June opened the envelope because it had her name on it. That was unusual for an envelope that looked like business post; those were always addressed to David. The other thing that made it stand out was its size, a bulky A4 envelope, more like a mail order magazine than a letter.

She slit it open and dumped the contents on the kitchen table. A CD and a thick pile of printed paper with a covering letter from some legal firm.

She sat down suddenly, shocked, unable to breathe, unable to focus.

It took a minute before she could do anything. A letter from lawyers must mean divorce, but David hadn't said anything. Why did she think that? Because deep down there was this guilty feeling. She hadn’t cheated, she had done what David wanted, well mostly done what he wanted.

Being a hotwife, taking a lover, had been his suggestion. She’d taken it a little further, sure, but they had talked about it, they really had— not as much as David wanted, obviously, and she did feel guilty, but that was part of it wasn't it. David had jealousy to enjoy and she had guilt, that was the crazy rationalisation behind the excitement. Transgression was the buzz wasn't it, and divorce would kill it.

She had worried, of course she had, worried about whether she was doing it right— so she read a lot. It wasn’t easy, confusing really, she couldn't read David’s mind, could she? If all she did was what David said he wanted then it wouldn’t push any boundaries would it. She had to keep David guessing— a little bit anyway— that's what she'd read. She had to train herself to be a little bit mean.

What was it Ray said—'Cuckold's had to be kept in their place,' that's what he'd said.

She tried to pull herself together. This was just another test, that must be it. She had to convince David that this was how cuckold marriages went, he should learn to enjoy it, that's what the stories said— well, not all the stories..., but that's what Ray said. He must have organised this letter to harden things up, make the arrangement more formal— that must be it, David putting on his managerial hat. They'd talk about it when he got home, it could wait till then.

After lunch her curiosity got the better of her; with two coffees and a small gin under her belt, she decided she’d read the damn papers.

She had thought twice about whether the gin was necessary but she needed to relax enough to read whatever these lawyers had sent, needed to get a step ahead of David, be ready with what she was going to say.

Maybe a dose of Ray would help. She cranked up her laptop, and clicked through to Skype before it crossed her mind that Ray would not approve of the boring pyjamas she was still wearing. What a slattern she’d become, loafing around in her nightclothes halfway through the day.

That was David’s fault too, he was busy in the city making pin-stripped money, insisting on giving her the best of everything, allowing her to be lazy. Ray ought to approve of the pyjamas, it was his idea that she should wear them to bed and be as boring as she could be for David— that was another part of learning to be mean— David hadn't seen her naked since her second date with Ray. She stripped naked now, put the laptop on the table and stood in front of it, a full frontal surprise for Ray.

He didn't reply. What a fucking let down thinking about his cock for nothing. Damn.

"I bet if I Skyped David he'd answer." She said it out loud, giggled, looked at her self on the screen— wow, what if she'd Skyped a wrong number. What if...

She dialled David's number and hit connect, waited until she saw David's surprised face, said, "Whoops, sorry wrong number," and cut the connection.

He'd think about it all day, torture himself thinking about who she’d meant to call. God, that was a buzz, imagining David’s torture made her wet. It would haunt him all day and he'd come home full of angst and horniness and then she'd make him talk about these damn papers.

She sat down to read, still naked, still feeling wet and randy.

The first page was a load of vague guff about enclosing the attached papers and CD for her perusal and hopefully her agreement, subject to any changes she wished to make and hoping that she'd find the proposed fee acceptable.

Fee? Was David expecting her to pay...

She sat staring at the page for a while, more coffee or more gin, that was the question... or maybe both? Did that work? An iced coffee maybe and a gin to sip, up and down at the same time to keep her ticking over.

She turned over the page and got a big surprise.

The first page was almost blank. In the centre it said:-

Please check the script
 and listen to the audio version
 on the CD.

Corrections to the script
should be added in black pen.
Comments on the audio in red.

Return the annotated script to the address on the covering letter. Your fee for commenting is two hundred pounds, attached as a bank draft, on the final page is a proposed fee for copyright and broadcast fees if we decide to go ahead with publication. If not, the copyright remains with you.

She stared at the page for a minute before shaking the pages to see if anything fell out. She delved back into the envelope and pulled out the bank draft— sure enough, two hundred pounds.

