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The Fantasy of the 4 Cigarettes

By: Wordsworth2



My wife, Missy, and I play "sex games" to keep the spice in our marriage. Usually we will play some type of game, like backgammon, poker or gin to decide who gets to determine the game for the night. The winner gets his or her fantasy and is in control; the loser does what he/she is told and plays whatever role is assigned.

For the first several years we played these games, we kept the fantasy play to ourselves. If I won, I might tie Missy up, blindfold her, and touch her while we talked about fantasy play. My favorite fantasy was to talk about her making love to some other guy. When we play this fantasy, I make Missy act like she has been blackmailed into being the sex slave of some guy and really put her through her paces.

Missy was a little more creative than me. She liked to make me serve her, masturbate in front of her, and then service her orally until she came. Sometimes she would give me a mild spanking. I say "mild," but by the time the spanking was over, my bottom would be roundly red, and after the spanking proper, Missy would occasionally give me a "Booster Spank just to keep my color up. She used hand, hairbrush, spatula, wooden spoons, and the occasional rolled up magazine. It wasn't brutal, but it damn sure stung, and Missy seemed to take a very sexual delight in spanking my ass.

After she reddened me, the situation would usually end up with me giving Missy head. She would make me get on my hands and knees on top of her while I bent to lick her pussy. If I was not doing the job the way she liked it, Missy would give my sore ass additional whacks with her hand. It was a damn strong incentive to do a good job. When I brought Missy off, her orgasms were intense. It is fair to say that she played out her desires thoroughly when she won our competitions.

Overall, we have been fairly equal in who played Dominant or Submissive and frankly do a good job in whatever role fate assigned us to. I think we each possess personal characteristics that just naturally like the "control" type play. Missy is a Domestic Relations Attorney, and she is famous for her ball-busting style. She dominates the courtroom and is ruthless. I think that something inside her creates a need to have submissive times when she is away from work -- maybe just to make up for her dominating attitude at work.

Last month marked a turning point in our games. We had been fussing and fighting over a variety of little things for several weeks. It was petty shit, but it was the type of thing that destroyed closeness and created a lot of resentment. We hadn't made love for almost a month. We hadn't even kissed.

One night after dinner, fed up with the whole situation [and damned horny], I suggested to Missy that we play a sex game. I told her that it might work to clear the air and at least it would be a positive step towards healing our differences. Missy thought about the offer for some time before she responded. "That's fine with me, but I want to warn you that when I win, I intend to put you through your paces like never before. Are you willing to play this game to the fullest?"

I was feeling rather combative and told her that I was not the problem. She was the one who would back off when I won the game. Amidst this hostility, we started the game. We chose backgammon for the competition. One game. Winner controls. Loser does what the winner says for 24 hours. Basically, the winner has his or her way with the loser.

Peeved as I was at Missy for her recent actions and attitude, I recognized that she was equally peeved at me. I knew from the start that the loser would have hell to pay. I just prayed to win, because I wanted to take control over Missy and make her pay for her bitchiness.

The game started. Missy is not only a smart backgammon player, but she rolled like a magician. She soon had a large advantage on the board, and recognizing it, she started taunting me. "Tonight, you're going to learn to admit you are wrong. I am going to spank your little bottom until you cry for mercy. I'm going to tie you up and wear you out." Being significantly behind in the game, I didn't say a word. Frankly, I was worried about being at her mercy. I had hoped matters would turn out differently.

We reached the stage where one good roll would make Missy a winner. "I hope you're not going to welch on the bet," she smirked. I told her that I was not a welcher and would pay my debts if I lost. She smiled and walked away from the backgammon board and went to the basement. She returned with a Ping Pong paddle. One of the old sandpaper ones. "This sure is going to sound good smacking off your ass." Missy needed only a 3 and a 4 to go out. She rolled what could have been the final roll. She got a 1 and a 2 and had to leave two tiles vulnerable.

Being hopelessly behind, I had set up a back game. When Missy's digits became exposed, I prayed for a good roll. I got it, landing on both her men. She had to move them to the back of the board.

I smiled. "The game's not over yet." The game and her luck seemed to change at that point. It took her over six rolls to even get back on the board and I would hit her exposed man every time the opportunity was there. Soon we were down to two men each. Missy was not looking nearly as happy or as confident as she had before. I had a chance to win the game with a roll of 3 or better on each die. I rolled double 5's. Overkill. I removed my last men from the board and smiled at Missy. "I win, you lose. I think I'm in control -- anything I say -- that is, unless you want to show your true character and back out."

Missy positively glared at me. She is very competitive and frankly is a good sportsman. She said, "I know how to pay my debts, too. What's it going to be? Tie me up and talk about other guys fucking me?"

Well, that had happened often enough in the past and very well might have been my plan, except for my thinking about that ping pong paddle and her bitchy attitude earlier. Remember, Missy and I had not fucked for over a month. I was beside myself with horniness, and though Missy often downplayed her sexual aptitude, I suspected she would love a good orgasm. Man or woman, horniness can lead to control. I had decided to up the ante and see how far Missy would take it.

I looked at Missy and said, "Not tonight, dear. I believe I have control for 24 hours and you are supposed to do anything I say. Are you up to it, or are you going to back out?"

My Wife looked at me boldly. "Have at me. Do your worst. When I lose, I pay my debts. Who do you want me to pretend is fucking me tonight? My boss? The neighbor? How about your best friend? You start it and I'll finish it."

Missy did not yet know that I was designing far more elaborate plans for her this evening. She had been a bitch to me lately, even through our game, and she had made clear her nasty intentions if she won. She had lost, though, and I was in charge. I decided to take our game to a new level. "Go to the bedroom," I ordered "take off all of your clothes and sit on the end of the bed. I'll be up in a minute."

She smiled. This was how our fantasies often began. She went to the bedroom. I sat for a moment and thought about whether I was really up to doing what I had in mind. It was a close decision, and I wasn't at all sure how it might impact our marriage. I thought about a tamer approach. While thinking, my eyes went to the ping pong paddle. Missy had planned on wearing me out; that was her fantasy: to control and punish her husband. That decided me. I went to the bedroom.

