The Game I Suggested to My Wife with Her Boss

There are fantasies a man carries for years without ever daring to say them out loud. I carried mine for almost a decade, until one ordinary night, with the lights off and my wife breathing against my chest, the words slipped out on their own.

My name is Martín, I’m forty-seven years old. I’m an ordinary guy: medium height, skinny, light-eyed. People say I still look good for my age, though that’s always what people say when they want to flatter you.

I’m married to Carla. We have a twenty-one-year-old son who studies in Córdoba and has been living there since March. I work for myself, and she’s an administrative assistant at a logistics company. Carla is thirty-nine, just over five foot three, and still has a body that stops conversations when she walks into a room.

What’s special about my wife isn’t just the way she looks. She has long dark brown hair, breasts that don’t need a bra, and an ass that turns heads on the street. But what’s truly dangerous is something else: she radiates something. She doesn’t dress provocatively, she doesn’t look easy, and precisely because of that, almost no one dares make a move on her. Men want her in silence, and she knows it.

Over the years, our bed had settled into a plateau. Nothing serious, just the usual routine. To fill that void, I started watching videos on my own, and that’s when desires I didn’t know I had began to wake up in me. Little by little I started bringing those images into our conversations, especially when we were having sex and she asked me what turned me on.

One night I told her flat out: what excited me most was watching a woman seduce a man, give in, enjoy being desired until she lost her shame. I expected her to get uncomfortable. Instead, Carla thought about it, and later she brought the subject up again, as if something about it had stayed in her head too.

—What do you like a woman to do? —she asked me one night.

—I don’t know. I love seeing them tease, toy with a guy’s desire.

—Would you like me to be like that? More provocative?

—I’d love that.

—But if I dress differently, somebody’s going to get out of line. And you’re going to die of jealousy.

—You know I’ve never been jealous. I trust you. And I know women like to feel desired. All of them do.

She didn’t say anything else that night, but something had lit up. During the week I saw her come home with shopping bags full of new clothes. On Friday, when I asked what she’d bought, she looked straight at me.

—You said you wanted a more provocative woman. The first thing I have to change is my look.

She came over and kissed me the way she had when we were dating, nibbling my ear, promising me that from now on she was going to be the woman her husband liked. She took me to the bedroom, pushed me onto the bed, and pulled my pants off with a devilish smile. When she was done with me, she stripped slowly, grabbed one of the bags, and went into the bathroom.

She came out wearing a black Lycra dress that clung to every curve. Beneath it, I could make out the lines of her stockings and garter belt. She looked like another woman, one I was just meeting.

—From now on I’m going to dress like this —she said, lying down beside me—. And I’m going to have to put up with half the world wanting to fuck me.

—Don’t tell me you don’t like the idea.

—It’s exciting, yeah. But do you really get turned on by another man wanting me? Because if I dress like this, even at work somebody’s going to get brave.

As she said it, her hand already had me hard again. I got the dress off her as best I could, without taking off her thong, and fucked her with a hunger I hadn’t felt in months. She came soaking wet, trembling, and we finished almost at the same time, exhausted.

***

On Monday she got ready for work in skin-tight white pants that made the black thong underneath visible, and a fitted blouse that emphasized her chest.

—Honey, isn’t your thong showing too much?

—That’s the idea, daddy. You wanted a provocative woman. Now don’t complain.

She kissed me and went off to do her makeup. When she came out, in heels, she was impossible to ignore. She didn’t look like a slut, but she did look like a woman who came straight at you.

—My sexy-girl life starts today. I’ll tell you later how it went.

I spent the day unable to concentrate, imagining things. Midafternoon she called me.

—You were right, love. Everyone said something about the new look.

—See? Tell me, what did they say?

—Later. I can’t now, Esteban’s calling me. I love you.

And she hung up, leaving me burning with curiosity. Esteban was one of the managers. He wasn’t in Carla’s department, but every so often they got together to go over reports. A guy our age, married, with kids, tall, fit, one of those men who go to the gym every morning. According to her, he’d had affairs with half the women on staff, and they all spoke wonderfully about him.

At some year-end party I’d seen him look at my wife a little too much. I never gave it much importance. Once I mentioned it to her and she told me he was like that with everyone, that if it were up to him he’d already have made a move, but that she always kept her distance. I didn’t quite believe her. I could tell that, deep down, she liked it too.

That afternoon she came home glowing. She gave me a huge kiss and, without me asking, started talking.

—You were right. Everyone turned to look at me. Every time I went from one office to another, I could feel eyes pinned to my ass.

—And did you like feeling desired?

—Honestly, yes. At times I even got a little turned on.

She sat on top of me on the couch and started kissing me, stroking me. She was hot; I could tell.

—Come on, who got out of line?

—Nobody, really. But one of the guys who said something was Esteban. He told me I looked especially beautiful today, that it was about time I showed how sexy I am.

—And nothing else?

—One of the times he had me go to his office, while he was showing me some spreadsheets, I felt something hard brush against my ass.

When she said that, I got hard again. She felt it and smiled, deliberately stroking me.

—And what did you do?

—Nothing. I thought it was accidental. But the way he looked at me all day, I know it wasn’t.

That night we made love like two desperate people, and for two days we didn’t bring the subject up again.

***

On Thursday she went back on the offensive: fitted blouse, black skirt with a serious slit, and lace stockings. A fantasy secretary.

—Am I okay like this? I hope nobody gets out of line —she said, with irony, before leaving.

At five she called me.

—I got plenty of compliments. And Esteban keeps calling me into his office.

