Part 2 : Flirting With Fire

After Elliot's confession and Claire's growing intrigue with the effect her teasing comments had been having on her husband, their pillow talk and sex life changed. First off the increased sexual tension generated from this new game meant they were having sex more often. In that first week alone after the initial revelation they were intimate almost every night. They also communicated and spoke more when they were playing. What used to be the occasional soft murmurs under the covers during the throws of passion had become low, intense conversations with Claire coaxing more information from Elliot about his desires as she casually teased his cock. Each time they made love, Claire would find new ways to push his buttons to make him squirm beneath her or to eke additional details about this long hidden kink he had been cultivating in isolation. She would whisper ever more lurid filth into his ear as they fucked about flirtatious encounters in her day to day life to gauge his reaction. She incorporated more risque scenarios into this role-play to test how far his fantasy could stretch before breaking.

"Do you think he watches me because he wants me?" she whispered one night, straddling Elliot's thighs. Her hips moved in slow, unhurried circles, her hands resting lightly on his chest as the head of his cock slid between her slick pussy lips. Claire teasing Elliot with the promise of more but keeping herself tantalizingly just out of reach.

"Who? That neighbor... the one with the tattoos?" Elliot asked trying to sound casual.

Claire's eyes sparkled as she tilted her head. "His Name's Jordan" she said, leaving the statement hanging in the air between them as she assessed Elliot's reaction.

"Hang on, how do you know his name?" Elliot's pulse beat a little faster.

"We spoke a little in the elevator today. He asked which floor I was on," Claire responded a mischievous smile playing across her face.

Elliot looked slightly startled. "And you told him?"

"Mmhmm," she hummed, stretching lazily. "Of course I did. He was polite... charming, actually. And very sure of himself. Why wouldn't I? It's hard to ignore that kind of confidence." Her gaze flicked toward Elliot, gauging his reaction. Then her voice dipped slightly lower, more seductive in tone. "So do you think he'd want me... sexually I mean?" The question was casual, but her tone was anything but.

Elliot swallowed hard, his hands gripping the sheets. Their game suddenly turned up a notch and made more real just from a casual interaction in passing. "Yes," he breathed. "Yes, I'm sure he would."

Claire leaned in slightly, her smile turning wicked. "I think you're right. He always stands a little too close in the elevator," she went on, voice barely above a purr. "Today he was in gym clothes. Tight vest shirt. I could see the outline of everything." She leaned down, lips brushing Elliot's ear. "He smiled at me. Held the door open even though I was still halfway down the hallway. And when I passed him... his eyes were glued to my ass. I could see him checking me out in the mirror in the elevator. Our eyes met for a second, so he knew I'd caught him taking a good look at me, and do you know what he did" Elliot shook his head dumbly. "He just smiled."

"Fuck," Elliot groaned, hips bucking up.

She smiled against his neck again before pulling back, keeping herself just out of reach, her hand on his cock barely touching him. "I'm pretty sure he's noticed my wedding ring but it doesn't seem to put him off at all. If anything I think it might make him a little more determined to pursue me, just to see how far he can push it. Do you think he imagines me when he jerks off? Do you think he wonders what I'd sound like if he just bent me over and took what he wanted?"

Elliot could only nod, voice caught in his throat.

"And what if I just let him take me without resisting. If I begged for him to enter me. Just begged for his cock. Is that what you would want? would that turn you on?" Claire sat back, watching the desperation in his eyes. It lit something in her, a slow-burning confidence that had begun to bloom ever since they'd started this dance.

"Oh god." Elliot was trembling at the thought of Claire indulging his fantasy. "More than anything," he uttered.

She toyed with her own breast then, deliberately, her eyes locked on his. "You really want me to be someone else's little slut don't you?" she whispered, gently pinching herself as her nipples hardened beneath her touch. "To let someone bigger, stronger... take what's yours?"

"Yes but only if you want it," he managed. "Only if you choose it. I want it because you want it too."

That was the part that stuck with Claire. The way his desire didn't come from ownership, but surrender. He didn't want to give her away. He wanted to see her claim part of this fantasy for herself and give herself willingly to another. He wanted her to have the power. He wanted for this to be her choice if it happened not his. He wanted her to choose to go with someone else. To choose someone who could give her something that Elliot, as her husband, could not.

