Two Can Play Ch. 03

Rachel returned to the marital bed with renewed vigour, but the rules had been changed.

"You can have me on condition that we have an open marriage."

"Like Carol and Steve?"

"Exactly."

"We play away from home as much as we like?"

"Yes. If either one of us fancies somebody else, we're free to indulge our fancy."

"One night stands only?"

"Of course. Anything more would pose a real threat to our marriage and I wouldn't like that to happen."

"Neither would I." Paul hesitated. "Erm...do we....er...tell each other? You know, talk about who we were with and what they were like and how we felt - that sort of thing."

Rachel frowned. "I'm not sure about that." She had no intention of telling him about Matt Hudson.

"It adds to the spice. And it means there's no secrets to come between us."

Rachel nodded. "That's true. We'll try it and see how it goes. If either of us feels uncomfortable talking about it, we can change the rules."

"Agreed."

"I also want more financial independence. Instead of pooling our incomes, as we always have, I'd like my own bank account."

Paul looked doubtful. He thought, perhaps, it was all going too far. "That means changing our whole way of working our financial affairs."

"I consider changing our moral attitudes to be more difficult and dangerous," said Rachel softly. "We could ruin everything, but I want to give it a try. We owe it to the ten years we've both put into this marriage."

Paul shrugged. "Whatever you want."

Rachel smiled a little sadly. She realised that the monogamous marriage had been blown away forever, but she was sure both Paul and herself could find a new kind of happiness with each other.

A few days later she was sitting in the lounge bar of a London hotel waiting for Paul. She looked at her watch. He was late. She looked up and caught the eye of a large man sitting at the bar. He had been there for some time and made no attempt to hide his interest in the solitary woman.

He raised his glass to her and Rachel gave a small nod of her head in acknowledgement. She had no intention of giving him the come-on, the movement being an involuntary response to his gesture. Too late she realised that the man interpreted her nod as a coded invitation. He rose from his stool and strolled towards her.

Paul entered the hotel bar with a light step. The general lighting was low, but each table had its own illumination. It was a pleasant ambience, with the configuration of the seats being a series of S shapes made out of a wooden frame topped by a trough full of flowers. The low, round tables were placed in the inside curves of the S, the troughs providing separation. Two thickly padded stools were set on the outside of the tables, whilst the main seating on the wooden S frame had deep and comfortable cushions.

Paul saw Rachel almost immediately. An attractive young woman sitting by herself enjoying a quiet drink. He found her extremely desirable and knew she would have that effect on many men. There was one now, heading in her direction, drink in hand. A big man, broad shouldered, with a swaggering walk. He smiled and gestured towards an empty stool at the woman's table. She nodded; he sat.

They began to talk - or, at least, he did. She smiled a little, shook her head, laughed. Paul was intrigued by the big man's technique; his own chat-up line had always been deficient. He had a facility for words, but written on paper (or rather, a word processor) and nursed an ambition to be a successful novelist. So far he had authored five books, all of which had been firmly rejected numerous times. Meanwhile, he made a good living by writing scripts for a long running TV soap, 'Cottingly'. It was on three times a week and employed four writers plus a script editor who made sure the storylines were kept going and jelled together.

Once a month there was a story conference held in the London headquarters of the TV production company. The writers and producers gathered together to kick ideas around and decide who was going to be responsible for a particular story line. The trip was always welcome as Paul spent nearly all his time at home, locked away in a small study, trying to find inspiration and keep his writing fresh.

When in London he always stayed at this hotel; it was central, comfortable and reasonably priced. Whilst not being a slave to drink, he made it a habit to get one in immediately he returned from the meeting. Tonight he was in for a special treat. Being a writer and a student of human nature, he was fascinated by seeing such an obvious attempt at a pick-up. Would the big man succeed?

Without getting a drink, Paul crossed the bar area and sat on the cushioned seat in the adjacent S bend. With only a few flowers between them, he was clearly able to hear the conversation.

"Over here for a conference." The big man had an American accent. "I'm in plastics."

"Really? How interesting." Rachel sounded as if she couldn't have cared less. "And what part of the U.S. are you from?"

"Atlanta."

"Ah, yes. The home of Coca Cola."

"Yeh." The man moved from stool to cushioned seat. "You know about that, huh?"

"I visited for a while."

"That's great. Say, your glass is empty. Let me get a refill."

"Oh no, thanks. One is my limit so early in the evening. There's a lot of drinking time to go before bedtime."

"Yeh." He moved closer still; one more move and he would be on her lap. "You a resident of this city, ma'am?"

"Do I look as old as that?"

"Beg pardon?"

"Do I look old enough to be designated as a 'ma'am'?"

