We’d heard about Aphrodisia from friends who had heard about it from other friends. That’s the only way to discover it, because they do no advertising, have no social media or other online presence, and make no pretense of being for everyone or trying to cater to the masses. Instead, by catering to a select few, and only by referral, they can keep each experience unique and memorable and of the highest caliber, something no one who is privileged to enjoy it will ever forget.

“They” are a group of talented sensualists and voluptuaries who specialize in exotic erotica, in sensuality and fantasy, and making people’s wildest, most erotic wishes and fantasies come true – at a price, of course, and a substantial one at that.

With the referral from our friends and the arousing tale of their Aphrodisia encounter fresh in our minds we made contact with the appropriate representative by phone, answered a long series of questions, and were accepted for an in-person interview the following day, Tuesday, to see if we’d be deemed suitable for an Aphrodisia adventure of our own. The following afternoon we arrived a few minutes early for our two o'clock appointment, both of us filled with nervous arousal and a dollop of trepidation but with tummies full of butterflies and our sexual energy running high.

The setting was an older mansion in a wealthy part of town, the huge old homes set far apart and well back from the street on spacious, carefully groomed, and well-shaded lots. Unlike many of the newer McMansions, this one was elegant and stately rather than gaudy or overdone, and it virtually shouted “old money”.

I know little of architecture, but recognized it as Beaux Arts style, with strong French and Italian Renaissance influence. The wing on the left side had an elaborate domed glass roof with green-patinaed copper arches, mullions, and a weathervane, likely a conservatory or greenhouse of some kind.

The curving drive led to a broad cobblestone parking area at the foot of a broad, short staircase, and we’d no sooner stopped than a uniformed attendant opened Emma’s door and assisted her from the car. He then crossed to me, directed us up the front step to the tall double doors beneath a small portico, and ferried my car away around the side of the building. I took Emma’s hand and we ascended to the door, which was opened by a second attendant as we approached.

He greeted us warmly and directed us to the receptionist’s desk in the quiet, spacious foyer, where a beautiful green-eyed young redhead awaited us. She greeted us by name, asked if she could get us anything – water, soft drink, coffee, perhaps a cocktail – and told us that Mr. Travis would be with us shortly. I had barely sipped my Ketel One martini or Emma her Chardonnay – and we’d had no opportunity to examine the beautiful erotic paintings adorning the walls - when a tall, well-dressed man approached us.

He was smiling broadly, and was good-looking I suppose, in a mature, older man sort of way; his hair and well-groomed mustache were sprinkled with gray and he was mostly gray to white at the temples, but glancing at my wife I could see that she found him quite attractive – and distinguished, no doubt.

“Mr. and Mrs. Harris, lovely to meet you, and welcome to Aphrodisia. I’m James Travis, the director of this enterprise; please call me James or Jim, whatever you’re comfortable with.”

We returned the greeting and asked him to please call us Emma and Ken, respectively; he shook my hand with a warm, firm grip after greeting Emma and bending to kiss her cheek, and then asked us to follow him to his office. There, in his spacious and elegant office, he directed us to a broad sofa on the side of the room rather than to the chairs in front of his desk and then turned a side chair to face us and took a seat, a small journal and Mont Blanc pen in his hand.

His office walls were also adorned with erotica, all of it high-end photography or paintings, ranging from erotically subtle and stunning to erotically hardcore, but nothing crude or gauche.

He gave us a moment to admire the works before he began. We chatted for a while, answering his questions, mostly, before he got down to business. “So then, what is it that you feel Aphrodisia can do for you?”

Although surprised by how quickly he cut to the chase, I appreciated his direct approach; still, I was nervous. “We, uh, we heard from our friends, Tom and Diana Stone, that you can make almost any fantasy come true.”

He held up one hand. “Almost any sexual fantasy, Ken; for instance, if you’ve fantasized about becoming a billionaire or growing taller, playing in the NFL or something, we can’t be of any help.”

Emma giggled, and I nodded, laughing. “Of course; I should have been more clear.”

“I’m just yanking your chain, Ken. Please try to relax and tell me about yourselves and your desires; I can almost assure you it’s nothing I haven’t heard before, and that we’re very discreet and very good at making your fantasies a reality.”

