I don't know how often it happens with other couples, but fantasizing about wife sharing had become part of our pillow talk. Maybe it was because I answered my husband's questions about long-ago boyfriends and long-ago sex. There was nothing wrong with, or boring, about our life -- not the sex part, not the loving part, and not the day to day living part, but my reward for telling stories, maybe from time to time a little embellished, was a super turned-on husband.

It wasn't easy at first to talk about those other men who were part of that other life. Would AJ, this man I've been married to for such a long time, become jealous? "No," he said, "I know where your loyalty is. It's just that I like to think about your life before we were part of each other's lives, back when you were single and dating."

The pillow talk moved from long-ago erotic events to "what-ifs", little fantasies. "What would you do if... if a guy you thought was really sexy, like George Clooney, tried to pick you up?"

"...if you were tied to the bed and I brought someone you never saw before into the room?"

"if ...?"

This was pushing into the dark corners of our minds, testing to see what gave us erotic pleasure. Some ideas were turn-ons, very sexy and exciting: others, not so much. AJ increasingly talked about fantasies that included having another man look at me, touch me, have sex with me; now, in this life, not just in that long-ago one. Husband-approved sex with someone became a hot fantasy. We even did some role-playing. "I want you to imagine you're with someone you think is sexy," he said during one session, "and I want you to let him see your body." I did that -- nude, stretched out on the bed, fully exposed, available (at least in fantasy).

Once, on a Saturday morning after a session like that, we were cuddling under the sheet. More pillow talk -- "If you were naked on the bed with a guy in the room you know you would get fucked, don't you?" he asked.

I told him I knew that.

"Think about this. If you knew it was all right with me, would you?"

If only I could let go the way he'd like... well, I could pretend and decided to tease a little. I half rolled away from him until I was on my back "You know if someone like Frank," (Frank was one of those long-ago boyfriends I told AJ about) "was here..." I closed my eyes, imagined an older version of Frank beside the bed then I pulled the sheet away, and posed, arms above my head, there for the taking.

"Would this," I asked, "be the answer you'd like?"

I thought we were done with sex that morning. We were not. He leaned over me, kissed me, and his erection returned. It was, from his point of view, very much the right answer. AJ usually has excellent control of himself, sex with him can go on for a long time. But when he moved on me, over me, and in me, I smiled, tilted my hips and lifted up a little, turned my head to the side, and whispered: "I'm thinking about the way Frank used to fuck me." I didn't have time to think long.

BOOM!

Later that day he brought me a gift, a black sash.

"What's this all about?" I wanted to know.

He told me. "You've earned a black belt in tease. I loved the way you just let go of your inhibitions. I wish, sometimes, you'd do that in real life."

And that brings us to Rudy, a visiting belt in Distinguished Scholar who was on our campus for three months. There wasn't much overlap in our fields but his temporary office was near mine so we had a friendly relationship. Rudy, about sixty and therefore four years older than me, was coming to the end of his stay and would soon be returning to the UK. On the Monday of his final week, he asked me once again if I'd join him for a cocktail. The invitation had become almost a ritual between us: I had turned down his frequent suggestions before, and I think he considered making them just a pro forma thing -- reflexive, like saying 'Good Morning'.

I, remembering my husband's more than casual advice about letting go, surprised us both and agreed to the drink/meeting/date. Rudy was taken aback but soon enough we agreed to meet 6:30 that evening in the lounge of his hotel -- it would be a brief after work liberation. I called my husband to be sure he did not have a problem with what might be called a date.

He did not.

Rudy, off campus as well as on, is a charming man; slender, tall, fit, very bright, self-assured, and the Brit accent didn't hurt either. We talked about work and of personal things. He was in a happy marriage too but missed his wife and the company of a woman in general. "Especially one as attractive as you," he added.

There was a little flirting going on -- eye contact for a second too long, the casual brush of his hand over mine, things like that. Of course I had looked at the few people in the lounge and was sure there was no one there I knew --- I had a sterling reputation and meant to keep it.

