Jill, my wife, and I attended the annual October formal of our dance club on a Saturday night. I was dressed in a standard tuxedo with a black bow tie. Jill wore a strapless, floor length forest-green sheath formal, spilt up the left leg to mid thigh, and a long string of pearls wrapped four times around her neck with the first loop tight against her throat and the last cascading to nestle against her breasts. Her blonde hair was in a bun. Her makeup was lightly applied with a hint of green eye shadow that drew attention to her emerald green eyes. Her lipstick was cherry red, matching her nails. Jill is five five, so her four inch heels brought her to my shoulder.

The dance was over at twelve thirty in the morning. As Jill and I visited with the crowd waiting for the parking valets to deliver our cars, she bubbled with excitement, giving her a sensual glow. When I eased my Mercedes from the parking lot and onto the street, Jill said, "Kyle came on to me again."

"I watched you dancing with him. It looked like he was making a hard pass," I replied.

"He was hard," she snickered.

"Did you get it?"

"Every word," she said proudly. "Do you want to hear it now?"

"Yes. Put it in the cassette player."

Jill opened her purse, popped the cassette in the player, and turned it on. I could hear myself, Jill, Kyle, and others, with a good deal of background noise. I heard Kyle ask Jill to dance and her acceptance. They made small talk as they worked their way to the dance floor.

I watched them when they danced. He'd pulled Jill close against him. She'd rested her midsection against his, but held her head back to look into his eyes. She gave him plenty of stimulation in the crouch area.

"You're so beautiful tonight," Kyle said.

"Thank you, Kyle," she replied. Her voice dripped with sexiness. "A lady always loves a compliment from a sexy man."

"Oh, you think I'm sexy?"

"Umm. You know I do."

"Quit teasing me."

"Why? We're both enjoying it."

"I'm not," he replied curtly.

"Oh, I thought you were," she said. Her musical voice was sensual teasing.

"I am, but..." he answered. "Dammit it, Jill, what's it going to take to get you in my bed?"

"Why would you want me in your bed?" she asked in an innocent, little girl voice.

"I wish I'd gone to high school here. I hear you were easy," he snarled.

"I was," she replied without rancor. "I would've screwed you then." Her voice dropped a whisper. "Things are different now. Now I'll screw you only if you ask the right way."

"How?" He was louder than he needed to be. "Tell me how, dammit it."

"Why should I?"

"Because I can't stop thinking about you."

"Even when you're with Emily?"

He sighed. "Sometimes."

"Just sometimes?" she pouted.

"A lot. Shit, it seems lately like I think of you every time I fuck her."

"Knowing you think of me while you're with your wife makes me feel special, Kyle. Thank you for telling me."

"That's how much I want you. You know that, don't that?"

"Yes, I know, but I'm Paul's wife. I can tease and fantasize, but not go any further... unless."

"Unless what?" he asked urgently. She didn't reply. "What?" he demanded.

"Unless Paul tells me to screw you."

Kyle gasped. "You're kidding me?"

"No. If Paul tells me to have sex with you, I'll gladly do it."

"Shit. Maybe I should just rape you."

Her voice was icy, her words clipped, when she replied, "I'm glad you think I'm worth a prison term, Kyle, but I'm not. If my teasing bothers you that much, I'll stop it. Maybe we shouldn't have any contact until you cool down."

"No. No. Don't do that," he begged.

"Do you really want me that much?" she asked, as if she were honored by his desires.

"You know I do."

"And now you know what to do to have me," she said with a lilt in her voice.

"Let's go outside," he pleaded.

"No, Kyle. I can feel your erection against my stomach. I don't trust you to get me alone in the dark," she teased.

He laughed bitterly. "I can't blame you there. I don't think I trust myself. Let's have sex without Paul knowing," he said. She didn't reply and there was a long silence. "Please, Jill," he whined. I smiled knowing how Jill despises a weak man. "I'd do anything."

"I don't believe you," she said, challenging him.

"Yes, I would do anything."

"You don't mean it because I told you what you have to do."

"I can't do that," he said dejectedly.

"Why not?" she asked.

"Because he'll want Emily."

"Of course he will. He's wanted Emily since we were in high school. If you want me, you'll get Emily into his bed," she replied. The music stopped. I remembered she leaned against him to whisper in his ear. "I want you, but Paul will have to tell me to do it. He won't tell me to screw you unless he has fucked Emily." She kissed him gently on the cheek before she turned and walked away, leaving Kyle with his mouth hanging open. I heard the recorder click off.

"Beautifully done, Jilly. Simply beautiful. You played him like a fiddle," I said to her. She basked in my approval. "Did you get anymore?"