—Watch yourself with that guy, he’s a predator.

—He hasn’t crossed the line yet, but he devours me with his eyes.

—And you love that. I bet when you’re with him you move sexier than usual.

—A little, yeah. Because I’m bad. I’ve got to go, he’s calling me again.

During dinner I noticed she was flushed. She told me she’d tell me later, in bed. And between caresses she started.

—As soon as I hung up with you, Esteban called me in. Again, while he was showing me a spreadsheet, he pressed himself against me. But this time more brazenly. I froze, gathered my courage, turned around, and asked him not to get out of line. He took me by the waist, pulled me against him, and made me feel the erection he had.

I was flying with heat. She kept going.

—I managed to pull away, but I couldn’t find the words. He apologized to me, told me he’d wanted something with me for a long time, that this change had driven him crazy. I told him I’m married, that I love my husband. And he answered that a woman like me deserves a man who’ll make her lose her mind.

—And what did you say?

—I didn’t know what to say, love.

Her hand went down to me, and I was already hard as a rock.

—Oh, daddy. Does it turn you on that another man wants to fuck me that much?

—Honestly, yes. I don’t know why. Doesn’t it turn you on when a man is that hot for you?

—Yes. But I also think it’s wrong. I’m your wife.

We went at it like savages. She was dripping wet, and I told her so.

—Are you like this because of Esteban? —I asked, driving into her hard.

—Yes, he turns me on a lot —she moaned, and exploded in an orgasm that left her breathless.

I flooded her. Then we stayed still, and I saw that little face of pity again.

—What’s wrong?

—I’m afraid this is going to ruin what we have. I don’t know if I should keep playing this game.

—The game is something we both like. But if you’re not comfortable, we’ll stop. I trust you, as long as you don’t hide anything from me.

—I’ll tell you everything. But there are situations I don’t know if I’ll be able to handle. If we keep this up, at some point I’m really going to feel like sleeping with somebody.

—Carla, in all this time I’ve realized I’d like to see you with someone else. And I know you’d like that too. If we talk about it and agree, we can both enjoy it.

She threw herself on me. That look of lust returned to her face and she started touching me.

—You really want to see me with someone else?

—I’ve been fantasizing about it for a while now.

—But people are going to think you’re a cuckold. And that I’m a little slut.

—It doesn’t bother me. If they think I’m a cuckold, it’s because they see you as what I want you to be with me.

—You want me to be a real slut with someone else?

—That’s what I want.

I mounted her. She was already coming without hiding it.

—I want you to seduce Esteban —I told her, and she lost her mind.

—Really? What do you want me to do?

—Keep dressing sexy. When you go to his office, move for him. Let him lean on you, touch you. Act like the good wife who doesn’t want to betray her husband, but let him realize you’re hot too.

—Yes —she moaned, and had another orgasm without stopping—. I’m starting tomorrow. I’m going to let him lean on me, and then I’ll tell you everything.

We ended up wrecked, both of us, with the feeling that we’d crossed a line we weren’t going to come back from.

***

The next day she put on a blue dress that looked painted onto her skin, stiletto heels, and lace stockings in the same shade. She was enough to drive anyone out of their mind.

Midmorning she sent me a message: Esteban had asked her to stay a few minutes around lunchtime, when almost everyone was leaving to eat. I couldn’t work. My head was boiling with everything I was imagining was about to happen.

As soon as she got home she threw herself at me, ate my mouth, and dragged me to the bedroom. Between kisses she started telling me what happened.

—I greeted him like always, with a kiss on the cheek, but I turned my face just a little and almost gave him one on the lips. I played innocent. He got hard. All morning I was the one making excuses to go into his office, and he noticed. That’s why he asked me to stay at noon.

—And what happened?

—When almost everyone was gone, I went. He stood up with the excuse of closing the door, and when he came back he took me from behind. He made me feel everything. And I admit that already got me hot.

—And you?

—Wait, let me tell it, you’re already at a hundred. This time I grabbed his arm and moved him away with a smile. I asked him again not to do those things. He came closer, looked me straight in the eye, and said, “I can’t stop thinking about you. Imagine how you make me feel just by looking at you.”

—And you?

—I was smiling. He asked me what my husband had that made me so faithful. I told him I’m not like the little women he fucks around there. And he answered that he was sure I’m a beast in bed and that you don’t take good care of me.

—Sons of bitches —I laughed, rock hard.

—He grabbed my waist again. He tried to kiss me and I turned my face away. I pushed him off again and asked him to stop. And with that winner’s face he told me: “All right. But sooner or later you’re going to be mine. Start preparing your little husband so he gets used to being a cuckold. I know you started dressing like this to let the woman inside you come out.”

—I can’t believe it.

—He walked past me to open the door and brushed my ass without even trying to hide it. He walked me to the elevator like it was nothing. And I left there wet, Martín. Really wet.

By then I hadn’t been able to stop touching myself throughout the whole story. She had already taken the dress off and was stroking herself. I went down on her and kissed her between the legs until her back arched.

—Like that, daddy. Keep going.

—Do you want me to go after him? Do you want to fuck him? —I asked her, climbing up.

—If you want me to, yes. But I have to do it right, so nobody notices.

I slid into her and we started fucking like crazy.

—Are you going to be his woman?

—I’m going to be his slut. And you, my little cuckold. Want that?

—Yes —I groaned, and we both came at the same time, wrecked.

That night, holding her in my arms, I knew there was no turning back anymore. The game I’d proposed had only just begun, and both of us were too aroused to stop it.

To be continued.