The Anniversary Gift

[Gareman]

OOC: This is a closed thread for Maid of Marvels and myself...but stay tuned, we may need others...

Mark Chandler: Age 47...Senior VP for marketing at a local company...straight laced and very much in love with his wife of 25 years.

IC: Cara and I had been dreading this wedding since we received the invitation, over a month ago. Although my colleague (Tim) was a good friend, the social circle that he and his wife had chosen wasn't exactly one that Cara and I were comfortable with. We certainly were financially able to hang with the "in" crowd, but had always preferred a more "down to earth" group with which to spend our time.

His son Jeremy and his fiance Tara looked wonderful together and seeing them take their vows brought back more than a few memories of our special day. Who could believe that twenty-five years had passed since we stood together for the first time as man and wife.

As we drove to the reception we reminisced; replaying the highlights of our own wedding day and predicting how lavish the party was going to be that evening. Cara had to remind me several times to behave myself... "Remember honey," she had insisted "we can still have a great time, even if the company isn't the best."

I smiled, loving her as much today as I had 25 years ago...

 

[Maid of Marvels]

I snuggled against Mark as he drove. Our children, Meagan who was twenty two and Mark, Jr. twenty four, often teased us about sitting next to each other like love-struck teenagers. Well we were love-struck -- just not teenagers anymore. Not by a long shot.

We had married young. I was only twenty and Mark twenty two when we met in college. He was a business major, I was liberal arts. We could have waited. Our parents wanted us to. But from the minute we met, we knew that neither of us wanted to be away from the other longer than we had to be. Okay, maybe duct-taping ourselves to each other to use the bathroom was going too far, but we were in love and eager.

Our wedding was in June, just after Mark's graduation. He was going to do some post-graduate work the following year and I lightened my course load so that we could both work to get us through. By the time I was ready to graduate, I was pregnant with Mark Jr. but I still managed, much to my parents' relief. I would be the first girl in our family to have gone to college and they would really have been disappointed if I hadn't finished.

Looking up at my husband, I realized -- and not for the first time -- just how lucky I was. Not only was he a wonderful husband, he was successful and exceedingly handsome. One might even say distinguished now that he'd started to gray at the temples.

I guess the years hadn't been too hard on me either. My hips were a little fuller but my boobs were good and so were my legs. I supposed I could attribute that to bike riding and walking daily. The important thing was that I still turned him on. Neither of us had any complaints in the bedroom. Or the kitchen. Or the living room.

Chuckling at the naughty thoughts that were coming to mind, I placed my hand on his thigh. "You know there are gonna be some hot chickies at the reception. Maybe I should bring in the umbrella to beat them off."

"Nah. Let them have their fun. You must have had your fill of me by now, haven't you?" Mark replied as he placed his hand on my knee and began to slide it up my thigh.

"Ooh... I knew I shouldn't have worn panties!"

"Hussy!"

"That would be strumpet to you, Mr. Chandler. Ohh!" I gasped as his fingers found their mark and he began rubbing me through the thin material of my panties.

Just as I was admiring the rising bulge in his trousers, he announced that we had arrived. "Tease," I hissed as he removed his hand to put the car in park.

"Yup," he grinned back. "Haven't had a complaint yet. Now let's get this show on the road."

"We'll see. We'll see." I checked my makeup and hair in the mirror and then slid over to follow him out of the car. Twenty five years, I thought. And God willing, we'd see twenty five more.

 

[Gareman]

As we made our way into the reception hall, I held Cara's hand, guiding her through the milling crowd. Tim greeted us warmly, thanking us for coming and introducing us to a few couples that he and Patti chummed around with. I noticed several times how he looked at Cara when he felt that I wasn't paying attention...his eyes moving down to her breasts and remaining there for more than a passing glance. She had told me on several occasions how "creepy" she felt around him, never really able to explain the reason for her discomfort. But I had always known of his "special interest" in her and had tried my best to convince her that he was an okay guy.

"Well Tim," I said placing my arm around Cara's shoulder. "I think we're gonna grab a few drinks and find our table. We'll see you later."

