You Can’t Rewind Reality

"Bullshit," Vicky said, and then she took both my hands in hers. "Don't be stupid, Tiffany. Just because Larry's got these little fantasies doesn't mean you need to indulge them. Leave him to watch his movies and jerk off when you're not around, although if he does jerk off when he's married to you, he's, pardon my French, a fucking idiot."

She'd eyed me across the table. "Is he, you know, can he get it up?" she asked suspiciously. "You're not thinking about this because he can't get it up, are you?"

"No!" I squealed. "Of course he can get it up!" My cheeks didn't just burn, they flamed, because now everyone was looking at us.

"It's just..." I looked at Vicky. "You know me, Vicky. We've been friends since JK, and I never, not with anyone, until I married Larry, and I..." I looked around and now I was whispering. "...I never, you know, with anyone, not until I was married."

Vicky giggled. "Okay, I get it, Tiffany. Now you've finally discovered you like fucking, and you want to make up for lost time."

"Aiyaaaah, it's not like that, Vicky!" I squealed, face flaming as everyone looked. Again.

Vicky giggled. "It's okay, I get it, Tiff. I told you years ago you should try it, you'd like it, and you do, don't you?"

"Aiyaaah, of course I do," I said. "But I'm married now."

"You just listened to your parents and that Father Auyeung too much," Vicky said. "You didn't even come to those Church Halloween Balls. They were fun."

"Father Auyeung's a pervert," I said, wrinkling my nose.

"You don't know the half of it, Tiffany," Vicky said, smiling. "Anyhow, forget Father Auyeung. We were talking about you and Larry, and those fantasies of his. You'll have to show me those movies."

I'd shrugged. "He's working really late tonight. Come and look at them now." Because we were in the bar on the ground floor of the condo tower Larry and I lived in.

"Aiyaaaaah," Vicky said, half an hour later. "That looks like fun. Are you sure his fantasies don't involve two girls?"

"I could ask him," I said, a little doubtfully.

Vicky giggled. "Don't you dare, Tiff. You should never share your husband with another woman. Not unless you want to get rid of him. You don't, do you?"

"Aiyaaah, of course not!" I said. "I love him. It's just..." I looked back at the movie we were watching. "He fantasizes about stuff like this all the time, and he wants me to, you know, try it."

"He's weird," Vicky said. "I mean, seriously, Tiff, guys drool over you. You could have married anyone you wanted. Why pick a guy that has these sorts of fantasies?"

"They're kind of exciting," I said, a little breathlessly, watching. They really were.

"You've never even tried anything like that, Tiff," Vicky said. "I mean, you could have, easily, back when we were at high school. Even the teachers perved over you."

I giggled, because I did remember. "Mr. Dawson," I said.

"Mr. Jarvis," Vicky said. "He used to get a woody in class, just looking at you."

"He didn't!" I squealed.

"He did," she said, laughing. "Everyone knew. All the girls, anyhow."

"No-one ever said anything to me," I said.

"Everyone knew you wouldn't have understood," Vicky said, laughing.

"I would so have understood!" I said. "Well, maybe not." Because I probably wouldn't.

"You could have got it all out of your system before you got married," she said.

"Like you?" I said, a little bit cattily.

Vicky grinned. "Like me," she said. "I mean, this stuff..." She glanced at the screen. "It's fun, but you know, maybe not when you're married."

"You've done things like this?" I asked, and all of a sudden I was breathless. "What's it like?"

"Well, with two guys like that, it's a lot of fun," Vicky said, and then she giggled. "You really want to do this, don't you, Tiff?"

"Yes!" I said, blushing. "Larry really wants to, and I'd like to, you know, try it."

"Wouldn't you rather, you know, try it without Larry knowing, first," Vicky said. "That'd be easy and you could see if you actually liked it before you, you know, went ahead with Larry. No harm, no foul. If you didn't like it, Larry wouldn't ever need to know."

"No way!" I said indignantly. "That'd be cheating on my husband. I couldn't do that."

"Tiffany, do you have any idea how silly that sounds?" Vicky said.

I giggled, because actually, I did. "It'd still be cheating," I said, virtuously. "And I'd like to, but I want to arrange it for Larry, for Valentine's Day. Something special, but I don't know any guys who... and I thought you might... you know, you have lots of friends, Vicky."

"Tiffany!" Vicky said, and she was laughing at me. "Aiyaaaaah, what are friends for... If you really want to, I can..."

"It's got to be a surprise," I said. "For me too. I want you to, you know, pick someone really good." Now it was me that giggled, breathlessly. "A Valentine's Day present."

