Every Picture Tells a Story Pt. 02

Note to readers: Read Part 1; you will enjoy this so much more if you do. This work continues my effort to challenge tropes around infidelity and explore desire from different perspectives. Per usual, it does not fit easily into a single category.  

My phone chimed. It was Mary, my wife. "Hey," I said.  

"Pete, can you come home early tonight?" she asked. "Don't worry, everything's OK." 

In the almost year since Mary broke things off with Bill, we'd seen lots of changes.  

We didn't see much of Bill these days. He kept a friendly, respectful distance, but we learned his Quick-Oil-Change business was growing and expanding. He was even opening up a second location. We heard he still dated frequently, now a better class of women, but it never went very far. I suspected he was still feeling the hurt from his first wife's betrayal.  

Or maybe he was in love with someone else?

Mary was teaching graphic design at the university. She had a real talent for photo editing, telling stories with images, and it really brought out the best in her.  

My data consulting career took off, but oddly enough, it was partly due to the fact I refused to work after 5 p. m. or on weekends. My wife came first, always. At work, I became a rare commodity, in demand. My income increased, and I was able to become more selective about the jobs I took, traveling less, and devoting more time to my marriage.  

The results were undeniable: Mary and I were great. Things between us were never better, her affair with Bill was now a distant memory. We were now dedicated to each other. In bed, I really focused on her, trying to pick up her non-verbal clues and respond. Each time we made love, I wanted it to be more exciting than the last.  

We started to be more spontaneous with each other, too. I'd surprise her in the kitchen by kissing her and massaging her butt or even pussy from behind, and she'd sneak in and blow me in the shower. We'd find a secluded section of the parkway and pull over to make out, or even something more daring.  

And then, there was our date night. Date Night! We'd plan it carefully, then for hours, or even days in advance, we'd both tease and tantalize each other, share sexy giggles and sultry whispers, each glance a promise, each tender touch igniting a spark, building desire between us.

Then, the main event, fancy dinner, show or concert, vacation, or trip. When we finally made it to our bedroom, clothes would be ripped off, and we devoured each other like lovers possessed, lost in a marathon of ecstasy, every moan and caress, unleashing unrestrained bliss. A marathon of intense sexual pleasure. Yes, we are good now.

Tonight, however, she met me in the kitchen, took me in her arms, and kissed me. "Pete, I'm feeling weak," she admitted. I paused for a moment, and I knew what she meant.  

"Bill's been on your mind?" I asked with a tinge of apprehension. She nodded, timidly.  

"Well, you do have a giant picture of him naked hanging in our garage," she reminded me. "I see it every day." 

"Yeah, that joke is spent. I'll take it down," I offered.

She put her hand on my face. "Not yet, maybe," she hinted. "Let me show you something." 

Mary showed me what she'd been up to on her graphic design station. She had several of the pics Bill had taken of them having sex on the screen. Some were snapshots, and some were converted into artistic edits, dramatic or even avant-garde. "I was making a photo book of our lives, and I came across these on your old phone," she told me. "I had many on my phone too, and I'm sure Bill had hundreds. Taking pictures of us, making me pose, pretending he was exposing me, and threatening to post them online for anyone to see was one of his kinks... being exposed and photographed was one of mine." 

Seeing those images again, recalling the betrayal I felt, their affair had me questioning my very manhood. Beneath my calm, confident façade, long-buried feelings of shame and envy crept back to the surface. I thought I'd moved past these emotions, but had I? In every image, Mary glowed--smiling, laughing, lost in pleasure, or reveling in ecstasy. It wasn't just the raw eroticism or the forbidden thrill of her affair. It was the undeniable truth etched in her expression: Bill ignited something in her I didn't, perhaps never could. As I glanced at her now, the same spark danced in her eyes, each photo calling to mind those moments.

She stood close to me as each of those pictures appeared on the screen and faded away, replaced by the next in the rotation. Mary's hand fell lightly onto my penis over my slacks, feeling it get harder, as we watched.

"I'd like to make a book of that experience and of our reconciliation, of that time in our lives," she said and sighed, "The eroticism, the story those pictures tell, is very powerful." 

I was hesitant--it was a painful memory. For me, at least.

"I texted Bill to see if he still had his old phone, and he did. I asked him, and he agreed to give me the originals, hundreds of them," she informed me. "The stills, movies, and audio--all of it. I want it," she whispered into my ear, her warm breath punctuating her meaning. I knew what she was really asking.