Cara smiled politely and allowed me to lead her to safety as Tim began greeting more of the guests. Someday I would tell Cara about Tim...maybe tonight...or maybe not.

Arriving at our table, I was relieved to see another coleague, Fred and his wife Arlene. Cara and Arlene always hit it off very well, sharing many common interests and having like personalities. I left the women to get reacquainted, while Fred and I went to fetch the drinks.

Waiting at the bar, I occasionally glanced back at our table. Each time, I admired my beautiful wife, feeling so lucky to have found such a fantastic partner. After 25 years, I could honestly say that I couldn't be happier. She was the best thing that ever happened to me and I would be lost without her.

"Hey Mr. Chandler!" a young man said, slapping me on the back. "Haven't seen you in quite a while."

It was Paul, Jeremy's best man and longtime friend.

"I just saw Mrs. Chandler and made her promise me a dance...hope you don't mind!"

Paul had always come on a little too strong for my liking, but I had always shrugged it off to youthful exhuberance. Maybe someday he'd mature a bit and be the fine man I know his father hoped for.

"You know I've always been attracted to her...so you'd better watch her closely...or I may just sweep her off her feet....heh..heh...heh!"

His words stung me. I couldn't imagine Cara having any interest in a loud-mouthed punk like him, but I felt a little uneasy. Maybe a young stud with twice my endurance could be of interest to her. I felt a little queasy as I returned to the table with our drinks. The kid had definitely planted a seed...but how stupid could I be for letting it grow inside my mind...

 

[Maid of Marvels]

Arlene and I made small talk, catching up on our children, jobs, husbands, interrupted only by Jeremy's best man, Paul who was asking for a dance. She arched and eyebrow when I accepted and when he was out of earshot the two of us giggled naughtily, not unlike Wilma Flintstone and Betty Rubble.

"He is a cutie," Arlene said with a sly smirk. "Even if it would be robbing the cradle."

"Hush! It's only a dance."

"But did you see how he was looking at you? All puppy-eyed."

"Was not. I'm old enough to be his mother." Now why did I say that? I felt I was protesting as if there might actually be something to consider there. Foolish woman. It was all flattery in the end -- and who didn't like to be flattered?

"Ladies."

I looked up to see Mark and smiled as he placed my drink in front of me, not missing Arlene's admiring glance. Leaning over as he sat, I placed my hand on his knee and kissed him lightly. I had the handsomest date there and I knew it.

"You ready for that dance now, Mrs. Chandler?"

It was Paul again. I started to turn him down but then grinned, knowing that he wouldn't stop until I finally got up. Boys and young men were like that. Best to get it over with -- and I did love to dance.

"I haven't even had a chance to taste my drink, boyo. But there's no time like the present." I lifted my glass and sipped from the stirrer-straw that the bartender had set in it. "There! Now I've had my sip and now you'll have your dance."

Paul pulled my chair out and I smiled at Mark as I stood. He had a strange kind of look on his face, but maybe it was just because neither of us really had wanted to be here except out of obligation. I patted his shoulder. "Don't worry, darling. The rest of my dance card is filled with your name."

 

[Gareman]

I felt the blood rush to my head as Paul approached Cara, requesting a dance. Maybe it was our earlier conversation that bothered me...or maybe the look he shot me while she took a sip from her drink. Whatever it was, I was not happy watching my wife of twenty-five years leaving with him. Even if it was just to dance.

My eyes locked onto them as they moved around the dance floor...Paul's hand around her waist...pulling her a little closer than I would have wished. Every once in a while, he would lean in and say something. Several times Cara looked surprised at his comments...laughing openly and shaking her head.

I found myself completely oblivious to my surroundings, save for the couple on the dance floor.

Several times Paul's hand slid down Cara's back and approached her ass. Although it seemed to take forever, she repositioned it each time, obviously reprimanding him for each indescretion. I knew it was not in my best interest to make a scene and break in. Certainly Cara could handle herself and I trusted her totally. But something felt very funny about the whole scene. Something I couldn't put my finger on.

