Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 KYLE'S WIFE

   By Ezra Zane

   Jill, my wife, and I attended the annual October formal of our dance
club on a Saturday night.  I was dressed in a standard tuxedo with a black
bow tie.  Jill wore a strapless, floor length forest-green sheath formal,
spilt up the left leg to mid thigh, and a long string of pearls wrapped
four times around her neck with the first loop tight against her throat and
the last cascading to nestle against her breasts.  Her blonde hair was in a
bun.  Her makeup was lightly applied with a hint of green eye shadow that
drew attention to her emerald green eyes.  Her lipstick was cherry red,
matching her nails.  Jill is five five, so her four inch heels brought her
to my shoulder.

   The dance was over at twelve thirty in the morning.  As Jill and I
visited with the crowd waiting for the parking valets to deliver our cars,
she bubbled with excitement, giving her a sensual glow.  When I eased my
Mercedes from the parking lot and onto the street, Jill said, "Kyle came on
to me again."

   "I watched you dancing with him.  It looked like he was making a hard
pass," I replied.

   "He was hard," she snickered.

   "Did you get it?"

   "Every word," she said proudly.  "Do you want to hear it now?"

   "Yes.  Put it in the cassette player."

   Jill opened her purse, popped the cassette in the player, and turned it
on.  I could hear myself, Jill, Kyle, and others, with a good deal of
background noise.  I heard Kyle ask Jill to dance and her acceptance.  They
made small talk as they worked their way to the dance floor.

   I watched them when they danced.  He'd pulled Jill close against him. 
She'd rested her midsection against his, but held her head back to look
into his eyes.  She gave him plenty of stimulation in the crouch area.

   "You're so beautiful tonight," Kyle said.

   "Thank you, Kyle," she replied.  Her voice dripped with sexiness.  "A
lady always loves a compliment from a sexy man."

   "Oh, you think I'm sexy?"

   "Umm.  You know I do."

   "Quit teasing me."

   "Why?  We're both enjoying it."

   "I'm not," he replied curtly.

   "Oh, I thought you were," she said.  Her musical voice was sensual
teasing.

   "I am, but..." he answered.  "Dammit it, Jill, what's it going to take
to get you in my bed?"

   "Why would you want me in your bed?" she asked in an innocent, little
girl voice.

   "I wish I'd gone to high school here.  I hear you were easy," he
snarled.

   "I was," she replied without rancor.  "I would've screwed you then." Her
voice dropped a whisper.  "Things are different now.  Now I'll screw you
only if you ask the right way."

   "How?" He was louder than he needed to be.  "Tell me how, dammit it."

   "Why should I?"

   "Because I can't stop thinking about you."

   "Even when you're with Emily?"

   He sighed.  "Sometimes."

   "Just sometimes?" she pouted.

   "A lot.  Shit, it seems lately like I think of you every time I fuck
her."

   "Knowing you think of me while you're with your wife makes me feel
special, Kyle.  Thank you for telling me."

   "That's how much I want you.  You know that, don't that?"

   "Yes, I know, but I'm Paul's wife.  I can tease and fantasize, but not
go any further...unless."

   "Unless what?" he asked urgently.  She didn't reply.  "What?" he
demanded.

   "Unless Paul tells me to screw you."

   Kyle gasped.  "You're kidding me?"

   "No.  If Paul tells me to have sex with you, I'll gladly do it."

   "Shit.  Maybe I should just rape you."

   Her voice was icy, her words clipped, when she replied, "I'm glad you
think I'm worth a prison term, Kyle, but I'm not.  If my teasing bothers
you that much, I'll stop it.  Maybe we shouldn't have any contact until you
cool down."

   "No.  No.  Don't do that," he begged.

   "Do you really want me that much?" she asked, as if she were honored by
his desires.

   "You know I do."

   "And now you know what to do to have me," she said with a lilt in her
voice.

   "Let's go outside," he pleaded.

   "No, Kyle.  I can feel your erection against my stomach.  I don't trust
you to get me alone in the dark," she teased.

   He laughed bitterly.  "I can't blame you there.  I don't think I trust
myself.  Let's have sex without Paul knowing," he said.  She didn't reply
and there was a long silence.  "Please, Jill," he whined.  I smiled knowing
how Jill despises a weak man.  "I'd do anything."

   "I don't believe you," she said, challenging him.

   "Yes, I would do anything."

   "You don't mean it because I told you what you have to do."

   "I can't do that," he said dejectedly.

   "Why not?" she asked.

   "Because he'll want Emily."

   "Of course he will.  He's wanted Emily since we were in high school.  If
you want me, you'll get Emily into his bed," she replied.  The music
stopped.  I remembered she leaned against him to whisper in his ear.  "I
want you, but Paul will have to tell me to do it.  He won't tell me to
screw you unless he has fucked Emily." She kissed him gently on the cheek
before she turned and walked away, leaving Kyle with his mouth hanging
open. I heard the recorder click off.

