Darkest Fantasies (11 page)

He kissed her
briefly on the cheek. 'The chairman is pushing this family firm
thing until it's getting up my nose. I'm afraid I really need you
to be there. Do it for me, honey? Pretty please? I'll take you out
and buy you a new dress. We can show our faces and leave early, if
you like.'

'Please don't
call me honey.'

Reading
between the lines, she realised Kevin didn't want her there at all,
but if the chairman was going to insist, what could he do? Poor
Kevin. Having to take his little dab of a wife out must make him
feel quite inferior. It would also cramp his style; she would have
to do something about that. Perhaps it was time, after all. She was
about to agree, but Kevin was still talking.

'Don't worry
if you don't understand what they're going on about. Just agree
with everything anyone says, Essie, and we'll get along fine.'

She smiled
sweetly at him, seething at his condescending manner. How long had
he talked to her like that? She couldn't recall. 'I think I can
manage that, dear. But I think I'll go into town and buy myself a
new dress while you're at work. I realised last time that what I
was wearing wasn't quite appropriate. In fact, I might buy two or
three if your firm is going to make a habit of this. I really don't
want to be the one to stand in the way of your promotion. I know
how much it means to you.'

He looked
instantly worried. He knew how much dresses cost. 'Wait until
Saturday morning, and I'll drive you in and help you choose.'

She replied
pensively, kissing him on the cheek. 'No, I think that will be too
late. If I don't find something I like I won't have time to shop
around. Besides, this will be my little surprise for you. I know
you well enough by now to know your tastes in women's clothes. I
won't let you down, I promise.'

He gave in and
smiled tolerantly. 'Well, if you're sure you want to go on your
own, sugar. Just don't let anyone rip you off with designer
labels.'

'I wouldn't
dream of it,' she replied.

It was just as
well he didn't see her go into town, for he would hardly have
recognised the self-confident woman who marched from shop to shop.
She knew exactly what she wanted all right, and it took a while to
find it. But this time she had no husband to take her round by the
arm and talk to the shop assistants on her behalf, as if she was
incapable of doing it for herself.

'Can I help,
madam?' The thin assistant looked over her glasses at Esther's
present attire, her narrow eyes seemingly calculating to a penny
what type of dress the client could afford, and assessing it wasn't
going to be one from her shop.

'Madam would
like to try on that black dress in the window,' she responded, with
sarcasm.

The shop
assistant's manner gradually altered, and what with the sale of two
rather expensive little numbers and a pile of silky underwear, she
made a reasonable bit of commission, all things considered.

Esther then
went on to a jewellery shop to purchase some costume jewellery that
was almost obscenely ostentatious. Luckily it was not as expensive
as it looked, though she doubted Kevin would know the difference.
She enjoyed shopping for herself, and realised how often she had
simply shopped with Kevin in mind. How easily she had forgotten to
be herself. She was beginning to look forward to Saturday night
with the gleeful anticipation of a teenager.

Saturday
evening she dressed quickly, and shrouded herself in the
ankle-length, plain black evening cape she had always hated because
she felt silly in it. She now realised what it was for.

'Essie, honey,
that looks lovely,' Kevin said, gratification on his face. The cape
had been a Christmas present from him, and she had never seemed
even slightly interested in it. He thought it chic. Esther thought
it covered a lot. She was glad he didn't look down, though, because
it didn't cover her shoes, which were tiny and strappy and
high-heeled: a dead give-away.

When they
arrived at the hotel she kissed him on the cheek. 'Go on in and get
me a gin, darling. I just have to go and powder my nose.'

'You don't
want me to wait?' He was confused at her self-sufficiency. She
normally hated walking into a room full of unknown people without
an escort.

She gave him a
gentle shove in the back, clutching her make-up bag beneath the
cape. 'Go on in. I'm not sixteen. I can cope.'

'Well, if
you're sure...'

The function
room was large. Kevin liked it because it had a sort of old-English
charm, he said. Esther knew the truth; the hotel was posh and
expensive and he hoped to patronise it on his own salary one
day.

