Chapter 1

If you’d told me that the key to unlocking my wife’s sexuality would be a cheesy, poorly produced, badly acted porn movie about pirates, I would have done more than laughed in your face. I’d have paid for you to see a therapist.

The very idea was absurd.

Liz had grown up in a very religious household. A very traditional Catholic family. The sort that thought nearly everything was a sin. All of human nature was to be denied and shamed. Sex especially.

Funny enough, she came from a family of nine.

How they reconciled having so many children, and yet shamed the very act of sex is beyond me. I grew up far less religious, but still had some flavoring of the shame culture around sex and sexuality too. We were quite a pair when we found each other and fell in love.

She was a freshman in college. I was a junior. It was my birthday, turning twenty-one, and my friends threw me a party at a local bowling alley. The place was a dive, but fun. Stale nachos with lukewarm cheese. Flat beer. Smelly bowling shoes. And the smell of smoke permeating the entire building, even though they’d banned smoking indoors nearly a decade prior.

While my friends were busy bowling and drinking and laughing, my attention had been caught by the girl behind the snack counter. A pale girl with dark brown eyes, a slim, curvy figure, and beautiful full breasts. She must have weighed no more than a hundred and some change. Her smile was dazzling. Her hair was dark brown, pulled back in a ponytail. The bowling alley polo she wore was hardly flattering, but it didn’t detract from her natural allure.

I spent my entire time at the snack bar, chatting with her. By the time my friends were half drunk and trying to drag me out to go somewhere else, I was begging for her number. Thankfully, she wrote it down on a bar napkin and handed it to me with a demure smile.

The rest, they say, is history. We dated for a few months, then got married. It was fast. Some said too fast. But when you know, you know. Liz was the one for me, and I wasn’t gonna waste time. 

I don’t want you to get the idea that just because Liz was raised in a strict conservative household, that she didn’t know anything about sex. She knew the mechanics. The parts and pieces. She was taught how babies were made. So on our wedding night, it wasn’t as if she caught sight of my penis and thought there was some sort of snake between my legs. It was just that she was taught the ‘enjoyment’ of sex was supposed to be… limited. They neglected to teach her about the female orgasm, which she thought was a myth up till six months into our marriage when she experienced her first. (Not for a lack of trying on my part, but apparently for lots of women, reaching orgasm can be difficult).

I wasn’t all that experienced either. I’d seen my fair share of naked women on the internet and peeking here and there in the women’s changing room at the pool. But I definitely knew more than her about what sex was and didn’t think it was a dirty thing to be swept under the rug.

Honestly, sometimes I felt guilty. Liz almost never denied me when I asked for sex. The only times were when she wasn’t feeling good (turned out she was pregnant) or if she was on her period. Otherwise, she was willing. But she never instigated. I had to take the lead. Oral was a rarity, part of that whole ‘sex is dirty’ mentality. But when she did give it to me (she never asked me to do it and when I offered she just shook her head) it was enthusiastic. Probably because she wanted it done quickly. She always spat it out into the sink or into a tissue. Never swallowed.

I’m sure to anyone reading this that our sex life sounds horrible. But honestly, it wasn’t. I mean, was it plain and simple? Yes. But it was still good. It was intimate. There was love and connection. Once she’d had her first orgasm during sex with me, it became more of a common occurrence rather than something like a solar eclipse, coming only once every hundred years. We did it fairly often, probably a couple times a week at least. And we were active enough that she got pregnant twice without any genuine effort, giving us two kids, a girl and a boy.

For ten years, that’s what our sex life was like. The rest of our life was just as simple, really. Work. House. Kids. The routines of adulthood. But it’s been a good life. To complain about the lack of sexual adventure seemed selfish.

But… if you’ve ever met a man, you know that one of his defaults is to be just that: selfish.

Several times in our marriage I tried to have a serious talk with Liz about our sex life. About how restrained she always was. How scared. How mundane.

I didn’t say those things to hurt her. I really tried to be as sensitive as possible. But more often than not, my attempts were met with guilty, shame filled tears. She’d decry that she couldn’t help it. This was just who she was. She’d promise to try harder, fearful that she was disappointing me. But that was never the case. Liz was loyal. She was loving and devoted to me and the kids. The only vice she really had was that she loved expensive coffee, insisting that we buy whole beans and grind them ourselves rather than just get the regular grounds. She loved me. She took care of me. And if simple, mundane sex was the trade off for such a good woman, then I’d accept it.

However, that didn’t stop me from trying to spice things up every once in a while.

People around the office had a habit of talking a bit too freely when it came to their spouses or partners. I’d catch chatter at lunch or in the break room about how liberated, indulgent, exploratory their sex lives were. About dates that were wild and kinky. I’m not ashamed to admit that it made me jealous. On occasion, I’d buy lingerie, trying to get Liz to wear it in the hopes that it would loosen her up. Maybe if she felt sexy, then she might let her guard down, and we could explore something new.

Inevitably she’d try it on (not letting me see, sadly) and be too embarrassed. She’d feel guilty that she was so shy and sulked for a day or two until I could convince her that it wasn’t a big deal. Make-up sex was nice.

Once I tried buying her one of those small egg vibrators. She was too shy to use it in private, let alone in front of me. Another disaster.

I’d all but run out of ideas when I came upon the video.

These days video stores are all but dead. Smaller towns still have rental places, mostly because the town doesn’t have very high speed internet so streaming isn’t as easy. Otherwise, physical media is being relegated to ‌ second-hand stores. Like the rental stores of old, the second-hand store in town—Remember to Rewind—had a special section for the more ‘racy’ and ‘explicit’ movies. It was behind a curtain in the back. A smaller room with shelves less organized and packed even tighter than the ones in the main store.

