Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 "god, I want him!" she said, pressing her thighs together.  We were in a
restaurant having dinner with the drummer in my band.  We had been playing
together for a few years, but this was the first time my wife had met him,
because I tend to keep the two parts of my life seperate, music and
writing, and my wife was definitely on the writing side of that equation.

   Charles had gone to the men's room.

   I was not surprised that she wanted him, she had been fantacising about
black men for ten years, nor was I surprised that she was telling me about
it, as we shared everything, What was surprising was that she was sitting
in a crowded restaraunt, blushing furiously while telling me.  And looking
like she was about to come.  Maybe she already had.

   "Yeah, well, you can't have him, he is my drummer.  Good way to fuck up
the band, let my drummer sleep with my wife."

   She looked at me.  We had never seriously considered taking other
partners before, but we had kidded and joked, and in bed we had fantacised
and role-played, but that was it.  SO I nearly fell off my chair when she
said "Please?" with that same look she gets when she wants to buy something
we can't afford.

   I looked at her, into her eyes.  "You are serious?"

   If I thought she couldnt't have blushed any more, I was surprised,
because when she said "yes" in a small voice, she turned so red I thought
she was going to pass out.  I actually heard a small moan after she said
it.

   "Did you just come?"

   She breathed a deep sigh, closed her eyes and moaned again, and then
nodded.

   I was silent for a few more moments, then shook my head slowly

   "baby, I KNOW the type of woman Charles goes for, and you arent it.  I
am sorry.  If I thought ..."

   She looked at me grinning broadly.  "But he doesn't know me!  So he
doesn't know what I am like.  So I can be whatever --"

   I cut her off, because Charles was returning.

   She hardly said anything for the rest of the evening, and when we got
home, she attacked me before i had my jacket off.  She was wild, ferocious.



   After we had done it on the living room floor, in the stairwell, in the
master bedroom and on the veranda, we talked.

   "Is it because I am white?" she asked.

   I laughed almost hysterically.

   "No, it isn't because you are white, baby.  White women, black women,
yellow women.  Big women, small women.  Hell, when we played at Mardi Gras
last year, he had two GREEN women.  They glittered, too.  He said they were
sisters."

   "Then what's wrong with me?  Too old?  Too ugly?" She was 35, and quite
beatiful.  Charles was in his late fourties, and dated mostly women about
his age.

   "Too shy." I said, honestly.  "and he knows it.  I talk about you a lot,
you know.  I LIKE the fact that you are shy, that you blush, that you get
embarassed.  Blushing women turn me on."

   She blushed.  "But what turns Charles on?"

   I looked at her.  "Women who like to do the things you don't like to do"
I said, and immediately regretted it, because it was clear I had hurt her
feelings.

   We didn't talk about it again for quite some time.  About six months. 
Then Charles had a fire at his apartment, and I told him he could come stay
with us until stuff got squared away.  He agreed.

   I had done a great deal of thinking, and I decided that if I could make
it happen for her, I would.  The only question was how, and I thought I
could answer that.

   After our gig the night he was supposed to start sleeping in our guest
room, I called home and told my wife "Don't go to sleep.  Turn the intercom
on in the livingroom, and the bedroom.  Listen carefully to what goes on.
If you still want him, tell me so the first time I come upstairs."

   "What?" she asked, breathlessly.  I could almost HEAR the blush in her
voice.

   "You heard me.  Still want him?"

   All I heard was a low, shy, embarassed moan.  I got hard immediately.

   We came in, and stored our gear, and set Charles' stuff in his room. 
Walking past it, I saw that the intercom really was on, and we sat down, me
in the big black recliner I liked, and he sprawled over the couch.  Charles
is an enormous man, standing six feet seven inches.  He was a drummer, and
had drummers arms, large and very well muscled.  THe rest of him was in
pretty good shape, too.  He wasnt a bodybuilder, but he was taking good
care of himself.

   I got us a few beers and we settled back to relax, and shoot the shit
for a while.  Finally I sighed and said "well, I gotta turn in.  Wish me
luck." I said, then sighed and started to get up.

   "You need luck to get to sleep?" he said, smirking.

   "Tonight I do, yeah." I replied.

   "What the hell are you talking about, man?" he asked.

   I sat back down.  "It is Julie.  She is.."

   "That time of the month, huh?" he said, with a commiserating sigh.

   "Not exactly." I said, then sighed.  "Most women have one 'time of the
month'." I started, acting like I was reluctantly telling him.  "Julie has
two.  She has the B-days and the S-days." I stopped, trying to look like I
was trying to find the words.  "B is for bitch, of course.  S is for Slut"
I said, finally.

   He leaned forward.  "What?"

   "I figure it must be when she is ovulating or something, because it is
regular like clockwork, but for two days every month she turns into a
complete slut.  I mean, man, she HAS to have it, and have it, and have it.
Jesus, in the two hours before the gig tonight, she must have come eight or
nine times.  That's why I was so tired.  I bet she has been up there
playing with herself for the last four hours, waiting for me to get home to
give her some more."

