You Can’t Rewind Reality

"It's so hot isn't it?" Larry breathes. "Do you think Vicky's boyfriends are that big?"

"Ohhhhh," I moan, because he moves in me. "Maybe. Do me, Larry. Just do it to me," but I can't stop watching the movie and Larry's watching it too and I wonder what he's thinking and that Asian wife is moaning and sobbing and I try to make the same sort of noises as she's making and Larry likes that.

"Do it to me like he's doing it to her."

He really likes that.

"It's exciting isn't it?" I gasp.

"Oh yeah, it is," Larry grunts and he's thrusting harder, faster and I'm moving a little under him myself and his cock's sliding into me so easily because I'm so wet and it feels so good.

"I bet any Chinese girl would like a big gweilo cock like that fucking them," Larry grunts, fucking me.

"Ohhhhh," I moan, watching, and I think about it. So big. What would that feel like? "Oh god... oh god, yes... yes... I think she would."

"Oh Jesus," Larry groans, and that Asian wife, she's on her hands and knees and the big gweilo guy's kneeling behind her and oh my god he does. He does her like that and I watch his cock go into her and she squeals. I wonder if I'd squeal like she is. If I took a cock like that, I think I would.

"Tiffany, on the floor," Larry gasps. "Like that," and he's eased out of me and I scramble off the couch onto the floor and I'm on my hands and knees facing the LCD and Larry's behind me and he does, he slides his cock into me and I squeal too. I squeal just like that girl we're watching. His hands hold my hips and he's doing me like this while I'm watching the LCD and it's different and I like it.

"Ohh... ohhh... ohhhhh." I like watching the movie too, while Larry's doing me and I try and imagine I'm kneeling like this and there's a gweilo guy like that behind me, doing me like this, a gweilo guy with a big white cock, doing it to me like that with Larry watching, and my sex squeezes down on Larry's cock and he groans and thrusts hard and I push myself back onto him.

"Yes... yes...yes," I squeal, just like that Asian wife is squealing.

Except I'm sure if I had a big gweilo cock like that one doing to me what it's doing to her I'd squeal way louder and I wonder what it would be like and my sex just dances and spasms and there's a building wave inside me and it grows and grows while I imagine what that'd be like, with a gweilo guy. I'm going to ask Vicky. She dates gweilo guys all the time.

"Uh," Larry grunts, slapping up against me and I like it. "Uh... uh... uh."

"Yes," I squeal. "Yes... do it, Larry... Do it do it do it," because I really want him to and in the movie the gweilo guy's climaxing inside the Asian wife while her husband watches and Larry climaxes inside me and I climax on Larry's cock as he finishes inside me and my head sinks down, I rest my head on the back of my hands and I'm slick with sweat and glowing and panting and it's the best ever and when he eases out of me I collapse forward onto the rug and he's lying on his back beside me, panting like a steam engine.

"That was really good," I smile, once I've got my breath back. "Why don't we take a shower together and watch another movie like that?"

"You liked that movie, didn't you?" I say, after that shower. "Would you like to watch another one like that?"

"Would you really like to?" Larry says eagerly, looking through those options. "Okay. How about this one?"

"Asian Husband Cucked?" There's a big white guy, an Asian wife, and okay, that must be her husband. "Okay."

We do, we watch it together and it's just as exciting as the first movie, and that night, I dream that I'm that Asian wife. On my hands and knees, taking a big gweilo cock. While Larry watches.

"It'd be hot to do something like that," Larry says, after we've watched another one of those movies, a couple of weeks later.

"Would you really like to do something like that?" I moan, a month and a lot of those movies later. Larry really enjoys watching them, and we're watching another one. "Tell me, Larry. Would you?"

It's really exciting when he tells me what he'd like me to do, and I keep wondering what it would be like, like that, with Larry watching.

"Oh god, yes, I'd love to do something like that with you, Tiffany," my husband says, and thinking about it, I climax, and Larry climaxes with me. It's really good.

Face down, limply bent over our ottoman with Larry on the floor beside me, glowing in the aftermath of that climax, I watch that big gweilo guy hammering his cock into that Japanese wife as her husband watches. She's making so much noise, and I wonder how real it is? It's a porn movie, but it's on Pornhub and it looks homemade. Maybe it is real.

