Jim and I were relaxing on the back patio, sipping our cocktails to the soothing sound of the waterfall as it trickled into our backyard pool. It was mid-June, but the weather had not yet turned brutally hot. In a matter of weeks, it will be too hot to enjoy our patio like this, but tonight the weather was perfect.

I took a sip of my chardonnay and said, “I was looking over my Lushstories profile page today during lunch…”

“At work?” Jim interrupted with a slightly disapproving tone. Jim was fearful that the computer police at the law firm where I work would somehow trace my occasional internet browsing and catch me on Lushstories. I thought he was paranoid, he thought I was careless.

“Yes, at work. I had the door closed to my office during lunch and I was reading some comments on my latest story.”

Jim simply shook his head and decided not to argue the point further, “Okay, any good comments?”

“Yes, several were very complimentary. Reading them made me feel really good, but that’s not what I wanted to tell you.”

“Okay, sorry for interrupting. Continue,” Jim said with a slightly patronizing tone.

“I just published my ninety-ninth story.”

Jim registered a look of surprise. “You’re telling me that you’ve had one hundred stories published on that site of yours? That’s amazing.”

“Well, not yet. The next story gets me to the one hundred mark. I need to come up with a really good idea for my one hundredth. I want it to be special.”

“Cindy, why do you put so much effort into your writing? What do you get out of it?”

“I don’t know, a lot of things. I enjoy reliving some of the experiences that you and I have shared. For instance, it aroused me to write about the time when we were in college and we went to Florida on spring break, and you talked me into entering that topless dance contest. I loved reliving that trip as I reconstructed that story. You know, the first time you ever shared me was on that trip,” I recalled.

“Ah, I remember that well. That was an interesting experience. If I remember correctly, we got you off a bunch of times,” Jim said with obvious pride.

“Yes, I was a very naughty girl that first night. I surprised myself, it was the first time I had ever cum more than once. I finally lost count.”

“I got so hard watching that older guy make you cum. What was his name, Don?”

“Dave. His name was Dave and he was a really sweet guy. I really liked him. Jim, I was so scared you’d break up with me after I let Dave and you take turns fucking me. I thought you’d be mad, or jealous that I came so hard with him.”

“Oh baby, I wasn’t mad, I was proud of you. God, you were so fucking sexy, and after that night, I knew we were meant for each other. I knew that I wanted to marry you,” Jim announced.

“Well I know that now, but at the time, I was scared,” I replied as I took his hand into mine. “We are uniquely suited for each other, aren’t we?” I added.

“That we are. It’s been a fun and interesting ride, hasn’t it? It’s a good thing we found each other.”

I nodded agreement and answered, “Yes, it is.”

Jim returned the conversation to my writing. “So I get that you enjoyed capturing some of our adventures on paper, but there has to be more to it than that, doesn’t there?”

“Well, yes. It’s complicated. I’m not sure I can explain it properly,” I responded honestly. “Part of it is that reading people’s reactions to my stories really makes me feel good about myself. Jim, did you know that some of my stories have over one hundred thousand views? A lot of the readers masturbate while reading my stories. That’s thousands and thousands of orgasms I created. My words, my stories, have made people that I don’t even know cum. I find that thought very arousing, and fulfilling. I sometimes wonder if some of the folks that you and I work with, or see socially have cum reading my stories and just don’t know I am the author. I like to think perhaps they might have. Imagine if they knew!”

I was starting to get aroused as I imagined these strangers, men and women alike, touching themselves, and climaxing as they read my most intimate thoughts and words, some of them fantasies, but many real experiences that Jim and I had enjoyed together.

“Not only do some of my stories have a lot of views, many are among the top rated stories of all time on the site in several different genres. And Jim, several of those top rated stories are true stories about me, and about us. I get very wet thinking about men, and particularly about women, masturbating while reading about something we actually did, and living our experiences vicariously.”

“I see,” Jim responded, but I was not sure he really did understand what I was saying, I mean, how could he?

“I don’t think you really do, and perhaps you can’t. I am truly giving people a little piece of myself every time I write a story, and if that story arouses them, and gives them pleasure, well that makes me feel better about myself,” I confessed. “I have shared some of my most private thoughts and experiences with strangers in a way I could never share with my closest and most trusted friends.”

Jim turned and looked into my eyes, “Do you get aroused when you write?”

I felt myself blush as I admitted, “Yes, very. Sometimes I even have to take a break and go into the bedroom to take the edge off.”