   "And you are complaining?" He said, grinning.  "She is georgous, go get
her!  Don't let me hold you back."

   "I gotta rest some more, man.  it is draining as hell" I said, and sat
back down.

   He was still leaning forward, like he wanted me to continue.  When I
didn't, he prodded me, saying "How long has this been going on?"

   "Ever since we got married.  23 days she is miss prim-and-proper, 3 days
she is a psycho bitch, 2 days she is a porn queen.  It took us forever to
get used to it, you know?  I mean, she would do shit those two days, and
then be ashamed of what she had done for a while, and then threaten to
leave me if I ever asked her to do any of that stuff again, then back to
being ashamed, then start all over again."

   "Sounds complicated.  Now what I need is someone like that I can borrow
for the two days, and then give back for the rest of the month.  Wait a
minute, I guess I need 14 of them, and the timing needs to be right...." he
said, and we both laughed.

   We sat for a while, silently, while I tried to look like I was trying to
get up the strength.  Then, he said "You are bullshitting me, man.  I have
never heard of anything like that before"

   "No, man, it is the god's honest truth"

   "sure it is." he said dismissively, and then "Why would she be ashamed?"

   "If you knew the things she did, you'd understand."

   "So tell me, already"

   I smiled to myself, and started to lie my ass off.  If Julie wanted him,
I was going to make her work for it.  I was going to talk her up as the
most outrageous slut, so he would know what to expect, and then I was going
to go up and ask her if she was going to live up to it.  I knew she was
listening.  She had said she could pretend to be the type of girl he
wanted, and I was going to put that to the test.

   "When it started, it was just pretty straightforward stuff, nothing too
outrageous.  She didint even know what was going on yet.  She was a virgin
when we met, and I am still the only man she has ever had."

   "Right, a complete slut, and only ONE lover?  you are full of shit." he
said, laughing.

   "Well, like I said, at first it was just straight stuff, you know,
missionary position in-and-out.  She wouldnt even do oral, give or
recieve.. But I could tell it wasnt making her happy.  We would fuck for
hours, she would come and come and come and never seem to be satisfied. 
I'd usually fall asleep after five hours, and she would be pretending to
sleep too, but her hand would be between her legs and her finger on her
clit for hours longer, sometimes all night, sometimes even in her sleep.

   I got kind of fed up with the lack of variety, and I hadn't really
caught on to what was happening and how regularly.  So next time she got
really intense like that, I stopped.  She asked me to keep going, then she
TOLD me to keep going.  Then, finally, she BEGGED me to make her come some
more.  And the wierd thing was, when she begged, she came.  She wasn't
touching herself or anything, she just got really quiet and said 'please,
I'll do anything' and it was like, just saying it turned her on so much
that it was enough, and she started with the Big O right there.  So I asked
her to suck me off, and she refused.  I was kind of perplexed, then a light
suddenly went on, and instead of asking, I TOLD her to give me head.  I
grabbed her by the hair and yanked her head down and stuffed it into her
mouth.  Again, it was like fireworks, all of a sudden she was wriggling
like crazy and moaning onto my dick and coming over and over again."

   "Damn, man, you are married to my dream girl!"

   I laughed.  "yeah, but only for two days a month.  the rest of the time
she is a schoolmarm prude" I replied.  "And for about a week after her
S-days, I am glad of the break.  But then there is a two week drought, then
a hell-weekend, then some more nothing, then start all over again with the
screaming and the coming."

   I thought I heard a slight moan from the intercom, which was right next
to my ear, but Charles was still talking so he did not notice.

   "So how wild does she get?  How wild COULD she get?  I mean, she has
only had you..."

   "Remember the night you met her?  at the Longshoreman Restaurant?"

   "Yeah" he said.

   I said the first true words in the conversation.  "She came three times
that night, twice when you were sitting only a few feet away."

   I definitely heard a small moan from the intercom.  I could almost feel
her blushing wildly at this admission, I could almost feel her humiliation,
thinking about the predicament I had put her in.  If she really wanted him,
she would have to act in exactly the way I had described.  I KNEW she
wanted him, but I didn't know if she dared to go through with it.  I was
about to make it worse for her, to REALLY test how much she wanted him.

   "After that, she would do anything I told her to do, just so I would
keep getting her off."

   "Well?" he asked, sitting on the edge of the couch, listening intently,
bent forward.  His erection was clearly visible in his jeans.  "What kind
of stuff?  How kinky did you get?"

   "Hell, after that I didn't HAVE to get kinky, she begged for whatever
she wanted, and I just had to make her go one step further.  For instance,
after she had given me head, the next S-day, I told her I was going to come
in her mouth.  She moand and came, just at the thought, as she was saying
'no, I hate that, no!" But of course, I made her do it, both hands arouond
the back of her head, not letting her get away.  I came, she gagged, and
then started shouting onto my dick, swallowing and pumping me with her
hand. Now, during the S-days, I don't come anywhere else, except sometimes
on her face.  She loves it and hates it at the same time, man."