It was probably because of all my pent-up desires and denied fantasies that I found myself exploring that back room. I didn’t stay long. It felt like I was doing something shady. A DVD about pirates caught my eye, and I pulled it off the shelf. It was simply called ‘Pirates’ and had several women on the cover, all very beautiful. The back had a little blurb and several other pictures, but nothing overly raunchy to hint at what was actually in the movie.

I went with my gut and bought it. I couldn’t meet the cashier’s eyes, some pimply faced teen who honestly didn’t seem to care what I was buying. I smuggled it home and stashed it.

That night after supper and the chaos of getting the kids to take their baths and get into bed, Liz and I found ourselves on the couch watching TV. It was really the only time we got alone lately, an hour or two after the kids went to sleep and before we decided to turn in as well.

“Wanna watch a movie?” I blurted as Liz switched the channel again to another mindless house flipping show.

“Hm? A movie? Sure.” She smiled.

I took a deep breath and went to where I’d stashed my impulse buy, behind the television.

“Uh, why’d you put it back there?” Liz curled her legs up on the couch, smoothing out the blanket that was covering her. She was dressed in her typical nightwear: shorts and an old oversized t-shirt, hair in a messy bun.

I pulled it out of the bag and handed it to her.

She looked it over, confused, then her eyes rose as she read more of the details and saw the rating. “Honey. This is an X rated move. It’s…” She lowered her voice, afraid the kids might hear even though they were far off in their rooms. “It’s a porn.”

“Yeah,” I cleared my throat. “I know. I thought… maybe we could give it a try?”

Liz stared back at me, cheeks blushing deep red. I could tell she was nervous, probably imagining starting the movie and her parents bursting in, condemning our sinful behavior. That was nonsense, of course. We were grown adults. Married for over a decade. Plus, her parents were over a hundred miles away.

Maybe she was imagining God peeking in on her, watching her watch something filthy. Judging her. Maybe giving her bad marks like she’d gotten in Catholic school.

She looked back at the movie, biting her lip thoughtfully, and then held it back out to me. “O…okay. I guess we can give it a try.”

Not wanting to waste my wife's mustered courage, I quickly put the disk into the player and came back to the couch, snuggling up close to her.

The movie started off with sex. Liz gasped as she witnessed a busty blond and a big dicked man having sex. She watched with a sort of guilty fascination. It wasn’t an overly long scene, but it was explicit. Far more raw and ‘real’ than Liz had ever witnessed beyond our own bedroom.

After the initial scene, the ‘story’ began. It was as bare bones as you could imagine, though it was clear this movie had much higher production value than your typical porn movie that was often thrown together on a shoestring budget.

Liz actually laughed a few times at the flat acting. “This is horrible.” She muttered, nudging me with a smile.

I shrugged. “Give it a chance.”

She rolled her eyes, but didn’t protest.

The narrative bounced fairly quickly between what they were trying to pass off as plot and sex scenes. Women sucking cock. Men eating pussy. Fucking and riding and moaning.

“This is disgusting.” Liz’s voice was soft, with no heat behind it. It was more shocked. Hushed. Curious.

“Should I turn it off?” I asked, watching her stare at the close up on screen of a rather large penis thrusting rapidly into a slick pussy.

“Hm? No. No. It’s okay.” She took my hand, squeezing, her eyes never leaving the screen.

Liz watched in rapt silence. All her protests and remarks had dwindled away. She watched the sex scenes without blinking, or so it seemed, and even seemed engaged in the narrative.

We watched the movie in its entirety before the credits began to roll, and I switched it off.

“So…what did you think?” I asked hesitantly.

Liz nibbled at her lip, hands twisting in her blanket thoughtfully. “It was… interesting. I mean, better than I would have expected. That’s for sure.” It was a measured answer, careful and neutral.

The fact that she wasn’t utterly disgusted with it and with me was a good sign. I pushed a little more. “Think you’d want to see another? I think there’s a sequel.”

Her smile was incredulous. “A sequel? Seriously?” Rose blush entered her cheeks. “Well, I guess…why not.” She shrugged as if it were no big deal. But I’d grown familiar with my wife’s body language over the years and knew that this was far from a big deal.

Had porn been the key to unlocking my wife’s inhibitions all this time? Was it this specific movie? Would any movie have done? Or was this just the magical moment? Right time. Right place. Mood. Movie. All of it falling into place perfectly to help my wife move beyond her shy, shame filled upbringing.

“I take it the movie excited you?” Liz began to giggle, her eyes focused on the bulge that had emerged in my lap, tenting my pajama pants.

“I…oh…” I chuckled with her and just shrugged.

“Want me to help relieve some of that pressure?” Her grin made my erection even harder.

As conservative as Liz was when it came to sex, she gave amazing handjobs. It was as if she understood instinctively how to caress and tease, and stimulate.

I pulled down my PJs, my turgid member bouncing free. It was a respectable five inches and a decent thickness. But for the first time I was comparing myself to the cocks I’d seen in the movie. I was maybe half their size in some instances.

Was Liz comparing too?

Her hand wrapped around me, firm and familiar. I watched her breasts sway in her t-shirt as she leaned closer, moving her hand up and down my length and pressing her thumb over my head, smearing the pre-cum in circles. She knew me like the back of her hand, able to gauge my breathing, the pulsing of my penis, how my balls tensed. It allowed her to adjust her pace, her grip, all in an effort to bring me to the highest peak before letting me explode.

“What part of the film did you like ‌best?” She asked, eyes on my cock and hand moving slow and steady with a soft grip.

“The fight with those skeletons was pretty fun.” I muttered, leaning back and enjoying the feel of my wife’s hand.

She smacked my shoulder with her free hand. “No, smarty pants. I mean, which um… of the rude bits did you like?” The question was quiet but insistent. Her eyes met mine, and I could see her earnest curiosity.

“Well…I guess I like the part where the guy was in bed with two women…” I grinned.

