Cuckold Dinner Conversation By dollyanne We’re seated by the maitre d’. It’s a classy restaurant--leather booth seats, white tablecloths, candles, and a wine steward in attendance. Me: dark blue jacket and white shirt with burgundy tie. Shauna: glowing like a drop-dead gorgeous trophy on display in a simple spaghetti-strap alarmingly short low-cut black sundress, her blonde hair swept up and pinned back with a red rose thingamajig that matches her cherry lipstick. I cut into my T-bone to make sure it’s well done. It is. Then I look up at her and say, “Honey, why do you brag about him so much?” She smiles, dipping a chunk of rare steak into her sauce. I wonder how she can eat it like that. She’s a real carnivore, unlike me. It makes me feel less of a man. “Because there’s a lot to brag about, dear.” I cast my eyes downward, dragging my fork over the meat. “More than me?” “You said it, I didn’t.” She takes a sip of Merlot. “I don’t see what he has that I don’t.” She fixes her patented steely gaze on me. I know what’s coming. “Are you wearing your pink panties tonight, honey?” “Of course—you know I am.” “The lacy ones. The silky ones. You know,” She gestures dramatically with a limp wrist. Too dramatically I think. “The ones that say “sissy” on them?” My cheeks flush. I can’t look at her straight on. I cough. “Yes.” “And, have you ever looked in them?” She smiles again and takes a gulp of wine. “Maybe you’ve like, seen a gnat on a horse?” She throws her head back and laughs at her little joke. She’s so giddy I think she’s going to spit wine across the table. I laugh back, gathering my composure. “Ha, ha. Funny. You’re going to see him again aren’t you?” She sighs and stares past me as if she could see him projected on the back of the leather seat. “See him, touch him, taste him, feel him…” Her voice trails off. “You mean fuck him don’t you?” I stab a piece of steak with my fork. “Ummm…I like your idea.” “No, it’s not my idea.” “It’s not?” She sets her fork down. “I take it you don’t want your dessert then?” “No, I didn’t say that.” “I know you. You’re like a starving little piglet. You’d sink your whole face into a bucket of slop if you thought his cream was in there.” I look around to see if anyone is within earshot and lean toward her. “Honey— please—don’t talk like that. People could be listening.” “You brought it up.” She glares at me, then turns away. “Besides, I’ll talk the way I want. Especially about him.” I shift in my seat. “You can’t tell me you don’t like it when I…uh…when I do that.” “Oh, honey, I love it. I love it when your face is buried in me like a pig in slop. It suits you.” “Then you’re going to see him again?” She grins. “Tonight darling. Harrison’s picking me up on his Harley.” She glances at her watch. “Oops, I’ve only got 10 minutes. Must run.” She drops her fork with a clink on the plate and dabs her lips with the napkin. She gets up leaving half a steak behind, grabs her black sequined purse, and leans toward me, her luscious cleavage inches away. “See you later tonight, honey. Or, should I say morning?” No kiss. No peck on the cheek. Nothing. “I expect you to be in that pretty little pink marabou nightie when I get back.” She puts two fingers to her lips, then presses them to mine—a finger kiss is the best I’m going to get tonight. Then she sashays out with her round ass wiggling like a street hooker in that clinging short dress and those 5” heels. She knows I’m watching and salivating. I try to get the waiter’s attention to pay the check as I sit there alone unable to get up because of a raging hard-on tenting the front of my pants. All I can think of is my beautiful wife letting down her hair, and that thin dress blowing up around her hips, as she rides off into the night air on a man’s motorcycle to God knows where. I wonder what condition she’ll be in when he returns her to me. My mind is spinning. What scenario will they play tonight? Will he be a gang member? Do they have a clubhouse? Is he taking her there? Will they all fuck her as a trophy wife? How did I get into this? To be continued...?