   He was still listening intently.  "What else?"

   "I made her go into a store and by a box of kleenex with my come
dripping off her chin.  I mean it was obvious.  She was so turned on by it,
she could barely walk."

   "Damn" he said, and the lust was clear in his voice.  "What else?"

   "I made her get under the table at a fancy restaurant and suck me off. I
think maybe twenty or thirthy people saw her do it, including the waiter.
Another time I made her pick up a guy in a bar, and dance with him.  I told
her to get him hard, to make him WANT her.  She was rubbing him and
stickingher tits in his face.  She unbutoned her shirt almost to the waist.
I told her not to wear a bra, so she was giving him quite a show.  Then she
told him to stand still, and she danced just for him, with a lot of
side-to-side motion so that her tits were swaying and bobbing arouond in
her shirt.  Her nipples were sticking out like pencils.  We left quickly
and she was sucking me off and fingering herself before I was out of second
gear."

   "Now, though, she gets off on this stuff without me making her do it. 
She is just a slut, man, a complete and total cocksucking, facefucking
slut, and she WANTS to do the stuff that made her ashamed before.  But only
for those two days.  The rest of the time, she is Mother Teresa"

   "What kind of stuff is she into now?"

   "Flashing people.  About three times a year we get a hotel room,
something on the ground floor, with windows that look out onto a fairly
open spot, and she leaves the curtains open.  Sometimes I fuck her from
behind as she presses her nipples against the glass.  If somebody goes by,
she will close her eyes and make a loud noise to attract attention.  If I
tell her somebody is watching, she gets off HARD."

   "Damn" he said again.

   "Yeah.  But tonight, it is going to be just her and me.  I am going to
lick her till she comes 5 or 6 times, then Ill fuck her for 5 or 6 more,
then I'll fuck her face while she plays with her clit, and then I'll shoot
it in her mouth as she moans and comes and sucks.  Then, she will be
playing with herself until morning.  It is amazing, man."

   We sat for a long time, and then I made like I was getting ready to go,
and he said "I still don't believe all this shit, man."

   Here goes, i said to myself, and said "I can prove it, Charles."

   "How?"

   "She made a video for me a few years ago."

   His eyes brightened.  "And you'd let me see it?"

   "Gotta prove what I am saying somehow" I said.  This time I definitely
heard a moan from the intercom.  I cleared my throat and coughed a few
times to cover up the sound of my wife, coming at the thought that I was
about to show him the videotape I had urged and begged her to make, for
years, and promised solemnly that I would never show to another human
being. "I'll go get it" I said, and trotted quickly upstairs.

   She was naked, on her back.  Her left hand was grasping her right breast
and squeezing hard, and her right hand was at her cunt, two fingers going
in and out as her palm pressed against her clit.  Her eyes were closed and
her mouth was wide open, her tongue running around and around her lips as
though she was pretending to lick a dick.  She heard me come in, and she
came, and it was obvious that she was doing all she could to keep from
screaming.  I reached over and turned off the "Send" button on the
intercom.

   "Hey, it is all up to you, now.  You can either give me the tape and let
me take it down to him, or I can go back down and tell him you have hidden
it, like you occasionally do."

   "What then?"

   "We watch it.  Then, you have a choice.  You can just let it go at that,
of you can decide to be a complete slut, go down there, and tell him you
want him.  He is already hard as a rock, I have no doubt that he will say
yes.  But remember, you have to be ALL that I told him you were, every bit.
He loves sluts, you see.  the more aggressive, the more wanton, the more
slutty the better, understand?"

   I watched her, waiting for an answer.  She moaned, closed her eyes and
came, then pinched both her nipples, and came again."

   "It is in the top drawer of the beureau."

   "Get it" I said.  "There isnt going to be any doubt who is doing this
and why, baby.  You are going to have to do it all yourself, now, from now
on.  Still want him?"

   She stood up, and walked over to the beureau and got out the tape. 
"Show it to him" she said.

   As I walked down the stairs with it, I saw her go to the closet.  Maybe
to pick out something slutty to wear.

   And as I walked down the stairs, I had an idea.  Maybe I could make a
deal with my wife and my drummer.  In return for letting him have her one
day a month, maybe she would agree to do whatever I told her for one day a
month.  The rest of the month I would leave her alone, if she wanted.  One
day of slavery to me, one day of sluthood for him, and twenty eight days of
peace.  I thought she would go for it, I knew HE would go for it, and I
would certainly give her a workout on MY day.  And my next thought was that
it was almost a certainty that one of HIS days we would have a gig.  An
exhibitionist total slut, a blues band, and a crowded bar seemed like all
the ingredients for heaven to me.

   I took the tape down to Charles.