To Old Friends

A niche for stories; fiction or non.
User avatar
Don Jetman
Player
Posts: 340
Joined: Sat Dec 15, 2018 8:56 am

To Old Friends

Unread post by Don Jetman » Thu Dec 27, 2018 11:18 pm

To Old Friends

Another memory from the wayback machine...

It was a beautiful day, and L and I were strolling through the theater
district, considering taking in a show by the end of the afternoon. Our
tastes in stage shows are usually 180 degrees apart, so whatever we decide
ends up being a compromise. She's been a little down lately due to a death
in the family, so I was ready to be the one to give in.

We stopped in front of one of the more elaborate theater facades and I
took a few pictures of L, hoping I could compliment her into posing a bit
and cheer her up. What I got were off-the-shoulder frowns with her tongue
sticking out at me and cross-eyed clown faces. It was heartwarming to
see that she could clown around so spontaneously in front of my camera.

I could see a few people watching us, passing by and grinning at L's
attempts to twist her pretty face into what she thought were masks
grotesque enough to break the lens. Then, just beside me I heard someone
say, "I think she should have been a model." I turned to see an old friend
and colleague from years ago. He still had the wide, toothy grin I
remembered from back then, still the boyish good looks and easy charm that
got him any girl or woman he wanted - coworkers, secretaries, and even a
female manager or two. I hadn't seen him for twenty five years.

Mike had joined my first company as a technician a few years after I had
settled in. I was an R&D scientist and he was assigned to my group. I
liked him right away. Our sense of humor mirrored how we worked together,
always outside the box, never wanting to rehash conventional drudgery from
the past. As much fun as we had in the lab, we never socialized outside of
work.

Mike had the social life of James Bond. Always secretive, always edgy from
the rumors we heard, and frantically active. He used to tell me of his
troubles, trying to keep his conquests' names straight and how complicated he
found it to "date" them without the others finding out. He'd never reveal
names, and he never seemed to be seen with the same girl twice in public,
but all of his companions were devastatingly hot. He was the quintessential
"player", and although it was rarely talked about at work, all the guys
secretly envied him. I know I did.

L had met him at company events and parties back then, and remembered him
immediately when they met that afternoon. While they talked, I remembered
the twinge of worry I felt at parties when I found them together, even
within a group of people. Mike never made an improper advance (that I knew
of), and L had never mentioned him after any of the events. But that was
long before my hotwife fantasies, and I was jealous when I imagined any
guy's interest in her. I just knew he was a player, and I doubted whether
knowing a woman was married made any difference to him. In time, it got
easier to trust them together - he was always friendly and polite around
her, and L never mentioned him for a second over the years. Mike and I had
a lot of fun, and a lot of success in those days, until the company was sold,
broken up, and we moved and went our separate ways.

So, back to the present, L suggested we all have lunch together, and we
ended up at a popular bar with an outside patio. Mike and I were both
into craft beers, and we began to sample the long list of wonky names on
the menu. Hours passed as L had her second glass of wine and Mike and I
worked our way through the beer list. He had become part independent
photojournalist and part storm chaser, having a blast traveling all over
the world doing his own thing. L was enchanted.

When Mike went to find the men's room, L moved her chair closer and
whispered in my ear.

"Can we ask him to come home with us?"

I turned and stared at her. She was grinning a grin I knew all too well.

"After all this time - and you never said anything? Did you always want
to fuck him? Even when we worked together?"

She nodded. "A lot. All the time. I used to masturbate to thoughts of
having sex with him."

"But, you never told me - you never even mentioned him, even as a
fantasy." I was shocked.

"Mmmm - those dirty little secrets? The ones I still haven't told you
about? It's one of those."

She just stared into my eyes as though it was a dare. A serious dare.
Time stood still. Mike would be back any minute. How would this go?

"I-I guess I could invite him over," I said quietly. "But, how would we,
um, tell him? Would you seduce him if he comes with us? We're old friends
- it could be pretty awkward if I brought it up. I guess I could go out
for beer or something and leave the two of you alone..."

L put a finger to my lips to stop me.

"I think you should tell him here, while I go to the ladies room. I want
this to be part of how I remember it. I want you to tell him how much I
want to fuck him, how much I've always wanted to fuck him, and that you're
OK with it."

"But come on, I can't do that here, at the table," I told her. Someone
might hear, and besides, it's, well, embarrassing to say something like
that to an old friend."

She just grinned again. "Don't you mean humiliating? You know, that thing
you like sometimes when I'm with other men?"

"But it's not the same," I answered. "We've known each other for years."
L asked, "Are you worried he'll say 'no' or that he'll say 'yes'? If you
weren't here, and I asked him to have sex with me, do you think he would?"

"I guess I know he would. Who wouldn't?"

