It Seemed Like a Good Idea  4.2/5 (57)

“I really think we should try this idea,” I said to my wife. We were having our morning coffee before I left for work.

“Mike, it’s pointless,” she said. “There’s no way that kind of thing would interest me in the least.”

This idea that I was raising with my wife had been rolling around in my head for a long time. The problem, to say it straight out, was that after eight years of marriage, our sex life was pretty much non-existent. And the reason, as far as I was concerned, was really pretty simple.

Kathy just didn’t like sex.

Believe me, I didn’t know that when we got married. Sure, I knew she came from a conservative background, and while we were dating she always insisted that intimacy should be reserved for after our wedding. Maybe she was trying to fool herself, I don’t know. But the reality was that even after we became man and wife, the bedroom was generally an ordeal.

And it was particularly frustrating because as a package, a physical package of womanly sex appeal, Kathy was an absolute knockout. Her sandy blond hair, full pouty lips and hooded eyes turned heads everywhere she went. And her body, well let’s just say with her proud upturned breasts, firm heart-shaped ass and long supple legs Kathy was a real live walking erection maker.

Too bad, though, because nothing I tried in our lovemaking seemed to get her interested. It seemed like whenever I filled our bedroom with soft music and candlelight, Kathy would be distracted by the littlest things.

Like the time when we were passionately kissing, my hand just starting to caress her lovely nipple, when she looked up, exclaiming “What was that?”

“What? Jesus Christ,” I said.

“That tap, tap, tapping. It’s driving me crazy. I can’t make love with that noise going on. Go see what it is.”

I had been so engrossed I hadn’t heard a thing, but now, faintly, in the silence between us, I barely heard something. Something outside. An hour later, after searching with my flashlight all around the house, I saw that the metal strap holding one of our downspouts had become loose, and the metal downspout was rhythmically hitting the side of the house. After taking care of that, and coming back inside, I found Kathy sound asleep.

That kind of thing happened all the time. If it wasn’t the gutter, it was sirens from a far away fire truck or ambulance. Or she was too hot. Or cold. Or thirsty. Or the old proverbial headache, that came up a few times, too.

From time to time I would arrange for a romantic evening of dining and dancing. And I noticed that when we were out in public Kathy did seem to respond to the attention she always got from strange men. Nothing overt, but she was always exquisitely sensitive to the lustful gazes she would attract from men in the bar or restaurant.

And there was never any shortage of those. The attention seemed to give her a glow somehow, and when this happened I could always tell she got more affectionate toward me — she’d gaze at me softly, and reach over to touch my hand.

But by the time we got home the effect had worn off, and it was just more of the same.

So I guess I was getting desperate, when I made the suggestion.

“On Saturday, why don’t we get a room at the best hotel in town? And here’s what I have in mind. We’ll go to the Corcovado Lounge, you know that hot singles spot? You can wear your sexy black dress with the spaghetti straps. We’ll go in separately, and you can sit at the bar, while I get a seat maybe at the other end.”

“What are you talking about?” she said.

“You’ll be the hottest thing there, Kathy, I just know it. Guys will be hitting on you from the minute you sit down.”

“Your point?” she asked.

“Well, you could flirt and tease the guys at the bar. Make them think they have a chance with you. You know, use your imagination,” I said. “Get them all hot and worked up.”

“Why would I want to do that?”

“Then you can shut them down, and as you’re walking out of the place, I’ll follow you up to our room. Where we can make passionate love as you tell me all the details of what happened at the bar.”

“You’re nuts,” she said, succinctly.

“Really, honey,” I said. “I think this might be a good thing, you know, to help put some spice into our relationship.”

“Spice,” she said. “Is that what you call it? Me getting hit on by some stranger. And telling you all about it.”

“What harm can it do?” I asked. “And honey, you know you like it when you turn these guys on.”

“What are you talking about? Sure, it’s flattering to get someone’s attention, but that’s as far as it goes.”

I could tell there was just a hint of interest on her part, though she’d never admit it.

“This weekend,” I said. We’ll try it this once, and if it doesn’t work out, I won’t bring it up again.”

“Well…”

So after a lot of persuasion, Kathy reluctantly (or so she seemed) agreed to give my idea a try.

* * *

We walked into the dimly lit Corcovado, a place that specialized in hot Latin jazz. The bossa nova beat made its way out the front door, even when you couldn’t yet make out any melody.

Kathy was stunning in a silky black number that hugged her breasts and her ass. The low neckline showed off her tempting cleavage. She wore a slim gold chain, with her gold wedding ring as a pendant that nestled softly between her luscious breasts.

We walked in, hand in hand, I pointed to the bar, and nodded at the other side of the room where I’d be sitting.

“Are you sure about this?” she asked.

“Absolutely, baby. You’ve never looked hotter. And one other thing.”

“What’s that?” she said.

“I love you,” I smiled.

“Me too, honey,” she replied, as she swayed her way up to the bar. My wife. Boy, what a turn on she was.

“I’ll see you later,” I said. “We’ll have a nice talk and you can tell me all about your night.”

I walked across the room and got myself a small table right against the wall. I had a direct view of the bar, although the light in the room was low enough that I couldn’t really see the people at the bar in sharp detail.

Kathy hoisted herself on a bar stool, her black dress rising above mid thigh as she sat down. The bartender came over, and shortly she was sipping on a martini.

It didn’t take long. I knew it wouldn’t. Within just a few minutes a guy sat down at the bar right next to my wife. I couldn’t make out his face. He looked like he was about 6’2. I’d guess he worked out regularly, from his muscular appearance. Probably in his mid twenties. (Kathy is 30 and I’m 38). After a couple of minutes, they were facing each other, engaged in some kind of pleasant conversation.

And so it began. As I watched them talking, I had some time for some thinking. Thinking about how things had gotten to this point with my lovely wife and me. And hoping too. Hoping that this guy’s attentiveness would arouse Kathy sexually so that she’d be in mood for sex with me, her husband.

That was the plan, anyway. So I relaxed, had another drink, and a couple more, and tried to be patient. Listened to cool latin jazz.

Over the course of the evening a couple of other guys moved in, but the first guy seemed somehow to effortlessly box them out, and maintained his sole hold on my wife’s attention. As the drinks took their effect on her, her skin seemed to be glowing, and over the course of the evening this guy and Kathy seemed to imperceptibly move closer together. She’d reach out and touch his arm from time to time to make some conversational point.

His arm rested casually on the bar stool behind her. Now she leaned closer and moved his sandy hair back into place. Now he leaned closer, whispering in her ear, now kissing her lightly on the neck as she leaned her head back and giggled softly.

After a couple of hours, I started thinking it was nearing time for her to tell him goodnight, and we could head home together. I couldn’t wait to hear what all these whisperings were about. Maybe he was trying to get her to go home with him. Somehow I knew that had to be a turn on for her.

1 Comment

  • Lee

    Reply Reply August 11, 2020

    Have to say that your story was well written until the end. Perhaps you have another story about after, but I would want to know about you and Kathy moving forward. Up until the end it is a perfectly executed story. It was kind of like when you cum after a big build up. It is just over for us guys, for the most part. But girls can do so much more, and if this were real, I would want to know what happened to Kathy. How did your love for her evolve. Did you become a cuck, or did you manage to keep an even keel while knowing she could never again be “just for you.”

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