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The Ballet
16/09/2020
“Are you sure?” Dianne asked for the fifth time. I knew that this time was the last.
“I am,” I said. “We talked about this. A lot. Go. Have fun.”
Dianne studied me, her expression unreadable. She looked gorgeous—and not just because of the short black dress she wore, or the way she’d brushed her blond hair into lustrous waves. My wife looked gorgeous because she was about to go on a date with another man.
“I love you, Mike. No matter what.”
She stepped closer, resting a hand on my chest. Could she feel my heartbeat hammering away?
“I know, Dianne. This is just a new adventure for us.”
It was a thing we’d been reassuring ourselves with since I’d first broached the fantasy of other men, and after a lot of convincing, Dianne had admitted that the thought turned her on, too. I knew this wasn’t exactly what I wanted. I mean, I really wanted to be there with her, to hold her, kiss her, feel her excitement in my hands as another man brought her to new orgasmic heights. But this could be a first step in that direction.
“I can’t wait to hear all about it when you’re back.”
She stepped right up against me, filling my nose with her perfume—perfume she normally didn’t wear. I thought she might say more, give me one last out. Instead, she kissed me, long and leisurely. I could taste the waxiness of her lipstick—bright red against her pale skin. Her hand caressed the back of my neck. She’d kiss him like that later tonight. The thought was intoxicating.
“Okay, I’m going.” Dianne always had a sweet voice, but tonight it sounded husky around the edges. If I hadn’t known with absolute certainty that at this point, this was as much her fantasy as it was mine, then that uncharacteristically throaty admission would have surely convinced me.
“Have fun, honey.”
The last bits of concern fell away, replaced by something mischievous.
“Oh, I plan to. Definitely don’t wait up.”
And with that, Dianne left for her date.
****
That night, I discovered what it felt like to hyperventilate in slow motion. To breathe and breathe and never get enough air. In a way, I was used to this. Dianne often would go out with her friends leaving me, and in the past the kids, sometimes after dinner and coming back after I’d gone to sleep. But the kids were gone off to their own lives, and she was going to have dinner with someone else. As I ate alone, I wondered where she was. The plan was for dinner and an evening at the ballet—hence her getting dressed up. She’d won two tickets to tonight’s performance of the Ballet and coincidentally, ostensibly, I couldn’t go because of a “work trip.” The set-up was too perfect to pass up. Every time I closed my eyes, I thought of them together—Dianne and her only ex lover that she said could actually make her cum by penetrating her. Something I’d never been able to achieve. She’d told me all the details of how big he was and how he made her cum every single time he fucked her, sometimes rough and passionate, other times tenderly. I loved hearing all the sultry details. It took a long time before Dianne would actually give me the detail I craved, but now she’d tell me everything. Every feeling, sight, taste, and orgasm that she’d experienced. This particular ex-lover I’d only ever seen in photos, and very few at that.
After dinner, I headed into the family room on auto-pilot, pulling out some old photo albums. I had three photos from years ago, back in Dianne’s days in Gainesville—years before we’d met. On top was a photo of Rob by himself, posing in front of a navy blue Mustang. Rob was an All-American blond kid with broad shoulders and the kind of jaw I associated with shaving commercials and superheroes. Dianne was in the other two—a twenty-something-year-old Dianne looking happy snuggled under his arm. I could see the beautiful mature woman she’d become in the smiling young woman of the photos, but it was still hard to connect the two. Did you love him? I’d asked when I’d first discovered these photos. She’d just laughed. Rob and I had a good time, but no, I didn’t love him. And then, as if by explanation, she’d added, you know, I was young.
You know? I didn’t. My younger days mostly involved networked computer applications and cheap booze with some stoner friends. I didn’t join a frat in college—or even go to frat parties—and my only hookups were with girls I was at least a little serious about.
