John
Liz walks our guest to
the door, gives him a hug, and then says, “Thanks for coming by.”
He
smiles. His teeth blindingly white. “My pleasure, keep me in mind.” Liz watches
him walk through the door, and then closes it behind her. Our eyes meet. She
leans back against the door, closes her eyes and then opens them. “Well, that
was, um, let’s just say, intense.”
“Yeah, it was.” I am laying on the bed, still naked, waiting
for the relaxation that usually comes after sex. Only it doesn’t come. I feel tense.
Vulnerable. I pull the blanket up to my chest. “What was it like for you? Was
it what you were expecting?”
She runs her right hand up and down the back of her head, a
habit of hers that - through years of observation - I know reveals contentment,
reminding me of a cat purring.
“I guess I thought it was going to be, I don’t know.” She
reaches for her wineglass and takes a big gulp. “I don’t really know what I
expected, to be honest. But I didn’t expect to feel so comfortable. And the
weirdest thing is that I felt in control. Like I was the one doing the seducing.”
She tilts her head and looks at me. “What about you?”
“I thought it was hot,” I tell her. “Like we talked about.
It was like seeing my hot wife fuck in a porno while I watched, wanting her to
be all mine.” I grab her hand. She leans in and I kiss her hard.
“Should we invite him back,” she asks, smiling.
“Maybe we should find you another stranger.” I almost laugh
out loud. The guy we spent the evening with tonight was a stranger.
But only to Liz.
I
know him as my boss.
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