Speaker 1: It's September twenty sixth, and that means it's time fear
Speaker 1: daily fuck on fucket list Friday. What's on your fucket List?
Speaker 1: The air in our bedroom is thick with anticipation. The
Speaker 1: only light comes from a single, low wattage lamp in
Speaker 1: the corner, casting long, dancing shadows on the walls. I'm
Speaker 1: sitting in the plush velvet armchair by the window, a
Speaker 1: class of deep dark red wine in my hand. On
Speaker 1: the edge of our bed. Sitting side by side are
Speaker 1: my loving husband, David and the beautiful woman we've invited
Speaker 1: into our home, an artist named Mary. The entire scene
Speaker 1: is a tableau of my own creation, my deepest, most
Speaker 1: secret fantasy brought to life, the one I was most
Speaker 1: terrified and most excited to share with David. And David,
Speaker 1: in his infinite, tr rusting love for me, had agreed
Speaker 1: and we had chosen Mary together. I take a slow
Speaker 1: sip of my wine. My eyes mean David's over the
Speaker 1: rim of the glass. He looks nervous, but his gaze
Speaker 1: is steady, waiting for his instructions, for my permission. The
Speaker 1: rules are simple. The rules are simple. My voice is
Speaker 1: a low, even command that cuts through the silence. You
Speaker 1: will not kiss on the mouth, You will not look
Speaker 1: at her, you will not acknowledge her. You will look
Speaker 1: at me, or you will close your eyes, and you
Speaker 1: will not, for one second forget who you're doing this for.
Speaker 1: Mary's lips curve into a knowing smile. David just nods,
Speaker 1: his eyes full of a love and a trust that
Speaker 1: makes my heart ache. My fantasy, my script, my stage.
Speaker 1: And as they turn to each other and David closes
Speaker 1: his eyes, I decide it is time for the curtain
Speaker 1: to rise. I am ready to experience my fantasy. Mary.
Speaker 1: She looks at me, take off your dress. She stands
Speaker 1: and lets the thin silk slip from her shoulders. David's
Speaker 1: eyes are on her, but then they flick back to me,
Speaker 1: seeking my approval. She is beautiful. You may enjoy her body.
Speaker 1: He looks at her, his eyes looking her up and down.
Speaker 1: I see the lust in his eyes, and it makes
Speaker 1: me wet. Worship her as she deserves to be worshiped.
Speaker 1: The Fancas he comes to life in front of me,
Speaker 1: I watches his hands and mouth worship her body, re
Speaker 1: enacting as script that I have pleaded in my mind
Speaker 1: a thousand times He's a beautiful, devoted actor, and she
Speaker 1: is his willing co star. A strange, thrilling cocktail of
Speaker 1: emotion swirls inside me. There's a sharp, possessive pang of jealousy,
Speaker 1: so intense it takes my breathway. But it's quickly followed
Speaker 1: by a wave of something else, a deep, profound joy
Speaker 1: at seeing my husband, the man I love, experiencing such
Speaker 1: pleasure my own arouse what was a roaring fire. My
Speaker 1: hand slips down between my legs, my fingers finding the wet,
Speaker 1: aching heat between my folds. I'm the silent, watchful god
Speaker 1: of this universe, masturbating to a reality I have created.
Speaker 1: I'm in complete control, and I'm completely surrendering to the
Speaker 1: act of watching Mary lay on the bed. As she
Speaker 1: does so, David looks over at me. David, you're to
Speaker 1: fuck her. He climbs on top of her and, with
Speaker 1: no hesitation, enters her his earlier devotion, his tongue pressing
Speaker 1: into her and sucking his hands, stroking. Although I stroke
Speaker 1: myself and watched, we're all preparation for this moment. I
Speaker 1: watch as his raises and lowers, the sound of their bodies,
Speaker 1: the slick slap of skin on skin is both a
Speaker 1: betrayal and a gift. James's eyes find mine in the
Speaker 1: dim light, and they never leave. He's fucking her, but
Speaker 1: he's making love to me. He watches my face as
Speaker 1: I watch him, my own hand moving faster, my breath
Speaker 1: coming in ragged gasps that match theirs. I see the
Speaker 1: moment his control begins to shatter. I see the bliss
Speaker 1: on Mary's face as she meets his rhythm. I'm an observer,
Speaker 1: a participant, a director, and a vessel, all at once.
Speaker 1: As they race toward their climax, I race toward my own.
Speaker 1: The three of us come together. It is my fantasy
Speaker 1: come real. Their shared cries of release are the triitter
Speaker 1: for my own. My orgasm of silent, violent convulsion in
Speaker 1: the lonely chair, my body shuddering as I watch my fantasy,
Speaker 1: my perfect, beautiful and emotional fantasy, reach its stunning conclusion.
Speaker 1: The moment he's finished, David pulls out of Mary and
Speaker 1: comes directly to me, kneeling at my chair. He doesn't
Speaker 1: say a word, just buries his face in my lab
Speaker 1: his body still trembling. I stroke his hair, my own
Speaker 1: body humming with the aftershocks of my release. To feel
Speaker 1: in control, I had to give him away, and in
Speaker 1: watching him with another woman, I had never felt more
Speaker 1: loved or more completely his