Dinner free porn video

It was a pretty normal Friday evening dinner, at least most of it. My mother-in-law was visiting and we wanted to take her out to a nice dinner. She likes Italian and so do my wife and I (especially lasagna), so we decided on Casa Mia in Kennewick.

The dinner was going exceptionally well; the food was great, the service wonderful, and the atmosphere is very classic Italian. The restaurant is even owned by an Italian couple, and they’d gone all out to make the restaurant ‘Italy’.

We were nearly ready to pay our bill and leave when Karen and her mom said they had to go to the bathroom (now you know my wife’s real, fake name). No big deal, happens every time we go out to eat. This time, though, things turned out differently. It seemed like they were gone forever, so I pulled out my cell phone and was perusing Lush, checking messages and found an interesting story to read off my reading queue from Simplicity, one of my favorite authors.

My phone has a pretty good-sized screen, an oversized Samsung S10 plus. I didn’t think a thing about it until I heard from right behind me, “Hi, may I ask what you’re reading? I love erotic stories.”

I must have nearly bumped my head on the ceiling from the jump. “Sorry, didn’t mean to surprise you,” she laughed. To say that she took me by surprise is like saying there are fish in the ocean.

I said ‘she’, and she was definitely a she. A very nice-looking she; brown hair down over her shoulders, beautiful face, gorgeous figure, probably early-twenties, at least ten or fifteen years younger than me.

How embarrassing! I hadn’t thought anyone could see my screen. She must have just been walking by and noticed it. “It’s just a little short story,” I told her, a little worried about my wife finding me talking to this gorgeous creature who seemed to be flirting with me. I’m bashful as hell, especially when it comes to pretty girls and, in spite of some of my stories, very uncomfortable around the opposite sex, especially pretty ones flirting with me.

“Would you mind if I took a little peek?” she asked, “I love to find new things.”

So I handed her my phone. I know, dumb, huh. But when her fingertips grazed mine, an electric charge went through my whole body and mind. Hell, she could have asked for all my credit cards right then and I’d have given them to her… along with my pins.

I was watching where my wife and her mom had gone. I didn’t know for sure what I was going to do when they reappeared. I didn’t want this lovely creature to go away.

The story I was reading was Simplicity’s, ‘Cruise’. A married woman on an ocean cruise was dancing with a man she’d just met; they walked under the stars and moon until he escorted her back to her cabin, undressed her and made love with her. Simplicity had filled in all the sexy details, like his slow, gradual seduction of her, but you get the idea.

It was hot as hell! Simplicity is one of my favorites for a good reason. My brief description doesn’t do the story any justice and the girl reading it seemed to be totally engrossed until some guy walked up, put his arm around her, and said, “Whatcha doin’, babe?”

Talk about a mood-killer! “Just finding a new place for stories that we’ll like,” she told him with a brief kiss on the lips.

She handed me back my phone, then asked, “What’s the site?”

I told her, “Lushstories.com, check out my profile, robertl,” knowing that I’d never hear from her. Girls like that weren’t going to be interested in someone like me. Besides, she knew I was married. At least I assumed she did. Best if I didn’t ever hear from her.

“Thank you, we’ll check it out,” and they walked out. That was the first I got a really nice look at ‘my’ girl’s bod. Damn! Really, really best if I never heard from her.

By then my cock was hard, but I’d lost interest in the story. Not even Simplicity’s story could compete with a girl like that.

It was still several more minutes before Karen and her mom showed back up. At least I’d dodged a bullet, trying to explain to Karen what a beautiful twenty-something was doing at my table with my cell phone in her hand. Karen knows nothing about my Lush account. One of those little secrets that seemed pretty innocuous, or had until right then. At this point, I didn’t want to tell her, either. Especially after that Kodiak, Alaska story being so close to what had almost happened.

I was both relieved and disappointed as the weekend went by. I checked my Lush account probably a dozen times both Saturday and Sunday, not to mention the half-dozen after we got home Friday. I kept telling myself that there was no way a beautiful girl like that would be contacting an old, middle-aged stranger like me. Thirty-seven wasn’t actually over the hill yet, but to a gorgeous, young girl like that…

I tapered off from checking Lush during the next week, to the point where I was only checking it once or twice a day like I normally do, just to see if there were any new stories I wanted to read, with the off chance of hearing from one of my friends. At least I told myself that was what I was doing. Almost convinced myself, too.

I didn’t even know the mystery girl’s name and my thoughts of her had dwindled to almost non-existent, maybe only a couple of dozen times an hour. I love my wife, but we’d been together a long time and I haven’t actually even thought about another girl, ever, and the feelings I was having were strange. And powerful. Realistically, I knew that it was a thousand times better to never hear from her. Yet, I couldn’t help but keep hoping. To be honest, I kind of forgot about the little fact that she had a boyfriend.

So, on Sunday afternoon, the following weekend, sitting in my little man-cave at my computer, when I saw that I had a message, I was almost afraid to check and see what it might be. I actually did close my browser, willing myself to not open the message. For about a minute, maybe half a minute, until I couldn’t stand it any longer. When I clicked on the message icon, my heart was pounding. Then when there was nothing in my inbox, but one friend request, I didn’t know what to think. Well, actually I did, I thought about what she looked like walking away from the table; those tight jeans, thin waist, full hips… argh! There wasn’t any way I wasn’t checking out that friend request.

