Sleep was elusive and fitful, at best, and when the music of my alarm started playing I slid carefully away from Alli, who was sound asleep, spooned into the shape of my body. I shut off the alarm and walked around to her side of the bed, looking down at her. I kneeled alongside the bed and very gently removed a lock of her hair that had fallen across her face, pushing it back, and then brushed my lips softly over her cheek in a very light, gentle kiss, not wanting to wake her.

I whispered, “I’m so sorry, baby. So sorry”, and then rose to my feet and pulled the sheet and blanket up around her shoulders. She wriggled slightly as she snuggled into the warmth, but didn’t wake up, and I gazed at her loveliness for a long time before I went to take my shower, first taking a minute to go down and start a pot of coffee.

I ran the water in the shower as hot as I could stand it, hoping to perhaps scald away a little of the shame I still felt for my actions the previous night; I’d been an utter bastard, even if Allison remained unaware of my transgression, and my real reasons for taking her the way I had. I was exhausted from lack of sleep, and depressed, still more than a little ashamed of myself, but also still more than a little jealous and angst-ridden about “Derek”.

I was out of the shower and dried, just starting to lather my face for a shave when there was a light tap at the door, and Alli came in. “I hope you don’t mind, but I gotta pee.”

I glanced at her. “No, not as long as you do it in the toilet.” She smiled, and as she passed behind me to reach the commode she ran her fingers lightly across my bare back. I could feel the sleepy warmth radiating off of her, and smell the soft moisture and gentle scent of sleep and sex on her skin.

She yawned drowsily as she settled herself on the seat. It had taken us awhile after we were married to be able to share this particular ritual, to acknowledge that our new loved one was a mere mortal and would thus need to urinate from time to time. I had sleepily walked past her one morning as she was putting on mascara and then stood there, taking a long, satisfying leak. When finished, I’d turned to find her leaning against her sink, arms folded, watching me. She’d raised one eyebrow. “I guess this means that the honeymoon’s officially over, huh?”

I’d laughed, embarrassed; I’d been so sleepy, and the need so urgent and natural, that I hadn’t even thought about it! After that we became comfortable with it quickly, and yes, we were officially husband and wife, no longer newlyweds. We still each sought – and willingly granted – privacy for certain other needs, however; there are some things that any couple, no matter how close, or how long married, just don’t need to share!

When she was finished she flushed and came and stood behind, me, slightly to one side, watching me shave. I glanced at her in the mirror repeatedly, between strokes; she looked sleepy, rumpled, her hair mussed and creases from the bedding on her skin. She also looked naked and lovely, soft and vulnerable. Our eyes met for a moment. “What?”

“Nothing. I love watching you shave; it’s such a masculine, guy thing.”

“I do it almost every morning; if you want to get up early, you can watch me every day.”

“I don’t love it that much.”

We laughed. It felt good - normal - to tease and banter with her, the person that brings so much laughter, joy, and light to my life. At that moment it didn’t feel like I had assaulted her, or had wanted to hurt her the way I had so much - even if so briefly - the night before. I knew, and she didn’t. It was that simple, and I needed to find a way to live with it, because I would never tell her. Never.

I couldn’t tell her; first, because I was much too ashamed of myself, appalled and horrified by what I had done, and second, because if she ever knew that she’d called out Derek’s name at such a critical moment – and the pain it had caused me – she would be so terribly remorseful, embarrassed, and ashamed of herself. I didn’t want that. I had decided, while laying awake most of the night, that “Davey” and Derek”, both starting with the letter ‘D’, were easy to confuse; it had been a simple, natural error, and that was all, and I’d overreacted

I finished shaving, and while I was bent over the sink, rinsing my face, she playfully jingled my dangling bells. Drying my face, I looked at her. “You’re frisky for so early in the morning.”

“No, actually I’m worn out, but I couldn’t resist taking advantage of such…low-hanging fruit.” She laughed. “I never thought I’d hear myself say this, but I’m not the least bit interested in sex right now!”

As great as she looked, you’d never guess that she was worn out: I, on the other hand, looked and felt like cat vomit. I was dead on my feet, exhausted from beating myself up, my self-esteem seemingly irrevocably damaged. I’m sure it showed on my face, and in my eyes. “Why don’t you go back to bed? I’ll try to be quiet.”

“I’d love to, but no. I’ve got to get to the shelter this morning; I spent so much time last week fighting that damned old pressure washer that I’m behind on other stuff. I need to play catch-up. Did you leave me any hot water?”

“Some. Maybe not enough - but on the bright side, when it turns cold it does this really cute trick with your nipples.” She smiled at me, almost as if she still loved me. “I’m sorry babe, I let it run, trying to wake up; I didn’t know you were going to get up early.”

“It’s okay, neither did I; I’ll grab a cup of coffee and a bite to eat first. Please tell me you made coffee…” I nodded, and she gave me the gift of that smile again. “You’re the best husband ever!”

I’ve always loved it when she says things like that, just little throwaway lines, but they matter. Today it merely hurt, because I knew otherwise. God!

We ate together, in the kitchen, me my bowl of Wheaties with raspberries on top, coffee, and orange juice, her some juice, coffee, and a poppy seed muffin. We didn’t talk much, and when she tried to initiate a conversation a few times, it quickly fell flat; I was not very good company, I’m afraid.

Alli knows me too well; she quickly picked up on the fact that something was off. “David, are you okay?”

“Mmm, yeah; tired, I guess. I didn’t sleep very well.”

“Really? Why? Are you coming down with something?”

No, my love, if only it were that easy! I knew why, but she never would. Never could. “No, just…I don’t know; restless, insomnia, something.”

She smiled. “Well, I slept like a rock! My god, you were magnificent – my magnificent stallion!”