“Tom and Diana assured us of that; they had nothing but good things to say about their experience.”

He smiled. “Yes, they seemed to very much enjoy their visit – in fact, they’ve requested another certain experience, which I’m sure we’ll be able to provide. So, tell me, what’s your pleasure?

I blew out a tense breath. “Wow, this is more difficult than I thought it would be…." I paused, then continued, “We have played with one particular fantasy for a long time, something we both find very arousing, but have been hesitant to try to make come true for several reasons, not least of which are risk and public exposure.”

He made a note, then nodded. “I’m sure we can allay your fears on that front. Tell me.”

Much to my surprise, Emma spoke up before I could formulate a reply. “Jim, Ken would like to watch me make love to another man.”

My jaw may have dropped; to be so bold with a stranger was somewhat out of character for her, and while her statement wasn’t exactly accurate (I wanted to watch her fuck another man. “Making love” had nothing to do with it; that would always be my bailiwick.) I think her sudden boldness was indicative of how excited she truly was by the prospect.

I stammered, “Yeah, that’s it. I know you think I’m weird and wonder why any man would want his wife to fuck someone else, but for some reason, I find the idea very exciting. You know, arousing…”

He smiled. “Ken, believe it or not, that’s one of our most popular fantasies. I think a lot of men want to witness their wife’s pleasure without the pressure and distraction of providing it, and too, it’s a validation of your wife’s attractiveness to another, which strokes our male ego. We all like to think we have something others want or lust after, right?”

I hadn’t considered that, but he was right. I was also relieved that he hadn’t laughed at me. “Well, yes, I suppose so; I hadn’t considered it that way. But logistically we just haven’t discovered a good way to accomplish it… I mean, a friend or acquaintance is difficult. Any of us might be very uncomfortable afterward, so much so that it could destroy a friendship, and the person remaining in our lives could prove awkward going forward. We’d each always be aware…”

He interrupted me. “Of course, and that’s something many people don’t consider. A stranger, on the other hand…”

This time Emma interrupted him. “That just has so many risks, more than we can assume. Such a person could be dangerous, destroy our lives, perhaps form an attachment or threaten to blackmail us by revealing everything to friends or family, or could be someone violent or carrying a disease. And finding someone like that, whether in a bar or online, or…” she shrugged. “It’s just not a viable option.”

He nodded knowingly. “No. It’s very risky, as you say. You’d face none of those issues with us; all of our gentlemen are carefully screened and closely monitored, and all are professionals, well-trained to provide the optimum experience with no unpleasantness. They are very well compensated for their talents and thus motivated to do well and remain in our employ.” He smiled. “In addition, you can preview their, uh, qualifications, if you so desire.”

I think I caught his meaning just seconds before Emma did, but when she did I could almost feel the sparks of arousal jump off of her. “You mean I can choose ahead of time? You don’t randomly assign someone?”

He laughed. “Of course you get to choose! No matter how carefully I screened you, I could never know what appeals to the two of you in the way you do yourself, not for anything so intimate. We have, I believe, seventeen or eighteen young gentlemen currently on our staff that should fit your needs, a few more if your preference allows for a more mature man, and all of them are in our portfolio for your perusal. Would you care to take a look?”

Emma responded eagerly, “Yes, I’d love to see!”

I shrugged, laughing. “You seem to have hit her right in the zone, James; my wife loves to admire sexy young men, and she loves to shop, so this is the best of both worlds. Shopping for Studs. How do we go about it?”

He grinned and led us to a desk against the wall, where there was a computer with a large, touchscreen monitor as well as a traditional keyboard and mouse. “I can set you up here, or give you a tablet that you can take out into the garden or conservatory if you like; most people seem to prefer the larger monitor.”

I let Emma make the choice, and while I knew she’d enjoy the garden, she opted for the larger monitor. He typed in a few brief commands, touched the screen to adjust the image, and then set us loose to browse their selection of potential sexual partners for my wife; it was a bit surreal to think of it that way, but also fascinating, and I was intensely curious to see how she responded.

