INTRODUCTION
I'd got into the habit of reading the horoscopes in my daily paper; I don't mean all the stuff about Mars in Uranus or Venus ascending, just the predictions. It's not as though I believed in them (my wife, Lorna, tended to although she was reluctant to admit it), it was just a bit of fun. To be honest, as I started the final week of recuperation from my broken leg, virtually any form of diversion was welcome.
*
Tuesday 3rd November:
"Your financial worries may ease a little today, although you'll still need a long-term solution to them. An unexpected visit may help you to press forward with a special project."
**
The head of personnel at the company I worked for turned up at the house shortly after lunch. It was a bit of a 'bad news, good news' thing that he wanted to talk to me about face to face. The bad news was that, due to what he called 'a restructuring of resources,' all of the eight people in my department were to be made redundant at the end of the month. The good news was that I'd receive a very generous sum in severance pay -- the equivalent of almost two years' salary.
To be honest it wasn't unexpected. The company had lost its edge some time ago and we'd all been waiting for the axe to fall. Adam had the reputation of being an excellent personnel manager and I could see why. Rather than wait until I returned to work, or send a letter, he'd preferred to come and see me to explain it. As it happened, Lorna was at home and so she was able to hear it all at first hand as well.
He spent a long time with us as he carefully explained what it was all about and continually expressed his regrets that I was one of the ones to be dispensed with. I'd no idea why he was quite so concerned, since I don't think I'd spoken to him more than half a dozen times in all the years I'd been there. Eventually, though, the penny began to drop as I realised that he was extending his visit because of Lorna!
To be fair, my wife was looking very good; there aren't too many women approaching 50 who could get away with wearing such tight jeans and such a figure-hugging jumper without appearing vain, foolish, or downright embarrassing. Lorna, however, still had a figure that many much younger women would envy and it wasn't exactly obvious that she was the mother of two grown up kids and about to become a grandmother in a couple of months.
The thing that did surprise me was that, once I'd become aware of his interest, I also began to notice that she was responding to his attention in a subtly flirtatious way. This was definitely not in character.
Like many men, I had a desire to watch my wife enjoying sex with another man and Lorna had been aware of that for many years. It was something she'd never taken too seriously, but she had been willing to indulge my fantasies with a bit of play-acting. Unfortunately, it had never done much for her because, as she explained, the man she tried to imagine being with was always vague and anonymous. She would need to 'personalise' it, she explained, but she'd never met any other man that she could really envisage sharing a bed with.
"So... what was all that with Adam?" I asked her when our visitor finally left.
"What was all what?" she replied, totally failing to achieve the innocent look she was striving for.
"Oh, come on!" I grinned, "You were practically drooling over each other!"
"We... I wasn't..." she started to insist and, for a second or two, it seemed as if she was going to keep up the pretence; then she suddenly blushed and giggled, saying; "Well... he is a bit dishy, isn't he?"
"Dishy?" I queried, "He just came round her to fire me!"
"And he was arranging a very nice lump sum for you! I thought he was really sweet."
To be fair to him, I'd never heard any of the staff complain about Adam. Everyone seemed to like him and I knew there'd been a lot of sympathy extended when his wife had died just over a year earlier. From the way he'd eyed up Lorna, though, I guessed that his mourning period was over.
When we went to bed that night, it soon became clear that my wife was in what she referred to as a 'frisky' mood. We made love with her on top and, unusually, all the lights out. It was much more intense than usual; Lorna was certainly as excited as I could ever remember her being, and her cries and moans of pleasure were music to my ears.
As we lay, cuddled up in each other's arms afterwards, I said, "I'm guessing that you finally managed to 'personalise' that fantasy of mine, then?"
"Mmm... yes," she whispered, and giggled as her hand began to work some reviving magic on me. "Yes, I really did... Adam!"
**
Wednesday 4th November:
"You receive a welcome boost to your future career prospects although it will require some flexibility to take a new direction. A partner makes a suggestion that may surprise you."
**
I was on my own -- Lorna was shopping at the supermarket -- when there was an unexpected phone call from an old friend. Bill Johnson had worked in my office many years earlier; in fact, he'd been something of a protégée of mine and he'd eventually left to set up on his own. To say he'd been successful would be a considerable understatement.
