AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is a fictional story in a fictional series of a fictional married couple proposing fictional sex outside their fictional marriage. If you find the subject matter objectionable, please move on.
You may want to read Walt and Rhonda Ch. 05 to get the background, but it's not essential.
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It had been more than two months since Walt and Rhonda had confirmed their deepest suspicions and most exciting fantasies about each other. After ten years of wonderful married life and loving sex they had each had sexual experiences outside their marriage, each hiding it from the other, terrified of being discovered while teasing each other that they were doing it, and at the same time hoping and wondering if the other was doing the same. Finally, at a party, they'd had the opportunity to separately see each other having sex with another person, and realizing their fantasies. Afterwards they had discussed it, and agreed that since no had had been hurt, and since they both enjoyed what they did, and they each enjoyed the idea of each other enjoying it, that they would continue, only without secrets. Hiding nothing from each other, no lies, no secrets; that was the pact they made.
For the first few weeks following their emotional reunion after witnessing each other's dalliances, they had returned to their regular sex lives, making slow, wonderful love, considerate of each other's needs and wants. They sexually reset their norms, making sure they were still okay, that these new events hadn't changed them, or irreparably damaged their relationship. Each knew that the relationship had changed, had grown, or stretched to include new boundaries, but their personal, intimate relationship was strong as ever, once again firmly rooted in trust and open communication.
Rhonda was happy to have given up her outside activities, but was especially pleased with having lost the weight of her deceit, her lies by omission. As they rediscovered themselves these few weeks, she thought, it was a great relief to not have her secrets dangling over her head, weighing her down, and a bigger relief to know that Walt wasn't angry, or jealous. In fact he was excited to hear some of her stories that night, some while she sucked his cock, and others when she was on top of him, riding his shaft. But for weeks after the party the subject had not been raised, and it had been just them, together, like old times.
A few weekends after the party they had gone to dinner on a weeknight (a WEEKNIGHT of all things, who would have imagined!), just to spend some time together. The restaurant was surprisingly busy for a Thursday, but they sat quietly, eating and talking. They chatted about work, and Walt mentioned that he might have to go out of town in few weeks. He hadn't been away for a while, she realized, and wondered if he had been avoiding his trips because of their recent past activities. They had only occurred when they were apart. She considered bringing it up, but let the thought slide. Walt was relating the vendor he had to visit; he'd be gone four days, there were three plant visits, company officers, meetings. At his last trip he'd fucked the owner's wife, and Rhonda felt a little tingle inside remembering Walt telling her what they had done. It had been pretty hot. Her pussy twitched at the memory, and her thoughts drifted to sex as they talked.
And she looked around the restaurant.
There were a number of couples seated around them, and more at the bar, visible from the dining room. She wondered if any of them were like Walt and her, prepared to share themselves with others; if their relationships were strong and loving and understanding like the one she shared with Walt. She smiled wistfully at the ones who looked happy and content, and felt sorry for the ones who ate in silence, existing together, not enjoying themselves.
It occurred to her then that she was trying to determine if she could detect, just by looking, if a couple had an open relationship. And she realized that if that were true, if you could see it, then they could surely see it in her and Walt. She blushed with momentary embarrassment. What would these people, these regular, ordinary people, think of her? Would they be shocked? Or would they just give a knowing smile, because they were doing the same thing? She drifted off, ruminating on the possibilities, until she felt Walt's hand on hers.
"Hey," she heard him say, "where'd you go just now?"
She came back to herself to find her eyes had settled on a young couple at a nearby table, and when she snapped back to reality she saw they were looking her way and grinning. She gasped in surprise, and turned away, blushing and flustered, to answer Walt's question.
"Oh, sorry, I was just thinking," she stammered. "I guess I drifted off a little." She smiled at him to cover her thoughts and embarrassment. What would that young couple think of her? Her eyes darted back, but the young couple had returned to their meal and conversation. She turned to Walt and he was looking where her eyes had been. When he returned to her, he was smiling broadly.
"You sexy, brazen hussy," he whispered in a low voice, "were you checking that guy out?"
She was momentarily speechless, both because she hadn't been, and because the subject of other people had not come up for several weeks. She looked at his face. He wasn't angry. He was -- what? Entertained?
"No, you idiot," she joked, but her hand fiddled with her napkin. "No, don't be silly."
"You were, weren't you? You were checking out that young stud eating dinner with his wife."
"I was not," she insisted, and her eyes drifted back to the young couple, who were smirking and stealing furtive glances at her. Oh, my God, she thought, I bet they think that I WAS staring at him! But even as she thought it, her eyes scanned the younger man, his relaxed body, his long legs under their table, his easy good looks, and the devilish smirk on his face. And her pussy confirmed her opinion.
"You were," Walt grinned at her, "you just did it again!"
She felt her face go red and she put her hand up to hide her embarrassment. "Oh, God that's embarrassing," she muttered. "I was not checking him out before, but I admit I did just now." She looked up at him and grinned. "And they saw me! It's so embarrassing!" She dropped her hands to the table as the redness left her face.
Walt snickered at her. "Don't worry yourself, dear," he said covering her hand with his. "I think they enjoyed it." She saw his eyes dart in their direction, then return to hers. "So, you would go for that? Is he your type?"
"Walt! Stop it!" Rhonda's embarrassment returned, shocked to hear him asking such a frank question out loud, after so many weeks of not addressing the topic. She took a moment to accustom herself to the idea that she was openly discussing her potential for attraction to other men with her husband in a public place. She wondered why it didn't seem more unusual. And more strangely, that discussing it publicly was, well, a little titillating, almost dangerous.
Her words were stern, but with a smile. "What are you talking about? I don't have a type." She lowered her voice, and put her hand on his. "Except you, of course; you're my type."
"Good to know," he said, "I was kidding of course." He gazed into her eyes and his lips curled a little into half a smirk. "But are you interested? What kind of man interests you?"