I closed my eyes and visualized them together, those pictures revealing so much joyful bliss on her face, how passionate she sounded on that fateful phone call! God, she was electric with him, alive! I wanted that for her.  

And yet, those images still haunted me.

"We should invite him over tonight," she said. "Do you think he'll agree?" she asked, playfully.  

"Agree?" I chuckled in spite of myself. "Are you kidding? I feel bad for anyone who gets in his way!" I quipped.  

Then I got serious. "Should I get a hotel room?" I asked, uncertainly, unsure of the role she had in mind for me.  

"No, Pete, I want you here," she insisted. "I want to do it right this time. What do you think?"

I kissed her. "It sounds exciting, babe," I assured her.  

I reflected on where I now found myself: Mary, my wife, had just informed me she wanted to fuck an old flame. A year ago I'd have been crushed, jealous, and angry about even the suggestion. What a difference the last year has made! I loved her, she loved me, and nothing would change that. I wasn't worried. In fact, I was strangely calm, as if her admission only affirmed the strength of our bond.

"You know, when I broke it off with him, it stopped, but never really concluded. I miss him, Pete," she confessed.  

"So, do you want to be with him for closure?" I posited, taking a deep breath. "Or, to restart things?" I wondered out loud.

Mary replied, "I honestly don't know, Pete. But we can't just NOT know." 

Inwardly I agreed. Ever since I learned about her affair, since I was told about it, and she ended it, it felt like a shadowy feeling of self-doubt, an open secret we both refused to address. Mary must have suspected it too--it had gone on long enough now. I needed to face it, defeat it, and banish that ghost forever.  

I smiled at her, then picked up my phone and called Bill for the first time in a long time. He answered quickly. "Bill, are you free for dinner tonight?" I asked.  

Bill arrived later that evening. When she heard the doorbell, Mary started down the stairs excitedly. I opened the door for him. Bill, grinning, sported a suit jacket. He had brought containers of takeout from three of the best restaurants in town.  

"Hi, Pete," he said simply, "I brought dinner." He shook my hand warmly and eagerly. I felt my affection for him return at once.  

"Bill," I began, "I'll take the picture in the garage down. I think the joke has run its course."

Bill laughed and told me, "No hurry, bro. In fact, that picture is bringing me good luck! Tough guys give me space now, and women, especially younger women, are incredibly turned on by it. That picture, or rumors of it, has gotten me laid more times than I can count!" 

Bill immediately busied himself laying out the meal and a bottle of excellent wine. Just then, he turned and saw Mary.  

Mary looked incredible, wearing a black silk dress that was split up one side from the hem to the neck, the opening barely held together by thin silver chains, a hint of Japanese design. Every time she moved, the dress threatened to expose her breasts or her inner thighs; she wore no underwear. The dress was designed to be provocative, but it was only a tease. Instead of heels, she wore embroidered black slippers, which seemed to complement the dress perfectly. Her hair was done up in tiny braids that met in a kind of ponytail. Her make-up was perfect, giving her an alluring, mysterious air. Bill was floored by the sight of her. He almost dropped the unopened bottle of wine, which fell over on the table and spun slowly.  

"Hello, Bill." Mary vamped. "Hungry?" She walked over to him, put her arm around him, and then looked back at me, a sexy grin on her face and a mischievous look in her eyes.  

Bill tore his eyes from her and looked over to me. "Pete, are you sure you're OK with this?" he wondered aloud, maybe even unsure himself.  

"Bill, Mary and I are good, real good, confident in our feelings for each other." Mary smiled, gently nuzzling Bill's neck. "This time, there are no secrets, no agendas," I explained.  

Mary took his face, turning it to hers, and added, "No holding back." 

"You look incredible in that sexy dress," Bill observed. Mary twirled to show it off. She returned to his side, like a dancer, clinging to him, her breathing getting heavier. His eyes were following her breasts as she moved.

"I've missed you," he whispered in her ear, lowering his head, his hot breath on her neck.  

Mary softly replied, "Yes," as Bill slowly and lightly kissed her neck. Bill held her, his hands on her sides, near her breasts. She sighed a little with a gentle moan, turning slightly. Gently, his left hand moved up her dress to cup her left breast, and slowly and lightly, he ran his hands over it, feeling it through the silky material, as he kissed up her neck to pause at her ear.