As instructed, Missy was sitting naked on the bed. I looked at her appreciatively. Missy is a petite redhead, about 5'2", with a lovely body. Her breasts were average for her size, about a 34B+. She had a lovely, "girl next door" kind of face and one of the most shapely rear ends I had ever encountered. Her pubic thatch was bright red, matching her hair, but sparse like a young girl's. Her most striking feature nude, though, were her nipples.

Missy has large, "pencil eraser" nipples and they were almost always hard and had been since I first met her. It was those nipples poking through a bathing suit that had initially attracted her to me. Now, at 29, she almost always wore a bra despite my protests to the contrary. I had missed seeing her erect nipples through fabric.

Even better, my wife had the most sensitive nipples I had ever encountered. It was like two "G-spots" on the ends of breasts. She was an absolute slave to her nipples, and more than once I had brought her to orgasm just by nibbling, tweaking, pinching and kissing her nipples. During one of our private sex talks, Missy had confided to me that she had to be real careful in high school to keep guys from getting to "second base." Once they got there, she was theirs for anything -- if they knew how to work the situation.

Missy looked cooly at me. "Well, what's it going to be? Am I too much for you to handle? Let's get it over with."

I smiled at her. "My dear Wife, even now you try to control the situation. It's not going to work. I've got about 23 hours to do what I want to, and I intend to take my time and savor every moment. There's no hurry. Now get up and get dressed."

She looked up, surprised. "Dressed. Why?"

I smiled, "You'll find out. I took her to her closet. I rummaged through her clothes, looking for the outfit I knew was still there. I found it. It was a lime green minidress, cut about 5" above the knee. The top was V-necked, but not particularly risque. What I loved about the dress was that the fabric clung like a second skin to Missy and made her curves and her nipples seem extra prominent. "Put that on," I instructed. "With your garter belt, stockings and heels. Nothing else."

"Want to help dress me, big boy?" Missy said as she slipped on the clothing as instructed. I was getting more excited, because my wife had no idea of what I had planned for her. I made her go to the bathroom, fix her hair and instructed her to put on makeup slightly heavier than she normally wore.

When Missy came out of the bathroom, I almost came. She was as sexy a woman as I had ever seen. Her curly red hair hung to her shoulders. Her makeup gave her just the right amount of the 'slutty' look. Her nipples stood out against a dress that gripped her sexy petite body.

"Alright, Stud," she said in Mae West style. "Ready to rip it off of me?"

I just smiled and said, "Let's go downstairs." She looked puzzled, but complied. Downstairs, I went to the coat closet and got Missy's coat. "We're going out," I informed her.

She looked shocked. "Out? I'm not going out dressed like this." Missy had not even put on the lime mini for several years, claiming she had "outgrown it."

I grinned at her. "How the mighty have fallen. Welching on a bet. I expected more from you."

Missy's attitude faltered, and she said, "Where do you have in mind?"

"Franklin's, of course." Franklin's is the ultimate local meat market. It is a yuppie type place, and both the men and the women who went there had only one thing on their mind. It was our city's most renown pickup place, attended by those who were looking and planned to score. Missy had never been there and had always bitched about the place. "That's the bar where sluts and bimbos hang out."

Missy looked at me. "So that's what you want for your victory. To embarrass me in front of a bunch of guys. To show me off?"

At that point, I was fed up. I looked at my Missy and said, "Missy, I won the game. Either you pay off or you don't. I'm tired of the sass and the bitching. If you're in, then let me know. If you aren't going to pay your bet, let me know. It says a lot about you and your real character, you know. Honorable when it suits you. Frankly, I've been expecting you to back out."

Missy glared at me angrily. She is competitive, and she doesn't like her character questioned. She smiled, "Okay, Honey, you won the bet. Whatever you say. I won't say another word."

I wanted to get the ground rules straightened out. "Let's make sure we understand each other. I have won. You are going to do anything I say, no matter what it is. You will play any role I say. I will have my way with you, and you will do anything I say, without your damn bitching. I don't care what it is. If I tell you to strip and walk down Main Street, you will do it. If I tell you to masturbate in front of Town Hall, you will do it." I paused. "If I tell you to fuck a stranger on the street, you will do it. If I want other people to have their way with you, you will let them. I am in absolute control. You lost. You pay the bet to the winner, if you have the guts. Now, do we have an agreement?"

Missy had clearly been ready to agree until that last part involving 'other people.' She looked at me quizzically and said, "What do you mean 'other people.?"

I laid it on the line. "Missy, when I say other people, I mean any damn body, male or female, living or dead, real or fictional that I may want to involve in my fantasy. It shouldn't matter to you. It's a simple question: do you pay your bet -- fully, as I determine -- or did you lie when we started the game and plan to play only if you won?"

If there is anything Missy hates being called, it is a liar. She responded instantly and angrily. "Fine, now I understand. I pay my bets."

I smiled and said, "Then let's go."

Missy, though, wasn't finished. I can handle any damn thing or any damned body you throw at me. It might be a refreshing change for the better!" That pissed me off. Further resolved, I said, "We'll see."

We were just putting on our coats when the front doorbell rang. I moaned, amazed the God of Bad Timing would ruin this moment for me. Worse, when I went to the door, it was Karen, one of Missy's best friends, with her husband Mike. We often did things as couples, though I couldn't stand Karen. She was a strong feminist type, and we could never seem to agree on anything. I also thought she was a real bitch to her husband. Mike was a good guy, one of those "let's get along" type people who always saw that everyone had a good time.

When we opened the door, Karen got a good look at Missy in her dress and said, "OHHH La La. What's going on here?" Missy looked a little embarrassed and said to Karen, "I'll tell you about it later." I figured she would. Karen and Missy seemed to keep no secrets about each other. I decided then and there to create a situation so humiliating that Missy would not dare relate it to Karen.

I looked at Karen. "Wish we could stay and talk, but we're just getting ready to leave." Ignoring me, Karen barged right in the house. "Where are we going," she cooed.

I tried to be nice. "Wish you could come along, but this is one of those Husband-Wife nights. If we don't leave soon, we'll be late for our dinner reservation."

Karen said, "Alright, you win. Get us a beer for the road and we're on our way. We know when we're not wanted." As usual, she made herself at home and walked into the kitchen to get a beer.

