The following night, Linda was stretched out on the sofa, tapping away at her phone. In my head, I imagined her and Michael making out in one of the vacant offices at work, his hand under the red dress, fingers deep in her pussy as they kissed. Then it was Linda on her knees sucking him, greedily taking his semen in her mouth and down her throat as she had with her past lover, Jordan.

I sat across the room and stared. She wore another of my presents, a silky pajama set with roomy shorts and a brief vest that fastened at the front with a single loop and button. It was forest green, her favorite color, and she had loved it the minute she opened it. As she stretched and changed positions, the button came undone, exposing her nipples and much of the ivory domes of firm flesh beneath them. I couldn't help imagining Michael's hands on them. She gathered the sides together and buttoned it again, but not before she caught me looking.

"You're ogling me again. Do you want to have sex?"

When I didn't answer right away, she looked over at me and said, "You're thinking about me and Michael again, aren't you? While you're watching me?"

I confessed I was.

"You know, I found the dress I wore at the Excelsior hanging in the bathroom last night. Did you put it there?" she asked.

Fuck, I had forgotten to return it to the closet before she found it.

"I, ah, guess I'm busted," I confessed. "I had never even touched it - only you and Michael had. You were at the party with him, and I needed to know what it might have been like for you when he put his hands on you that night. When I put my hand up under it, I thought about what it must have been like to be him when he touched you and fingered you. I knew it was a ridiculous thing to do, but I was obsessed with memories of you wearing it, of how you unbuttoned it the second he ordered you to do it. Then, as I stared at your dress, there was this overwhelming need to know - if he was doing any of it, or all of it to you again at the party."

"So, you were that worried?" she asked.

"No, I can't explain why, but honestly, I was excited. But it does worry me too at times. Part of your attraction to him reminds me of what I did to you, and that my obsession with the fantasy might be some kind of ongoing, cosmic payback. I worry that I'm the one who's responsible for bringing the two of you together again, and thoughts of his hands on you, and your hands lovingly fondling his cock, is, well, exciting and devastating, both at the same time. I try, but I just can't get those images out of my head. It's become an obsession, much of the time a really frustrating one."

Linda stared at me thoughtfully for a while before she answered. "I had no idea you were this concerned, David. I hope you don't think my attraction to Michael is some kind of revenge. It began long before I met you. I'm being as open and honest about it as I can possibly be. Yes, your affair with Joanna brought the three of us together that night, you and Michael face to face, but that's in the past. I've forgiven you. I want us to be happy together. If you don't want me to see him again, or even mention my past with him, I'll do that for you. Just tell me."

It was the last thing I expected to hear, especially with such genuine conviction. But I knew the fantasy would always haunt me after that night, even if it went unspoken. Repressing it would likely make it an obsession that would grow into more frustration and regret, and I'd much rather know Linda's sexual needs and fantasies than constantly wonder what they might be, or worse, worry that she'd explore them with Michael behind my back. Knowing each other's fantasies in uncensored detail and accepting them as part of who we are would be the only way I could be sure that we'd finally escape the past and avoid reliving it.

"I can't ask you to do that," I assured her. "I don't even want you to. Now that we've come this far, we can't start hiding things from each other. My fantasies of you and Michael are too consuming to abandon, and I have to trust you if I expect you to ever trust me again. While I was in the fantasy, running my hands over the dress you wore with him was as though I was there while you and he rehearsed. Except, instead of only rehearsing, I pictured his hands on you, and yours on him, and then you cumming, collapsing into his arms as he fingered you, and maybe even as he fucked you."

"Well, sorry, but it wasn't at all like that, David. It could have been. We were so close to giving in to it, to go beyond where Michael's script led us. But I guess I was more hurt than angry, and I desperately hoped there was still a way to fix us. Michael deserves a lot of credit for that too - I know he wanted me. It must have been painful for him - he was so hard the entire time we practiced our little plan. All I could think of much of the time was reaching over and taking his erection in my hand, even if it was just for a few seconds. I suppose it's why I couldn't resist doing it later that night in his hotel room."

"But you did take it in your hand, last night, didn't you?" I prompted her.

I saw her confusion change immediately to a warm smile. "Okay - what do you want to know about last night? But take off your pants first. I want to see you get hard. And come over here - I want to play with you while we talk."