After the song ended, Cara started walking back to our table. I felt relief. She had done the right thing, but was now returning where she belonged. However, Paul had other ideas. Following her, he took her by the hand and stopped her, obviously asking for another dance. Cara shook her head, smiling politely and trying to break free. But the little bastard kept insisting until finally she relented.

I should have made my move and rescued my wife. But something stopped me...

I was frozen...

Cara's hand on Paul's shoulder.

His hand now permanently on the upper part of her ass.

They danced.

And inexplicably I started to become aroused...

 

[Maid of Marvels]

I was relieved when the dance ended. Paul was a veritable octopus, though he seemed to show at least a modicum of restraint after being reprimanded a few times -- for a minute. The innuendo, however, both startled and disturbed me. I was used to guys flirting, but this was uncomfortable in a way that made me think it wasn't just innocent banter.

"You're a real babe, Mrs. Chandler." To which I replied, "I'm old enough to be your mother." "I think older women are sexy." To which I replied, "Your mother wouldn't like to hear you say that to her." "But you aren't my mother, are you?" All I could do was close my eyes and hope they'd speed up the tempo of the song so I could get away.

"Do you know what a great ass you have?" That, as his hand slid slowly downward for at least the tenth time. "Yes, Paul. My husband likes it also. And he's watching." No reply, he just turned us around so that Mark couldn't see what he was up to.

No matter what I said or did to discourage him, the whippersnapper had a ready comeback. Deciding I had no chance of winning this battle of mental and physical gropings without causing a scene, I didn't know what else to do but consent when the dance ended and Paul tugged at my arm for another, hoping Mark would break in and save the day.

My head was really starting to hurt and for the gazillionth time that day and the days leading up to this wedding, I wished we hadn't been obligated to attend.

 

[Gareman]

I want to step in.

Everything tells me to.

To save Cara from this punk and his wandering hands.

I raised my glass to my lips, my hands shaking...cock throbbing in my pants.

Cara looks over, her eyes pleading as Paul wraps his arms around her...pulling her close.

Both hands now on her ass...

His body grinding against hers...

He moves her discreetly into a corner...

I see her expression begin to change...

Its a look I recognize immediately...

Her eyes close and she begins to bite on her lower lip as he continues to move against her...

Her hands grip his shoulders tightly...

And then I go. Striding quickly across the dance floor. Tapping him on the shoulder.

"I think I'd like to finish this song," I insist, pulling her hands from him and moving in between.

His expression is one of cocky arrogance. The little fucker knew exactly what he was doing and how close he had come to giving Cara an orgasm.

"Thanks for the dances Mrs. Chandler," he says, smiling. "Maybe you can squeeze me in for one more before the night is over."

Cara buries her face in my chest and ignores him completely as we begin to dance. My arms encirle her, my protective instincts returning after almost failing me earlier.

I stroke her hair gently and whisper softly.

"Have I ever told you how much I love you, Mrs. Chandler?"

I love the feeling of her against my chest. I just hope she can't sense the confusion I feel or the strange thoughts that are streaming through my mind...

 

[Maid of Marvels]

My wish was answered -- and just in the nick of time -- as Mark broke in to finish the dance. I figured he must have seen what Paul was doing, because dancing was the worst form of torture as far as my husband was concerned.

As Mark wrapped me in his arms and moved us across the floor and away from the testosterone driven young man, I looked into my husband's eyes and feigned a look of shock. "No, sir. I don't believe you have told me. And what would my husband say if he could hear you saying this?"

A funny look came over Mark's face that I couldn't quite figure out. After twenty five years of living with this man, I had come to know his every expression. This one was quite different from any I'd seen before. If I wasn't mistaken, Mark almost looked guilty about something. But what?

"Darling?" I murmured against his neck as I pressed myself against his body. "Is it almost time to leave yet?"

 

[Gareman]

Returning to our table after the dance, I have difficulty coming to terms with what I just winessed - and more importantly - my reaction to it. For all the anger and jealousy that I feel toward the little punk for practically raping Cara on the dancefloor, there's an equally powerful and undeniable sexual energy to it all. Seeing her with another man...even if it was Paul...was somehow strangely exciting to me.