And slowly she was beginning to feel that desire rise in her too.

As the game progressed her demeanor began to change. Initially just in the wardrobe she chose. Shorter dresses and more revealing tops. Nothing too obvious just flirty little upgrades designed to attract attention. Enough to show more thigh when she stepped into the elevator. A little less bra and a little more lip gloss. Her hair up so her neck was bare drawing attention to the soft slope of her neck. Subtle and controlled. Their hellos turned into conversations. Passing nods became lingering glances, short exchanges in the lobby or outside the elevator that lasted a little longer than they used to.

It was clear that Jordan had begin to notice her more and there was a clear, if restrained, mutual attraction.

"New lipstick?" he asked one afternoon as they waited in the apartment building foyer for the elevator doors to open.

Claire smiled, nodding before tilting her head. "You noticed. Like it?"

"Hard not to," he replied flashing an easy grin. "It looks good."

That night, Elliot hung on every word as she described their encounter. How Jordan's eyes lingered just a second to long on her lips. How she didn't step back to allow more room as he entered the elevator. How the space between them had closed until she could feel the warmth radiating off his skin as they rose in silence, the tension crackling between them like electricity.

"You'd like to see it, wouldn't you?" she asked, lying on her side, her hand wrapped around Elliot's cock, stroking slowly, rhythmically. "Me in that elevator, not saying a word, letting him press me against the wall... pulling my dress up..."

Elliot moaned, lost in her words.

"Do you think he'd know how to fuck me better than you?" she whispered. "He strikes me as the kind of guy that would and wouldn't need asking twice. He looks like he's used to getting whatever and whoever he wants. You can tell by the way he looks at me. Like he already knows he could. don't you think?"

Elliot came hard in her hand, gasping her name like a prayer.

Claire watched him, a wicked little smile curving her lips. It thrilled her to see him unravel like this. It turned her on, this new power she held and the way her words could ignite him more than anything she'd ever done before.

Then over dinner one evening, Elliot received the first indication that this seemingly harmless but sexy game they had been playing could become something more. Claire dropped it so casually it almost didn't register at first. Just another brief interaction with Jordan from earlier that day.

"He asked if I had plans for the weekend," she said, sipping her wine.

Elliot raised an eyebrow, breath catching. "Oh yeah? What did you say?"

"I told him my husband was taking me out," she replied. "He smiled and said you were a lucky guy."

"I am. Was he flirting with you, even after you mentioned me?"

Claire shrugged. "Maybe. He looked me up and down again. Slower than usual. Like he was deep in thought. He's subtle but not that subtle. A girl knows. But it made me feel... wanted."

"You are wanted," Elliot said quickly, taking her hand. "By me. Always."

"I know," she said, eyes gleaming. "But maybe not just by you any more... and I kind of like it. It's fun... seeing how far I can push things." Elliot's rising excitement was tangible.

She leaned back slightly, her wine glass poised. "If I'm honest, it's kind of a thrill. Seeing how far I can take things without crossing any lines. Yet. But knowing I could if I wanted to."

Despite the way the words made his stomach twist, Elliot could feel something else rising, too -- that same aching mix of fear and arousal that had followed him ever since they first opened this door.

Claire saw it in his face. And she didn't back away.

She just sipped her wine, calm and radiant, and let the moment sit between them.

Later that night, as they lay tangled in bed sheets after more teasing and making out, she broke the silence with a whisper that felt like a dare. "What if I let him kiss me someday? Just to see the look on your face when I tell you afterward?" she murmured

Elliot's heart pounded. "I think I'd lose my mind."

Claire looked up at him, her eyes unreadable. "Would you stop me?"

He shook his head slowly. "No."

Claire kissed him. Slow and deliberate. There was tenderness but something else. Something wild and charged. Claire had an air of confidence and passion that had not been there previously. Or if it had, it had lain dormant waiting for this moment to emerge. A new kind of excitement that comes from discovering a piece of yourself you hadn't dared explore before.

When she pulled back, her voice was lower, surer. "I think I'm starting to love this," she said. "Feeling this... power. The possibility of having this freedom. Watching you squirm and fall apart when I tease you. Making you beg."

"I want you to, I really do." Elliot whispered. "Don't stop."

"I won't," she promised, and at that moment Elliot knew something had awakened in his wife that was no longer just for him.