   "Beautifully done, Jilly.  Simply beautiful.  You played him like a
fiddle," I said to her.  She basked in my approval.  "Did you get anymore?"

   "No.  I made a concerted effort to stay away from him for the rest of
the evening.  How did you do with Emily?"

   "We danced three times.  The first two we made appropriate small talk
and she let me hold her closely.  The third time, she initiated our
closeness, and when she felt my cock poking into her belly, she didn't make
an effort to pull away."

   "I told you she wants you," Jill said triumphantly.  "She's a hard nut
to crack, that's all."

   "I'm surprised Kyle didn't ask about your corset," I said.

   "He did earlier.  He put his arm around me when we first saw them, and
asked at the first opportunity."

   "What did you tell him?"

   "That I liked the tight feel around me, like a man holding me to ready
me for intercourse."

   I laughed.  "I almost feel sorry for Kyle having a predator like you
after him."

   "Like me?  I'm only following my master's commands," she said sensually.
She pressed her hand over my throbbing and erect cock in my trousers. 
"Would my master like for me to suck his cock?" she teased.

   "When we get home, you'll do more than that."

   "I hope so.  My master makes me extremely horny," she murmured.

   Jill, Emily, and I went to high school together.  I was hard working,
poor, smart, athletic, popular, and sexually active.  Jill was filthy rich,
spoiled, envied, and promiscuous.  At the end of my junior year, I made
Jill exclusively mine and began training her as I wanted her.

   Her parents approved of our relationship and treated me like a son. 
Jill was a year behind me in school.  Her father paid for me to go to Yale,
withdrew her from our local high school, and sent her to a private school
in New Haven.  He paid for a large townhouse where Jill and I lived.  We
married after my freshman year in college.  Five years later, when we
returned to our hometown, I had B.A.  and J.D.  degrees, a golden financial
situation, and a wife perfect for me.

   Emily Wheaton was in Jill's class.  They were best friends, which proves
opposites do attract.  Emily was as attractive as Jill, but while Jill was
earthy and voluptuous, Emily was stately and classical.  And while Jill was
promiscuous until I took her in tow, Emily with the archetypical virgin
queen.

   When Jill and I returned from New Haven, Emily Wheaton was Mrs.  Kyle
Rogers.  They met in college.  Like me, Kyle was a ladies' man and he was
damn good at it.  He swept her off her feet, got her pregnant, and married
her, all within a period of ninety days.  After getting his bachelor's
degree, Kyle and Emily moved back to our hometown and he joined her
father's insurance agency, where he was a highly overpaid and undeserving
executive.

   From the moment Jill and I met Kyle Rogers neither of us liked him.  It
was a small town and Jill was Emily's best friend so we saw Emily and Kyle
frequently.  Our feelings about him only became stronger.

   One day, I was naked in my easy chair.  Jill, naked except for a collar
around her neck and leathers on her wrists, was in my lap.  Her mind had
been far away for some time.

   "I hate Kyle Rogers," she said.  I didn't respond.  About three minutes
passed before she spoke again.  "And I love Emily."

   "Ah, there's the rub," I thought.  Jill and Emily did love each other
like sisters, and, like sisters, that love was sometimes jealousy or envy
or hate.  I wondered sometimes if Jill's love of Emily had sexual overtones
even she didn't recognize.

   I'd call Jill passively bisexual.  She didn't seek out other women, but
she enjoyed it when I told her to make love to one.  During my senior year
at Yale, another woman, Cassie, lived with us and shared our bed.  Jill and
Cassie had sex often.  I'd brought other women into our lives for our
mutual pleasure.

   When I didn't reply to her comment, Jill said, "Did you hear me?"

   "Yes, I did.  I hate Kyle, too."

   "And you love Emily, or you maybe you just want to fuck her," she said
with a smirk.

   "Both," I replied.

   "I'm sick of Kyle.  Of the way he treats her.  Of his coming on to me
all the time.  Of his snotty, oily attitude." She slipped off my lap, went
into the kitchen, and soon returned with a soda for both of us.  "I want
him out of our lives and out of this town," she said emphatically.  She
leered at me.  "And I have a plan."

   That's how it began.  Jill began to act warmer toward Kyle, gently
teasing him when he made a pass at her.  Only a month later, at the dance,
she recorded their conversation and played it for me.

   When we returned to the house after the October formal, I engaged the
burglar alarm and accompanied Jill to our bedroom.  She had a delightful
smirk, a knowing, devilish gleam in her eyes, and a bounce in her walk.

   "Come here, sexy," I said.

   She squirmed into my arms to be kissed, which I happily did.  She turned
around to let me unzip her strapless evening gown and start untying her
corset.  Jill owned many corsets.  Most, like this one, were to enhance her
figure when we were in public.  A few were bondage devices of varying
degrees of severity.

   The corset had an additional purpose that night-to hide the recording
device.  The microphone was hidden between her breasts, with a wire running
to the cassette between her legs.  She controlled it with a remote in her
purse, but she had to go to the restroom to change the tape.  As I removed
the corset, I checked the cassette.  A new tape was in it.  I tossed the
corset aside and Jill scratched furiously where it had pressed into her
skin.

