They ordered food and she pushed her egg rolls around her plate, nibbling occasionally, sprinkling soy sauce, all idle gestures that meant little. The... talked of work and politics. He mentioned a bar on the other side of the city. She commented that she’d never been there. He noted that the deep red paint on her lips didn’t come off on the edge of her coffee cup, didn’t smudge on her napkin. Everything was carefully precise about her makeup, while her hair remained wild, the collar on her shirt. I think the first time I wrote a note was a day following a session where my wife asked me what I was thinking about. I really felt I could not tell her the honest truth, despite the fact that I really wanted to. So, the next day I took the plunge and did so, writing her a vivid description of how I imagined her flirting with other men and how that thought turned me on immensely and gave me intense orgasms. To my delight she was equally turned on. She asked me about my wanking habits and. She had a glass shower, with very expensive gold knobs and marble. I then followed her into her bedroom. She laid on her bed, as her husband kept mowing there lawn. She was fingering her pussy again, as I looked down to see my cock explode on the floor next to my feet. A few minutes later her husband walked into there bedroom. She kept trying to grab him. He walked fast out of there room to there bathroom. He closed the curtain to the bathroom. I panned back to see her orgasm again from her. I wouldn't want Dave to see him like this. I went back down to the kitchen and sent the girls up to Kenzie's room. I listened for the sound of the garage door opening and waited. Time seemed to stop. I swear I looked at the clock every ten minutes to find that only a minute has passed! It seemed like hours before I heard the sound of the garage door opener.I jumped up and got a beer from the refrigerator. I opened it and poured in a dose of Columbian Devil's Breath. I was even more tempted to.