After an hour and a half or so, it was time to go. It had become dark so Rudy walked me to my car, not quite hand in hand but with a body language that implied an intimacy. My remote made the Beamer chirp its "I'm unlocked" message and for the briefest moment I wondered if I had somehow been sending that message too. Not quite ready to get in I turned to Rudy to thank him for a very pleasant time. He used the isolation and darkness of the parking area to put an arm around me and pulled me closer. That fit in with the mood of the evening. I did not resist. As he tilted his head and moved toward me, I raised mine, and our lips met. It went from closed mouth to open mouth, to being held tight and in turn, after a moment, me wrapping my arms around him too, and actually feeling him start to get an erection. When it ended he said, "I am sorry, I couldn't resist."

I caught my breath and confessed, "Rudy, I didn't resist either."

Holding my hand, he asked an obvious question, "Would you come back inside with me?"

I took a moment and then said, "No, Rudy, I am not ready for that," squeezed his hand, and got into the car.

I pretty much broke the speed limit on the way home. AJ and I talked about that mini adventure. We talked about it at dinner, we talked about it when we went to bed, and later during sex. "I am turned on kissing you just after someone else did," he said. That played into something that was part of his version of our fantasies. "And I'd kiss you harder if your mouth was on other parts of his body." I knew the hardest, raw, passionate kisses I got from him was after I went down on him and he was saying... well, you can figure out what he was saying.

"You know if you went back in with him he was going to fuck you," he told me, "and I wouldn't have objected." Not that I needed reminding, but he went on to say why Rudy might be an ideal 'playmate'. He would soon be going away, this would not be an ongoing thing. That good night kiss with Rudy proved he and I had good chemistry together and I for sure knew he was healthy. What you may not realize is many academic institutions demand a complete health history as a condition for "Visitor" status from people who are not US citizens. I am the department's representative on the approval committee and read his records.

"I'll bet," my husband said as we were relaxing after not having made not love, but lust, "he will ask you out again."

"Rudy is only going to be here for a few more days," I reminded him. "In your MBA language, 'the window of opportunity' is closing fast. But I did what you asked and let go a little, and it was fun."

In retrospect, is anyone surprised that Rudy came to my office that next day, it was Tuesday, and asked me to join him for dinner. "I even have an excuse," he said, "Joyce (she is one of our doctoral candidates who was very close to finishing her thesis and graduating) has been asking me about the possibility of doing a postdoc under me. I'd like to talk about her."

I told Rudy it sounded attractive but I would have to get back to him. When he left I called my husband. "You know what will happen if you go," he said.

"If I let it happen, I am sure it will," I agreed.

"Why did you call me? For permission?"

"I don't know. I guess I wanted you to know."

"Do you want to go?"

"Honey, I am scared. This is happening too fast."

"Maybe, but nothing is cast in stone, and this is a chance for you to play with fire a little bit if you want to. You can always back away."

"What do you think?"

"Honey, this conversation has given me an erection. You are a big time tease. I want you to go. Let things unfold as they will, I will support whatever you do."

"Let me think about it, AJ." I hung up.

I did think about it. The intelligent choice would have been to decline, but AJ's "You have to let go" rang in my head too. Well, it was more than that, if I accepted this invitation it would be like accepting Rudy's invitation to return to the hotel, to his room, after that passionate goodnight kiss last night. If I accepted this invitation he would presume I was accepting that proposition, too.

My fingers were shaking when I dialed Rudy's extension.

It was decided: our date was set for seven that evening. It became the longest afternoon of my life. At five I left campus, went home and changed out of my professional casual pantsuit into a skirt and blouse. My blouse was silk and dark, my skirt dark red, wrap around, and reached to my ankle. Sandals completed the 'Southern Woman on a Date' look. At the last minute, I took my 'black belt in tease', wrapped it around my waist for an added bit of style. God, I felt sexy. I thought about my husband saying I had a black belt in tease. Well, why not do that thing I had done only a few times in that long ago real life? Why not, indeed?  I took my panties off.