I hadn’t ever heard of the person, but it was obviously a girl’s name (not going to tell you), with a short message, “Hi, LOVE your stories, love to chat sometime.” Then the topper, “Think you’re cute, too.”

Oh God, it was her, had to be! I clicked on the ‘view message’ and there wasn’t anything more, just that, as if that wasn’t enough. So I clicked on her name to look at her profile: Bronze member, twenty-four years old, female, name same as her avatar name, location – Washington, United States, date joined – six days ago. There were a few other things; favorite books, movies, etc, favorite author – robertl! God!

My fingers were shaking and my brain was in overdrive remembering our brief exchange… and that view! Now what? I knew damn good and well that I should just click on ‘No Thanks’ and delete, let her just fade into a pleasant temporary interlude memory. Yeah, right! That’s what I knew I should have done. What I did do, though, was click on ‘accept’ and replied with a short message, ‘Love to be your friend, this the girl from the restaurant?’

Then I sat there, just staring at the screen. Her profile page showed she was online. Would she reply? If my heart had been pounding before, it was nearly blowing a hole in my chest by then. Karen was in the living room watching a Hallmark movie so I was alone in my misery. That's the kind of girl Karen was - a Hallmark movie girl.

I stared… and stared… and stared. Until a little black box popped up in the upper right-hand corner of my screen. ‘You have been poked.’

My fingers were shaking and I had to delete my reply twice because it didn’t make any sense and was unreadable. I finally typed out a really sexy, intellectual message and hit send, ‘Hi, you their?’ At least it was spelled right. No it wasn't;- 'there', not 'their! Dammit. Now she'll think I'm a bloomin' idiot.

Then I started staring again, this time just a few seconds, ‘Love your stories, your characters seem so real. Especially like Adriana. And Tanner. Yum.’ So she’d started with my Reunion series.

We chatted back and forth the next ten minutes or so about different things, the Reunion story; she said she loved ‘The Wedding Meadow’ and wanted to know if those places were real, which I assured her they were. She mentioned how funny it was how I jumped when she first asked me what I was reading. By then my imagination was running way overboard wondering if I’d ever actually see her again. The boyfriend totally disappeared from my mind. So did Karen, to be honest.

My reverie was interrupted when said Karen poked her head in my door, startling me, and asked if I’d run to the store for some eggs so she could make cookies. That brought me back to real life and a guilty conscience that I’d been drooling over this still nameless girl, and she was so young, just a kid, for God’s sake!

‘Gotta go, get eggs,’ I messaged her. Lame! Then I clicked on ESPN’s website just in case Karen might peek at my monitor while I was gone. I was sure that guilt was written all over my face.

I got up and had to adjust myself to hide my erection. If my face was showing guilt, Karen didn’t seem to notice, she didn’t even look twice; just asked for the eggs and popped back out.

“Anything else?” I asked her, before closing the front door behind me.

She hesitated just a minute, “Think we’re low on oil, and maybe some walnuts, too.”

Besides her eggs and stuff, I picked up some malted milk balls and Werther’s Originals, the caramel-vanilla ones, Karen’s two favorite candies, just to appease my conscience a little. Besides, I knew she’d be appreciative and the way I was feeling, I hoped that maybe that night…

I don’t know if the candy helped or not, but we had a really nice first hour in bed. Maybe ‘nice’ isn’t exactly the right word, but you get the idea. We both enjoyed bedtime… a lot!

It was Wednesday before I had a chance to message my new friend again. She’d sent me a ‘poke’ earlier, but I hadn’t been online. Wednesday night is Karen’s bunco night with several of her friends, so I was home alone.

The first thing I asked her was her real name. ‘Paulina, but my friends call me Pauli.’

Then the thing that had been bugging me, not that it should have since I’m married and anything more than just conversation would be totally off-limits, ‘You have a boyfriend?’

‘Mmhmm, I do, he’s a really good guy,’ and then just a couple seconds later, another black box popped up, ‘but he’s not the jealous type – if you know what I mean.’

I stared at that. What the hell did that mean? No, I didn’t know what she meant. Was she implying what my imagination was thinking she might be? Shit, this was getting out of hand! I needed to stop this – NOW!

‘Don’t know what you mean – elaborate?’ I asked. Maybe just a tiny bit more before I tell her I can’t do this.

‘He’s seen guys dance with me. Liked it.’

I stared at that. Wide-eyed! ‘Kissing me, too. I like to kiss. Do you?’

Holy…! I’ve got to tell her I have to go. I can’t do this anymore! ‘I do. But only ever kissed my wife.’

‘Too bad!’

My cock was raging. I remembered the electric shock that had gone through my body when her fingertips touched me briefly. What the hell would it be like to kiss a girl like that?

I honestly couldn’t do this any longer. ‘Wife’s getting home. Have to go,’ I lied.

