The Author

My back was bothering me as I schlepped the bags and groceries in from the car, the cool air didn't help at all. But the AirBnB was beautiful, our redwood deck was perched on the lawn fifty feet above the pounding surf, gulls and sea lions provided the soundtrack. After our suitcases were stashed and I swallowed a couple Advil we explored the place, it was just as we had expected, hoped.

Our bedroom was large, hexagonal, three of the sides facing the ocean were floor to ceiling windows and doors, there was nothing between us and Hawaii except for steel-blue water. The bathroom was lush, shower big enough for two, we'd be comfortable in the king sized bed. We found the common room, fireplace and comfortable sofas and easy chairs, a kitchen you could cook Thanksgiving dinner in, dining table. On the patio was the hot tub, a requisite, I assumed, for the California Coast a hundred and fifty miles north of San Francisco. On the north-east side of the house was another bedroom, a carbon copy of ours we assumed, and on that patio a man was typing on a laptop.

"Hello," he said.

"Hi." We shook hands. "I'm Will, this is my wife, Terri. We rented here for three nights."

"I'm Jim. I'm here till next week. Make yourself at home." He gave the appearance of a man under a bit of stress, he concentrated on the screen in front of him. Understanding his need for privacy, we took our leave then slowly hiked to the beach three quarters of a mile off.

"He seems familiar, doesn't he?" asked my wife.

"I don't think so." The subject was dropped.

The water, of course, was much too cold for swimming, but in the lee of a cliff we sat and watched the waves sweep in for half an hour before we walked back to the house. The sun was perhaps an hour from the horizon, we found Jim on the common patio, a bottle of wine opened, some cheese. It was clear he had finished his writing for the day. "Join me," he offered.

He poured us wine, we started chatting. He was interested in us, asked how we got to this unfrequented cranny of the world. "We're on vacation, just finishing up a couple of weeks. We started in San Francisco, hit Crater Lake, Lassen and Redwood. We've got three nights here, then we'll have the weekend back in San Francisco before flying home."

"Sounds like a great vacation," Jim remarked. "A lot of driving. Is that why your back's bothering you?"

"I slipped crossing a stream in the redwoods this morning, the time behind the wheel didn't help."

"I think that hot tub will do him some good tonight," Terri added. "Where are you from?"

"I live in The City, I'm finishing up a book. I can't get any work done at home, the phone keeps ringing, so I found this place to get all the crap done that my editor and publisher are forcing me to do."

Suddenly the dial clicked in Terri's mind, you could see the 'Jackpot' sign. "James Lionel Pabey!"

Jim ducked his head, embarrassed by the recognition. "Guilty," he admitted.

Terri watched me fumble, trying to make sense of the information. "You know," she nudged, "Courtroom dramas. 'Stare Decisis and Other Myths'?"

I got it. Big time book writer, New York Times list, one of his novels had been made into a blockbuster movie.

"It's nice to meet you," Terri said to Jim. "So this will be, what, your twelfth book? What's it going to be about?"

"Thirteenth. Another trip down the corrupt halls of Washington and other capitals," he joked.

Realizing his discomfort I added, "So, this is a really beautiful place, isn't it?"

The conversation meandered after that, we stayed away from Jim's 'fame,' that seemed okay with him. He seemed to enjoy listening to our tales of a common life, two jobs, that many kids, retirement on the far horizon. We shared accounts of our travels, he told us of a drunken night in the Fado lounges of Lisbon, wanted to know what Pittsburgh was like, he'd never been there except on book tours.

As the sun dropped over the edge of the earth, it started to get hungry out. "I was going to cook tonight, pasta and chicken. There's plenty for three," Terri invited.

"You're sure I won't put you out? Usually I go into town, there's a pub there I like."

"No, really, there'll be more than enough. We're tired of eating out, surely you are too?" Jim agreed to let us cook, providing he could help with the dishes.

As we readied the food and table then ate, I watched the interplay between Terri and Jim. It was obvious there was attraction on both sides. Jim had a craggy face and active mind, I knew that's the kind of men Terri likes. As for Terri, well, I'm prejudiced. I love her golden brown hair, the animated face, the still lean body, the inquiring and intelligent personality. If that seemed interesting to Jim, I understood completely.

As we finished, the cool draft of ocean air wafted through the house, my back pain was exasperated. "It's time to get you in the hot tub," my wife commanded as we were placing the dishes in the washer. "Go get your trunks on."