I had never seen my wife seduced before as a third party. It was fascinating to watch her arousal increase and her desire slowly dominate her caution. Nor had I ever seen Bill seduce anyone. Typically, he'd have some girl hanging off him or several women competing for his affections. This was new.  

His hand slid up the silky material to her shoulder. Mary's hand sought out his fingers and unclasped the strap, causing the material to droop and fall away, exposing her pale breast, her large nipple already erect and hard.

Breathing heavily now, Mary's body reacted sensually as Bill's kisses traced down her neck to her exposed breast. Her left hand moved up to hold his head, eager for his touch, while he wet his lips, kissed, and teased her beautiful nipple. Her eyes closed slightly now, her head tilted back as she gently bit her bottom lip. He licked her hard nipple, sucked it, then blew across it. "Yes," she moaned softly. She pulled his head into her breast, eager for more.

I could see his other hand running up and down her thigh where her dress was split, moving ever higher and higher. She moaned softly now as his hand ran up to and disappeared under the dress.

Mary moaned and responded gently to his touch. She turned her head slightly to the side and sighed softly. Bill's hands touched her nipples lightly, and he kissed her neck again.

This slow-burn tease and foreplay were getting me hot as hell. I had to admit: they were beautiful together.

We barely touched dinner when Mary seemed like she could not take the teasing anymore. She took Bill's hand and mine and led us into the bedroom. Pausing at the door, Mary looked over at me and purred, "Bill first?" I grinned and nodded, taking a seat in the chair next to our bed.

Bill backed Mary up to the bed, lowering her into a semi-sitting position. With his left hand under her dress, her legs eased apart; he moved his hand up further and further. Mary gasped and sighed, "Oh, oh, yes," as his hand rose higher and higher. He gently moved her dress up to the top of her hips, even as she raced to unclasp it. She had no panties on; his hand cupped her pussy gently, and his finger traced the folds of her sex.

"Oh... you're so wet already, such a bad girl!" Bill admonished, grinning, and continued to massage her pussy, watching her adulterous reaction as she eagerly surrendered to him. Her knees were relaxed, spreading wider, welcoming his attention. Bill must have slipped a finger inside her and slowly started to finger her pussy.

Mary clawed at Bill's shirt, loosening his belt and tugging his pants open. Bill stepped back and tore at his own clothes, hastily tossing his shirt aside and kicking off his shoes and slacks.  

For a brief instant, Bill stood there naked, his muscular body already glowing with a light sheen of sweat, his hard penis bouncing as he moved. I'd never seen another man's cock hard in person, and never a close friend like Bill. It was surprisingly arousing.

Bill grabbed and squeezed her breast, running his other hand up her leg, exposing her tanned thigh. He opened her legs, displaying her for me, showing us both what he was about to take.  

"You like being watched, don't you, slut? Your husband is watching, right there. Do you like having his permission to be a slut, knowing you are fucking your stud right in front of him? Don't you? Make him tell me to fuck you!"

Mary looked over at me, her eyes desperate, almost pleading. "Pete! Please make Bill fuck me! Please?" 

Shocked out of my passive role, I shouted, "Fuck her, Bill! Fuck my wife!" 

Bill grinned, "You got it, bro!" and moved between her legs.

"Yes! Yes! Watch him fuck me, husband! Watch me come on his cock!" 

Bill pulled my wife's knees up, his dick slipping into her ready opening. She gasped at first in shock, then her legs wrapped around his torso, and she pulled him in close.

Bill picked up right where they left off a year ago. He was wild and aggressive, and Mary responded as she had before. Only this time I could see it as well as hear it.

"Oh... your pussy is so wet for me, you naughty slut!" Bill grinned, "You really did miss my big cock!" He started pumping in and out of her.  

"Yes! Yes! I've missed it, oh, god yes! Fuck me!" she begged, "Fuck me hard!" 

I had flashbacks of the phone call that started everything. This time it wasn't shock, but desire I felt.

He degraded her and exposed her, both of them base, sexual animals, free from pretense and the mask of persona. It was incredible to witness, so sensually powerful.

"Take the big cock, you slut! Your pussy feels so good! So hot!" Bill taunted her. His muscular body rising and falling, hers yielding and pulling him deeper.