I chuckled. “More like a jackass, probably.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, just a joke.”

“Hey, you remember how you asked me a few days ago about how I don’t very often have those huge, massive, exploding orgasms while you’re inside of me?”

“I remember.”

“Well, mister…last night? Twice!”

“Really?! I was surprised, of course, but also somewhat pleased; apparently my wife, unbeknownst to me – and, perhaps, to her – liked it a little fast and rough from time to time. She was, again and again, a revelation to me, an utter enigma; it certainly kept life interesting! Unfortunately, sad-sack, maudlin masochist that I apparently am, the thought that those big orgasms had come with an assist from Derek – and my own jealousy and rage - and not solely from me, and out of love, soon clawed its way into my head and took root. “Well, I’m glad you enjoyed it; I was a little afraid maybe I’d hurt you…”

“Oh, no, you didn’t hurt me! What’s that disgusting phrase they use to refer to rape…? ‘Assault with a friendly weapon’, yeah that’s it! It makes me so sick when you hear guys say that about rape and things, but in your case I do just happen to be very friendly with the weapon in question. You and your friendly weapon were amazing!”

“That is pretty tacky, babe. If some politician or something ever said something like that he should be hanged – justifiably! For that matter, that’s not a bad thought for politicians in general.” She laughed as I stood and put my things in the sink and slipped my jacket on. “Guess I’ll drag myself to work. It promises to be an interesting day, what with envisioning all of my co-workers naked…and wondering if they’re doing the same about me.”

She stood and came to me, wrapping her arms around me. “Just don’t spend too much time thinking about Marci and those big boobs of hers! On second thought, go ahead – just bring all those happy thoughts home to me later, along with the huge hardon I know you’ll have!”

“Mmm, you got it!” I groaned. “Marci…I hadn’t thought about how obnoxious she’s going to be today. This should be excruciating; thanks for reminding me.”

I turned to leave, but she put her hand on my arm and stopped me. I looked at her, and she studied my face for a moment, looking into my eyes. “Davey, you seem so down this morning, so quiet. Whatever it is that’s bothering you, you know you can tell me, right?”

I nodded, not speaking, and she went on. “Just so you know. I’ll always be here for you, honey, always. If you’re unhappy about anything, ever, I’ll try to help…you know that. I love you.”

We kissed, sweet, gentle and loving, and I gave her a tight squeeze. “I love you too, hon’…more than anything. Talk to you later, okay?”

She nodded, and I left with the image of her beautiful face and sweet smile firmly implanted in my mind. At work things went smoothly, and I was quickly into my routine, which allowed me to push my shameful behavior of the previous night to the back of my mind.

Marci bounced into my office when she got there, with a breezy good morning and a cup of Starbucks, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Hey, boss, how you doing this morning?” She set the cup on my desk. “Black with a little sugar just the way you like it. Recovered from the weekend yet?”

“Hi, Marce; thanks for the coffee, and no, not really sure I ever will. It was…different, that’s for sure.” She was watching me, an odd expression on her face, like she wanted to say something.

She turned and closed the door. “Can I talk to you about something?”

“You’re not quitting, are you?”

“What? No, of course not!” I was relieved; she’s a great assistant, my right arm for sure, and possibly psychic. Not an easy act to follow. She bit her lip for a second before continuing. “No, it’s about the party Saturday night.”

I groaned inwardly; I really, really didn’t want to discuss the party just then, although I knew it was unavoidable that it would come up. “Can it wait until a little later, Marce? I’ve got some things I need to look over, lease changes.”

She looked at me. “Are you okay today? You seem down – and you look tired.”

“Fine, mostly, but I am tired; didn’t sleep very well. Plus, I need to get this work done.”

“Well, if you must. I do want to talk to you though; it’s important.”

I wasn’t sure what that meant; I’d assumed she just wanted to tease me and kid around, or do the whole gossip sort of thing she does so well. “Later, Marci, I promise. In the meantime can you get me that old Stewart file? I want to refresh my memory on what this attorney agreed to last time.”

She left, and I went to work, still feeling very down and out of sorts, still beating myself up for losing control as I had. She brought me the necessary file, and I spent some time reviewing it, interrupted a couple of times by Charlie dropping in to ask a question about a guy he was working with, a guy that I’d done a couple of deals with in the past. I was deeply involved in the wording of a takings clause when there was a knock on my open door, and I looked up to see Oscar standing there. I smiled at him, and nodded, and he stepped into my office, stopping in the doorway. “Dave, can I close this? I need to talk to you for a minute…privately.”

I’d been right; it was going to be one of those kinds of days. “Sure, Oscar, come on in. I needed to take a break and shake the kinks out anyway.”

He closed the door, and then took a seat in one of the chairs facing my desk, clearing his throat nervously. Without beating around the bush or making any small talk, he got right to the point; I admire that about Oscar, he has a tendency to say what’s on his mind! “Dave, I wanted to explain about the party, and Charlie fucking my wife. I didn’t want you to think badly of anyone.”

I laughed. “Good morning to you too, Oscar; did you have a nice weekend?”

He grinned sheepishly. “Yeah, sorry; good morning. It’s just been bugging me, that you might have misconstrued what went on there…”

“Oscar, relax. First of all, no, I don’t think badly of anyone over that – really, it’s not for me to have an opinion one way or the other, since you’re all consenting adults, right?” He nodded, looking relieved, and I went on. “Also, as is usually the case, Marci had the inside scoop on the whole arrangement and she kind of filled me in, so I guess I sort of understand the whole thing. If you enjoy it, and Irene does, and of course Charlie does…”we both laughed at my ability to understate the obvious, and I continued, “…then who am I to knock it?”

He leaned back in his seat. “It’s a weird thing, I know.”

“Maybe just a little.”