Just as I was getting ready to head for the tub, Terri came in. "Jim is thinking of joining us in the jacuzzi, is that all right with you?"

"No problem," I said, and after she'd changed into a one-piece suit, she helped me limp to the patio. Jim was already there, he had the cover off and the jets on, he helped me stumble into the water, then gave his hand to Terri. We relaxed, Jim sat on the opposite side of the circular pool from us, big enough for six. I tried to get a stream of water to massage my aching back. Although the air was cool, somewhere in the low fifties, the water was warm, the sky black and clear. Thousands of stars winked at us, the moon was high in the sky, the surf, invisible in the darkness, announced it's presence by the whoosh it made crashing on the rocks below us.

"You're really hurting, aren't you?" Jim remarked. "If you'd like, I've got some Percocet."

I'd taken it before after an minor auto accident, had found it to be effective. "Yeah, that would be great, if you don't mind." Jim retrieved a few pills and a glass of water from his room, I swallowed one tablet. "You might need another in a few hours, keep it," he suggested, "and it'll probably make you sleepy."

The conversation was deep, Jim was telling us how he'd begun writing his first novel while still a lawyer. After fifteen minutes my head began to droop. "Come on, let's get you to bed," my wife ordered, and she helped me into the bedroom, dried me with a towel, slipped me under the covers. "Mind if I go back out and talk to Jim?"

"Of course not." With a kiss and a 'sleep tight,' she was gone and I slipped into slumber.

I woke sometime after one o'clock, staggered into the bathroom for another pill - my pain was even stronger, somehow - and since Terri wasn't in the bedroom, I poked my head out into the main room to find, with only one low lamp on, my wife talking to Jim. They wore the thick robes we'd found in our closet, seated on opposite ends of the couch. "Oh, you're up," Terri exclaimed, "Do you need anything?"

"No, I'm fine." I left the twosome and returned to the bed where I quickly fell off again.

In the morning when I woke, Terri was beside me, her nightgown covering her as she slept. I went out into the main room, made coffee. As it brewed I looked onto the landscape, now misty with a light fog, and saw that Terri's swimsuit was perched on a railing not far from Jim's.

Had something happened while I slept? Had my wife and her author been intimate? Through the remaining pain, I pondered the possibility. My wife had had several lovers in the previous years, I'd known, approved. It was a pleasant divertissement for both of us, Terri enjoyed the attention she received from her partners, different from that of a husband, I relished the situation because I love her to be happy and I was the beneficiary of her increased libido.

The smell of the coffee brought both Terri and Jim out of their dens, I watched the good mornings. Was there something intimate in their glances? No physical contact was made, yet as she bent to retrieve the half and half from the fridge, Jim was close beside her. Muffins were put on trays, fruit was sliced.

"How are you feeling?" Jim asked me.

"Better. A little. Still sore, but the pills helped me sleep at least. How late did Terri keep you up?"

"Oh, I went to my room a little after one." Was there evasiveness in his statement? Perhaps Terri had been in his room earlier, or went there when he did? If so, they were both being cool about it. Had Terri told him about our lewd hobby, or did he think she'd cheated on me?

After breakfast, Jim made his excuses, said he needed to get a good eight hours or more on his publishing chores, suggested dinner in town that evening. We agreed, told him we'd meet him at the cocktail hour.

As we showered, I rubbed soap over Terri's body - at least the upper half, my back was still too sore to bend - and observed her skin. Yes, the nipples were taut, was she thinking about him? The lower lips didn't seem to be inflamed, but hours had passed since she might have accepted a strange man there. And when she used the cloth on me, she laughed, "Well, you're ready this morning."

"Want to do something about it?"

"Sure!" We rinsed, dried each other, then slipped back into the bed. The techniques we used needed to be gentle because of my infirmity, but Terri soon came to a state of readiness, she came easily as I used my fingers on her, when we slipped into a position that placed no pressure on my back I sensed her orgasms, mine was quite pleasurable. For me, at least, the delight was heightened by the thought that she might have been with the author just hours before.

The day was spent relaxing, we headed to a state beach and a picnic. The sun through the haze felt good on my back. A dozen times I considered asking bluntly if anything had happened; I held back, my wife has always been honest about her cavortings, I didn't wish her to feel pressured. When we returned to the cottage mid-afternoon, Jim still pecked at his computer. We sat on our patio, reading, doing a cross-word puzzle, listening to the surf. Terri seemed pensive, she kept getting up and down. Something, I could tell, was on her mind.

