Deferential

I walked into the bedroom, saw my wife fastening the ankle strap of her heel, was about to say something when I froze, my eyes drawn to the lace top of her stockings, the soft skin above it.

"You...you're wearing stockings," I said. I'd asked her to wear them for years but she always demurred, saying they weren't very practical.

She finished with her heel, smoothed the hem of her dress to cover her thighs. "He's kind of got a thing for them," she said with a gentle smile.

"Oh," I replied, looking down, side to side.

"You're nervous," she said.

"No," I lied.

"You're doing that thing you do when you're nervous," she said.

"Maybe," I admitted.

"Why?" she asked.

I looked at her with an are you serious look. "I'm going to dinner with my wife and her...her...whatever."

"Boyfriend," she suggested.

"My wife's boyfriend," I said.

"He's nice," she said, "there's no reason to be nervous. I know you're uncomfortable, I get it, but...he's the man in my life, I think it's going to get awkward if you don't meet him." She stood, showed off her dress. "How do I look?"

"B...beautiful," I managed to say.

"You think?" she asked. "I want to look pretty for him but not too pretty."

"Not too pretty?"

She looked away, then back at me. "I don't want to make it too awkward for you," she said.

"It's going to be awkward," I said.

"I mean if I dressed to pretty, your eyes would be all over me which, well, you know how possessive men can be."

"Your my wife, I'm not supposed to look at you?"

"I didn't say that," she said, "it's just...he's my boyfriend and I don't want you...I don't know...gawking at me while he's there. I mean, we're married, he obviously knows you're attracted to me, but I want you deferential."

I looked away again, the word tore through me. Deferential. She wanted me deferential to her boyfriend. Part of me revolted against the word, but part of me was turned on by it. "I...I know," I said, "I just...I don't know how."

"Hon, don't worry, really. He's the kind of man who...I don't know...takes charge. You don't have to worry what to do, just be yourself, just follow his lead."

"He must think I'm...pathetic," I said.

"No, sweetie, really, he doesn't. You know how this is a turn-on for you? It's the same for him, trust me, he enjoys it. Just be respectful, deferential, it will be fine."