It’s a beautiful summer afternoon. This lock down is a pleasure here. The kids have been playing in the garden in the sunshine. Sarah and I have been gardening and drinking wine. I love this family. I love this place. There are butterflies everywhere. A huge, pretty, red one lands on Sarah’s hair. She is as enchanting as the weather. She shines. She sparkles. They all do. We have dinner out in the garden. Everyone is happy and smiling. Chatting. Laughing. The kids talk exuberantly about flying their kite out by the lake. Sarah took them out there again this morning. It sounds like they had a typically fantastic time. All of a sudden Little Katie falls silent… thinking. Then: ‘Mummy!.. You really like talking to that man don’t you?’ There is silence. The whole mood has changed. I hold my tongue. Sarah is deep in thought. The laughter has all stopped. ‘Steve...’ Sarah eventually says. ‘Yes Katie I do.’ The radiance and jollity has faded from her. She talks slowly and calmy. Looking down at her plate as she speaks. Pushing her food with her fork. ‘He’s always charming and friendly…. He’s not like the other people. Everyone else moans about lock down... Or unloads their problems onto me... Or moans about that new housing estate... Or tries to convert me to their political views… it’s so depressing.’ ‘You talk to him for a long time Mummy.’ ‘I like talking to him. It’s actually a pleasure. He’s like... the only person who it’s actually a pleasure to talk to. He’s always happy.’ She’s still talking slowly and avoiding any eye contact. ‘He’s so laid back and chilled out. He’s funny. He makes me laugh. He… ‘ she pauses for a few seconds ‘...understands me.’ Suddenly it feels like I am in the wrong movie or something. I can’t believe this conversation is even happening. I’m silent. Shocked. It feels like my stomach is stuck in my throat. ‘What does Steve talk about Mummy?’ ‘Just nice things...’ Sarah continues. He talks about climbing. He’s so into it. You can really tell how much he loves it.’ She’s looking up from her food now. There’s vibrancy in her voice that was missing before. ‘It sounds so amazing being up there. So liberating. The thrill... the views... the freedom. It all comes across so vividly when he talks about it. He talks about his house. It’s amazing what he’s doing with it! And he’s not big headed about it. He just has these fantastic ideas and he goes for it... and he makes it happen...’ Everyone is quiet for a few moments as they all get on with eating. It’s one of those pick and mix meals that they all love. Where Sarah spreads cheeses, cold meats, olives, salad, bread, and more, across the table and everyone just dives in. If you snooze you lose. I’m losing right now. I’m not eating any of it. I feel like I’ve been punched in the chest. Was this just today? I have to know. I have to ask someone… something. I try to sound jaunty. Smiling, I direct a question to Katie. ‘Do you often meet Steve?’ ‘Yes Daddy... All the time.’ It feels like every internal organ in my chest has just dropped into my stomach. Sarah hadn’t mentioned that she had met Steve. She mentioned meeting various characters who get on her nerves or bore her to death. She hasn’t mentioned Steve since she saw him climbing a month ago. During April she often bumped into him. She talked about him a lot. About the work that he had going on at his big house. About the travels that he told her he is planning. About the fantastic gardens that he’s putting in. But then it stopped. For a month she hasn’t mentioned him at Can all. I had blithely thought that she hadn’t seen him. But there it is. From the mouth of an innocent child. ‘Yes daddy. All the time.’ I feel like I need to vomit. I think I’m actually in shock. I wanted her to be a Hotwife. I really did. It was a silly obsession inspired by pornography. I knew that. It felt like a dangerous game that was fun to play. I’d kind of subliminally persuade her to lead me where ever she wanted to go. Which was never going to be cuckoldry. I knew I couldn’t make her do anything. I know I can’t control her. I wouldn’t want to. I couldn’t just come out and ask her to be a Hotwife. She would balk at it. It would scare her. Probably upset her and damage our relationship. So I slowly and subtly suggested and encouraged her. Small step by small step. But steps she wanted to take. To wherever she wanted to go. I worked on removing barriers in her mind. And wherever she wants to go, at whatever speed, then that’s where we go. If it’s nowhere.. that’s fine. Whatever she wants... I am happy with. Well… I was… until Steve ‘really came out of himself’ at Christmas. Franky, now, I'm terrified. I started out with an end game vision of another guy fucking her. Not understanding her! And certainly not a