"Are you sure you're okay with this, Mickey," said Rona. She was watching my eyes very carefully. "I mean if..."

"I think so," I said. "But, I'm still concerned about it affecting our marriage."

"Baby, that is the one thing that you do not have to worry about at all. If anything it will add sugar and spice to it, not the other way 'round," she said.

For the record, I'm Mickey Iverson. I work for Stanley Construction. I'm a site foreman. The work is hard some days, but the pay is very good. My wife is a tech at a local clinic. She's the lab person that messes with your blood. Good job she has too. Between the two of us we do right well economically.

Rona and I have been married for nineteen years. I'm forty-five to her forty-one. No kids, she had an accident in high school and pretty much wiped out her female plumbing. But, we have a mess of nieces and nephews, and we fawn on them.

Our love life up till the telling of this story had been great. Well, that's my opinion; others might beg to disagree based on the evidence now available.

My wife had laid it on me the week before last that she was concerned about the deterioration of our sex life. She was right of course things had gotten stale. And, bearing in mind how hot to trot we both had been early on in the marriage; well, one had to wonder. At any rate, after some time thinking it all over she approached me.

We'd considered a number of alternatives to fix our flagging libidos, but had come up nil. But then, apparently out of the blue, she'd brought back up a fantasy of mine: watching her get it from another man—surreptitiously.

"I don't think so, babe, too risky. Something like that could mess up our marriage bad," I said.

"Mickey, I'm nervous too. Neither of us has ever been in a situation like this, and maybe it won't work out; but we should try it at least once; dontcha think," she said.

I didn't like it, but we decided to sleep on it and talk again.

It was true that watching another man do her had long been a fantasy of mine, kind of a common one I knew; but I had never been keen on actually living it out. For the very good reason that the very thought of it, let alone the reality of it, was frightening.

At any rate, we'd discussed it, chewed on it, digested it, and finally—at her very pushy urging—decided to give it a go. There had been just two stipulations. One, if either of us felt uncomfortable with the situation that it, the fantasy, would suffer a quick and unmourned demise. And two, that it, again the fantasy, would not be allowed in any way shape or form to impact our own love making except in positive ways.

Howard Tyler would be here in twenty minutes. Tonight was the night.

"How are you feeling, honey," she said.

"Okay. Nervous as hell, but okay," I said. She nodded, gave me a peck on the cheek, and pushed me into the closet, locking it from the outside. The lock was to keep Howie baby out not me in. I could easily get out by breaking the mirror.

My cloister was our walk-in closet. We had installed a mirror in the door that was also one-way see through glass. I would be privy to everything that went on in the room but invisible to those on the other side.

From inside my hideout I watched her finish dressing. Black mini dress, fluffed out dark hair, ruby lips and nails, eye work that was simply dazzling, and her smell—enslaving. Oh, and no underwear. Howard was sure to appreciate her efforts.

I heard the doorbell ring and watched as Rona headed out to answer it. I settled in. I knew that she would probably entertain him a little out front before she brought him in to the bedroom for the main event. I was wrong, she entertained him for an hour; I was not happy at the delay.

Finally they came in and Rona came to the mirror on the door and pretended to adjust herself. She mouthed me a kiss and smiled.

As she turned back to him, he took her in his arms and kissed her softly, almost elegantly. She returned his kiss.

He pulled back from her. "This time will be better, baby," he said. "We'll have more time." I started at that. What did he mean, "this time"? She planted a kiss on him smothering any further words on his part.

His hands began to caress her neglecting no part of her. I watched as he slid the zipper at her back floorward; he peeled the little mini from her shoulders and smiled at her nakedness. Only her high heels remained; she left them on.

"He felt her buttocks and slipped his fingers into her crack obviously feeling the softness and heat of her anus. At this particular intrusion, she looked a trifle concerned. But, his kisses that smothered any demur on her part.

