It had been one of the key duties of my profession when I worked with clients, to detect their ego-preserving evasions and half-truths when they recounted the daily events of their lives. This molding of the truth was never something to be judged, but real healing could not take place in an environment filled with self-deception. It’s understandable how we almost automatically gloss over the scope of our personal failings, as our psyches wish for a mirror that hazes the flaws while reflecting our beauty in crisp detail. Much of therapy is an attempt to reverse this dynamic, while assisting an intrinsic sense of self-worth to remain which includes a more realistic picture of our faults and falsehoods. Interestingly, some clients were very much aware of their degree of self-deception. Others had no clue, and were stunned when they learned how they viewed their personal histories and even tiny day to day events through deeply distorted lenses.

I knew perfectly well that I was lying to Coral when I lied, and didn’t come close to telling her everything, as she had asked. The narrative I spun that afternoon needed to convey the “fact” that I never would have imagined using the immersion technique for sexual gratification, not without Grace badgering me into hypnotizing Lucinda. I spoke only a little about that, claiming the need to preserve deeply personal secrets that Grace had entrusted to me. But I revealed enough that the point was made — Grace gave me the idea of using my hypnotic skills as a way of enhancing sexual excitement. I wasn’t pure or blameless and knew I shouldn’t have done it, but I also wasn’t a controlling sex fiend. Grace was.

It didn’t feel like a betrayal. Hell, even Grace believed in this sequence of events to some extent, that she had corrupted me with her wish to exert sexual control over Lucinda. I did an excellent job of sanding the rough edges away from my sins, squeezing slices of processed lies between layers of spongy half-truths. I could eventually be found out on certain details, true, but the essence of the story was so parallel to reality that I had little fear of Coral digging deep enough to catch me at my game.

Besides, she had no objectivity while listening, which made her the perfect audience. Coral wanted to believe because believing made her hot. I nestled beside her on the bed, my head propped on one elbow, surveying the rising curvature of her breasts as I spoke. She never stopped the light fingering between her legs, and I sometimes reached out to roll a big hard nipple between my fingers, eliciting a sharper gasp of excitement. Even without added stimulation she absorbed my altered version of events with occasional whispered questions and sudden sighs of delight, the telling of the tale becoming like some verbal porn story intended to keep my wife in a state of expectant heat.

The counterfeit story about Grace and Lucinda went so well that I used the same combination of truths and falsehoods to reveal my exploits with Rosita. The Michael in this carefully edited tale was a therapist with a busty pole-dancing client, who began to exhibit unmistakable signs of transference during months of arduous psychological work. That much was true. Only this therapist, knowing how patients can sometimes succumb to exaggerated feelings of intimacy during sessions, did the right thing by deflecting Rosita’s flirtatious longings at every turn, eventually bringing their work together to a successful conclusion.

This Michael struggled with the grey areas of professional ethics when Rosita called several weeks later, requesting a date. She was an extremely beautiful woman, and hard to resist, especially since this Michael had been single for some time. He’d been hurt by his last girlfriend, and had not had a sexual partner for many, many months, much like Coral herself.

“You… hypnotized this Rosita woman into your bed,” Coral breathed, eyes still closed. “You made her do what you wanted, and…”

“No, it wasn’t like that. We found our way towards being lovers quite naturally, because… Well, the attraction was real, and mutual. But I’d just tweaked Lucinda’s psyche and body for Grace’s purposes, and I couldn’t help imagining what might be possible. The immersion technique had worked so well at erasing Rosita’s addictive behaviors during therapy that I began to wonder whether the reverse might be possible, that I could stimulate cravings that already existed. I knew how she responded to my voice when hypnotized, and I began to think of things I might say to her, things that might… you know, get her extra-hot. I knew it was wrong, but Grace kept telling me that Lucinda had become something like a super-lover. Rosita wasn’t my client anymore and I just couldn’t resist. I wanted to know if I could work to make her super-orgasmic, like Lucinda.”

“Super… orgasmic? What do you mean by super orgasmic?”