He laughed ruefully. “Look, I understand that I’m maybe not the most well-endowed guy, or the world’s best lover, but Irene loves me, and I love her. I just wanted her to be able to experience that, a guy who was hung and could fuck her that way. So she could enjoy that kind of sex, like she should be able to.”

“I can’t believe I’m going to ask this, but was she unhappy with your love life? Is that something she expressed a desire for, that she wanted?” It was an odd situation, but he’d opened the door, and now I was curious.

He laughed softly. “Oh no – god no! She’s so shy and repressed about sex…I had to talk her into it, and it took some doing!”

“Okay, now I’m confused. Why would you…?” He cut me off in mid-question.

“Have you ever watched your wife make love, Dave?”

I shrugged. “Pretty much every time, unless we have the lights off. Sure.”

He shook his head. “No, I mean to someone else, where all you had to do was observe her reactions, listen to her sounds, see her orgasm, how her body responds, and the look on her face. You’ve never done that?”

I shook my head. “Sorry, Oscar, but no; by the time we were together Alli pretty much wasn’t making love to anyone else – and if she had been, I doubt that I’d have been invited.”

We both laughed, and he continued his explanation. “It’s incredible! I mean, just the chance to sit back and observe, to see your partner, the woman you love, experience that kind of joy, that kind of pleasure. And I get to watch – or even when I don’t, I know what he’s doing to her. Sometimes I think it’s more intense for me than it is for her, the pleasure it brings!” He was almost shivering with the thought of it, the thrill he enjoyed from their fun and games. “Plus, as you saw, sometimes I play a…supporting role, I guess you’d say.”

I nodded. “I suppose there’s something to that. I mean, when I touch Allison, and do those things where I can sort of sit back and see how she responds…that is pretty intense for me too. So yeah, I guess I understand, in a way – but don’t you get incredibly jealous?”

He nodded. “That’s part of it. I get very jealous, even humiliated a little bit, and very nervous about it – what if she doesn’t want me anymore? If he’s better than me? But I know she loves me, and that she always will…still, the risk factor is part of it, Dave, of the thrill. Maybe a big part.”

“I guess I’ll have to take your word for that. It’s not something I can claim to understand; it would destroy me.” I looked at him for a moment. “Oscar, I gotta ask: Why Charlie, of all people?”

He laughed out loud. “I know, right? But in many ways, he’s the ideal guy for it; he has an insatiable sex drive; he’s hung, and he can fuck her until she passes out; he loves it, the whole game, making me jealous and making her come in front of me; and, most important, he won’t get attached. Charlie knows it’s just fun and games, and he has no deep emotional ties to her, no designs on Irene. Most importantly, when I finally talked her into it, and asked if she thought of any particular guy that she might be interested in, her first thought was that it had to be someone we knew, that she was comfortable with…and Charlie was the one she came up with!”

I could well imagine that they had encountered little if any resistance from Charlie, when approached! “That must have just about blown your mind, huh?”

He shrugged. “Yes and no. He’s always been very nice to her, and let’s face it, Dave; for whatever reason, women love the guy.” He paused, and then chuckled. “And it didn’t hurt in the least when we found out that he was hung like he is – although, in all honesty, I think that was more important to me than it was to her…not that I’ve heard any complaints from her either, you understand.”

I was somewhat taken aback, first that he would tell me any of that, and second that he’d so easily acknowledge that the “well-hung lover” part of the fantasy was primarily his. “But Irene is good with it now, in spite of being not so enthused at the beginning?”

“Are you kidding? She’s enjoying it so much…and you wanna know something weird?”

“You mean there’s something else?”

He laughed. “Yes! I actually think our love life has gotten better, like it’s added a whole new spark. Damnedest thing, and we held off so long, mostly because she was scared. We both were, but her, mostly. Afraid it would break us up, but it’s made us better.”

“Well, I guess I’m happy for you, even if I don’t get it. Different strokes, as they say; but as far as me thinking badly of you and Irene, forget it! You two seem very happy; that’s what counts, right?”

He nodded, smiling. “Don’t hassle Charlie about it either, okay? I know you think of it as a risk to the company, but trust me, Irene and I are not looking to harm anyone. We’ll sign something to that effect, if you need us to.”

I laughed. “Thanks, Oscar, but I don’t think that will be necessary…I can’t even quite envision how I would tell the attorney to write that up! Some sort of post-nuptial, pre-cuckolding, hold-harmless agreement, maybe; interesting concept, but we’d best let it slide.”

“Thanks for listening, Dave, and for being so nice about it. Umm, do we have to tell Louis about any of this?”

“We should, probably, but no; I’ll make the call. What happens in the hot tub stays in the hot tub – or your home, or Charlie’s place, or wherever. Don’t engage in any of your, umm…activities here at the office, okay?”

“Oh no - God no! We’re a bit impulsive and kinky, maybe, but not that bad!” He stood and headed for the door. “I’ll let you get back to work. Thanks again.”

“No problem, Big O – hey, give Irene my love…no, strike that; just tell her hi for me. One extra-marital partner’s love is plenty!”

He departed, chuckling, and I just sat there for several minutes, thinking about all he’d told me, amazed and a bit in awe of the unusual, complex, and complicated things people could get themselves involved in over something as basic as sex.

Between work and Oscar’s odd and incredible revelations my mind had sort of been off my shameful behavior with Alli the previous evening. Now it all came rushing back, compounded by the knowledge that Oscar loves and adores his wife even though she was eagerly screwing another guy – admittedly at his urging – while I’d been prepared to cause Allison harm at the mere thought of her fantasy of herself and another man together. I felt about two inches tall.

I re-immersed myself in my work, seemingly my only refuge from my thoughts, pausing only to take a couple of calls. I was surprised when Charlie came barging in and said, “Come on, sad sack, I’m taking you to lunch.”