   "Anything interesting?" I asked, holding it up.

   "Not unless you want to hear Charlene Withers talk about how she's
fucking her black yardman," Jill replied.

   "No, thanks.  Charlene fucks anything with a cock," I said.

   "Or unless you want to hear Emily talking about Kyle." Jill was
quivering with glee.

   "You little witch," I exclaimed.  "Why didn't you tell me?"

   "I wanted to surprise you.  Can I put it on for you?"

   "I'd love it," I said as I handed her the tape.  "I'll get us a glass of
wine."

   Jill was naked on the bed when I returned from the kitchen.  After I lay
down by her, she put the player on my legs and turned it on.  For six or
seven minutes, they made small talk, but the stress in Emily's voice was
evident.  Finally, Emily got around to the cause of her anxiety.

   "Jill, have you ever wondered if Paul was cheating on you?"

   "Never," responded Jill emphatically.

   "Have you ever cheated on him?" Emily asked.  The question stuck in her
throat.

   "I never have and I never will," Jill said firmly.

   "Oh," Emily replied.

   "Do you think Kyle is cheating on you?" Jill asked.

   "Well," Emily said.

   Jill pushed the stop button.  "We went to a more private spot.  When we
got there, I took her hands in mine and made her look at me." She pushed
the play button and her voice came over the speaker.  "Listen, Emily.  All
men play around."

   "You said Paul didn't," Emily countered.

   "I said he didn't cheat on me.  It's not cheating if he tells me about
it."

   "He's had other women and you don't mind?" Emily gasped.

   "No, I don't.  I know he'll never leave me."

   "I don't have that feeling about Kyle.  I'm almost sure he's having an
affair with a woman at the office."

   Jill pushed the stop button again.  "You should have seen her face,
Paul. She looked at me in a most accusing way." She pushed the play button.

   "And I know a woman in our group that he's trying to seduce," Emily
continued.

   "Who?" Jill asked.

   "You know who," Emily accused.

   "Do you mean me?" Jill asked.  Emily didn't reply.  "I'm not having an
affair with Kyle," Jill said firmly, but sympathetically.

   "I want to believe you," Emily whispered.  "But a woman knows these
things."

   "Then you know I am not having an affair with your husband," Jill
replied.

   "But he wants you," Emily sobbed.

   Emily cried and Jill comforted her before Jill turned off the recorder.
"That's all except her tears.  She did make one more statement just before
we parted.  She said if Kyle did cheat on her, she'd 'get even with the
bastard.'"

   "Good work, baby," I said.  "Now come here."

   Jill was proud of her body.  She was blessed with a beautiful face,
blonde hair, and blue eyes like her mother.  She and I were both health
nuts, exercising long and hard to maintain good physiques.  The only place
she wasn't blessed was in her breasts.  Like her mother, a plastic surgeon
grew those to a D-cup that wouldn't sag.

   She loved sex with me in all its aspects.  She particularly enjoyed her
submission and the attendant bondage.  When she flopped back beside me that
night, she spread her arms.

   "Does sexy little Jill want to be bound?" I teased.

   "I want to please you," she whispered.  "I know how you love to tie me
up."

   As I bound her wrists to the headboard, she squirmed with delight.  She
comes quickly and often, many times enjoying multiple orgasms, until she's
a mass of sweaty, red, and satiated flesh.  But she was especially eager
that night.  The thrill of the chase stimulated her as it did me.

   Kyle called at ten the next morning.  Jill hit the record function on
the phone.  "Hello," she said.  I didn't say a word until the conversation
was over and she disconnected.

   "Play it back for me," I ordered.

   "Hello," she had said.

   "Jill.  It's Kyle.  Can you talk?"

   "Of course, Kyle.  How are you this morning?"

   "I couldn't sleep thinking about you."

   "That's silly, Kyle.  I told you what you needed to do to have me.  Ask
Paul.  That's all."

   "It isn't all and you know it.  I have to deliver Emily to him."

   "That shouldn't be a problem for you," she said.

   "Why not?"

   "Any real stud should have his wife trained to do whatever he tells her
to do.  I know Paul has me trained like that."

   "Emily's not like you," Kyle said angrily.

   "Kyle, control yourself," Jill snapped.

   "Sorry," he muttered.

   "When you were playing golf a few days ago, Paul said you told him a man
should control his wife.  Isn't sex part of the control?"

   "Yes, but.  Shit." Jill waited him out.  He said, "Does Paul know about
us?"

   "He knows.  I tell him everything, Kyle."

   "Oh, Jesus in heaven."

   "Relax.  He's not upset."

   "He's not?"

   "Of course not.  He's no fool.  He knows you've got the hots for me."

   "Ask him if he wants Emily.  Maybe he just wants to watch you and me
have sex.  Some guys are like that, you know."

   "I do know and he does like to watch when I do it with another woman."
Kyle groaned gutturally, like he'd been kicked in the balls.  "Anyway,
Kyle, if you want me, you're going to have to be man enough to ask him
yourself."