As he entered
he fixed a professional smile in place, and greeted his work
colleagues and the dark-suited bankers with his almost upper crust
disdain. Very soon he stood with a drink in his hand, engaged in
serious conversation with a tall greying man with the eyes of a
crocodile.

Suddenly the
man's protuberant eyes popped even further. 'Oh my,' he said,
dwelling heavily on each word. 'Oh my, oh my! Who is that
woman?'

Kevin looked
around, choked on his drink, spluttered and coughed. 'That's my
wife!' he gasped in horror.

Esther was
dressed in the shortest black cocktail dress he had ever seen, and
wore extremely high heels, all of which accentuated the shapely
outline of her long legs. Not only that, her newly shorn hair was
sort of frizzed up, her face was exquisitely made-up, and her
earrings nearly reached the expanse of unblemished white flesh of
her shoulders.

She gave him a
warm smile from across the room, and her hips seemed to gyrate as
she walked towards him. 'Jesus,' he muttered, stunned to
petrifaction.

The banker
turned to him. 'She can still make you feel like that and you're
married to her?'

Kevin stared
at him, then back to his wife, then around at the other men. He saw
lust in their eyes and they all pulled in their paunches slightly
as she approached.

'Do you like
my new dress, darling?' she asked huskily, draping herself around
him.

'I - I
expected there to be a bit more of it,' he managed to blurt.

The banker
roared with laughter and clapped him on the shoulder. 'I like you,
fellow,' he said. 'You and your charming wife must sit with
me.'

Kevin gave a
little helpless shrug, suddenly feeling out of his depth. What the
hell had happened to Esther? She was going to embarrass the hell
out of him. What was she playing at?

But she didn't
embarrass him. The banker, he soon realised, was an accomplished
lecher, and Esther seemed to take it all in her stride. From the
other side of the table he couldn't quite see but he was sure the
man's hand dwelt under the table more often and for longer than was
strictly necessary. And the banker's wife, whom he felt obliged to
engage in conversation, was a dry and humourless woman who bored
him silly by just agreeing with everything he said. To his further
annoyance, across the table, Esther seemed to be encouraging the
man, giggling at his jokes and sexual sallies.

When they
began to mix after the dinner - softening the target, his boss
called it - Esther hung faithfully to Kevin's arm. This not only
kept him continually surrounded by a pack of drooling admirers
intent on buying her next drink, but it also put him flush to the
most prestigious of his guests, something he would normally have
been ecstatic about. He knew this would be followed the next day by
a taxing debriefing session - how much information had he wheedle
out of his mark - but for the first time in his life, Kevin didn't
wheedle much. He spent the evening in shock, and far from feeling
like continually apologising patronisingly for his unworldly little
wife, he found himself in the strange position of being jealous of
all those men who craved introduction to her. Before the evening
was out he found himself invited to a dinner evening with the
Mansells, company directors who had always ignored him before. He
knew it was her fault. Fault? He had been angling for such an
honour for longer than he would admit, and she had achieved it.
What he wasn't quite sure, was how or why, and most of all he
didn't understand the anger that filled him at the thought of his
wife behaving like a tart all evening. Even though he had to admit
to himself, she was stunning. If he had not been married to her,
she was the kind he sure as hell would have made a pass at.

As they drove
home he kept giving her sidelong glances. 'Are you out of your
mind?' he said finally. 'You could have made me the laughing stock
of the bank.'

'I rather got
the impression the men weren't laughing.'

'No,' he said
darkly, holding her elbow possessively as she hobbled up to the
front door on feet that obviously hurt. All night his cock had been
doing somersaults, almost as if she were someone else's wife and he
the lecher. And on the heels of his lust was the greatest feeling
of jealousy he had ever experienced. It all added up to one great
itch which needed servicing. And she was asking for it, he found
himself thinking. Before he was quite aware of his own intentions,
he had kicked the door shut behind them and slammed her up against
the wall in the hall.

He couldn't
get his trousers undone quick enough, and while he was still
fumbling he was sucking mouthfuls of succulent breast which he
thumbed easily from her indecent neckline. When he was free he
rubbed shaky hands up under her dress, over the smooth expanse of
her tights, and ripped. Then, wedging her up against the easy-clean
wallpaper he lifted her onto his spearing erection with a great
groan.