Throughout dinner, I try to act normally...laughing at Cara's comments about some of the guests and replying with some of my own. But deep inside I'm not really here. Part of me is off in another world wondering why I would possibly find it exciting to see Cara with another man.

After dinner we stay for a bit before expressing our well-wishes to the newly married couple and heading for the exit. I breathe easier as we walk through the parking lot with my beautiful wife on my arm, safe and sound from the eager young man who had more than dancing on his mind.

Driving home, there is an uneasiness silence. I can't seem to find the words to break the spell that has somehow come over us. Cara has a distant look in her eyes that is so different than anything I've ever seen before. Could it be that Paul has had an effect on her...could she possibly be thinking about "him" as we drive?

Entering the house, we still seem to be having difficulty communicating. Cara heads upstairs to get changed and I follow, minutes behind, after locking up and turning off the lights for the evening.

As I enter our bedroom, Cara is standing before the mirror in her bra and panties studying herself. She's so intense that she doesn't see me... and suddenly I get the urge to do something unusual. Sneaking up behind her, I wrap my arms around her waist and slowly slide a hand down the front of her panties, spreading her soft pussy lips wide to expose her clitoris. Allowing my fingers to begin circling her sensitive nub, I begin to speak.

"Mrs. Chandler, I understand that Mr. Chandler is out of town," I whisper, holding her tight and playing with her moistening pussy. "How about having a little fun?"

 

[Maid of Marvels]

I had been examining my body for signs of wear and tear and aging when my husband walked into the bedroom. I just couldn't help wondering what had prompted that Paul boy from coming on to me at the reception. Time hadn't been too harsh on me, but he was young and there were far more desirable and younger women that should have drawn his attention rather than me. Was I desirable still? Something about the thought that I might be had done things to my ego -- and my libido -- that I hadn't thought possible.

"Do I know you?" I asked, trying to sound shocked.

Watching our reflections in the mirror, Mark's fingers had already begun working their magic between my legs. He knew my body so well, I knew it wouldn't take me long, but there was something both naughty and taboo about what my husband was leading up to that made me decide to play along.

"Well... I don't know. I've always been faithful to my husband, you see."

Mark was watching my face intently with a strange look in his eyes, though his fingers continued to move skillfully over my clit, sliding them deeper into my wetness. I could feel his erection straining through his trousers, pressing between the cheeks of my bottom.

Totally aroused by his attentions and the little scenario he was building, I reached up and cupped my breasts through the thin material of my brassiere, pinching and rolling my aching nipples. Mark's eyes flickered downward to watch my hands and fingers for a moment before looking at my face again. What was he looking for? It was as if he were searching for something.

"What do you suppose my husband would think about this, Mr. erm... I didn't catch your name." I pressed back against him as I spoke, gyrating softly against his firmness.

I couldn't stop the low moan that rose up from somewhere deep inside of me as his fingers plunged into my puss. I was teetering on the edge now, unsure of how long I could hold off. I wanted to, and yet... I pulled the straps of my bra down over my arms and slipped them out before reaching behind to undo the hooks that still held it in place.

"Mmm... " I practically purred as his free hand trailed up my body and covered mine. "What would Mark say?"

Happy Belated Birthday, Gman!

 

[Gareman]

Cara is confused at first, not knowing how to respond. She looks at me in the mirror, a strange look of uncertainty slowly melting as my fingers begin to explore her...urging her on.

Her fingers fumble with the clasp of her bra...and then she opens it and the sheer bra falls to the floor.

"Don't be shy Mrs. Chambers," I continue, my free hand now moving up to cup a bare breast. "I could tell when we were dancing that you were interested."

Her expression becomes more confused when she realizes that I'm pretending to be Paul...but I continue to slide my finger over her swollen clit...my other hand beginning to pinch and roll her nipple between my thumb and forefinger. Soon her eyes are closed and she begins to sofly bite down on her lower lip.

Leaning closer, I nibble on her neck - whispering into her ear.

"And I don't think Mr. Chambers will ever have to find out about this," I say quietly. "It will be our little secret."