She glared and squeezed my shaft hard, making me gasp. Even though it was painful, it still felt like heaven in her hand. Her glare quickly melted into giggles.

“You’re such a pig. But, I guess that’s a pretty common fantasy with men.” She shook her head.

“What about you? What did you like?” I ventured.

Her hand continued to move, twisting around me, pumping up and down. Squeeze. Pump. Squeeze. Pump. Thumb circling my tip. It was bringing me closer and closer to the edge.

“I…I’m not sure. It was all…exciting. Seeing those people making love. I mean, it gives you a lot to think about.”

I smirked at her description of what the people did in the video. ‘Making love’. What those actors were doing was hardly ‘loving’. It was fucking. But Liz never referred to sex in that manner. It was too crass. Too ‘sinful’.

“What does it make you think about?” I asked, beginning to pant as she moved her hand faster. 

Her eyes met mine. There was something there in the way she was looking at me. A spark that had the potential to be fanned into a flame. But it was fragile.

“Tell me you love me.” She whispered, stroking faster. Faster. Firm. Eyes on me, watching me desperately.

I groaned, my cock throbbing. “I love you.” I gasped, releasing myself into her hand. My ejaculation gushed out, covering Liz’s pumping hand, stroking me straight through my orgasm as I bucked my hips into her.

She pressed herself against me, kissing me hard, hand still gripping my penis. The intensity was new, filled with possibilities that I was eager to explore.

…

The house next to ours had been vacant for a few months when Rob finally moved in. It was an early Saturday, Liz was in the kitchen cooking up breakfast. She’d dawned a conservative fuzzy blue robe, hair back in a messy bun, humming to herself as she swayed her hips, bacon sizzling in the pan. I gave her bottom a pinch as I poured my coffee, earning me a playful scowl but no reprimand.

It had been about a month since we had begun dipping our toes into the world of porn. We watched the Pirates movie and its sequel a few times, as well as a handful of other movies I grabbed from Remember to Rewind. So far it hadn’t sparked too much play in the bedroom, but Liz had taken to stroking me during the sex scenes, and even let me finger her on occasion at the same time. It wasn’t the wild exploration I was hoping for, but it was a start.

Our children were still asleep, but that would change fairly soon. They never failed to wake up and bounce off the walls, scarfing down breakfast and then planting themselves in front of the television for an uninterrupted afternoon of cartoons and video games.

I took my coffee and stepped out onto our front porch, breathing in the early morning chill. A moving van pulled up to the house next door and into the driveway. Movers quickly jumped out and began the process of unloading, hauling furniture and boxes into the house. While they busied themselves with their task, another vehicle pulled up. It was a luxury Merćedes, dark blue with tinted windows.

My first impression of Rob as he got out of his car was that of a put together man who knew exactly what he wanted and was used to getting it. He just had that air about him. He was in his mid fifties, average height, with dark hair that was streaked with silver. Fashionably trimmed stubble. A smug smile, but not unwelcoming. There was a certain amount of arrogance to him, but also accessibility. He may have been used to getting what he wanted, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t fair about it.

It was the attitude of a successful sales agent. Which is exactly what he was.

His dark, piercing eyes met mine, and his grin warmed to that charming smile he’d give new customers or clients. 

“Good morning, new neighbor!” He waved and came over to the porch, extending his hand for me to shake. He didn’t seem to be bothered by my vantage point, standing on the porch while he stood at least two feet below on our lawn.

“Good morning. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Alec Ashford.” We shook firmly. There wasn’t any contest in our grip, just mutual respect for new acquaintances.

“Wonderful. I’m Robert Wells. You may call me Rob. It’s a pleasure.” His voice was rich. Friendly.

Behind me, the door opened, and Liz stepped out, holding her own cup of coffee and smiling as she came to stand next to me.

Rob’s eyes were drawn to Liz like a magnet. They traveled over her, the robe was sensible, but it still clung to her figure well enough to hint at what was beneath. The top was open just enough to flash a small amount of cleavage.

“Hi. I’m Liz.” She held out her hand. “Guess we are gonna be neighbors?”

“It would seem so.” Rob’s grin never faltered, but something in his eyes changed that I couldn’t put my finger on.

He shook her hand, keeping hold just a fraction too long.

“Once you’re settled, you and your wife should come over for dinner.” Liz offered. I’m not sure why she assumed he was married. He didn’t have a ring on his finger, and from what little I saw the movers taking from the van, he definitely had the air of a bachelor.

“Ahh,” he chuckled. “No wife for me, I’m afraid. Never could find a woman to put up with me in the long term.” He gave Liz a wink, then turned his attention to me. “I’d be happy to oblige. Would Monday night work? Not that I’m trying to dictate the terms.” Again he had that smug grin, confident but oddly kind.

I looked at Liz. “Would that work?”

Her eyes were lingering on Rob, meeting the man’s gaze beat for beat before she turned her attention to me. “Hm? Oh, yeah, sure. I can cook that roast I’ve been saving.” She grinned warmly.

“Sounds wonderful.” Rob tucked his hands behind his back, standing straight and dignified. “It’s a date. I’ll come over at, say, seven?”

I nodded, glancing back at Liz, who had her coffee mug up to her lips, watching Rob again with a guarded expression.

“Looking forward to it.” Rob gave us a nod, turned and marched back towards his new home, giving the movers a few instructions as he walked inside.

“Seems nice.” I muttered, taking a drink and turning to Liz, who was still staring at where Rob had vanished inside the house.

“I don’t know.” She bit her lip. “Gave me the chills. Did you see how he looked at me? His eyes, they were so… predatory.” Liz shivered, wrapping her arms around herself.

“Then why did you invite him over?”

She sighed, turning away from the house, as if trying to put it out of her mind. “It’s the polite thing to do. And first impressions aren’t everything. I’m probably just tired.”