"It's going to be a really weird Valentine's Day," Vicky said, eyeing me like I was crazy. "I've never done anything like this, and..." She shook her head.

"You'll help me though, won't you?" I asked.

"Aiyaaaah, I think you're crazy, Tiff, but okay. Okay. I'll help you," she said. "Just don't blame me if Larry..."

"It's Larry's fantasy," I said, smiling. "I'd just like to make it come true for him.

"Some things are better staying fantasies," Vicky said. "Believe me, Tiff. They are."

"Who did we invite?" Larry asks again.

"I invited him," I say. "He's a friend of Vicky's," and I smile, because of course, even if I've never met him in person, I talked to him after Vicky connected us. I told him about Larry's fantasies, and he said that of course he was interested, and we did talk about tonight. It was really embarrassing, but he did understand. We talked, and then I invited him to dinner tonight. Dinner, and... afterwards. My heart pounds wildly, because I haven't said a thing to Larry about him until now. Larry doesn't know yet. It's his surprise Valentine's Day present from me, so of course he doesn't know.

Not yet.

He's going to, soon.

In just a few more minutes.

There's that black hole inside of me.

"His name's Gunnar," I add, not quite choking.

I'm a little dizzy and light headed as I sit there waiting though, because I've never done this before. I've never even imagined doing anything like this before. Larry's told me all about his little fantasies, and he's tried to persuade me, but now he has and he doesn't know it yet. He wanted to, but Gunnar is all my idea, and my insides are clenched tight and churning, because this is the first time. I want to give Larry a very special Valentine's Day present, one he'll always remember, and I'm sure I know what Larry likes now.

I know something else too.

I know I really like Larry's fantasies.

I'm going to enjoy Larry's fantasies coming true.

Tonight, I'm going to enjoy giving Larry what he desires.

"Who's Gunnar?" Larry's looking confused as I sit there, waiting.

"Him," I say, and Larry's eyes follow the direction of my gaze.

Gunnar looks so handsome. I recognize him instantly from our Facetime call. Now he's here, and he looks exactly as he did in that call. Better, even. Handsome. He's tall, over six feet tall, and he's built. Broad shouldered. Muscular, fit, the sort of guy that does weights, and trains hard. Of course, he's not Chinese, like Larry or me. It's Valentine's Day, and I know Larry's fantasies now. Gunnar's a gweilo. He's very very big, very very blonde, and very tanned. That lovely dark brown tan that surfers have, guys from California or around there, and I wonder if that's where Gunnar is from.

He actually doesn't dress quite like I'd expected. All of Vicky's boyfriend's that I've met had been hipsters, or, you know, they follow the latest trends, or they're the other extreme, rough and dangerous looking. Gunnar doesn't look like one of Vicky's boyfriends at all. I wonder where she met him.

Gunnar's wearing a suit. A rather nice suit, Hugo Boss I think, and he's a little older than I expected. A businessman, professional, like Larry, but he has something Larry doesn't have. An aura of assurance. Power. Control, and I think I know what he is. Ever since Larry told me about his fantasies, I've been reading up on them.

Gunnar's a bull.

The way he looks me over as he stands beside our table, he looks exactly like the sort of bull that I wanted tonight for Larry. He looks exactly like the sort of big buff guy who enjoys taking Chinese girls like me right in front of their husbands.

"Hi, Tiffany. You look even more attractive in person than Vicky told me you were." Gunnar's voice is low and deep, husky, sending little ripples of anticipation washing through me, all the way to my toes and the tips of my ears. In person, he's everything Vicky said he was. His smile takes my insides, squeezes them, and twists them tight. My sex pulses with slow anticipation, because I know what's going to happen tonight. First we're going to have dinner with him.

Then Larry's going to get his Valentine's Day present.

Larry's looking a little surprised. Well, not really surprised. Actually, he looks a little stunned. More than a little stunned. He looks shocked, and I smile. "Larry, this is Gunnar. He's joining us for dinner. Gunnar, this is my husband, Larry."

Sitting beside Larry, holding Larry's hand, I smile shyly as Gunnar's eyes look me over. They drink me in, and his smile says he likes that drink. I eye him as well, and I definitely like what I see. He's big, he's over six feet. His suit's beautiful, it has that cut, and I'm sure he has six-pack abs, and I just know he's a bull. I know what that means now, and my insides ripple. My nipples are already swollen and full, but now they engorge so much that they hurt, pushing against the thin material of my little black dress.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Larry," Gunnar says, taking his hand firmly, shaking, and he's big. He'd tower over Larry if they were both standing. His hand engulfs Larry's. "Pleased to meet you. I've heard a lot about you... from Tiffany."