I looked at Mike, but I couldn't make eye contact. His eyes were glued to Missy's chest. Her nipples were the most notable erections in three counties; they were really highlighted by the tight clingy material of her dress. It's one of the favorite sights for any guy. Inspiration struck, and I gave Missy a hug and whispered in her ear: "I want you to flirt with Mike. Find some excuse to hug him. Make him think you're interested. I expect you to kiss him at least once. And you will not refuse any advance he makes." Without waiting for any reply, I looked up and excused myself to help Karen with the beers.

I went to the kitchen and engaged Karen in one of our "chilly but cordial" discussions. Karen seemed surprised by the conversation. Usually we never talked beyond token pleasantries. She kept inquiring about what was going on and why Missy was dressed like "a slutty barfly." I feigned innocence, like I didn't know what she was talking about.

Then, Karen surprised me. She looked at me and said, "You know, Missy's been a real bitch lately. I know she has to me, and I'm pretty certain she has to you. She's been treating me like I'm hired help instead of a friend, and I'm over it. Is your sex life sucking, or what?"

I was nonplused. Karen and I never talked this intimately, and I didn't know how to respond or how much to tell her. I decided that discretion was the better part of valor. "Well, we sure haven't been acting like newlyweds, but what married couple does. I promise I'm working on the problem, though."

Karen smiled. "I hope so...and I hope you know that occasionally, Missy needs someone to control her. Just some friendly advice. If you ever need help in that project, by the way, please give me a call. I assure you I can be of some assistance." Karen winked at me. I wanted to inquire further what she meant, but Karen turned and walked towards the living room. I followed her. Looking at my watch, I saw that Karen and I had been talking for almost twenty minutes. Our longest conversation ever!

We walked back into the living room. Karen stopped abruptly in the doorway. Looking over her shoulder, I saw Missy hugging Mike. It was more than a friendship hug. Mike's right hand was rubbing the top of Missy's ass. His left hand couldn't be seen, but it was somewhere on her front. Karen said loudly, "Now that's what I call a hug."

Mike looked up guiltily and stepped away from Missy. I noticed that his breath was short and Missy's face was flushed a bright red.

"Am I interrupting something?" Karen asked rather strongly. Mike muttered, "Just a friendly hug between friends." Missy looked at Karen and said, "For god's sake, Girlfriend. Can't your best friend hug your husband?" Karen's face relaxed somewhat. "Kind of like one of the hugs that J.P. would like to give you?" she smiled.

We all chuckled. J.P. was a guy at work who was absolutely smitten with Missy. It was sort of a joke. He was a nerdy type, though nice, and he went out of his way to cater to the every need of Missy. Missy was not especially sensitive to his feelings and took every opportunity to flame his advances. She looked at Karen. " I think J.P. wants more than a hug. That's what makes rejecting him so much fun. I'll bet he jacks off every night thinking about me...poor guy." Everybody laughed, and Karen took Mike's arm, gave a queer stare, and they said farewell.

I noticed as Mike left, he gave a backward glance to Missy that was different from any I had seen him give her. I didn't notice her response, though, because the conversation about J. P. had given me a very evil idea. Missy had told me on more than one occasion that J.P. was a jerk, but she liked to give him an occasional flirtatious look and keep him hanging. She absolutely tormented the poor guy. I told Missy to get her coat on while I made one quick phone call. The call took a bit longer than I had anticipated, and when I returned Missy was ready at the door. We got in the car and headed for Franklin's.

On our way to Franklin's, I asked Missy what had happened with Mike. She replied that she had flirted with him a little, asking him how he liked her in the dress. She said she had coyly put her hands behind her back like a schoolgirl and this made her breasts, and the prominent nipples, stick out even more. Mike had surprised her when he said, "It makes me want to touch you." Missy had tried to defuse the remark and said, " Well, let me give you a hug." She had reached out to give him a friendly hug, as she had done so many times before.

This time, Mike had surprised her. As she approached him, he took her two hands and put them behind her back, then held them securely with his left hand. He took his free right hand and slowly moved it towards her breast. Missy said that she did not try to free her hands.

Then Mike cupped his hand over her breast. He squeezed her breast then pulled his hand away. Then he gently scraped his fingernails over the very tip of her nipples, teasing first one and then the other. Of all the nipple maneuvers in the world, this one drives Missy the craziest. Still using his right hand, Mike then tweaked her nipples, again alternately, and it drove Missy crazy.


The Fantasy of the 4 Cigarettes



Missy had started to pull away, but she remembered my admonition about "not refusing any advance." She was also enjoying the feelings because her nipples are absolutely control centers. When you start touching her nipples, Missy truly becomes putty.

Mike must have sensed this. He released the hands behind her back while still touching her nipples with both hands. When Missy started to move her hands, Mike had ordered: "Keep them behind your back." He punctuated the remark by pinching Missy's nipple. Missy said that was the first time she moaned. She did as Mike instructed and clasped her hands behind her back. This would have happened about 10 minutes into my conversation with Karen, and that conversation lasted over twenty minutes.

During the next 10 minutes, Missy related, Mike worked on her nipples like a craftsman. He had turned Missy so that her back was to the kitchen. Her front was to Mike, though, and he fully enjoyed the offering. Mike used one hand on each breast, with most of the attention on the nipples. He touched them and stroked them and pinched them and flipped them back and forth and pulled them, still on the outside of her dress.

I asked Missy how she liked the feelings and she gave me a dirty look. "You guess. It was my nipples. I couldn't believe it was Mike touching them. He was driving me fucking crazy." Missy said that finally, she couldn't stand it any longer. She had reached out and grabbed Mike's hands to stop the teasing.

At this point, she said, Mike stood back and looked at her. She said that he didn't act anything like the guy she knew. He firmly said, "Missy, put your hands back behind you now." Missy said she slowly dropped her hands to her side. "Now!" he repeated. Missy locked hands behind her back, again thrusting out her breasts. Mike then said, "Hold them farther back." Missy stuck her locked hands even further behind her. She said her boobs were sticking out like ice cream scoops on a plate...topped with very large cherries.

Apparently, Mike then reached out and very slowly pulled down the top of Missy's dress, revealing her bare breasts. Missy said she looked at him and said, "Mike, what the hell are you doing." He never said a word. He just continued to play with her nipples. He had apparently been doing that for most of the time I was in the kitchen with Karen.