I smiled and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “You’re too nice sometimes. This whole fair play, decency stuff is gonna get you in trouble one day.” I teased.

Those words were far more prophetic than I could have ever imagined.

…

“I hear you got a new neighbor?” Simon asked, sitting down with me in the breakroom Monday morning.

“How’d you hear that?” I asked, stirring a packet of sugar into my coffee.

Simon grinned. He was a rugged looking guy who worked in IT, complete with the nerdy t-shirt and worn out jeans. “Word gets around, especially when a guy like Robert Wells is the topic.”

I settled back in my chair, my curiosity peaked. “Is he some sort of big shot?”

Simon waved a hand as if dismissing the idea. “Not exactly. He’s well known around sales circles. I met him once at an IT convention. The guy didn’t know shit about what he was selling, at least not on any sort of actual usability level. But the man could sell it. He’d probably sell sea water to a whale, no problem.”

“Not sure that’s the expression.” I chuckled.

“Yeah, yeah. You get the idea, though. He’s good at what he does.”

“So, is that why he’s part of the rumor mill? A good salesman?”

“Hardly. It’s his womanizing that’s the talk of the town.” Simon grinned. “By all reports, the man is a satyr. He’s had, like, three wives. Cheated on them all. And at his last job, there was some uproar about him getting his secretary pregnant. Not sure if it’s true. But it’s pretty clear the man’s got wandering eyes and hands.”

My stomach twisted slightly. “Oh, so… was he fired or something?”

Simon shook his head. “It seems like things were settled quietly. This was about a month ago. I’d heard through some online gossip with other IT teams that he transferred to a new company, selling all this new AI tech that’s rearing its ugly head. I didn’t realize he’d moved too until someone mentioned seeing him in your neighborhood. Quick Google stalking later, saw his new house was right next to yours. Have you met him yet?”

I swallowed a lump in my throat. “Uh, yeah. He came on Saturday and introduced himself. Seemed nice enough.”

“Oh, I’m sure the guy’s got charisma up the ass. How else could he be getting those big commission checks? He’s one of those old school sales guys who were making‌ five and even six-figure checks every month, if not more.” Simon almost sounded jealous.

I just grunted in response, suddenly worried about who we had invited into our home.

…

At home, Liz was buzzing around the kitchen. The kids were over at a friend's house for the evening, just across the street, so that we could have a nice dinner with our new neighbor. Liz had been busy all day, cleaning up the house, setting the table, and overall making sure our typical suburban home was presentable for company. She’d chosen a simple floral yellow dress that complimented her figure, tight around the waist and bust. Her hair was down and subtly crimped. Light makeup accented her cheeks and lips, and eyes. It almost felt like she was trying to show off rather than just preparing for a nice dinner.

I tried to help, but she insisted that she’d taken care of everything. 

At seven sharp, our doorbell rang. Rob stood at the door with a bouquet of roses.

“A little gift to say thank you for being so welcoming to a stranger.” Rob’s grin was beyond charming, and Liz blushed, taking the flowers, mumbling about putting them in a vase.

Following her into the kitchen, Liz quickly pulled out a glass vase, filled it with water, and placed the flowers in. When she turned to thank Rob, the man swept Liz up in a friendly hug and gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek. I stared, dumbstruck, and noted again that his hug—like his handshake—was just a beat too long. He had her crushed against his chest, her breasts pressed firmly and face close to his as he gave her a wide smile before stepping back.

“It’s so wonderful of you to invite me over. Hopefully, this can be the start of a wonderful friendship.” He turned from my wife and took my hand, shaking it much more firmly than the first time we met.

Our dinner was pleasant. Rob was witty and charming. He was engaged when we talked, asking questions and genuinely seemed interested. We ate heartily, the roast Liz prepared cooked to perfection. Rob took seconds and thirds enthusiastically.

As the evening wore on, Liz brought out a bottle of wine, and we sat around the table drinking and discussing anything that came to mind.

Had I not heard the rumors about Rob earlier that day, I’d have thought the dinner a typical evening with a neighbor. But because of what Simon had told me, my suspicions were on high alert, and I was watching him closely. Which is why I picked up on how often he was looking at Liz. How his eyes lingered. How he drank in Liz’s figure whenever she stood up to get the bottle of wine from the kitchen.

It was a look of approval. Of interest.

Maybe I was being too sensitive. Liz was attractive. I couldn’t blame the man for admiring a beautiful woman. I’d done it plenty. But his gaze bordered on leering rather than just tangential admiration.

During our conversation, it came up that Rob was divorced. But he didn’t elaborate. Nor did he comment on how many times he’d been divorced. Somehow in the midst of that discussion, he’d slipped in that he’d gotten a vasectomy some time back and that he’d been tested recently for STDs. That wasn’t your typical dinnertime conversation. Nor was it normal for Rob’s eyes to have so heavily bore into Liz as he told us those little details.

He told us that he was in sales—no surprise there—and that he’d just recently transitioned into a new position that was more training rather than being out in the field.

“Normally I’d just get an apartment, since I was on the road so often for conferences and seminars and the like. But this new position has me being much more sedentary. I suppose it's time to settle down a little, honestly. This old body ain’t what it used to be… but I’ve still got plenty of stamina.” Again, his eyes darted to Liz.

She was noticing. Her cheeks were tinting pink. But she never let on to what we were both figuring out was very obvious innuendo. We kept the conversation civil and polite. For Liz’s part, when Rob had first arrived, she’d been a little cautious, but through the course of the evening had relaxed and seemed far less wary of him despite his subtle hints at his attraction towards her.

It was nearly eleven when Rob finally stood up, finishing off the last bit of wine from his glass and giving an appreciative sigh. “Well, this evening has been one of the best I’ve had in a long while. Good company. Good food. I greatly appreciate your having me over. Once I’m settled, I’ll be sure to return the favor. As it is, the only thing that’s really set up is my bed.” His gaze landed on Liz, her eyes widening slightly.