Thinking that Dianne might have been involved in a purely physical relationship blew me away. I’d always looked at her through the lens of my own life. I was young, you know? She was laughing in one of the photos. Laughing at something Rob said? At the man himself? My phone buzzed. A text. I didn’t want to look at it, yet I couldn’t resist. It was kind of a theme for us.
–done with dinner. headed to the ballet
My heart fluttered. My cock stiffened. The night would continue. Dianne wouldn’t be coming home early.
–enjoy it
My hands shook as I pressed send. I waited for a response for a solid five minutes before finally putting away the phone and moving upstairs. No response. She was already with him. My thought was to take a cold shower, but even I’m not as masochistic as that. I turned it up high and stepped beneath the spray. My mind wandered. Who’s the square jaw? I’d asked months ago, when I’d first found Rob’s photo in the attic. Oh, just a guy I used to know. Her cryptic answer had kicked off a discussion that led us here, to tonight. At one point, that journey had been so important. The what ifs. The hypotheticals. The confessions. Now, all I could think about was Dianne in Rob’s arms. When we’d looked him up back then, we learned that he’d gone into the State Department after school and ended up traveling the world. Dianne and I had settled down in a suburb in central Florida, falling in love with the schools as much as setting that seemed great to raise a family. So when Dianne friended Rob on Facebook and discovered that he’d be flying in for a meeting a few towns over, it took the fantasy to a whole new level. A level that led us to the ballet. My cock swelled in my soapy hands, feeling huge, or at least huge for me. I braced a hand on the slick tile wall and jerked myself in fluid strokes. I called to mind Dianne’s dress—one she’d bought specifically for tonight. She’d bought lingerie for him, too, a point she seemed to delight in sharing with me. She rarely purchased sexy underwear. When I saw the black bra and g-string, the stockings with their lacy bands and the garter belt to hold them in place—all of which were new—it almost took my breath away. I loved it. It was hard to admit, but I loved every aspect of this fantasy. Even the ones that hurt bit. I loved discovering this secret side of Dianne, one that ran so counter to the wife and mom I knew, the wife I loved, the woman I respected.
Do you want to fuck him?
Yes. It’s all I’ve been thinking about.
Dianne had been so excited when she’d admitted that to me. So fucking wet.
I thought of the text again. Headed to the ballet. That was sent what? Twenty minutes ago? Twenty-five? My balls seized. I went light-headed. Stars clustered behind my eyelids. Headed to the ballet. The ballet. Oh God… There was no ballet. There never was. It was code between us. Code that meant she’d decided to go back to his hotel room and sleep with him.
I came with a grunt. That thought drove the wind from me as surely as a swift kick. And yet I came harder than I had in ages. The shower washed my mess away as I recovered. Weak, I dragged myself out of the stall and toweled off. My mind, for once, was blank. I brushed my teeth, barely seeing my pale appearance reflected back at me. Going into the medicine cabinet for the floss, I spotted a new box on the lower shelf. A box of condoms. My chest tightened. It was open. Four of the six wrappers were missing. Four. To even bring things to reality more, they were of course magnum sized. I shut the cabinet, forgetting about the floss, and crawled into bed naked.
****
Time passed, although I couldn’t tell you if I slept. I kept my phone by my side—in my hand, worried that I’d miss a text. We passed ten o’clock. Then midnight. Then three in the morning. I must have dozed, but if I did, my dreams were filled with the same images as my waking thoughts: Rob and his All-American good looks taking my wife again and again. Filling her with his inevitably huge cock. Reminding her of the girl who could have a purely physical relationship. I didn’t jerk off—not since the shower—but I never grew soft either. My wife was out fucking another man. Two weeks ago, the thought alone made me instantly hard. Now it was happening and it was every bit as intense as I’d imagined. I was jealous, excited, scared shitless, envious, self-pitying, turned on like never before… The list could go on and on, filled with paradox and contradiction and, ultimately, truth. Dianne was out there, another man satisfying her, and I was back in our bed. Alone. Only if I could be there to witness it could it have been better.