I know there are chat boards and forums and places like that, online, where people talk about stuff like this. Maybe tomorrow, before Larry comes home, I'll take a look and do some more research. I did read that article last night, about the most common fantasies women have, and, well, I know I'm not alone. I know most women fantasize about infidelity. About having sex with another guy. It's just about the most common fantasy married women have. At least, that's what that Cosmo article I read said.

Then there's sex with a stranger. That's another of the top most common sexual fantasies of women. Sex with an Ex? There's that rather virtuous feeling, because I don't have an ex at all. Larry was the first guy I ever dated, and now we're married. Maybe Vicky was right. Maybe I should have dated back at high school and university, like she did. Like she still does.

And then there's sex with multiple men. That's exciting to think about. Like in the movie we just watched together, with that Japanese wife and her husband, and the big white guy. A threesome. I know Larry enjoyed this movie, he loved it when we roleplayed as if I was that wife. The wife I'm still watching as she kneels before that white guy to get him hard again, with her mouth. Except that I think Larry wants to do more than roleplay. Some of the things he said...

Tomorrow after work, I think I'll talk to Vicky. She always has lots of good advice.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Mr. Wong." I smile as my husband walks in the door. It's our very first Valentine's Day together as a married couple, and he's carrying a big bunch of roses.

My heart's beating a little faster, and it's not just because of the roses. Tonight I'm going to give my husband a very special Valentine's Day present. One I've thought about for weeks and weeks now, ever since he started talking to me about those fantasies he has. More than talked, because we've watched those movies together too, and I'd never thought about anything like this, ever. Not until we watched those movies together, and Larry started telling me what he'd like,and what he'd like me to do.

I was a little shocked to start with, honestly. I'd never thought of things like that. Not until Larry shared those fantasies he has with me. Those fantasies were a little surprising, to be honest. Actually, they were rather shocking, but the more Larry whispered them in my ear when we were making love, and the more of those movies we watched together, the less shocking they were. In fact, the more I thought about them, the more exciting they were, and Larry doesn't know I've decided.

Today it's Valentine's Day, and I really do want to give Larry something very special for his Valentine's Day present. It was so hard to decide if I should, because I've never done anything like this before, but in the end I did make up my mind, because I love Larry so much, and I want to give him something very special for our very first Valentine's Day as a married couple.

Something that Larry will always remember.

I'm sure I'll always remember. It's very exciting thinking about it, and honestly, I don't know how I ever managed to arrange this, but now that I have, I'm absolutely positive that my Larry will always remember our first Valentine's Day together. I do hope he likes his Valentine's Day present. I've thought about it so much, and it's rather scary, but it's also very exciting.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Mrs. Wong," Larry says, as he places his laptop bag in its usual place on the stand in our foyer. He shrugs his coat off, and I take his coat from him, and place it on the hanger, then hang it in the closet for him, the way I almost always do. I turn and give him a hug and a kiss, the way I almost always do when I'm home before he is and I manage to meet him at the door.

"Mmmm," I say. "You do remember we're going out to dinner tonight, lo-gong?"

"Of course I do, Tiffany," he smiles, handing me the big bunch of roses he must have picked up on the way home. "Happy Valentine's Day to my lovable lo-paw. How could I forget?"

"Good," I say, because he does forget these things, and then I kiss him. A quick kiss. A brush of my lips against his. A kiss to tease, and to hint of more to come, because it's Valentine's Day, and he's going to get that very special Valentine's Day present tonight.

"Let's get ready together," I add, smiling, because getting ready together is part of his Valentine's Day present too. He does like watching me getting ready when we go out together, and I know he'll enjoy helping me. He always does. That's one of the things I'd never imagined about being married, and I do enjoy it. So does Larry.

"What time are we booked for dinner?" Larry asks.

"Seven thirty, at the Belle Epoque," I say. We've been there before, that restaurant is really good, and it's only a quick little ten minute walk down the road from our condo tower. It's inside a hotel, too, which is perfect, because they have a Valentine's Day special on hotel rooms, and I have a hotel room booked for us. A honeymoon suite, with champagne, chocolate and roses.

Larry glances at his watch. "It's almost six, we should start getting ready."

"Okay." My heart flutters, and it's racing as Larry follows me into our bedroom.