That made her smile, and she put her hand on mine. "Then just tell him.
You know he'll come with us. You know he'll do it. And he'll go back home
with memories of something he and I always wanted but were afraid to ask
for all these years. And I'll tell you about it, tease you about it, all
the juicy details, for a long, long time. I know how much you like that."

Mike came back to our table and L left me to worry about how this would
play out. We ordered more beer, and after the waitress delivered them, I
took a drink and began.

"Did you know L has always had a crush on you?"

Mike just smiled and nodded.

"I had a pretty good idea back then. I guess I didn't want to screw up
your marriage though, and besides, my plate was already pretty full. But
if you're still worried, I promise you nothing ever happened."

"But what if we hadn't worked together?" I asked. "What if she would have
been someone else's wife, married to a guy you didn't know? Would it have
been tempting? Would she have been tempting enough to go after?

He put his beer down, stared at the table for a second, shook his head and
smiled. "I have to admit, Don, that I almost made up my mind to go after her
the first time I saw her. Maybe you don't see it after being married for so
long, but I'd bet L would be a target to any guy here. I have to say, she's
even better looking now than she was back then. Maybe this is too personal,
but don't you have trouble with guys hitting on her? Don't you worry that
she might be tempted by someone? She must have men all over her all the
time."

Well, if there was ever a perfect time, this was it. I told Mike I didn't
worry, not anymore. I told him we had "an open marriage", and that I was
over the jealousy and possessiveness that might eventually cause me to
lose her. "She's her own person," I told him. "We have a great marriage,
but she also enjoys lovers on the side that please her. I don't just let
her do it, I, well, now and then I enjoy it."

He stared at me without a word, and then took another drink. "So, it doesn't
bother you at all? That men fuck your wife? That she likes it? But how often
does this happen? Aren't you afraid she'll get involved and leave you? And
does she lets you fuck around as much as she does?"

I explained it the best I could, and he brought up the term "cuckold" from
an article he had read, and asked whether that's what we did. More
explaining, that yes, I agree not to fuck around, but I do get off on L's
sexual adventures. When he ran out of questions, it was my turn to ask the
big one before L returned.

"L wants you to come home with us this afternoon. If you're not leaving
town till tomorrow, you can stay the night. She wants you, Mike. Turns out,
she always has. And I think you feel the same way, or at least L hopes
you do. And before you ask, I'm perfectly fine with that. Better than fine,
actually. So, would you like to spend the night with her?"

Mike didn't hesitate. He smiled, shook my hand and said, "It's a little weird,
but I could definitely do that, Don. If that's what you both want."

As reassurance, I told him L loves some overt public intimacy, holding hands,
light kissing, but he stopped me there. "I've got this, Don. No problem."

Mike got up and met L near the bar as she was returning. They talked for
a few minutes, he took her hand, and they arrived at our table looking like
a new couple. On our walk back to the car, Mike suggested I take a few
pictures of him and L together. He put his arm around her waist and she
snuggled close to him and gave me her brightest glowing smile. His was more
of a leer, I thought, but so much the better - the wolf with his prey.

It was late afternoon when we got home. We were hot and still a bit buzzed
from the drinks. We sat and talked over old times for a while, and eventually
L brought us snacks and ice cold pitchers of water and lemonade. Afternoon
passed into evening, and yet the air was a thick with an awkward sexual
tension no one seemed to want to break. As the conversation died out, finally
L pulled the tank top over her head, went to where Mike sat, took his hand
and said, "Mike, I think it's time for bed." Mike glanced at me as they
passed, and I gave him my best "everything's fine" smile. Honestly, he looked
a little scared.

I let them have our bedroom all night. Yes, I listened at the door now and
then, and yes, it seemed that Mike was living up to his reputation. L
knows I like to listen, so she's not stingy anymore with sounds or words
in the heat of fucking. She kept calling him by name, telling him how good
he was, how she loved his cock and what he did to her. Even while she was
lost in the pleasure of her fantasy guy's cock, I knew her words were in part
a message to me, a reassuring aside to the moans and sighs of their fucking.
They were words at times laced with special meaning, code for her gratitude
that I helped bring her long-kept secret fantasy-fuck to life after so many
years, here, in our own bed.

"It was just like I imagined it would be," she told me the next day. "Back
then I fantasized about Mike and me sneaking off to a closet or dark room
at one of your company dinners, or maybe doing it in the back seat of his
car in the parking lot while you tried to find me after I went missing for
a while at your annual Christmas party. I guess the thought of cheating on
you was exciting to me in some strange way. But I always felt so guilty
about it at the time, so I never went through with it.

"I needed you to know about Mike when we saw him again - how much I still
wanted him. But he isn't my last dirty little secret. Or the only guy you
worked with I wanted to have sex with. There was someone else back then,
someone you worked for. If we ever happen to meet that guy again, I'll
tell you about him too. I do wonder if you'd ever let me spend the night
with him though..."

Post Reply