"You sure don't." The American sounded enthusiastic. "Why, you're the best looking da....wom....lady in this bar."

Paul tried hard not to laugh.

The da....wom....lady looked around. "That's not saying a lot, is it? I'm the only one."

"No, I mean it." Now he sounded sincere. He was moving in for the kill. "You are dazzling."

"Thank you. No, I'm not."

He was lost. "Beg pardon?"

"In answer to your question. No, I'm not resident in this city. That's why I'm sitting in a hotel bar. I'm staying here."

"Well, what d'you know! So am I."

"What a coincidence."

"This is a big lonely town for a fella on his own."

"For a woman, too."

"Yeh." He placed his hand on hers. "The two of us should spend some time together."

"Um, maybe."

"I'm Harold Arlington the third. Friends call me Hal."

"Hello, Hal. I'm Rachel."

"What do you say we go up to my room? We could have a drink and get to know each other a little better."

"I rather thought you were hoping to get to know me very well; intimately, in fact."

"Hey, I like that." The American sounded impressed. "It's good that you're so up front. Know what you want and go for it."

"How could any girl resist such big shoulders and chest? They say size isn't everything, but if what's in your trousers compares with what I can see, that must be a sight to behold."

On the other side of the flowers, Paul was a trifle bemused by his wife's brazenness. It was not something he had expected.

The American's arm went round her and he lowered his voice, making Paul struggle to hear. He leaned further in the direction of the couple on the other seat, taking care to make sure he was still concealed by the plants.

"I'm not a guy to boast, but what I've got would fill your little pussy twice over."

"How interesting."

"I've got the hots for you right now. Feel if you like."

"In a public place?"

"Aw, nobody's watching." He took her hand and placed it on top of his flies. Straining at the material was a decidedly large and hard penis. "What do you think?"

"I'm supposed to get all of this inside me?" Rachel sounded slightly apprehensive.

"It'll stretch you a mite, I wager."

"I can't wait."

"Let's go."

He pulled her up, took her arm and walked her towards the lift. Paul was astounded by the turn of events; Rachel was actually allowing herself to be picked up in the most crude and obvious way. What should he do? What would she want him to do? Still uncertain he jumped up, rapidly crossed the foyer and caught up with the pair.

"Sorry I'm late, darling." He sounded breathless.

Rachel swung round, looked at him, then at Hal. Smiling, she gently disengaged her arm. "Too bad," she sighed. "May I introduce my husband. Paul, this is an American visitor from Atlanta. Harold Arlington."

"The third," Hal added, looking distinctly peeved.

"Pleased to meet you." They shook hands. "Shall we go, darling? We'll have to rush if we're going to have a meal and make the theatre in time."

Rachel smiled sweetly. "I'm sorry, Hal. I'll have to take a.....what do you Americans say?"

"Rain check."

"That's it."

"Rain check for what?" Paul enquired.

"We were going to Hal's room, darling. For a bit of fun. I got bored waiting for you and he offered excellent company."

"Did he now?"

"He also offered me the use of his nice big cock, so I thought I'd take him up on it. You've no objection, have you?"

"Well....."

"After all, you're always suggesting I try someone else to see how I liked it. This seemed a good opportunity."

"Yes, but....."

"Ah, so now you're changing your tune. It's all right as a fantasy, but the reality is too much for you."

"Not at all," Paul protested.

"Oh, good. So you don't mind if we carry on. I'll meet you later. We can always skip the meal; or you can have yours by yourself, if you like. I'm sure we'll be through in time for the theatre, won't we, Hal?"

The American looked completely bemused. "This guy's really your husband?"

"Oh, yes. For the past ten years."

"And he's happy to go away for a couple of hours while you ball another guy?"

Paul shook his head. "You can only have one hour if we're going to make the theatre. I want to see the play."

"What!" Hal was incredulous.

"And I'm not going anywhere. I want to watch my wife being shafted by somebody else."

"Good God!" Hal exclaimed.

"I've watched me doing it to her - in the mirror. I fancy looking at a different cock up her cunt."

"You really are being crude, darling," Rachel softly chided.

"Sorry. What do you say?"

Hal shrugged. "Okay by me. We could even share her."

"No, no. I want to watch, that's all."

Both men looked interrogatively at Rachel.

"As you please. Let's just get on with it. I'm as horny as hell."

They were all silent in the lift as it whisked them upwards. Rachel felt a little tremor of excitement as she stood sandwiched between her husband and the man who would soon be her lover.

"Anyone want a drink?" Hal enquired, as they entered his room.

Rachel shook her head. "Maybe - after."