I tweaked Coral’s nipples more roughly, and she hissed. She was on fire, probably counting glassy-eyed pole-dancing lovers behind those closed lids. The thought of hypnotizing women for sex had become something like a thought-dildo for her, and the most remarkable thing was that she didn’t appear to suspect that any of her sexual longings since our wedding were the result of hypnotizing her in Las Vegas.

I continued, completely confident, explaining in edited detail how I’d worked at Rosita’s vulnerable psyche, making her body ache for my gaze and my touch. I made Rosita dream about me, and feel a deep aching emptiness that could only be filled by the penetration of my cock. And I was stunned at how effectively the commands took hold.

“She was almost crazed with lust,” I whispered, “like the immersion suggestions had flipped a switch inside of her. Whenever I stared at her body, or touched her… I couldn’t even believe what the technique had done to her. She was like an animal in heat. It worked so well that I hypnotized her a second time, implanting suggestions that her orgasms become more and more powerful, and they did. It was unlike anything I’d ever seen before. I began to wonder whether there were any limits to what might be possible with the technique, because everyone loves pleasure, and wishes for more of it.”

“Oh God!” Coral grunted, her chest heaving. “Oh God, fuck me and tell me that we can do that to somebody! To Mira! To Judith! To Grace and Lucinda! To… me!”

She was completely lost in the fog, fingering herself furiously now. It wasn’t fancy what I did, shifting so that I came at her in the missionary position, driving my dick deep into her well-teased pussy. It was perfect, though, because I could watch her face, reading the effect of every word. With my elbows locked, I thrust hard and kept talking, knowing how every utterance was like gas poured onto an already raging fire.

“You want me to hypnotize women and turn them into your little cunt- slaves, don’t you Coral?”

“Yes!”

“Wind their pussies up and throw their needy lusty dripping bodies at you.”

“At us! Oh God, oh yes!”

“Mira and Judith, Grace and Lucinda, and hot little co-eds you haven’t even met yet. Pliable sexy bodies and vulnerable minds, just waiting to be twisted under hypnosis.”

“Oh God, Michael! Oh… my…”

“You’re a devious wanton sex fiend,” I accused. “Using others, using me to get what you want!”

“But I… I need…”

“You don’t need — you want to need. You want me to hypnotize you into needing and getting more than you ever thought possible. You don’t even care that I’d have to betray my first new client, do you? Judith is my client now, thanks to you, and you want me to betray her under hypnosis, making her irresistibly wet, uncontrollably horny. That’s what you want me to do, isn’t it?”

“Oh… God!”

“Isn’t it?”

“Yes!”

“You want me to turn Judith into a shivering little sex slave just because I can!”

“Yes! Oh God…”

“I could do it, Coral. She’s so submissive by nature that I could probably make Judith come on command. Imagine that, having the power to say one word, and have her writhing on the ground, overcome with heat and lust.”

“Yes! Oh God!”

“Begging.”

“Oh God, yes!”

“Begging for your touch. Begging for your voice. Pleading with you to let her come.”

I’d hit pay dirt and I knew it. I kept repeating how our victims would beg for sex, and beg to be allowed to come. Coral’s mouth was gaping open and twisted, eyes clenched shut like she needed to brace for what was rising inside of her. And when she came, the screams were like nothing I’d ever heard coming from her mouth before. I felt the gush of steamy liquid surrounding my embedded dick, making everything even wetter inside, and I pumped for everything I was worth, fucking my wife, fucking her vibrating cunt and her altered mind that might have become as devious as my own. I fucked the hell out of every twisted fantasy she might have inside, vowing as I came that I would make them all come true.

I’m at a party in my house, filled with colleagues from the hospital and Coral’s school friends. I see my wife talking within a small group, and I survey the curves of her body in her strapless evening gown. Her breasts are so full at the front, her puffy nipples hard and erect to the point that it looks like they hold the entire gown up. I feel my cock stiffening and step closer for a better view. Coral turns and sees my approach, and the sparkles in her eyes tell me that she knows how I’ve been appreciating her body.