   "Shit.  Shit.  Shit.  Shit!"

   "What's wrong, Kyle?"

   "Nothing.  Is he there?"

   "Yes, he is.  Do you want to speak to him?"

   "No.  Not now.  I'll call back."

   "I'll tell him to expect your call, Kyle.  Goodbye," Jill said coolly.
She silently disconnected.

   "Well done," I said.

   "Thank you, baby," she replied.  She was grinning from ear-to-ear.  She
had done a good job, too.  An excellent job.  Kyle would call back.  In
fifteen minutes, he proved me right.

   I turned on the recorder and answered this time.

   "Paul?" he said.

   "Hi, Kyle," I said heartedly.  "How are you?"

   "Good.  Good.  Say I'd like to talk to you."

   "What about?"

   I thought he wasn't going to be able to get it out.  Finally, he gasped,
"Jill."

   "What about Jill?"

   "I want her."

   "That's what she said.  Come over here and we can discuss it
face-to-face."

   "When?"

   "We'll be home all day."

   "I told Emily I had to go to the office at two."

   "We'll see you a little after two, Kyle," I said.

   I like electronic gadgets.  We have the latest in surveillance
equipment, including the audio recorders on the phone and the wire Jill
used at the party.  We also have audio and video equipment in the living
room, kitchen, bedroom, playroom, and hot tub.  I enjoy recording Jill and
me fucking.  This time I was going to record our conversation with Kyle.

   When Kyle arrived about two, he was a step away from a nervous
breakdown. Jill was dressed as I told her to be-a wraparound skirt that
barely covered her pussy and halter top.  That's it.  No shoes, stockings,
or panties.  Her long hair was up on her head, ready to drop when she
pulled the pin.  I wore a polo shirt, shorts, and was barefoot.  I rarely
wear underwear and today was no exception.

   "Hi, Kyle.  Come on in.  Would you like a drink?"

   "Yes.  No.  No.  I'm supposed to be at the office."

   "Kyle," Jill exclaimed as she swooped into the hall.  Acting happy and
eager, she made a beeline for him, but I stepped between them.

   "Not yet.  I haven't agreed to anything.  Let's go sit in the living
room," I said.

   Kyle was sweating and hyper as he followed Jill's swaying ass into the
living room.  Jill showed him where to sit, which was on the couch because
the camera was focused on his position.  I sat on a chair opposite and Jill
curled up at my feet.  The camera could see part of us and the sound
equipment would clearly record our voices.  When I stroked her hair, she
closed her eyes and pushed back against my hand.  Kyle looked like he
couldn't believe it.

   "So Kyle," I said.  "Let's talk about what you want." He watched us
bug-eyed and open-mouthed.  "Kyle?"

   "I want Jill," he gasped.

   "Forever?" I asked.

   "Yes."

   "You'd divorce Emily for her?"

   "Yes.  Oh, shit, Paul, I don't know." Jill and I waited patiently.  "I
want to fuck Jill so badly I can't think of anything else."

   I was ecstatic, but I didn't show it.  That admission would cost Kyle
dearly.  "Jill is mine, Kyle.  I will never divorce her.  I will never,
under any circumstances, let her belong to any man but me.  Let me repeat
what I said.  Jill is mine.  Forever.  Do you understand?"

   "Yes, but..."

   "Do you have anything to say, Jill?" I asked.

   "Kyle, I'd never leave Paul.  Not for you.  Not for anyone."

   Kyle nodded.  Jill and I didn't speak.  We let Kyle's emotions build
like a kettle under too much pressure.  Finally, he exploded in a string of
gibberish cursing, leaving him depleted and sheepish looking.  "I want
Jill. What do I have to do?"

   "Put yourself in my shoes, Kyle," I said.  "You want to fuck my wife. 
So what?  A lot of men want her because she's a sexy woman.  Why should I
let you?"

   "Because I have a wife you want."

   "Yes, I do.  She's the only woman in this town besides Jill I want." I
waited and Kyle's eyes flitted between my face and Jill's breasts.  "What
are you suggesting?  A trade?"

   "Yes.  A trade.  I'll swap you Emily for Jill," Kyle said.  He scooted
forward to the edge of the couch and his face was eager.  "Wife swapping.
Emily for Jill."

   "I can deliver Jill.  Can you deliver Emily?" I asked.

   "Yes," he lied.

   "Good.  We can swap this afternoon.  Jill, go call her and ask her to
come over."

   Jill rose.  "No.  Wait," Kyle called out.  "Don't call her." Jill
stopped and stared at him.  "She won't do it.  She won't.  Emily is frigid
as ice.  Oh, shit.  She doesn't even enjoy me.  It's driving me nuts." He
was deflated, with his shoulders slumped and his head down.  I looked at my
wife.  He disgusted her.  I motioned Jill to sit by me and we waited for
Kyle to look at us again.

   "What do you suggest, Kyle?" I said quietly.