I took off everything and lay beside her on the sofa. She giggled and ran her fingers over my chest, then down, lower. "I've always loved watching you get hard," she said quietly, as though someone might be close by and hear her. "I've seen men's erections before, but I rarely get to see them grow like this. It's rather fascinating, seeing something so helpless-looking grow into something so long and stiff it can reach all the way up inside me. Reeealy, raaather, faaascinating..." I watched her pretend to inspect it carefully, pulling and bending it to look from every angle. She grinned at me. "Did you know your cock is fascinating?"

Her grin became a satisfied smile as she began to milk it slowly from base to tip, watching it grow. "Now, what was it you wanted to know...?"

"Sooo, I guess you kissed him?" I asked.

"He kissed me, David. Just once - he was so eager to do more..."

"And he put his hand up under your pretty, red dress?"

"Ummm, no, not at first."

She went quiet for a minute, teasing me with the vague answer.

I unbuttoned her top and ran my palm lightly over her breast, circling my thumb over her nipple. "So, then he must have done something like this..."

She turned on her side and put her arm across my chest, moving closer, inches from my face. She delivered the words so slowly, drawing them out, waiting for my response between each phrase.

"He... pulled my top down... and... licked... my neck, and then... my breasts and nipples. I just... let him... play with me. I wanted evvvery bit of him. His attention... his mouth... his tongue... and yes..." she told me, staring into my eyes with passion, "his cock."

Running all of it through my head, digesting it, and making it come to life took time, and we were quiet for a minute before either of us spoke again. She was raking her long fingernails up and down over my erection, spending extra time on the glans where the sensation was almost unbearable.
 
"So, you did want him to fuck you," I said, finally.

"Of course, David. Before he was done, I wanted it all. But I promised you. So we didn't."

"And, when he had his hands under your dress?"

"It was easy for him. When we were finally alone, he wanted me to take my panties off, so I did. He pulled up my dress and fingered me for so, fucking, long before he ate me. I came in his mouth, and he drank like he was parched and I was an oasis in the desert. It was... just, so, wonderful."

"I can tell - you're smiling like it happened five minutes ago," I told her. But it was more than that. She was glowing. Her entire body was alive with her story. I could read every detail on her skin, in her eyes, and the way the words escaped from between her lips with such delicious heat and passion.

"And when it was your turn?" I asked.

"I'm afraid I didn't spend as much time on him. I wanted to. I played with his cock, used my hands on him, well, you know, like I do with you. I know it's been a long time, but it all came flooding back - the time I spent with him in school, how hard he'd get for me when I'd undress in front of him, and the way he'd always fuck me when I'd come begging for it.

"Eventually, I took him in my mouth. He even tasted the same, and I swallowed every last drop he had to give me. He didn't last long. Afterwards, he told me how sex with me was so memorable back in college because he could tell how much it meant to me, that I was always so hungry for it. Then he added that I really was the best freshman piece of ass he had ever had. I laughed, but he stopped me, and he said he meant every word."

"I'm sure he was right, on all counts," I told her. "You know, I'm not sure why, but hearing you tell me about it the way you do... well, I probably should be, but I'm not as worried or jealous as I expected - maybe a bit envious though, that it's all so new and exciting for you..."

"Really David, you have nothing to worry about. Honestly. I want you for a husband, not him. I couldn't ask to be married to a more compassionate and understanding man."

"But thoughts of him fucking you excite you more and more each time we talk about him, don't they?" I suggested. "I can see it on your face, in your eyes. It makes you happy, doesn't it?"

"Just sex with him, David. I can see I can't hide it from you. I like him, and I'd really love to fuck him, but that's where it ends."

"So, I suppose I could look the other way now and then. You'd have to find times and places where you could be discreet; no one can know about this. And, I want you to tell me afterwards, every time. It would have to be just sex - nothing like an affair. I guess I'm a bit embarrassed to admit it, but the thought of it excites me - my irresistibly fuckable wife having secret sex with an old college lover..."

"It's been a fantasy of yours even before that night, hasn't it?" she asked. "An irresistible man meeting me, seducing me, fucking me into total oblivion, and then having me come home to you so we can fuck after we play with one of my little stories about it? I don't completely understand it, but something we never expected happened to us that night with Stephan at the Excelsior. But are you sure this is something you really want? Bringing your fantasy to life? We can have fun with all kinds of fantasies together, in the dark, in our bed. But bringing them to life can't be undone."

"How can I be sure? But I'd like to know - I have to know. I just never thought any of it would really happen until now. Did you?"

"Not really, David. But honestly, I'd always fantasized, maybe even dared to hope, that Michael might be more than just a client again someday. Fucking both of you without putting our marriage in danger was always as unlikely as winning the lottery twice in a row. Now, I think what you're suggesting may be even better."