perhaps due to nervous excitement at what the evening might be like.

Within ten minutes the whole team was assembled and Eva started to explain the tasks.

“This evening is about engaging with people we don’t know. So each of you must go up to the person in this bar, and make friends with them and get them to give you their name, their phone number and e-mail address. So, let’s get started. Lucy, you talk to that lady over there, the one with what I assume is her husband.”

Lucy went over and started to chat, and after about five minutes she wrote some details on a piece of paper which Lucy produced from her bag.

“Mission accomplished,” she announced when she got back to her seat.

“Tomas, try that young lady in the red skirt.”

Tomas did his best, but after about five minutes he returned to the group, somewhat deflated. His failure set the group on edge.

“It’s your turn Irene, you show them how it’s done. Go to that man in the dark suit sitting on the bar stool,” Eva instructed.

Irene had butterflies in her stomach as she walked over towards the man, who she could now see was rather good looking. She stopped right next to him and spoke.

“Hi,” she started.

“Hi yourself,” he replied, turning towards her and smiling.

He had a lovely smile, with beautiful white teeth.

“I’m with the group over there, we all work in a bank, and we’ve all being given tasks to perform.”

“And what would your task be?”

“I have to get you to give me your name, your phone number and your e-mail address.

Would you be able to do that for me?”

“Possibly, but only on two conditions. One, that you give me the same details on you, and two, that you let me kiss you, right here, standing at this bar, with your colleagues watching.”

“You’re a bit cheeky aren’t you? I’m a married woman. I can’t just let you kiss me.”

“Then you’ll get no details.”

“Just one kiss?” she asked.

“Yes, just one.”

“I’ll allow you one kiss on the cheek and that’s it, and I’ll give you my e-mail address, but nothing else. Do we have a deal?”

“Okay, it’s a deal,” the stranger relented.

At that moment, it occurred to Irene that this would be a fantasy come true for Oscar, and she regretted that he wasn’t there with her, watching.

“Okay, I’ll have to write on this menu. Have you got a pen?”

He produced a very nice pen from his inside pocket, and as she was writing he took a business card out of his wallet and handed it to her.

“Oh, okay, thank you,” Irene answered, a little flustered.

“Now for the kiss,” he announced, moving towards Irene, “just relax and let it happen, I won’t hurt you.”

The stranger put his right arm around Irene’s waist and pulled her firmly but gently in to him, then put his left hand behind her head and pulled them both into the kiss. Irene was very conscious that he smelt wonderful, a mixture of a very nice aftershave and his man smell.

His lips touched her left cheek. His embrace was firm and confident and she felt herself completely at ease with him.

And then the kiss ended.

“Thank you, that was very nice. You’d better get back to your group. I’ll be in touch.”

Irene said nothing, she just walked back to her group holding the business card tightly in her hand.

As she approached the group they all started clapping, which Irene found acutely embarrassing, and she turned a little more red.

Eva was full of praise for how Irene had succeeded with her task, and promised her that she would definitely be recommended for promotion, and it occurred to Irene that she should thank her new friend for taking charge the way he had.

The rest of the evening was very boring compared to Irene’s brief dalliance with the handsome stranger.

On the way home, she kept going over and over what she would say to Oscar. She was tempted to say nothing about the man, who’s name was Robert, according to his business card. But then she felt that would be selfish, to deny Oscar the excitement he would get from hearing the tale, so in the end she decided to tell him everything.

“Tell me more details, I want to hear everything,” Oscar asked, after Irene had given him the basic facts.

Irene told him about enjoying his confident embrace, and his gentle lips on her cheek.

“And he definitely said ‘I’ll be in touch’?” he asked, for the third time.

“Yes, I told you, but nothing is going to happen. I’m married to you,” she insisted.

“But you could just have a drink with him, couldn’t you, or lunch?” he begged.

“I could but I’m not going to. Anyway, I probably won’t hear from him,” Irene insisted.

“But if he does ring you, please promise that you will at least consider seeing him?” Oscar begged.

“No, I won’t promise that because it isn’t going to happen,” Irene wouldn’t relent, “so, do you want to have sex?”

“Now?” Oscar asked, surprised at his wife’s offer.

“Yes, now. I assume you’ve become aroused from our conversation.”

“Yes, please,” Oscar said as he started to drag his beautiful wife up the stairs.

They both stripped and dived into bed. Oscar grabbed a condom and covered his small but stiff penis. As he started to climb on to his horny wife she started to regret having told Oscar about the stranger, she was sure he would want her to talk about having sex with the stranger.

Oscar, on the other hand decided not to push his luck, and just imagined her having sex with the stranger in his head as he made love to his wife.

They both orgasmed very quickly, then rolled apart and drifted off to sleep.

The next day Oscar and Irene were both back to work, and for Oscar it was back to normal, as though the previous evening hadn’t happened, although from time to time he couldn’t help himself replaying Irene’s description of her encounter with the handsome stranger.

For Irene, the experience was very different. Everyone in the bank kept asking whether she had told Oscar, what his reaction had been, had it made him horny, would she see the stranger again? By the end of the day, she was getting quite irritated with all the questions, after all he’d only kissed her on the cheek.

That evening neither Oscar or Irene even mentioned the night before, and in fact they didn’t speak about it at all until Saturday evening when they were relaxing together after dinner.

“Do you think the stranger won’t contact you? It’s been a few days,” Oscar asked.

“I’ve no idea, he didn’t say when he would, and he may have changed his mind,” Irene answered, “anyway, what difference does it make, I’m not interested.”

“If he rings, will you at least consider having a drink with him or something?”

“You are crazy. I’ve told you that I’m not interested” she answered.

“All this talk about you and another man is making me horny, can we go to bed?” Oscar asked, expecting a curt rejection.

“Come on then,” Irene offered, getting up from the sofa.

It occurred to Oscar that they were having a lot more sex, since Irene’s adventure. Maybe his idea was working.

On the Sunday, Irene and Oscar were strolling in the beautiful Parc Guell, having eaten a delicious Sunday lunch. They weren’t talking about anything sexually momentous or controversial, merely chatting about the plants, the weather, friends, and so on.

Irene’s phone made a tweeting sound to tell her that she had an e-mail. As she looked at it, her heart started to beat a little faster.

“It’s from the stranger, Robert. His name is Robert,” Irene informed Oscar, who’s heart also started to beat faster.”

“What does he say?” Oscar asked excitedly.

“I’m reading it, just wait,” Irene snapped, irritated.

“Sorry.”

“Okay. He says ‘I’m in Barcelona on Wednesday and wondered whether you would have lunch with me, my treat?”

“So, I assume you’re going to say no?”

“Yes, of course I’m going to say no, I’m just trying to think how to say it politely.”

Irene typed for a few minutes and then looked at Oscar.

“Okay, it’s done. I just hope you aren’t going to go on and on about this little episode. I realise it will have further fuelled your fantasies.”

“I’ll try not to, my love, but you’re right, it has made me very excited. Aren’t you just a bit turned on by it? It’s quite a compliment too, he obviously fancies you,” Oscar suggested.

“No, I’m not turned on, but I am flattered, which is a nice feeling. Now, can we talk about something else?”