He smiles at me, warmly. "I'm pleased to meet you both."

I smile back, blushing a little, because I'm sure he is, and unlike Larry, I know why.

"Hi, Gunnar, pleased to meet you," Larry says, uncertainly.

I do wonder what Larry's thinking? Is he thinking of those fantasies of his? Is he thinking of those movies he introduced me to? Is he thinking of those things he whispered in my ears as we made love? I'm not sure what he's thinking, but I do know something. Larry won't need to imagine for much longer. Not tonight.

I smile, but my cheeks are pink. My nipples are even more swollen than they were, and they don't ache anymore. They hurt, and because that little black dress is so thin, Larry notices my nipples. Of course he does. The V-front of that little black dress is shamelessly translucent. Almost transparent, that's why I chose this dress for tonight. I wanted Larry to see, and my nipples are so engorged. Larry glances from my nipples to my face, and I smile again, my cheeks a little pinker, and I don't need to imagine what Larry's thinking at all.

His face says everything I need to know.

It's even more exciting that this is Valentine's Day.

And that tonight Larry's getting his Valentine's Day present.

"Tiffany did mention we were having a guest for dinner," he chokes out.

Of course, he doesn't mention that I've only just told him, or that he's confused.

"Why don't you sit down, Gunnar," I say, smiling as he slides in, next to me. I'm smiling, but really, I want to pant, and moan, and make excited little noises the way I do for Larry when he tells me about those fantasies of his. Because this isn't a fantasy. Not anymore. Not now that Gunnar's here, sitting next to me, and I wonder if Larry's beginning to understand.

It doesn't matter if he hasn't, he will very soon, and I'm almost trembling with anticipation, my skin tingling everywhere. I smile, and drawing it out like this makes it even better, for me. I'm sure it makes it better for Larry, too. That smile on Gunnar's face says he's enjoying this too, but of course he knows what he's going to be doing soon. He's not impatient, either. He told me he'd be here tonight for me. That it's my Valentine's Day, as well as Larry's, and that everything that happens tonight is my decision. Gunnar said he was here for me, and he knows what I want.

I know what Gunnar wants, and I'm sure I know what Larry wants.

I do wonder if Larry's beginning to understand.

"We have Bollinger, Gunnar. Would you like a glass?"

"Yes, thanks, Tiffany," Gunnar says.

I pour for him. I pour a second glass for Larry, because I'm sure he's going to need a lot more alcohol in him than Gunnar will, and I hand them each their glass, smiling.

"Thanks, Tiffany," Gunnar says again, sipping.

My heart's pounding, my insides are clenched tight, and I'm on fire, my skin burning now, burning everywhere, and I know how wet with excitement I am. I know how engorged my nipples are. They're so swollen they really really hurt, and Larry does notice.

He keeps looking, and I give him a smile.

"You're welcome, Gunnar," I say, and then I turn back to Larry, and my heart's pounding so hard. It's like jumping off a rock into an ice-cold lake, or pushing yourself off from the start of a flying fox. You know it's going to be scary, but you also know it's going to be thrilling once you start. You're scared and excited, but you know you're going to do it, you're enjoying the anticipation, and Gunnar's eyeing my nipples too. He's enjoying the anticipation, I'm sure, but he knows what he's anticipating.

Larry doesn't, and I like that, too. Larry's not sure what's happening. He's uncertain.

Gunnar's not uncertain. Gunnar's not nervous. Gunnar knows exactly why he's here, and he knows what he wants. Me. One look from him, and I know he's going to take what he wants. I know what that means, after dinner, for me, and my insides tighten and dance all over again. Gunnar's a bull, and I know who he's going to be a bull for, tonight.

Me.

While Larry watches.

That's Larry's Valentine's Day present.

"It's good of you and Larry to invite me tonight," Gunnar says, smiling, and his smile as he looks me up and down grows, saying that he definitely likes what he sees. "It's a real pleasure to meet your beautiful wife, Larry. I'm really looking forward to this evening."

Gunnar's hand, the hand closest to me, moves to rest on my thigh. Not my knee. My thigh. High on my thigh, half way between my knee and the hem of my little black evening dress, and I shiver with excitement. I don't think that Larry's noticed, but I'm sure he will, eventually. I hope it's exciting for him, because it's very very exciting for me.

It's even better that this is Larry's fantasy.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, too, Gunnar," Larry says, uncertainly.

