She pushed the denim down her thighs, and stood before me, a vision in black lace. “Well, are you going to stay down there, or shall we make you a l...ttle more comfortable?” she said. I sprang from the bed, preceded by my re-tumescent organ, which now felt long enough to pole vault with, and hard enough to cut diamonds. I stood before her, still unsure how to proceed. Sensing my naivety, she began divesting me of my clothes. I stepped out of my jeans and shorts, and my shirt joined them on the. Though Holly had shown herself off many times, it had always been in magazines and on the internet. Having no more than the shell of the car between herself and her admirers was a completely new kettle of fish. These were, after all, men who wrote in sometimes graphic detail about how turned on they were by my wife, and what they’d like to do to her. As turned on as I was by the idea, part of me was having second thoughts, but why? For twenty-five years I’d been turned on, knowing other men. More

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