Frankly, I was proud of Mike and glad he had done what he had done. I reached across the car and slid my hand between my Wife's thighs, up to her bare crotch. I easily slipped a finger inside. She was wet, slick, and warm. I played with her clit, taunting her gently. "It seems Mike had some effect." She turned her head away. I removed my hand from her clit. She shifted slightly, as if missing the touch.

I smiled. "Hang in there, Honey, this night is still young and I have more than twenty hours of plans for you." With that, we pulled into a vacant space at the rear of Franklin's parking lot. At that moment, for the first time, I let my lovely Wife know for the first time the fantasy that we were about to act out.

At Franklin's

"Well, we're here. Are you ready to show me off?" said Missy. Her delivery irritated me. "I guess you want to see other guys stare at my body then go home and fuck me while you think about it. Let's do it. I can show off with the best of them."

I looked at Missy. "No, Dear Wife who has been such a bitch to me for this last month. It's a little more than that." Then I told her the scenario I had chosen.

"We are going to play a game called "the Fantasy of the Four Cigarettes." It works like this. I am going into Franklin's first. I will find a table near the bar."

I then reached in the back seat of a car and pulled out a bag. From the bag, I removed a bottle of Merlot, already opened and recorked, and a crystal wine glass.

"You have fifteen minutes to finish this bottle of wine. Every drop. In exactly fifteen minutes, you come inside and sit at the bar. While you are there, you must smoke four cigarettes. In order to get these cigarettes, you must ask some guy at the bar for a cigarette and get him to light it for you."

Missy interrupted. "I don't smoke cigarettes. You know I hate cigarette smoke." It was true. Missy was one of those complainers who would tell a smoker to put it out because it bothered her. She had a very low opinion of girls who smoked. That made it even more delightful to me.

I stared at her evenly. "You do tonight. And you have to get the four cigarettes from four different guys. When you have done this, I will come to the bar and light a fifth cigarette for you. When you have smoked the fifth cigarette, we will leave."

Missy stared at me. "That's all? You just want to see me smoke cigarettes at a bar?"

"Not exactly. There are a few rules. #1, You will not refuse the advances of any guy who gives you a cigarette. From the time you ask for a cigarette until he has lit it and you have smoked it completely, and gotten a light on your second cigarette, you will let the guy who lit your cigarette do anything with you he wants. You will not refuse a pass. Oh, and Rule #1A, if the guy touches your nipples, you will tell him, "God, that drives me crazy." Once you have finished one guy's cigarette, you will go to another guy and repeat the process. Then it is that guy's turn.

Rule #2, you will dance every slow dance. If no one asks you to dance, you will ask someone. While you are dancing, you are a "No No" girl. That means you will say "No" to nothing. The guy dancing with you can do anything he wants with you, have his way with you, and you do not resist.

Rule #3, you are not to leave the club with anyone, but inside the club anything goes. Basically, I expect you to come off as an easy, hot slut. Now do you understand the fantasy?"

Missy looked at me, and despite her surface glare of resentment, I could tell that there were aspects of the situation which excited her. Her nipples were stiff. I don't think she ever thought I would actually ever take our sex games to a point of involving other guys. Now that she faced that reality, she did so with mixed emotions. She smiled at me.

"I think I can handle that fantasy, dear Husband. Do you think you can?"

"It's my fantasy. Seeing you give up control to other guys is something that I will love to watch. Oh, it's going to be great fun for me. And I'm glad the easy lawyer slut who is getting ready to smoke cigarettes and dance with strangers agrees. No, Missy, I don't think I'll be the problem."

Missy looked apprehensive for a moment, but then, competitive to the end, said, "We'll see. Let's do it. Go on in. Except for one thing..." she looked at the wine and said, "I can't drink all that in fifteen minutes. No way. I'd pass out."

Missy's tolerance for alcohol is as low as the sensitivity of her nipples is high. The alcohol, though, was an important part of the set up for me. It was my fantasy, and I was going to craft and direct it. I wanted her coming into Franklin's with liquor on her breath and a stumble in her walk. "Drink it all. Fifteen minutes. Every minute late gets you a swat on the ass later...with a certain sandpaper ping pong paddle you may recognize."

"Fine, fuck you, I'll drink the damn stuff," Missy retorted.

I looked at her. She was a hot looking woman, dressed almost obscenely but still trying to act and feel in control of the situation, even though it was my fantasy. It wasn't her call. "Oh, and one more thing," I said. "Over my lap."

She asked me just what the hell I meant by that remark. I replied, "Missy, bend over my lap. I am going to give you a bottom to match your hair color." She glared at me, but slowly positioned herself over my lap. My car has bucket seats, and it was a tough maneuver for her.

As she crouched there, doggy style, I pulled her shoulders down so that her ass stuck higher in the air. She initially resisted then went with the pull. Once I had her over my knees, I pulled up her dress to expose her buttocks. Under the green dress, Missy was wearing light blue bikini panties. I pulled them down and rubbed her ass. I couldn't help reminding her of the situation. "My, Missy, what a nice ass. Allow the winner to warm it up for you. Rhythmically, without any hurrying, I began spanking her with my bare hand. For the first 6 or 7 swats, Missy was stoic. Challenged, I intensified the spanks and blasted her an additional ten strokes. By the end of these, Missy was squirming and moaning. I pulled her dress back down. "Hot buns for the hot bitch," I told her. "Oh, and one last thing."

I reached out and grasped each nipple between my thumb and fingers. I tweaked and kept tweaking. I didn't say a word, I just played with her prominent nipples. After a couple of minutes, Missy was writhing. She moaned with pleasure. I reached inside the dress and flipped both of her nipples at the same time, keeping it up for several minutes. She was so turned on that she reached up to grab my hands and said, "I can't stand that." I smiled and ordered her to pull her dress down. She did, revealing puffy engorged nipples. I reached for them and squeezed once on the bare flesh. Missy moaned. I kissed them then, running my tongue lightly over the end of the eraser tips. Missy was grinding on the seat.

Then I pulled back and said, "I think you're warm enough. Now, pull up your dress and start drinking. I'll see you inside in fifteen minutes."

I left the car with the words "You asshole" ringing in my ears.

Inside

I was fortunate to get a table in Franklins that gave me an unobstructed view of the bar. It was almost full, and the few seats remaining were between guys who were obviously on the lookout for a woman. I wondered where Missy would sit and if any of the guys around her would sense the situation and take advantage of it. I didn't have long to wait.