After making love that night, Karen seemed quite pleased, “Mmm, what’s gotten into my husband? I like it!” Maybe 'making love' wasn't the exact right terminology for what we'd just done. It had most definitely NOT been our 'normal'.

I opened my mouth to tell her about the girl at the restaurant. The words almost came tumbling out before my mouth closed again. The likely repercussions of Karen finding out about my Lush account were just too much. I couldn’t do it, those words reverberating through my brain, ‘I like to kiss.’ I was hard again. I couldn’t even remember the last time that’d happened so soon after making love with Karen. Especially, after the kind of sex we’d just had.

Thursday evening, I was on my couch in the living room, Karen in her chair, and we were watching Blue Bloods on our DVR. At the same time, I had my laptop open, not paying a lot of attention to it when a little message popped up in the bottom corner, ‘You have received a private message on Lush’.

Erin and Anthony on Blue Bloods were having a serious argument over a man Erin had prosecuted for a murder years earlier and now, new evidence had come up that might show he hadn’t done it. Erin was still totally convinced he was guilty, but Anthony thought there could be something to it and wanted to reopen the investigation. It involved what could be a bad cop.

I really didn’t want to take my attention away from the story, but that message was calling, simply impossible to ignore. Two weeks earlier, I wouldn’t have any problem ignoring it, but not now.

So I clicked on it, trying to pay attention to Erin and Anthony at the same time. I rapidly lost interest in Blue Bloods when I read the message, ‘Connor and I would love to meet with you, talk about one of your stories.’

My heart rate doubled and I instantly closed it. I couldn’t meet with her, no way. I assumed that Connor was the boyfriend I saw in the restaurant. But the damage was done, I have no idea what happened on Blue Bloods after that. My heart was beating out of my chest, remembering that electric shock when her fingertips touched mine; that beautiful face; that view of her walking away; and then those words ‘I like to kiss.’

We watched ‘The Rookie’ right after Blue Bloods, but I didn’t hear a word that was said. I could watch that episode again and not even know I’d already watched it once. After The Rookie, Karen said she was going to bed. I told her I’d be there in a bit.

I opened that message and read it again. They wanted to meet with me; no, I couldn’t do it. But, what would it hurt just to talk about a story? I love talking about them with people. So this would be in person, not through the anonymity of the internet, would that be so bad? What could possibly go wrong?

I replied to her message, in the online chatbox, since her profile showed she was online, ‘Would love to meet you. Not sure when, though. Remember, I’m married.’

Her reply, ‘Bring your wife. Lunch, tomorrow noon?’

Bring my wife? No, no way I could do that. But I don’t see why I couldn’t meet her at noon. Karen works, I work, we have our lunch hours. And I worked for myself, so my lunchtime was up to me. Yeah, I know, I was trying to justify myself, but I couldn’t ‘not’ meet with her.

‘Where?’ I messaged. We agreed on The Olive Garden at twelve. Like I’d thought earlier; middle of the day, with her boyfriend, Olive Garden, what could possibly go wrong?

Then I went to bed, daydreaming about the next day. Karen was in bed wearing one of her short, sexy negligees. “I thought maybe we could take up where we left off last night.”

And we did, that electric charge from those fingertips deeply embedded in my mind.

My hands were damp with sweat when I parked in the Olive Garden parking lot. This was something I never would have imagined myself doing. When I started writing in 2014, I assumed they’d always be anonymous. Now, here I was, meeting a girl and her boyfriend, in person, to talk about one of those stories. Other than that, I had no clue what they might be wanting to talk about. I’d never imagined myself meeting some pretty girl, unknown to Karen, either. That was the big one.

I was about ten minutes early and asked for a table for three, then waited, my nerves going somewhere through the roof. I wondered if she was really as pretty as I remembered or if that had just been the excitement of the moment clouding my judgment. I know I’ve written about things somewhat similar to this, but this was real, not just part of a story, words on the computer. It seemed a lot more ominous than it had when we were arranging it the night before. But still, what could possibly go wrong? Famous last words!

Then I saw the host bringing a couple toward my table. It was them. She had on a short leather skirt, blouse with several buttons undone and as they got closer, I could make out the color of her bra underneath the blouse. Absolutely gorgeous. As she sat, it was hard to not notice her red lips, especially remembering that comment, ‘I like to kiss.’ No, it hadn’t just been excitement clouding my judgment! If anything, she was even prettier.

She introduced her boyfriend, Connor. We shook hands, “Robert, or Bob, either one,” I said.

Pauli sat across the table from me. God, she was everything I remembered from that initial brief exchange and more. When she smiled at me, I nearly melted into a puddle of muck on the floor. All I could think of was, ‘My boyfriend isn’t the jealous type.’ Was this actually happening?

We had a few minutes of small talk, what we did; she’d gone with Connor the last three months; I told them that I was an independent building codes consultant, then explained what that meant, not exactly glorious. We ordered food and it was delivered a few minutes later.

“What we really wanted to talk about was your reunion story,” that sexy voice said. I thought she had a little bit of a British accent, like my Brit Lush friend, Amber. She’d sent me a few videos and the sexy accent was similar.