guy we’ve both known since childhood. A guy who told me that he liked her right when we first got together. The Hotwife that I had in mind would maybe pull a guy in a bar. We would take him back to a hotel and he'd make her cum harder than I do, right there in front of me, and then we’d all go home get on with life like it never happened. We’d never see the guy again. ‘Stevie’, (I can still hear the tone change in her voice,) understanding her, is not something that ever occurred to me. My mind was awash with porn industry bullshit. Meanwhile in the real world.... We all get on with dinner as if nothing has happened. I pour Sarah more wine to break myself out of my stupor. Through the rest of the evening I make an effort to behave as if the conversation never happened. At bedtime I can’t help myself. I have to bring it up. It’s gnawing at my mind. I think about how to ask her about the dinner time conversation in a friendly, non confrontational, manner. Then I think better of it and decide not to ask at all. Then, by the time that I’m sat in bed with a book in my hands, as she’s getting undressed, I've change my mind back. I have to ask! I think hard about how to phrase it. Eventually I pluck up the courage to go with: ‘You didn’t tell me that you’d bumped into Steve honey. How is he?’ ‘Oh he’s fine.’ I seem to have pitched it right because she opens straight up. She moves from the dressing table round to her side of the bed. She’s stepping out of her knickers. ‘He is building that Tennis court. I mean building it himself! How cool is that.’ She’s smiling and bouncy. Now sat on the edge of the bed. ‘He says he’s going to throw a big party after lock down.’I smile.' ‘That’ll be great! Let’s hope it’s not long.’ It’s the first I’ve heard of any party. I feel sick in my stomach. My mind is whirling. I tell myself to cool it. It’s my fantasy not hers! She’s not having an emotional affair with Steve! She just bumps into him every now and then and hasn’t mentioned it because there’s nothing to tell. But telling myself these things isn’t really helping with the knot in my stomach. She picks up the fishnet body stocking from out of her bedside draw. ‘How about I put this on? Would you like that?’ I snap out of it almost immediately. My smile goes from forced to genuine. ‘Er.. well yeah...’ She goes to the bathroom and comes back wearing that slutty fishnet. She fixes my gaze and crawls across the bed to me, staring into my eyes, smiling naughtily, half biting her bottom lip. She says ‘I want you to fuck me from behind like I’m a filthy bitch.’ (She never said anything dirty before I started my Hotwife conversion process. This is a new high.) I’ve already got a raging hard on. (She’s never enjoyed doggystyle.) I get up behind her and feel for the split in the crotch with my fingers. I try to guide my cock into her but the light is dim and I struggle to find the spot. I’m desperately thinking: ‘Come on don’t fuck this up! Oh god that’s not right. Quick try again. Don’t fuck this up. Don’t kill the moment. It’s there!’ Relieved not to have blown it I slowly work my cock into her. Before long I’m thrusting the full length deep in and out of her pussy. She pushes back against me and grinds her ass on my cock like she loves it. (Her ass is world class. It’s all the gym work she does. It could win prizes.) Eventually she is doing most of the movement. I move slowly and carefully as she thumps her ass against my groin thrusting it slightly upwards each time the lips of her pussy reach the base of my cock. I reach around her for her clit and leave a finger to gently touch it on each of her thumping, cock bending, thrusts. She starts cumming. ‘Oh God!... Oh Fuck!… Fuck that big cock in my cunt!…Ahhhhhh! Ahhhhhhh! She cums loud and long. She is beautiful. She is amazing. (She has never cum in doggystyle before.) I watch her taught figure athletically working my cock. I feel disappointed when, her orgasm over, she pulls herself off me and lays on her side. But then she lifts an arm, pushes me, puts me down onto my back, and climbs above me. She squats above my cock. Feet astride my hips. She lowers herself gently onto it. She moves like a gymnast. She rides in various positions. She’s putting on a show. Leaning back she works it like she wants to snap it. It hurts so good. The show goes on and on. She says ‘You love me fucking you… Don’t you?’ Eventually I have to grab her and pull her body onto mine. She moans ‘Oh that is so fucking sexy!’ as I lick her tit whilst driving my cock up into her soaking wet pussy. She has the longest loudest orgasm I’ve ever known her to have. I try not to, because Christ, I don’t want to! But from start to finish, and even as I’m blowing my load into her, I am imagining that I am ‘Stevie’.