Strangers Again
Ryan was already at the bar.
That was part of the game.
Tonight they weren’t husband and wife heading out for another date night.
Tonight they were strangers.
A first date.
They’d agreed to arrive separately and pretend, for as long as they could manage, that they had never met.
Ryan had arrived first, ordered a drink and chosen a seat with a clear view of the entrance.
Then the door opened.
Olivia walked in from the street.
Jesus.
For a moment, Ryan forgot they were pretending.
Her dark hair bounced in soft curls around her shoulders as she crossed the bar, her warm skin wrapped in a soft silk dress that seemed to move with her rather than simply hang from her body.
A subtle split revealed flashes of toned thigh as she walked, the result of years spent playing padel.
But that wasn’t attracting most of the attention.
The silk moved beautifully across her large, full, natural breasts as she walked, their soft movement keeping time with the dark curls bouncing around her shoulders. There was no bra beneath the dress, and whenever the fine material caught against her breasts, the shape of her nipples showed clearly through it.
Ryan wasn’t the only man who noticed.
One head turned.
Then another.
Then another.
Olivia noticed too.
Of course she did.
But she didn’t adjust the dress or try to cover herself.
If anything, the faint smile on her face suggested she rather liked knowing exactly what those men were looking at.
She reached Ryan’s table and looked him over as though deciding whether he matched his photographs.
Then smiled.
“Hello. I’m Olivia.”
Her soft Scottish accent somehow sounded different when she was pretending to introduce herself.
She held out her hand.
“Or Liv, if you need to shorten it.”
Ryan looked at the hand.
Then at her.
“Ryan.”
“Nice to meet you, Ryan.”
“Likewise.”
He pulled out the chair opposite.
Olivia sat and casually crossed one toned leg over the other, allowing the split in the silk to fall aside and expose more thigh.
Ryan looked.
Olivia caught him immediately.
“Everything all right?”
“Fine.”
“You’re staring.”
“Sorry. First-date nerves.”
“Is that what we’re calling it?”
Barely thirty seconds.
Already she was enjoying this far too much.
“What can I get you?”
Olivia told him.
Ryan went to the bar.
While he waited, he glanced back.
Another man was looking at her.
Olivia was pretending not to notice.
But Ryan knew that expression.
She knew.
And she liked knowing.
He carried the drink back towards the gorgeous dark-haired stranger waiting at his table.
His wife.
Except tonight she wasn’t.
Tonight she was Olivia.
Or Liv, if he earned it.
And suddenly pretending they’d never met seemed considerably more dangerous than either of them had expected.
One drink became two.
Two became another somewhere else.
Somewhere along the way, they became surprisingly committed to the game.
No talking about home.
No familiar stories.
Instead, they asked the questions people asked on first dates.
Where are you from?
What do you do?
What do you do for fun?
Olivia sat opposite him with one leg crossed over the other, occasionally allowing the split in her dress to fall open just enough to distract him.
Every time his eyes dropped, she caught him.
Eventually she laughed.
“You’re really not very subtle.”
“I’m trying.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Fine. The dress is distracting.”
Olivia glanced down innocently.
“This old thing?”
“Very convincing.”
She laughed and took another drink.
The alcohol helped.
But it wasn’t really the alcohol.
It was the freedom of pretending.
They knew each other intimately, yet tonight they could ask questions they would never normally think to ask.
“So, Olivia…”
“Liv.”
“I’ve earned that already?”
“Don’t get carried away.”
“What does Liv look for in a man?”
“Confidence.”
“Good start.”
“Sense of humour.”
“Still doing well.”
“Not too full of himself.”
Ryan grimaced.
“Ah. Nearly.”
Olivia laughed.
“And chemistry.”
Their eyes held.
“Important?”
“Very.”
“How do you know when you’ve got it?”
Olivia leaned towards him.
“You know.”
That was when the flirting changed.
Still playful.
But heavier.