Everything about Pauli was screaming sexy. I’d just watched a humorous skit on YouTube a month or so ago, a nerdy guy confidently talking to a pretty girl, then when she left, he turned into a quivering mass on the floor. That was me, the quivering mass.

“That strip poker scene is the hottest thing I’ve ever read,” she said, stroking my ego about a mile high. She hesitated, glanced over at her boyfriend, then went on, “We want to do it… for real. And we want you there…”

My eyes got wide, I’m not sure what might have happened to the color of my face, probably turned totally white, “You... you what?”

This time she was blunt, “… want you to be in the strip poker game with us…”

“I…I…I… I’m married!” was the only thing I could think to blurt out.

“Bring her, it’d be fun. Bet she’d like it too.” Yeah, my 'Hallmark movie' wife. Not a chance in hell!

I looked at Connor, hoping to get some input from him, not sure what it might be, but… something!

He grinned, “You really do want to see this girl naked!” Oh shit!

“And remember what I said, I like to kiss… and maybe even more…” that smile again! Oh God! And that perfume!

“I… I’ve… we’ve never done anything like that. It’s just a silly story.”

“Neither have either of us, that’s what would make it so much fun,” she said.

“But, I’m so much older… thirty-seven…”

That was when I felt her foot rubbing up my leg, “I just call it experienced,” that foot moving up my thigh, “and besides, you’re cute. I like you.”

When I felt her toes on my cock I groaned. How the hell did I get myself into this? And how do I get out? But shit, I didn’t want out. Do you know how bad I wanted to do what they were talking about? Strip poker with this goddess? That’s the stuff that guys like me don’t even dream about. Shit! And she thinks I’m cute. I’ve never thought I was bad-looking, not ugly or anything, but nothing special. But cute? No one, not even Karen has ever used the word ‘cute’ in reference to me. Hell, is it even a compliment for a guy? Puppies, kittens, and babies are ‘cute’.

But I couldn’t, no way. That was too far, waayyy too far! My face must have been totally white.

“I…I don’t see how I can. Can I think about it… get back to you?” God, that foot… that accent and that smile!

She picked up a napkin and wrote on it, stuffing it in my shirt pocket, then got up. We’d finished dinner, I’d only eaten about half what I ordered. No way could I eat anything more.

“We’re getting the bill,” Connor said. Hell, I’d even forgotten there was a bill to pay.

We walked outside to the sidewalk, stopped to say goodbye, and Pauli kissed me on the cheek. I closed my eyes for just a second, God, that electric feeling from her fingertips was times ten; no, a thousand! I instinctively turned my head in her direction and her kiss was on my lips, those soft lips opening, her tongue pressing against my lips. I opened my lips just slightly and she pulled away, leaving me totally breathless as they both turned and left.

I pulled the napkin out of my pocket and looked at it; a phone number, three hearts with arrows drawn through them, and the words, ‘we’ll wait.’

No, no way! There wasn’t any possibility that I could get away from home for something like that. Would I like to take Karen to a strip poker game? Hell yes! But that sure as hell wasn’t going to happen. How the hell would I explain that to her? ‘Sweetheart, I met this girl and she thinks I’m cute and wants to play strip poker with me.” Yeah, right!  could see divorce court in our future. To put it bluntly, I was scared as shit; God, I wanted to do it!

I went back inside, to the bathroom and washed the lipstick off my cheek and lips. I didn’t smell her perfume on myself and could only hope that there wasn’t any residue. How the hell would I explain that to Karen?

I went back to work but it was a waste of time. My whole life had been thrown in upheaval, there hadn’t ever been anything that I wanted more. I kept closing my eyes and seeing that girl, smelling her perfume, using my imagination, that kiss, torturing myself. I put the phone number in my phone, not that I ever expected to call it.

By that evening when I went home, I’d calmed down, at least a little. I laughed a little at myself, thinking ‘what could possibly go wrong?’ What, indeed!

I asked Karen if she’d like to go out to dinner, somewhere nice. She smiled and said she’d love it. “Dress up a little?” she asked.

“I’d like that. I’ll wear a jacket, you wear a nice dress, we’ll have fun.”

“Where’d you like to go?” I asked her.

She smiled and said, “You asked me out, surprise me.”

One’s conscience can be a powerful thing.

This was our first ‘date’ for a long time. There’s a place we’d heard about, ‘The River Lounge’. Seafood, entertainment, dance floor, overlooking the Columbia River. A perfect place to take your wife when you’re feeling guilty. I checked my watch, called them and confirmed a reservation for two in an hour-and-a-half.

I showered, shaved, brushed my teeth and found my cleanest dirty shirt. I smiled at my humor, a Johnny Cash song.

I have a tan sports jacket that I’ve only worn a few times. This seemed like a good time. I even put on a striped tie that Karen bought me a couple of years ago for a friend’s wedding. This will be… think, think, think… twice that I’ve worn it.

A little while after I was ready, my wife came down the stairs… wearing a shimmery, silver metallic dress about four-inches above her knees, a deep ‘V’ in front, almost showing her bra; shimmery nylons, silver heels, red lipstick, and her brown hair in a beautiful, glamorous bun, showing off her long, sexy neck. A little like Audrey Hepburn. My eyes nearly popped out. I can’t even remember the last time I’ve seen my Karen looking like this.