She took a swig of gin and then remembered that she had to read the papers and drank some coffee. Best to stay on an even keel.

She opened the script.

Sound of door opening and heels on a hard floor.

A: "Hey you made it."

D:"I said I would."

A:"Does he know?"

D:Giggle. "Not this time."

A:"So you're cheating for real huh?"

D:"Not really."

A:"Good for you. This is what you need."

D: "Your cock, you mean."

A: "No, I meant being independent, deciding for yourself, going behind his back. He needs it, he has to feel what it's like. Strip while you're talking to me."

D:"We've got plenty of time."

A: "I still want you naked."

D: "I bought this new underwear specially for you."

A: "So he's never seen it."

D: "No."

A: "Go on then, show it off."

Sound of a zip.

A: "Leave the heels on."

D: "You like?"

A: "Yeah it looks good on you but get it off now and hang it on the door. Bra and pants, keep the garter belt and stockings."

Sound of heels on hard floor.

A: "Hang them on the outside."

D: "But..."

A: "No buts, I want her to see what a whore wears."

Sound of door opening and then closing.

June pushed the papers away from her, recoiling from the words on the page. Holding her head in her hands she reached for the gin.

June sat, staring at the papers in front of her, fingers hovering, about to turn the page, but knowing what she would read.

She took another sip of coffee and eventually reached for the CD.

Someone must have taped her when she was with Ray and thought it was a great joke to send her money for the script. Perhaps it was Ray, some kind of power game. He liked that, didn't he? Bloody transparent using his middle initial and her’s; too clever, who was he trying to fool? She'd have to read the whole thing... Could she remember every detail? Hell no, this was two weeks ago wasn't it, yesterday was different— well not a lot different.

There'd be things she'd wish she hadn't said on the record. That was what it was all about, wasn't it? Ray wanting to manipulate her, turn he careless comments when she was lost in lust into reality— well stuff that. He might have a big cock but he knew the rules. He could say what he liked when she was there but if he tried to upset David there'd be trouble.

Five minutes later she was in the bedroom, CD ready, headphones on, door closed; no way she was going to play whatever this was out loud. The letter said to comment on the script; what sort of a joke was that? Ray playing dirty tricks? Wanting to know which bits she'd like to delete maybe, wanting to show her up for saying things she didn't really mean.

How many times had she said bad things about David? God, that was it wasn't it. Ray was always going on about humiliation, always saying that David needed it, that all cuckolds wanted that. Did they? Really?

Why had Ray used some fake law firm to write the letter? Was it a fake? She ran back downstairs and picked up the letter. It took a minute to Google them and find out that they were genuine. Shit. Did that mean there were a bunch of lawyers listening to the CD, having a laugh, saying lecherous things about her, mocking David? Would Ray have told them who David was, surely not? Oh God, what had she gotten into?

She ran back upstairs and almost threw the CD away. You could shred these things couldn't you— but the lawyers would have another copy. If she cashed that cheque they'd know. They'd send her another copy, maybe even send someone around.

She could go there— say she didn't want to have anything to do with this whole stupid business. No, that wouldn't do. What if it was a joke, what if the CD was blank, Ray winding her up, making her show herself up as a slut. That's what he wanted wasn't it, making it real, taking it out of the bedroom, her worst fear.

With a sigh she dropped back on the bed, closing her eyes, trying to put all the horrors out of her head. She'd listen to it, that what she'd do. Be brave, play the thing and then work out what to do.

She got up to start the player, still naked, wireless headphones on and expecting to lie down. Expecting to relax onto the bed, not collapse.

The first voice she heard sounded like David, exactly like David. David and some woman. A voice she didn't recognise. Her legs went from under her and she ended up on the floor, the bed was a yard away and she never made it that far.

Somehow the CD seemed so different, the words were the same but the voices changed the whole thing. The voice that sounded so like David was so clear, sounding enthusiastic, engaged, enjoying the interaction with this woman.

Could it be David? How could David know? He couldn't have bugged Ray's house... It couldn't be David, but who? Had Ray hired someone to sound like David? Surely he wasn't that subtle. Ray wasn't like that, he was a charge-in, full-of-himself bully, with a great cock, very full of himself of course, but not clever.

