Stepping out of the shower, Laura felt relieved that neither Marco nor the other men were any longer there. She tied tightly at her waist the fluffy white robe she had entered her spa in, making sure it only opened into a monastic cleavage. That was all it took to make her feel like having come back to her reassuring and respectable normality. Strengthened by this regained confidence, she headed decisively towards the external space surrounding the wellness area.
Laura immediately identified the chair where her husband was lying and confidently aimed at the one alongside and abandoned herself, making herself comfortable. She found Giulio apparently immersed in reading a book. She tried to read the title, but her attempt remained in vain until she, astonished, realized that he was holding him upside down. It took her a second to understand that her husband, with his ostentatious tranquility, was trying to hide a completely different state of mind: he was clearly overwhelmed by the course of events, of which, moreover, he knew only a small part.
She then wrapped herself in her more sweet and maternal gaze and leaned towards him. Without a word, she took the book from his hands and returned it to him after turning it in the right direction.
He was amazed by that gesture and looked at her questioningly, long enough to realize to have been unveiled. He looked at her with embarrassment, and they both burst into liberating laughter. No one around there could understand what was happening between them, making them feel closer than they had been in a long time.
That moment of familiar intimacy and hilarity had been enough to overcome the embarrassment, allowing both of them to avoid the impossible explanations of each other behavior. It was not enough tough to calm the excitement that the afternoon events had aroused in Giulio and Laura. It was she who felt, that time, the need to take matters into her own hands. She thus stood up, drawing him to her with a sensual and promising gaze. She kept that gaze fixed on him until they reached their room, making his blood boil with an expectation that she knew she would not be disappointed.
Entering the room, Laura got immediately rid of the bathrobe she had previously wrapped around her body without leaving an inch of skin exposed more than necessary. She was now completely naked behind the slowly closing door. Ravenously, Laura jumped towards her husband with a single leap just after hearing the lock and wrapped her legs around his body. She hungrily looked for his mouth with uncontrolled desire, and soon they were making love with almost animalistic fury.
Laura was giving free rein to the excitement that her crazy afternoon had made mounting under her skin. Giulio, on his side, gratefully welcomed the explosion of sensuality her woman was giving him. Their embrace was too wild for him to be able to last long, and in fact, it took a few tens of seconds for them both to come. Laura indulged in a series of strangled moans, her face wonderfully contorted by pleasure. Her calves tightly tightened around her husband's legs as if to force him to enter more deeply inside her. On his part, Giulio certainly did not need that muscular constriction to respond with determination to the desire to possess her. He always loved being able to hold back his orgasm until his wife's explosion, although it happened not too often. To linger to observe her face in that absolute abandonment was priceless for him and always made him think of the evocative way in which the French call orgasm: the "little death" followed by the rebirth of a body regenerated by pleasure.
For him, too, the excitement had grown beyond all possibility of control. He resisted only a few seconds at the sight of his wife's pleasure before coming in her warm intimacy. It was heaven her continuing throbbing and squeezing him with the residual orgasm spasms.
After making love, whenever time allowed it, they used to stay tied and embraced. He remained inside her until any trace of stiffness left his sex, sliding it out of her vagina, back into its dishonorable softness. It was for them one of the times of highest intimacy, even more than the embrace that had preceded it, and they always tried to make it last as long as possible. But finally, they had to give up, the physics of their body stronger than their will.
Giulio had to make an effort to give up that intense moment, so tenderly enjoyed, too attracted by the desire of getting lost in her body. He could not resist her curves softly abandoned between the sheets, her naked, beautifully beaded by perspiration.
He paused to observe the small breasts that gravity caused to enlarge on her chest, still shaken by a labored breath. He tenderly brought his face close to her stomach, whose feminine softness had learned to love, timidly stretching the tip of his tongue. He started to wet the groove running from her navel down to her pubis, seeing the creamy white liquid, so generously poured into her, slipping out of her vagina. Strangely that view did not give him the slightly revolting sensation that the contact, and even the sight of it, usually caused after he came. He was even amazed by it and felt almost attracted to that open vagina dripping with the juices that, after intercourse, usually lost all attraction for him.