I left home before AJ got there.

At the lounge I found Rudy waiting. There are still fragments of that "head talk," the conversation I had first with AJ and then with myself about letting go circulating in my head.

Rudy: "You look beautiful. I love seeing you in that outfit, it’s even more attractive than the clothes you wear on campus. I didn't think, after last night, that you would come. I had not been close to an attractive woman since I have been here and had not kissed a woman since I left my wife at the airport. I guess I lost control."

Me: "I have not been kissed that way by anyone but my husband since before I married him."

Rudy: "I don't want to cause any problems for you, and he will never find out I kissed you."

And then I sealed my fate. "Rudy, I told him. He is not angry about it, he thinks, under those circumstances, it was fitting for that to happen."

By then we were sitting in the dining room and drinks arrived. I looked around and had trouble hiding my astonishment -- a man carrying a briefcase and wearing a business suit came into the lounge and was seated a little distance away. That in itself was not surprising, this hotel is popular with business travelers, but he wasn't a business traveler, he was my husband! He sat quietly, ordered a drink, and waited. I remembered part of our ongoing pillow talk was about him saying he'd like to watch me on a date. That was another part of pillow talk: he'd like to be sure I was not just making up a story.

Rudy's face registered concern: "He's okay with that? He's not angry with you, or me?"

"No, not at all angry."

"Does he know you are meeting me for dinner tonight?"

"Yes, of course, and he approves of that too."

It took Rudy a moment to absorb that and its implications. I could see the logical analysis working in his mind.  1) Her husband knew of the kiss, and 2) knew of this dinner date. 3) If one drew a line between those two points and extended it, it would extend to at least another kiss.

At least that.

And it did not take a leap of imagination to see that line extrapolated to his room in this hotel, and to his bed in that room.  

I should tell you about the tables in the dining room. We were at a table usually set for four, there are usually two chairs on one side, a cushioned bench on the other. We were next to each other on the bench seat, and the waiter removed the two outside chairs. There were tablecloths that extended well over the edge of the table. AJ was sitting at a table a little more to Rudy's side than mine on the opposite side of the room. I could see my husband's leg to about mid-calf. If our tablecloth hung over the same length, and all the others in the room seemed to be that way, he could see my skirt from the floor to halfway up to my knee. When Rudy was looking at me, he was looking away from AJ. AJ raised his glass in a toast, smiled and winked at me. It was clear I was not making up a story.

Rudy was studying my face and thought he saw something there.  "Something is wrong, what's wrong?"

I thought for a moment and lied: "I thought I saw Gary from my department pass by the door, but I was wrong. He's at a meeting on the West Coast."

"I understand you want to be careful, but if anyone sees us we have lots of reasons to be talking about work-related things, don't worry," Rudy assured me. Then he asked, "Do you see anyone here from campus?"

It was not as comprehensive a question as he might have thought and I did not have to lie. "No."

"Well then," he said, "if you don't mind..." He was sitting to my left. My left hand was on the table; he covered it with his, reached over with his right hand to my head and turned it toward him.  We kissed.

It proved to him his ‘logical inference’ points making a line, was true.

He tested the next extension of that ‘logic.’

His lips opened.

Mine opened too.

I closed my eyes, and let the kiss continue. When Rudy leaned back I could see my husband staring. If my possessive and assertive husband didn't like something that was happening he would find a reason to come to our table and stop it. Or, he knows my cell phone was on, he could call.

"No regrets about being here?" Rudy asked.

I took his hand and asked, "Wasn't that kiss an answer?"

Our salads arrived, and we went through the motions of eating a little.

Rudy's right hand went under the table, nominally to adjust his napkin, but I felt it on the outside of my leg. It was, I am sure, still another test. I covered his hand with mine but did not push it away.

He moved it and my own hand toward the top my leg and I didn't stop that either. There was another motion, his fingers found the edge of the wrap of my skirt and pushed at it. I could feel him push at the top and how it folded partially across my lap. The other side, no longer held up, fell to the bench too.