“Okay, that’s fucking sexy. Does that usually happen?” Jim asked with genuine curiosity.

Rarely did I write my stories with Jim present. I was almost always alone. Jim was well aware of my stories. He has read all of them at least once, but he’s almost never around when I am actually writing. I guess writing is simply too personal. It is simply something I do when I am alone with no distractions.

“This is embarrassing, but yes, I almost always get aroused, but it is rare that I have to masturbate in the middle of writing a story, but it has happened,” I confessed.

Jim got a huge grin on his face. “Tell me which stories got you so turned on that you had to masturbate?”

“Jim! I can’t do that…it’s too…I don’t know…personal. Besides, I don’t remember every time I had to stop and get myself off.”

“Come on, Cindy. You must remember a time you did that.”

I felt myself blush as I recalled a story I wrote several years ago that aroused me so that I had to stop and masturbate multiple times before I was able to complete some of the chapters. Sitting there on the patio with my husband, I felt my vagina begin to leak as I recalled this naughty memory.

“Okay, when I was writing ‘A Stepmother’s Sin’, I got so wound up, especially while I was writing chapters two, four, and five, that I had to stop and take a break,” I used the term ‘take a break’ as a euphemism for masturbating.

“Jim, I’ll tell you something else.”

“What’s that?”

“I actually had my blue-dolphin vibrator inside me when I finished Chapter Four of ‘A Step Mother’s Sin - It spins further out of control’. I made myself cum several times while I was typing it,” I admitted. “That’s probably the reason the first draft had so many typos.”

“Fuck, Cindy. That is so hot. You were sitting at your desk typing away with your dildo buzzing inside you? Where was I?”

“I think you were at work.”

“What were you wearing?” Jim asked. “How did you hold it in place while you typed?” he asked with a tone of excitement.

There was a huge bulge in the front of Jim’s pants now.

“I was just wearing my t-shirt and panties. My panties held the vibrator in place. I could rock forward in my chair and press the vibrator deeper into me as I typed.”

I was about to describe in vivid detail how I rocked myself back and forth, pressing the vibrating dildo deeper into my vagina as I typed, but I paused. Jim got that look in his eye, the one that told me he was up to something. I was pretty sure that the image of me typing my erotic story with a large dildo buzzing inside me had so aroused my husband that I was going to get fucked now, and I was right. He did not need a more detailed description.

“Let’s get in the pool,” Jim suggested as he stood up and took my hand. The huge tent in the front of his shorts left no doubt that he was sporting a major hard-on.

“Should I get my suit on?”

“Hell no. I want you in the pool naked,” Jim directed.

“I’m going to get fucked in the pool, aren’t I?”

“I believe you are, little girl. I believe you are,” Jim said as he pulled me to a standing position.

Our backyard is fairly isolated. We have a six-foot wooden fence and heavy shrubbery along the perimeter. Unless someone actually walked up the driveway and into the backyard, we would not be disturbed.

Within a minute, we were naked, our clothes thrown carelessly into a pile on one of the patio chairs, and Jim was leading me to the steps of our pool, his cock rigidly erect standing at full attention in front of him. God, my husband is a gorgeous specimen.

The water temperature was a comfortable seventy-seven degrees, cool enough to bring my nipples to full attention, but not so cool as to shrink my husband’s impressive boner.

Jim led me out where the water depth was about five feet. At six foot, two inches in height, Jim could stand comfortably, but I was forced to cling to my husband to keep my nose and mouth above the water, a very convenient situation for Jim’s purposes.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him. I felt the very head of his cock throbbing between us, pressing against my clitoris. Our tongues danced back and forth between our open mouths.

I broke the kiss long enough to say, “I love you so much. You know that, don’t you? I’d do anything for you.”

“I love you too, baby. I always will,” he promised, and I knew he meant it.

Now it was my turn to play twenty questions. “Have you ever jacked off while reading my stories?” I inquired.

“Hell yes, of course I have, hundreds of times. Cindy, often times, when I’m traveling on business, when I am alone in my hotel room, I will spank my monkey while reading your stories. It allows me to sleep better.”

I could feel my husband’s cock throbbing impatiently against my vulva as we discussed our masturbation habits. Strangely, it was not a conversation we had had previously.

“Which are your favorites?” I asked. I realize I was begging for praise here, but I honestly wanted to know which of my stories aroused my husband the most.