He’d told us that we could select from three options for each candidate. Each gave vital statistics such as age, height, weight, race, eye color, etcetera, but for the images, there were three options:

The “G-rated” option, logically designated “G”, had mostly fully-clothed images, nothing more risqué than shirtless, but a selection from formal wear to business suits to full casual, jeans or khakis, but more than enough to see that all were good-looking and very fit younger men, mostly in their twenties. He explained that some women sought men to escort them to public functions, and thus needed someone that looked good in a suit, tux, or casual sportswear.

The “R-rated” option (designated “R”) also included more scantily-clad shots, including swimwear and underwear shots taken both fore and aft. The swimwear selection included a few Speedo shots, and the underwear shots included bikini-style and thongs. In all, quite revealing but still leaving a little bit to the imagination of the client.

The” X-rated” version, he’d told us, leaves little or nothing to the imagination. All of the possible candidates would be fully revealed, from all angles, and would include shots thoroughly showing their “qualifications” in both the relaxed and fully aroused state. I expected Emma to choose Option X and was very excited to see her reaction; to my surprise (and yes, slight disappointment) she chose “R”.

When I questioned her choice, she laughed. “I’d like to leave something to the imagination, Kenny – and besides, cock size is more important to you than it is to me.”

She always said that and it may even have been true; for some reason, my fantasy of her with another man always involved a well-endowed man, not a freak, but also not some average schmuck like me. I don’t know why, because I am very average to slightly large, so it’s not as if she’d been deprived, but we did have one toy we played with that was considerably larger than me, and she always seemed to enjoy it a great deal. Accordingly, you might understand my skepticism…

In any event, she insisted that the well-filled pouches of the Speedos and tiny underwear or thongs would be more than enough information for her to make a choice, and yet they would still retain a tiny bit of mystery and give her one more thing to look forward to. So, Version R it was!

As it turned out, it was plenty, the anticipation easily as powerful as any more revealing images would have been, and by the time she’d looked at five or six of the possible choices, she was visibly aroused, her face and neck flushed and her nipples jutting through her thin knit shirt. She even seemed to be squirming in her seat, unable to remain still.

Merely looking at them in an electronic format – and possibly the fact that she knew each was available – seemed to be fueling her fantasies. I figured she’d be dripping, and when I sent an exploratory hand beneath her skirt, I discovered that I was correct. Her panties were soaked through!

Also, she didn’t try to stop me or push my hand away. She looked around quickly to be certain we were alone, then moved her knees apart and let me play. And play I did, aroused by her arousal as she moved through the dossiers of one beautiful stud after another, admiring their handsome faces, chiseled physiques, and, in a few shots, large masculine bulges.

When she suddenly paused her scrolling and leaned back, blowing out a long breath, I stopped fingering her pussy. “You okay?”

“Phew! Yeah, I’m okay. Horny as hell, and please don’t stop. I’m probably going to come soon, and I desperately need to.”

I grinned. “Enjoying it, huh?” I slipped my fingers inside the gusset of her panties and between her puffy, slippery lips. The sensation of her soft, slick pussy bits on my fingers always makes me hard; this time I already was, so it made me throb with arousal. Her clit is largish and easy to find when it’s erect, like now, so I found it and stroked it.

She closed her eyes as she gasped, a tremor running through her, then said. “Oh, God!”

“Feel good?”

“Feels incredible, yes. I’m so fucking horny!”

I love that she’s so open and easy about her sexuality, never ashamed of her body or her powerful libido; without that, we probably would not be sitting where we were. She loves and fully appreciates sex, is imaginative and uninhibited, and when she knows something sexual appeals to me - or both of us - eagerly embraces it.

“Why did you stop shopping?”

“Because I could keep scrolling back and forth for hours! I need to winnow it down to the two or three we like best and then choose one from that smaller group.”

“Well, sure. That’s probably a good approach.” I was pleased that she’d said “we” regarding choosing the finalists; I’d been prepared to allow her full freedom to choose, considering she was the one most involved. “I’ll help you narrow it down, then you can pick your favorite, since you’ll be the one who’ll be, um, gettin’ jiggy wid it.”

She laughed. “Don’t do that; you’re much too white.”

I joined her in laughing at myself. “Ain’t that the truth! I did notice a couple of nice-looking black guys in the portfolio…” We’d played with that fantasy a little bit. She enjoyed it, but it was not an obsession.