   "I don't know.  I wish I did because I'd swap Emily in a heartbeat."

   "For anyone?" Jill asked.

   "For you, Jill," he said passionately.

   "Anyone else?" I asked.

   "Sure," he said with a grin.  "But it's Jill I want now."

   "Why don't you and Emily join The Rose Club?" I asked.

   Kyle snorted.  "Emily would never do that."

   I didn't blame Emily.  The Rose Club was a wife-sharing group.  Although
everyone in town had heard the rumor the club existed, membership was a
sacred secret.  Fortunately, my father-in-law's secretary was membership
chairman and gave him all the news, which he kindly passed on to me.  A
club didn't appeal to me.  And I didn't lie.  Emily was the only woman I'd
swap for Jill.

   "I have an idea," Jill said.

   "What?" Kyle asked.

   "Why don't you let Paul seduce her, Kyle?"

   "I don't think he can," Kyle replied.

   "Let's give him a chance," Jill said.

   "What do you suggest?" Kyle asked.

   "I'll seduce her," I said.  "You'll have to help by ignoring all the
signs she'll leave, by not asking questions if she's gone for a while or
suddenly has nights out with the girls, and if it comes up, by saying you
wouldn't mind if she had an affair.  You have to handle it delicately
because she'll be skittish."

   "All right," he said.

   "Have you ever seduced a woman?" I asked.

   "Of course.  There's a woman at the office who I..." He turned beet red
and stopped.

   "Sandra Carson?" I asked and he nodded.  "I heard you were fucking her.
Is she good?"

   "Better than Emily," Kyle replied arrogantly.

   "Is Sandra as good as Evelyn Sims?" I asked, naming another woman
rumored to have given way to Kyle's brutish approach.

   Kyle's face was arrogant when he said, "Sandra's better than Evelyn. 
She's a hot little pussy who purrs when I stroke her.  Maybe I should trade
Jill for her.  She'd do it for me."

   "No, thanks," I said.  "Since you've had affairs, you know that a woman
considering one is tricky to handle." He nodded.  "Probably the best way
for you to handle it is to ignore all the signs, but I'll leave that to
you."

   "And if you're unsuccessful?" he asked.

   "Then you can't have Jill."

   "All right.  I'll do it," he said.  "I'll help you seduce my wife anyway
I can."

   We shook hands like men and walked toward the door.  The videotape ended
there because we were out of the room.  I unfastened Jill's halter, tossed
it aside, and covered her breasts with my hands as I pulled her back
against me.  Jill's breasts were large, with large nipples and areolas
whose relative size to her augmented breast looked natural.  Kyle's mouth
hung open as he stared at them.

   I tugged on the tiny gold rings in Jill's nipples, and slipped my hands
down her sides, letting him see her perfect mounds in all their glory.  She
moaned, squirmed, and arched her back, raising her breasts toward Kyle. 
When he reached for them, I covered her breasts.  His fingers quivered and
his unblinking eyes never looked away from them.

   "Let's make this work, Kyle," I said.

   Kyle nodded and stumbled toward his car.  After I shut the door, Jill
squealed as she spun to face me.  "God, that went perfectly," she
exclaimed. "I couldn't have written a better script."

   "Time to plan phase two," I said.

   "Later.  I want to be fucked," she demanded.

   "Did thinking about fucking Kyle make you hot?" I teased.

   "Thinking about fucking up his mind and his marriage made me hot," she
replied.  Jill grabbed my crotch.  "Nice and hard, just like I like him,"
she said with a grin.  "I'll race you for the bedroom."

   We heard a car pull into the driveway.  I looked through the door's peep
hole.  "It's Emily," I said.

   "Really?" Jill asked, as she pushed me aside to see for herself.  "She's
just sitting there."

   "Go put on a bra and loose shirt," I said.  "Hurry."

   "Panties, too?" she asked as she ran for the bedroom.

   "Yes," I called after her.

   I watched Emily through the peephole.  She was obviously distraught.  I
was still watching when Jill returned.  "What's she doing?" she asked.

   "Just sitting there," I replied.

   "Should I ask her in?"

   "No.  Let's see what see does."

   Twenty minutes later, Emily started her car and drove away.  Jill and I
went to the bedroom for our fun.  At nine that night, Jill and I were
propped up on the pillows in bed watching a movie when the phone rang.

   "Paul.  This is Emily." She sounded distraught.

   "What's wrong?" I asked.

   "I'd like to talk to you."

   "All right.  Do you want to come over now?"

   "I can't.  Can we meet in the morning?"

   "What time?" I asked.

   "Eight thirty?"

   "I look forward to seeing you," I said.

   The next morning, I dressed for the office, meaning a suit and tie. 
Jill wore a modest dress.  Most of her clothes are modest, including bras
that hide her bounty.  She only shows off when I tell her to do it.

   Emily looked exhausted when she arrived.  Exhausted but determined.  She
gave Jill a curt "hello" and asked to speak to me alone.