Cara moans softly as I spread her pussy lips and slide a finger inside...her legs tremble...breathing coming more rapidly.

"Just relax and let it happen....you know you want me."

My hand releases her breast and moves down...sliding her panties over her ass...and allowing them to drop to the floor. She's lost in the moment, stepping out of them...unable to speak.

Turning her to face me, I push her gently against the wall. Placing one hand behind her knee, I raise her leg and step forward...my cock touching the softness of her pubic hair.

"Now reach down and guide me in, Mrs. Chambers," I instruct.
No one will ever know."

Despite Cara's burning need I sense confusion and reluctance. Her eyes open as I instruct her to guide me in...questioning...almost asking for permission. This is all so new to us...role playing...her with another man...the whole scene...uncharted territory.

Her body needing me inside...every other instinct balking at the idea of another man...fucking her. Her eyes beg for confirmation...is this really what I want? The question burns in my own mind.

And then I speak...softly...my mouth against her ear...

"It's okay honey...give Paul what he wants..."

 

[Maid of Marvels]

He was holding my leg up -- my knee crooked on his hip, his mouth against my ear -- as I reached between us to guide his stiffness into the place I longed for him most. I felt as though I was moving through whipped cream as I parted my slick cleft with his cockhead, sliding it slowly, teasingly through my wetness before bringing him to my entrance.

"There... " I murmured, my free arm wrapped around his neck. "Please... "

Paul's knees bent slightly as he pushed upward past my inner folds. His movements were slow, deliberate. I could feel him spreading me inside only to reshape myself to the length and girth of him as I tightened around him.

Wrapping my legs tightly around his waist, my body was buffetted against the wall as he rammed into me. His mouth was on my neck, biting. His hands on my breasts -- twisting, pulling. His cock was swollen -- hard. His need -- our need -- ravenous.

It was like a dream. Paul. Mark. Paul. It didn't matter. All that mattered was that his cock was in my pussy and I was on my way over the edge of the precipice that would take me to my release. "Fuck me! God! Fuck me hard!"

 

[Gareman]

The scenario is powerful.

Half of me wants her to reject the concept. How could she possibly be with anyone else? We've been together for so long...through so much...sharing everything. And now to even consider another man? Impossible!

But something newly discovered is pleased when she reaches down and guides my cock to her wet hole.

My mind flashes back to the reception...

Paul's hands on Cara's ass as they move across the dancefloor. Her early protests giving way to acceptance(?)...possibly desire(?) as he pulls her closer...grinding his hardness against her. Her eyes closing...body betraying as the pleasure builds...

I open my eyes and see my beautiful wife as I lean forward and penetrate her. She breathes deeply as I slide inside...wanting me...needing me to fill her... Or was it Paul that she was imagining?

"Fuck me! God! Fuck me hard!"

Her words are uncharacteristic...Cara barely swears...but they sound so sexy coming from her mouth.

"That's it Mrs. Chambers," I say softly as I begin to move powerfully into and out of her warm pussy. "You like my cock inside of you...don't you?"

Closing my eyes I now can see my wife...lying on her back...legs spread as Paul fucks her in the backseat of his car. She offers no resistance and seems to be enjoying herself tremendously.

I feel Cara's breathing becoming labored as I slam into her and sense her orgasm approaching rapidly...

"Don't fight it Mrs. C," I encourage. "Just let it happen...I've got plently more for you..."

The whole thing is erotic and disturbing at the same time...but something inside needs to hear her call me Paul. And yet I wonder how I'll handle it if she does...

 

[Maid of Marvels]

Our lovemaking that night was like no other in all our nearly twenty five years of marriage. It was dirty, hot and needy and our orgasms were mind-blowing. We didn't talk about it later, but I knew that it was weighing heavy on both of our minds.

For myself, I felt a little bit as if I had cheated on my husband -- something I had never considered doing. As far as Mark was concerned, I wasn't really sure where that scenario had come from. On the other hand it was wildly exciting to have played it out -- and we continued to do so over the next couple of weeks or so. Not every time, but many times.