What about Ray's wife? The poor timid waif who had to see June's underwear hung on the door knob. Miki, who was made to eat Ray's cum out of June's pussy, forced to meet June at the door dressed in her slave costume, naked, collared and cuffed. Could she have done something like this? If she had then she went up a dozen steps in June's imagination.   

By the second page of the script, June had made it to the bed, sitting not lying, tense not relaxed.

The woman had a husky burr, like from Devon or somewhere down that way, nothing like her own home counties BBC English.

Had she ever heard Miki speak? She was half Japanese wasn't she, but what was the other half? This woman sounded like a seductress, purring words to David as the two of them talked about the woman's wimp of a husband, made disparaging remarks about the man's cock, about his staying power in bed, about how dumb he was to let himself be taken for a ride by this man whose words were Ray's but whose voice sounded so like David.

The voices carried on for half an hour, interrupted by noises of bed springs and moans that left nothing to the imagination.

Then there was a quiet period, the couple's post-orgasmic cuddling in bed; and that was the worst of all. That was when her guard was down, when she said such stupid things, said she didn't really love David, said he'd never given her a ride like she got every time from Ray.

And that David-like voice— mouthing Ray's words with enthusiasm making barely veiled plans to ruin their marriage, that he should be able to come and go as he pleased, take whatever he wanted and give David not a word of thanks.

And then it got worse as they plotted how to deny the husband any sex at all, maybe if he was lucky he could be got off now and then— after all, said the David voice, laughing,

"He needs milking. We don't want him getting prostate cancer, I know he won't need his prostate or his balls, but cancer's such a bum deal, you don't want him wasting away, he needs to be earning money."

When Ray said it she thought he was teasing but there was something about the way it came across in this David voice that made it all sound so much more real.

When the CD stopped playing she lay still, lost in the agony and degradation of all the possibilities.

When David came home at five-fifty she was still lying on the bed sobbing.

David did what he always did— stepped into the downstairs wet room, hung up his very business-like suit and tie, threw the shirt in his the laundry basket, showered briefly, dried himself, put on his jeans and a clean T-shirt, and strolled into the living room to make himself a drink.

It took David less than a minute to work out what was happening.  The envelope with the script was still on the table, no CD in sight, so she must be upstairs. Leaving the living room door open, he glanced upstairs, the bedroom door was closed. He turned on the TV tuning to the six o'clock news and cranked the volume up a notch or two to be sure she'd know he was home.

He sat at the table, turned over a few pages, enough so that she could see he was well into the script and waited. The interesting question was what would she be wearing. The naked stunt on Skype this morning might be a hint of something interesting but that was much earlier, more than likely it was a tease. He smiled briefly, a good tease, maybe sometime he could get her to do it again.

She appeared as the news switched from national to local. He killed the volume reflexly, like he'd done a thousand times.

He looked around as she came in. She was wearing her shimmering almost transparent robe with nothing under it, a treat he hadn't seen in months. Her face was a partly cleaned up mess— puffy eyes and almost removed streaks of mascara on her cheeks. She must have been crying for a while.

"What's the matter?"

"Everything." She collapsed on the sofa.

David kept quiet, watching and waiting. He killed the TV.

"Sorry," she said, sitting up enough to look at him and then crying again.

"Shall I phone for a takeaway?"

"Yes," mumbled, barely audible.

David knew there were leaflets from half a dozen local restaurant in the hallway.

"Your wish is my command," he said.

"Please David, don't say that..."

"Oh, um, how about if I make a decision for both of us."

"Mmmm...yes... do that."

David came back after a few minutes and by then June had managed to sit up, wipe her eyes and show a little more interest in the world.

"What are we having?"

"Surprise."

"That's been my w-h-o-l-e day," she said, finally making eye contact with him and then saw the papers on the table in front of him.

"Oh, fuck," she said. "Did you read that?"

"Started to."

"Maybe it's best if you don't."

"You mean I might find the part where it says the husband ought to be milked now and then so he doesn’t get cancer?"

“Oh God.”

“You think this is about me?”

“Did you read the letter?”

"I glanced at it."

David sat waiting for her to look at him, met her gaze and smiled. “Why don't you tell me about it?”

“Is it your voice?”

He raised an eyebrow.

“On the CD that came with the letter,” she said, "is it your voice?"

“Sorry?”

