The Game Ch. 03

Strangely enough, we both seemed to relax as we prepared the salad. Jeanie made a couple of fairly suggestive remarks as she dealt with the cucumber; I said something about the size of the pickled onions and, when I squeezed out what was left of the mayonnaise onto the greens, we looked at each other and grinned until Jeanie pointed her knife at me and laughed: "Don't even think of saying anything!"

It felt good. There was pleasant banter that we both enjoyed. Obviously, it wasn't anything like what we'd been used to a few months earlier, but it was a small step along the way – helped, no doubt, by the fact that we were well into a second bottle of Riesling. Okay, the salad wasn't quite as good as the Chinese meal we'd been looking forward to but, washed down with the wine, it filled us enough and, as we ate, we began to talk. I wasn't sure that I really wanted to, but Jeanie was determined to take charge.

"Okay," she said as she finally pushed her plate aside, "I've some questions I want to ask. I don't want instant responses... I want you to really think about them before you answer. And I don't want you getting in a huff and storming off somewhere. Our Marriage is at a crossroads... like it or not... and we've got to decide where it's going."

I managed to put it off for a few more moments while I opened another bottle of wine, refilled my glass and topped her up, but then she said;

"Okay, Mark... first question; I'm your wife, I love you more than anything on earth, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you... do you feel the same?"

"I can pretend to think it if you like," I answered, noting that my words had a hint of slurring to them, "but the fact is that you're everything I could ever want...."

"And can you forgive me for what happened? Please, Love... don't just answer... think about it."

"Jeanie... I don't have to forgive you," I said, "I have to try to forgive myself. It was me who put you in that situation. It never would have happened if I hadn't got myself tied up in that fantasy... if I hadn't pushed you into taking it so far."

"So... how do you feel about it now?" she asked very quietly, "Please... be completely honest with me... I need to know."

"That's the part I'm struggling with," I admitted, noticing again that my words were being affected by the alcohol, "I mean... in all honesty... when I think of you with him... when I remember all you told me... it still turns me on. At the same time, I feel incredibly jealous and... well... angry... and... oh, I don't know... confused, I suppose."

There was a long silence then as we both tried to absorb what had been said. I refilled my glass again, barely noticing that Jeanie had taken no more than a sip from hers.

"So... we still love each other," Jeanie began to summarise, "and we still want to be together. The fantasy we enjoyed was fine... but the reality didn't turn out to be what we wanted it to be. And our problem is that what happened that night is still hanging over us."

"Plus the thought of a baby...." I began

"No! Let's leave that out of it for now," she insisted, "our marriage is the first concern. Between us, we've put it risk and we have to find a way to sort it out. We... or maybe I... used Greg as a pawn in our game – d'you remember me saying that? Only, the pawn tried to capture the queen and the king is left to suffer."

"Errm... what?" I said, no longer able to follow what she was saying.

"It's there all the time," she mused, "like Banquo's ghost...."

"Who?"

"Sorry, Love," she suddenly smiled, "I'm just thinking about how we can exorcise it."

It was all too much for me. I suddenly realised that the third bottle was empty and that my eyelids were closing.

"You're tired," she said, which was generous of her, really, because she could have easily said I was drunk and I wouldn't have been able to argue. "Look... you go on up to bed. I'll just clear up here and I want a bit of time alone to think this through."

I didn't argue. I wearily made my way to the bathroom. I heard Jeanie rummaging around in our wardrobe, but it didn't seem important and, by the time I reached the bedroom, I could hear that she'd returned to the kitchen and was tidying the place up. Without feeling any pain, I slid between the covers and was asleep almost as soon as my head touched the pillow.

**

5.

It was mid-morning although it didn't look it. The feeble light from a grey and miserable day barely penetrated the curtains and the bedroom was still pretty dark when I opened my eyes.

To begin with, I was in one of those states where you're not certain whether you're awake or still asleep, and not sure which will be the best choice. Wearily, I stretched my body a little and, automatically, reached out to the other side of the bed to touch my wife; but she wasn't there. For a moment or two, I listened for any signs of activity in the rest of our home, wondering if she'd risen early and was making breakfast, but there wasn't a sound to be heard.