I looked at him, and then at my watch; to my amazement, it was almost noon. “Sorry, Charlie; I appreciate the offer, but I have a lot to do. I’m probably going to have Marci pick me up a burger or something. I’ll take a rain check, okay?”

“Not okay. You need to be out of here, and you need to tell old Charlie what’s got your dauber so down in the mud today; I’m tired of everyone asking me what’s wrong with you.”

I was a little amazed that anyone – but especially Charlie – had noticed. I’d thought I’d been acting fairly normal. “Well, that’s just about at the bottom of my list of things to do, so if you’ll close the door behind you…”

“Now Dave, you know I’m not leaving until you give up and come along, so why don’t you save us both a lot of time and effort…”

Actually, that was one of the things I’d always appreciated about Charlie; you never had to worry whether or not he’d stay too long and wear out his welcome, because from the moment he walked in your door you knew that he would. I caved – and I sighed. “Okay, Charlie, have it your way. But I can’t be gone too long, so we have to go someplace quick.”

“You got it, buddy! Come on, I’ll drive; I know just the place.”

I paused long enough to tell Marci I was leaving – and to promise, when she objected, that she could talk to me first thing in the afternoon. We hadn’t gone very far when it became apparent to me where Charlie was taking us. “Charlie, not Hooters, please? I really don’t want to go anyplace where I’ll be surrounded by beautiful, sexy women.” When he looked at me like I was insane, I laughed. “Okay, normally, yeah; today I’m just not in the mood, all right?”

He began to slow down, his car gradually losing speed as though he’d lost his way. Finally he looked at me. “Dave, I don’t know anyplace like that – I mean, maybe if they’re serving lunch over at the VFW hall or something…”

“Just Chili’s or something, Charlie, Applebee’s, whatever; a regular restaurant, not a breastaurant. Even fast food is fine, really.”

Barely moving now – cars whizzing around us, some honking – he turned and stared at me. “You don’t think you’re surrounded by beautiful, sexy women at Chili’s, or at a fast food place? Davey, old boy, they’re everywhere, those beautiful, sexy women, because women are everywhere and women are beautiful and sexy! You must really be out of sorts if you can’t see that…sheesh!”

He shook his head and started to speed up some. “I guess we could grab some tacos and go eat in the men’s restroom at the country club – it’s nice, and it would get you away from women.”

He actually got a laugh out of me. “Just go to Applebee’s, Charlie; I can deal with the type and quantity of women there – and most of them will be fully dressed, which helps.” The thing was, although he tried to make a joke out of it, Charlie was dead serious; he loves women, all ages, shapes, colors, and sizes, and makes no bones about it; he lets them know they are appreciated, sometimes in a somewhat crude or boorish way, but they eat it up. Not children, of course, very young girls; even Charlie isn’t that much of a pig. Any female and in their late-teens and up, though, married or otherwise, and he’s their biggest fan.

I suppose that’s not terribly surprising or unusual, for men to like and admire women, although his enthusiasm goes beyond what most are willing, or perhaps able, to display. The odd thing about it is that women seem to like old Charlie right back – Oscar had been right on target about that! I don’t know if it’s his boyish (if boorish) charm, his irrepressible admiration and enthusiasm, his open, guileless, almost-ugly face and inquisitive blue eyes, his pug nose and eager smile, or what, but women seem drawn to him. Rapport, I guess; it’s as though he somehow has this instant and effortless rapport with women.

Shown to our table at Applebee’s, he spent a few moments charming our beautiful young server before ordering us a couple of beers. I’d been intending to order iced tea, but I didn’t argue. Beer and Charlie actually go together very well; it may even be de rigueur. Lots of beer, usually.

Now he regarded me silently for a moment before getting to the reason he’d dragged me out. “Okay, buddy, what’s going on? Marci says she can’t tell if you’re pissed-off or just depressed, several people have said you’re moping around like someone just ran over your dog, and, if I may say so, you look like something the cat coughed up.”

My own analogy for my appearance had been a comparison to cat vomit; I spent a moment considering how interesting it was that he had chosen a nearly identical simile. “It’s nothing, Charlie, just something I have to work through.”

“The party, Dave? Are you having second thoughts about staying for my hot tub party, or what went on there?”

I laughed. “No, Charlie – well, yes, actually, but no, that’s not what’s bugging me. Can we talk about something else?”

“Is it because you popped your rocks so fast in front of all those people, Dave? Because that’s no big deal, it happens to everyone occasionally, you just forget…”

I cut him off. “Ssshhhhh! Jesus, Charlie, keep it down, would you?” He has one of those voices that tends to carry, and to ask a man who seems barely self-aware at times to be aware of others, and the fact that he might offend them, was setting the bar far too high. “And no, that has nothing to do with anything. Thanks for the reminder though; you do know how to cheer a guy up.” I looked around, and was relieved to see that there really was nobody else seated very near us.

It appeared his announcement had gone unnoticed; even our server, who had been approaching our table, seemed to have missed it.

We ordered our food before he went on. “Well you gotta tell someone, Dave, and you’ll find I’m a pretty good listener.” He regarded me silently for several seconds. “It’s not you and Alli, is it? You two aren’t having any marital problems or anything?”

I shook my head. “No. Well…no, not really.” He just looked at me, not saying anything; finally, for reasons I’ll never understand, I went on. “It’s about the pictures she had done – you saw them. The photographer, the guy that took those, I think maybe she’s got a thing for him.”

He stared at me. “Allison? Your Alli? No way, pal; she worships the ground you walk on.”

“Thanks, Charlie. The thing is, he got her to strip naked for those shots, which is so totally unlike her, and she talks about him all the damn time, to me, to Rob and Sherry, at the party…it seems like he’s really in her head.”