We still didn't discuss the "why" of it, but I found myself thinking back to that day at the reception more and more often. Had I encouraged Paul to come on to me? Had Mark really noticed? Did I like the feel of Paul's hands on me, his body pressing against mine? Was it just an ego thing for me -- the knowing that I could still attract a much younger man? And what about Mark? What turned him on so much about it that he had us acting it out in our lovemaking?

I was just finishing the washing up from breakfast when the sound of the doorbell roused me from my thoughts. Wiping my hands hurriedly on the dishtowel, I went to see who was there.

"Mrs. Chambers?"

I nodded. The man was from Minnensohn's florist and he was carrying a huge box.

"Someone thinks you are very special. Enjoy your day," he said as he transferred the almost unwieldy package into my hands and turned away.

"My husband. And, yes, he does" I replied as a huge grin lit up my face. Mark did love me very much, as I did him. As I always would.

Setting the box on the kitchen table, I opened it to see two dozen long stemmed and thornless orange roses. "Mark, you silly heart -- these must have cost you a fortune!" I exclaimed as I began to separate them and remove the vials of water from the base of each flower.

As I fiddled with them, a card fluttered to the floor. Bending over, I picked it up and removed it from the envelope. He must have added a special message for me. Grabbing the phone, I began to dial Mark's office number as I read.

"Mark Chambers, here."

"Hello, my darling one. I wanted to... " What I saw with my eyes finally made contact with my brain. The flowers were not from Mark at all. They were from...

"I... I just wanted to tell you that I love you is all."

"I love you, too, Cara. What brought this on?" Mark chuckled.

"Oh, nothing. I just wasn't sure if I'd said it to the milk man or you this morning. Better to be safe than sorry?" I laughed, but I didn't really feel like laughing as I wondered if Mark could hear the edge in my voice or the thunder of my heartbeat.

"Anyhow... I'm going shopping. I'll see you around six?"

"Try to stop me. I love you, Cara." Mark replied and hung up, leaving me to read the card again.

Dearest Cara,

I am sorry that it has taken me so long to send proof of my appreciation for your company at the wedding. I cannot get you out of my mind.

I am enclosing both my work and home numbers in hopes you feel the same.

Yours,
Paul

work: 555-4598
home: 555-3657

Knowing I should throw the card away without giving it another thought, I tucked it into my pocket instead and prepared the roses to place them in a vase.

 

[Gareman]

I sit at my desk, my fingers drumming as I contemplate Cara's strange phone call. It was very unusual for her to phone me during the day unless it was something really important; a practice we had adhered to for as long as I can remember. And something in her voice didn't sound quite right...or was it just my overactive imagination?

As I sit, my mind drifts back to the first night we role-played. Cara had been somewhat shy...almost reluctatnt to allow the scenario to play out. It was almost as if she had felt guilty for even considering the possiblilty of another man being inside of her. I had found myself convincing her to relax and play along.

Moving forward...I had noticed her reluctance and shyness quickly fading...her willingness growing...her orgasms intensifying. Two nights ago she had even initiated the role-playing. And the sex was out of this world!

But neither of us was brave enough to discuss our new-found game. Maybe it was something better left alone. Maybe I didn't want to know how much she was enjoying it. And maybe I couldn't explain to her why it fascinated me so much.

Closing my eyes, the images appear immediately...

Cara slowly peeling her jeans and panties down her perfect legs...her voice imploring "Promise me that Mark won't ever find out."

Hands now fumbling with the buttons...opening her blouse...dropping it to the floor...

Reaching around behind...releasing the clasp on her bra...dropping it also...exposing her beautiful breasts...eyes dropping to the floor as a male figure appears...

Again she speaks...."God forgive me..."....

Slowly lowering herself to her knees...she reaches out...taking his erect penis...opening her mouth and leaning forward....


"KNOCK...KNOCK...KNOCK"

I'm startled by someone knocking on my office door. And the the door swings open. It's Phil...my boss.

"Hey Mark," he says, striding confidently across the room. "Hate to do this to you...but I need you to get to SanDiego A.S.A.P."

I sit...silently...waiting for the rest.

"We're close to getting the Hawthorne deal and your the guy to get the job done."