Suddenly, I felt a sense of panic begin to rise with the thought that I was having some new variation on the familiar nightmare; then I tried to recall the events of the night before, wondering if I'd said something really stupid to upset her again but, even though my recollections were hazy, I couldn't think of anything to justify the very obvious fact that her side of the bed had not been slept on.

Where was she? What was happening? Without wanting it to sound too urgent, I gently called her name – but there was no response. Once again, as I eased my legs out of bed, I called out 'Jeanie' and this time I heard footsteps outside the bedroom door. I don't know why, but the sound, and the absence of a vocal response, made me feel nervous so that, as I stood up, I called out: "Jeanie... is that you?"

The last word was still hanging in the air as the door opened and Jeanie stepped inside, leaning back to close it behind her. I felt my jaw drop as I saw her standing there, saw what she was wearing, and heard her softly say: "Yes... it's me, Greg. I'm here!"

Greg? What the hell was going on? Had she flipped? Or was it me?

But before I had any chance to think about it she stepped away from the door towards me. I think my mouth may have opened and closed a few times – a bit like a goldfish – as we stood there and just looked at one another. Her hands appeared to tremble a little bit as they reached up to the top button of the white blouse, but they seemed to have no trouble with the unfastening of them until, as the final one came undone, she whispered; "We both know what we're here for, don't we, Greg?" Then she gave a gentle shrug of her shoulders and the blouse slid down over her arms and onto the floor.

I didn't even dare to breathe. I didn't have a clue what was happening, but Jeanie reached forward and took hold of my hands and, with a touch as soft as a summer breeze, caressed my lips with hers. It was so brief, so tantalising and yet, somehow, it seemed to send an incredible shudder of desire coursing through my veins. We kissed again... and then again; much deeper and longer kisses this time and I felt Jeanie's fingers begin to undo the buttons of my pyjama top. She managed the first two – with difficulty – and I quickly unfastened the others myself as she pressed her lips to the hairs on my chest and kissed me gently.

There was no thought at all as I reached around her and unhooked her bra – it was as if my hands were acting independently of my brain – and as soon as I slipped it off her arms she pressed herself close to me, murmuring: "Oh, yes, Greg... I love the feel of a hairy chest against my tits."

I know that's what she said, but I barely heard her. I was feeling the warmth of her body against mine; feeling her small breasts flattening against my chest and I was becoming almost unnaturally aroused. I kissed her, again and again, before moving my lips down her breasts and carefully drawing one of her rigid nipples into my mouth. I heard her moan, heard her murmur Greg's name again – but it didn't seem to matter as I squeezed and fondled her tits and sucked eagerly on her nipples.

We were on the bed. I don't even remember how we got there, but that's where we were and Jeanie was spreading her legs wide and gently pushing my head downwards, lifting the short, lemon-coloured skirt to reveal the nakedness beneath it, then guiding me until my lips touched her vulva and she shuddered with delight.

"Oh God!" she groaned, "Oh yes! Lick me Greg!"

I didn't understand why she was calling me 'Greg' and I didn't have either the time or the inclination to wonder about it. Was she indulging a fantasy – turning herself on with the memory of what had happened that night? What did I care when my lips and my tongue were eagerly enjoying the wonderful taste of her? I ran my tongue slowly along the soft flesh of her labia, from bottom to top on one side, barely pausing to flick the tip across the tiny button, then slowly down the other side as she quivered from the contact and I relished the faint but distinct tremor from her thighs.

Before long, she began to push her hips towards me with ever greater urgency and I felt her hand press against the back of my head. She was writhing against my tongue as I began to probe her entrance with it - and then her legs were trembling when my lips closed on her clitoris and began to suck on it very gently. I could feel all the familiar signs of her approach to orgasm, so I moved my lips away from there and just forced my tongue a little way into her entrance as she groaned loudly at being deprived of her climax and cried: "Oh... Greg! That is so-oo good! You are so good at that! Oh... yes, Greg! Oh, God... yes!"

My fingers slipped beneath her, cupping the firm orbs of her ass while my thumbs carefully held her soft, wet pussy lips apart and, for the first time since I'd begun doing this, I looked up. I couldn't even recognise the beautiful female who lay on the bed – the gorgeous young blonde with the small firm tits, the flat stomach and the bunched-up yellow skirt.