“You’re hallucinating – I think he’s only in your head!”

“He made her so comfortable she took her clothes off for him, Charlie, and he touched her as he was shooting, for posing and such, and it all made her very horny doing it. Incredibly horny…not a good sign, right?”

He shrugged. “I’m sure that would be normal for most women, in that situation. Fantasy stuff…you know how they are.” He paused for a moment. “We can have him beat up, if you want.”

“What?!” I wasn’t sure I’d heard him right!

“Beat up. I know a guy that will beat the snot out of him for about two hundred bucks. Could just break his fingers, so he doesn’t touch anyone for awhile.”

“No, I don’t want him beat up – and no finger-breaking, either. Jesus, Charlie!” I shook my head. “Look, he’s a pro, and he was just doing his job. I’m over-reacting and being an idiot, I know.”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”

“Yeah, well... The worst part? What really has me down today?” I told him about her calling out Derek’s name as she came, and how I had reacted, with white-hot rage and no control, and how horribly I had felt after…and still did, to a large degree. I’m not sure why I could talk to Charlie about it, except that we’d known each other a long time, and he’s had vastly more experience with women than I have!

When I finished telling him everything, he just looked at me for a long time. “You didn’t hurt her, did you?”

“No…but I felt like I wanted to. Scared the shit out of me.”

We paused in our conversation as our food was delivered, and then he picked up where we’d left off. “Remember, I can have you beat up for a couple hundred bucks too…hell, if you ever hurt Alli, I’d beat the crap out of you myself!”

I knew he wasn’t kidding; he loves my wife very deeply, in his way, and admires and respects her. He’s that way about women in general, so I never viewed him as a threat. They’re just great friends. “Charlie, if I ever left a mark on her, I’d beg you to beat me.”

“You got it. So you didn’t hurt her, really?”

“No.” I laughed softly. “Actually, what she got out of it was a couple of huge, monster orgasms; turns out she liked it a little fast and rough. Thank god!”

He leaned back, a look of wonderment on his face. “Alli? Our little Alli likes rough sex?” It was his turn to shake his head and chuckle. “Women, huh? They never cease to amaze me, confuse me, and leave me in awe!”

“I know. You could have knocked me over with a feather! She’s new and exciting and amazing to me every day, Charlie; every single fucking day! I feel like I know her so well, and then I find out something I never even suspected. Astonishing, that woman.”

“She definitely is.” He looked at me. “You know your problem?”

I laughed. “Yeah, I think so, but I’ll bet you’re going to tell me anyway.”

He nodded. “I am; your problem is life, my friend.”

I could hardly wait; unfortunately, he didn’t keep me in suspense long.

“David, old boy, life is like this; you live, and then you die, and in between there’s sunshine and there’s shit – hopefully more of the former, and not too much of the latter. Your problem is that you have so fucking much sunshine in your life that it blinds you to the occasional pile of shit, so when you inevitably step in it you think your world is coming to an end!” He laughed at his own analogy. “You need to learn to just scrape it off – hell, change shoes if you need to – and move on! Move on, my friend; you rocked your wife’s world with a couple of violent orgasms, and she loves you more this morning than she did yesterday. We should all be so fucking tormented.”

He was right – and I was astounded! It may have been the most beautiful thing I’d ever heard Charlie say – in his own inimitable way, of course. I was also struck by his unknowing allusion to the symmetry of what had happened with the small boy – Peter – at the park the previous morning, for which Allison had called me “a good man”, only for me, less than twelve hours later, to destroy the pride I’d felt at her words. I made a mental note to look up the meaning of the word ‘kismet’… and possibly ‘karma’. Pride goeth before the fall.

I looked at him, still amazed by his analysis. “Charlie, that was beautiful! I’m not sure if you’re channeling Shelley or Nietzsche, but that was both poetic and profound.”

“Fuck off. “

“No, I’m serious!” I laughed. “That was actually very philosophical – and stated as only you can – but you make a very good point.”

“Yeah? Well good. Wake up and smell the coffee, buddy – and now tell me about this ‘Shelley’ girl; do I know her? Does she have nice tits?”

“Ah, Charlie…it’s good to have you back.”

“What?”

“Never mind – just get the check; you’re buying, remember?”

As we were waiting for the check, Charlie said, “What you need to do is take the afternoon off and go buy that beautiful wife of yours some expensive jewelry, or flowers, chocolate, maybe a car or something – give her a special night, with the understanding that you’re really doing it to make yourself feel better, because she apparently doesn’t know there’s any reason to feel bad about anything.”

“Badly.”

“Yeah, that’s what I said.”

“No, it’s actually n…oh, never mind. That’s really a great idea, you know? You’re on a roll today.”

“I’m a regular Doctor Phil, ain’t I? I’ll even run interference with Marci for you – because I know she wants to talk to you about something – but only under one condition.”

“I hesitate to ask.” I did need someone to assuage Marci’s hurt feelings when she found out I wasn’t coming back that day, and that her desire to talk to me had been put off – by me, pushed back to the next day. She had acted as though it was urgent, and would likely not be happy. “Okay, what’s your condition?”

“That when you’re down there nuzzling around later, you give that sweet, horny little wet pussy of Alli’s a few nice nuzzles, licks, and kisses from me!”

“Jesus, Charlie – this is my wife you’re talking about!”

“Well, yeah – that’s why I’m asking you to do it; if she wasn’t your wife I’d do it myself! I mean, really, Dave… duh! Anyhow, it’s not as if I asked you to fuck her for me.”

I shook my head. “You’re something special, Charlie. But yeah, whatever. Tell Marce we’ll talk first thing tomorrow morning, okay? Tell her I promise, and to block out the time on my schedule.”