His words are lost on my distracted mind.

"Marcia's got you on the 10:00AM flight. Buy whatever you need out there."

The last part brings me back to earth. I've got a plane to catch in 45 minutes...

"Wow Phil," I say, trying to find my speaking voice. "I guess if it's that important..."

"Thanks Mark," he interrupts. "I knew I could count on you."

-----------------------

Calling Cara, on the way to the airport, I again sense a strangeness in her voice. It's not uncommon for me to get called away suddenly so I'm sure it's got to be something else.

Closing my eyes and drifting off, I decide that whatever is going on with Cara will have to wait. There will be enough time to hash out that situation when I return in a few days. Maybe being apart will give me the space that I need to sort everything out too...

 

[Maid of Marvels]

He'd be gone for at least three days -- possibly more. This trip couldn't have come at a worse time... Or maybe it was a good thing, after all?

I'd sorted the roses into three vases; one for the living room, one for the dining room and a smaller one for the bedroom. Would I have done that if Mark was going to be home? Of course I would have! Wouldn't I?

Throughout the day I kept pulling the card from my pocket, telling myself that I should throw it away, but it seemed I was always more steps than I cared to take to the nearest waste basket, and I'd put it right back where I'd gotten it from instead. Okay, so maybe I was waffling. I owed Paul a thank you at the very least. Common courtesy and all that. I just wasn't sure whether to write it or phone. Written thank you's were always nice, but it was equally nice to have someone express their appreciation verbally.

Yeah. Yeah. Waffle. Waffle.

I made myself a salad for dinner, not in the mood to fuss with Mark out of town. It seemed so quiet without him, despite the fact that this wasn't an uncommon occurrence. And the smell of the roses... The color of roses always had a special meaning. Wondering what orange ones represented, I sat down at my desk and clicked on the computer. A quick search and I had my answer: orange ones expressed desire and a wish to get to know someone better -- and look at this! Thornless ones represent love at first sight.

Agh! Just old wives tales. A rose is a rose is a rose. Can mean anything you want them to. Besides, who said Paul chose this color for any other reason besides looks?

Pulling the card from my pocket again, I glanced at the clock on my monitor. 6:30. Paul would most certainly have left the office by now and a young guy like him would probably be out somewhere with his friends or on a date. I'd write the thank you instead. Waffle. Besides, Mark should be calling soon. Waffle. Waffle.

Checking out a couple more sites to assure myself that the meanings would vary depending on the webmaster's source, I found that basically they did not. Putting that down to there being limited references available, I stuck the card in the drawer of my desk and shut my computer down.

Desire. I could still remember the feel of Paul's hands on me when we danced, the tingle of his breath against my ear when he pulled me closer, the hardness... Stop this You're a married woman, for Pete's sake. A happily married woman! Uh huh. Then why do you get so turned on by the roleplaying bit?

Because it's Mark, dammit!

I banged the desk half-heartedly and went to turn on the television. More waffling. I hoped Mark would call soon... I could use a bit of telephone play, I was suddenly horny as all get out. Waffle, deny, waffle.

What in the world had I gotten myself into?

 

[Gareman]

The day moves quickly. A quick trip to the hotel to freshen up before meeting our district sales manager for an update on the contract negotiations.

Luckily...or unluckily I have very little time to think about Cara or the strange fantasies that have started to dominate our sex lives. Although I must admit to a few stray thoughts in moments of boredom or inactivity.

We work until about 7:00PM which would be 10:00PM back home and I find myself relieved when I finally reach the hotel again. Rushing up to my room, I strip down to my boxers and throw myself onto the bed. Free from the constraints of work, I'm able to close my eyes and allow my thoughts to drift to Cara, my sexy wife who seems to be enjoying the role-play as much as I.
Our latest session leaving a lasting impression.


Entering the house, Cara is working in the kitchen. I sneak up on her, wrapping my arms around her...kissing her neck softly. Her reaction shocks and excites me.

"Paul...what are you doing here," she plays, pretending to be surprised and nervous. "I think you should leave."