She lay back, submissive, letting him fuck her like a rag doll. I could hear her weak little whimpers, her cries of pleasure, as Bill focused on pounding his meat into her. Within a few more minutes, her moans became grunts and squeals, growing in frequency and volume. She wriggled and struggled, but there was no escape. The sounds got more intense as her hips began to move in time with his. He was like an animal, and she was a plaything, a fucktoy.  

With Bill, she was more passive, letting him use her body and dominate her. She climaxed over and over, but he seemed to not notice, focused on his own pleasure.  

I could understand her desire. Bill wasn't necessarily better--he was different: wild and unleashed.  

They were amazing to observe. We were different, but each was exciting, and each gave her intense erotic sensations.

I understood now: Mary needed us both. Maybe I did suspect this before but wasn't ready to admit it? But she knew I would--maybe she did know me better than I knew myself.  

"I'll fuck your hot pussy anytime I want. It's mine to fuck. Say it!" 

"Oh, god, yes! Fuck me, fuck my pussy! Anytime, just fuck me! Yes!" she begged, breathlessly.

"Are you going to come for me, slut?" Bill demanded. Mary could do nothing but moan or whimper and cry, "Yes! Yes! Yes!"

Bill pressed her father, "Are you going to suck my big cock? Show your husband what a good eager cock sucker you are. What a hot slut you can be!" 

"Yes! Yes! Yes! Anything you want! Just fuck me!" Mary pleaded, desperately.  

"I'm going to come..." she moaned raggedly, almost helplessly. "Oh god... I'm going to come."

Mary's legs were trembling. Her cries become louder and more intense. Her whole body was shaking. Bill didn't give her an orgasm--he took it from her, brutally ripping it out of her very body.

I suddenly realized that I was rock hard, my cock pressed painfully against my pants. I slipped out of my clothes slowly and discreetly.

My cock sprang free, slapping against my abdomen. I thought it might ejaculate by itself, explode just watching the two of them. I didn't even touch myself for fear of breaking the moment.

Bill grunted, his body rigid, driving his cock deep into my wife, filling her pussy with his seed. "Uh, God! Oh, fuck yes!" He held her tightly, then collapsed, rolling off to her side, done with her now, panting and grinning.

Bill and Mary lay next to each other, sweaty and catching their breath, for a few moments. Mary crawled between his legs, taking his semi-hard and glistening dick into her mouth, sucking it gently for a few minutes, as if thanking him. Then she sat up, slapping his ass and saying, "Move over, lover. I need my husband now!"

Bill got up, walked over to the chair where I sat, his semi-hard dick bouncing like a spring, then jerked his thumb into the air at me, grinned, and announced, "She's ready for you, bro!" As soon as I got up, he plopped himself down where I had been sitting.  

Mary used a small towel to pat her sweaty face, then gingerly dabbed the larger globs of Bill's semen from her thighs and her labia, while her pussy looked like it had been fucked, and well at that. She looked so beautiful, so glowing, and I just felt incredibly lucky. She knelt at the head of the bed, on a pillow, and patted the spot next to her, using her other hand to make a "come hither" motion with her finger.  

I lay down next to her as she indicated.  

She started kissing me, her tongue probing deeply past my lips, hungrily probing each other. Still wild and aroused from her last climax, she wasted no time. She pushed me back and roughly bit and nibbled my neck, then slowly turned around, biting my nipples as he pushed her breasts into my face. It was like a full-body 69. I massaged her breasts and sucked on her erect nipples, as she did mine, and then she moved down further, licking and nibbling, as I did the same to her. Then she reached my cock. She teased it, licked the head, down the shaft of my cock, then my balls, tracing her fingernails up my inner thighs. I involuntarily spread my legs.  

Then, frustratingly, she got on top of me, up onto her knees. I looked up and saw that beautiful, smooth, and very hot pussy that Bill had been deep inside a moment ago.  

Mary straddled my head, lowering her sweet, sopping-wet pussy down onto my face. I tried to move, to turn my head, but she used her knees to hold me, smiling and saying, "You've seen this before, Pete. Hot and ready?" 

Her pussy was millimeters from my nose and my lips. I could feel the heat, smell the fresh, raw scent of a woman, and the musky tones of Bill, too. She held it there for several long seconds, tantalizingly close.  

"Kiss my pussy, Pete," she begged sweetly. "Please, baby. Kiss it." 