"No. I made a concerted effort to stay away from him for the rest of the evening. How did you do with Emily?"

"We danced three times. The first two we made appropriate small talk and she let me hold her closely. The third time, she initiated our closeness, and when she felt my cock poking into her belly, she didn't make an effort to pull away."

"I told you she wants you," Jill said triumphantly. "She's a hard nut to crack, that's all."

"I'm surprised Kyle didn't ask about your corset," I said.

"He did earlier. He put his arm around me when we first saw them, and asked at the first opportunity."

"What did you tell him?"

"That I liked the tight feel around me, like a man holding me to ready me for intercourse."

I laughed. "I almost feel sorry for Kyle having a predator like you after him."

"Like me? I'm only following my master's commands," she said sensually. She pressed her hand over my throbbing and erect cock in my trousers. "Would my master like for me to suck his cock?" she teased.

"When we get home, you'll do more than that."

"I hope so. My master makes me extremely horny," she murmured.

Jill, Emily, and I went to high school together. I was hard working, poor, smart, athletic, popular, and sexually active. Jill was filthy rich, spoiled, envied, and promiscuous. At the end of my junior year, I made Jill exclusively mine and began training her as I wanted her.

Her parents approved of our relationship and treated me like a son. Jill was a year behind me in school. Her father paid for me to go to Yale, withdrew her from our local high school, and sent her to a private school in New Haven. He paid for a large townhouse where Jill and I lived. We married after my freshman year in college. Five years later, when we returned to our hometown, I had B.A. and J.D. degrees, a golden financial situation, and a wife perfect for me.

Emily Wheaton was in Jill's class. They were best friends, which proves opposites do attract. Emily was as attractive as Jill, but while Jill was earthy and voluptuous, Emily was stately and classical. And while Jill was promiscuous until I took her in tow, Emily with the archetypical virgin queen.

When Jill and I returned from New Haven, Emily Wheaton was Mrs. Kyle Rogers. They met in college. Like me, Kyle was a ladies' man and he was damn good at it. He swept her off her feet, got her pregnant, and married her, all within a period of ninety days. After getting his bachelor's degree, Kyle and Emily moved back to our hometown and he joined her father's insurance agency, where he was a highly overpaid and undeserving executive.

From the moment Jill and I met Kyle Rogers neither of us liked him. It was a small town and Jill was Emily's best friend so we saw Emily and Kyle frequently. Our feelings about him only became stronger.

One day, I was naked in my easy chair. Jill, naked except for a collar around her neck and leathers on her wrists, was in my lap. Her mind had been far away for some time.

"I hate Kyle Rogers," she said. I didn't respond. About three minutes passed before she spoke again. "And I love Emily."

"Ah, there's the rub," I thought. Jill and Emily did love each other like sisters, and, like sisters, that love was sometimes jealousy or envy or hate. I wondered sometimes if Jill's love of Emily had sexual overtones even she didn't recognize.

I'd call Jill passively bisexual. She didn't seek out other women, but she enjoyed it when I told her to make love to one. During my senior year at Yale, another woman, Cassie, lived with us and shared our bed. Jill and Cassie had sex often. I'd brought other women into our lives for our mutual pleasure.

When I didn't reply to her comment, Jill said, "Did you hear me?"

"Yes, I did. I hate Kyle, too."

"And you love Emily, or you maybe you just want to fuck her," she said with a smirk.

"Both," I replied.

"I'm sick of Kyle. Of the way he treats her. Of his coming on to me all the time. Of his snotty, oily attitude." She slipped off my lap, went into the kitchen, and soon returned with a soda for both of us. "I want him out of our lives and out of this town," she said emphatically. She leered at me. "And I have a plan."

That's how it began. Jill began to act warmer toward Kyle, gently teasing him when he made a pass at her. Only a month later, at the dance, she recorded their conversation and played it for me.

When we returned to the house after the October formal, I engaged the burglar alarm and accompanied Jill to our bedroom. She had a delightful smirk, a knowing, devilish gleam in her eyes, and a bounce in her walk.

"Come here, sexy," I said.

She squirmed into my arms to be kissed, which I happily did. She turned around to let me unzip her strapless evening gown and start untying her corset. Jill owned many corsets. Most, like this one, were to enhance her figure when we were in public. A few were bondage devices of varying degrees of severity.

The corset had an additional purpose that night-to hide the recording device. The microphone was hidden between her breasts, with a wire running to the cassette between her legs. She controlled it with a remote in her purse, but she had to go to the restroom to change the tape. As I removed the corset, I checked the cassette. A new tape was in it. I tossed the corset aside and Jill scratched furiously where it had pressed into her skin.