She giggled. Good lord, my wife giggled at his remark, eliciting a wide grin from the man.

“And speaking of bed…” He paused, letting the silence stretch for a moment as if daring us to fill it in with our own thoughts. “I should be heading home. I’m sure we all need a good night's rest.”

We saw him out, but before he left, he turned and again swept my wife up in a very tight hug. He gave her a kiss on the cheek, then turned to me and shook my hand firmly. With one last thanks, he left our porch, walked across our lawn to his, and then vanished into his own home.

“Well… that went well…I think.” I muttered.

Liz was again watching his closed front door thoughtfully. “Charming, for sure. I think I misjudged him when we met him the other day.”

“Oh?” Honestly, I was starting to think she might have been right about him. That he was a bit suspect.

“Sure,” she shrugged, then turned, biting her lip. “Though I’ll say… when he hugged me, I felt something.”

“What do you mean?”

She started giggling again. “He had an erection. Maybe it was the wine.” She covered her mouth and continued to giggle as we closed the door.

“Seriously?” I gaped at her.

Liz shrugged as we moved back to the dining room to clear away the dishes. “Yeah. It was hard to miss. He probably wasn’t really thinking about it.”

I scoffed. “I doubt that. The man has a bit of a reputation, apparently.” I picked up the empty wine glasses, bringing them to the sink while Liz gathered up what little leftovers we had.

“Really? Like what?” Liz asked, genuinely curious.

“Apparently he’s a bit of a womanizer. Divorced three times. There’s even a rumor that at his last position he got his secretary pregnant.”

Liz paused as she was putting Suran wrap over the roast. “Now that doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. Didn’t he say he’d gotten a vasectomy?”

I looked over at her suspiciously. “That’s what you took from what I just said? Are you not at all worried about him being a flirt and adulterer?”

My wife sighed, shaking her head. “I mean, I suppose it’s not that big of a surprise. He was making eyes at me all night.”

“Oh, so you did notice?”

Liz put the roast in the fridge. “Alec, I may have been raised in a very conservative home, but I’m not blind. I’ve seen men looking at me practically all my life. I saw you eyeing me at the bowling alley the second you walked in. You thought you were being so sly, but you were like a deer staring into the headlights.” She chuckled, stepping up to me and giving my chest a pat.

“And you’re okay with our neighbor ogling you?” I asked, hands on her hips.

“I mean… I’m not ‘okay’ with it. But I’m not really upset. I guess I’m not really sure. It’s been a while since I’ve noticed anyone looking at me.” She wrapped her arms around my neck, looking at me thoughtfully. “At first, I didn’t really like it. But it’s nice knowing there are men out there that can still find me attractive, besides you I mean.” She gave me a kiss on the side of my mouth. “But you really don’t need to get all bent out of shape about it. He’s just jealous that you’ve got a loving, attractive wife. Besides, he’s too old for me.” Her laugh was bright and playful.

But I could swear I saw something in her eyes. A curiosity. The sort that killed the cat.

Ultimately, I felt reassured. Liz was a good woman. Faithful. But the events of that night continued to nag at me the next couple of days. I couldn’t work out if I was flattered or threatened by Rob’s interest in my wife. Doesn’t every man want to be envied by others? For them to see what he has and covet it? That’s probably why one of those ten commandments is to not do that sort of thing. It can lead to all sorts of strange thoughts and even more dangerous actions.

Rob clearly found my wife attractive, and didn’t seem to have much of a problem showing that interest right in front of me. Did that mean he’d try to do something? If the rumors were even remotely true, was my wife safe with that man lurking around so close by?

Add to this new situation that Liz and I were continuing our exploration into watching porn that I couldn’t help but have some dreams. Dream about my wife… and another man. With Rob having inserted himself into our lives, his face transposed itself onto the otherwise faceless men that I’d been seeing in my dreams. My mind was twisting signals. Porn and real life seemed to be blurring a little, and it was very off putting and a little scary.

Was I really willing to let something like that happen?

I’d never really genuinely thought about it. Dreams are one thing. Fantasies, films—those were all fake. But the idea that I might want to actually see my wife having sex with someone else… that was very, very confusing. At least for someone like me. Maybe other red-blooded men who grew up watching porn since puberty hit them didn’t have this sort of dilemma. But I’d been sheltered, much like Liz, and so the struggle for me was real. I was battling guilt and shame. I was warring with myself about how possessive I was of my wife, but also with the fact that I didn’t own my wife. She wasn’t property and she could make her own decisions.

So what would happen if she wanted to take a lover? Was that something she’d ever want? Was it something that I could allow? Something I could be okay with?

I loved Liz beyond words. I never wanted to lose her. Did that mean if she had an affair, that I would just stand aside and let it happen? Could I forbid it? Or would she be insulted that I was trying to assert so much authority over her? She may have been raised in a home where the man was supposed to be ‘in charge’, but we had never worked that way in our relationship. We were always equals. Independent, but together.

What if I allowed it? Stepped aside and let her take a lover. How would that affect us? Our marriage? Our family?

I shook off all the concerns and intrusive thoughts, deciding to focus on what Liz and I had been exploring before Rob came barreling into our lives. Besides, he was just our neighbor. We’d met him all of twice. That hardly lent itself to all these worries I was experiencing.

…

The most recent video I’d procured differed from the others we’d watched. Rather than a basic porn parody of another movie franchise—we’d watched parodies of Marvel movies, DC, hell, even some Disney movies—I had grabbed something that was more serious. The girl on the cover was on her knees, eyes covered by a blindfold, wearing a black leather bra and pants, with her hands tied behind her back with leather cuffs and a leather collar around her neck. It was a bondage movie. Nothing serious. In terms of how deeply it delved into the fetish, it was probably as tame as you could get. But for us, this was ‌a very large step.

