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From: "First Name Last Name" <marchase@my-deja.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Beamer vs SUV 1/2
Date: Sat, 23 Dec 2000 00:10:01 -0500
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"I want a 5 series Beamer."

   "Nope, I want a manly SUV."

   We were going to replace a car, and it was our usual half serious half
fun argument.

   "Oh, that's sexy!"

   "For heaven's sake, that's all you think about," I told him,
straightening up.

   It was breakfast time on Saturday, we were in our TV room watching the
news, and I had just bent down to put Bill's toast on the coffee table.  My
new pull-over robe had a bit of a scoop neckline, and I knew he could see
at least a lot of cleavage when it sagged as I bent over.

   "I could see your breasts, both of them, when you did that, right down
to the nipples.  Do it again, Roberta, please, please!"

   My husband acts like a teenager sometimes, but he's a lot of fun.  So I
did what he wanted.  I stood in front of him, and bent over, adjusting his
plate, while he gawked at my chest.  It was silly!

   "Oh, that's great -- look!"

   He pulled open his robe, and extending from his pajamas was "Little
Willy", turning into "Billy the Club."

   This man acts like a kid!  I guess that's good, even if we've been
married for 15 years.

   "Put Billy the Club away, Bill.  You already used it this morning, and
if I know you he'll get used tonight, too."

   He did some shifting and adjusting, and "Billy the Club" was hidden
again.

   "I think it was really sexy when you did that."

   "I could tell.  It's so damned easy to get you excited, Bill.  I think
you never grew out of being a teenager."

   "Maybe.  I think you're sexy, too, and you could turn anyone on."

   "Yeah, sure.  I'm thirty eight.  Those days are gone.  I'm glad it works
for you, though."

   "Oh, it would work on anyone."

   He was quiet a minute.  "I got an idea.  Come here."

   He picked up the newspaper, folded it, and took it and me by the hand to
our kitchen door.

   "Stay here," he commanded, positioning me just inside the door, then
stepped outside, put the newspaper between the inner and storm door, and
closed it, too.

   "Pretend I'm Bob." Bob's our neighbor.  "Pretend I'm bringing over
tomorrow's bagels." Bob would buy bagels every Sunday and bring over a
couple for us.  He's a good neighbor.

   "OK.  What do you want me to do?"

   "When he brings over the bagels, you come and get them, and when you
open the door bend down and pick up the paper.  Let him get a look at The
Girls (we have names for every body part, I guess.) Give him a treat!"

   "You're nuts!"

   "Come on, practice.  I'm Bob."

   He rang the bell, leering at me.

   I played along: "Oh, hi, Bob".  I opened the inner door, and unlatched
the outer one.  As soon as Bill started to open it I bent over.  "Oh, look,
here.  Here's the paper".  I rounded my shoulders, making the robe sag even
more.  "Are you looking here, Bob?" I asked, looking up at my husband as he
stared at me, peeking at what he could look at whenever he wanted.

   "That's incredible, Roberta!  Bob'll love it when you do that."

   Bill came inside as I registered what he said.

   "Bob'll love it?  What makes you think I'm going to do it for him?"

   "Come on, Roberta, you can't fool me.  Your nipples were telling me
things your voice wasn't."

   "That's 'cause it's cold," I claimed.

   "I'm not buying that.  You were turned on.  So's Little Willy, but he's
The Club now.  And Bob will be, too.  Come on, let's practice again."

   He pulled me, not that I wasn't willing, to the door again.

   "Oh, look here, the paper," I said at the right time, and when I looked
up I was staring at Billy the Club!  Bill had opened his robe.

   "It's not polite to point, Bill"

   "Come with me, woman.  I've got a fire you've got to put out."

   I followed him up to the bedroom, stumbling a bit over his robe and pj's
as he stripped them of en route.  Well, to be honest about it, my robe
contributed to the mess, too.

   I think what happened in the kitchen and at the kitchen door was
foreplay, because there sure wasn't any when we were in the bed.  Bill was
a wild man - a fast wild man.  He erupted, more nosily than usual, in a lot
less time than usual.  Especially since we had done the same thing only an
hour or two earlier.

   I guess I should tell you he got me hot quickly, too.  He didn't come
alone.

   Afterwards, wrapped in each other's arms, he whispered "You are going
to, aren't you?"

   We don't play communication games, Bill and I.  I knew what he was
talking about.

   "That's a turn on for you, huh?"

   "Yeah.  What about you?  Do you think you'd like Bob to see 'The Girls'
like that?"

   "Oh, he's a man, I'm sure he'd sneak a peak, Bill."

   "What about you.  Want him to see you?  Do you think your nipples will
be like they are now?"

   They were erect.

   "Maybe.  Probably, if it was something I planned, and not an accident."

   "Then do it, OK?"

   I thought about it for a minute.  "OK, I will."

   "Tomorrow?  Tomorrow when he brings over the bagels, OK?  Please?"

   "OK, tomorrow."

   We did our usual Saturday things, except that Bill was ready to take me
to bed hours earlier than usual.

   Not that we went to sleep until the usual time.