He agreed, and we left the restaurant. He was soon dropping me off at my car in the lot at work so that I wouldn’t chance bumping into Marci, and I took off like a scalded cat, my mission clear in my head. Charlie had suggested that I buy jewelry, chocolate, or flowers, but I’d thought of something that I knew Alli would appreciate more than jewelry or flowers…although perhaps not as much as chocolate. Plus, my idea was anything but a cliché; I’d kind of like to think that I have an original thought occasionally. I drove straight to the Home Depot.

Once there I made my way directly to the mower and outdoor tool department, whereupon the clerk told me that pressure washers were in the paint department. Go figure. I found them, and had the help of a very friendly and knowledgeable young man. I told him what I needed, and that it was for the animal shelter, and that it would get very heavy use. He led me to their two top-of-the-line models, both about six hundred bucks, and we compared features and talked dependability and ease of obtaining parts and repairs. I bought the DeWalt, a tool brand I’d always had good luck with in the past.

I insisted on the display model, already built, because I wanted to take it straight to Allison at the shelter, not go home and put it together. He acquiesced, even helping me take it out and wiggle it into my trunk; with the handle sticking up out of the trunk it just barely fit - there was absolutely no chance of it falling out unless I rolled my car over - and we tied the open trunk lid to the handle of the washer so that it wouldn’t bang around in the wind. He assured me that, other than a tank of gas and being connected to a hose and spigot, it was fully ready for use.

At the shelter I got the help of one of Alli’s volunteers, a strapping young guy named Jason, and he helped me unload it, very excited to see a replacement for their balky, worn-out, underpowered old unit. I asked him to go send Allison out so I could surprise her – cautioning him not to breathe a word of this to her - and then rolled the new power washer behind my car so she wouldn’t see it immediately.

She came out the front door looking a little bit frazzled, dirty and sweaty in a pair of old, shredded blue jeans that fit like a second skin, and through which her flawless skin showed at the numerous tears and rents. She wore green rubber Muck Boots almost up to her knees, and a pale blue t-shirt, plastered to her breasts, her braless nipples poking thorough plainly as she came out into the cool air and an oval-shaped sweat stain in the valley between; she had her thick, dark locks pulled back into a ponytail, a red bandana tied around her head. In other words, she looked incredibly sexy and alluring!

She was rubbing the back of her hand across her forehead, leaving behind a streak of dirt, and when she looked up and saw me her face lit up in a dazzling smile; that alone was worth the six hundred bucks! “Hi, sweetheart! What brings you by?”

I smiled at her, and we exchanged a brief kiss. “Oh, I just felt a need to see my beautiful girl…is she around here anywhere?”

“Ha ha, very funny!” She poked me in the ribs. “Careful, mister, or I’ll put you to work too, suit, tie and all!”

I grunted and pulled away, laughing. “Actually, I was just thinking how hot and sexy you look in your boots, torn up pants, and sweaty shirt with those cute little nipples sticking out.”

She colored instantly, even the fact that her own husband would notice – and comment on - her erect nipples embarrassing her. She looked around quickly, to make sure none of her people had overheard. “Stop that! Anyhow, I sure don’t feel attractive, all sweaty and dirty. Did you need something?”

“I was hoping I could talk you into leaving early. I’m taking the afternoon off, so…” I wiggled my eyebrows at her, and she smiled.

She looked wistful. “Sounds great, but we’re so far behind…that damned old pressure washer keeps quitting on us, we’ve had to mop and sweep everything out by hand. I probably should stay and work...”

I took her hand. “Oh yeah, about that…” I led her around my car “…I happened to stumble across this, and thought maybe you could use it.” She saw the powerful, shiny new unit sitting there alongside my car, and her jaw dropped. Then her eyes filled with tears and she almost leaped into my arms, wrapping herself around me and hugging me fiercely. I reflected on the fact that there are probably very few women out there that could be moved to tears – much less to a full-body hug - by the gift of a power tool.

“Oh my god! I love it, it’s just perfect! I stopped at the store and looked at them last week, but they’re so expensive, and we’ve got a full house right now…” I knew that meant that their funds were tight, and she’d merely added the new pressure washer to her ‘wish list’; it turned out that I’d had a rare moment of true inspiration, coupled with excellent timing. “This is going to be such a big help! You’re absolutely the best husband in the whole world!”

Again, all this, just for a power tool; amazing, huh? Of course, I knew that I was by far not the best husband even in the immediate vicinity, but it was great to hear her say it. I loved the feel of her in my arms, the healthy scent of her hard-earned sweat, and, even above the stink of the kennels, flowers. Always flowers. She felt warm and firm and lithe, bursting with vitality and strength, at once female and feminine, sexy and sensual. Despite everything I wanted her, right there and right then, and she felt my desire growing against her.

“Mmm, that’s cheating, getting all big and hard – I get a sympathetic wet response! Now I really do want to take the afternoon off, but I just can’t justify it.”

“Your folks can finish it up now, can’t they? With a dependable sprayer? Oh, and by the way, the guy said this thing is top-of-the-line, and powerful enough to peel sunlight off the sidewalk, so tell them to be careful!”

She laughed. “We will, don’t worry. You know what…I can’t leave right now, because we’re in the middle of something, but I could leave early, probably.”

“Now you’re talking! How early?”

She shrugged, her breasts rising and falling prettily with just the slightest jiggle. “I don’t know…a couple of hours, maybe? Two and a half, tops.”

I nodded. “That will work – give me time to get a nap in, maybe.”

She kissed me. “Be sure you do; I have a feeling you’re going to need all your energy later.”