It's not quite racing, but it is beating faster as Larry undresses with me. He showers with me too. He stays with me in the shower, and he watches me shave myself, very carefully, everywhere, and then he washes me again. Thoroughly. Larry really enjoys watching me shave myself there, and then washing me afterwards. He even kisses me there after he's washed me. He likes it that my skin is so smooth and silky.

Afterwards, he watches while I select the panties I'll be wearing tonight. I bought them online, two weeks ago, even before I finally decided on Larry's Valentine's Day present. I've been planning to wear them for him, but I've saved them for tonight. They're actually not really panties. There's no material. There's nothing but black stretchy elastic threaded through black beads. They're shaped like a G-string, but there's no G to them, only string. Well, and beads too. Those beads accentuate, they highlight, but they don't conceal a thing.

I've never worn panties like these before. It's rather exciting, but it's rather scary too, because when I bought them, I only ever meant to wear them in our bed. Not out to a Valentine's Day dinner in a restaurant. I watch Larry's face as I step into them, draw them into place, and adjust them, because they're not that comfortable if they're in the wrong place. Larry's face flushes red as he watches me. Did he groan quietly? I'm not sure, but I do know my heart is pounding, and my sex is already slippery with anticipation.

Did Larry notice that? I'm not sure, but I do.

I slip into that little black dress I picked for this evening. I bought the dress a week ago, just for tonight. It's elegant, but it's also very revealing. It isn't a clubbing dress. That little black dress is very chic, very hot, and not at all what I'm used to wearing. It's V-fronted, a plunging V-front that actually covers very little of my boobs, and leaves a lot of skin exposed. It's a lot shorter than it was when it was delivered last week. I had the hem raised in the dry-cleaners downstairs. It used to be a just-above-the-knee little black dress.

Now, it's a just-below-my-panties-if-I-was-wearing-actual-panties little black dress, so I'm going to have to be very careful. I don't want to show the world those parts of me that only my husband should see. I do like that look on Larry's face though. The dress and the panties are worth every dollar I paid for them, just for that look.

With the stilettos I plan to wear, I know my legs will look long and slender, and the way Larry eyes me, I know he likes that. That's part of Larry's Valentine's Day present too, because I've never worn a dress this short and revealing before, and I don't wear stilettos very often either. They're not very comfortable, but I don't think I'll actually be standing or walking in them for very long, although I might be wearing them for a long time tonight.

While Larry dresses in our bedroom, I brush my hair and tie it up into a ponytail. I do my makeup, carefully, not overdoing it, and I like the result. I don't use makeup very often. Usually only a little lip-gloss, but tonight I want to look good for Larry, and by the time I finish, I don't just look good. I look stunning, and when I emerge from the bathroom, Larry looks stunned too.

"Wow, Tiffany, you look really hot," Larry says admiringly.

"You do too," I say, and he does. Larry's wearing a tuxedo, the tuxedo he wore for our wedding, and he looks so handsome. We look wonderful together, the perfect couple, poised and elegant, and I know what I look like. Hot. That hot where every guy looks at you and thinks to himself, I wish I was that guy with her. Larry's that guy, and he's my husband. I do love him so much, which is why I am a little nervous about tonight. I really hope he likes his Valentine's Day present.

"We should go," I say, swallowing nervously. "It's seven ten now."

I really am nervous. What if Larry doesn't like his Valentine's Day present? That would be so embarrassing. I do hope he does, because the more I think about my Valentine's Day present for Larry, the more excited I am. Scared of course, because I've never done anything like this before, but excited.

So excited that really, perhaps I shouldn't have worn these panties that aren't.

"Please come this way, Mr. Wong, Mrs. Wong." The maître d' leads us deeper into the restaurant, and we follow, my hand in Larry's. A couple going out together to dinner.

My heart's racing as we walk through the restaurant. Eyes track me, male eyes, female eyes, some hungry, some jealous, and I do know what I look like, dressed in my little black dress. My very short little black dress. My backless little black dress. My plunging V-fronted little black dress. And of course my brand new stilettos. I know exactly what I look like. Hot. Not just hot.

Long-legged. Slender. Pretty. Elegant.

I know why I'm here with Larry.

I know why I look hot.

Larry doesn't.

He will.