Missy entered the bar at the prescribed time. I rode the tide of eyes that locked on her. She was a centerpiece. The light green dress was a second skin. Her braless nipples poked forth through the thin material and her beautiful ass was fully outlined.

She looked around and then chose a seat at the bar between two very different guys. The one on her right was a jock type, large, casually dressed and rather drunk. The guy to her left was short, dressed in a suit, and quite animated. They ogled Missy as she ordered a drink.

With my vantage point, I could tell exactly what happened next. Missy turned to the jock and asked for a cigarette. I could see the jock making motions that indicated he didn't smoke. Neither did Missy normally. The short guy in the suit had been observing what was going on. He tapped Missy on the shoulder and pulled out a cigarette, offering it to her. Missy was forced to turn her attention to this guy and she took a cigarette from him. He held a light out for her. As she leaned forward for the light, he put a hand on her thigh, just near the hem of her dress.

My wife did not make a move to refuse the advance, and the guy lightly rubbed her thighs a couple of times. Missy accepted the light from the guy, took a drag from the cigarette and promptly coughed. It startled the short guy, and he pulled his hand of her leg. I was laughing to myself, watching my wife, the anti-smoker, sitting with a cigarette in her hand and trying to smoke it. Frankly, it was damn hot to me.

Missy's coughing spell seemed to unsettle her companion. He did not make any more advances, and I was wondering whether he had missed a chance when the music of a slow dance came over the speakers. Missy was almost finished with her first cigarette when the music started, and I could see her brow furrow when the short guy put his hand on her arm and motioned towards the dance floor. She had almost gotten away with the first cigarette untouched. I saw her nod. As they walked to the dance floor, her partner put his arm on her back and started stroking lightly. Apparently his courage was returning.

A feature of Franklin's that contributes to its popularity as a pickup place is the "Eclipse." Franklin's always plays two slow songs consecutively. As the music plays, a large light globe over the dance floor slowly dims. This continues until it the light is totally off. The dance floor is so dark during the total Eclipse that the bodies on the dance floor are virtually indistinguishable. Needless to say, the Eclipse dances are a time when couples get better acquainted. After total eclipse, the globe slowly lights again until the dance floor is bright again. A lot of dancers have failed to notice the waning of the eclipse and have been caught in very uncompromising positions. Trying to see what the dancers are doing is a favorite pastime of the crowd not dancing.

and when he saw she did not remove his hand, the guy got bolder.

He moved his hand more towards the inside of my Wife's thigh and pulled his bar stool closer to hers. They started to talk, and I noticed his hand moving in circles on Missy's leg. She did not resist. She continued to smoke her cigarette as he removed his hand and placed it on her shoulder. He was rubbing her neck and shoulder when a slow song was played. He took her to dance.

The first song was "Stand by Me," and Missy's partner stood very close to her. In the full light, I could see his hand tracing along her back, doing the old guy trick of seeing whether she had a bra on or not. Personally, I thought it was apparent from her protruding nipples that no fabric stood between Missy's tits and her dress. As the globe started moving towards eclipse, Missy's companion was letting his hands roam with more abandon over her back.

The Eclipse was approaching, and I did not want to miss a minute of the action on the floor. I asked a plain looking, rather overweight girl near me to dance and guided her onto the floor near Missy. The dance floor was dark, but I was close enough to see that the short guy was totally over his shyness. He was not wasting his opportunity.

He had pulled Missy close to him and was rubbing and squeezing her butt like he owned it. Where once he had held one of Missy's hands, he now had both of his hands behind her. Her hands were around his neck. He ran his hands from her ass to the top of her thighs and then down her legs. He kissed the side of her neck. Missy never resisted, but she did not seem very happy.

"Stand by Me" turned into "Tears of a Clown," and Missy's backside continued to get explored. For some reason, her partner never put his hands on her tits. I guess he was an ass man, but I chortled thinking of the chance he was missing. I wondered how many times in my past I had let a golden opportunity slip by unnoticed.

The lights slowly came back on. When the song ended, Missy's partner had thoroughly explored her ass, but that was as far as he had gone. He had never even touched her breasts. "What a fool," I thought as they sat down. By now, Missy's first cigarette was finished. The guy offered her another one, but she just reached out and shook his hand. She basically snubbed the guy from then on while she looked around the bar.

Shortly after that, she left and moved to the opposite side of the bar between two other guys.

These guys fell over themselves looking at Missy and each offered her a cigarette. My wife made a scene of trying to decide which offer to take and then opted for a cigarette and light from a rather tall, stocky guy. As the other suitor smiled and made a gesture saying "You Win," the tall guy lit Missy's cigarette. Missy leaned back and took a puff on the cigarette. This time she didn't cough. I got a jolt of perverse pleasure watching her smoke.

The big guy ran his eyes over her body, paying special attention to her boobs. I was surprised when he grabbed her hand as she was preparing to inhale another puff. He stopped her, put his hand behind her head, and pulled her lips to him. He proceeded to give her a long, lingering kiss, right there at the bar in front of everyone. Missy didn't resist.

When he finally broke the kiss, Missy started to pull back. The guy put his right hand behind her head and pulled her forward kissing her again. Tongue was visible from my vantage point over fifteen feet away. I was surprised to see his left hand, right there at the bar, reach out and encircle my Wife's right boob. From my vantage point, I could see him squeezing and pinching her excited, engorged bud. He kept this up for several seconds. When he pulled away, he kind of sat back, smiled and gave a confident, triumphant stare at Missy.

Missy was clearly aroused, and her right nipple was even more prominent than her left. The big guy gave Missy this smug smile and put his hand on her leg. He seemed to exert a bit of pressure, and Missy spread her legs a bit in response.

About this time, the band announced that the crowd was too boring and they were going to "warm things up" with another eclipse. The big guy stood up and motioned Missy towards the dance floor. She followed. As they walked out to dance, I [and everyone else] could see his hand run smugly over her rear end. Missy's face was as red as her hair. "Feeling like a Franklin's slut?" I wondered. There was a pleasurable sensation in my dick, like a phantom blow job. I loved seeing my bitchy wife in this situation. I hoped she was humiliated.