"Cheers," Gunnar says, his glass clinking against Larry's, and then mine. "I'm sure we'll all enjoy getting to know each other much better over this evening." His hand slides a little higher on my thigh, then a lot higher. He smiles down at me, his hand so very high on my thigh that it's almost not my thigh anymore, and I know he plans to get to know me better. A lot better.

"Let's take a look... at the menu."

Dinner's wonderful. The restaurant is really good, and I enjoy every bite. I don't eat that much though, because I'm nervous. Nervous, because I've never done anything like this before, and I'm so very very excited that it's hard to eat much. Larry's confused. He's not sure what's happening, or why Gunnar has joined us for dinner, and he's on edge.

I'm also nervous because Gunnar's hand is mostly on my thigh, very high now. I'm conscious all through dinner of his hand. Sometimes it leaves me, but it always returns to rest on my thigh, as if my thigh belongs to him. Every now and then I rest one of my hands on his, and smile up at him. Every now and then, I look down at his hand on me, concealed by the pristine white tablecloth.

"That steak looks delicious," I say, half way through my own main course, a bouillabaisse. It's delicious, it really is. The best bouillabaisse I've ever had, and I'm drinking a glass of Sauvignon Blanc with it. It's a Salmon Run Sauvignon Blanc, from Marlborough, in New Zealand. We've tried New Zealand sauvignon blancs before, they're really good. Much better than those watery and insipid Californian sauvignon blancs.

"Salmon Run? That should go with the bouillabaisse," Gunnar had said, and he'd ordered it for me, while Larry watched.

I'd giggled, but even if he'd just been being funny, he was right. It matches the soup perfectly, and I suspect the Bordeaux he and Larry are drinking matches their steaks. Gunnar seems like the sort of guy who ensures everything is exactly as he wants it. The way he glances at me and smiles, I realize I'm exactly what he wants, too. For Gunnar, I'm another item on tonight's menu of pleasures.

I wonder what that makes Larry.

I know the answer.

I smile.

"The bearnaise?" Gunnar asks. He smiles. "It's superb, Try some." He cuts a small piece, impales it on his fork, and offers it to me.

I lean forward, part my lips, take the steak that he's offering me, and chew it delicately. Tender, almost melting in my mouth, I chew and swallow. It really is good. I smile.

"It's delicious," I murmur, my eyes meeting his, and there's that long moment where his eyes hold mine, and all I can think of is that there's something else he can offer me, later, that I'd really like to take in my mouth and swallow.

"So are you, Tiffany," he says, unsmiling. I drink in that expression, and I'm sure he's going to enjoy the rest of this evening even more than he's enjoying his bearnaise now.

"Thank you," I murmur.

"My pleasure," he murmurs back.

I don't think either of us are talking about dinner.

"Some more wine, Gunnar?" Larry asks, very politely, his hand on the bottle, forestalling the waiter.

I like it that Larry's serving Gunnar. I like thinking about me serving Gunnar too. I really hope Larry's going to enjoy tonight, because I know I'm going to, and after a glass of champagne, and two of that Sauvignon Blanc, I'm not nervous at all. I'm not even a little scared. I'm eager to serve Gunnar.

I hope Larry really wants his fantasies to come true, because I know they will.

"Sure, Larry," Gunnar says, watching as Larry refills his glass. "This Bordeaux's superb."

Gunnar smiles as he sips. His other hand is back on my thigh again, and I know Larry's noticed now. He hasn't said a thing, but every now and then, he's glanced down. I know what he'll see. Gunnar's hand isn't quite under my dress, but it's very close. If my dress wasn't so short, his hand would be under it, and it wouldn't be on my thigh either.

"Larry," he says, his voice low and husky. Sensual. Just the way he says Larry's name sends little ripples of excitement washing through me.

"Yes, Gunnar?" Larry replies.

"Your wife's very attractive." He smiles down at me. I smile back.

"Yes, she is," Larry says, smiling at me, then glances down at Gunnar's hand on my thigh. He swallows.

My smile now is for Larry.

"I understand you enjoy watching... movies," Gunnar says. His smile is for Larry too. "I think we share similar... tastes."

Larry's eyes meet mine. His face reddens. He looks down at where Gunnar's hand is resting. He swallows. My cheeks don't quite flame, but they do burn, and my smile now is definitely for Larry. I reach down with one hand, and I find Larry's hand, and I hold it, my heart beating a lot faster than it has been.

"Uh..." Larry says, and I can see he's more than a little flustered. Of course he is. He didn't expect this, I'm sure.