“Well, I love the MILF stories, all of them. I love reading about that afternoon you spent with Sawyer, when you took his virginity. God, that was sexy. Do you ever hear from him anymore?”

Sawyer was a very special young man to whom I introduced the wonders of sex when he was a shy seventeen-year-old one beautiful afternoon nearly four years ago.

I smiled broadly. “Ah yes, Sawyer, that was a very special day. It’s been a couple of years since he’s called me. I guess he lost interest in this old broad once he took off to college and discovered college-age pussy,” I lamented aloud.

“Honey, you know that there are dozens of girls on that campus that are benefitting from the things Sawyer learned from you that afternoon. I imagine he’s doing some young ladies some good at school,” Jim assured me.

“I sure hope you’re right. I’d like to think that all the women he encounters will benefit from that afternoon. He was so cute and shy when Glenn dropped him off for his lesson.”

Glenn was a Sawyer’s dad, and a very close and intimate friend of Jim’s and mine. It was Glenn who convinced me to tutor his painfully shy son in the ways of the world.

Jim kissed me deeply. I sucked my husband’s tongue into my mouth as he teased my erect nipple. I pressed my vulva into Jim’s erection.

“Cindy, I loved hearing about you and your student that day,” Jim gushed.

“Yes, I had a wonderful time introducing Sawyer to the female body, and the female orgasm. He was a marvelous student,” I admitted as I reminisced that memorable day.

“God, Cindy, I love you so much. I love everything about you. I love how your naughty little mind works,” Jim panted as he grabbed my ass and pulled me forward, pressing his rigid cock hard against my engorged clitoris.

Using Jim’s shoulders, I hiked myself up and wrapped my legs around my husband’s torso. I felt the head of Jim’s erection pulsing against my buttocks.

Jim’s hands were supporting my legs, holding me in place. I was bracing myself against his strong shoulders with my arms around his neck. Aided by the buoyancy from the waters of the pool, Jim was able to hold me up and move me with ease. We kissed deeply and passionately, exploring each other’s mouths with our tongues.

He lowered me down slightly, and I felt the head of his erect penis bumping against the back of my thighs and buttocks, searching anxiously for my opening. I moved myself over slightly and I now felt his penis was pulsing against the outer folds of my vagina, searching for a home.

Because the pool water had washed away much of my natural lubrication, his initial entry was not as easy as one would hope. I had to reach down and use his cock to open the lips of my labia. I felt the glans moving past the inner folds of my vulva, and I stopped.

With the head just inside my opening, I pushed down on Jim’s shoulders to stop my descent and held myself in place. Looking deep into my husband’s eyes, I clenched my vagina, hugging the sensitive head of his cock.

“Remember the time you made me wear that butterfly vibrator under my panties to that dance club?” I asked reminding him of that night nearly twenty years ago when Jim took me dancing with a vibrator buzzing against my sensitive clitoris.

Jim definitely had a penchant for placing me in very public and potentially embarrassing situations. That night, nearly twenty years ago might be his magnum opus in this regard.

Th e butterfly vibrator had a harness that resembled a g-string that was designed to hold the wings of the butterfly in place, but the harness could not be adequately tightened to hold the vibrator firmly against my clitoris. So my ingenious husband found a solution, latex panties. The latex panties ensured the device stayed tightly nestled between the lips of my labia, and firmly against my clit. It was a highly effective design modification!

The vibrator itself was connected to a controller via a four-foot wire. The controller housed the batteries and had five intensity settings. Then Jim fished the wire to the controller up through the waistband of my skirt and placed the controller in my pocket where he could access it easily.

That night, I was escorted to a local bar and dance club with the device humming away against my erect clitoris at level three, the mid-range intensity setting.

“Oh fuck, yeah, I remember that night. I remember it well. You had this glazed look all night long,” Jim recalled as he arched his hips, attempting to penetrate me further.

I lifted myself up further, bracing myself on Jim’s broad shoulders keeping him from penetrating me more fully. I wanted to tease him a bit longer by only allowing the very head of his throbbing erection inside me. I knew from experience that sooner or later Jim would become so aroused that he would just take me.

I loved being taken by him.

“Shit, Jim, you had that damn vibrator buzzing against my clit while we were sitting at the table, keeping me right on the edge all night,” I recalled.

I lowered myself slightly, and clenched my pussy, before lifting myself up again, keeping only the throbbing head inside me. Jim continued to arch his hips, trying desperately to impale me. I continued to tease him.