He lifted his hand, and mine on it until it was on my knee. AJ was looking not at me but under the table. My skirt had been covering me down to my ankles, now my legs had to be visible from mid-calf down. That would have been the 'normal' view if I was wearing a dress, and would have meant nothing to a casual observer. But AJ knew what it meant. He knew where Rudy's hand was.

He was anything but a “Casual Observer,” he was an observer of his wife in the early stages of seduction, a seduction he encouraged.

God, I was feeling sexy, turned on, this was so much like things AJ and I talked about.

I took Rudy's wrist and raised that hand to my lips, then put it on the top of the table. "Rudy, excuse me. I have to go to the ladies' room."

The hotel has a rule: no cell phone usage in the dining room, but while I was in the ladies' room I wrote a quick text to AJ. He could at least read the message.

"Is this what u want?" I texted.

The answer came back almost immediately, "Y." There was another line: "the black belt is perfect."

I was turned on and feeling so sexy -- too sexy? I smoothed the fit of my clothes while I looked in the mirror: I did not look noticeably different although my nipples were making small lumps in my bra -- I'm glad I wore a dark blouse! I may not have looked different, but was I? Oh God, I was.

Back to the table, back beside Rudy. "I am sorry," he said, "I didn't mean to be too forward."

I put my finger to my lips, made a shushing sound. "You did nothing to apologize for," I told him. To prove that, I took his wrist again, moved his hand back under the table again and put it on my leg. Then took my wine and sipped at it. He reached and found my skirt's hem again. Once again his hand helped my skirt fall open under the table, and once again his hand found my knee.

My legs were demurely crossed at the ankle under the table. His hand moved a little higher, his fingers tracing along the inside of my thigh. I am absolutely certain AJ knew what was happening.

Rudy swallowed, the Adam's Apple in his throat bobbed, betraying a nervousness, but his hand moved an inch higher. And another inch. Was he uncertain, testing?

I closed my eyes but did not resist.

Another inch and another, and then I could feel his little finger begin to touch my pubic hair. He reached behind my head with his other hand and pulled me to him for a kiss. He turned the hand under the table a little and his fingertips found moisture. "No knickers! Men only dream about things like this," he muttered as our lips parted. "I don't want to wait for dinner, do you?"

There is no way I could say, “No, let’s go to your room so you can fuck me,” but I could answer another way.

I just pushed my salad plate away.

Rudy waved to the waiter, demanded a check, scrawled his signature and room number on it, and took my hand. I was sure a careful observer -- and AJ was a careful observer -- would have had a brief flash of more leg than might have been expected as I slid out from the bench.

AJ watched me leave with Rudy, out the dining room, down the hall. The hall leading to the elevators were visible from AJ's table, and he saw me go into one and probably into Rudy’s arms, too.

It was a rush to Rudy's room, He made a couple of frantic swipes at the lock with his card before he got the door's green light. He pulled me to the bed that was already turned down, pushed me on it, and with me on my back kissed me and this time he was not reticent about getting his hand on my leg, then up my leg, until he pushed his fingers into me. "I want you so bad!"

He had possession of me and he knew it.

I tried to slow things down a little. "May I go to your bathroom?"

As I went I saw him shrugging out of his suit coat.

Once in there. I texted  AJ. "U no what's going to happen if I stay here," I texted him.

He texted a single word back. "Stay". A second line appeared: "I will wait 4 u."

My skirt was already wrinkled. I looked around the bathroom for inspiration.

There, a large bath towel!

I came out, wrapped just in that,  my clothes were left hanging in the bathroom. Rudy, now only wearing his suit pants, got off the bed and reached for me. "This is a fantasy come true," he said, "I never expected to see you in my room like this!"

It was a much more assertive embrace this time, a much more intense kiss, more caresses, over the towel, down over my hips, and under it, his hands on my actual hips, no longer protected by the think towel.

The towel may have been thick, but I could feel his erection pushing against me.