   Morning came.

   "Ready?"

   "Bill, I'm not sure I want to do that."

   "Oh, come on, Give Bob a treat.  I want to see the expression on his
face.  And on yours."

   "You're nuts, How could you see?"

   Our house is built so that you could see out the kitchen door from our
TV room.

   "I'm gonna stay in the tv room with the door almost shut, so Bob won't
be intimidated because he could see me.  I want him to get an eyeful."

   "Weird.  One hundred percent weird, Bill.  But I'll do it anyway."

   "Come one.  I want you to practice!"

   I went to the door, Bill was outside, waiting.

   I bent over - "Oh look, Bob, the paper."

   The club was pointing at me again.  "Oh yeah, that's great."

   He dropped a few quarters on the door sill.  "Use those -- it'll take
longer to pick up."

   A few minutes later Bill said "Hey, it's showtime.  Here come the
bagels."

   He went to the TV room, pulling the door almost shut behind him.

   Our doorbell sounded.

   I took a deep breath -- after all, this was new to me -- and opened the
inner door.

   "Hi, Bob!"

   I unlatched the storm door, then as Bob opened the storm door, bent from
the waist to pick up the coins Bill put there.  "Look!  We must have
dropped some money."

   It took me a few seconds to pick up the lousy two quarters, and I could
feel my robe fall away from my front as I bent over.  I KNEW I was on
display!.

   Coins in hand, I looked up to see Bob staring at me, then averting his
eyes.  "I'd have gotten those for you, Roberta," he said, his cheeks just a
little redder than normal, "but I didn't see them."

   Didn't see them?  He saw plenty.  "No problem, Bob.  They were hard to
notice.  Thanks for bringing over the bagels."

   He handed the bag to me, said "Say hello to Bill for me," and turned
away quickly.  Not so quickly though that I couldn't see his own slacks
weren't doing a good job of concealing a lump that had to be an erection.

   "'Didn't see them,' he said!  I thought his eyes would jump out of his
head!" Bill said, standing behind me, as I watched Bob walk away.  Bill's
hands circled around me until they were cupping my breasts.

   "He saw plenty, didn't he?  I can feel your nipples poking at the robe.
It turned you on, too, didn't it?"

   I turned to my husband.

   "Yes, he saw plenty.  it did turn me on.  It was a wicked thing to do to
him, but I liked it.  Uh, I don't want my bagel right now, I want The Club
for breakfast."

   Billy the Club was ready.  It took no time at all for it to be in its
favorite place.

   Bill was pumping away -- well, I was pumping, too -- grunting,
muttering, getting Little William bigger.

   "I loved seeing the expression on his face when he looked down your
robe."

   "I bet it was something to see," I said, feeling myself about to lose
control.  "He looked embarrassed when I looked up and caught him staring."
My orgasm was right there, ready to erupt.  All it would take is another
couple of Billy Club strokes, or nearly anything else, to take me over the
edge. . .

   "I liked that you could turn on another guy like that.  I'd like to
figure something else to do, maybe show him more than your tits."

   And that did it.

   The big 'O', a 10 on the Richter Scale.

   As soon as we both came down to earth, I reminded Bill of what he said.
"I don't want to something like that again.  I'd look stupid, bending down
in front of him like that in the doorway, Bill.  It was fun, maybe I'll do
it to someone else, but that way won't work with Bob again.  I'd feel
dumb."

   He was still breathing heavily.

   "I have an idea."

   "Like what?"

   Well, you could wear your other robe, and let it slip open."

   "That's really a reach," I told him, "and that might be hard to pull off
in the doorway."

   "Well, what would you do?  I want you to do something, the little bit
you've done has made Billy the Club hard for me to control."

   "Hard, huh?" I checked.  "Not as hard as he was a little while ago,
William.  He feels soft to me."

   "Think of some way to put on a show and he'll be hard again, I promise."

   That was an interesting challenge.

   I thought about it for a bit, then got out of bed.

   I have a white cotton summer dress that's really pretty shear.  I went
to the closet, and pulled it on - just it, over just me.

   "Bill, pull the drapes closed, get the room dark, OK?"

   "Sure."

   He did all that, I heard him get back into bed.  "All ready, now what?"

   I was sure the light in the closet would back light me dramatically.

   "How about if I greeted him like this?"

   I stepped in the doorway, knowing the outline of my legs would be
showing through the dress.

   Bill stared at me, his mouth hanging open.  "Beautiful!  Oh my God, that
is so sexy!  It's like you're almost nude, but not nude, innocent, but not.
God.  Come here!  Come here, right now!

   In just a moment I was straddling him, my dress draped over both our
pelvises, while Billy the Club pushed deep into me.

   "That is incredible!" he grunted, holding me by the hips, grinding into
me, until he came -- he came!  -- again.

   "Got to you, didn't I?" I asked, after the earth, or at least the bed,
stopped moving.

   "Oh yeah, you did."

   He took a deep breath.

   "I want you to wear that dress that way for Bob."

   "Hey, I was teasing you -- you're my husband, I can do that.  Bob would
get the wrong idea if I did that to him."