I tilted my head back and kissed her clitoris delicately. Mary moaned in delight. I kissed it again, longer, lingering, nibbling, and blowing cool air across it. Mary gasped and cried out, "Yes!" I took a chance and licked from there down her labia, Mary's guttural jazz-singer voice sounded out, "Oh, yeah, baby, there! Right there!" 

I remembered how Bill had taunted me, claiming I'd been licking her cum-filled pussy for weeks without complaint.  

Then I thought about how much I enjoyed licking her pussy as foreplay, holding her legs up, licking from the clitoris to the labia and down to her sweet puckered asshole, up one side, down the other, tickling her, tasting her, driving her wild. Unlike before, this time I knew I was tasting Bill's dick and his semen, as well as my wife's natural scent, but fuck, it didn't kill me before, right? And it never mattered how much she climaxed on my tongue--it always primed her for an intense fuck, so I made the most of it and ate her to insensibility until she begged me to stop.

I was determined to exceed all expectations. I started my mouth music on her with gusto.  

I was vaguely aware of Bill circling the bed and the clicking sound of a camera. I'll give him something to photograph, I thought.  

It wasn't long before Mary started screaming, twerking her hips, and scrubbing her pussy over my face. My cock was crazy hard by now. Eating her cunt always got me aroused, and now, with her pussy already fucked hard and sensitive as it was, she responded much more intensely than ever, skyrocketing my own arousal! I found myself greedy for her taste, uncontrollably voracious in my oral assault. She tried to pull away, but I held onto her thighs and drove my tongue in deeper, ruthlessly probing into her even as her body shook with one wave of pleasure after another.  

After a few dizzying moments, I felt a hot mouth on my cock. I thought she might have mercifully been able to get into a 69 position; my poor forgotten dick had been throbbing and leaking clear fluid forever.  

But this was different. The mouth was hard, and the tongue was rough. I felt the scratch of whiskers on my inner thighs.  

Then I heard Mary say, "Oh fuck, Bill! That's so fucking hot! Suck his cock! Suck it!" 

Mary's pussy was on my face, and Bill's mouth was on my cock. It was all I could take. I felt an uncontrollable climax coming on, and when my orgasm hit, I swear I could feel it in my toes, up the back of my legs, into my spine, and then my whole body shook. I shot the biggest load of my life, pumping it over and over into the mouth of my best friend.  

I lay there for a few minutes, my mind in a fog, vaguely aware of Bill and Mary moving around. I rolled over and watched as Mary started sucking Bill's dick, hungrily, deeply, and with vigor. I think she liked it more than he did.  

"Yeah, slut! Suck that big cock!" Bill encouraged her, grabbing her head in his hands. "Fuck yea, you cocksucking slut! Suck it! Yes! Ugh! Ugh! Yes..." until he ejaculated into her mouth and collapsed onto the bed with us.  

We lay there together, sweaty and fatigued, not talking, just breathing and basking in the afterglow. After a short while, Mary started to play with my penis, kissing it, stroking it, and encouraging me to hardness. I did get hard, and then she leaned over and kissed me, pulling back and saying, "Pete, do you have something for me? I know you do! Make me yours, stud!" 

Bill dimmed the lights and lit a few electric candles around the room. "Click, click," went his camera.  

"Oh, baby! You are so beautiful! So sexy!" I told her, honestly.

"I love you so much!" she replied.  

I saw it now--I realized what she saw in him. Bill was Monday night football, beer and pizza, rowdy yelling, and celebrating when your team climactically scored. I, on the other hand, was red wine by candlelight on a sunset cruise, ending in spectacular fireworks. My turn, bro? I thought, Stand back! Bill would see how a truly devoted husband worships his loving wife.

I made love to Mary. Slowly I built up her arousal, listening to her body, her signals. Her tiny squeaks and moans, each and every one, told me volumes about what aroused her, what made her feel good. Where to touch her. How to drive her wild.  

I focused on her, my hands, my mouth, my lips, my tongue, and my teeth gently playing on her erogenous zones: her tender, sensitive labia, her earlobes, her neck, her breasts, and her sweet lips. Mary was on fire, squealing and trembling under my touch. Wild, not like with Bill, but differently. Instead of being a passive fuck toy, she was focused on me, and we were great together.  