Rudy released me from his hug, yanked at his belt, and in a moment had pushed his pants and briefs to his ankles, and kicked them off.

“Are you sure it’s okay for you to be here, I don’t want to cause you any problems," he said.

“My husband wants me to feel sexy,” I told him, “and this is part of it.”

“Please, take off the towel, let me look at you,” he rasped, but his erection clearly didn’t need much more stimulation, he was hard, it was bobbing with every heartbeat.

I did not do that. Instead, I walked closer, between his spread legs, and bent down to kiss him. During a pause in that, from his perspective at least, “is this really happening?” kiss. I whispered, “If you want the towel off, you have to take it off.”

He fumbled a little at the way I had it tucked into itself to make it a wrap, but during the next kiss it fell free.  And his next kiss was to my neck, and as I stood a little more upright, leaning toward him, his lips found my nipple. I held his head there, my eyes closed, enjoying the sensation, but when I opened them, looking to the side, I saw the mirror on the closet door, reflecting the scene.  

I’ve always thought men were the more visually stimulated (there are lots more nude women photos than nude men on Lush) but the sight of me, leaning toward him, his head against me, his mouth nursing at my breast, me nude, him also nude, with his cock visible rising a little above his thighs, well that was very erotic. (Probably more so in memory than in actuality, I guess.)

I had not seen a different man nude, in the flesh,  since before I was married, but that image is frozen in my mind. R rated? X rated? The mirror, I was sure, would soon see something that was triple X.

Would the mirror remember?

Would, it, could it, tell?

Rudy turned me, and himself, onto the bed. He was leaning over me,  kissing at my neck, my breast. I remember sighing, lifting my his a little to meet his lips as he kissed further down my body.

Our fantasy was that I would give Rudy full and unrestricted access to me, and I did.

Rudy was leaning over, beside me, and moved a little more as his mouth covered my vagina, and I could feel his tongue in me. His cock was throbbing beside my head.

I remembered AJ's comment about kissing me after I kissed someone else, or after I did more with my lips and mouth than just kiss that someone else.

I pushed at his hip until he was on his back. His penis pointed straight up. His pulse was evident in it.

It was my turn to bend over him. Oral was part of foreplay with long ago boyfriends, and oral is something AJ had fantasized about me doing.

This was AJ’s doing, AJ’s fault. I kissed at Rudy’s hip: he jerked as if he had gotten a shock.

"Are you all right, Rudy?"

There was a nod: "Yes I am. My wife never does that."

"Then enjoy this," I said. He was staring at me, I could see that. I moved so that I was kissing at his upper leg. The man was quivering! I held his penis between my thumb and forefinger, holding it still, then looking at him kissed at its underside. I could see he was almost gasping in pleasure, in anticipation. I wanted him to look as my lips moved higher up his shaft. I knelt, bent over, and let him see my lips touch the tip of his erection. I was still low on his body, he could watch my face as my lips opened a little and I let my tongue touch that same tip. He was shaking, his hips making little thrusting movements. His wife never did this?

I took him into my mouth, went down on him. He was nearly out of control, hips thrusting, a hand on the back of my head, pushing me harder on him, him harder into my mouth.

But only for a moment. He pushed me onto my back, rolled on top of me, straddling my legs with his, his penis poking at my belly.

"Do I need to wear a condom? I bought some in case you wanted me to." I leaned up and kissed him, then pulled him forward on me as I moved back on the bed. That was an action that spoke louder than words.

Just for a moment, he became a gentleman again, not an over-eager teenager in a sixty-year-old body. "Are you sure about this?"

He felt me move, felt the pressure of one of my left leg pushing his aside. He moved, rolling to one side a little so that my leg could escape from between his. Now our legs were intertwined, but I moved the other one, he lifted up, and settled back down, with me, legs spread, my center was open to him.

And his penis was on my groin.

I stretched out tall again -- guys who have seen my photos remark that almost always I posed that way.

I finally whispered, "Rudy, I am sure."