Esther gasped
as she sank onto him. His sudden and unexpected attack sent massive
shock waves through her. She closed her eyes and indulged in her
secret fantasy. She was a housewife. This big, strong, beautiful
man had just burst his way in through the door, ripped her clothes
off, and was raping her in her own hall because she was so
desirable he could not help himself. She groaned out loud.

'Fuck,' Kevin
cursed, hearing this new sound. 'I've hurt you.'

'No, no,' she
said urgently, sucking at his ear, and her voice was low and husky
with the euphoria of sex. 'Don't stop. Ram me. Hard.'

He rammed.
Having been rampant half the evening there was no way he could be
gentle or hold back. It was all or nothing, and he was past
stopping. All too soon he came, a painful explosion he could not
have stopped had he wanted to.

Quickly he
plummeted down to earth. 'Darling, I...'

She put a
finger to his lips. 'Don't apologise.'

'But I...'

'I enjoyed
it.'

He was taken
aback. 'You did?'

She kissed his
nose. 'I enjoyed the whole evening. It was fun. Thank you. Come and
have a night-cap with me before we turn in.'

They sat in
silent, contemplative companionship for a short while, and drank to
the success of the evening. Then Esther went up to bed first, as
she always did, while Kevin sat in confused solitude for a moment.
The bankers had certainly gone away sounding positive about the
deal, and he was not unaware of the part his wife had unwittingly
played. High finance and sex, it seemed, were interwoven, and if
one was good, so was the other. He hadn't felt that strongly
stirred by Esther for an awfully long time. He vaguely recalled
that sex had been more exiting when they were courting, and that
after they married things got sort of routine. He had supposed that
was just what happened.

This new
sexual excitement stirred his loins and before he realised it was
happening, his tired prick was valiantly rising again, leaving him
feeling more confused than ever; even when courting, once an
evening had been enough. He thought back. Esther hadn't been a
virgin when he'd met her, but she had been acquiescent and
accepting. Her subservient role had made him feel confident and
protective, and therefore dominant. For a long time now sex had
been a mutual and unspoken agreement, a hasty fumble of removed
clothing in the dark, and a fairly rapid consummation after which
they both fell asleep.

That was why
it was so different with the other women. The secretaries,
colleagues' wives. It wasn't the consummation that excited him so
much as the chase. The sex, in the end, was much the same with any
female and, no matter how much the women made come-hither eyes at
him, he never went back to the same woman twice - apart from his
wife. That was his particular brand of loyalty. For in his way, he
was truly loyal. He had promised to love and cherish, and he did
so. He'd often thought it wasn't fair that men had appetites a wife
was incapable of fulfilling. Yet that dominatrix woman had an
appetite the like of which he had never seen.

He gave a
short laugh at his own musings; obviously because he wished it
could be that way, that was all. He told himself to stop
daydreaming and get back to reality.

He had
believed for a long time that the elusive and explosive sexual
experience of which couples often boasted was obviously a
fabrication. The sort of women who made sensible wives had been
designed to be the recipients for a man's seed, and that was all.
After that they fulfilled their own emotional needs with the messy
and annoying process of child-rearing, leaving the male partner
space to get on with his time-consuming process of hunting for
further conquests.

Yet the woman
who kidnapped him had enjoyed an orgasm. And suddenly, out of the
blue, so had Esther. Even during the exquisite experience with her
in the hall, when he let himself down and turned into the original
caveman, he had felt her orgasm. What was going on?

Confused, he
crept into bed quietly next to his sleeping wife, bringing with him
a newly-awakened need for her which wouldn't seem to go away. He
wished Esther could now and again be like that other woman, tie him
up and make him feel exquisitely helpless, then play with his
prick, bring him to fruition with her hand. He felt guilty, as
though this desire were a betrayal of his marriage vows, but he
could not help himself. And as he lay there, his hips moving just
slightly in recollection, he realised with irritation that he had a
real snorter of a hard-on that wasn't simply going to go away
because he was tired.