“Experienced?” Olivia asked eventually.
“That sounds like an interview question.”
“Maybe it is.”
“In what?”
“Life.”
Ryan smiled.
“I’ve had a few adventures.”
“Oh?”
“That got your attention.”
“I’m just making conversation.”
“Of course.”
“So what counts as an adventure?”
“Things you probably wouldn’t put on a first-date questionnaire.”
Olivia’s eyebrows lifted.
“Now you’ve definitely got my attention.”
“What about you?”
“Maybe I’ve had adventures too.”
“Have you?”
“You’ll have to earn those stories.”
Ryan’s hand found her thigh beneath the table.
Tonight even touching his own wife felt as though he were taking a liberty with a woman he’d only just met.
Olivia looked down at his hand.
Then back at him.
She didn’t remove it.
“You do this on all your first dates?”
“Only the good ones.”
“Confident.”
“You said you liked confidence.”
“I said confidence. Not cheek.”
“Should I move my hand?”
Olivia glanced down.
“No.”
One word.
And suddenly the game felt considerably less innocent.
Another man glanced towards Olivia.
She noticed.
Ryan noticed her noticing.
“You like that tonight, don’t you?”
“Like what?”
“Being looked at.”
Olivia took another sip.
“Maybe I like being noticed.”
That felt less like part of the game.
More like something genuine slipping through.
She turned her glass slowly between her fingers.
“So tell me something you’ve done that you still think about.”
“No chance.”
“Oh, come on.”
Ryan took another drink.
“It’s not exactly a fantasy…”
“That sounds promising already.”
“I had a lap dance years ago.”
Olivia raised an eyebrow.
“Did you?”
“Long before you.”
She laughed.
“I wasn’t about to start checking dates.”
“And?” she asked.
“And what?”
“Was it good?”
Ryan hesitated for just long enough to give himself away.
Olivia laughed.
“That good?”
“It was… memorable.”
“What did you like about it?”
Ryan considered the question.
“The closeness, I suppose. That was probably the biggest thing. Having this gorgeous woman I didn’t know dancing right in front of me. A complete stranger deliberately getting that close.”
“How close?”
“Really fucking close.”
Olivia smiled.
Ryan continued.
“Close enough that her tits and eventually her naked body were only inches away from me. You’re sitting there with this woman you’ve never met before moving around you, leaning over you, deliberately bringing herself right into your space. There’s something about having a stranger’s body that close that makes it feel completely different.”
Olivia studied him.
“And you liked that?”
“Yeah. The fact she was a stranger was probably part of it. I could look at her properly because that was literally what she wanted me to do. She was deliberately trying to turn me on and she knew perfectly well whether it was working.”
Olivia’s eyes dropped briefly towards his trousers.
“I’m guessing it worked.”
“Obviously.”
“And you’ve thought about having another one?”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“Fine. Yes.”
She didn’t seem remotely bothered.
If anything, the confession had put a different look in her eyes.
Ryan leaned forward.
“The fantasy isn’t really just getting another lap dance, though.”
Olivia’s eyebrows lifted.
“No?”
“Having one with my partner there, watching.”
That caught her attention.
“Me watching?”
“Yeah.”
Olivia went quiet.
Then:
“Would that turn you on?”
“Massively.”
“Watching another woman dance for you while your wife’s sitting beside you?”
Ryan smiled.
“When you put it like that…”
“I think that’s exactly how you mean it.”
They both laughed.
Then Olivia surprised him.
“So let’s do it.”
Ryan thought he’d misheard her.
“What?”
“Let’s go and get you a lap dance.”
“You’re serious?”
“Why not?”
“Because five minutes ago this was just something I was telling you about.”
Olivia finished her drink.
“And now I’m curious.”
“About what?”
She leaned towards him.
“I want to see your face when another woman starts dancing for you.”
A beat.
“And I want to see how I feel watching it.”
Ryan smiled.
“This could be dangerous.”
