“Would you like me too? Really?”
My wife Anna and I had been married 11 years before she first brought up the idea of her having sex with someone else outside of the bedroom. We had a robust fantasy life, dirty whispers to each other when the lights were off about making her a slut, sharing her with other men. But for the first time, she was talking about it out of the bedroom, lights on, full daylight over a leisurely breakfast, coffee in hand.
It didn’t bother me. On the contrary, I felt the tickle of butterflies in my stomach, the same thrill I felt when we were first dating, as she told me she would consider doing it for real if I was into it. Her eyes locked with mine over the steam from her fresh cup of
coffee, sexy and alive, challenging me to match her boldness. She was naked under her slip and I could just make out the outline of her breasts against the purple silk, the hardness of her nipples. I felt my throat suddenly go dry.
“Yes”, I said.
She smiled. “Good. I want to. And I want you to watch.”