“It sounds like you.”

“You haven’t actually played me this CD. Was there a CD with the letter? Where is it?”

“On the player in the bedroom.”

“Are you going to tell me about it.”

“Are you teasing me?”

“I wish, I mean I would if I could find some way to cheer you up, there’s not many days I come home to find my wife sobbing and telling me everything is wrong.”

“It’s not everything, it’s me. Don’t read that stuff. I’ll tell you about it, you need to hear it from me.”

David nodded. “Go take a shower love, the food’ll be here soon. I’ll get things ready. We can talk then."

When June reappeared, still wearing the flowing almost transparent robe, the table was laid, a bottle of wine was open and several bowls of Chinese dishes were adding an enticing aroma to the dining room.

"That smells good."

"And so do you."

That raised a weak smile.

"June love, I'm sorry, I didn't realise you'd be so upset."

June was standing, picking up her wine glass. "Hang on," she said. "You mean you did know about this."

"Have you met Ray's wife?"

"Um yes, sort of."

"Sort of?"

"She'd be in the house, but..."

"But?"

"He doesn't let her speak."

"Go on— no, sit down, relax, let's take our time."

"Why did you ask about her?"

"She got in touch. She called me."

"Really?"

"So she's never spoken to you."

"It's embarrassing."

"Yes... I guess... same for both of us in a way."

June looked up, "How do you mean?"

"She phoned me ten days ago. I didn't know what to do. You were at his place so I couldn't talk to you. I tried to call you but your phone was off."

"Sorry."

"Well, yeah, I thought we agreed that I would only phone you if there was an important problem or if I was really suffering."

"Sorry love. We did say that but Ray made me turn it off. I turned it back on as soon as I could."

"Did you see the missed call?"

"Yes, but Ray said I shouldn't call you. He said it was important for cuckolds to wait, that it would make you want me more."

"Has Ray ever been cuckolded?"

"Well no..."

"So what the fuck does he know about it?"

"He's been a bull before."

"And I suppose he sits down with cuckold husbands and very sensitively finds out what they want from the relationship? I obviously missed out on the interview."

"Please David, don't be bitter. It's my fault, I should have stood up to him..." June swallowed twice and almost in a whisper asked, "Did you talk to Ray's wife?"

"Yes."

"What did she say?"

"She wanted to know if I was okay."

"She asked you that?"

"That's where it started, really she wanted to know if I was going to divorce you."

"What?"

"I said I wasn't, don't look so shocked. We both know I started this."

"Yes but being asked like that, I mean why did she ask?"

"Because she's divorcing Ray."

"Oh God." For a few seconds June held her head in her hands. "Because of me?" she croaked.

"No, because of him. I'm sorry love, you're one of a long line. She doesn't care about who he fucks, she's tired of being mistreated. She feels as though he should be grateful that she lets him play around, but, um, I think I can remember— she said he was an ungrateful swine, and she'd had enough. Does that make sense to you?"

David looked up and for the first time in a while met June's gaze, steady, not hostile but very definite. "Does it? Is that what he's like? Is that what you want?"

June tried to hold the eye contact but gave up in a few seconds, looked at the table, shook her head and ran her fingers through her hair.

"Maybe you didn't see enough to know," David said. "She was worried about me— funny that isn't it— she was worried but you weren't."

June started to speak.

"No, wait, let me finish," he said. "I told her I trusted you, that we were okay, that I wanted you to have a good time, have what you couldn't get from me. What do you think she said?"

"I, um, I don't know."

"She sent me a recording, so I messaged her private account. Ray reads her normal emails so she's done the obvious thing and has another account, she only looks at it when she's out— she goes to an internet cafe I think."

"Oh God."

"You know the rest I guess. I typed out the script and the two of us recorded our version, same words, different voices."

"So it was you."

"I figured that was best. We used your middle initial, was that okay?"

David held his hand up to stop June saying anything.

"I learned a lot. Saying those things that Ray says to you, I learned a lot."

"I don't think he means it."

"Miki thinks he does. How did it sound to you? Did she get your tone right?"

"What do you want David?"

"I want for you to be happy and tell me about it. I want us to decide what makes us happy and get as close as we can to both being happy..."

"And?"