Two days after our dinner with Rob, I presented the video to Liz as we met on the couch. The kids were asleep, and we were finally having our planned private time. She took it and stared at it with even more fascination than the pirate film.

“Wow,” she murmured. Her eyes scanned over the front, then turned it over and read through the blurb and looked at the screenshots.

“What do you think?” I asked nervously.

She met my hopeful gaze. “Okay, let's watch it.” There was a tightness in her voice I’d never heard before. I hoped it was a good sign.

We sat together on the couch, cuddling close with Liz’s hand finding its way naturally to my thigh as I pressed play. Liz watched with rapt attention, her hand squeezing my thigh when the sex scenes began. This movie started off similar to the others—sans the parody characters of superheroes—with simple sex scenes that were explicit and sometimes even a bit wildly over the top. We’d gotten used to those, even to the point where we were enjoying them. At the halfway point is when the more kinky interactions began.

Liz sat up straighter as she watched the woman on screen getting blindfolded. Her breath became shallow when she was stretched out onto the bed, her clothes gone, arms and legs ‌bound to the bedposts. I watched as Liz’s eyes grew, her pupils blowing wide and her tongue absently licking her lips.

On screen, the man who bound the women began to take her, his thick member plunging into her exposed depths. The woman was helpless, unable to move as the man filled her pussy over and over with his thickness. He held her hips down, pounding forcefully, one hand finding its way to her neck and gripping tightly as he continued his relentless assault.

Liz was panting. Her hand moving to her chest, pressing as if trying to imagine what it was like for the woman on screen. The camera zoomed, giving a close up of the woman’s wet lips sucking at the man’s cock as he drove it into her. She was at his mercy, and he had absolutely none. She was crying out in orgasm, being fucked straight through it, directly into another. Orgasm after orgasm crashing into each other like a twelve car pileup.

Her nails dug into my thigh as she watched, captivated. The woman shouted out in ecstasy, juices thick and glistening on the man’s cock whenever it emerged, and then plunged back in, his balls slapping against her ass in wet smacks.

“Oh my God,” Liz whispered. She mouthed the words over and over as she watched. Her hand sought mine, grabbing hold and squeezing hard enough for me to feel my circulation getting cut off.

The scene came to a head, the man driving deep and groaning. His body went rigid, his grunts strained. The woman arched beneath him, moaning graphically as the man shot his cum into her. Thick jets of hot semen filled her, dripping out and down her ass. He pulled out with a sick, thick splat, and more cum came gushing out of her wet pink.

Liz was practically hyperventilating. The movie continued, but Liz diverted her attention to me. “Would you do that?”

I didn’t understand the question. Liz leaned in, her hand still in mine, the other taking hold of my arm. “Would you… have you ever thought about tying me up? Taking me…” She looked back at the video, “Like that?”

Her eyes were wild. Cheeks flushed.

“I… I want you to do that to me.” She stammered.

This was new. Unexpected. Sure, I had been hoping for our sex lives to take on some more spice. Use the vibrator I got her. Wear some sexy lingerie or outfits. Maybe try new positions. But… this? Tying her down to the bed? Fucking her while she was restrained? I’d never imagined that.

She pulled me up from the couch. “Alec. I want you to do it. Will you?”

I didn’t bother answering. There was no way I was going to deny my wife something she so desperately wanted, especially when it was concerning sex that wasn’t our typical missionary. We rushed upstairs, almost forgetting to keep our steps quiet for fear of waking up the kids. Liz was already pulling off her t-shirt, her breasts bouncing in her bra as she fumbled with it, unhooking it as I ran into our closet.

Several ties were hanging on a rack next to my dress shirts. We didn’t have rope, so I was going to use the next best option we had. I pulled down several and rushed back into the room. Liz was already on the bed, completely stripped of her clothes, laying spreadeagle and looking at me with fire in her eyes. It was the sort of lust I’d dreamed of seeing but hadn’t ever truly expected.

Her pussy was slick with juices, clearly visible in the dim lighting of the bedroom. She was panting, watching me as I began to tie her with the ties to our bedposts. Eyes on me, trembling when I tightened the knots. The soft groans she elicited made my erection pulse all the harder.

Once she was tied, I put the last tie over her eyes. Her lips were trembling. Nipples as hard as crystal. “Alec.” She whispered, like it was a prayer. I pulled the knot tight behind her head, completely covering her eyes and leaving her in the dark and at my mercy.

I stared down at her, spread and vulnerable. Not once had I ever seen my wife so exposed. Laid bare. It was an intense sight. Heart pounding. I leaned down and kissed her lips softly, trying to give her reassurance. Her tongue touched mine, our lips clung and pulled away, trading breaths.

“I love you.” She whispered, voice trembling.

Undressing quickly, I contemplated exactly what to do. I could do anything. My eyes roved over her, seeing her flat stomach, her puffy mound with its soft blonde hair. I took my cock in hand and started stroking, watching her lay prone and panting.

“Baby…” she hissed. “Please, honey. I want you. I need this.”

She was begging. Liz had never begged before. Never in our ten years of marriage had she ever been this desperate.

I clambered up onto the bed, kneeling next to her face and angling my cock so the shaft touched her lips. She puckered, pressing against the underside of my cock. Soft needy kisses. Warm and moist. Her whimpers were like the mewls of a kitten lapping at milk. The feel of her mouth on me was perfection, watching her strain against her bonds, trying to get closer, to suck at my shaft more firmly.

Adjusting my positioning, I fed the tip of my cock to her mouth, letting her lips slide along the head, opening and flicking her tongue against my slit. She sucked eagerly, whimpering more deeply as I let my hand move down between her legs, teasing her swollen clit.

“Mmmmm! Mmmmm!” She gently bucked against my fingers as I rubbed her slick folds, feeling her heat as her mouth suckled my cockhead.