Emma said, “The one, in particular, was very handsome, He had a beautiful smile.”

“And a very large bulge in his Speedo, if I’m thinking of the same one.”

“Yellow Speedo?”

“Yes.”

“I hadn’t noticed.”

“Ha! Bullshit! I almost heard you getting wetter and your nipples popping out.”

She giggled, and I knew she was very excited. “Okay, yes, he appeared to be quite blessed in the male appendage department. But that’s a bigger factor to you than it is to me.”

I still had my fingers in her pussy, where I’d been very gently stroking her hard clit and wet lips, keeping her simmering. “Sure, babe. And it has nothing to do with the fact that you’re so hot and wet we could keep tropical fish in your pussy.”

She giggled again as she said, “You’re disgusting! In fact, if you’re not careful…oh, fuck, God!”

I’d flicked her clit with two fingers, interrupting her train of thought. “I’m sorry; what if I’m not careful?”

“Stop that! As I started to say if you’re not careful…” I flicked her clit again, but this time didn’t stop. Her back arched, her hips thrust forward, and she soon had a strong, beautiful orgasm. As soon as she could speak, despite still riding the echoes of her orgasm, she ground out, “…if you’re not careful I’m going to come!”

“That is not what you were going to say.” I pushed two fingers into her and she thrust herself onto my hand, then I quickly withdrew them and used the same dripping digits to mash her clit in tight little circles, and she came again, even harder. I love that when she gets totally involved she completely cuts loose, but this time, because of where we were, her noise level was a bit concerning. “Ssshhh, babe! Try to keep it down!”

“Ohhh, fuck you! If you’re embarrassed, get your fingers out of my pussy!”

Well, yes, there was that. I didn’t do as suggested, but I did let up on diddling her clit. “Better?”

“Fuck that felt good, but no more.”

I tickled her clit again. “You sure?”

She shuddered, then brought her hand up hard between my legs and grabbed my balls. “I’m sure.” She squeezed. “Okay?”

I squeaked, “Sure, whatever you say!”

“You’re always so obedient when I do this. You’re also hard as a rock. Should I embarrass you now, leave a big wet spot on your pants?”

“As long as it’s not blood…”

She laughed and released me, pausing to stroke my hard bulge a few times. “You know I’d never hurt you – besides, I always try not to break my toys.”

“Lucky for me.” I feigned injury, gently readjusting myself and making her smile. “So then, back to the grindstone?” I looked at my pussy-slick fingers; seeing no convenient place to dry them, I sucked on them instead. That did nothing to alleviate my stiffened condition, and when Emma pulled my hand to her lips and completed the task, my cock throbbed. I finished drying them under my arm, but the seductive, intoxicating scent of my wife’s arousal remained in my nostrils, and probably in the air.

She turned back to the screen.  She said, “I think I can eliminate this one. Just too pretty for a man. And this one too; I hate that long hair on top and shaved sides look.”

I made a mental note, glad I’d delayed getting my overdue haircut. Maybe it wasn’t time for a new look after all. We were finally making progress though! A dozen or so more handsome studs she’d have to begrudgingly pass on and we’d be getting somewhere!

One by one she winnowed them down for various reasons – too hairy, too slender, man bun, too short, a bit too stocky. Too preppy, and so on. I almost felt sorry for the poor guys that were not going to get the chance to enjoy my wife’s carnal and uninhibited sexuality, those who would not experience her eager and sensitive nipples nor the luscious and lubricious squeeze of her tight pussy, or the voluptuousness of her firm and delectable ass. Almost… but I knew one would be, and that kept me hard and quivering with arousal (accompanied by waves of jealousy) as she made her choice.

And it was her choice; she was the one that would be intimate with him, would touch and be touched, would fondle and be fondled, and would welcome him into her mouth and her body in that most intimate of all acts. She needed to choose someone that would satisfy her fantasy. The simple fact that she would be doing it satisfied mine, and although there may have been details in which I might have gone a different direction, those details, her choices, were what would make it the experience for her that I wished it to be.

Emma finally narrowed it to three, all beautiful specimens of masculinity, and then to two. One was Marc, the tall, muscular, handsome black man with the “beautiful smile” and the overtaxed yellow Speedo that she “hadn’t noticed”… sure, right. Color me surprised.