I laughed. “Cheeky vixen!” She said she was going to send someone out to collect the new pressure washer, and turned to walk away. Her jeans were skin-tight across her perfect ass – and ripped on both cheeks! On the right the rip was lower, and the soft skin of her ass showed through; on the left, it was red satin panties. Plus, she has this walk… I gave a long, low wolf-whistle, and when she turned I said, “You, my dear, have mastered the art of sexy!”

She just snorted derisively. “Oh sure – ratty clothes, sweaty, dirty…”

“Sweaty dirty girls can be fun. Besides, you ass is showing.”

She reached back and felt the higher rip, laughing. “I know! I tore that out earlier, when I bent down! Guess these are trash now.”

“Not necessarily – you just need to wear them commando, so your panties don’t show.”

She laughed and shook her head. “Goodbye! I’ll call you when I leave; go get some rest – like I said, you’ll need it!” And with that she turned and went back to work. I rolled the pressure washer up to the door and headed back to my car, wondering how much Jason and any other male helpers were enjoying my wife’s exposed ass – and why that didn’t bother her!

Part of it, I knew, was that she was in her element; she was the boss there, at the shelter, and though she is a very easy boss, and her “underlings” are all volunteers, she’s the one in control, and with that comes confidence. Enough confidence, apparently, to walk around with her ass showing and nipples on display and not feel embarrassed or self-conscious about it. Or maybe she just enjoyed teasing the young guys, and the thought of them hobbling around with erections raging. Whatever, it worked for her, and she’d looked confident, happy, sexy…and, yes, dirty.

And that inspired the next part of my brilliant plan; I drove to the Bath and Body Works store near the mall, which was sort of on the way home anyway. Inside it took virtually no time for me to become dazzled by the displays of all the different soaps, lotions, bubble baths, scents, candles, and everything else, and I quickly realized that I was in way over my head…which, fortunately, was about the time Ashley showed up, introduced herself, and asked if I needed help.

“Well, I didn’t think so when I walked in – I mean, how hard can it be to buy a few candles and some bubble bath, right? But now…” I looked around and waved an arm helplessly “…yeah. I’m totally lost.”

She laughed. “Yes, we get that a lot. Mostly from men, and most of them have the same baffled expression on their face that you just had!” She laughed again, a very nice, soft, lilting laugh, and one that carried no note of ridicule or derision; just amusement. She was an extremely attractive young lady – young being the key word, as she could not have been over perhaps twenty. She had that glorious figure, the tight little body that some girls – women - in that age range are blessed with, and long, ash-blond hair, blue eyes, perfectly bowed, kissable lips, and very white, even teeth. She was maybe five foot three, tops, and very petite, but her confidence and calm demeanor made her seem taller, somehow; bigger, and in control.

“I was looking for something that would be sort of, mmm, romantic, I guess. Mood-setting.”

She smiled prettily. “And what mood are we going for? Romantic, you said, and…?”

I returned her smile, and recognized her teasing. “Romantic and sexy – you know, that kind of mood.”

She laughed again. “And who’s the lucky girl…it is a girl, right?”

I laughed and held up my left hand, wedding ring showing. “Yes, it’s a girl. A very beautiful one – my wife.”

She smiled. “She really is a lucky girl!” I felt myself blush slightly, the heat in my face; as if that wasn’t enough, I’m certain her next words turned my blush to crimson. “And I assume you’re hoping to get laid?”

I know I was bright red, but I tried to act cool and play along. “No, actually I’m pretty sure I’m going to get laid, Ashley; I’m just hoping to make it very special…memorable, I guess.”

“Oh my!” She giggled, pretending to fan herself with her hand. “It seems to be getting very warm in here!” I laughed, and she said, “Well, we do have products for romance, for setting a nice, peaceful, relaxing mood, and sensual things, things couples can enjoy together. What kind of setting did you have in mind?”

“Well…I was thinking bath, first, maybe a nice, relaxing, sensual bubble bath, with really luxurious bubbles, the room lit only by candles. Candles that smell good, I mean, that help set the mood, and a nice shampoo that is a good scent too, one that ladies like.” I hesitated, embarrassed to say more, but she’d asked. “A scent that says peace and relaxation, sure, but also desire and arousal. Which, of course, is what we’re really shooting for here.”

It was her turn to blush. “Oh! Well I sure wish that all the guys that come in here looking confused were as clear and open about what they wanted as you are; it would sure make my life easier. Follow me…?”

I realized she was waiting for me to fill in the blank. “Dave…I’m Dave.”

“Well then, follow me, Dave.”

She led me back to a display of various lotions, shampoos, and other items, and began to select a few that she felt would fit my plans. She began with a candle, bubble bath and lotion all labeled “Vanilla Bean”, and I was pretty much sold; I wasn’t sure what it would do for Alli, but it said sensual to me immediately. “Mmm, I really like that one! It would get me in the mood, I’m sure. In a heart beat!” Actually, I was already responding physically, partly to the rich scent, but the fact that Ashley was so near – and so very attractive – was undoubtedly contributing. And she also smelled very nice!

She laughed at my enthusiastic response. “I’m not going to need my pepper spray, am I, Dave?”

I blushed again. I hadn’t realized that I’d sounded quite that enthused! She smiled and went on, “Yes, males tend to respond very positively – sexually – to this scent. Also to pumpkin pie spice, cinnamon, and ginger, some of which are said to better than Viagra. All of those are food-related, though; does that tell you anything?”

She was grinning at me playfully, and I laughed. “Yes – the way to a man’s heart, right? The old cliché?”

She giggled. “Yes, of course! But the vanilla, most women find that very powerful and sensual as well. It makes me very…receptive.”

I smiled at her, raising my eyebrows. I’d thought maybe “aroused”, or even “wet”, was going to be the next word out of her mouth, but I had the sense that she’d dialed it back at the last second. She showed me a couple of others, but I kept coming back to the vanilla, and finally I said, “Let’s go with the Vanilla Bean – always trust your fist instinct, right?”