“And then Bob showed up. I couldn’t believe you invited him to sit down and join us,” I hissed in my husband’s ear as I recalled being simultaneously embarrassed and aroused sitting there in front of Jim’s friend.

“Cindy, you were so cute. You were so nervous that you couldn’t even talk right.”

“Well, damn, Jim, you two were chatting away while that vibrator was buzzing right on your wife’s sensitive little nubbins,” I said as I clenched my vagina again. “I kept praying that I wouldn’t embarrass myself and cum right there at the table,” I recalled.

“Well, you didn’t cum at the table, did you?”

This particular evening was early in our marriage. Jim had never shared me with any of his friends before that night, only a few strangers. I was confused, nervous, scared, and very aroused, as I sat there on the very verge of a public orgasm, trying not to cum.

“No, but then you gave Bob the controller to the vibrator and let him take me on the dance floor with it. Oh my god, when he turned the damn thing up to level five, my knees actually started to buckle. Baby, I couldn’t help it, I fell into his arms trying to steady myself on the dance floor. It was so intense. I couldn’t take it. I tried to be good, but I couldn’t. I just couldn’t stop grinding into him, humping against his cock. I was humping, shamelessly, right there on the dance floor with people all around.”

I felt Jim’s erection swell and pulse noticeably as he remembered the events of my first very public orgasm.

“Baby, it was a wild scene to watch. I promise you,” Jim recalled as he walked us over to the side of the pool into the shallow water. The water level was below his nipples now. He grasped the side of the pool to balance himself.

“Oh god, Jim, I tried not to cum, but I couldn’t help it. I went off right there on the dance floor, remember? I kissed your buddy, sucked his tongue into my mouth as I came, right there with all those people around…I was such a little slut that night…cumming while all those people watched…remember?”

Those last words did it, pushing Jim over the edge. He couldn’t hold back any longer. With my legs around him, his cock barely inside my opening, and my arms around his neck, he leaned me backwards so that my neck was resting on the edge of the pool.

My arms were stretched out, my fingers locked together behind his neck, holding me in place. As he leaned me backwards, my body formed a perfect angle with his torso. He was holding me back so that I was almost floating on my back, the head of his penis had now slid inside me several inches.

He moved his hands from under my legs and grabbed my hips. Then he pulled me, suddenly and violently, towards him, fully impaling me on his erection. The suddenness of his large penis piercing my vagina was surprisingly painful, and extremely stimulating. Despite my arousal, I was not completely ready to accommodate Jim’s full length.

The sudden shock of pain and pleasure as he impaled me evoked a loud screech from deep in my core, but the shot of pain subsided quickly and rapidly was followed by waves of pleasure as my vagina was forced open to accommodate my husband’s erection.

This massive penetration initiated my orgasm. My hands were now clasped, fingers interlocked behind Jim’s neck as he grabbed my hips, pulling me into him violently to meet the rapid thrust of his hips as he plunged in and out of me. His thrusts caused water to splash violently in all directions as we both began to cum.

We were beyond reason at this point, we were fucking like animals in the wild. Our violent movements were making a froth out of the splashing water.

The rigidity of Jim’s penis, and the ‘angle of attack’ forced the head of his cock to strike the front wall of my vagina, my g-spot, with such force that it had me responding uncontrollably to the rapid and violent pounding my stretched little pussy was being subjected to, I simply could not stop cumming.

After several seconds of vigorous fucking, Jim pulled me down for one final thrust, and held me in place as he stood there quivering, his cock pulsating inside me as he ejaculated.

“Oh, that’s it baby, cum for me. That’s my boy,” I moaned as I clenched my vagina, milking my husband’s cock as he filled my pussy with rope upon rope of his precious semen.

I pulled myself up, and found Jim’s mouth. We hugged each other, kissing deeply for a minute or two as he finished ejaculating inside me, before finally releasing me and allowing me to float free.

I watched with keen interest as cloudy white traces of his semen seeped out of my dilated vagina and floated in the water. The long strings of sperm seemed to perform a slow gentle dance as the water slowly washed them away.

I thought to myself, ‘you probably ought to shock the pool with some chlorine tomorrow, but right now this gentle dance of Jim’s sperm looks kind of pretty’. I almost said something to Jim about it, but I decided he would think that swimming in his own sperm was simply gross, so I said nothing, but I still thought it was sexy.