She tasted me and nibbled my neck, and even my nipples were fair game. She moved down between my legs, her mouth and tongue tracing a hot, lazy, and lingering trail from my navel to nearly my tailbone. She tenderly took my balls into her mouth, one at a time, then my cock, deeply, over and over until she could tell I was nearly desperate to take her. I pulled her up next to me, kissing her deeply even as she spread her legs.  

I moved and mounted her quickly, sliding in easily; she reacted, crying, "Oh, yes! That's my man! Fill my pussy! Deeper, yes!" Taking her to the brink over and over until she was aching for release, until at last, she surrendered, and then, as her climax washed over her, I'd extend it, drawing it out like an ocean wave. She'd scream, cry out my name, her body thrashing, her eyes wild. Mary was multi-orgasmic, a discovery we shared and cherished. We made love to each other and finally explosively climaxed together. Then we collapsed, holding each other, completely spent.  

We lay there, out of breath and labored, covered in sweat, glowing and savoring the moment, until I heard Bill exhale.

"Wow."

Bill handed me the camera, and I scrolled through the pictures he'd taken. There it was, written across my wife's sweet face, and I could see it plainly now: the happiness, the ecstasy, even the exhilaration she displayed as I made love to her. There was nothing to be jealous about.  

Bill and I were indeed bookends, the yin and yang of her sexual needs. I pondered this until the three of us fell asleep in the disheveled bed.

I woke at sunrise, with Mary staring at my face, an odd smile on her lips. She leaned over and kissed me, then said, "Bill's fingering my pussy! I'm going to come!" and kissed me again, as a wave of orgasm washed over her.  

Holding my wife while Bill made her climax was mind-blowing, one of many firsts for us that previous night. The next one didn't manifest until later this morning.

Mary and I showered, I made coffee, and we sat around the breakfast table in our bathrobes. Bill joined us a little later, freshly showered and wearing only a towel. As I poured him a cup of coffee, he pulled the towel off, adjusted his dick, and sat naked with us.  

We didn't speak, just sipped coffee, and giggled at each other. Mary was idly playing with the empty wine bottle from the night before, lying on its side. She flicked it, and it spun slowly, stopping in my direction. Mary grinned, saying, "Rules are rules!" and leaned over, kissing me gently at first, then slowly increasing in passion, her tongue and mine exploring, until she broke it off suddenly, sitting back in her chair. Her robe had fallen open, her breasts on display, proudly too, I think. I realized my dick was hard.  

I heard Bill's camera again.  

Mary nodded to me, indicating the bottle. I gave it a half-hearted push; it spun slowly then stopped. It pointed at Bill. I thought she might kiss him now and was a little disappointed having to share her again.

Bill, naked and semi-hard, walked over, pulled me up by my robe, grinning, "Rules are rules." And kissed me.  

I froze. It was different; his mouth was hard, not soft like Mary's. His tongue was muscular, probing, not tender, and delicate like Mary's. I felt his beard stubble scratch my lips. My robe fell away, and his arms embraced me, pulling me close. I suddenly realized I wasn't kissing him back, so I did. I pulled his head close to mine, and with my other hand, I pressed into the toned muscles of his back, down to his butt, and pulled him closer to me, my fingers slipping into the crack of his ass.  

He spread his legs slightly, so I slid my fingers down, grazing his tight pucker. It was an electric moment. I thought I detected a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.  

I heard the camera sound again, and I'd have been disappointed if I didn't.

Then I heard Mary urge us on, "Oh, god, this is so hot! What erotic masculine passion! Oh, yes, boys! My brawny lovers! Go for it!" I risked a glance over and saw her put the camera down. She had spread her legs and tossed her head back as she massaged her pussy to a quick orgasm.

On hearing her climax subside, Bill and I separated, each taking our seats again, as if nothing was unusual, except we were both hard. Bill grinned at Mary. "I wish I'd done that a year ago," he admitted.  

She pushed the camera over to him, asking, "What should we do with this?" 

Bill put his camera down on the table, flashing a smile at Mary. "Just make sure I get a copy of your book," he commented, and we both nodded.  

Mary took my hand. "Pete, what do you think? Should we make this a regular thing?" 

I thought for a moment, pondering Mary's question, wondering where it would lead.

"Pete, I know you guys are married. I'm willing to abide by any rules you want," Bill volunteered, hopefully.

"Do you really think we need rules?" I asked, smiling knowingly.