"Ah," he said, and reached down between us, positioning himself. "I wanted to do this from the first time I saw you." There was that blunt pressure against me, against my groin. I tilted my hips, he moved his cockhead along my lips. "I masturbated a hundred times thinking about fucking you." I could feel him move between my lips, I was opening for him, could feel him start in, and then he pushed, spreading me as he entered, sliding easily into me.

It was no fantasy now, another man was in me!

I lifted my head, looked between us. His erection came out, glistening with my moisture.

He looked down between us, saw what I did and rammed into me again. It has been a very long time since I had sex with anyone other than my husband. There were things I didn't remember but now was being reminded of, like some men's inability to control themselves. Rudy was one of those: uncomplimentary phrases came to mind, like Minuteman. All of the changes I love about sex began happening, but too soon. The urgent movements, the increased heat, the pressure, a savage look on his face, and then those spaced thrusts matched with his grunts that meant he was ejaculating.

And he was done. A few more thrusts, then out, it was over for him, he rolled beside me. "It has been too long, I am sorry I was not better."

All of that fantasy talk at home, all of that build up, but never once did we consider premature ejaculation!!

"It's okay, it's all too new," I said.

He sighed, sagged back, his eyes closed, and Rudy, this Distinguished Scholar, this English Gentleman, let his eyes close. In a couple of moments, he fell asleep.

It took only a minute to get dressed. I left the room, went downstairs, hoping all was well with my marriage and with my husband, and oh, how I was hoping he was still there.

He was. I was in his arms, being held, being made to feel secure, in an instant. "I thought you'd be up there for hours. Are you okay?"

"I am now," I told him, "I am because I'm in your arms."

"I need to know. Did he...?"

"Yes."

"Come home with me," he said.

"My car?"

"We'll get that tomorrow."

He held my hand the whole way home, told me he loved me every mile, and finally we were in the garage, then in the kitchen, and finally in the bedroom. "Did it really happen? You were only up there for only a little time, but for every minute I had an hour of exquisite agony, imagining..."

I interrupted him, "Let me just hold you, I'll tell you everything. But for now, I want to just feel secure."

I was being held by someone who knew where all of the hot buttons were. "Later, I want you to tell me and show me what happened," he said, but for now, I want to hold you."

I was next to a naked man again. I had never been with two different men in the same week, now it was AJ, then Rudy, then AJ, all in two days.

"I want to prove how much I love you," he said, kissing me.

"I just was kissing Rudy," I said. The kiss grew more intense.

He pulled away after a moment. "I want to know, did you....?"

I knew the question was coming and now I felt I could talk about it. "Yes, I did go down on him."

The next kiss was very long and very hard. "You're making me feel secure with you," I told him.

"Good."

Then his kisses went from lips to throat to my breasts. "Did he kiss you here?"

"Yes."

He kissed at my belly. "Here?"

"Yes”

“I hope he went down on you,” AJ muttered, and then he moved lower. "No. AJ, you had better stop, he..."

But it was too late, and AJ did not stop. We had done oral after intercourse but that was after AJ was in me, not Rudy.

Too late!

AJ knew exactly what he was doing, because in a few minutes, after causing me to have a mini orgasm, he told me he did that to prove what I did was great as far as he was concerned.

"And," he added, "as a way of thanking you. Show me everything that happened."

I did just that. Every detail, except this time there was no premature ejaculation.

There was a bouquet of roses on my desk the next morning, and the staff assistant said, “There was no card, he said you’d know who sent them. You and your husband must have had a special celebration last night, it was sweet of him to send you flowers but I never remember him sending roses.”

When I took them home that night my husband had only one question. “Rudy?”

He took the roses to our bedroom and took me there, too. “I ran out of steam last night, but I want a complete replay from my hot wife.”

I had been thinking about that, and told him, ”I think you pretty much pimped me, fella.”

“I did,” he confessed, “and I hope to again. What do you say to that?”

Some kisses are questions, some are answers. I answered with a kiss,