   "There's nothing we can't discuss in front of Jill," I said.  I guided
us to the living room where Emily perched on the easy chair and Jill and I
sat on the couch.

   "Jill and Kyle are having an affair," Emily said.

   There are a thousand ways she could have said it.  Even using the same
words, her tone, facial expression, and body language could have made each
way different.  Considering her heightened anxiety, her voice was
surprisingly calm.  She showed little hostility toward Jill, even though
considerable hostility would be expected from a "wronged" wife in the
presence of the woman she accused.  She made a statement but her face asked
a question.

   "I know for a fact they are not having an affair," I said, emphasizing
the "not."

   "He was over here yesterday afternoon," she said.

   "So was I," I replied.

   "Kyle told me he plays golf with you most Sunday afternoons."

   "I play on Saturday morning.  I rarely play on Sunday," I replied.

   She digested that, perhaps thinking of all the Sundays he disappeared
with golf as his excuse.

   "Why was he here?" she asked.

   "Look, Emily, why don't we talk about something else?" Jill said in a
gentle tone.

   "I want to know why he was here," Emily said forcefully.

   "Kyle wants to have sex with Jill.  He offered to let me have sex with
you as a trade," I said without emotion.

   Emily was catatonic, moving not so much as an eyelash.  Finally, her
mouth slowly opened.  "My husband offered to let you have sex with me if he
could have sex with Jill?" she asked in a dead monotone.

   "That's right," I said.

   "Wife swap?"

   "That's right," I said again.

   "I don't believe you," she replied, but her tone said she did believe
me.

   "Yes, you do, Emily," Jill said.

   "You're my best friend and you want to sleep with my husband," Emily
accused.

   "No, I don't," Jill replied.

   "Yes, you do.  You're a slut!" Emily shouted out the last word.  She
jumped to her feet.  "I don't believe any of this.  It's a cruel game to
get my husband in your bed."

   Tears rolled down Jill's face as she stared up at her friend.  Emily
looked down.  Her hands were clenched.  She took one step toward the door,
stepped back, and sat down.  She stared at Jill who fought back her tears.

   "You are a slut.  You always have been," she said.  "You know that,
Jilly.  You even told me that yourself."

   "I know," Jill whispered, wiping her eyes.

   "But you've always been my best friend."

   "I still am."

   "And you've never lied to me."

   "I'm not lying now," Jill said.

   Their voices had been intense, with a quiet, mind-opening, gut-wrenching
honesty.

   "What's going on?" Emily asked, looking at me.

   "Ask Jill," I said.

   "Jill?"

   "Do you remember nine months ago when your parents gave a pool party? 
That's the day we met Kyle."

   "I remember," Emily replied.

   "Kyle trapped me in the bathroom and grabbed my breasts.  I slapped him
and shoved him away.  That stopped him for then, but he's hit on me
countless times since."

   "Why haven't you done something about it?" she asked, glaring at me.

   "I have.  I've talked to Kyle several times.  I've talked to Jerry, both
alone and with Sam present," I said.  Sam is Jill's father and Jerry is
Emily's father.  They go way back and are close friends.  "I suggested to
Sam that we move all our business from your dad's agency, but he's not
ready to do that.  Since I don't want to go to prison for beating the shit
out of Kyle, my choices of action are limited."

   "I'm sick of Kyle, Emily," Jill hissed.  "I'm sick to my stomach of the
supercilious bastard.  I'll tell you how bad it is.  I'm ready to end our
friendship because of him.  As much as I love you and as much as you mean
to me, I'd rather not see you than have to see him."

   I said, "Jill conceived a plan.  She led Kyle on.  We recorded some of
their conversations and videotaped him when he was here Sunday.  He
confessed adultery and pleaded to wife swap you for Jill.  If you like,
I'll play it for you."

   The leaden silence extended as Emily studied both of us and thought
about the situation.  Jill and I waited.

   "Why are you telling me all this?" Emily asked.

   "I want you to know what's going on.  I can't stand him any more," Jill
replied.

   "And that's the only reason?" Emily asked.

   "It's my only reason," Jill said.

   "Do you have any other reasons?" she asked, looking at me.

   There is a time to lie and a time to be honest.  One reason Jill and
Emily developed such a close bond was they didn't lie to each other.  Jill
watched me and sent me a signal.

   "I have another reason," I said.  "You know what it is."

   "Say it," she demanded.

   "I want to go to bed with you," I replied.

   "No, you don't," she snapped, interrupting me.  "You could have had me
the night of Jim Bob's sixteenth birthday party and you didn't."

   "You were drunk and I don't take advantage of a drunk woman."

   "That's not what Patty Phillips said.  Or Merry Deal."

   "They both were sober and they both wanted to fuck.  Saying they were
drunk gave them an excuse to act like they wanted to act.  If they need an
excuse to have sex, that's fine with me."

   "But you want me?"

   "Yes, I do."

   "If I say yes now, what would you do?"

   "Take you into the bedroom and make wild, mad love to you."

   "Did you hear that?" Emily asked Jill, but her tone wasn't triumphant.
It was almost sympathetic.