"I'll sit here and be as quiet as a mouse." Paul settled into a small armchair facing the bed. "Forget all about me."

He waited in anticipation as his wife and her potential lover gazed at each other, neither quite certain of the next move.

"You look mighty pretty in that dress, honey." The American had a slow Georgia drawl. "But I'll wager you look a heap better when all your charms are revealed."

"Too true," said Paul enthusiastically.

"You're not here," Rachel retorted.

"Sorry."

She reached behind, pulled down the zip, dropped her dress and stepped out of it. The bra quickly followed, releasing her full, round breasts from their captivity. Rachel was wearing tights and she took them down at the same time as her panties, sitting on the end of the bed in order to remove them.

She slowly pivoted. "Do I meet your approval?"

"Yes, ma'am. You sure do."

Rachel reached out, unzipped his trousers and unfastened the belt. They fell around his ankles. Beneath them he wore brightly coloured shorts, which she pulled down, allowing his penis to spring up parallel to the floor. She ran her hand along its length.

"I didn't think a penis could be so big," she said wonderingly. "So long and wide." A thin trickle of her juices wound its way down her leg. "I want it inside me," she whispered.

"As you command."

Hal lifted her off her feet, swung her round and laid her on the bed in one smooth movement. She wrapped her legs round his barrel chest as he thrust into her. Paul gasped as he saw the huge penis disappearing into his wife's cunt. She cried out, whether in pain or ecstasy it was difficult to say.

"Yes, yes, yes!" she shouted.

The big American showed her no quarter, pumping faster and faster, his penis reaching for its climax. She writhed around, her legs tightly gripping his chest, whilst her hands clenched and unclenched on the cover of the bed.

"Yes, yes, yes! Aaaa!"

Hal shuddered and gasped as he emptied the contents of his penis into her in a seemingly never ending gush. He pulled out as soon as he was spent, though a few remaining globules of semen dripped onto the carpet. It was at this point that his penis should have dwindled away to nothing, its duty done, but there was no perceptible change in its firmness or size.

"You want more?" Hal pulled Rachel onto her feet.

"Yes, please." She sounded enthusiastic.

"Okay. Change positions."

Hal spread his big body out on the bed, lying on his back, with the proud male member stiffly standing to attention. Paul was full of envy, realising he could never compete with such magnificence. His wife was in for another treat when she took it back inside her.

She slowly worked her way up to it, kissing Hal's inner thighs, then his balls, before bringing her tongue to bear on his upright penis. There was still a mixture of his cream and her fruity juices clinging to the skin and as she licked a memory came of a young girl enjoying a lollipop. She always thought they were delicious; this was delicious, too.

Trying to curb her impatience to sink this wondrous cock into her vagina again, Rachel began kissing above it, working her way upwards. His chest was thickly matted with ginger hair which tickled her nose, but both nipples stood out free and clear. She sucked each in turn with her soft lips, feeling a slight squirming of his body in response to her delicate touch.

Kissing his neck and chin, she then prised his lips apart with her tongue and penetrated his mouth. After a long, deep kiss, he took both her breasts in his hands, pulled her towards him, and sucked on her teats, imitating the action of a baby. She was sitting astride his chest, her vulva lightly caressed by his ginger hair. The sensations created were too much.

Reaching behind she found his still hardened penis. Taking her weight onto her knees, she wriggled her bottom towards his groin until vagina lips and cock found each other. Leaning back, she sank down, the erect phallus pushing its way into the silky folds of her secret chamber. Secret no more, but invaded for the second time by this enormous, pulsating, rock-hard instrument of pleasure.

She rode it as if in a race that must be won; up, down, up, down, muscles contracting, determinedly stimulating and fanning the flame of its lustful need for release. Up, down, up, down; the object inside her was an inflexible, unyielding totem-pole that reached deep into her. Up, down, up, down; his body slammed against the mattress. Anybody listening next door could hear the obvious rhythm of wild and passionate intercourse.

Paul, silently watching from his chair, had been strong willed so far, but now he gave way to his own desire. Unzipping his flies, he pulled out his penis, as hard, but not as big as Hal's, and furiously began to masturbate. Rachel was riding up and down the stiff rod inside her and rubbing her clitoris, whilst Hal, in abandoned ecstasy, gripped her breasts so tightly she wanted to cry out with pain. Instead, her cries were those of triumph as the dam burst and they all climaxed together.

Within an hour Paul and Rachel were on their way to the theatre. They enjoyed the play. After a drink and light supper they retired to their room where they quickly undressed, had a shower, and then got into bed. Paul was already hard. He entered her.

"Altogether this has been a most satisfying evening," he murmured, as he pumped in and out.