"Anything interesting?" I asked, holding it up.

"Not unless you want to hear Charlene Withers talk about how she's fucking her black yardman," Jill replied.

"No, thanks. Charlene fucks anything with a cock," I said.

"Or unless you want to hear Emily talking about Kyle." Jill was quivering with glee.

"You little witch," I exclaimed. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I wanted to surprise you. Can I put it on for you?"

"I'd love it," I said as I handed her the tape. "I'll get us a glass of wine."

Jill was naked on the bed when I returned from the kitchen. After I lay down by her, she put the player on my legs and turned it on. For six or seven minutes, they made small talk, but the stress in Emily's voice was evident. Finally, Emily got around to the cause of her anxiety.

"Jill, have you ever wondered if Paul was cheating on you?"

"Never," responded Jill emphatically.

"Have you ever cheated on him?" Emily asked. The question stuck in her throat.

"I never have and I never will," Jill said firmly.

"Oh," Emily replied.

"Do you think Kyle is cheating on you?" Jill asked.

"Well," Emily said.

Jill pushed the stop button. "We went to a more private spot. When we got there, I took her hands in mine and made her look at me." She pushed the play button and her voice came over the speaker. "Listen, Emily. All men play around."

"You said Paul didn't," Emily countered.

"I said he didn't cheat on me. It's not cheating if he tells me about it."

"He's had other women and you don't mind?" Emily gasped.

"No, I don't. I know he'll never leave me."

"I don't have that feeling about Kyle. I'm almost sure he's having an affair with a woman at the office."

Jill pushed the stop button again. "You should have seen her face, Paul. She looked at me in a most accusing way." She pushed the play button.

"And I know a woman in our group that he's trying to seduce," Emily continued.

"Who?" Jill asked.

"You know who," Emily accused.

"Do you mean me?" Jill asked. Emily didn't reply. "I'm not having an affair with Kyle," Jill said firmly, but sympathetically.

"I want to believe you," Emily whispered. "But a woman knows these things."

"Then you know I am not having an affair with your husband," Jill replied.

"But he wants you," Emily sobbed.

Emily cried and Jill comforted her before Jill turned off the recorder. "That's all except her tears. She did make one more statement just before we parted. She said if Kyle did cheat on her, she'd 'get even with the bastard.'"

"Good work, baby," I said. "Now come here."

Jill was proud of her body. She was blessed with a beautiful face, blonde hair, and blue eyes like her mother. She and I were both health nuts, exercising long and hard to maintain good physiques. The only place she wasn't blessed was in her breasts. Like her mother, a plastic surgeon grew those to a D-cup that wouldn't sag.

She loved sex with me in all its aspects. She particularly enjoyed her submission and the attendant bondage. When she flopped back beside me that night, she spread her arms.

"Does sexy little Jill want to be bound?" I teased.

"I want to please you," she whispered. "I know how you love to tie me up."

As I bound her wrists to the headboard, she squirmed with delight. She comes quickly and often, many times enjoying multiple orgasms, until she's a mass of sweaty, red, and satiated flesh. But she was especially eager that night. The thrill of the chase stimulated her as it did me.

Kyle called at ten the next morning. Jill hit the record function on the phone. "Hello," she said. I didn't say a word until the conversation was over and she disconnected.

"Play it back for me," I ordered.

"Hello," she had said.

"Jill. It's Kyle. Can you talk?"

"Of course, Kyle. How are you this morning?"

"I couldn't sleep thinking about you."

"That's silly, Kyle. I told you what you needed to do to have me. Ask Paul. That's all."

"It isn't all and you know it. I have to deliver Emily to him."

"That shouldn't be a problem for you," she said.

"Why not?"

"Any real stud should have his wife trained to do whatever he tells her to do. I know Paul has me trained like that."

"Emily's not like you," Kyle said angrily.

"Kyle, control yourself," Jill snapped.

"Sorry," he muttered.

"When you were playing golf a few days ago, Paul said you told him a man should control his wife. Isn't sex part of the control?"

"Yes, but. Shit." Jill waited him out. He said, "Does Paul know about us?"

"He knows. I tell him everything, Kyle."

"Oh, Jesus in heaven."

"Relax. He's not upset."

"He's not?"

"Of course not. He's no fool. He knows you've got the hots for me."

"Ask him if he wants Emily. Maybe he just wants to watch you and me have sex. Some guys are like that, you know."

"I do know and he does like to watch when I do it with another woman." Kyle groaned gutturally, like he'd been kicked in the balls. "Anyway, Kyle, if you want me, you're going to have to be man enough to ask him yourself."

"Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit!"

"What's wrong, Kyle?"

