I sleep with my gardener as well.

I hadn't really thought about it much until we moved locally about a mile to our present area. The new garden needed a lot of work and effort put into it to change it from wilderness to respectable. Me - I just like pottering - my wife likes 'gardening' as she puts it.

The family joke started when, early that spring, I was doing some of the heavy work Jan can't manage. It was early evening and I was on my own out the front of our plot. It's a reasonable size and I was out of earshot of the house. While I was leaning on my rake having a breather an old dear who I'd never seen before stopped to talk. I should add that when I work on the garden I tend to be archetypal scruffy, more like a bum. It wasn't until afterward that I realised just how much so on this occasion.

The blue-rinse lady had stopped to chat. "I'm glad to see that someone is doing something about the mess at last." She said. "It's been making the neighbourhood look down at heel. "It was then I realised that she must have taken me for the hired help, rather than the owner. In typical fashion she ploughed on without waiting for comment - "it's so difficult to find a 'good' gardener these days!"

I grunted something to the effect that it was difficult, especially with the cost of pay that was required.

She looked at me closely: "What do you charge?" she asked.

"Five dollars an hour" I responded, off the top of my head - I didn't know the going rate!

"That's very reasonable," she said, "Do you have a card so that I might call you if I need some help?"

Now at this point my sense of humour began to get the better of me, I should just have let the matter drop. "No," I said. " But then I doubt if you would be willing to make up the same perks of the job anyway."

"Oh I'm sure we could come to some arrangements," she said, "I mean I could supply plenty of refreshments and a midday meal as well."

"Ah yes," I said, " But I gets to sleep with the mistress of the house as well." Ok I know. I shouldn't have said it but she was beginning to bug me by then. She took a moment for this gem to be absorbed, me leaning on the rake; she standing with her mouth hung open. Then she decided she had heard right - spluttered something into thin air, coloured up and strode off muttering to herself.

As I turned back to the job in hand I thought smugly to myself "that'll keep the local brigade talking for a bit."

My other half came round the corner at the trot. "Damn!" She said, "I wanted to catch Mrs. Digby, I was told she was the person to speak to over the plans for the school extension - she's the Head of Governors you know."

At this point my comment didn't seem quite so good, but what the hell - so I related the story. Now it has to be said that my lady has a sense of humour that is only slightly less wicked than mine. Fortunately she saw the funny side and went on "Well you could have told her that you sleep with the taxi-driver, the cook, the bottle washer and the hairdresser as well."

"I'll store that up and use it next time" I said - "It'll give the old bat something to talk about anyway - if she dares."

Jan muttered something about having to face the old girl - "I'll never be able to look her in the eye." Laughing still, I said, "You'll think of something."

In bed that night we were still chuckling at the thought of Mrs. Digby's reaction. Our lovemaking was more intense than it had been for a little bit. In fact I was jumped on! Jan called me 'the gardener' and told me that I ought to be able to 'make that thing grow and do a little rooting around'. Her kisses started from my forehead, worked their way down my chest and headed south. As Jan was on top this meant that I was able to inspect a ripe pair of peaches on the way past and very nice they tasted too. As she moved on down and engulfed my penis with her delightful lips, she pressed home her advantage and I was treated to wild honey pie - my favourite. A quick explosion from her-self as I managed to eat her centre was followed by her spinning round and impaling herself on me. We both came together, me just a half stroke ahead, tasting each other's juices on our lips as the ecstasy took our breath away. As we were drifting off to sleep Jan said, "That was good, perhaps next time I'll be the hairdresser."

I was amused, it was almost the first time Jan had admitted to having any fantasy's - she didn't need them she said, or perhaps she just felt she didn't want to upset me. Me - sometimes I did fantasize about the hairdresser - Jill was a drink on a stick, but I didn't really want Jan to know that I thought that way. I would have loved to bed Jill, but well, relaxed marriage or not I had never had the chance. I didn't think Jill would reciprocate my lust anyway. In fact Jan does my hair; it was one of those things she had wanted to master earlier in life and never had the chance. Jill ran an evening course at the local school, there were some spaces left so Jan had joined and been properly taught.

That was some months ago.

The fun really started last night though. Jan had a phone call from a friend who had moved away, about twenty miles. They hadn't seen each other for a couple of months and Sheila asked Jan over that evening. I was planning a report for the office so I didn't mind; it would let me work at home without being disturbed.

After about an hour there was a ring at the front door. Wondering whom it might be I went to answer and found Jill, the hairdresser stood there with arms full, as usual, of hairdressing kit. Rather than have her stand on the door I invited her in. As she stepped past the mat she caught her toe and I suddenly had my arms full of hairdressing accoutrements and one delectable hairdresser. It caught me off balance and I fell flat on my back on the floor with Jill on top, bits and pieces crashing everywhere. As we lay there, me underneath, winded and trying to catch my breath she climbed off, looked back, leaned forward and kissed me full on the mouth.