Giving Her

I looked at my wife looking at herself in the mirror, her self-critical eye moving up and down her body, my eyes following hers. Neither of us found her anything but desirable.

"You...you look so pretty," I blurted out.

She looked up, smiled softly. "I hope he thinks so," she said.

"Jess..."

She held out her hand. "You need to bring me to him," she said.

'He' was her college boyfriend, the man now here in our house, in our guest room. "Jessica..."

"It's a man thing," she said, "he's in our house, he has to know you're okay with this."

"Can't...can't you just tell him?" I asked. It was one thing to fulfill a fantasy, quite another to look at him, speak to him.

She shook her head. "No," she said, "if you want this, you have to do it my way."

Shaking, too far down the road, too mentally needing this, I reached for her hand, took it, walked her to the guest room upstairs. The door was shut; I paused, looked at her.

"Knock," she mouthed.

Still holding her hand in on hand, I knocked with the other. "D...David," I said, voice shaking.

"Yea?" the deep voice answered.

"I...I have something for you," I said, my tone no different than if i was bringing him towels instead of my wife.

"Come in," he said.

I opened the door, hand shaking. He was on the bed, shoes off, still in his trousers and shirt, laying back, a book in hand. "What is it?" he asked, "I think everything I need is in the bathroom."

I didn't know what to say, so walked in, Jessica behind me, pulled into the room when I entered. I saw his eyes, not quite wide, if anything bemused, looking at Jessica's half-naked body. "I...I brought you something," I managed to say.

"Jessica?" he said, eyes taking in my wife's lingerie.

"It's been awhile, David, I missed it," Jessica said.

He looked at me, a smile spread on his face. "Just set here there," he said, pointing to edge of the bed.

I was shaking, led Jessica to the bed, helped her sit. "Is...is there anything else you need before I...I go?" I asked, making it obvious I intended to leave her with him.

He looked at me, at my wife. "You have any bourbon?" he asked.

"I...I don't really drink that kind of stuff," I said, "I'm sorry. I...I can get wine."

Jessica looked at him with a shy smile, then looked at me. "I bought a bottle of what he likes," she said, "it's under the cabinet."

He smiled. "A bourbon for me, a glass of wine for her," he said.

I nodded, left to go get the drinks. When I came back, they were not on the bed but instead in a leather club chair in the corner. He was sitting on the chair, legs wide, she was on his lap. He had one hand wrapped around her, casually, slowly rubbing one of her breasts; his other hand was resting on her thigh, fingers dancing on the inside. Her eyes were half closed, her breathing deep.

I set the drinks on a small side table next to them. "I...I'll be downstairs," I said.

"We'll see you in the morning," he said.