   "I heard," Jill said softly.

   "That's all right with you?"

   "Yes.  I told you that Paul can have sex with other people.  I meant
that."

   "I don't believe you."

   "Let's go in the bedroom now.  I'll undress Paul and suck his cock until
it's nice and hard for you.  Then I'll watch as you two fuck," Jill said.
Her eyes were twinkling softly, but she was serious, without a doubt.

   "Kyle wants to join the Rose Club.  Do you belong?" Emily asked.

   "No, we don't," I answered.  "There's only one woman in this town
besides Jill that I want."

   "Me?"

   "You."

   "And you wouldn't mind if I had sex with your husband?" Emily asked.

   "No, I wouldn't," Jill replied.  "In fact, I suggest you do it.  He's a
marvelous lover."

   "May I have a Coke?" Emily asked.

   "I'll get it," Jill said, jumping up.  "Do you want something, honey?"

   "I'll have a Coke, please," I said.

   Emily and I didn't speak while Jill was gone.  We hardly moved.  When
Jill returned with a soft drink for each of us, Emily said, "I'd like to
see the tape, please." We traded places with Emily sitting by Jill on the
couch, with one at each end.  I sat in a chair to one side so I could watch
Emily's face.  I'd seen the tape.

   Emily turned red and silent tears fell when Kyle said he'd divorce her.
When Kyle's revelations of adultery appeared, the tears stopped, she made a
noise like air being released from a balloon, and turned another shade of
red.  When Kyle said Sandra was a better lover, Emily looked like ice. 
When it was over, she said coldly, "Play it again, Paul." I did.  We all
watched in silence.  Emily memorized every nuance of her husband's
behavior.

   When the tape finished, I turned up the lights.  Nobody spoke for a
little over three minutes.  Emily stood and said to Jill, "I need some time
alone.  I need to think."

   "Are you going to be all right?" Jill asked solicitously.

   "I think so," Emily replied wanly.

   We escorted her to the door and watched her slowly drive away.

   "Well?" I asked Jill.

   "She'll call before the day's over," Jill replied.

   But Emily didn't call that day.  When Jill called her, Emily said she
couldn't talk.  And Emily didn't call the next day.  She called me at the
office about one on Thursday afternoon to ask for a meeting with Jill and
me.  We arranged to meet that day at two.

   Emily and Jill were unalike in almost every way.  Jill was five five,
green-eyed, with dyed blonde hair.  Her figure could grace a men's
magazine. Her face was round with a wide mouth bordered by dimples.  Emily
was five seven, with dark brown hair and eyes, a model's figure, impossibly
long legs, and tiny breasts.  Her heart shaped face had a small, straight
nose and small mouth.

   The biggest difference was in their personalities.  Emily was
extraverted and happy, with an open sexuality.  Emily was right.  Jill was
a slut and had been since she discovered boys.  But now I had the key to
Jill's sexuality and we both loved it that way.  Emily was introverted,
shy, and naive.  She kept her sexuality under strict lock and key.  In high
school, some of the guys said she didn't have any sexuality.  I knew
better.

   Emily pulled into my driveway immediately ahead of me.  She wore a plain
blouse and slacks.  I escorted her into the house where Jill, dressed in a
modest cotton dress, was waiting for us.  We sat in the living room, with
Jill and me on the couch and Emily in the chair opposite.

   "Did you mean everything you said Monday?" Emily asked.

   "Yes, I did," Jill replied.

   "If I have an affair with Paul, you don't mind?"

   "No, I don't."

   "It won't change anything between us?"

   "I can't say that, Em.  You'll change and that will change our
relationship.  That's not necessarily bad.  I'll still be your best friend,
if you want me," Jill replied caringly.

   "I envy you," Emily said.  There was no resentment in her tone.  "I envy
your enjoyment of sex.  Men flitting around you.  The way you tease them
and lead them on." She sighed.  "I tried to seduce my own husband Monday
night when we got home.  I guess I was successful because he screwed me,
but I don't think he enjoyed it.  I know I didn't.  Tuesday night, I
suggested we make love again.  He acted like it bothered him that I wanted
it and he turned me down."

   I knew Kyle spent Tuesday afternoons with Sandra, but I didn't say it.

   "Do you masturbate?" Emily asked Jill.

   "Yes, I do.  Not as much since Paul's in my life, but sometimes."

   "I don't do it much any more.  I enjoyed it more than I enjoyed Kyle and
that made me feel guilty somehow." She blushed.  She focused on me.  "Kyle
said I'm frigid.  You're an attractive and successful ladies' man, Paul. 
Do you think I'm frigid?"

   "No."

   "I don't think I am either," she said.  For the first time, I saw a
twinkle in her eyes and a tiny smile on her lips.  "I masturbated yesterday
for the first time in a long time.  I had a hell of an orgasm.  It felt so
good, I gave myself another."

   "I wish I had been there," I said, returning her smile.

   "I wish you were there, too," she replied.  She looked at Jill.  "You
don't want my husband?"