She says to me: “There’s something important down in the basement — could you go and get it? We’ll never have a proper party without it.”

The next thing I know I’m in the basement, peering into the shadows, trying to figure out what it is that I’m supposed to get. I hear a sound behind me. Turning, I see woman step into the light. She’s stunningly beautiful and voluptuous, hauntingly like Coral except that she has raven black hair. Her body is essentially uncovered, with shining black strands of some sort of shiny material criss- crossing her form, like she has a vinyl spider’s web attached to her body. Her nipples, pushed out by the surrounding strands of webbing, are so erect that I can see them pulsing. I look up, and meet a gaze completely permeated by sex.

“Let’s do it,” she mouths, her lips full and puckered like she’s already sucking my cock.

“I can’t,” I say, although I definitely want to. “My wife…”

“Fuck your wife,” the dark beauty responds, cupping my erection with the palm of her hand. “Who do you think hired me?”

Only then do I realize that this stunning woman is a prostitute, hired and given to me as a present by Coral.

“Don’t move,” she commands, pressing the front of her body close. She lowers her hands and I feel my pants falling away, my throbbing erection being grasped and stroked. Her touch is electric, and knowing in a way that I’ve never experienced before. She’s a professional, the depth of her sexual skills seeming to pulsate right through her fingertips. She strokes the length of me, fingers dancing and pulling as they move. I gasp and she “shhhhhs” me with an outpouring of breath, telling me that we’ve barely begun.

What happens next should be horrifying, but it isn’t. She pulls back just enough that I can see her playing with my hard dick, squeezed upright in her hand. She makes a strange motion with her fingers, which somehow unlocks the head of my penis from the shaft. I never knew that this was even possible, and watch in amazement as she swivels the helmet away on fleshy hinges, so that the interior of my cock is exposed. I stare down into it, and see how it is filled with milky cum.

The beautiful prostitute leans down, so that her lips are only inches from the pool of cum inside my dick. “Hypnotize and fuck them all,” she whispers, her breath causing a slight wave to roil the liquid white surface. “Hypnotize every damned one of them and make them need this!”

My cock suddenly feels hot, and I see the cum beginning to boil. Before I can react or even be frightened, she sticks a finger down into my penis, and begins to stir the contents vigorously. “Gaaaahhhh!” I cry out, the pressure unbelievably intense. The sensations are incredibly pleasureful, but so concentrated that it’s difficult to bear them. It feels like all the cum inside of me is being whipped until it’s frothing and bubbling right out of my opened cock.

“Who… are you?” I gasp, but somehow I already know. This prostitute is another version of Coral. A new version, and I had a hand in creating her.

She whips my insides even more vigorously until my cum is spilling out all over the place, getting on everything. “That’s it!” she cries in triumph. “No holding back! No mercy! Fuck them all and make them need it! Do it to them! Do it! Do it!"

I called Grace early that evening. Sitting in my office chair with a glass of chilled Italian rosé cooling my palm, we chit-chatted about work, and the weather, and other meaningless things. Then Grace excused herself for a few moments, and came back to the phone with the sound of ice tinkling in a glass.

“Pear flavored vodka,” she explained. “My new summer passion.”

“I’ll have to try it,” I said.

“Speaking of summer passions, let’s cut to the chase. How are things going with the newlywed life? Is married sex good? Any regrets?”

“The married sex is better than I could have dreamed, Grace. Coral is blossoming that way — you should see how she’s begun to dress. She’s out walking the dog right now, and I’m afraid for the safety of any men who might be driving by. She used to try to downplay the grandeur of her breasts, or hide them. No more.”

“Sounds delicious. I can see those tits wobbling around in a little halter top right now. Take some photos of her for me, and email them.”

“Maybe. But speaking of delicious, she had quite the surprise for me the other night. I fucked Coral and Mira together in our bedroom.”

I could hear Grace spit vodka into the mouthpiece of her phone. “Whaaaaat?” she cough-gasped, and I pictured her face turning red, eyes opened wide. It would have been kind to prepare her in some way for the news, but this was too much fun.