Olivia picked up her handbag.
“Then we’d better find out.”
Less than half an hour later they were walking through the city looking for a strip club.
The conversation had left both of them increasingly worked up.
Ryan slipped his arm around Olivia.
His hand travelled down her back and settled across her arse through the silk.
At first he simply rested it there.
Then squeezed.
Olivia pushed subtly backwards into his palm.
The silk was so fine there was very little disguise to it. Olivia’s nipples were hard beneath it now, clearly outlined, and she had already attracted more than a few passing glances.
A couple approaching them looked a little too long.
Olivia caught them.
Instead of covering herself, she straightened slightly and continued walking.
Ryan smiled.
“You saw that.”
“Saw what?”
“Them looking at you.”
Olivia glanced sideways.
“And?”
Another group passed.
Another glance.
This time Olivia smiled openly.
She liked it.
Not simply Ryan wanting her.
Other people noticing her too.
By the time they reached the strip club, Ryan had a definite hard-on beneath his trousers.
And neither was pretending they were simply going inside to watch.
Inside, the atmosphere changed immediately.
Low lighting.
Heavy music.
Glasses clinking at the bar.
Women moved between tables in tiny outfits while a topless dancer worked the pole on the small stage wearing nothing but a thong, her bare breasts moving naturally as she twisted around it.
Ryan ordered drinks.
They watched.
After a few moments he became aware of Olivia studying him.
“What?”
“I told you. I wanted to see your face.”
Then someone else caught his eye.
A dark-haired dancer walked past their table wearing a delicate white lace bra and matching lace pants.
She was stunning.
Athletic but beautifully feminine, with naturally warm olive skin, dark wavy hair and striking Mediterranean features.
The white lace stood out beautifully against the natural warmth of her complexion, but the delicate material concealed remarkably little.
Her waist curved tightly inward before widening naturally through her hips.
Her large, full, natural breasts were clearly outlined beneath the soft lace—even fuller than Olivia’s—and the darker colour of her nipples could easily be seen through the fine white material.
The matching lace pants followed the natural shape of her body closely. There was no dark hair visible beneath them; she was completely shaved, and the sheer lace left very little to the imagination.
Ryan’s eyes followed her.
Olivia caught him immediately.
“Oh.”
“What?”
“I think we’ve found your dancer.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t need to.”
A few minutes later she passed again.
Closer this time.
Her eyes met Ryan’s.
Then Olivia’s.
A small smile.
And she kept walking.
Olivia watched her go.
“She is gorgeous.”
“You think so?”
“I have eyes.”
Now Olivia was watching for her too.
They continued drinking, but every so often the dark-haired dancer appeared again.
Another glance.
Another smile.
Another second of eye contact.
By the third time Olivia laughed.
“She knows you’re watching her.”
“I think she knows you’re watching her too.”
“Maybe.”
Their glasses were almost empty when the dancer approached again.
This time, she wasn’t passing.
She came directly towards them.
“Having a good night?”
“Getting better,” Olivia said.
The dancer smiled.
“I’ve noticed you two watching.”
Ryan laughed.
“That obvious?”
“You were.”
She looked at Olivia.
“You were harder to read.”
Olivia raised an eyebrow.
“Was I?”
“A little.”
The dancer glanced at their empty glasses.
“Would you like to go somewhere quieter?”
Olivia’s hand settled on Ryan’s thigh.
Ryan looked at his wife.
This had been his fantasy.
Yet somehow Olivia seemed completely at ease with where it was heading.
“Yeah,” she said.
The dancer smiled.
“Come with me.”
Olivia took Ryan’s hand.
They followed.
The dancer glanced back over her shoulder, first at Ryan and then Olivia.
Olivia squeezed his hand.
“Still think this is a good idea?” Ryan whispered.
“Oh, absolutely.”
The dancer opened a door.
Olivia pulled Ryan after her.
And the noise of the club disappeared behind them.