It was a wonderfully emotionally and physically fulfilling evening. I felt loved and adored, and perfectly satisfied.

Later that night, while lying in bed, Jim broached the subject again.

“Do you ever think about stopping writing? I mean sooner or later you will run out of ideas, won’t you?”

I truly liked the fact that my husband was genuinely interested in my writing, something that was so core to my being.

“Yes, there were times I got discouraged and thought about quitting. I’ve gone long periods when I did not write.”

“What made you quit writing? Did you just run out of ideas?”

“You’ll think it’s silly. Heck, even I know it’s silly,” I started to confide.

“Tell me.”

I took a deep breath and said, “If someone gives my story a low score, especially if I think it is some of my better work, I get my feelings hurt and lose my motivation for writing. On the other hand, when I get emails from readers telling me how wet I made them, or how hard I made them, and that they climaxed while reading my stories…well, I can’t wait to get back and write some more.”

“Interesting. I did not realize that the comments meant so much to you.”

I sighed, and confessed, “I know it is silly of me, but honestly, they do.”

Jim took me in his arms and hugged me, “Seriously, thanks for sharing that with me. We’ve never really talked about your writing before like this.”

I felt incredibly close to my husband at this moment.

“But that still leaves me with the problem of ‘what do I write my one-hundredth story about?’ I really do want this one to be special,” I said. I really wanted to share the creation of my one-hundredth story with him.

Jim got a look that I recognized. He gets a certain twinkle in his eye when he comes up with an idea that I would find both arousing and embarrassing, exciting and dangerous, wickedly naughty and emotionally fulfilling, all at the same time. Jim was truly a master at this.

“What? I know you. I know that look. What are you thinking about?” I prodded.

“Okay, you are right, I do have an idea. Only this time, I’m not going to tell you to do it, but I will suggest it. If you choose not to do this, fine, but I think this could be fun for both of us,” Jim said in a manner that was meant to pique my curiosity and tempt me. It was working.

“Okay, what is your idea for a story?” I asked cautiously.

“Well, you know how some of your stories are based on things you and I actually did?”

“Yeah, the ones that have the words ‘Exposing Cindy’ in the title are essentially true,” I acknowledged.

“Well, all the rest are mostly fiction, right?”

“Yes. Well, they may have parts that are based on my real experiences, but yes, they are mostly a product of my imagination,” I agreed.

“And it’s a wonderful imagination indeed.”

“Thank you. So what’s your suggestion on which I could base my story?”

“Why don’t you select a fictional story you wrote and live it out in reality?” Jim said smugly. He was obviously proud of this suggestion.

One of my many flaws is my tendency to generate a list of arguments why one of Jim’s suggestions won’t work before I even give it serious consideration. On the other hand, one of Jim’s true strengths is his ability to demonstrate that my objections are ill-founded.

“Jim, I couldn’t do that. Hell, a lot of my fictional stories are taboo, between stepmother and stepson, or between stepbrother and stepsister,” I protested.

“You’re right, you can’t use those. But you’ve written a lot of other stories. Some of them were smoking hot. What about those?”

“Jim, I don’t think I can really act out any of my stories,” I argued.

“What about the series you have been writing lately, the one where Connie seduces her boss? ‘A vulnerable housewife’?”

“If I was working for someone with whom I was even remotely attracted and if I had a boss who had any sign of a libido, that might work,” I countered.

“Okay, the series you wrote, Irene’s story?”

“Yeah, what about it?”

“Remember the chapter where the main character, Irene, exposes herself to her co-worker and seduces him?”

“Yeah, I remember. She seduced Alfredo and had an affair with him,” I said nodding my head.

“Well, here is your assignment, should you choose to accept it. I want you to select one very lucky, very attractive guy in your office and expose yourself to him. It should be innocent at first, so if he reacts badly you simply pretend you don’t know what he’s even talking about. But if he shows interest, you show him more and more, as long as he is interested. And if the situation presents itself, you actually fuck him.”

Damn he knew me so fucking well! I lay there in bed, next to my husband, picturing the scenario my husband just painted in my mind’s eye, and my vagina was already starting to lubricate.

“Jim, I can’t do that,” I protested, but even as I said the words, I was doing a quick inventory of the various men in the various departments who might be good candidates.

“Okay, do me a favor. Just pretend you were going to do something like this. Who would you choose? You don’t have to actually do anything, but I want you to come back to me with your top candidate, and tell me why,” Jim instructed.

