Trapped in a dungeon for tickle torture...
"I'm not sure how I feel," Michael said honestly. His anger was gone, replaced by uncertainty and mixed feelings. "Last night was incredible. I've never been so excited, watching you with another man. I think I came three times, playing with myself as I watched Randy fuck you."
"But ... it made me jealous, too, watching how you responded to him. I guess I wasn't as prepared for it as I thought. Did you ... did you sleep with him last night?"
Jen nodded, looking guilty. "After we fell asleep, Randy came in and woke me up. We went back to the guest room. We, um ... we had sex again. Then I guess I fell asleep. I wasn't planning to sleep with him, but I guess I was tired."
She looked quizzically at her husband. "Does that upset you, that I slept with Randy? I mean, after having sex with him, I guess I don't understand how sleeping with him matters."
"I guess I don't know either," Michael said, shrugging. "Somehow, sleeping with him is more intimate than having sex with him. I know that sounds crazy, but it's how I feel."
"So ... what do you want to do now? Are you saying you want to stop playing the game?"
"No," Michael said quickly. "I love watching you with other men. It's such a turn-on. And I know you like the variety. But you were right. We shouldn't play with the same guy. I didn't think it would bother me, but it does. I think we should play with different guys, like before. So I don't want you to see Randy anymore."
"Well ... okay," Jen said somewhat reluctantly.
Three weeks later, Michael and Jen were in the Acela, riding the train to Pennsylvania. But they weren't traveling together.
Jen looked nervous as she sat in the lounge car, sipping white wine. She wore a classic black dress that buttoned in the front. The top three buttons were undone, revealing a hint of her lacy black demi-bra. The dress ended above Jen's knees and the bottom four buttons were also undone, so her dress parted high up her thighs when she crossed her stocking-clad legs.
Michael watched from across the car as a well dressed man approached his wife. He was 30-something and broad shouldered, and looked like a lawyer or broker. (Jen later told Michael the man's name was Jason).
Michael smiled encouragingly when his wife nervously glanced his way. Then Michael watched as Jen flirted with Jason. Playing her role well, she twirled her blonde hair, played with the buttons on her dress, smoothed her stockings, and dangled her heels from her toe. As they spoke, they touched each other. Jen's touching was less than Jason's, but her subtle touching encouraged him, and he became bolder and bolder. His hands were on her legs, caressing her knee, then moving up her silky thighs until momentarily disappearing under her dress.
After twenty minutes of flirting and three rounds of drinks, Jason rose and whispered into Jen's ear. Michael watched as Jen hesitated, and then nodded. She took Jason's offered hand and slid off the stool, inadvertently causing her dress to ride up and momentarily flash her lacy stocking tops.
Jason took Jen's hand and led her to the back of the car. Jen was unsteady in her high heels after all the drinks. But the drinks helped soothe the butterflies in her stomach. Still, she followed Jason nervously, hoping they would go unnoticed, but the lounge car was too small for that, and Jen's beauty and flirtation with Jason had drawn the attention of every male in the car. Jason went into the bathroom. Jen saw the eyes on her, and knew she couldn't follow Jason without being noticed. Then she glanced at Michael, and saw the intensity in his eyes. "Go in with him," she heard her husband silently urge. Red faced and ashamed, Jen quickly followed Jason into the bathroom.
Jason locked the door and roughly pushed Jen against the wall.