The other, Andre, was a sleekly muscled fellow, also tall, but with brown hair, a great tan, and hypnotic, light-grey eyes. There was a shot of him in snug and tiny boxer briefs which sharply delineated a matched set of large, firm testicles and a long, thick ridge that ran from front and center to the region of his left hipbone. If it wasn’t erect in that shot, there was a good chance that it might be quite alarming when it was.

In fairness to my wife, there weren’t a lot of options in the file that didn’t have impressive male bulges. The fact that she’d chosen two who did may have just been a matter of the odds, but it did not lend credence to her claims of that feature not being terribly important to her. When I kidded her about that, she blushed but swore that she’d chosen them from the mostly dressed photos before going to the more revealing shots.

I’d laughed. “Don’t be embarrassed babe, that’s not like you.”

“I’m not embarrassed, just upset you don’t believe me.”

“Why are you blushing?”

“I’m not. It’s just a leftover sexual flush from what you did to me.” That was possible. While I considered that, she said, “Besides, you should be the one blushing; you’re the one that’s so interested in big cocks. Are you sure you don’t want to take my place here?”

I objected. “Hey! I’m interested for you, not for me. I just want you to enjoy yourself.”

“And fulfill your fantasy at the same time.”

“Well… yes, there is that fringe benefit. But if you don’t enjoy yourself, it won’t be any good for me either.”

She shook her head. “Thanks. No pressure there!”

“No, I don’t mean it like…”

“I’m kidding. I fully expect to enjoy myself - if I can figure out which one of these two I should pick.” She paused. “Or I could be greedy and choose both.”

“Are you serious?”

“Maybe; do you think they would do that?”

I shrugged. “Probably. I mean, sure, yeah, for a price. We can ask.”

She gave it some thought. “No, I think I’d better go with just one. If all goes well maybe we can do it again sometime.”

Unless it turned out that my jealousy overrode my fantasy, I was amenable to that. We’d always taken two major vacations per year, one in spring and one in the fall, and we’d go someplace exotic for ten to fourteen days, stay in 5-Star hotels and eat at Michelin 3-Star restaurants. We’re not millionaires but we’re more than comfortable and so could afford it. We’d planned our Aphrodisia adventure in place of one of our trips, so cost was not likely to be a major hurdle.

She waffled badly on her choice, sliding from one profile to the other on-screen, and I could tell that she was genuinely conflicted. “Babe, if you want both…” The idea of her taking on two such studs at once was an expansion on my fantasy that left me shaken but intrigued.

She shook her head. “No, this one.” Decision made, she clicked off Marc, the black Adonis, and brought up Andre, the equally Adonis-like white guy. “Him. I’m sure.”

“Good for you! He’s very handsome, very sexy. What made up your mind?”

“His eyes. I want to be staring into those eyes when he enters me. They’re so captivating.”

My breath caught and I think my heart stuttered. I want to be staring into those eyes when he enters me. Her words, a simple statement to denote the ultimate intimacy, suddenly made it so much more real, so much more intense and… momentous, I suppose. This was going to happen, and while the thought, the fantasy, made my cock throb and my libido soar, the possible significance of it was daunting.

I was silent long enough that she said, “Are you okay?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, I’m fine. I think it just hit me that we’re going to do this.”

“Are you having second thoughts?”

“You know me; I struggle to have one thought.”

She shook her head impatiently. “No, I’m serious!”

“No, I’m not; no second thoughts. I’m excited about it too, and yes, I can see why you find his eyes so captivating. The rest of him ain’t bad either, huh?”

She laughed. “No, it’s not. Are you having a man crush?”

“Hey, I’m not even gay, but I’d fuck him!”

She laughed again, as I’d intended. “Well, well! Maybe we can arrange that; would you rather fuck him or have him do you?”

“Never mind, you! Listen, if you’ve made your choice – and you’re sure – click on that icon he showed you so that he knows to rejoin us.”

She did, and within thirty seconds our host returned. Emma greeted him. “Mr. Travis, I think we’ve made a decision.”

“Please, call me Jim.  And who is the lucky man you’ve chosen for your Aphrodisia experience?”

