I don’t know why we’re doing this,” Mallory protested, sounding just slightly irritated, probably because she was hungry. “Do we have to go over it again?” I replied. “You know as well as I do that this relationship has hit a wall. It’s stopped dead in its tracks…practically dead, flatlined. Too much stress, too much distraction, too much discomfort, and not enough of, well…us,” I concluded. “Well, if you ask me, this all...

I got about four hours of sleep and arrived at my job site on time to get my guys doing everything they were supposed to be doing. I didn't mention anything about my previous evening's escapades because I knew nobody would believe me. I could hardly believe it myself. However, it wasn't long into the day before I received a text message from Lane. She said: “I had a fantastic time last night, and I’m looking forward to th...

I opened Mallory's car door as usual, got in the other side, started the car, and said, “So, post-game review. How do you think that went? Were you uncomfortable?” “Maybe a little, at first, when I saw him, it brought back a rush of recollections,” she admitted. “I remembered a lot of stuff, and it was embarrassing, and kind of exciting at the same time,” she admitted, although understated. “Scene of the crime stuff again...

We arrived at a typical Pacific Grove Victorian. It had been sectionalized into four or five smallish apartments, each of which had a view of the bay. Lane invited me in and offered me a seat on the couch. She lit the fireplace that was next to the bed in this Bohemian, oversized studio. The furnishings were very artsy and somewhat antiquated, with lots of candles and oil lamps. I also noticed the walls decorated with pai...

“Is she okay?” Dean asked, still sounding worried. “Oh yeah, I think she is. She’s just going to experience some awkward moments from time to time,” I responded. “In case you hadn’t noticed, she gets embarrassed pretty easily. I just don’t want her to experience any undue uncomfortably.” “Given the situation, I’d say that’s pretty damn normal, and not too much to ask,” he agreed. “Given the situation, it’s a miracle that...

And so began a normal day, full of normal goings-on, followed by a string of other days, much the same as the one before. Things seemed to have become a little more inwardly settled. Mallory was measurably more comfortable, and I was very relieved to see that. I suppose “The Event” wasn’t the most predominant thing on her mind. In fact, it hadn’t even been mentioned in more than a couple of weeks. I assumed that she hadn’...

Mallory got under the warm water and immediately relaxed, finding comfort in the routine. Flashes of memory began presenting themselves in a disjointed, random order. She saw herself on a bed, then in a shower, in an elevator with hands caressing her everywhere, on a sofa, lying down with hands stroking her hair. The more she thought about it, the longer the memory flashes became, until events began to weave themselves ba...

She fell asleep not long after getting in the car, which wasn’t the best idea because I was still slightly buzzed and, as usual, geographically challenged. There wasn’t much traffic, and I assumed every car I saw was a cop. We got into the house without incident, and I put Mallory into bed. I could only imagine what the morning would bring. We both slept much later than usual, and I awoke first. I got up, turned on her co...

I reclined on the bed, propped up against the headboard. Dean was still sitting on the end of the bed, I guess consumed in thought. He turned around and asked, “Do you think we’re done?” “I have no idea,” I replied honestly. “So far about a thousand things have happened tonight that I never would have imagined. I’m going to leave it up to her,” I said hearing water running in the bathroom. I could only suppose she was was...

“I’ll be back in a minute,” she announced, slowly rising off the sofa, teetering just a bit. “Don’t you gentlemen go anywhere,” she called over her shoulder, giggling just a bit as she closed the bathroom door. “Not until you tell me to,” Dean replied smiling gratefully. “That’s what I call following the rules,“ she answered, peeking through a crack in the bathroom door. “Hold that thought. I have plans for both of you.”...

“Whoa,” Dean exclaimed in disbelief. “We better get to the elevators, quick,” I replied. We both practically fell over each other in a rush to vacate the table. We hurriedly headed through the bar area toward the elevator, and there she stood with her back to us. The doors opened, revealing an empty, mirror-paneled lift. We entered and stood waiting for the doors to close with her between us. I glanced into the mirror and...

“Honey, this is Dean. Dean, this is my husband, Rick,” Mallory said kind of awkwardly, given the possible situation. Dean was, by my first impression, a good-looking, average guy. Not a gym rat, not overly dressed, not terribly young. Honestly, he had a very kind face. Certainly not the type to go accosting women in their places of business, at least, outwardly. He had light-colored eyes, the kind that doesn’t really have...

So, throughout the course of my day, I did a little research. What I found was that this is something of a common, albeit semi-closeted circumstance. Just like everything else, everybody with internet access has an opinion. Rather than spend a lifetime weeding through the ravings of couples for or against the ‘sharing’ behavior, I decided to concentrate on the opinions and findings of the professionals that were actively...

It's not really something anyone ever expects to hear. More so, it’s something that people dread to hear. The common response, aside from shock, a feeling of intimate betrayal and anger is, of course, disbelief. It’s always “Not my wife, she wouldn’t do something like that.” But more and more, the sad truth is, sometimes, she would. Statistics support that, although women are far more closed-mouthed concerning “indiscreti...

Lane and I met through an online dating service. It seemed to me to be one of those, “Too good to be true” kinds of things. Sexually, she was about as open as a twenty-four-hour convenience store. She was always open. I don’t remember what prompted me to write my first story but the effect it had on her and its unforeseen impact on our relationship will be forever etched in my memory. That being said, here is the story th...