Jim approached us. "I'll be going into town tonight for dinner. Would you care to join me? My treat."

Terri looked to me, our glances told all; after years of marriage, the looks can be almost telepathic. "We'd love to," Terri accepted.

"Well, I've still got a little bit of work to do yet. The deadline is Monday, so we'll leave about seven?"

"Great."

We had over an hour, my back was hurting again. Ibuprofen wasn't doing it, I didn't want to swallow the harder stuff due to the upcoming dinner. "I think I'll hit the hot tub."

"I'll join you," Terri agreed.

We got our suits on, Terri helped me into the foaming water. "This feels good," I said, savoring the warmth. "It sort of reminds me of the Caribbean, in a way." Terri looked to me, an apprehensive expression covering her face. "You remember that, don't you?"

"Of course I do. How could I forget?" It was at the Caribbean resort that Terri had first been involved with another man under the glare of a full moon.

"Have you heard from Jonathan lately?" I asked. He had been that initial lover. The first night he'd swept her to the dance floor and then, with my knowledge, to his bedroom. The following night the pattern had been repeated, Terri had relished the attention of the other man. After he'd left, she had turned her sexual attention to me, we'd been as busy as the proverbial rabbit.

"A couple of months ago. He'd like me to visit him in Chicago again." Every year or eighteen months, she wanted to get together with him. Most of the time it had been a long weekend at his place, once he'd come to Pittsburgh to be with us, he stayed in the guest room.

"If you'd like to go, you know it would be okay with me. And anything else you'd like to do," I hinted.

Terri gave me a hard look. "You think I slept with Jim last night, don't you?"

"It wouldn't be the worst thing that ever happened."

"Well, I didn't. Somehow, it just didn't feel right, with you lying in pain in the bed."

"Did anything happen, anything at all?"

"Oh, there was a vibe," Terri disclosed. "After you went to bed, I kept getting out of the hot tub to check on you. At some point, I complained to Jim that my suit was chafing. He said there was no need for me to wear it, he's been in plenty of hot tubs where everyone was naked. It made it seem like skin was no big deal. So I slipped out of it, right there in the water, Jim couldn't see anything, of course, it was so dark. The next time I checked on you - you were snoring so loudly - I got that big robe out of the closet. Jim and I were talking about everything, he's very comfortable to be with. You know, how we talked at dinner. Then when we decided we'd had enough of the water, Jim dried my back."

"Did he try to touch anything?" I interrupted.

"No, he was a gentleman. He suggested a drink, I said 'okay' and we sat on the couch. Really, that's all that happened."

"Would you have liked more to happen?"

"You mean, 'do I want to go to bed with him?' I don't know, maybe. He's handsome, but a little reserved. Maybe he doesn't want me."

"Of course he does. Tonight, make a move. I'll bet he accepts."

"We'll see. Maybe," she said inconclusively.

Jim drove us into Mendocino, ten minutes south, in his Infinity. Terri sat beside him in the passenger seat, I ignored the bumping of the road in the back seat. Terri had worn the only dress she'd brought on the trip, I could easily see her knees on the drive. I noticed Jim peeked at them once or twice. Jim's selection was an Irish pub, nothing fancy, a little boisterous. The hostess, a woman of our age, greeted Jim warmly, he was obviously a regular. We sat at a table, a bottle of wine, salad for Terri, seafood for us. Conversation was lively, mainly of his exploits in the courtroom. By the time we were returning home only a glow to the west indicated where the sun had set.

The hot tub was called for again, this time Terri made no bones about it, stripped in our room, just put the robe on, by the time we got there Jim was prepping it. "No need to wear our swimsuits tonight," Terri told him, she climbed in. It seemed a little chummier that night, Jim sat only a few feet to her left, she clung to my side between us. I'd taken ibuprofen, I relaxed. There was little talk, just three friends soaking quietly, within twenty minutes my head was nodding. "I'm going to bed," I announced, "no need to help me dear, I'm fine." After drying myself, I slipped between the sheets.