I was beyond aroused, watching her suck my cock like one of those women in the movies we’d been watching. Her pussy was on fire, spasming gently with her arousal as I circled her clit. She continued to strain next against the bonds, their tight restraint seeming to arouse her more and more. I wanted to make this last, to enjoy this sudden wild side that had emerged. But my cock was painfully hard and begging to be sheathed into her warmth.

She gasped when my cock vanished. I moved down between her legs. All she had to go on was the movement of the bed. She was laying still, listening, waiting, breathing so rapidly she was beginning to resemble a hummingbird. I positioned myself between her spread thighs and aimed my cock at her entrance, feeling the heat. There was no foreplay, though I wanted desperately to tease and play. Instead, I pushed forward and slid in easily, straight to the hilt in one smooth motion.

“Ohhh! Ohhhh god!” Liz cried out, the kids completely forgotten as she let loose her moans of ecstasy. 

I tried to control myself, to go slowly. But she was too wet. Too needy. I took hold of her hips and began thrusting hard and fast. She grunted with every hard and deep thrust, her breasts bouncing and stomach tensing as I fucked deep into my wife. Liz arched her back as far as she could while she was held tight by the ties, bucking into me.

“Yes! Yes, honey…fuck…Alec…oh god Alec it feels so good!”

I barely registered my wife’s foul language. It was a rare moment in time whenever one of those four letter words crossed her lips. She was clearly excited beyond measure, and so was I. Liz was gorgeous as she writhed beneath me, taking me inside over and over. I felt her begin to tighten, spasm. Her orgasms were always gentle, like the tide coming in, washing all sense away.

Liz bucked into me and I thrust into her, our orgasms syncing. I felt her tunnel squeeze around me as I released my cum, shooting it into her depths as she whimpered and spasmed beneath me on the bed. It was powerful. Intimate. Overwhelming.

“That was amazing.” Liz whispered, cuddling up against me after I’d untied her. She pressed against me as tightly as she could, lips planting gentle kisses on my shoulder. “I… I can’t believe we did that.” She giggled.

I traced circles along her spine, over her shoulder blades, up to her neck. “Yeah… that was… different.” I chuckled.

She snuggled close. “You made me cum so hard.” The sound of her voice was drifting, her breath evening out.

I listened as she fell asleep and then felt exhaustion overtake me as well. 

…

We slept through our alarm. The kids woke us up by bouncing on the bed and screaming for breakfast. Thankfully, they didn’t pull the sheets off, otherwise, they’d have seen their parents naked and my morning erection that Liz had unconsciously grabbed a hold of while we were asleep.

Somehow we managed to get up, feed the kids, and get off to work. I made it into the office only a few minutes behind my usual schedule. For the rest of the day, I was plagued by daydreams of Liz, laying in our bed bound and blindfolded. Thoughts of sinking myself inside her and feeling how wet she was, how warm and wanting. We hadn’t had any time to talk about what happened. Rushing for breakfast and school didn’t lend a lot of time to dwell on our strange new experience.

I managed to make it through the day, though with a constant semi-erection. The drive home was uncomfortable, to say the least. I had a severe case of blue balls, and I knew that they weren’t going to go away unless I took care of myself or I could get Liz to help after the kids went to bed. The smell of chicken hit me as I walked in the door, finding Liz in the kitchen once more cooking up dinner.

She wore jeans and a light pink sweater, an apron tied on, standing in front of the stove, stirring some green beans. The look on her face was one of deep contemplation. I sat down heavily on one of the stools pulled up to our kitchen island and watched her, sensing something was amiss but not sure what.

“I had a visitor today.” Liz finally announced, turning off the stove and putting a cover on the pot to let the green beans simmer.

“Oh?” I straightened, all my fatigue suddenly washed away.

She cleared her throat as she turned, stepping up to face me on the other side of the island. “Rob. He came by this afternoon to thank us for dinner. He brought a bottle of wine,” she motioned to a bottle that looked very expensive, sitting on the counter next to the other bottles we had.

“That was…nice of him.” I spoke slowly, suspiciously.

“It was.” She smoothed her apron. “I invited him in for a drink. To talk. Be polite.”

I nodded, watching her closely as her cheeks darkened.

After a moment, her hands continuing to fuss with her apron, she looked up and met my gaze. “He made a pass at me.”

I froze. My heart stopped. I’d been suspicious of Rob, and not just because of the rumors. His own actions had made me anticipate the man’s more lascivious motives. But I never thought he’d move so quickly, or so bold.

Liz watched me, waiting for me to react. When I didn’t, she continued. “He squeezed my bottom…angled his hand between my legs. Said he’d like to…’get to know me better’.” She used air quotes, her blush deepening.

“Oh,” I muttered, breathless. “What…um, what did you say?”

She folded her arms under her breasts. “I laughed it off. Swatted his hand away. But he was serious.”

“Are… are you sure?” My mouth was so dry.

“He said he was serious, Alec.” She answered.

All the thoughts from the previous night came flooding back. Fantasies about Liz having sex with other men. Rob’s face. The worry about Liz wanting to take a lover. All the irrational, crazy, curious thoughts that I’d pushed aside and buried were now front and center.

Rob had made a pass at my wife. More than that, it seemed like he’d all but blatantly propositioned her.

I should have been furious, and truth be told, there was a part of me that was. There was a fire in my belly, and my fists were clenched with the desire to punch in the man’s smug smile. It’s what a ‘real man’ would do. At least that’s what I’d been told most of my life. But there was a strange, twisting serpent of curiosity slithering through my thoughts too. What was wrong with me?

“Okay…so, how do you feel about it?” I asked.

My wife’s gaze was on me, clearly seeing the conflict in my expression and strain in my words. “At first I was… shocked.” She bit her lip. “But it was also… exciting?” It was said like a question, as if she were still trying to figure out her feelings.

“Exciting.” I muttered.

