Chapter I

"Do you remember that fantasy you told me about?" Ana breathed into my ear.

I was still too taken aback to respond. She looked a little flushed and smelled like tequila and cigarettes, but that was normal for girls' night out. Every Thursday, she and her two best friends would go to the theater or simply have dinner and a bit too much to drink at one of the trendy bars in town.

What wasn't normal is that my elegant wife had just walked in the door followed by an attractive man in a well-tailored suit. "Man" was perhaps a bit generous. He looked maybe 25; about a decade younger than us. "Who's he?" I managed to get out.

"He's here to help us." She hesitated "Of course only if you want." She dropped her gaze on those last few words and her shoulder slumped slightly. Suddenly she didn't look quite so confident and mischievous.

I adore my wife when she has that take-on-the-world look. The mundane weight of kids and work made it appear less frequently, but I had glimpsed it again when she marched in the door. My response here was crucial – a slight hesitation, a tone of disappointment at my reaction had crept into her voice. I would do anything to ensure that the confident, sexy woman I had convinced to marry me ten years ago stuck around a little longer. The years had been kind to us and we were still very much in love, but not quite as wild and idealistic as we had been.

"Sure," I drawled and kissed her playfully on the neck, trying to buy time. "Tell me what you had in mind." I wasn't at all sure which fantasy she was talking about. Cursed with an overactive imagination, it could have meant anything from a luscious hot-fudge sundae on the back of a camel in the Gobi desert to a full-scale Roman orgy. Judging by her mischievous smile, I suspected it had more to do with the latter.

"Well, I told Alessia and Thalia about it tonight. I hope you don't mind." She pulled back to look into my eyes.

I sensed that she was trying to gauge my reaction, but I had no idea whether to be upset or not, so I smiled and told her it was OK. I mean, they are her best friends, if we can't trust them, who can we trust?

"I'm so happy you are OK with it. I never would have had the nerve to go through with this without them. But they loved the idea and said they were jealous I had such an open-minded husband.

They found this guy at the bar, told him the whole thing and brought him to me. I never expected to get this excited about it." She finished her sentence without taking a breath, then took my hand and placed it under her skirt. My breath shortened at her risqué behavior.

The white cotton of her panties was drenched. As I brought my hand up to examine the drops of moisture on my fingertips, the mingled scents of her arousal and the tequila on her breath hit me hard. Exited and apprehensive at the same time, my mind struggled to make sense of what was happening.

She pulled me closer. "But I have a condition." She lowered her voice.

I half nodded as we embraced and tried not to give away my confusion.

"You have to do whatever I tell you, even if it isn't part of your original fantasy. This is my fantasy now. When I tell the two of you to do something…to me…for me…you have to do it. James has already agreed. Do you agree?"