He thinks he does, but he doesn't. He will though, and I shiver with rather fearful anticipation, because, well, they're Larry's fantasies, and I know he's tried to persuade me, but is that what he really wants? I think so, and I do hope I'm right, because if I'm not, I'll be so embarrassed. I think I'm going to be embarrassed anyhow, but there's being embarrassed for a good reason, and there's being embarrassed for a bad reason.

Larry eyes the table. It's actually a booth, right at the rear of the restaurant. A little U-shaped booth, with a lovely curved seat of black leather and a round table of polished wood, very intimate and private. Just the place for a romantic Valentine's Day dinner, except of course that it's set for three, and Larry's just noticed.

"Is someone joining us?"

I smile, my heart pounding, and now I'm a little breathless. "Yes, we're having a guest for dinner."

He'll be joining us any moment now, I know. I gave him the time, and the timing's perfect. Larry's eyeing my little black dress as I slide into the booth and take a seat at the rear, right in the center. I know he's looking at my legs. I don't usually wear stilettos, but today I am. Strappy black stilettos with laces that reach my knees. Those black criss-cross leather laces make my legs look even longer and more slender. I'm not planning on taking them off until a lot later. If I take them off at all. I'm sure he'll like that.

Not Larry. Him.

Larry will too, of course.

"We invited someone to join us for Valentine's Day? Who did we invite?" Larry asks, puzzled, and I know he's trying to remember, but of course that's impossible. Larry had nothing to do with arranging dinner tonight. We've never met him. Even I don't know him. Not really. I know who he is though. He's a friend of Vicky's.

Vicky?

She's my best friend, she was my bridesmaid, and she's Chinese like me, but she's not like me at all. I'm a one guy-girl, and that guy is my husband, Larry. Vicky hasn't been a one-guy girl since she... well, let's just say it was years ago, and she's the same age as me, and I'm twenty two, and I'm married. Only a few months, but I'm married, and Larry was... well, let's just say Larry's Chinese too, Chinese-American, like me, and Larry got what a Chinese husband expects to get when he marries a good Chinese girl.

When Vicky gets married, if she ever does, her husband very definitely won't get what a Chinese husband expects to get, because Vicky is not a good Chinese girl. I do hope she doesn't marry a Chinese guy, because Vicky's not like me at all. I don't criticize her though, because I know Vicky, and she's always been such a good friend to me. Weeks and weeks ago, when I was still shocked about Larry's fantasies, and I told her what Larry's fantasies were all about, she'd looked at me wide-eyed, and then she'd smiled.

"Would he be interested in two girls at once?" she asked, and then she'd giggled. "I wouldn't mind at all, Tiff. He's really rather hunky."

I'd actually been even more shocked, because I knew Vicky. She was serious, and after that, I had a whole new set of fantasies to deal with, and it all got rather mixed up in my head for a while, although I didn't share my new fantasies with Larry. Vicky did introduce me to Gunnar, though, after I asked her, which was actually really embarrassing, because Vicky's not at all subtle. Really, she's a slut, but she is my friend, and all I know about sex, except for a few months of practical experience with Larry of course, I've learned from Vicky.

She knows a lot.

"Champagne?" the waiter says.

"Please," I say, and he pours for me, and then for Larry. Bollinger. I asked for a bottle of Bollinger when I booked the table, and it's beautifully chilled. Just right.

"Happy Valentine's Day," I say to my husband, lifting my champagne flute.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Tiffany," he says, looking around. "You really arranged everything."

I'm smiling, because I did. Everything. This. The hotel room upstairs.

Our guest.

"You want to what, Tiffany?" Vicky had squealed. "You're not serious. You can't be."

"I am," I'd said, my cheeks burning, because we were in a bar, and it was noisy, but she'd really squealed. Loudly. So loudly people had looked. "Larry, he really... I've been thinking about it, Vicky, and he really wants to, and I was reading those articles in, you know, Cosmo, that said you should be adventurous and do these things to spice up your marriage, so I was thinking..."

"That's bullshit, Tiff," Vicky said. "Look in the mirror. The only thing your marriage needs to spice it up is you naked, girl. You're hot enough to... well, look around. See all those guys looking. They're not looking at me."

"Yes they are," I said, but really, I tried to pretend guys didn't look at me all the time, but I knew they did, and it wasn't just that there were lots of guys that had yellow fever. There were, but there were a lot that didn't, and they looked too. They had, ever since... well, let's not go there.