Her husband had a bit too much to drink–no thanks to me–and he sat on the couch falling asleep and then waking himself up each time his head fell forward. He’d look around, smile at us, and then his eyes would close as he drifted off one more time.

Carlie and I were across the room looking at photo books and sipping our wine slowly. The low island between us and the couch left us hidden from the navel down, which meant that when I slid my hand up the back of her leg, beneath her dress, and onto her ass, he didn’t notice.

“Are you guys reading?” he asked, sitting up for a moment. We turned to face him, and this time I slid her in front of me with the book opened on the counter. She leaned forward and turned a few pages.

“It’s a beautiful book, Tom” she said, wetting one finger before returning it to the glossy paper. “You’d like it.”

“Sure,” he mumbled before we lost him again to sleep.

“I’m glad you like it,” I said, lifting her dress as she bent over the book. “It is rather filthy though.”

“Oh, I find it somewhat tame,” she said, separating her feet and standing up on her toes. “Most artists–most people even–stop before they go too far. You know how it is. Someone has an idea, most likely one they love and fear, but they stop before they finish it.”

“Is that so?” I asked, sliding my hand between her legs to find her soaking wet. I pushed two fingers inside her and watched as her head dipped. A sigh escaped her mouth.

“It is,” she said quietly. I began to fuck her with my fingers as she turned another page. “They start out well intentioned, but they find themselves stopped by some odd sense of morality or chivalry.”

“Is that what we’re calling it?” I asked, removing my fingers and pressing myself against her. I was harder than I had been all week.

“Tom, what do I say about morality?” she asked, leaning forward in an obvious invitation. Her husband’s eyes shot open for a moment and he rubbed them with both hands.

“You say… You say… Something about people having too much of it. Men are all better talkers than doers? That’s it. I think. Hey, is he behaving over there? You’re standing very close to my wife.”

“He’s being a perfect gentleman,” Carlie said, as I pulled myself from my pants and pressed my length firmly between her ass cheeks.

“You hate gentleman,” Tom said, taking a sip from the glass in front of him. His eyes were partly opened, but it was impossible to tell how much he saw.

“Well, I’m sure there must be some bastards about,” I said, pushing my cock down until the head was positioned against her entrance. “Don’t you think so?”

“I doubt it,” Carlie said, widening her stance. “No one has any nerve at all these days. There’s too much to be afraid of.”

“I suppose you’re right,” I said, filling her with one thrust. “But there’s nothing wrong with some old-fashioned sensibilities. We can’t all be running around breaking rules, can we?”

“Don’t tell my wife that!” Tom said, standing for a moment before falling back down to the couch. His wife reached down and squeezed my hand so tightly I thought she might break something. My fingers dug into the flesh of her ass while I began to slide in and out of her, fucking her not six feet from her inebriated husband.

“I’m always happy to be proven wrong,” Carlie said, pushing back onto me. “But I suspect it’s still too soon to tell. Even the biggest scoundrel sometimes decides at the last minute that it’s best to withdraw before completion. Cowards, if you ask me.”

“You two look very nice,” Tom said, falling to one side and pulling a pillow up under his head. “Like a nice two people. Even if you are a bit close. Is he too close, dear?”

“He’s doing fine,” Carlie said, turning and kissing my cheek as I began to speed up my thrusts. The woman was taunting, teasing, and inspiring me, and I found my resolve growing stronger by the minute.

“I’m glad you think so,” I said, kissing the back of her neck as one hand moved around her body. When my fingers pressed against her clitoris she moaned loudly enough to rouse her husband. He rolled to one side and then to his back again.

“I suppose we’ll know soon enough,” she said, bracing herself against the island as I began to fuck her with all the strength I had. Tom’s prone body was motionless other than the gentle rise and fall of his chest with each breath. I lifted his wife’s dress up higher so I might see her ass and my cock buried within her; it pushed me over the edge.

“I suspect so,” I said slamming into her forcefully, burying myself within her tight confines as I began to come. She was silent as I filled her, but she pushed back against me, her own fingers having replaced mine between her legs. I didn’t pull out for a second, even once I was done, and she clenched around me as she lowered her head to the counter and began to shake ever so beautifully.

Tom didn’t stir as we slowly disengaged and stood up once more. She straightened her dress, and I zipped up my pants and took another sip of my wine. When Carlie turned towards me, it was with an expression akin to admiration.

“You are a truly terrible man,” she said, standing on her toes and kissing me lightly on the mouth.

“I’m so glad you think so,” I said.

She put one finger to my lips for half a second before making her way around the bar and over to the couch. I watched her sit down next to her husband and gently comb his hair with her long fingers. Her eyes filled with love and tenderness.

“I married the sweetest man…”