At first I can't react. Her suggestion is so out of character it makes me freeze. But I quickly regain myself and begin playing along.

"I can't help myself Mrs. Chandler," I say, allowing my hands to begin kneading her soft breasts. "I can't get you out of my mind."



I open my eyes and pull myself out of the fantasy. Cara had been so good...so believable that I had a difficult time controlling myself. She had made me work so hard...the seduction had been difficult as she openly stated how wrong it would be to cheat on "her husband" but then... the lovemaking was wonderful...passionate...animalistic.

Picking up the phone, I dial our number and wait....

Ring....

Ring...

Ring...

"Hello?" her familiar voice sounds so sexy to me. I slide a hand into my boxers and begin to imagine her...naked...before Paul.

"Hello Mrs. Chandler," I begin, my heart pounding heavily in my chest. "I understand that Mr. Chandler is out of town...is that true?"

There's a long pause and for a moment I'm afraid she might have hung up on me. But then she speaks...

"Paul...is that you?" she says softly, her voice uncertain. "Yeah...Mark's away...but how did you..."

I interrupt, taking control as I'm sure Paul would.

"I have a vested interest in knowing," I continue, my hand slowly working along the shaft of my hard penis. "He's a very lucky man, having a sexy woman like you for a wife."

I hear her trying to find just the right words...the soft squeaking of our bedsprings tipping off her location...(how long have we been putting off buying a new mattress?).

I jump in again before she has time to react.

"I'd like to find out just once exactly how lucky he really is..."

I'm sure that Cara would hang up if it wasn't me playing. The last comment would surely spell trouble and she would not allow anyone to speak like that to her. But for me she would do anything (or would she?).

She again pauses long enough for me to speak...

"And from your reaction at the wedding...I believe you might be ready to give me that chance."

 

[Maid of Marvels]

The sound of the phone ringing startled me, and it took me a few rings to find the mobile. I really hoped it was Mark. Gods, how I needed him. "Hello?"

"Hello, Mrs. Chandler. I understand that Mr. Chandler is out of town... Is that true?"

My heart caught in my throat. Paul? How did he... I replied hesitantly, not sure if my mind was playing tricks. But I couldn't exactly say: "Mark, my husband of almost twenty five years, is that you?" What the hell was going on? I'd been so lost in my own thoughts that I hadn't even recognized Mark's voice at first. In a way I was relieved, in another...

He stayed in character as we spoke, and I found myself moving toward the bedroom to get comfortable. Then another surprise. " ...And from your reaction at the wedding, I believe you might be ready to give me that chance." What did Mark know about my reaction to Paul at the wedding? It was after the reception that this whole role playing thing had started, wasn't it? Had he really noticed?

"Just a sec, love, while I get comfortable" I purred into the phone, wondering if he could hear my need in the tone of my voice.

I fluffed up the pillows on the bed and pulled back the covers before climbing in. I'd showered earlier, so all I had on was a nightie. Not even panties. As I settled back, I raised my legs and let them fall open.

I could feel my clit throbbing in anticipation of my touch, and I cradled the phone between my ear and my shoulder to free both of my hands for play. "There. All better now" I murmured.

"Mmm... " he replied, his voice husky with desire. "What are you wearing, Mrs. Chandler?"

"My pink shortie. The one with the spaghetti straps and the low... " I could almost see him nod in acknowledgment. It was one of his favorites. Mark's, I mean. And, personally, I loved the way he took it off me.

"No panties?"

"No."

"Are you as wet for me as you were at the wedding? Touch your pussy and tell me if you are."

Mesmerized by his words and the memory of almost having orgasmed from a mere dance, I let my hands slip down between my legs. At first I just combed my fingers through the tight nest of curls, my clit already peeking out as if to ask what was taking me so long. A long, low moan escaped my lips as I slipped a finger into my slit, feeling my slick wetness.

"I'm... soaking" I whispered. "Are you as hard as you were when we danced? Are you touching your cock now... Paul?"

I spread myself open with my left hand while I waited for his answer, the fingers of my right already beginning their slow, sultry dance over my clit and through the hot, wet heat of my ravenous cunt.