****
Dianne finally came home at nine the next morning—9:06 if I wanted to be precise about it. Her hair was wet. Her make-up scrubbed. She looked as exhausted as I felt, but couldn’t stop smiling from where she stood in the bedroom door. It wasn’t a smile for me.
“You have fun?”
She didn’t startle; she’d known I was awake in bed. But she seemed to see me for the first time.
“Yeah. I had a lot of fun.”
She entered the room, morning light spilling over her. She still wore the little black dress, but held her heels in her hand, and her stockings were gone. I held out my hand.
“Tell me about it.” She came to me, sitting by the edge of the bed. She caressed my cheek, then kissed me on the forehead. Was that a man’s cologne I smelled? Another man’s musk?
“I will. But I need to rest.” She looked me in the eyes.
“I didn’t get much sleep last night.”
“Yeah?” I didn’t add that I didn’t, either. Her smile brought out her natural beauty—the way her cheekbones were more defined from those photos of her in college. Had Rob noticed? She said at last,
“The ballet was really good.”
“Good performances?” I started to harden.
“Great, I’d say.” Then added, “Better than I remembered.”
We laughed at one another. She was killing me. How could she read me so well? She stood again and slipped the straps of her dress from her shoulder. With a shimmy, it pooled around her ankles. She wore nothing beneath—gone were the stockings, the g-string I’d spied, the expensive bra that I’d never seen. Her tits, full and ripe, were marked with red where her pale skin had been mauled. Her nipples seemed darker than I remembered them being. But it was the sight between her legs that sucked my breath away. The trimmed landing strip of hair—tidied up for last night—drew my eyes down to her shaved pussy lips, angry red from use. The last scraps of hope that this had all been some elaborate ruse evaporated. My stomach churned. I was both happy, and so scared I forgot to breathe.
“Yes, we had sex.” Dianne’s words snapped my attention back to her. She shared a rueful smile with me before sliding into bed on my side, edging me over.
“Dianne—”
She cut me off with a kiss, strong and demanding. She trailed a hand down between us, finding me naked. Finding me hard.
“Does it turn you on, knowing I was with another man last night?” She squeezed me, adding, “All night?”
“Oh, God.”
“You’re not going to come yet, are you?”
My face tightened. I was. I couldn’t stop myself. I’d kept my orgasm on edge through the fitful night. Dianne dove beneath the sheets. I felt the wet envelope of her mouth just as I blew. She sucked and swallowed. I groaned. It was all happening so fast.
“Well,” she said. She crawled out from under the blankets and snuggled against me. The skin-to-skin contact was amazing.
“Tell me something. Anything.” I said.
Dianne tickled her fingers through my chest hair. “I still love you, and only you.”
I groaned. “Not what I had in mind.”
“I know,” she said. “But it’s important that you remember that. Keeps things in perspective when I tell you about how I let another man have me.”
“How?” I squeaked.
“Any way he wanted.”
I gulped. Dianne continued.
“He first kissed me at the restaurant, around dessert. We’d been having a good time, talking about old times and sharing what we knew about old friends—apparently I’m better connected than he is, but that’s not surprising. It was fun, but tame.”
“Until the kiss,” I said.
“Until the kiss. After that, when I didn’t discourage him, we both knew where the night was headed.”
“Is that when you texted me? About the ballet?”
“Oh, no. By the time I texted you, I’d already given him a blowjob as he drove us back to his hotel.”
I was hard again. “You what?”
“Well, it seemed silly for us to take separate cars, so I rode with him in his rental.” She curled her hand around my erection. “Or are you asking about the blowjob?”
“Yeah. That.” Dianne laughed.
“That was crazy, but fun. wasn’t my idea to do that while he was driving, but it was really exciting.”
She shifted over me. Before I even realized what was happening, she’d impaled herself on my cock. I sank into her without resistance. She was so wet, and so…stretched out? Dianne took up the conversation again.