“I guess I can do that,” I replied meekly.

Okay, I knew at that moment that if I identified my target, Jim would convince me to go after him. Hell, I knew that I’m absolutely powerless to deny my husband anything. I always have been, even going back to when we were dating in college.

The next night, over dinner, Jim asked, “So how’s the selection process going?”

I knew precisely to what he was referring.

“I’ve been giving it a lot of thought and I have a top three list worked out.”

“Three, huh? Interesting,” Jim smiled broadly, “Okay tell me about your top three.”

“Well. there is Matt. You met him at the Christmas party. He’s a partner, very intelligent, charming, but he’s a little full of himself. He’s in his fifties, but is still in pretty great shape. However, it would really stroke his already overinflated ego if he sensed I was coming on to him, which I would be, and he does send off a lot of flirtatious signals when he is around me. I don’t think he’d turn me down…well, if he did, he’d turn me face down,” I said with a chuckle.

“Okay, sounds like a possibility. Who’s behind door number two?” Jim asked.

“Brian is a lawyer who is vying for partner. I am not sure he’ll ever make it. He’s cute and very sweet. He’s trying to balance working eighty hours a week to make partner and being home for his young wife and new baby.”

“I’m surprised you’d consider someone with a young wife and new baby. What am I missing here?” Jim asked, somewhat confused.

“Brian has confided in me that he and his wife are struggling. Apparently, Tina, his wife, has shown absolutely no interest in sex since the baby arrived, nearly two years ago. Brian says his sex life has deteriorated to being just the A, B, C’s, anniversaries, birthdays and Christmas. He’s definitely vulnerable and in need of getting laid.”

“Okay, tell me about door number three?”

“Well, this one is a little bit outside the box.”

“Interesting, tell me about him.”

“Toben is a Nigerian graduate student who is working in our office as a summer intern. He has his undergraduate degree in engineering from the University of Lagos, but he also has a finance degree from Columbia, and now he’s a law student at Penn. The kid is wickedly smart. He is also very polite, and kind of shy around women, but I think he has a crush on me. He hangs around my office a lot, just chatting me up. I think he might still be a virgin, but I’m not sure about that.”

“Anything else?” Jim asked.

“Well yeah, he’s very handsome, and he’s a huge man. He’s at least six foot, six inches tall and he is powerfully built.” I confessed.

“And?”

“Okay, okay, I’ll admit it. You can see his cock hanging down his pant leg under his pants. I think this young man is packing some meat.”

“How old is he?”

“I think he’s twenty-two or twenty-three, maybe younger. I just don’t know. I think he said he entered the University of Lagos when he was only sixteen.”

“How is his English?”

“Perfect, and he has the sexiest Nigerian accent. He’s very proper. And he goes back to school in about six weeks. I won’t have to face the awkwardness of seeing him every day after summer is over.”

“It sounds like you’ve made your choice,” Jim concluded.

“Well, Jim, that’s the thing,” I stammered.

“Go on,” Jim instructed.

“I’d like permission to play with all three, and see where it goes. I may want to call an audible on the field, so to speak.”

“So you think you’re Aaron Rogers, field general, huh? You want my permission to expose yourself to any or all of these three guys, and if the situation presents itself, to take it as far as you want? Is that correct?”

“Yeah, that pretty much sums it up.”

Jim laughed loudly, “Cindy, you are something else. It’s a good thing that I love watching you play the field. I wish I could be a fly on the wall. Okay, you got it, but you need to keep me apprised of what you are up to every step of the way.”

“Of course, I will. You and I are taking this journey together. In fact, I should probably give you co-author recognition, when I actually write about my adventures,” I offered.

“Cindy, this is all you. I am merely an unpaid, low level, behind the scenes technical advisor.”

God, I love this man, with all my heart, I really do.

Friday morning:

I sipped my coffee while sitting silently in the kitchen as I considered my options. I knew that the office would be basically empty today. All of the partners, and most of the lawyers and the paralegals, would be tied up in annual strategy and planning meetings today. These meetings were held offsite at the Omni hotel, several miles from our office. These meetings presented a unique opportunity to give Toben an intimate glimpse of my charms, if I so chose. How would he react? I was not sure. I guess we’d find out soon enough.

(Note: A special thank you to Lisa and Don whose proofreading, editing and other suggestions have greatly improved the quality of this story.)

Coming soon: Chapter Two – Celebrating the Century Mark – Show Time