He would never know, however, what would have been the epilogue of that hypnotic attraction. Would the desire to approach and kiss his wife's dirty and used vagina prevail over the ancestral disgust of a heterosexual man towards seminal fluid? He would never know because, for his wife, it was too much: fearing that she had understood what her husband seemed to be about to do, she screamed in horror, getting up and running into the bathroom to slip back into a refreshing shower, turning amused to look at him before closing the door.
That evening, at dinner with the children in the hotel restaurant, any mention of what had happened a few hours before was naturally precluded, and they had to limit just to allusive references.
Laura wore one of the most chaste dresses, as if feeling compelled to recover, with that ordinary outfit, her afternoon exhibitionistic excesses.
She had done it too to challenge her husband: she wanted to see his reaction that night at her sheathed in a dress suitable for a woman 20 or 30 years older. Giulio had strangely not flinched at her, only briefly stopping while seeing her take that dress. He had been about to object and suggest some different and more daring dress. For the first time, though, he had feared to be almost there to open Pandora's box, arming a reaction he was not sure to be ready to manage and bear.
After his wife had decided to respond to his game in the sauna, fully undressing in front of Marco, he could not foresee her future behavior. What would she have done if he had insisted on her more generously showing herself?
Giulio, therefore, decided not to push her, at least for the moment. He had to wait until it would have been clear how far could go his desire to see her exposed to the lustful gazes of other men.
Now, she was there, beautiful as a mother satisfied with her life. And he was already regretting to have not said anything. He got closer to her ear and, speaking softly so as not to be heard by the children, whispered:
"I cannot get out of my eyes the image of you freeing yourself from the towel, undressing in that sauna!"
Laura did not miss the opportunity to relaunch their game and quickly replied:
"And I, confession by confession, cannot get the image of my masseur's naked body out of my mind...".
She threw it there as if nothing had happened, immediately resuming her talk with one of the children, but, at last, could not resist: turned to him very seriously, rejoiced in catching the bewilderment in his gaze and, only after having tasted the fruit of her success, broke into a large and amused smile: "I was joking, Giulio, don't worry ...".
But he didn't calm down at all. Maybe Laura was joking, but the speed of her answer suggested that a grain of truth was there.
Neither of them slept very well that night.
Giulio was forced, perhaps for the first time, to look inside himself. It was time to understand what were the real limits of that game that had always excited him, animating his fantasies with a persistence that amazed him too. It had always been easy for him to push his wife to be more daring in dressing up. Or in undressing, as she said. The resistances were so many that a very long distance had to be gone through before reaching the extreme bounds of decency and good taste. Even he didn't want to overcome those limits, so that was the edge.
The only sign of potential willingness for his wife to indulge in some exhibitionism had been, a few years earlier, to remain topless on some not too crowded beaches. Before the children's birth, and for some time even after, her resistance to expose her breasts had become increasingly mild, to the point that Giulio no longer even needed to suggest it. On some days, she had even agreed to remain topless during the bath, remaining uncovered while walking the distance separating from the water and thus brazenly and generously exposing himself.
Those old experiences had shown Giulio that his wife was willing to walk through those fantasies, despite the resistance of her education. He didn't know how much, but he felt that his wife's response was not entirely negative.
Meanwhile, he had learned that his fantasies were no rare and that many men dreamed, or perhaps practiced, some experiences of generous partner's sharing. Very many, according to the number of websites dedicated to these fantasies and practices. The "simple" exposure of his wife to other man gazes was, in those web sites, only the most chaste of desires or behaviors. With increasing forbidden behavior level, those practices led to couple swapping, to enjoy watching one's wife sleep with strangers, even to wild and promiscuous forms of group sex.
He had never questioned whether any of those extreme experiences would be acceptable to him, not seriously at least. But he couldn't deny that he found them very arousing, even more so if he imagined that his wife was involved in them.