“It’s flattering. Being chased by an attractive older man.” She admitted. “And he said he was serious, but he wasn’t really… pushy about it. If that makes sense. I mean, his intention was pretty clear. But he didn’t try to corner me. When I told him it was time for him to leave, he did without argument. He even thanked me for my hospitality. It was…I gave me this sort of emotional whiplash.” Her laughter was nervous, flustered.

An attractive older man. It wasn’t all that long ago Liz was saying he was ‘too old’. Now it had changed to ‘attractive older man’. The shift in her words would have been easy to miss if I hadn’t been paying laser focused attention. 

“Well, it’s probably best if you don’t invite him in again. At least not alone.” I offered, wanting to sound like I was trying to find a solution rather than paralyzed by this new development.

Liz nodded, but looked like she still had something to say.

“Liz? Did something else happen?”

She shook her head. “No. But he did say he’d like to meet with you. You know the wine bar downtown? Vivant Vino? He said he’d be there tonight and that if you wanted to meet him around eight, it’d be his treat.” She met my eyes, face blank.

“Meet with me.” I replied flatly. “After he made a pass at you…he wants me to meet him and treat me to a drink?” 

What sort of game was this man playing? Did he think that Liz would tell me and I’d want to beat him into oblivion? Well, he was partially right. I definitely wanted to give him a piece of my mind and maybe a hard punch or two. Was offering to meet me in a public place a peace offering? A way for us to talk about what he’d done, but protect himself from my wrath?

It certainly sounded like a safer option, rather than marching over to his house and pounding on the door, and making a scene. If Simon could hear about Rob moving in next door, then surely the news of him getting beaten to a bloody pulp by a neighbor would be much more engaging gossip. It could result in so many problems. Police. Fines. Court. Jail.

The man was sly, to say the least. He’d felt up my wife, then retreated to a safe space and offered an olive branch. Neutral territory. Wine to relax. A quiet place that would make it hard to yell. It would bring attention to me if I ranted and raved.

“Do you think he wants to apologize?” I asked.

Liz hesitated, crossing her arms and rubbing herself as if she were cold. “I don’t think he’s the sort of man who apologizes for going after things he wants.” She answered softly.

…

I arrived at the wine bar at eight sharp. It was a modern place decorated with hardwood and the deep, rich smell of multiple wines. The soft sound of glasses clinking, wine being poured, and whispered words created a soothing bubble around me as I made my way nervously across the bar to where Rob was seated.

He’d chosen a small two person table in the corner, away from the main traffic, with a measure of privacy. All very strategic. We wouldn’t be interrupted, and very few people would ever pass by, so our conversation would go unnoticed.

Dressed in a casual gray suit, Rob looked relaxed and confident. Not at all like a man who was waiting to be confronted by an irate husband. He nodded at me as I sat down across from him. An empty wineglass sat in front of me, which Rob quickly filled and then settled back, sipping his own glass.

My heart was hammering. But I kept my cool and took the offered glass, watching the man suspiciously.

“Thank you for meeting with me on such short notice, Alec. Hopefully, I didn’t upset your schedule. I understand that kids thrive on routine, and asking you out at this hour could leave your lovely wife having to wrangle them on her own.”

“Liz can manage just fine.” I answered flatly.

Rob chuckled. “Oh, I’m sure she can. She strikes me as a very capable woman. Strong. Independent. But a solidly dependable partner. You’ve found a good one, my friend.” He tipped his glass, clinking it lightly against mine.

I wasn’t sure what to say to that. He wasn’t wrong. Liz was amazing. And as harsh and restraining as her upbringing had been, she wasn’t some pushover housewife. She took care of things with ‌firm confidence and expectation. If she wanted something done, it was done. It’s why our house was clean. Why our kids were responsible for picking up after themselves—for the most part. She was the heart of our home. Which was probably why I was so angry but also intrigued by Rob’s obvious interest.

“Ahh. I can see it in your eyes. You’re upset with me,” Rob leaned forward, swirling his wine thoughtfully. “You have a right to be. Liz clearly told you what happened this afternoon.”

“She did.” I sat my glass down, afraid I might throw the wine in his face or smash it.

He nodded. “Yes, well, she was telling you the truth. And I’m glad she did. She’s an honest woman. Just another wonderful trait. Did she go into any detail? Or did she just give you the cliff notes?”

I glared. “I suppose she just gave me the cliff notes.”

“She probably didn’t want to upset you more than necessary. It’s true I made a pass at her. I grabbed your wife's very fine bottom, and I got a little feel between her thighs too. A very plump feeling pussy in those jeans. You’re a very blessed man.”

My eyes were wide as saucers. How could this man just so blatantly confess his indiscretion to me? He didn’t seem embarrassed. No shame. No apology.

“Do you not agree?” He raised an eyebrow, smiling playfully.

“I…uh…” I clenched my jaw. The last thing I wanted to be discussing with this man was how ‘plump’ my wife's vagina was. He wasn’t wrong, though.

“I like you, Alec,” Rob said suddenly, putting down his glass, suddenly very businesslike. I was clearly seeing the salesman persona coming out now. But the question was, what was he going to try to sell me?

Did he think I’d believe that Liz had asked for it? Would he try to persuade me that it wasn’t that big ‌a deal? That I should be flattered? What was his angle?

“You’re a very nice guy. I have a way of reading people, and I can tell you’re an honest, hardworking man. Good husband. Good father. Good employee. It’s admirable, and I’d count myself lucky to be called a friend.” He clasped his hands, leaning his elbows on the table and looked me square in the eye. 

“That being said, I’m going to be very straight with you because I respect you so much.” He cleared his throat as if he were about to make a magnanimous declaration. “I find Liz very attractive. Very desirable. She’s the sort of woman that appeals to my particular tastes, and because of that I intend to seduce her and make you a cuckold.”