Once again I flicked the tip of tongue over her labia, feeling that all my senses were alive as I tasted the juices that were now flowing quite freely and breathed in their piquant aroma; watching the pulses of the flesh that I could feel convulsing against my fingers and thumbs, and hearing the moans of pleasure that each touch of my tongue produced.

"Oh, God! Don't tease me, Greg... please...." She whimpered and then, louder, she pleaded, "Please, Greg... please!"

And even before that plaintive appeal had died away I had moved up between her legs, my trousers discarded and a rigid erection finding its way unerringly towards its target. My arms moved around her and I heard her gasp as the tip of my cock touched her entrance and, almost immediately, began to nudge its way forward. Her eyes flew open, as if in total shock, as the head of it penetrated her and continued to push its way relentlessly into her insides. And then, sure of myself, I thrust forward and buried myself in her completely. I heard her screech from the shock of it and then, with a loud sigh, her arms and legs wrapped themselves around me and she muttered:

"Oh, yes! Oh... ye-sss, Greg! Do it... come on... fuck me, Greg. Fuck me!"

I wanted to make it last, to make it special both for myself and this beautiful young woman; but she made it clear that slow and gentle wasn't what she wanted. Her pelvis ground into me as she raised her hips off the surface of the bed; my face was showered with near-desperate kisses and her hands reached down to my hips and showed me the pace of thrusting she wanted until, after no more than a couple of minutes or so, she suddenly arched her back and almost screeched; "Yes! Yes! Go on, Greg! Christ... don't stop... fuck me, Greg! Fuck me... fuck me-eee!"

Her body shuddered and quivered helplessly beneath me, her eyes were wide as if in shock and her mouth hung open to gasp for air as her screams became silent and I felt the heat of the juices that streamed from her, bathing my groin in their warmth; and suddenly fucking her was all that mattered to me. When she whispered the name Greg, it was almost as if I recognised myself in the name and, when she clung to me, I pounded my cock into her as hard and as fast I could until, taken completely by surprise, I felt my own convulsions begin. There was fire flowing through me – that's what it felt like – and the feeling could not be resisted.

Without any thought at all I rammed my throbbing erection as far into the gorgeous blonde as I possibly could and roared at the thrill of the prodigious spasms that engulfed me as I took complete and total possession of the bewitching beauty who could only cling to me helplessly as I emptied myself deep inside her.

I heard her gasps, sounding almost fearful, as I finally fell on top of her feeling utterly drained. And then I heard her voice – the voice of my own sweet and wonderful Jeanie – saying; "I love you... I love you, Mark! I love you... I love you... I love you!"

And then, despite our weariness, we were kissing each other frantically, laughing while the tears – which probably had too many motives to be counted – flowed helplessly down both our faces.

**

6.

The bedclothes felt damp; damp from sweat and damp with the juices from our lovemaking, but neither of us cared. We lay entwined in each other's arms and lost in our thoughts.

"So when did you decide that you were going to do this?" I asked.

"Last night... when we were talking. When I was getting tipsy and you were getting pissed!" she laughed. "I think it was all that talk about pawns and kings and queens... or maybe it was just about playing a game... or perhaps it was the idea of laying a ghost... figuratively speaking!"

"Errm... I'm not sure...."

"No, neither am I. It was just one of those instinctive things, y'know? While you were in the bathroom, I went to the wardrobe and hauled out the blouse and skirt I wore that night... I haven't worn them since and I'd actually thought of throwing them out... because I had this sort of vague idea that we needed to reclaim the fantasy for ourselves and that the best way to do that was to let you annexe the role that Greg had taken."

"Did I ever tell you that you're very clever as well as very beautiful?" I asked

"Yep! You said something like that the first time you persuaded me into your bed! Anyway... I got dressed up... but when I went to go into our room I could hear you snoring!"

"I don't snore!" I protested, "I just breathe very deeply when I'm asleep!"

"You were snoring," she laughed, "Real window-rattlers! So, I knew it wouldn't work if I woke you out of a deep sleep... so I decided to wait."

"But... where...?"

"...In the other room; working out when it might be best to make a grand entrance! I was sat in the bed in there for ages... dressed in that outfit... wondering if I was doing the right thing. Y'know?"