“You’re… you’re beautiful!” I stammered.

“Glad you managed to notice,” her eyes told me she was only kidding. “Saw this in the store and fell in love with it. Was just waiting for someplace to wear it.” Then she looked me up and down, “Not so bad yourself.”

So we drove to the River Lounge. I opened my wife’s door and we made our grand entrance. We were about fifteen minutes early so we had to wait in the lobby a few minutes. I didn’t mind, it gave me a chance to just sit and admire my wife.

We had a fabulous evening; salmon dinner, white burgundy wine, then an hour of dancing and listening to the deejay. By the time we left, I wasn’t even thinking about Pauli and Connor.

Not until on the way home, that is, when Karen just happened to remember, “Oh, hon, I almost forgot to tell you, Mom called today. She was wondering if we could come down next weekend, she wants to go shopping in the Woodburn Outlet and wondered if I’d like to go with her.”

Shopping! Not exactly on the top of my to-do list. She went on, “I know what you think about shopping, so if you wanted, I could just go and you could stay home and do whatever. I’d prob’ly leave Saturday morning and come home Sunday.”

What! Stay home and do… whatever? I let that word bounce around in my brain and the name ‘Pauli’ came roaring back. Shit, she’d just obliterated my excuse!

“Can I think about it? Not sure what I might want to do,” I told her. But my heart rate had just doubled, tripled.

That night was the third night in a row that Karen and I made love. If nothing else, unbeknown to Karen, Pauli had damn well energized our love life.

Pretty much all day Saturday, there was one thing on my mind. What the hell do I do? Surely, I’m not thinking about actually doing this. Yeah, actually, I was. I had to talk myself out of it, but every time I tried, that kiss entered my mind again.

That night I logged onto my Lush account. There was a private message, ‘Hope you can do it.’ It was accompanied with a picture file. I clicked on it; ah shit! Pauli in a skimpy little bikini, from her neck down. I blew it up to fill my monitor. Damn, the girl has a body!

I looked at that picture and couldn’t help myself. With shaking fingers, I typed a reply, ‘Next Saturday night?’ and scrolled to the ‘send’. My finger hovered over the return key for at least a minute before I… deleted it. I couldn’t do it.

But it haunted me; the picture, the kiss, the… everything! And Karen would never know. She’ll be in Portland with her mom. I didn’t sleep that night, thinking about the ‘what if’.

Mornings are always clearer thinking times. Just not THIS particular morning. I probably hadn’t slept over an hour or so but was up early. I powered up the computer in my man-cave and opened that picture again. This time after I typed the message, I did hit the ‘send’ button. It was done. I was going to meet Pauli and Connor next Saturday night for strip poker.

I thought that having made that decision would relieve my mind, but as soon as Karen poked her head in my man-cave and said breakfast was ready, my confidence had already disappeared and my conscience was flaring. Acting normal when I planned on cheating on my wife in a few days was, shall I say, ‘a little difficult’.

Later that afternoon, Pauli answered my message with her address and a time of 8 pm Saturday. That only served to raise my anxiety level another dozen steps or so.

That week was a nightmare. Every day that went by brought me closer. I desperately wanted to send Pauli a message that I wasn’t coming, but every time I tried, that picture was in the way, the view of that ass or my memory of that short kiss.

I was lucky I didn’t get fired off the project I was working on from being totally worthless, but nobody questioned my mood, which, in itself, kind of concerned me. Did they think zombie is normal?

Pauli sent me a couple more pictures on Lush. ‘Friends only’. And so far, I was her only friend; one of her in a tiny little pair of sheer panties, nothing else, from just below her nipples. The other, a blue mini-dress, the ‘V’ all the way down to her navel. She had to know what she was doing to me. Psychological warfare and I was so losing the battle.

But the guilt was awful. I was going to cheat on my wife, the woman I’d married thirteen years earlier. Karen was twenty-two, and I was twenty-four, home on leave from the Coast Guard. We met at our high school’s basketball game. She stepped up behind me and said, “Hi.” We married nine months later and have been together ever since, even including my stint in Kodiak, Alaska. I’d been with a couple of other girls, but I discovered that night that there was such a thing as love at first sight.

I’ve written lots of stories about wife-swapping and watching, but never in a million years would I do something like that. The stories are just fiction. I love my wife too much and we’re a hundred percent monogamous. At least we were until Pauli came into my life. Now, everything I’ve ever believed was turned topsy-turvy. I knew I had to do it but just didn’t have the strength to turn down what Pauli was offering. Not without my wife, especially, and she was going to Portland at the one time I needed her more than I ever had. I didn’t really expect anything except being there and a little messing around, but still, it was cheating.

Friday evening was hell. I knew Karen was leaving in the morning, and I had no idea what might happen when she came home. I knew she wouldn’t know, but could I keep the secret forever? I had with my Lush account and my stories, but that’s different, a lot different! But I also knew there was no way that I had the willpower to resist what awaited me Saturday night.

