"Is it because she's almost half your age?"
"Somewhat, but not really -- after all, there's a deep age gap between you and me."
"Okay..." I decided to change tactics. "So why wouldn't you have sex with Denise?"
His answer was swift. "Because of you."
My heart melted. "That's admirable, but really, please, just think about it, okay? At least promise me you'll consider it?"
"I promise."
"Good."
"But if I do have sex with her, I just hope that it doesn't change anything between you and me."
"It won't," I assured him. "It won't."
*****
The appointed day finally arrived. Denise's father would be gone for three days on a business trip, and while Fred was at work, Denise and I prepared. I took her with me to get our hair and nails done, to buy some nice lingerie, and to find the perfect candles. Then she went home long enough to enjoy a relaxing bath before she came back across the street to fix dinner while I prepared.
When Fred arrived, he found two young women awaiting him, each dressed in tasteful lingerie with nice makeup and freshly-manicured nails and bouncy hair. Throughout the meal, his eyes kept roaming from Denise's body to mine, and I must admit that I found Denise's blushes rather endearing. Fred's eyes upon me were making me wet with anticipation about the evening, and I was not even the one who was going to be fucked.
After dinner, we sat together on the sofa, with my husband the meat in a woman sandwich. With each arm around a different seductively-clad woman, with each woman slowly caressing him and leaning against him, he was definitely enjoying the attention as evidenced by the growing lump in the front of his slacks. I kept looking to Denise to determine her mindset, and she was becoming more and more at ease with this, which was exactly what I wanted to see happen.
Eventually, I took my leave, heading to the bedroom to make the final preparations. The candles were lit and began to fill the bedroom with a soothing herbal scent. The pillows were fluffed to better ensure the comfort of those about to rest their heads upon them. The curtains were drawn to ensure that any nosy neighbors definitely could not see what was about to take place within these walls. The condoms were placed in easy-to-reach locations. And the portable CD player with the small speakers was set to play romantic piano jazz music.
I stepped out of the bedroom, just in time to see my husband pick up our young neighbor. There was nervousness in her eyes, as one would expect, but there was also a pleasant resolve and a sense that something long desired was about to be attained. Standing aside, I gave them both a comforting smile as they passed me in the hallway, watching them until the bedroom door closed and I could hear our young friend being gently settled on the bed.
For probably an hour, I leaned against the wall outside my own bedroom. At first, it was so quiet that I could only imagine what Denise's first time was like. But then I began to hear more: the soft sound of the bedsprings, a soft moan, a whispered instruction... My body was remembering my first time, and my hands were reacting to my thoughts of the past and the sounds of the present. I knew when the blood was spilt, and shuddered in sympathy and in memory, but was thankful when the feminine sounds soon changed from pain to pleasure. Somehow, I was able to hold back my orgasm until I heard Denise's pleasure finally peak. Crumpled on the floor of the hallway, I convulsed from the release, and almost missed the telltale growls of my husband's desire being realized.
*****
In bed that night, beneath the freshly-washed linens, my husband's lovemaking was particularly inspired. At age twenty-eight, I may only have been ten years older than the woman he had enjoyed just hours earlier, but I was just young enough that he probably envisioned me as "another Denise," and, at least for that night, that was a role which I was more than happy to play for him.