Emma indicated the screen. “This one, Andre. I think he’s beautiful.”

Jim smiled. “Indeed he is, and very charming. It’s an excellent choice.”

I’d been amazed at how charismatic he was, how he always seemed to hit the balance between being smooth and solicitous while seeming neither obsequious nor unctuous, but the “excellent choice” remark had sounded too much like a tip-conscious waiter in a restaurant who would say the same thing, even if you’d just ordered the rotting fish in cat piss soup. We’ve never been back to that restaurant, by the way.

He’d raised my red flag with his banal response. “This Andre guy, is he good at this, or are you just bullshitting us?”

He looked shocked that I’d questioned him. “No, Ken, he’s outstanding; in fact, he’s in the top three of our gentlemen as far as repeat clients. Is there a problem?”

He’d seemed legitimately surprised and equally as sincere in his response, and now I felt bad. “No, I guess not. Just the way you said ‘excellent choice’, it sounded like such a phony, clichéd response. It bothered me.”

He frowned, considering that, before replying, “Yes, you know, I can see where such a hackneyed phrase might do that. I’ll need to strike that from my vocabulary, and I thank you for pointing it out. But Andre, he’s one of the best, I assure you. I believe he’s around here somewhere today, probably using the gym or the weight room. Would you like to speak with him?”

As we looked at each other, considering that, he went on, “Have you looked at his nude photos? He’s quite spectacular.”

Emma answered for us, only appropriate since it was her decision. “No, I don’t think so, neither a personal meeting now nor the more intimate photos. I want to be able to anticipate the unknown, to fully experience him.”

He grinned broadly. “That’s a true Aphrodisia-style answer, something only a true sybarite would say. That you’d deny yourself simple pleasure now for more profound pleasure later… quite the advanced sensualist, lovely Emma. It cements your status as our kind of people.”

As we laughed, he said, “So then, should we work out the details? Time and date, type of experience, logistics, and such?”

We agreed, and we all moved across to his desk where he awakened his computer. “When were you anticipating experiencing the wonders of Andre?”

Emma giggled. “I don’t know… this Saturday, perhaps?”

He hit a few keys. “Saturday is available. Shall we say six p.m. through two a.m.?”

I stared. “Eight hours?”

“We can make it ten or twelve if you prefer. First-time couples often choose the eight-hour package, however, unless they have opted for the full orgy experience. After eight hours, we find that a husband and wife are often eager to get back together… or am I mistaken? Were you to be a part of this adventure as well?”

“Well, yeah. I planned to watch.”

He smiled. “Yes, of course, but live, in the room, or were you going to take advantage of our remote viewing capabilities? Often, a wife will find that it allows her to lower her inhibitions if her spouse is not present in the room. And that tends to remain true even when she knows he’s observing from a remote location.”

“Wow. I don’t… I mean, I hadn’t considered…”

Emma said, “Kenny, I think Jim makes a good point; I might be less self-conscious if you weren’t there. I think that might be a good idea.”

“Really? Oh, well I…”

He interrupted. “I think you’d be quite pleased with our remote viewing facilities. Each such room is quite luxurious, and equipped with thirty-two strategically placed cameras, each utterly invisible but with full zoom and pan HD capabilities, the same number of microphones with high fidelity sound, and strategic lighting. The observation room has a dozen wide-screen HD monitors and surround sound via Revel audio speakers – astonishing; they are an audiophile’s wet dream. Trust me, you can hear each breath, each whisper, each soft movement of skin on skin – or you can turn it up enough to knock you off your chair without the slightest deterioration of the sound quality. It’s quite amazing.”

I was still disappointed. “I’d hoped to experience this with her.”

“Each observation room is directly alongside the voluptuary room and has a one-way glass wall between. You can view your wife’s pleasure either on-screen or through the glass.”

Emma said, “The ‘voluptuary room’?”

He grinned. “Bedroom is inadequate, and it sounds better than ‘performance room’, don’t you agree?”

She mock-shuddered. “Ugh, yes; voluptuary it is.”

He smiled again. “So, Ken does that sound all right to you?”

When I hesitated, he said, “I should caution you, the remote experience is more expensive. There will be several video techs and camera operators as well as a producer and sound engineer to provide a professional experience. In addition, you may choose to have an attendant or two – male or female, your choice – to be at your bidding.”