Dropping to her knees, she unbuckled his pants and pulled them down. More or less surprisingly, he was wearing no underwear either. His cock sprung free, hard, and eight inches long; she rescued it and began stroking it slowly. She looked up at him, smiled, and took it into her mouth. I was witness to her swallowing his cum. This bothered me, as she had never allowed me that privilege; we'd talk. Oh yeah, we were going to have plenty to talk about already and they had hardly started!

Over the next two hours he took her two times and got an equal number of blow jobs for his trouble. The grand finale almost caused me to burst through the mirror of my closet prison. She took him in her butt. She had strenuously forbidden that to me both while we were going together and since our marriage a period of twenty-one years. I was seething, but I held myself under control—and it was more than a miracle that I was able to.

To her credit she did send a worried look in my direction as he took her that final time. She had to know that I was not happy.

Clearly this was something long planned, and that with me totally out of the loop. At that moment, I was weighing my choices: accept what she'd done, divorce her, kill them both. All three options were on the table.

A half hour after her butt screwing, she was ushering him out of the house and into the night. She returned two minutes later letting me out.

"I know what you're going to say, dear," she said. "We didn't plan it; it just happened." I paced back and forth trying to get my bearings. I was almost apoplectic. She took me in her arms and I was so horny that I decided to fight my battles at a later time. I needed release.

Sloppy seconds or not, I was going to fuck her. She was still naked and I was too seconds later.

I took her missionary style, she seemed a little listless, but I laid that off to all of the calorie burning earlier that evening. I repeatedly and ruthlessly rammed my very turgid six inches into her very soppy cunt without concern for her pleasure; I figured she'd gotten hers already. I came in a gusher, well, you can imagine.

I asked her to suck me off. She smiled and took me in her mouth, but as I was about to cum, she stopped and told me to take her doggey style. I stared at her.

"You swallowed him!" I said. I was still pissed about her taking him in her butt, and about his remark about this time being better than—something; and of course her swallowing his cum and never having swallowed mine.

"Okay, if it means that much to you," she said.

"What!" I said. "What did you say? He gets—and I get—" I rolled off the bed and picked up my clothes and started to dress. "Don't let me bother you, dear wife."

"Honey, what's the matter? I'm not denying you anything, really. Stop that dressing and come here. Come on, please," she said.

"Tell me, Rona, what did he mean when he said that, "This time would be a lot better," I said. She paled. I knew then, right then, for sure. This was not the first time. She'd been doing him, but for how long.

"Huh? I don't know what you're talking about," she lied. "Just come here and let me make it right by you, okay?"

I continued to dress, but more slowly. I kept my eyes on her. I knew she was feeling the heat, and my talking would just make it easier for her to dodge the bullet. Still all things considered, her next words stopped me in my tracks.

"We've been doing it for the last couple of months," she said. "Last week, he and I talked. I told him I couldn't continue to cheat on you anymore. He suggested—well—what we did here tonight."

"He knew I was in there then didn't he?" I said. She looked down. Fucking-A, talk about being humiliated.

"No alimony and you keep your hands off of my retirement. You can have everything else including the house," I said. Her head snapped up.

"What! You can't mean! I mean this was your fantasy. You wanted this as badly as I ever did," she said.

"Do you remember our deal, Rona? No neglecting our own sex life, do you remember that, Rona?" I said.

"I'm not neglecting you. I'm not," she said.

"You already have. You sucked him off and you wouldn't me," I said.

"I will suck you off. I wasn't turning you down. I just wanted you to take me doggey style first," she said.

"Tell me, Rona, were you going to let me have your butt tonight? Or were you going to be too exhausted?"

"Oh, and I almost forgot. Where in any of your plans was anything said about you fucking him for two months behind my back!" I said.

"That was a mistake, and I am hoping by owning up to it that you will forgive me." She said. "And, yes, if you want my butt of course I want you to take me there. I'm not denying you anything. I am a little tired, okay, and that is the truth; but I will do anything to make you happy—anything!"