She smiled. “You’re almost too easy. No dithering and indecisiveness for you; you must know your wife very well!”

I laughed. “Some days I think I do, but then I discover that I’ll probably never know her as well as I’d like to. Okay, Ashley, we’re set for the bath; I’ll take the bubble bath, the shampoo and body wash, and about five- no, make it eight – of those candles.”

She began to gather things up. “You’re using it for romantic lighting and for scent, in a smallish room. Let me sell you three…maybe four of the vanilla, and the rest unscented; you want to romance her, not suffocate her.” I nodded, and she collected everything to the front counter. “Now, about the bedroom portion of your plans…”

I chuckled. “Yes, the important part! Let’s see, some lotion or oil for a nice massage, maybe? Different candles, or just move some of those out into the bedroom…” I paused, waiting for input, but she was obviously giving me time to make up my own mind. “You know, you’re a beautiful young woman, much like my wife; what would work best for you? Help me here, Ashley, I’m floundering!”

She smiled and blushed prettily. “Well….” She looked at me appraisingly for a moment. “I don’t normally do this except for my regulars, but I have the feeling that you and your wife are something special. Come with me.” She led me to the small stockroom, a few stacks of boxes, a desk in one corner and a tiny restroom off to one side; the door marked ‘Manager’ was tightly closed. She picked up a large, square leather briefcase – almost a small suitcase or valise – and set it on the desk.

She spoke to me as she was opening the case. “Are you familiar with essential oils?”

“I’ve heard the term, but no, not really.”

“I’m going to mix you some massage oil with certain essential oils that women find very sexually powerful, including one that makes me just about ready to jump on anything with a penis.”

“Oh. Well, that sounds good.” I was a bit at a loss for words over her frankness.

She laughed. “I’m embarrassing you; don’t be embarrassed, Dave. Love and sex are vital parts of our lives, a celebration of living; we should rejoice in it, enjoy each and every moment, and not be too embarrassed to even talk about it.”

“I know, and I agree. I just wasn’t raised that way. I am getting better about it.”

She smiled. “Good! Oh, this will also have a bit of ginger, which is said to have very powerful erection enhancing properties.” She winked at me; she was nothing if not utterly unabashed about matters sexual! “And it will cost you twenty-one bucks for six ounces – to me, not the store. You’ll be happy to know that it’s in a base – about ninety-five percent of it – made up of sunflower and almond oil, so it’s completely safe anywhere on the body and is especially wonderful on and around her yoni, and is fully edible.”

She had to explain the term “yoni” to me, and when she very bluntly did – pussy, in case you’re like me and didn’t know - it took me a second to catch the implications of her “edible” comment, whereupon I laughed, shook my head, and probably blushed yet again. She explained the essential oils she was putting in, an Asian tree flower called ylang ylang, which she had to spell for me, and which was the one that she claimed essentially turned her into a total cock slut, a bit of tangerine, and a hint of patchouli, all for Allison, and the ginger – which she reminded me was for what she called “my lingam”, whatever that is. I was pretty sure I knew, and avoided another embarrassing Q&A.

She helped me with candles for the bedroom, something with jasmine and more of the ylang ylang scent this time, and in about another five minutes and with my wallet some two hundred dollars lighter she got me out the door - but not before handing me a card that had her name, Ashley Moon, and the name of her partner, Nikki Love, and promised aromatherapy, tantric massage lessons, whole-body healing, and holistic sex therapy. And two phone numbers. And an email address and Facebook page. I pocketed it.

I raced home and rushed around, as excited as a kid on Christmas morning. I knew that Charlie was right, that I was doing this for me as much, if not more, than I was doing it for Alli, but it didn’t matter. I was very much looking forward to surprising her with a sexy, romantic evening. Ruby had accompanied Alli to the shelter, as she would most days, to help with frightened or injured new arrivals and to be a goodwill ambassador to potential adoptive parents, a job she was well-suited for, so I was alone.

I did a quick clean-up and pick-up of the bathroom and bedroom before scattering the candles in strategic locations around each room; I got out our best, biggest, fluffiest towels; I had the vanilla shampoo, body wash, and bubble bath lined up strategically on the side of the tub; I made sure I had a lighter for the candles at hand, and retrieved a very nice bottle of Pinot Noir from the basement, carrying two sparkling wine goblets and a corkscrew up with me. I placed them on the nightstand rather than in the bathroom, which would soon be getting very warm.

Even though it was November it was still over an hour ‘til sunset, but it sets on the other side of the house, so with all the shades drawn the rooms would be dark enough that the candles would look good, I thought. Waiting impatiently, I turned down the bed and fluffed our pillows, and found some smooth jazz on the radio. I was still fully dressed in my suit and tie as I waited.

I was ready when the phone rang, when Alli told me she was on her way and would be home in about ten minutes, and I rushed around lighting candles, started a hot bath running, and opened the wine. It was crazy, I knew, because Alli and I are an old married couple that knows each other inside and out, but I was a nervous as a kid on a first date, a cat in a room full of rocking chairs! I so much wanted everything to be wonderful for her, to make up for my idiocy.

I added a generous dollop of bubble bath to the running stream of hot water, and when I heard her car pull in I poured two glasses of wine. Ruby bounded in first, eager to say hello, and I loved and petted her until Alli came in. Her eyes widened as she looked around the room, taking in the candles, the turned down bed, and the wine in my hand – and my suit and tie. “Wow! What’s all this?” She took her glass of wine, and sipped it.

I smiled, and we kissed. “This? Oh, nothing, really. Just something to remind you how much I love you.”

Her eyes filled with tears, and I began to slowly undress her.