We went to bed and I lay there with my eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling. Karen wasn’t sleeping either, like she knew something was wrong. She rolled over away from me and put her hands underneath her face like she often does just before going to sleep.

“Hon,” I heard my voice say, “you can’t go tomorrow.”

She rolled back over toward me, rubbing her eyes, “What? What did you say, sweetheart?”

I had no idea what the hell I was doing. I looked straight at the ceiling and repeated myself, “You can’t go tomorrow.”

Now she was awake and scooted herself up on her elbow, “Why not? Mom’s expecting me.”

I continued to stare, “I can’t tell you, but please, you can’t go.” In retrospect, I guess I could have just gone with her, but my mind wasn’t working so well to think that logically.

Now she looked like she was concerned, “Sweet, what’s going on? Are you sick? I need to tell Mom why.”

The ceiling was staring back at me like it was going to devour me, “There’s, there’s a… girl… you just… can’t.”

Now she sat up, “A girl? What do you mean, there’s a girl?” She looked scared, “Have you done something?”

I shook my head, “No… yes… not really, not yet… but tomorrow…”

Her eyes were wide, “What’s tomorrow? What are you telling me?”

For the first time, I looked over at her, I didn’t know how to do this. “Can I… start at the beginning?”

“Oookay,” she scooted back to lean on the headboard, “start at the beginning.”

I climbed out of bed, got my laptop, scared shitless at what I was about to do. She watched me, almost holding her breath as I flipped up the screen, pressed my fingerprint on it, then opened Firefox. These were the seconds that I’d been agonizing over the last several years, revealing my Lush account to my wife. Showing her the stories she had no idea I’d been writing, scared what would happen if she ever found out.

I typed in ‘lu’ and the rest of the URL popped in and I clicked it to open. “This site… I found it a long time ago… a place I could post stories.”

“What are you talking about? What stories?”

I scrolled the little pointer to my avatar, a sexy girl in black lingerie – my vision of Adriana, then down to ‘My Stories’. My fingers were shaking and it was hard to manage on the laptop. There are over a hundred stories over the last four years. I scrolled down and clicked on ‘Ten Year College Reunion, Ch 1’. It opened and I said, “I wrote this.”

She read for a moment and asked, “You wrote all of those?”

I nodded, more scared than I have ever been in my life. “Yeah, I did.”

She read several minutes, then said, “This is good. I actually like it. But I never knew… why didn’t you tell me? And what does it have to do with tomorrow.”

That first chapter is pretty innocuous, just introducing the couple, hardly any sex. She didn’t seem mad about the Lush, though. That was encouraging, but to answer her question, I just told her, “Keep reading, three chapters.” I sure as hell wasn’t looking forward to showing her my profile and timeline with the pictures of Pauli, and explaining that to her.

Karen was already leaned back against the headboard with my laptop on her lap and I couldn’t help but notice her satin nightgown opening up a little in front. She’s a gorgeous woman. I’d kind of taken her for granted lately and that night out a week earlier had reminded me just how beautiful she is.

I waited, kind of reading along with her as she scrolled down, then went into chapter two – the dinner. In a bit I heard a little giggle and she looked up at me, “It doesn’t taste like chocolate?” she giggled, “where’d that come from?”

I shrugged. She just went back to reading, not really expecting an answer.

Then she clicked on chapter three, the strip poker game. I held my breath, expecting something, not sure what, most likely throwing me out of her bedroom, maybe out of the house. That was where the story moved far beyond just a renewed friendship and Adriana’s revelations to Matt. Where… Pauli wanted to go.

When she finished, she sounded incredulous, “You wrote… this? Why?”

I know by then that my voice was shaking, I was scared. “It’s… a… story…”

“You want to do this? Us to do this?”

“No, I… no, it’s just fiction… you know, every guy’s fantasy…”

She was wide-eyed, “Your fantasy?”

“No…” then quietly, “maybe, but… not something I’d ever do… until…”

“Until? There’s more you’re not telling me, isn’t there?”

I gulped. My skin was clammy, hands sweating. As much as I’d feared her finding out about Lush, that seemed pretty minor, now. I had to tell her…”There’s a girl… I never intended anything, she saw me reading… in the restaurant when you and your mom went to the bathroom…”

I hesitated, crap! Those words I’d thought of so many times, ‘What could possibly go wrong?’ came back to haunt me. “She… walked by our table, saw me reading… and asked me about it…”

“This girl pretty?”

I nodded, “Yeah… very.”

“I showed her the website. Gave her my contact info.” The sweat must have been rolling off my forehead, scared shitless! “We’ve been in contact. She likes my stories.” I pointed to the one she just read, chapter three, “Especially, that one.”

Karen looked straight into my eyes, just waiting, like she maybe had some idea what was still coming, the thing I really, really didn’t want to tell her.

I gulped again, taking a big breath, “She wants…” I didn’t know if I could do this, but had to, “wants to… play out that scene.”

There, it was out, but I guess not all of it, which Karen guessed, “With you, this weekend?”

I nodded, “And her boyfriend; she has a boyfriend.”

