We talked the next morning, about our future, and about sex. It seemed more comfortable somehow after our night of fantasy.

It had been three years since Michael moved on. Ever since the time Michael left us it was understood that Linda might take advantage of an opportunity to seduce a man she couldn't resist - that rare man who "gets" her and she considers "worthy" of her body. There had been only two of them, nearly a year apart - a very, very young artist she described as "wiser than his years", with a body she still raved about, and a slightly older couple at a party one night, but then they had seduced both of us.

Linda remained worldly and a bit aloof around my friends, which to my surprise, made her more attractive to a few of them. They'd comment on her looks while doing their best to make it sound like a compliment, but I could always tell when they they secretly wished they could fuck her. Linda routinely kept the men's advances in our social circle at bay; her looks and refined sexuality intimidated all but the bravest of them. Most often their courage came from a bottle after spending a few quiet moments with her. I'd watch at a distance while she toyed with their egos for a while before she shamed them into an embarrassing retreat. It was hard to blame them at times though; Linda could be ravishing in the outfits she chose to bring them just a little too close to the flame.

Linda's stories became ones she'd unveil little by little while we fucked in the dark, quiet refuge of our bedroom. Each time she'd recount them softly, sometimes breathlessly, next to my ear on my pillow, she'd add some small detail that elevated her tale to a new level of surprising perversity. I'd wonder if each new version she spun was secretly rationed, held back for a time when the rest had lost the ability to surprise and excite me. It didn't matter to me whether her embellishments were true or not at the time; her guilleless confessions always followed after her stories took us to the edge of a precarious cliff and pushed us over, sweaty and writhing into the beckoning abyss.

"Are you ever jealous, even once in a while, when I tell you how tempted I am to have sex with another man?" she had asked, out of the blue. "I know you like to hear my stories, but do you ever worry? That I might fall for one of them? Or that there might be another Jordan out there who would gladly try to seduce me with the same addiction? "

"Have I given you any reason to think so? That I worry?" I asked.

"No, never. But I can't help wondering sometimes. You see how men look at me, how some even approach me the very first time and assume I'll fuck them. I could stop if you wanted me to. Would you miss my little stories? We could always find other kinky ways to fuck."

She was dressing as we talked, and I had hoped when we paraded back through the hotel lobby to check out that she'd wear the same outfit she wore the night before. Instead, she had packed a fitted, copper-colored fall blouse and a pair of skin tight blue jeans. The blouse hugged her slim waist, emphasizing her bust and shoulders.

"Could you keep the bra and panties in your bag?" I begged. "I'd like showing you off a little before we leave, even if it's just a hint of your bare breasts under the blouse. I'm sure there'll be at least a few hungry guys at breakfast who would appreciate it - I mean other than myself."

She looked over her shoulder and grinned at me while she unfastened and shrugged off her bra. "Well, I guess that answers my question then. And I can read your mind - you'd have me go to breakfast naked if I wouldn't be arrested, wouldn't you, you pervert?"

"I shamelessly admit that watching all the men in this hotel drool at the sight of your perfect, naked body would make my day."

"Seriously, David - you really don't ever get jealous, at all?"

I hadn't counted on how the blouse would thrust her breasts upward, straining the few buttons fastened over them. The open buttons at the top displayed a tantalizing, open V of perfect, ivory flesh against the darker, silky material. The faint rise of her nipples beneath the fabric made my mouth water.

"It's not that I don't think about some guy you might meet who knows exactly how to seduce you, or that you could entertain a fleeting infatuation with a man whose looks you can't resist. But look at you - you're going to be faced with those temptations every day whether I'm okay with it or not. I see how men stare at you, how they want you. I'd rather you be honest about it, fuck him if you can't resist him, then forget him and come back to what we have. You know how much I love beautiful things. In the past it was so tempting to own you, to try to possess you like some rare piece of art. We both know couples like that - and most of them aren't happy. Hell, sometimes I wonder if some of them ever fuck at all. It's not that I'm never concerned. Losing you would destroy me. But after everything we've been through, trusting you is the only possible way I can believe we'll have a brighter future together. The important thing is, I'm proud of you, who you are, and that you can enjoy sex with another man on that rare occcasion, tell me about him, and not bring it crashing down on our heads later..."  ...Like I did, I thought to myself.

"I know it's still a favorite fantasy of yours, and I promise I'll always tell you about them, David, if and when they exist. I'll never be a wife who fucks around behind your back. Besides, I love being your dirty little slut, making your cock sooo hard when I tell you about all my dirty little fantasies," she told me, grinning.

I was disappointed that no one seemed to notice her breasts at breakfast. I asked her to get me another helping of eggs and bacon from the buffet so I could watch. At least I noticed, and sometimes that was more than enough to feed my fantasies. It did take a while for my erection to deflate before we could go to the front desk to check out. I never could watch her walk across a room full of men with her breasts dancing under her blouse without getting hard for her.

There was a chill in the air when we stepped outside. They had put up a wide, green awning over the main entrance of the Excelsior. The old red-and-white tower of a sign on the roof was gone and one of neon just outside the hotel entrance advertised the newly remodeled bar as "The Hot Spot - 50 Ways to Meet Your Lover." As we left, we turned to look at it again and laughed. The neighborhood was changing, and not for the better. Or maybe it was just our time to move on.

"I'm sure I won't miss the place," I joked as we began our walk back to our apartment. "Will you?"

"Not even a little, David," she assured me, without a hint of sentimentality. "It's infested with the past. Our future can't come soon enough."

On our way, we passed the former boutique where I had bought Linda's red party dress. The lifeless window display was now crowded with decaying mannequins wearing G-strings and see-through bras above rows of multicolored dildos, butt plugs, and vibrators. Even that didn't seem to dampen her spirits.

We crossed the street to a little park near our building and found the bench we used almost every day when we had first moved in. It had been a way to get to know the neighborhood and the people with history there. Little had changed; couples stopped to let us pet their dogs, and a kid and his dad were flying a kite in the wide, open space between rows of cedars at either end.

"We should go in," I said. "We leave tomorrow. Lots to do."

Linda took my hand and smiled at me. "Miles to go...," she recited, knowing I'd understand.

I couldn't resist taking her in my arms as we stood. It surprised her at first, but she fell into me and hugged me as though she might never let go.

"Was last night really everything you needed it to be?" I asked. "I need to know."

It was my turn to be surprised when she looked up into my eyes as though she was peering inside me, seeing me for the very first time.

"David, you were wonderful. No - you were off the scale."

END