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"

"I trust you on that. I also know we run the risk, even high probability, that the man cannot agree to what we both want, and you will have separate and private pleasures for yourself. I give you that. As you said before, neither of us has a crystal ball. If he's good for a threesome, fine. If not, that's ok too."

"My God...."

"What?"

"I am thinking of all the men out there. Good looking, still vigorous and sexy men. Men in my usual environment, and men I've yet to meet. And you are giving me permission to pounce on any one I want." She sucked in a deep breath to contain that fantastic potential. "I feel I'm back in high school again. Discovering boys all over again. But knowing all I now know, have done."

"Your happiness is my happiness. But..."

Her look at me was a snap. Her intelligence sharp as a razor. "Ah yes. The always lurking BUT."

"I've thought this through. This gift I offer you has a certain restriction."

"Does it now..." Raised chin, arched brow.

"One man a year."

She looked genuinely puzzled.

"Once a year you may have an affair with any man you choose. Any time of that year. Choose him, romance him, fuck him. I hope he is threesome material, but if not, that doesn't matter. That gives you greater range of choice. In any event, once your thrilling affair, and I don't doubt it will be thrilling, results in him fucking you, it ends. It's all over. You will never be with him again. Unless of course he is right to join us in a three way."

Even the sharpest and most refined of female intelligence has that fragile vulnerability of doing a banana peel slip and falling splat onto a clich__ in a woman's magazine.

"So that's the but, is it? You make the rules for the obedient wife to obey."

Her cheeks were pinched with red blooms of anger. Her eyes narrowed to slits. I had expected some pause for serious evaluation, but nothing as wild as this. I realized I had blown apart a rapturous fantasy of unlimited men for her taking that had seized her only moments earlier. A rapturous fantasy heavily freighted with the delicious experience of Roger, and her regret at ending it.

"Jill, Jill, Jill. Do you fully understand what I am proposing to you?"

"Once a year, one man, one fuck, and kaput, over and done with. You think I've suddenly gone stupid on you?"

"I can never think that."

"Why the restriction? Why couldn't I have him more than once.?"

"You are thinking of Roger, and how much you wanted him again."

"Well, yes. That's exactly what I am thinking."

"So am I," I said. "And that would lead to something I couldn't live with. It simply would not work."

The hard edges of her anger softened and fell away. "Jack. Love of my life. Do you think, even a little bit, I could ever fall in love with another man?"

"I think you could, a little bit, but that is not something I really fear. You honestly said before that in the passion and heat of the moment you felt some variety of love for the men I watched fuck you. They were real and alive and there, and their person and bodies and cocks were very precious to you. I understood that. Those feelings had no staying power after the men were gone. But I was there with you. If you had carte blanche to fuck Roger repeatedly, I wouldn't be there."

She thought. "I see your point," she said.

"And speaking of repeatedly, how often is too much? What if I were to say, ok, I think your fucking Roger three times a year is reasonable, but that's all you get. Would that be a restriction as onerous as once only? A rule laid down by a domineering husband?"

She broke out honest laughter. "This is the most bizarre negotiation I've ever been in! How often my husband will allow me to fuck my lover."

There was no bite of sarcasm in what she said.

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