I’d gone this far and rushed ahead, “You were going to Portland, going to be gone. I had told her I couldn’t… but then, Portland, your mom… told her that, we made arrangements… tomorrow night. That’s why you can’t go to Portland… I’ll tell her plans changed. I can’t come.”

I didn’t know what the hell kind of reaction I might get. I had no idea about the expression on Karen’s face. I just wanted to keep talking, so she couldn’t. I was so damned afraid what she’d say when she did. “We’ll go out, anything.”

“But you were going to go through with this. You’ve been planning it for how long?”

I took another breath, “A week, week ago today I met her and her boyfriend at lunch. It was just supposed to be to talk about a story, not this.”

She laughed, “I guess it was about a story, huh?”

I nodded. “Yeah, guess it was.”

“This girl, how old is she?”

“Twenty-four…” God, that sounded stupid, so young.

“And she’s pretty, you said?”

I nodded, “Very.”

Karen hesitated for a long time before she said anything, you know, like ‘you better find a good divorce lawyer.’

“Okay,” she finally said.

I was confused, “Okay? Okay, what?”

She looked straight at me again, boring a hole through my eyes, “Okay, we’ll go.”

I was confused, “We’ll go? What? Where? Out that night?”

“To your girlfriend’s, to your little game.”

Now I was really confused, Karen, my Karen? What the hell?

She went on, “I don’t think I have anything for strip poker. Will have to do a little shopping tomorrow.”

What the… was she talking about? “Hon? You…?”

She gave me a little peck on the lips, “I’ll read more tomorrow, but for now we better get some sleep. Tomorrow might be a late night.”

She rolled back over in bed leaving my mouth gaping open. What the fuckin’ hell had just happened?

When I got up the next morning, Karen was in the kitchen, humming as usual, grating some potatoes for breakfast, “Good morning, sleepyhead,” she said.

What the? I was still confused. Had last night actually happened? “I called my mom, told her something had come up so I’d be down next weekend, instead.” I shook my head, this couldn’t be real! “She was disappointed, but said it’d be okay.”

After we ate breakfast, Karen asked me to show her that site again, “Got a little reading to catch up on,” she said, “then going shopping.” The cheerful voice was driving me mad!

So I showed her the website on her tablet, then how to get into my profile. She scrolled up and down, zeroing in on the three pictures. “This her?” she asked as she clicked on the first one, the bikini.

“Uhuh, her name’s Pauli,” I told my wife, still absolutely, totally, bizarrely in shock.

She looked at all three pictures, “No wonder,” she mumbled. Then she looked away from the screen up to me, “You were going to fuck her, weren’t you?”

My mouth must have dropped open. My wife had never used that word in all the thirteen years we’d been married. And to just blurt that out, like, ‘weather’s great today, wanna go for a ride?’ Is this the same woman I went to bed with last night?

But she was still waiting for an answer, “I don’t know… doubt it… maybe,” I admitted, “but I didn’t. Couldn’t. Had to tell you.”

“Glad you did. You know what might have happened?”

I nodded, “Yeah, I think so, you’d have found out.”

“And? That the only reason you told me?”

I shook my head, “No, just couldn’t go through with it.”

She hesitated, “You said she has a boyfriend?”

I nodded, unsure what the hell to say now, “She says he’s not the jealous type.” God, that sounded weird.

“Guess I have some competition, then, huh.”

“I… I… I…” What the hell? How do you react to that? Damn! Pauli and Connor had suggested I bring my wife, though.

“You do the dishes,” she told me, like, she… just wanted me to do the dishes. She sat down in her recliner with her tablet and I just watched while she sat and read. Those next chapters were pretty damn hardcore. And then later, they got really hardcore.

I glanced in at her once in a while while I was cleaning up the kitchen. She was just sitting there, reading. I totally didn’t understand. There must be a part of my wife that I’ve never even known existed. Then I chuckled to myself a little, guess it worked both ways.

Then I wondered about that night. Was she seriously going to do that? Was I? And what exactly was ‘that’ going to be?

After the kitchen was spotless, I grabbed my laptop, sat down on the couch and started working on the next chapter of ‘After the Reunion’ that I’d been working on, glancing up occasionally to see Karen’s grin, reading about Matt and Adriana trading spouses with Tanner and Tanya for the weekend. Of course, that would have been way earlier in the story. She was probably up to Reno by then.

I’d have loved to know exactly what was happening in the story when I heard a little ‘Mmm’ from Karen. I thought that it was going to be so cool when we’re kind of back to ‘normal’, and I’d be able to go over the story with her instead of hiding the fact that I was writing it.

She read and I wrote for the next three hours, until shortly after noon, when Karen stood up and said it was time for her to go shopping. I could not help but notice that her thin, stretchy, lounging pants seemed damp between her legs. By then, she should have been almost through all thirty-seven chapters, or however in hell many there were.

I waited several minutes after she left and peeked out the front window to make sure she was gone, then picked up her tablet, opened it and checked to see if I could tell what she’d been reading. It was ‘After the Reunion Ch 17, the one where Addie was in the glass cage with Jonah, then Samuel. I wondered what the hell she’d thought about that. I put it down, back where it had been so she wouldn’t know I’d been spying. God, I still didn’t understand, not at all!