The idea of watching her relish in another man's arms sometimes aroused him very intensely. Other times his fantasy implied her going out with another man: he would wait awake for her, leaving her free to get fucked, if she felt like it, but honest in telling him, afterward, every most extreme detail of her encounter. He would overcome the uncontrollable jealousy that his mind, left free to wander, would have fueled, like a burning fire, inside him. In this fantasy, he would welcome her, relieved to see her return but delightfully tormented by the smell on her body of intercourse with another man. In her breath, he would feel the taste of the pleasure that her partner, he dared to imagine, would have poured into her mouth. The only thought that Laura could have abandoned herself, with those occasional lovers, to vile and lascivious experiences aroused him to no end. She would put her body in other men's hands, letting herself do things always denied to him, things whose only thought, in other moments, would have made her blush with shame. Was it what he really wanted?
He knew, however, that this wasn't the case.
Reality would be very different, different from the projection of his running free imagination and the arousing and engaging images produced by his mind.
None of those behaviors could withstand the conflicting emotions that his love for Laura, the social customs, the received education would have armed in defense of their peaceful life.
Of course, it would have been a terrible fight: the fiery passion, fueled by the most perverse and immoral thoughts and capable of setting fears and desires in motion in a whirlwind of incredible sensations, against the reassuring everyday life made up of serene moments of profound happiness. That struggle would establish the victory of their familiar normality, sure. But, somewhere in his brain, the belief, or the hope, that an armistice was possible remained alive, leaving space for the dark paths of desire.
Laura's mind as well was filled with thoughts full of contradictions. She could not understand how she could have resolved to act in that reckless way: completely undressing in front of a stranger she had met shortly before, while sharing with him the small space of a sauna, maintaining that nakedness even outside the wooden cubicle, entertaining herself inside a shower with that same man, and then coming back in the sauna to undress again, the only woman in the presence of other men, none of whom naked in turn. All this behavior was inexplicable for her, contrary to all her believings, very far from her everyday life. And yet, what shocked her most, it was all so damned exciting and intriguing as few things had ever been for her.
She felt her shame and embarrassment renewed within her at the very thought of having, deliberately, spread her legs to show herself even more to those men. She trembled, thinking that her pussy lips had opened, gifting those lucky people with an obscene vision she would hesitate to offer even to her mirror. She needed to erase from her mind what had happened. To think that it was only the result of her imagination, to go on closing that episode forever. She needed it from herself, but that thought renewed an excitement she had never felt before. She liked to bask in it, feeling the need to give pleasure to herself.
Of course, Giulio was lying next to her, and a single gesture would have been enough to make him understand that she wanted him. Even this, however, was impossible for some reason: never, in the twenty-five years spent together, she had been the first to make such a gesture, always waiting for him to take the initiative and reserving the right to respond positively or deny herself. She knew that this was unfair to her husband and, even more so, to herself, but it seemed an even more difficult wall to cross than the ones she had broken down that day.
And then there was that incomprehensible behavior of her husband. She could even go beyond the game launched by him leaving her alone, in the sauna: she was even willing to consider it a simple moment of madness. But his reaction to the tale of what followed? After dinner, when they had found some intimacy after putting the children to sleep, she had told him everything. She had not hidden even the most indecent details of her afternoon. And what had he done? Had he invested her with insults? Or even slapped her in the face for the lack of respect towards herself and their marriage? No, nothing, he had remained silent, motionless, but not a little angry. She was sure to have even caught his arousal in front of her shameful confession.
She had been resolute in announcing that next morning she would have immediately canceled the booked massage. She had been uncertain from the beginning since informed that a man would have practiced it. But now, after what had happened with that man, that massage was absolutely out of the question.
And yet, even on that occasion, Giulio had not denied himself. He had claimed that that massage would be the most chaste and peaceful experience, insisting so much that she wondered if he wanted to push her into Marco's arms. Well, if he insisted! She certainly would not have minded abandoning herself in those arms. Going even beyond the exhibition of her own body and letting him touch it, manipulate it, let him feel it shiver under her expert hands.
She had warned him he was playing with fire:
"Do you understand, Giulio, that I am no longer sure of myself and of my ability to behave as a married woman should do?" But this confession had had the opposite effect on Giulio, seemingly multiplying her husband's efforts to convince her.
Laura remained awake for at least two hours, overwhelmed by these conflicting thoughts, unsure of what she should do tomorrow. She then finally felt asleep, while her dreams were populated by images that she would not have dared to confess even to herself.