Every time he passed her, he touched her. Every time he caught her eye he winked. She would smile, as subtly as possible, shaking her head at his audacity. This was her event, and he was supposed to be her secret, her reward to herself when the banquet was over. But then he never did play by the rules.

If he played by the rules he wouldn't bring his wife to an event he was coming to just to fuck another woman.

Try saying that five times fast.

Kind of an exciting idea, isn't it? Bringing your wife with you on a date with another woman. Not to participate, mind you, just to sit there, decorative-like, while you fuck your wanton slut up against the wall in the very next room.

But first there was all the teasing. Him teasing her, touching her, winking at her. Her teasing him, flashing a little breast, playing suggestively with her food, looking at him, even from the podium as she introduced the guests, looking at him and knowing she would be fucked by him, a secret knowledge unknown to her guests, to his wife, to her own husband.

By the end of the banquet they were both slightly crazed, and the opportunity for fucking has not yet presented itself. There had been no room, and no wall, and no excuse for staying any longer.

Reluctantly they walk to their cars with their spouses and hug goodbye, the spouses as usual standing uncomfortably at a respectable distance, shifting on their feet, making small talk with each other, suspecting much, unable to prove anything.

"Fuck her tonight at midnight. Fuck her hard and think about me" she whispers in his ear as she squeezes him tight."

"I will." he responds. "And you fuck him. And think about me."

In two separate cars two separate spouses ask exactly the same question: "What was that about?"

"Nothing," they both answer, "Now drive faster. I want you."