“You heard me. I didn’t know it was going to happen, honest. Coral hired Mira as a model…”

“But… what… how did Mira… What the fuck is going on up there?” my stunned best friend sputtered. “Wait a minute. This is a joke, right?”

“No joke, Grace. Coral hired Mira as a model for her drawings…”

“But… how did she even know that Mira existed?”

“My bachelor party. Mira was the stripper at my party, and when the guys…”

“Wait! You never told me that!“

“It didn’t seem relevant at the time.”

“You fucking asshole!” she shouted, loud enough that I eased the phone back from my ear.

“Grace, calm down. None of it was my idea — I had no clue Mira would be at the bachelor party until it was too late. She found some way to hire herself as the entertainment that night. I guess you could say that she was stalking me, and then she showed up to dance and do all sorts of other sexy stuff.”

“My God, you fucked Mira right before Las Vegas! You fucked her right before your fucking wedding!”

My normally eloquent friend was deep into fucking this and that as a form of language now, meaning I really had her going. “No, I did not fuck Mira," I countered. "I was gagged and tied to a chair, meaning she fucked me.”

A pause. “They tied you up? Your friends?”

“Yep. And then they filmed it all, every carnal bit of it. Coral, just recently, stumbled upon the video and instantly fell into a state of pussy-lust. She’s the one who initiated the contact with Mira because she found her so hot.”

“What planet am I suddenly on? Coral is… I knew she had submerged tendencies, but they were only… This is fucking insane!”

“Apparently, Mira’s torso and everything she can do with it lit a fire between Coral’s legs that she couldn’t put out, not without more fire, and Mira’s body to play with. You should have seen them, Grace. They were unbelievably gorgeous when they were doing each other, like they’d been made for each other in this weird way.”

Another pause, longer this time. Because I knew Grace so well, down to her littlest habits, I could picture her brushing a strand of hair from her face, the way she sometimes had when I’d been her therapist. In the silence was the truth that it bugged her, a least a little, that Coral’s pussy had become a gusher when she saw Mira. Perhaps Grace was replaying the time when she and Coral had met at that acting workshop, and how her own pussy-lust had not been reciprocated in this very way. She didn’t know that my wife’s sex jets had been given a nudge since then, and I wasn’t about to tell her.

“I… I can’t even fucking believe this! They — your wife and your ex… ex whatever she was, ex-mistress, ex-leggy torso to bonk — they found each other and did each other, and you weren’t even involved?”

“Not exactly. I became involved because they wanted to share. I did them both. We all did everybody else. In bed we must have looked like one of those triangle recycling symbols, only jumping and humping all over the place.”

“I can’t fucking believe this! Does Coral know… Wait, I already know the answer — you’re still lying to her, I know you are!”

“Only partially. Mira and I are withholding our past together, that’s all.”

“That’s all? It’s everything! You were fucking Mira practically the whole time you were courting your wife!”

“But never once we were married.”

“I can’t believe I’m hearing this! It’s beyond Oedipal! It’s… I don’t know what the fuck it is!”

“It’s unexpected, that’s for sure. Mira is either moving north for good or setting up a second home near where we live, so she can…”

“Holy shit! You’re going to keep doing it? Are you fucking out of your mind?”

“Coral insists. She’s completely enthralled with Mira as a model. I mean, you should see the drawings. Coral’s art is going gangbusters, Grace. It’s so alive, and so challenging in these incredibly bold ways. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone this excited or engaged before. It’s like Coral is just dripping with creativity.”

“I need another fucking drink,” Grace said, and she must have put the phone down to get it.

“You’re very upset,” I stated once the tinkling of ice had returned.

“And you’re so stupid!”

“Oh?”

“At some point Coral is bound to realize that Miss Torso didn’t just fall out of the sky all of a sudden. She’s going to learn that Mira lived here when you lived here, and traveled in circles you were known to frequent. Don’t you think she’s going to start asking questions? Don’t you think she’ll discover that Mira worked in the same dance company as Lucinda?”