After the usual exchange of greetings; him calling me a 'grumpy old bastard' and me referring to him as an 'ugly young punk,' he got down to business. "Your company's firing, mine's hiring," he said, then went on to offer me a job. The package was an excellent one, with only a couple of downsides: I'd have to retrain on the much more up-to-date system he used, and I'd have to commute a fair distance.
Naturally, I didn't want to reveal my enthusiasm too quickly so I stalled with a few questions. The only surprising upshot of that came when I asked him how he knew I'd be available. "I had a call from Adam Williams, he knew I'd be interested." he told me
Then he suggested that I should come to his place to discuss the details on Friday night. I explained that I still wasn't allowed to drive, but he said, "So? Get your lovely wife to drive you to the railway station and I'll have a car meet you at this end. Oh... and bring a toothbrush... I'm going to drink you under the table, so you won't be getting home 'til Saturday!"
I was definitely excited. The offer was a good one, I'd always got on well with Bill, and the prospect of a boozy night had a certain appeal, too. When I told her, Lorna was almost as thrilled as I was.
"You're a quick learner, so you won't have any problem with a new system," she said, "and there's no reason to do all that commuting. We could sell up here -- this house is far too big for just the two of us anyway -- and buy a smaller place over there."
"You'd be okay with that?"
"Definitely... it's a nice area. We could easily get a 2 or 3 bedroom place... and make a profit on the deal. It wouldn't even be as far for me to travel to work."
Things were moving fast and all the pieces seemed to be dropping perfectly into place. We ate the dinner I'd prepared, listened to a couple of radio programmes we enjoyed and then, as we began to get ready for bed, Lorna said;
"Okay, Lover... are you going to pretend I'm Eve?"
"What? Why?" I asked, falling for it completely.
"Because I'm going to pretend you're Adam," she laughed, putting an arm around my neck to draw me in for a kiss while her other hand reached for the front of my trousers.
**
Thursday 5th November:
"It's a good day for business, either buying or selling, although you may feel that events are moving so fast it's making you dizzy. Your love-life will receive an unexpected boost and someone close will have a surprise for you."
**
I spent much of the day staring at the computer screen and discovering that Lorna had been absolutely right. There were plenty of smaller, detached houses in the area we were looking to move to and, judging from a recent sale of a neighbour's house, we were likely to make an excellent profit on the deal. I even remembered to book my train journey on line so I'd be sure of a seat amongst all the Friday night commuters.
From the moment Lorna arrived home -- she'd been to lunch with a friend -- she was sending clear signals that, no matter how much she might enjoy the meal we were preparing together, her real appetite wouldn't be satisfied until later. We'd been together a long time -- our 30th wedding anniversary was on the horizon -- and our relationship had, despite the usual ups and downs, been pretty good. But I couldn't recall a time when she'd been as consistently randy as this since our first few weeks together.
I noticed that she'd had her hair done (God help the husband who doesn't!) and it was now a much lighter shade of brown, with no sign of the silvery roots I remembered seeing at breakfast time.
When we made love that night it was almost brutally intense; much more like pure, raw sex than anything else. Afterwards, when we were both exhausted, I turned on the bedside lamp and said, "You're really getting into this, aren't you?"
"Isn't that what you wanted?" she teased, "Why... is there something wrong?"
"No... not at all," I grinned, "I mean... I'm definitely doing okay out of it... believe me!"
"Good! So... what were you thinking about while I was pretending it was Adam who was... errm...?"
"Fucking you?"
"Yes... fucking me!" she giggled, always a little uncomfortable with crude words, "So?"
"So? Oh, I see... well, I was thinking pretty much the same. I mean, I was pretending it was Adam who was getting stuck into you. It's not too difficult when you keep screaming his name, y'know!"
"I was not screaming," she insisted with mock severity, "merely adding a word or two of encouragement!" Then, before I had a chance to correct her, she kissed me and said;
"Listen, Davey... I want to be really serious for a little while... okay?"
"Errm... okay," I replied, with no idea of what was to come.
"Right... well... about this fantasy of yours...."
"Ours, now, I think!" I interrupted.
"Well, yes... you're probably right," she admitted, "But I want to ask you something about it."
"Fire away!" I told her, feeling a strange sense of apprehension.
"Okay... well... what I mean is... are you content with it being just a fantasy?" she asked, her words barely audible as she nuzzled against my neck.
"Why... aren't you?" I asked.