“My bidding…”

He laughed. “Exactly. They might pour your wine, offer you food, or perhaps a massage… or more personal services, if you so desire. You may enjoy that if viewing your wife’s adventure sparks your libido as you anticipate.”

I looked at Emma, and she was smiling with delight. “Sure, Kenny, get a young lady – or a young man, if you like, to help you, and you enjoy the experience. I know I plan to.”

“Really?” When she nodded, I shrugged. “Sure, I guess. I could try it.” I’d thought maybe that while my wife was enjoying another man I might hold her hand, kiss her or stroke her hair, or perhaps her breasts. In my wildest fantasies I’d imagined licking her pussy while his hard cock moved in and out of her, but if she’d be more relaxed without me there, well… she was doing this for me, in large part, so I would deal with my disappointment. But a personal attendant, that was a strange and titillating thought!

“Would I pick this, um, attendant?”

Before I could answer Emma said, “I’ll pick for you; It will be my gift to you.”

Jim nodded. “All right, then. As for you Emma, how did you envision this experience unfolding?”

“Oh, gosh… wow. I, um… I don’t know. Eight whole hours, huh?” When he merely smiled, she said. “Perhaps we could begin with some champagne, maybe strawberries. Soft music, talking, touching. Dancing, maybe?”

He nodded. “Of course. Dinner?”

“Something light, I think – but with a decadent dessert. Chocolate, for sure.”

“Whipped cream? Some people can become very creative with whipped cream; I know Andre can.”

She giggled. “I can only imagine.”

“Anything you can imagine we can make a reality.”

“Oh my…” She blushed, but she was getting into the fantasy, and it thrilled me.

He continued, “Anything else?”

“Um… massage, perhaps?”

“Would you prefer to give or receive this massage?”

“Ohh, my goodness. I meant to receive, but I might enjoy massaging Andre as well.”

“As would he, I’m sure.” He was making entries on his computer as she spoke, his eyes never leaving her face. I didn’t know if he was making notes or checking boxes, but he seemed quite intent. “And beyond that…?”

She smiled, lowering her eyes from his. “I think we can let things follow their natural course from there, don’t you?”

He laughed. “Yes, of course. I have to ask; anything off-limits?” When she looked at me, he said, “Anything at all. Now would be the time to mention it to avoid awkwardness later.”

When her eyes met mine, I shrugged. I left it up to her, but I thought I knew a few things she might place restrictions on.

Accordingly, when she said, “No, nothing off-limits. I’d hate to cramp his creativity. Tell Andre I’m his to do with as he will,” I was shocked. Intensely aroused, but shocked.

She looked at me and smiled. “Kenny, I don’t want to waste a moment.” I nodded, struck mute.

He said, “Condom?”

At the same time, we both said, “No.” We stared at each other, perhaps a bit shocked that we’d each so eagerly declined.

Jim clicked away, then stepped into the void. “I have a total for you here, Ken, if you’d like to approve it.” I stepped over to his desk and looked at the screen. It was a nearly insane amount for an eight-hour adventure, but in reality, less than I’d feared. 

I nodded, and he closed the window, his screen displaying an intensely erotic desktop screensaver image. “Well then, I think we’re done here. Emma, I will send you a link to choose your husband’s attendant. If anything else occurs to you, please call or message me, and I’ll do the same.”

We nodded, rose, and said our goodbyes. He shook my hand warmly and gently kissed my wife, right on the lips. “I’ll see you two on Saturday! I hope you’ll look forward to it as much as we will be.”

Our car magically appeared as he led us down the front steps, even the valet somehow anticipating our every move. We didn’t speak as we descended the curving drive, but then Emma said, “I need you to take me home and ravage me. I’m so horny I’m about to die!”

I laughed. “I know, me too. Maybe a little mutual ravagement is in order. Tit-for-tat, if you will.”

“I’ll supply the tits if you’ll supply the tat.”

I laughed again. “I don’t even know what that means… well, what half of that means, anyway, but absolutely. You can have all of the tat you can handle, and if we get any cum on those tits, I’ll lick it off.”

She reached over and squeezed my rigid erection. “You better believe you will, big boy…"