I quickly found a dance partner so I could get close and see what was happening. This time, it wasn't even subtle. The lights were still fully bright, "Love Me Tender" was just beginning and a brawny, six foot something guy reached around his partner, put one hand on each ass cheek and pulled her to him. He turned Missy so her back was to the bar and gloated over her shoulder to the guys sitting there. They were loving it. The petite redhead with the big nipples was slut city.

Missy, was not loving her situation. Years of marriage give insight into every look, and Missy's look said she knew she had made a mistake. As the lights started to dim, I watched her partner take his hand away from groping her ass and swat her cheek rather firmly. Missy jumped and I remembered the spanking in the car. I figured her ass must still be a little sore. I was ashamed of myself for enjoying the scene so much.

As the total eclipse approached, "Love Me Tender" ended and "Treat Her Like A Lady" started. I had to maneuver my partner closer to see what was going on. What I saw gave me an instant hard on. Missy's partner was certainly not treating her like a lady.

They had stepped apart momentarily when the first dance ended. Now, the big guy was standing in front of my wife with his hand in front of his chest, palms outward, about the height of my Wife's breasts. They looked like catcher's mitts waiting for a fast ball. He crooked one finger and beckoned Missy to come forward. She hesitated.

I swung my partner close to them, almost bumping into Missy. Even in the light of the nearing eclipse, she caught my eye and my taunting smile. I moved my partner some more and ran a hand over her bottom. I danced away and looked back at Missy.

Her cocksure companion hadn't caught the exchange. He was still slowly beckoning. Other dancers were watching to see what would happen. Finally, Missy began to slowly move forward until her tits were inches from his hands. She put her arms around his neck and came forward, pushing first her nipples and then her tits in his waiting hands.

For a moment, the stocky guy didn't move any part of his body except his hands and fingers. He brazenly squeezed Missy's full breasts, cupping them, lifting them, moving them around. Then he reached out with his thumb and forefinger and tweaked her nipples. I faintly saw Missy stiffen, and I wondered if she had remembered Rule 1 A, to respond, "that drives me crazy." I saw her say something to the guy and he smiled and then really went to town on her nipples. As the total eclipse arrived, my wife's partner was basically leading her around the dance floor by her two protruding buds.




The Fantasy of the 4 Cigarettes



It was an amazing sight. This big guy whom I and Missy had never met, danced my wife around with the only contact between him and my wife that of his hands on her nipples. Missy was clearly going out of her mind. She pushed against the guy, but he kept her away, focusing only on her nipples. She finally couldn't take it anymore and she reached up to pull his hands away.

At that, the big guy bent over and said something in her ear. I don't know what he said, but I watched as my Wife slowly dropped her hands to her sides, leaving her breasts available. He whispered something else, and I watched Missy slowly clasp her hands behind her back. I remembered Missy's story about Mike making her do the same thing and determined that this was something I was going to have to try with her. Seeing her vulnerable and available like that was one hell of a turn on.

With Missy's hands behind her, her tits were totally available and her partner took full advantage. While his hands were busy playing with her tits as if they owned them, he reached forward and began kissing Missy.

He put his hands on her shoulders and ever so slowly slipped then back to her breasts. He squeezed her whole breasts for a moment then went back to just her nipples. I could see him gently rub the very tip of her buds. When he reached to kiss her, still squeezing the nips, Missy almost swallowed him.

I maneuvered my partner closer to the action. The guy had taken hold of Missy's hands which were still behind her back. While he held them, he moved his free hand from one breast to the other, teasing and tweaking. Missy's breath was clearly ragged.

The globe began brightening and I could see the look on my wife's face. Missy's eyes were glazed with passion. She was breathing like she had run a marathon. She reached out to put her arms around him, but he again placed them behind her back.

At that point, the big guy decided to explore. While still tweaking Missy's left nipple with his right hand, he dropped his left hand down across her stomach and on down until he grabbed her pussy through her dress. When the guy's hand touched her pussy, Missy moaned so loudly that other couples noticed what was going on. The big guy seemed oblivious to this and Missy didn't care. He ran his hand under her skirt and pulled it up as he reached for her pussy. It wasn't hard to tell when he had found his target.

Missy jumped like she had been shot. The big guy's right hand continued to tease her nipple. His left hand moved furiously under her skirt, and Missy's reactions left little doubt as to where it was touching. He continued this play for the last minute of the second song. I had never ever in my life seen my Wife so excited.

I was damned excited too and unconsciously grinding against my partner. She seemed to like the feeling and ground back. She didn't know that my excitement was from seeing my wife held spellbound with passion, submissive to the advances of a stranger.

Then I noticed the guy's hand moving more furiously and I saw Missy throw her head back. It was clear she was coming, right there on the dance floor. She tried to muffle the sounds but was not totally successful. The women on the dance floor looked away embarrassed; the men looked at my Wife with desire. The big guy pulled Missy close to him and said something to her. She just nodded and they walked away from the floor towards the restrooms. I wanted to see what was going on and took my partner back to her seat. By the time I got to where they had headed, my wife and the big guy had disappeared.

It was almost thirty minutes later when I again spied my wife. She was walking back towards the bar. She sported that "just fucked and just fucked again" look. The big guy was beside her. As he walked her to the bar, he kissed her deeply and then left. Missy looked dazed as she took a seat at the bar, still two cigarettes short of her mission.

Missy sat down to a captive audience. Several of the guys there had witnessed her actions with the last guy, and they knew a good opportunity when they saw one. They jostled vigorously among themselves offering her a cigarette. At this point, Missy looked at me. She gave me a strange smile. She looked at the guys around her and laughed and flirted with them all. Then she made a big show of pointing her finger around until it came to rest on her choice.

I was amazed at the guy she had chosen. Of all the guys around her, he was the worst dressed. He was about 25, slim and short. He had a Hispanic look to him. The guy made a big ceremony to the other guys, like he had just been chosen king. He gave Missy a cigarette and a light. Then he handed her the lighter and had her light his cigarette.

This guy had not been sitting next to Missy and there were no spaces available. He stood behind Missy and bent down and talked in her ear. I could not hear what they were saying, but the conversation seemed to get quite intense. Then the guy grabbed Missy's head, turned it towards him, and gave her a long, wet kiss. The other guys at the bar watched and egged him on. He turned Missy's bar stool around and pulled her towards him. He motioned her to go towards the back of the bar, where the restrooms are. She started walking.

