"I can't imagine you two doing it," said Taz.
She'd said it many times over the years.
Taz and my wife had been friends since they were teenagers. Not that they were from the same school or neighborhood -- far from it. Nichole (Nicky) was a smart, sheltered Harlem girl, who graduated from high-school two years early with all her teeth and no children.
Taz was a wise-ass lesbian Jersey Jew. When she turned 16, she got the hell out of her house. (I did something similar, except for the lesbian part.)
'I can't imagine you two doing it."
They met at work. Both girls were smart and hardworking, and always had some money. Taz, although several years younger, seduced Nicky. She was a force of nature.
Nicky had fooled around a bit with girls, but this was more than that. It is not generally known. It was hot but brief, and they stayed best friends. I never asked for details. I didn't meet them for ten years.
As a hetero white guy, in New York I am normal. Anywhere else, I'm a real oddball, but in NY i'm normal, so here I can relax. This made me peculiar enough to amuse Taz, so we got along fine; she's our daughter's godmother.
"I can't imagine you two doing it."
She didn't start saying it 'til after we were married, thank god. But then she said it rather often over the years.
At first I could see her point. Nicky was small and round and dark, and I was long and angular and Irish pale. But after a few years it began to irk. Then I had my idea.
You all know my idea by now, right? I wanted to fuck my wife in front of Taz. I wonder if Taz was thinking the same thing. Nicky and I both said it was just a joke.
So I bided my time, and the planets aligned. Finally one day my perfect chance came. Just the three of us in Taz's co-op. "I can't imagine you two doing it."
At once I started getting hard. 'Twas Pavlovian.
"You've mentioned that," said I.
"Yeah, and you still haven't showed me." I got harder.