"Who is Howard exactly anyway?" I said. I was fishing.

"His name is Howard Tyler. He works where I do at the lab. He came to work there about four months ago. He hit on me. I turned him down. He kept after me. I finally gave in. It was a mistake. One I will more than make up to you if you will permit me," she said.

"Is he married too?" I said. Her eyes shot open at that.

"Mickey, you're not going to tell his wife are you? It would wreck their marriage. He was just out for a little fun—like us," she said. "They have little children, twin girls. Their lives, their family would be ruined."

I stared at her. I had no words. I was pissed at him, but that was nothing compared to the anger I was feeling toward my loving wife. And yet, did I really want a divorce? I wasn't sure. I needed a clear head and at the moment I didn't have one. I needed to be thinking not reacting. I sat down on the little stool she used to do her makeup.

"Mickey, I have made some mistakes here tonight. I mean quite apart from cheating on you these past two months. I know it. They were thoughtless of me. I was caught up in the moment and a little tired and not—well—not thinking. Please give me a chance, just a small chance to make it up to you. You won't be sorry," she said.

"What's he gonna say if you cut him off," I said. She looked confused. "You do intend to cut him off now, don't you?"

"Oh, yes of course. I'm not thinking. I am tired, Mick, I really am. I know you know that that is the truth. Of course it's over. No more of this fantasy stuff either; it's too dangerous. I promise. And, yes, again, Howard is history. Just please don't ruin their family's lives."

"Is there anything else that I need to know. If there is, the time to unload it on me is now; there will be no more chances after tonight," I said.

"No. There's nothing else, except for the details, which I hope you won't demand I tell you about. That's the whole enchilada," she said.

"Rona, I'm giving you and Howie baby a one use only get out of jail free card. But, if you ever double me up. If I find out that there is more to this than what you tell me tonight—well. Just don't let it happen, Rona.

She looked confused for a moment, but then ran to me and almost toppled me throwing her arms around me and kissing me like she had seldom ever done.

She pushed back from me. Looked deep into my eyes. Dropped to her knees, and pulled my pants down. She swallowed and demanded that I take her butt. But, I couldn't right at that moment. Even though she tried her damndest to get my little soldier to come back to life, it wasn't happenin'.

"In the morning," she said. I nodded.

Rona had apparently not only made old Howie baby a historic artifact; she quit her job at the lab to avoid even the appearance of impropriety. She was able to get another anyway at almost the same pay if with a lot less seniority.

Things went along fine for the next several months and yes I did get her butt, and that regularly. I loved licking her there in preparation to entering her. She seemed to get off on it too. Times were good. Too good to last as it turned out. It was the day before our twentieth anniversary. I wanted to surprise her. We already had reservations for the next night, but a pre-anniversary luncheon seemed in order.

I was singing, literally, as I pulled into the clinic's parking lot where she now worked as a lab tech. Heading inside, I went to the nurses' station and asked for her. It was the first time I'd been inside of the place.

"Oh, miss Iverson is out to lunch with Mr. Tyler," said the pretty young thing manning the station. The shock I felt immediately began to give way to feelings of betrayal. The aide didn't seem to notice.

"Where do they normally eat?" I said.

"At Aunt Mary's Kitchen, just down the block," she said, nodding in the indicated direction.

I headed out walking. I wanted to catch them with their mouths full. I shouldn't have. I didn't need the added baggage.

I saw them through the window. They were sitting side by side not across from each other. He had his arm around her shoulder. He was actually feeding her a bit of food, a French fry I think.

I just kept standing there staring. It was at least a full minute, maybe two before she noticed me.

"No!" I saw her say. He looked up as she said it. His face went gray. I nodded, slowly. I mouthed the words, I loved you, to her, and walked off. She caught up with me just as I got to the corner.

"Mickey, you've got to listen to me. You've got to," she all but screamed. She was desperate.