As he left, the guy gave high fives to a couple of guys at the bar. It was clear that he was planning on having her. He strutted after her. I quickly walked towards where they were heading.

Franklin's has four restrooms, two regular ones and two handicapped ones. The handicapped ones are one person stalls. I watched from across the room as the guy pushed my wife into the woman's handicapped restroom. I looked around and walked into the men's handicapped restroom which was adjacent. I was hoping I might hear what was going on. I was not disappointed. The walls were thin, and the conversation came across like I was in the room.

"God, what a hot bitch you are. I think you like this, don't you? Oh, yeah, you love it. Let's see how my tongue feels on those buttons." For a moment, there was silence, but I swear I could feel heat through the walls.

Then I heard the man in the bathroom with my wife command, "Take off your dress." There was a pause then, "Give it to me. I'll give it back when you've earned it." "Nice body. Why don't you rub your tits for me?" There was another pause, then the guy said, "Now I want you to get down on your knees and worship my dick."

I didn't hear the zipper, but it wasn't long before I heard the sounds of slurping and moans from the guy. He talked dirty to my wife. "Hold your head still, now. I'm going to fuck your face. God, you are one horny easy bitch. Hold still now. Use your tongue. Lick my dick while I fuck your mouth." I was so damn excited by the situation that I was masturbating furiously. My wife was in a public restroom, on her knees, sucking the dick of a guy she had met only minutes before.

Not being able to see the action, but hearing it through the walls, gave my imagination free reign. I think it was better than watching what was going on.

Before long, I heard the guy say, "I'm cumming. You better drink every drop in that pretty slut mouth." Then the guy groaned loudly in obvious pleasure for quite some time. When he finally stopped, he said, "God, Lady, that was a lot of cum in your mouth. Man, you can really suck a dick. Oh, but look, there's some on your cheek and there's a little bit in your hair. You better clean up."

I figured the interlude was over and started to leave, then I heard the guy say, "Alright, now, use your hand. Make me real hard. I can tell you want a good fucking, and I can go forever the second time. Is that what you want, honey? Do you want a good hard long fucking?"

I strained to hear the answer, but there was only silence. I heard him ask the question again and add in a smirking tone, "Is it that hard for you to say you want to get fucked? Honey, you've got it written all over you. I don't think the word "No" is in your vocabulary. Now ask me to fuck you." I still heard nothing from my wife. I think it was one thing for her to play a game where she was available but quite another thing for her to ask to get fucked. Knowing Missy, I knew that would be a humiliating experience for her.

"What's the matter, Honey, cat got your tongue?" I heard him through the wall. "Maybe you swallowed so much of my cum that you can't talk." He laughed at his own joke. "Maybe I just need to play with those titties of yours some more before you tell me you want it. I could tell that you loved that. Move over here in front of me."

For the next couple of minutes, I was treated to exquisite silence. My mind imagined the scene. This guy was taking his time, playing with my wife's tits. It is hard to describe the sensitivity of Missy's tits. She can be in a bad mood, and if I tweak them for a couple of minutes, she will be out of her mind. If you have Missy's nipples, you have Missy. The Hispanic looking guy had Missy's nipples.

I finally heard something, and I strained to make out the words. It took a moment to realize that I was hearing moans instead of words. I was married to those moans and I knew them well. Then the guy started talking again.

"You love this don't you?" I said, "Don't you?"

I heard my wife answer with a soft, shaky "Yes."

"How much do you love having your titties played with?"

"I love it...I really love it a lot."

"I'll bet it gets that pussy all hot and wet and wanting something inside of it, doesn't it?"

Missy answered without a pause. "Yes, oh yes it does."

The guy knew he had her now. "Well then, Miss Hot Titties, I think you better ask me to fuck you and you better do it now or I'm going to stop playing with these things and just leave you here to think about what should have been. Do you want me to stop playing with your titties?"

"No, don't stop."

The domination in his voice was apparent when he said, "Well, this is your last chance. Ask me to fuck you."

There was a period of silence. Missy might be turned on beside reason, but it was a major concession for her to ask a guy to fuck her. During our marriage, I don't remember once when she said it to me, though I had tried to get her to say it.

Then I heard the guy say, "So long, then. Great Blow Job." I heard their door start to open. I was surprised at what I heard next.

"No, don't go. Please. I want...I want you to fuck me."

He enjoyed his advantage. "Now what did you say, I'm not sure I heard you correctly."

She surrendered, the tone clear to me through the walls. "I want you to fuck me."

He savored the moment, knowing he was getting something that was coerced through passion to a point where it overcame shame. I put myself in the guy's place. God, it would be great to make a woman admit her sexuality and go beyond her boundaries. "Well, I'll tell you what. If you ask me real nicely and say please, I just might fuck you. Why don't you ask me nice?"

There was a brief pause and then I heard my wife say, "Will you please fuck me?"

"Well, now, that's a lot better. What position do you want me to fuck you in?"

"I want it doggie style." My wife's words surprised me. We had tried many positions, but she had always said she preferred being on top.

He said, "Do you mean you want me to fuck you from the back while you're on your hands and knees?" the guy taunted. It was clear that a sexist dude was enjoying a fantasy come true and intended to live it to the fullest.

Missy said, "Yes, I want to get on my hands and knees. I want you to fuck me."

The guy played out the moment. I heard him say, "Well first, I think I need to pinch these nipples a bit and bit them and kiss them. Keep that pussy nice and wet and hot. Raise your hands straight up in the air like you're under arrest. That's good. Keep them up there. God, you do have big nipples."

Missy's moaning came clearly through the walls. Of her own mind now, she gasped, "Oh, God, please fuck me, I need to be fucked now. You're driving me fucking crazy." Hearing her, I was hard to the point of pain and I came in quantities not known since my teens. I heard him order, "Now, put your hands on the toilet and bend over. Come on, now, raise that butt up higher. Honey, you do have a nice puss. Just cause you've been so good, I think I'll go ahead and fuck it now. Don't fall in the toilet." He laughed.

Being in the next room, I couldn't see the moment of entry, but I knew when it happened. Missy yelled out, "Oomph. Oh, God. You're so big. God, that feels great." She was then reduced to a series of moans as this guy continued to fuck her. The guy had amazing staying power, although I knew he had come earlier when Missy gave him a blow job.