"Well there is one more thing, but I want to hear from you. I know I'm playing hard ball, but I got to the point where I had to do something. Maybe I've left it too late already. Maybe I should have said something before. I thought we'd agreed that we'd discuss everything but that seems to have slipped away. What did that script sound like to you?"

"What do you think?"

"You tell me, love. If you can't tell me, if it's too embarrassing or too painful then I think we're done for. I'm sorry, I never should have started this. I wanted you to be happy."

June sat looking at the table. Without looking up enough to make eye contact she reached across, took a big spoon and gradually filled her plate from the serving dishes.

"Do you want me to eat in the kitchen?" David said, "do you need space?"

"No. I... I'm lost, I don't know what to say."

"Did listening to the tape upset you?"

"Yes," she whispered. "Yes it did... a lot, all afternoon."

She looked up, finally making eye contact again. "Should I stop seeing him?"

"I don't want you to come back to me and be disappointed. If you need that kind of sex then we have to find some way for you to get it."

"But not with him?"

"I'm not looking for vengeance, Miki is leaving him whatever happens, so I doubt if he'll be the same guy and he may take it out on you."

"I never meant to hurt you."

"I know."

"I hated being that person."

For the first time, David smiled and that got through. "What would it take for you to not be that person?"

"I don't know, love, but I think this is a good start. I wish there was a movie, so that I could see myself saying those things. When I've just been fucked I don't know what I'm saying."

"Wouldn't seeing and hearing it upset you more?"

For the first time since David had come home she grinned and a little of the old mischief came back. "Oh sure, it would make me feel like shit, but if we watched it together I'd have to make up to you so much that you'd want me to watch it every week."

"I'd better ask Miki if she can make us a copy."

"Oh, shit... you mean?"

"Every session apparently, well every one of yours and some of his previous girlfriends."

"Oh God," she said. "I've really dropped myself in it now haven't I."

"Well you did say you wanted to see." He paused for a second, temporarily lost in thought. "Actually love I think there may be an answer there. I think we should set up our spare room as a movie studio and then you can fuck anyone you like and we can catch up afterwards. We could make it a really romantic boudoir."

David leant across the table and helped himself to food.

"What do you think? You could even have Ray over and he could say what he liked about me and you could make up to me afterwards. What do you think?"

"But no playing away?"

"No..." David chuckled, "I almost said it was up to you, but maybe this time I should just say no, at least for now."

"Yes," she said. "At least for now, let's get ourselves back together."

"One other thing... um... what would you think about me fucking Miki?"

Their eyes met. "On film?"

"Of course."

"Shit."

"You mean you'd feel like shit?"

"No...Well yes... I probably would." June shook her head. "Yeah, I get it. It's what I've done to you."

"And to her."

"And to her, yeah so I should say yes. It's not how the cuckold— hotwife thing is supposed to work though is it."

"Did we give it a label?"

"No," she said, shaking her head again, "but we did say we weren't going to get into swinging."

"True. We said... actually, I said... I was happy for you to have fun, as long as you were straight with me, and you said I could call a stop any time if it got too much for me."

"So now you want to re-write the rules?"

"Well..."

"Yeah, okay, you don't have to say it, I already did. Do you fancy her?"

"Her voice, yeah, definitely."

"You mean you haven't actually met?"

"No, we did it all by email and phone."

"But on the CD you're both talking."

"The wonders of technology."

There was a long pause when as far as David could tell a million things must be going through June's mind.

"Okay," she said eventually. "Set up the room and then call her. I deserve it and I'll probably learn a lot even if I hate it." She shrugged her shoulders and grinned. "Tell her we'll go the whole hog. She can choose, she can do to me what Ray did to her. Fair's fair. You'll need to do some carpentry and it may shock the hell out of you."

"Carpentry?"

"He had her naked in a pillory against the wall so she could see how a real whore fucked."

"Christ. He has this thing standing in the middle of the room?"

"No, in a cupboard, sometimes he closed the doors on her."

"And you liked this monster?"

June shook her head. "There was more. Tell her she can do to me what he did to her. You never know, I may like it," she said, somehow sounding resigned and decisive at once. June looked at David across the dinner table, starting to look mischievous, the bounce coming back.

"You never know, you may like it too. This Chinese is delicious but don't eat too much. I'm starting to feel randy so you're going to have your work cut out tonight."