"Yes, Rona, but not today. I have a lot on my mind. I think you can understand that. Let me be for now, okay," I said, and I crossed the street. She didn't follow.

I got home half an hour later, I'd asked the site boss for the rest of the day off. He okay's it. I moved some my stuff into the guest room. She got home twenty minutes after I did. I was sitting on the bed looking at the stuff I'd hauled into the room when she came in. Clearly she'd barely had time to say goodbye to her lover.

"Mickey what are you doing in here? Mickey, please." I didn't say anything. She started pacing back and forth in front of me wringing her hands. "Oh my God, Mickey, what you must think! I don't know where to begin," she said. I rose, still not saying anything, and headed downstairs.

We were in the kitchen where I mixed myself a martini; well, as the 'ole country boy said, "It was five o'clock somewhere."

I just looked at her and took a sip. "At least we won't have to waste money on a phony anniversary dinner," I said.

"Phony! What are you talking about! It's going to be our anniversary," she said.

"No. No. We almost made it, but not quite. It's too late today to do anything, and it's Friday, but I will be filing on Monday. The same rules that I set up last year apply. You okay with that?" I said, "or do I have a fight on my hands."

"One request, Mick, just one, okay? I won't fight it, and it'll be just as you say, but I have one request," she said.

"No sex," I said. "It ain't happenin'."

"No. No. Not that. But, you aren't going to be filing till Monday, right?" she said.

"Yeah, so?" I said.

"You stay here with me this weekend. The whole weekend and give me a chance to undo what I've done. If I can't do it, if I can't convince you to not do what you're thinking; I will sign the papers as soon as your lawyers make them available. Deal?" she said.

She was nothing if not resourceful, I thought. I knew there was no chance she could convince me that she hadn't doublecrossed me, doubled me up, but it would be interesting to see her try. Real interesting. I had no idea.

"Okay, your shot begins now," I said. And, I want a meeting with the asshole who has helped to ruin two marriages. That one set her back.

"Him? Howard? But—okay," she said. But, no violence—okay?"

"I won't hurt him, not physically anyway," I said. She knew her position was weak. She nodded.

"Okay, I'll work it out somehow," she said, "for tomorrow."

I sat on the edge of our bed. I was still dressed and planned on sleeping in the guestroom. However, it happened that that bed in the guestroom was covered with a mountain of laundry. Apart from throwing it all off onto the floor and claiming the bed as my territory, there was no way I could sleep there. So, here I was thinking of sleeping beside her—in my clothes.

"Aren't you going to get ready for bed, honey," she said.

"No sex, Rona, I told you," I said.

"No, no. I won't push you," she said. "But, you know you can't sleep good like that. Just get undressed. Leave your boxers on if you want. Just get comfy. Maybe we can talk a little bit if you want. Or not."

I muttered something. I couldn't even tell you what. But something. She smiled her sweetest and began disrobing herself as she watched me lose my clothes. Well, I do have a hard time sleeping except in my too-loose boxers.

"You wanna talk?" she said.

"Not especially, Rona. I'm just treading water till Monday. You got something to say; then, say it," I said.

"Okay," she said. "I will. When you saw us today, well, it was nothing. He was just being silly. We didn't do anything. He just gave me a French fry."

"You mean fed you a French fry," I said. "Looked romantic as hell to me, and you looked to be enjoying the hell out of it."

"Romantic! Hardly," she said. "He just, okay, fed me a French fry. But it was nothing."

"How do you figure on selling me that bundle of bullshit, Rona. He's my worst enemy and you were having lunch with him. Have you been fucking him? Before you answer, know this: I will know if you lie," I said. "And how long has he been working there?"

"Mickey, he's not your enemy. He doesn't know you. He is never going to know you. Before, when he—we—did what we did, your name never came up. He just wanted the sex that's all.

"To answer your question, He's been there the last few months. And, no I haven't fucked him," she said.

I'd said that I'd know if she were lying, but the fact was I wasn't sure. If she was lying; then, she was getting better at it.