   "What wrong idea -- that he'd want to fuck you?"

   "Yeah, that wrong idea."

   "What's wrong with him wanting to fuck you?  He's normal and healthy,
you're sexy as hell.  Any man, especially if he saw you like this, would
want to."

   "That's what's wrong with it."

   "What?"

   "That I'd be teasing them, that wouldn't be fair."

   My husband was silent for a few minutes.

   "Uh. . ."

   "Uh what?"

   "Uh, maybe you could make it fair."

   "Make it fair?  How?"

   "Well, maybe if he came on to you, you'd let him."

   "Let him come on to me?  Get serious."

   "I am serious.  Let him come on to you.  If it looked like fun, let him
really come on to you.  "

   "That would just not be fair, to tease him that much. . .uh, wait.  Come
on to me?  Wanna spell that?  Is it sea oh em ee, or is it three letters
with a you in the middle?"

   "I'm thinking that three lettered one.  Tease him, then let him cum on
to you."

   "Hey, flashing him once was fun, I liked doing that, but what you're
talking about is something else.  What's gotten into you?"

   He took my hand, and guided it to his cock, still soft, still wet, but
moving with his pulse, getting harder.

   "It's what will get into you, if you do it.  Mine, and his.  I think I'd
like that." His penis grew a little bigger in my hand.  "I think I'd like
that a lot."

   By then he had unbuttoned my dress and was nuzzling my breasts - "Don't
you think you might like it too, to feel a different mouth do this. . ." -

   he demonstrated what a mouth could do, to my breast, to my belly -

   "and feel a different cock. . ." -

   my hand was still on his cock, now transformed into the Club -

   "feel a different cock here. . ."

   and he mounted me.

   He was Hot!  OK, so was I.

   Afterwards: "Did you like that?"

   I was honest with him.  "You're quite a lover, lover.  You can still get
me going after all of these years.  That sexy trash talking really worked."

   "Well, you're a sexy woman, and that dress with no slip --- oh man, it
works."

   Even though it was only about noon, we fell asleep again, satiated with
sex, wrapped in each other's arms.

   I awoke to find Bill on his side, his head supported by his hand,
looking at me.

   "Hi, lover."

   "Hi, Bill.  That was quite a love making session, huh?"

   "Yeah, it was.  I've been thinking, honey, about what I was talking
about."

   "That trash talk?"

   "Yeah, that.  Honey, I'd like you to try it."

   "Hey, wait.  Asking me to be a flasher is one thing.  That's almost
innocent.  That other thing is called being a hot wife.  That's different,
big time different." I looked at him.  "Are you getting horny again?"

   "Yeah, I am.  I was thinking about how sexy you are, about how sexy it
was to see you flash Bob, and how absolutely sexy it would be for him to
see you in that dress like that, and to actually touch you, and have sex
with you.  I'd like that to happen, and to hear all about it.  I'd like you
to experience it.  If you think that's being a hot wife, that's OK with
me."

   Most times when we play around there's a lot of what you might call
banter.  This wasn't.  He was serious!

   "Sex with anyone else but you?  I had sex with other guys before we got
serious, but not now.  Are you nuts?"

   "Not nuts.  Just turned on.  What about you?  You can't tell me you
haven't looked at a guy one time or another and wondered what it would be
like if you were single and had a fling with him.  I've sure seen women
that made me think about that.  But this idea really got me excited.  Even
more than thinking about another woman.  I think you're very sexy, and I
love looking at you when we have sex, and I think I'd like to see another
guy prove I'm right, that you're the sexiest thing around."

   "You're crazy." It was almost a reflexive reaction.  "I couldn't do
something like that, especially not to Bob." The words were out of my mouth
when I realized exactly what I said: and it was true.  Not Bob.  Not my
neighbor.  But I didn't say not anyone, not ever.  Just, "not Bob."

   Bill heard the exclusion and grasped the implication.  He smiled -- or
was it a leer?.  "That's OK, not Bob.  How about some guy if Bob's the
problem.  Some other guy is OK with me so long as you act sexy and then
tell me about it."

   "I don't think I could do that, honey, have sex with another guy.  It's
fun to talk about and all that, but in real life, I don't think so."

   "What's the big deal?  You had lovers before.  This would be just for
fun, for both of us.  It's not a problem for me.  Hell, do it and our next
car will be the Beamer!"

   I was silent, thinking about what was being negotiated here.  Thinking
about what it might be like to have another man look at me the way my
husband does, the way my few other lovers from so long ago, long before I
knew Bill, did.

   After a minute, after feeling a chill run down my spine, after feeling
my own vagina become moist, I decided to not be conventional.  "Maybe,
Bill. Maybe some other time, if the conditions are right, just maybe.  I
don't want to talk about it now, but maybe."

   We made love, and got on with our day, Bill's suggestion and my response
left both of us thinking.

   About once a day for the next three weeks Bill would say "Loved that
dress, when will you wear it again?"



   ----------------------------------------------------------- --== Sent
via Deja.com ==- http://www.deja.com/ 

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