"Nothing. Is he there?"

"Yes, he is. Do you want to speak to him?"

"No. Not now. I'll call back."

"I'll tell him to expect your call, Kyle. Goodbye," Jill said coolly. She silently disconnected.

"Well done," I said.

"Thank you, baby," she replied. She was grinning from ear-to-ear. She had done a good job, too. An excellent job. Kyle would call back. In fifteen minutes, he proved me right.

I turned on the recorder and answered this time.

"Paul?" he said.

"Hi, Kyle," I said heartedly. "How are you?"

"Good. Good. Say I'd like to talk to you."

"What about?"

I thought he wasn't going to be able to get it out. Finally, he gasped, "Jill."

"What about Jill?"

"I want her."

"That's what she said. Come over here and we can discuss it face-to-face."

"When?"

"We'll be home all day."

"I told Emily I had to go to the office at two."

"We'll see you a little after two, Kyle," I said.

I like electronic gadgets. We have the latest in surveillance equipment, including the audio recorders on the phone and the wire Jill used at the party. We also have audio and video equipment in the living room, kitchen, bedroom, playroom, and hot tub. I enjoy recording Jill and me fucking. This time I was going to record our conversation with Kyle.

When Kyle arrived about two, he was a step away from a nervous breakdown. Jill was dressed as I told her to be-a wraparound skirt that barely covered her pussy and halter top. That's it. No shoes, stockings, or panties. Her long hair was up on her head, ready to drop when she pulled the pin. I wore a polo shirt, shorts, and was barefoot. I rarely wear underwear and today was no exception.

"Hi, Kyle. Come on in. Would you like a drink?"

"Yes. No. No. I'm supposed to be at the office."

"Kyle," Jill exclaimed as she swooped into the hall. Acting happy and eager, she made a beeline for him, but I stepped between them.

"Not yet. I haven't agreed to anything. Let's go sit in the living room," I said.

Kyle was sweating and hyper as he followed Jill's swaying ass into the living room. Jill showed him where to sit, which was on the couch because the camera was focused on his position. I sat on a chair opposite and Jill curled up at my feet. The camera could see part of us and the sound equipment would clearly record our voices. When I stroked her hair, she closed her eyes and pushed back against my hand. Kyle looked like he couldn't believe it.

"So Kyle," I said. "Let's talk about what you want." He watched us bug-eyed and open-mouthed. "Kyle?"

"I want Jill," he gasped.

"Forever?" I asked.

"Yes."

"You'd divorce Emily for her?"

"Yes. Oh, shit, Paul, I don't know." Jill and I waited patiently. "I want to fuck Jill so badly I can't think of anything else."

I was ecstatic, but I didn't show it. That admission would cost Kyle dearly. "Jill is mine, Kyle. I will never divorce her. I will never, under any circumstances, let her belong to any man but me. Let me repeat what I said. Jill is mine. Forever. Do you understand?"

"Yes, but..."

"Do you have anything to say, Jill?" I asked.

"Kyle, I'd never leave Paul. Not for you. Not for anyone."

Kyle nodded. Jill and I didn't speak. We let Kyle's emotions build like a kettle under too much pressure. Finally, he exploded in a string of gibberish cursing, leaving him depleted and sheepish looking. "I want Jill. What do I have to do?"

"Put yourself in my shoes, Kyle," I said. "You want to fuck my wife. So what? A lot of men want her because she's a sexy woman. Why should I let you?"

"Because I have a wife you want."

"Yes, I do. She's the only woman in this town besides Jill I want." I waited and Kyle's eyes flitted between my face and Jill's breasts. "What are you suggesting? A trade?"

"Yes. A trade. I'll swap you Emily for Jill," Kyle said. He scooted forward to the edge of the couch and his face was eager. "Wife swapping. Emily for Jill."

"I can deliver Jill. Can you deliver Emily?" I asked.

"Yes," he lied.

"Good. We can swap this afternoon. Jill, go call her and ask her to come over."

Jill rose. "No. Wait," Kyle called out. "Don't call her." Jill stopped and stared at him. "She won't do it. She won't. Emily is frigid as ice. Oh, shit. She doesn't even enjoy me. It's driving me nuts." He was deflated, with his shoulders slumped and his head down. I looked at my wife. He disgusted her. I motioned Jill to sit by me and we waited for Kyle to look at us again.

"What do you suggest, Kyle?" I said quietly.

"I don't know. I wish I did because I'd swap Emily in a heartbeat."

"For anyone?" Jill asked.

"For you, Jill," he said passionately.

"Anyone else?" I asked.

"Sure," he said with a grin. "But it's Jill I want now."