   "I do not.  I don't even want to see him again," Jill answered
emphatically.

   Emily nodded and looked back at me.  "Do you play golf with Kyle on
Saturday mornings or is he telling me that so he can sneak off with one of
his girlfriends?"

   "I play golf every Saturday morning.  Sometimes, Kyle is in my foursome
and sometimes I see him playing with another foursome," I replied.

   "Do you ever sneak off with another woman?" she asked me, but Jill
replied.

   "That's not the way we are.  If he was going to have sex with some one,
he'd say, 'Honey, I'm going to go screw so-and-so.  I'll be back in a few
hours.'"

   "I find that so hard to believe," Emily said.

   Jill bounced up, extended her hand to Emily, and said, "Come on."

   Emily took her hand and stood.  "Where are we going?"

   "Into the bedroom so Paul and you can screw while I watch," Jill
replied.

   Emily jerked her hand away and sat back down in the chair.  "No," she
said.

   Jill wiggled her fingers in a come-on gesture.  "You're not going to
believe me until you do, so come on."

   "I believe you," Emily replied.  Her hands were tightly clasped in her
lap.

   "Chicken," Jill said as she plopped on the couch.

   "Am not," Emily said.

   "Am too," Jill teased.

   They both giggled, but quickly Emily was serious again.  Again, we were
silent as she thought.  I guessed she had finalized her strategy before she
came over and was thinking it through one last time.

   "My marriage as I have lived it is over," she said.  "Kyle, Dad, and I
have had a few long, hard meetings.  Kyle and I will stay married under
these conditions.  He can continue his affairs, but he cannot, under any
circumstances, have an affair with you, Jill, and he cannot even approach
you.  If he does, he's gone."

   "Thank you," Jill said earnestly.  "I'll be a relief not to worry about
him."

   "I can have affairs, too, and he can't say a damn thing about them.  Not
a single word.  In a year, we'll reevaluate our marriage and decide if we
stay together.  In the mean time, Kyle's interest in Dad's business is
being put in trust for the children and me."

   Emily stopped and stared at me before turning to Jill and saying
intently, "For the last time, you don't mind if I have an affair with your
husband?"

   "No, I don't," Jill replied.

   Emily spoke to me.  "I don't want to have affairs because that's plural.
I only want one affair.  With you.  But I want it a lot," she said.

   "I want you, too, so that works out nicely," I said.

   Emily looked at Jill again.  "I want to be like you," she said.

   "How?" Jill asked.

   "Happy, sexy, in love with life."

   "But what am I?" Jill said.  Emily looked confused.  "You know," Jill
continued.  "You called me one."

   "A slut," Emily said blushing.  "But I didn't mean anything bad by it."

   "Em, I'm happy being a slut.  My husband is happy with me that way.  But
my lifestyle isn't for everyone.  It might not be for you."

   "I don't want to be a slut, but I do want to have an affair with Paul. I
want him to do with me and for me and to me everything he's done with you."

   "You don't what you're asking, Em," Jill said.

   "No, I don't know, but I want to know," Emily replied.

   "He's always demanding and sometimes he's rough," Jill said.

   "But you enjoy him."

   "Always," Jill said and she smiled at me.

   "You want me to do with you everything I do with Jill?" I asked.

   "Yes," she replied.

   "You can't be my wife, so you want to be my fuck toy?"

   "Yes," she answered but the word stuck in her throat.

   "Say what I said."

   "I want to be your fuck toy," she repeated, although "fuck" was garbled
as if she'd never said the word.

   "I don't believe you," I said.  "Jill follows every command I give her.
Will you do that?"

   "Yes," Emily replied assuredly.

   "All right.  Stand on one foot."

   "What?" Emily asked.

   "Stand on one foot," I repeated.

   Cautiously, Emily rose.  She blushed when she stood on one foot, as if
it were the most embarrassing thing she'd ever done.  I carried her through
a series of simple commands-touch your nose, hop on one foot, sing Jingle
Bells, waddle like a duck, do the chicken dance.  She giggled and blushed
but she did them.  We three laughed as she performed.

   "Ready for something more difficult?" I asked.

   Emily's eyes cut to Jill.  She swallowed hard and said, "I think so."

   "You need to be more definite, Em," Jill said quietly.

   It took her a long time, it seemed, before she said, "I'm ready, Paul."

   I stood.  Reflexively, she stepped away.  When I took another small step
toward her, she trembled but remained in place.  I was about two feet away
from her.

   "I'm going to give you a series of orders.  Follow them one by one."

   "All right," Emily said.

   "If you follow them all, you will remove your clothes here, walk naked
into my bedroom, and lie down.  We will fuck.  I noticed that's a word you
have trouble getting out.  Say it again for me."

   "Fuck," Emily murmured.

   "Ready to begin?"

   Her eyes cut to Jill, who was watching silently, and they were clear and
firm when she focused on me again.  "Yes, I am," Emily said.

   "Undo the next button on your blouse," I said.



   The End