Free A Wife's Fantasy by New Dawning Books

Chapter I
    "Do you remember that
fantasy you told me about?" Ana breathed into my ear.
    I was still too taken
aback to respond. She looked a little flushed and smelled like
tequila and cigarettes, but that was normal for girls' night out.
Every Thursday, she and her two best friends would go to the
theater or simply have dinner and a bit too much to drink at one of
the trendy bars in town.
    What wasn't normal is that
my elegant wife had just walked in the door followed by an
attractive man in a well-tailored suit. "Man" was perhaps a bit
generous. He looked maybe 25; about a decade younger than us.
"Who's he?" I managed to get out.
    "He's here to help us."
She hesitated "Of course only if you want." She dropped her gaze on
those last few words and her shoulder slumped slightly. Suddenly
she didn't look quite so confident and mischievous.
    I adore my wife when she
has that take-on-the-world look. The mundane weight of kids and
work made it appear less frequently, but I had glimpsed it again
when she marched in the door. My response here was crucial – a
slight hesitation, a tone of disappointment at my reaction had
crept into her voice. I would do anything to ensure that the
confident, sexy woman I had convinced to marry me ten years ago
stuck around a little longer. The years had been kind to us and we
were still very much in love, but not quite as wild and idealistic
as we had been.
    "Sure," I drawled and
kissed her playfully on the neck, trying to buy time. "Tell me what
you had in mind." I wasn't at all sure which fantasy she was
talking about. Cursed with an overactive imagination, it could have
meant anything from a luscious hot-fudge sundae on the back of a
camel in the Gobi desert to a full-scale Roman orgy. Judging by her
mischievous smile, I suspected it had more to do with the
latter.
    "Well, I told Alessia and
Thalia about it tonight. I hope you don't mind." She pulled back to
look into my eyes.
    I sensed that she was
trying to gauge my reaction, but I had no idea whether to be upset
or not, so I smiled and told her it was OK. I mean, they are her
best friends, if we can't trust them, who can we trust?
    "I'm so happy you are OK
with it. I never would have had the nerve to go through with this
without them. But they loved the idea and said they were jealous I
had such an open-minded husband.
    They found this guy at the
bar, told him the whole thing and brought him to me. I never
expected to get this excited about it." She finished her sentence
without taking a breath, then took my hand and placed it under her
skirt. My breath shortened at her risqué behavior.
    The white cotton of her
panties was drenched. As I brought my hand up to examine the drops
of moisture on my fingertips, the mingled scents of her arousal and
the tequila on her breath hit me hard. Exited and apprehensive at
the same time, my mind struggled to make sense of what was
happening.
    She pulled me closer. "But
I have a condition." She lowered her voice.
    I half nodded as we
embraced and tried not to give away my confusion.
    "You have to do whatever I
tell you, even if it isn't part of your original fantasy. This is
my fantasy now. When I tell the two of you to do something…to
me…for me…you have to do it. James has already agreed. Do you
agree?"
    I froze, but managed to
cover it up well by hugging her a bit more tightly. I had almost
forgotten about James standing there in the doorway, but now I
remembered which fantasy she meant.
    About six months back, I
told her a fantasy about watching while a young, handsome guy
fucked her. Our lovemaking is usually passionate, but sensual; this
fantasy was about a raw, hard fuck by a stranger. And I wasn't just
watching, I was licking her as he drove into her just centimeters
away. She had asked if I would be willing to touch him too. I had
told her it would depend on the situation and most importantly, it
would depend on how much she was really into it. There is nothing I
love more than to see her lose