Sleep didn't come immediately, of course I wondered if Terri would take advantage of the situation. Every once in awhile, I'd get up, peek out the window to spy on the couple. Forty-five minutes later, I noticed that Terri was sitting on the side of the tub, the dim glow of a lamp in the common room displayed her naked back. A bit later, apparently, I dropped into slumber.

I awoke, my bladder full, the beside clock glimmered 11:07. Terri wasn't beside me. After taking care of my needs, I looked to the hot tub, it was empty. Cracking the door to the common room, I couldn't hear my wife's voice, no one was sitting on the sofa. My mind sprang to the possibility that she was in his room, I put on my robe, crept outside to the window of the other bedroom. There I saw a single candle illuminating a couple on the bed. One, of course, was my wife, the other the author. Her side was to me, she was astraddle him, leaning on her arms above him. In the dim light I could sense, rather than actually see, the movements of the pair, a back and forth rotation of her hips. I suspected Jim's wand was between her thighs, lodged inside her sweet channel. I heard nothing, of course, any groans or gasps that the couple made were drowned by the roar of the ocean and the closed door.

Knowing I was invisible to the couple I watched as they made love, I enjoyed my wife's dim body as it rose and fell, I understood by the way she pawed at her breast that she was orgasming, this was a tell-tale sign of her pleasure that I knew from our years of passion. I'm sure my sense of time was prolonged, it seemed long hours that they writhed together. Eventually they shifted, he rolled her over onto her back, then with her help mounted himself above her. I could sense the difficulty he had entering her again, with a hand he found the willing chasm, a push of his buttocks and she was penetrated anew. The lovers quivered together, through the windows I believed I heard the bedsprings creak with the exercise. As I watched Jim stiffened, stopped his movements, pushed again. My wife kissed him as he pumped his fluid into her, she held him tenderly, her knees to the sides of his hips, her body satisfying him.

This wasn't the first time I'd seen my love with a man, from time to time with Johnathan or Antonio she'd allow me to watch as she copulated. She knew I enjoyed the spectacle and she would perform admirably for my pleasure. But in those situations I always had the feeling that she was reserving a part of herself in the process, not allowing herself full pleasure. This night with Jim, when she was unaware that I was secretly witnessing her seduction, she seemed less of an actress, more of an inamorata.

As they spooned together in the post-climatic phase of their play, I padded away, not wishing to disturb them. Of course I couldn't sleep, thinking of the joy my bride was involved in, I tossed and turned. Less than half an hour after I'd seen Terri naked with Jim, she crept into our bedroom, I pretended to be in slumber. She closed the bathroom door to keep the light from my eyes, I could hear the sounds of her brushing her teeth. Moments later she slid into the bed beside me, her nightgown covering her, I stirred, she placed her back to my chest, sighed, It seemed scant moments that she was dropping to sleep, I kissed her neck, joined her in repose.

It was late before we woke on our last day in the house, as I returned from the bathroom I could tell she was rousing. She cuddled to me, "Good morning."

"It is, isn't it?" The thoughts of her infidelity had caused me to gain rigidness. She desired my love, she pulled the negligee from her body, she encouraged me to climb on top of her with little foreplay. My penis slid into her sleekly. "You're wet already," I commented.

"I should be," she gaily disclosed. "I was a bit of a bad girl last night."

I ceased any movement, allowing us to enjoy the sensation of being linked, asked, "How bad were you?"

"We made love."

"Tell me about it."

Terri knows my predilection for detail, it's part of the way we reconnect when she has been unfaithful. "After you went to bed, we talked in the hot tub awhile. Our feet touched, I don't think it was on purpose, and after I checked on you, when I came back, I sat a bit close to him, he shifted closer. We kissed then, petted for awhile. He was worried you'd wake up, I explained that we have our arrangement. We talked for quite awhile, sort of playing with each other before I asked him if I could go into his bedroom."

By this time, we were gyrating tenderly, she stopped her story to have an orgasm, I thought about her being filled with the sinew of another man, I didn't try to hold myself back, releasing vigorously into my wife.

When our pleasure was receding, I asked her to continue. "We made love for a couple of hours. He's quite good, he made me come hard a number of times. I didn't keep count."

"Did he come?"

"Twice. The first was soon after we started screwing, I could tell how ready he was, I told him to go ahead. Then we played and talked and I was able to get him hard again. We messed around for a long time then, finally he was able to have a second time. After that, I came to bed with you. You were sleeping, otherwise I'd have woken you up. You know how horny I get!"