“I thought that every person in the hotel lobby knew what I was up to. It was so naughty.” She shivered.
“We rode the elevator up with some others, so nothing more than some hand-holding went on there. But as soon as he had me inside his room…” She looked down at me.
“Go on,” I said.
“He stripped me. At least out of my dress and bra. We were all over each other, hands getting reacquainted.”
“He liked what he saw?”
“Oh yeah. He…he said I looked better than back in the day.”
I thought of those photos in the den. “You do.”
She nodded. “Of course, he was trying to fuck me. He would’ve said anything.”
“And did he? At that point?” Dianne took a deep breath.
“Yes.”
“How? What position were you in? How did it happen?”
“Well…” She started fucking me faster, undulating her hips in a way that sent amazing sensations along my shaft.
“We kissed. We stripped. We found ourselves on the bed. I…” She checked on me, making sure I was still okay. “I rolled him onto his back, straddled him, and fucked him.”
Her confession reverberating along the walls of my soul. I would never forget them. Not for the rest of my life. It also meant that she’d done the initiating. She’d been the one to sit on him, to guide him into her. To sink down on another man’s hard cock.
“Our first time was a lot like what we’re doing now, only…”
“Only?” I prompted.
“He was way bigger than you.”
“A lot?” My chest tightened.
“Oh, yeah. I mean enormous.”
“And you liked that?”
Dianne smiled weakly down at me, her orgasm moments away.
“Do I like feeling a nice, big cock in me? Filling me up in ways that you never could?”
“Dianne…”
“Any girl who says that size doesn’t matter has never been with a guy like Rob. It was amazing.”
My balls tightened. “Dianne—”
“And it wasn’t that he was so huge. It was that he knew how to use it. Some of the ways he fucked me… Some of the angles, the way he changed speed… The man had learned quite a few tricks since I knew him back then.”
“Oh, Dianne!”
Dianne grinded into me, squeezing down as I filled her. I heard her peak and crest above me, crashing through her own orgasm.
“Ngh, yes!” Her voice strained through the moans. “You feel so good. Fuck me, Mike!”
Hearing my name in her cries sent warmth through my body. I stroked her hips. Her back. I kissed her in the shadow of her orgasm, our appetites quenched for the moment. We reconnected in that familiar kiss. I couldn’t believe that Dianne just came while I was inside her. It was amazing and sexy and erotic and everything I had ever thought it would be.
“You’re incredible, Dianne.”
“I know.” She giggled. “Thanks for last night. I’ll never forget it.”
“I’m glad you went.” My insecurities bubbled up before I could stop them. “And I’m glad you came back.”
“Of course I did, honey. I will always come back.” My heart skipped a beat at the implication.
“So you think you’ll do it again?” My cock had softened enough to slip from her warmth, but she was still close enough that I could feel her slippery excitement.
“I think that the ballet may come around a few more times in our future.” She laughed.
“Oh yeah?”
“In fact, I heard they had an encore performance tonight. Last night before they leave town.” She kissed the crook of my neck.
“Maybe you can get me a ticket” I said.
Dianne responded. “Well darling, they’re all sold out for tonight’s show, but I already inquired about the next time the ballets and town. I think you’ll be able to attend some of those performances. For tonight, I’ll just have to make due with out you”.
“Sounds like something you don’t want to miss.”
Dianne pulled back, her blond hair spilling around us. “I’ve already said yes. Which is why I need my rest.”
She was going to see him again. She was going to see him and knew I would approve. Now I couldn’t wait for tonight.
“Get some sleep, hon,” I said, slipping out of bed. Dianne turned over in the bed, tugging the bed sheets against her. She looked like a nude model, tastefully draped.
“Where are you going?”
“Buying you some more condoms. You’re going to need more than two.” She smiled, shutting her eyes to the happy memory of last night—and the promise of later today. “Actually, I still have four from last night, and I think there are more in the medicine cabinet… But, really, I don’t need them. They’re too small anyway.”


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