After I came, I got that post-orgasmic moment of reason when I thought, "What the hell are we doing?" My wife was playing my fantasy game, and she was getting screwed by a stranger in a public bathroom at a local bar. He was probably the second man to have his way with Missy tonight. I was next door, masturbating. For a moment, my conscience took over and I felt very foolish.

Right as I was feeling foolish, I heard the familiar sounds of Missy starting to cum. Familiar, but different. Louder. Uninhibited. She mewed and made several musical cries of "Oh." Then she basically yelled, "God, oh God I'm cumming. It feels so good. Oh, God I love it. Fuck me. Fuck me hard. I can't stop cumming."

At that point, I heard a slap. For a moment, I was afraid the guy had hit Missy or something, but then I heard him say, "Move that ass faster, Bitch, or I'll turn it red." Then I heard several more noises, and it was clear that my wife was getting her pretty ass spanked. I had a thought that spanking must be in the air tonight.

This new turn-on overcame my conscience. Missy and I had been having wasted times. We were competitive. Frankly, she had been a bitch. But I had won this game, and I was in charge, and she was living my fantasy. I grew hard again. I loved every single thing that was going on in the room next door. Apparently, so did Missy. Between spanks, she cried out, "God, I'm coming again." She made a noise then that I had never heard, one of total abandon and passion. The spanks stopped. I heard the guy order, "Turn around. I'm getting ready to cum. Oh, God, it's going to be a big one. Open your mouth." Then I heard him make a sound like wolves wailing at midnight, and these snarls of pleasure continued for a very long time.

I decided that this was a good time to make my exit, so I left the bathroom and went back to the bar area. When I got there, I noticed that almost an hour had passed.

It was about ten minutes before Missy came back out to the bar. The guy she had been with bought her a drink, gave her a lingering kiss and then left the bar. I was amazed, but Missy looked great. She had freshened her make-up and her hair. She glowed. After the guy left, Missy strutted over to me and gloated, "Well thanks for making my fantasies come true, honey. I'll bet you haven't enjoyed your winnings nearly as much as I have. Ready to take me home and see if you can beat the competition?" She smiled smugly at me and put her hands under her breasts. "And still one cigarette to go..."

I realized then that Missy had made the most of my plan and had enjoyed everything that had gone on. I had meant to put her through her paces and put her in situations that she didn't like. Instead, I had created a scene that was apparently one of Missy's fantasies. She had gotten way too much pleasure for my purposes. That didn't sit well with me. I recovered and told Missy, "You're playing my game, darling. I'm the director and you're the actress. I won the bet and you're the one paying off. I'm having more pleasure from this than you are."

Missy smirked. She did not know that I had heard her encounter in the bathroom. "Oh, I doubt that you're having anywhere near as much fun as I am. You don't even know how to win. I win when I lose. Let me lose again."

I looked my wife in the eye. The fight for dominance was continuing. I said, "Well, Missy, we've still got one cigarette to go, Darling. And this time, I think I'll pick out the guy."

"Why don't you pick out that blonde muscle boy at the end of the bar," Missy asked. "I'd love to have him fuck me." I glanced at her. "No, Missy, I've got someone else in mind." I took her by the arm and led her back into the bar. I pointed at this guy across the room who was sitting by himself with his back to us. I said, "Let's try him. Go up and put your arms on his shoulder and ask for a cigarette. From the time when you ask him for a light until he lights it and you have smoked it down to the filter, you are his for the taking. When you've smoked this last cigarette, we'll go home."

We walked over. Missy approached the man from behind and slowly slid her hands over his shoulders. She smiled at me as she leaned her breasts over him and said, "Hey, fella, will you give a girl a cigarette?"

The guy turned around and looked at Missy. He grinned at her. "Thanks for asking, Missy. Why don't you sit down and we'll talk about it?" He gestured towards a chair.

Missy's face had a look of absolute shock. She was completely flustered and she stammered "J- J.P., what are you doing here?" She looked angrily at me and said, "Huh un, no way."

I was smirking. "What's the matter, Missy? You know J.P. He works with you. He's the nerd you always ignore and talk about and make fun of. He's the guy you and Karen tease and then leave hanging. You just asked him for a cigarette and he told you to sit down. Is there some problem with you paying off your backgammon losses just because things aren't going your way? What's it going to be?"

Missy glared at me. I thought she was going to leave and call the whole thing off. I goaded her. "Are you a good sport, Missy? Are you an honest person? Do you only pay off bets when it suits you? I Won! You lost! Now let's see your famous honorable character. Show me how you win now." She continued to glare at me, and I thought she was going to leave. Then, reluctantly, she turned and sat in the chair J.P. had indicated.

J.P. had a triumphant look, and my wife was obviously concerned. "So, Missy, you asked me to light you a cigarette? Well, guess what? This nerd knows the game you and your husband are playing. In fact, your husband called me and told me to come down.

Missy turned to me and said, "That wasn't part of the deal."

"Nobody ever said that it was a secret," I replied. "Remember, this is my game. Now you may have some idea of who's in charge. I make the rules and I can change them. Like I said, let's see who enjoys it most."

Missy angrily turned to J.P. Then she softened and turned the charm on him. "J.P., I'm afraid I've got a rather sick husband. You and I are friends. We work together. Be a friend and just light this last damned cigarette and let's get this over with."

J.P. held out a cigarette. "I think this will be your fourth and final one, once I give it to you and you smoke it. Since endings are always special times, let's be sure we make the most of it. Why don't you move your chair over here next to mine."

This, to me, was a moment of truth. If Missy did as J.P. told her, she was acquiescing to his superior position...and mine. Missy sat still for a while, threw me a mad look and then, slowly, scooted her chair next to J.P.'s. "Closer, Missy," he said. She glared at J.P. and then moved until her chair was touching his.

"Do you have on panties, Missy?" Missy gave a smartassed reply, which was a mistake. She said "Yes, J.P. I have panties on. Do you?" J.P. just smiled. He had yet to even touch Missy.

"Take them off for me, Missy. Now. Here." Missy paused. Another critical moment. Then she reached under her dress, wiggled about, and pulled off her panties. She threw them on J.P.