"But you must've been worn out..."

"Well... yeah. Eventually I sat upright on top of the bed, with all the pillows I could find to prop me up... and that's how I woke up!"

"Honestly? When was that?" I asked.

"When I heard you call my name! To begin with, I was afraid you were having one of your nightmares again. So I leapt off the bed ... and I heard you call me again, so I came rushing into the bedroom.

"It was only when I was opening the bedroom door that I remembered what I was wearing!"

"You'd forgotten?"

"Well... I'd only just woken up," she explained, "To be honest, in the cold light of day, it suddenly seemed an even more risky strategy than it had the night before. If I'd had time to think, there's a good chance that I'd have backed out of it.

"But you didn't," I said gently, stroking up and down her spine with my fingertips. "So... just to help a mere male try to understand what seems to have been a phenomenal piece of feminine... errm... whatsit... what, exactly was the 'strategy' as you saw it?"

"Oh, dear! It'll probably sound ridiculous now; a bit crazy, even!" she said thoughtfully, "but what I wanted was for you to... sort of... become him. Just for long enough that you'd be able to reclaim the fantasy for yourself... for us!

"I don't know whether any of that makes... well, y'know... makes any kind of...."

"Jeanie... it doesn't make any sense whatsoever," I whispered in her ear, "But the fact is that it worked. You were absolutely astounding! For a little while, I actually 'became' Greg... in my mind, at least. And I've got to tell you, Jeanie, if that's what it was like for him... he's going to be searching high and low for you! Not only that... but if that was the way you reacted... then, well, it scares me to think that he's only a phone call away."

"Oh... my poor love," she said, raising herself up on one elbow, "there are still things you need to know."

I barely had time to register the thought 'Oh, God... what now?' before she leaned over and kissed me softly on the lips.

"Firstly... it wasn't quite like that with Greg. D'you know why?" she asked and, before I could answer, went on; "I'll tell you!

"With Greg, most of the excitement came from the unknown... from venturing into the forbidden, stepping outside the lines of convention if you like... every bit as much as it came from the physical side."

"But, you said...."

"Yes... and I told you the truth. I had an incredible night with him. I enjoyed it... I'll never deny that and it's unlikely that I'll be able to completely forget it. But it was... how can I explain... it was 'of the moment;' does that make any sense?

"I was playing 'the game.' I was gathering fuel for the fantasy and got completely carried away. No excuses, Love... I should have had enough control to at least have stopped him from cumming in me... but I'd never been in that situation before... and I didn't. I knew I'd betrayed you... knew how much it was going to hurt you... and you'll never know how tempted I was to just clean up and say nothing about that. It would have been so much easier to just lie to you."

"I'm glad you didn't, Jeanie," I told her, "however much it may have stung at the time, it...."

"There was another difference as well, Love," she interrupted, and kissed me again, "For Greg, I was just a notch on his bedpost... just a conquest. I'm willing to bet that he now thinks of me as the hot little blonde wife he met at the conference... the one he took back to his room and shagged to a standstill!"

"Jeanie!" I gasped, half-shocked, half-amused.

"Well, that's probably how he'll describe it to his pals," she said with a dismissive gesture. Anyway... no matter how much we might delve into fantasy, there will always be a real difference... a very big difference... between his lust and your love!"

I didn't trust myself to speak. I felt so filled with love for my beautiful wife that it threatened to overflow.

"Anyway..." she suddenly grinned, "there's another huge difference between that night and this morning!" And then, having paused just long enough for dramatic effect, she said: "The fact is that I think I'm far randier when I'm ovulating. I wasn't that night... but today...."

"Jeanie!" I gasped, not sure whether to be pleased or chilled to the bone, "You mean...?"

"That's right!" she beamed widely and then, after planting a real smacker of a kiss on my face, she said: "Exactly, you wicked man! You've taken advantage of a poor, innocent...."

"Innocent?" I almost choked in mock-horror.

"Pray, sirrah," she responded, trying and failing to look either hurt or offended, "I must beg you to exercise a little self-control!"

"Why didn't you suggest that before I started putting you up the duff?" I replied, and added a mildly sarcastic, "Milady!" At which point we both started to laugh like a couple of carefree kids.