I called Adrian from work the next morning, Thursday, at around 10:00 o'clock. I asked him if we could fit in a special photo session involving only Nancy and him sometime before the regular Wednesday night session. He said he'd be happy to do it and suggested coming by the house on Saturday afternoon.
Then I called Nancy at the art gallery. She said Saturday wouldn't work for her because she just realized she was getting her period. The photo shoot would have to wait until she was done. I asked her when she thought this would be. Monday for sure, she thought. Maybe even Sunday.
I called Adrian back and explained the problem. He said he could be free on Monday evening, so we scheduled his one-on-one session with my wife for 7:00 p.m. I told him I was having dinner with her that night. Would he like to join us at about 6:00 o'clock? He said yes and agreed to meet us at a Chinese restaurant near our house.
Over the weekend, waiting for Monday evening, Nancy and I went over the photos I'd taken of her during the Wednesday shoot. She was impressed with how surprisingly authentic the costuming was. She especially liked the broad shot I took of Glen eating her cunt while Karsten caressed her breasts. It was the highlight of the shoot, as far as she was concerned. She thought the photo of Adrian's cock in her mouth looked more like comedy than sex.
"It doesn't look quite real, somehow," she said. "I know it is real, but, I don't know, I guess it's just the size of the thing."
I had to ask: "Do you think it's too big? Would you mind him fucking you?"
"If he takes his time, it should be all right. And I'll have to use a lot of gel."
Since Nancy was having her period most of the weekend, we didn't have regular intercourse. She sucked my cock several times, though, and, on Saturday night, I had anal sex with her. Afterwards I asked her if she'd let an eighteenth-century rogue ass-fuck her.
"Not Adrian," she answered, laughing. "At least, not unless I get so turned on I'm temporarily out of my mind."
"Do you think it would hurt?"
"I don't know," she answered. "I'm not even totally confident about taking that big thing into my vagina. But we'll see."
We had an early run around the neighborhood and a shower before going to our jobs on Monday morning. I've gained about ten pounds in the past year and I'm trying to firm up some. Nancy's already firm and wants to keep that way.
I called her at the gallery from work at noon. She was eating a take-out lunch at her desk. She mentioned that Karsten had dropped by to chat and that she felt disloyal to him for not mentioning what she and Adrian would be doing that evening.
I felt like giving her a hard time, so I asked innocently, "Oh? And what exactly are you and Adrian going to be doing later tonight?"
She laughed and said Adrian and she were going to have dinner with me, of course. Then she rang off.
I got home at about 5:30. Nancy had just arrived and was trying to decide whether or not to change clothes. She was wearing her usual work outfit, a long skirt and a blouse under a long coat. "After dinner I'll be coming back here and getting into costume," she said. "So I guess there's no need to change."
"Well, I guess you'll be in your costume to start off with. But for a lot of the session you and Adrian will be pretty much naked. Of course, he'll keep his wig on and you'll wear your cap to signal the difference in social class, the power imbalance."
"Good grief!" Nancy exclaimed with mock seriousness. "We're not just doing art. We're doing social commentary! We've come a long way from ordinary fucking, haven't we?" We both laughed more than we should've at this little joke. I think our laughter was masking underlying nervousness about what would happen after dinner.
When we got to the Chinese restaurant, Adrian was already there. For some reason (nerves?), I wasn't very hungry, but Nancy had a good appetite and so did Adrian. As we ate we talked about everything but the photo shoot. I learned that Adrian had good politics and that he was on the verge of dropping out of art school and going to work for an architect.
We also talked briefly about what had happened in the first photo shoot. Nancy confided in us that she'd been self-conscious about having been brought to orgasm in front of other people so quickly. "With my husband," she half-whispered to both of us, "I sometimes have trouble having one. But this guy I don't even know β Glen, isn't it? β when he got between my legs I was almost immediately gone!"
Neither of us said anything for a while, and my wonderfully inventive wife continued: "The fact is for years I was very, very orgasmic. It's only recently that, you know, I've had trouble. I think it might have something to do with our financial troubles."
This conversation point certainly concentrated Adrian's attention. He began looking at my wife as though he wanted to have her for dessert (which, in a sense, we all knew he would). Since he believed she was merely a model working for me, he had no reason to suspect that his attentions to her would make me jealous. And my feelings about his leering at her weren't just jealousy, though there was some of that. They were an odd mixture of pride, lust, jealousy, self-disgust, self-congratulations, and eerie detachment (as though I wasn't really sitting there in the restaurant).