Karen had been gone nearly four hours. I’ll admit that I totally lost interest in writing the next chapter of the story, still bewildered and nervous as hell about that night. Twenty-four hours ago, I was scared about our pending divorce when Karen eventually found out about my night with Pauli. And now? Hell, I’d been confused about things before, but not like this! What the hell was going to happen later tonight?

Was this all an act so Karen could meet Pauli and strangle her? At least we don’t own a gun, so it would have to be hand-to-hand combat. I didn’t think that was her plan, hoped not, anyway. But the alternative was even weirder. Karen hadn’t ever even hinted at anything like exhibitionism; she always dressed pretty conservatively. The silver dress a week ago was the most revealing I’d ever seen her wear. Strip poker? With strangers? No way! I guess it’d be easier than with people we know, but still. Impossible was still impossible.

I know damn good and well that she was wet after reading those stories, though. Far as I know, that’d never happened before. And what the hell was she buying?

When she finally did get home, she carried in several bags. I didn’t see what store they were from, she went straight upstairs to our room and a few minutes later, I heard her yell down, “Hon, you need to come get the clothes you’re wearing.”

Okay, I climbed the stairs and went into our bedroom. Karen wasn’t in the room and I heard the shower running, so that was obviously where she was. I looked around, hoping to see the sacks she’d brought home, but they weren’t anywhere. I pulled some clothes out of my drawer; clean socks, underwear (what kind of underwear do you wear to strip poker?) pair of slacks and a nice shirt out of the closet. Shoes, need shoes. My nicest shoes are a pair of leather boat shoes, so grabbed those as well; then my toothbrush, razor, and a comb.

While I was getting the toothbrush and stuff, I took a little peek through the frosted shower doors at my wife’s naked body. She’s a little self-conscious about her thirty-five-year-old body, but in reality, she looks damn good. Nice perky boobs, smallish, but sexy as hell; slim waist; coal-black hair, my inspiration for Adriana’s hair color; and very ‘wholesome’ pretty, a lot like I envision Adriana.

I shook my head in wonderment, picked up my things and headed out.

I had to laugh at myself a little, lighten the mood, when I thought about what I had written about Adriana and Tanya, even Michelle in the Robert and Michelle series, how their husbands always had to wait for them to get ready to go. That was a total figment of my imagination as Karen was almost always really quick getting ready. But not this time. She took forever, just like Matt waiting for the fictional Adriana.

When Karen did come downstairs, I was totally blown away, confused, bewildered, perplexed, however in hell you want to say it. I didn’t understand. I totally was at a loss for words. Karen was wearing a grey, frumpy-looking, ankle-length dress-thing, almost like a burlap bag, white sneakers, hair in a bun, looking like she was going to a… hell, I had no idea where. She had a small bag with her, about as nondescript as what she was wearing.

“You ready?” the bag-lady cheerfully asked me. That was what she looked like, a homeless, bag-lady. What the hell?

“You’re wearing… that?” I asked her.

She looked down at herself, “Uh, yeah, problem?”

No, no problem at all. I don’t know what I wanted to say. “No, you’re beautiful.” Liar! Well, she is, but that… sack she was wearing?

She smiled, “Thank you, I hoped you’d like it. Shall we go?”

What the friggin hell? But I was a perfect gentleman; I opened the car door for her and watched her climb in, scooting that… maybe it was canvas, whatever the hell it was… around so it didn’t pinch her butt. At least it didn’t have any holes or tears. And was clean. Those were about the only good things I could think of.

Right after we left home, bag-lady suggested we run by McDonald’s for something to eat. I didn’t think my fluttery stomach could handle a thing, but we stopped anyway. It was almost embarrassing, I was glad Karen, in her gunny-sack or whatever, was on the other side where the cashier-girl couldn’t see her, at least much.

Karen ordered her usual chicken sandwich and I suggested maybe we could split it, since she didn’t usually eat all of hers and I didn’t feel in the least bit hungry. We ordered one diet coke to share, too.

After getting them, I pulled into a parking spot. Karen tore the sandwich somewhat in half and we sat, eating. I did manage a bite and it didn’t seem so bad so I ate down the rest of my half, then waited while Karen nibbled on hers. She’s infuriating sometimes, how long it takes her to eat. Maybe that’s why she manages to keep that figure.

Okay, I’ll admit that one evening on my way home from work that week, I’d looked up Pauli’s address and driven by her house. Hoped I’d get a glimpse, maybe through a bedroom window or something. But it was only once. Does that make me a stalker?

On the way, after we’d finished our sandwich, I kept looking over at Karen, wondering when she’d call off this charade, tell me it was all a joke, to turn around and go home.

Even when I pulled up in front of her house, I fully expected something to happen, sure as hell not what did happen, though. What did happen was that Karen waited in the car for me to open her door, then together we walked up Pauli’s sidewalk and Karen stood in front with her little bag, ringing the doorbell.

My thanks to Cbears52 for his editing help, Simplicity for loaning me her name and story, and MissTammy for guiding me in the right direction. The story might have gone completely off the rails without her advice.