“She might, yes. Any answer that stops short of me plugging Mira regularly while I was falling for Coral is okay.”

“Dammit! I know what you’re asking and I’m not going to keep lying for you!”

“Don’t lie, then. If Coral ever asks point blank if Mira and I were fucking all along, then tell her the truth. Anything short of that, however, you don’t volunteer any damaging information. Deal?”

“You’re a fucking prick, you know that?”

“I’m your favorite prick. Just go that far, Grace, and no farther. I’ll handle the rest. You can trust me.”

“Ha!”

“I’m serious. Coral already lobbed a hand grenade at everything I’ve been trying to hide from her. I’ve surrendered, whether you believe that or not. I’m letting her call the shots — hell, I even had a dream about trusting Coral, including her dark side. Do you realize how rare that is, that even her dark side is beautiful to me? Now that I’m with this woman, I really am a changed man. My wife is in the lead now, and I’m just following.”

“I don't believe it, because all you know how to follow is your dick!”

“Ouch. Vodka makes you that mean?”

“Yes!” she fumed. “You want to talk about dark sides? The truth is that underneath the smooth exterior, you’re mostly a fucking sex- obsessed compulsive liar! Do you deny it?”

I cleared my throat, and spoke softly and evenly into the phone. “I guess you told Lucinda a good while back that you had me hypnotize her into needing to fuck you so badly. It was so noble of you, confessing that way to let your girlfriend know how devious and manipulative you can be.”

Grace blew air out of her nose, sounding for a moment like a fire- breathing dragon ready to incinerate the phone in her hand. “That… is…”

“The truth. Do you deny it?”

If we weren’t separated by hundreds of miles, she probably would have thrown her drink in my face. Another silence, and I could feel her making a conscious decision inside to calm down. It wasn’t easy for her, but she took a couple of deep breaths, and her voice was changed when she spoke again.

“Personal attack withdrawn, Michael. Pot calling the kettle black and all that. I shouldn’t have gone that far.”

“Ditto. And you know I love you, no matter what.”

“I’m just so… flummoxed! I always knew that you needed a collar and a leash, but Coral?”

“I still worship at your feet for bringing her to me, Grace. We really are perfect for each other.”

“I believe that. Although I’m also beginning to wonder what I’ve unleashed upon humanity.”

“Humanity is safe. I’m busy most of the time working with the sick and dying, and Coral hides away in her studio, drawing and painting. Our sex life might have taken a sudden unexpected turn, but what harm does that do? Mira isn’t married anymore, so nobody is being hurt.”

“I’m not convinced somehow. I get this feeling…”

“What kind of feeling?”

“A ‘Danger danger Will Robinson’ feeling. Like I know that something terrible is about to happen, and nobody is listening. I’m serious, Michael. Something isn’t right, no matter what you say.”

“I think you’re just jealous.”

“Jealous? Of what?”

“You’ve always wanted to plant your head between Mira’s thighs, or between Coral’s tits. They’ve tasted each other’s impeccable treasures and you’re stuck on the sidelines.”

“That’s total bullshit,” she protested a bit too quickly. “I couldn’t be happier with my life, including my sex life.”

“I’m sure you are,” I said, preparing to transition. “And I want to see your shining happiness again. We want to see you and Lucinda, soon. I really miss you, you know.”

“And I miss you. You’re such a dick, but this city isn’t the same without you.”

“We’re going to throw a party up here, Grace, and we want you and Lucinda to be here. In fact, we insist. The party doesn’t happen unless you’re here for it. We have plenty of room — you can stay with us if you’d like. We’ll even put you up somewhere if that would make it happen.”

“Will Mira be at this party?”

“I don’t know. I won’t invite her, but Coral might. Why?”

“I’ll feel like I’ve entered an alternate universe if I see your mistress and your wife looking all comfortable with each other in the same room. It's... unnatural! You know that, don’t you?”

“Then you and me will stand in a corner together, observing and trying to figure out the rules of the new universe. It won’t be awkward for you, Grace. We'll show you a good time, I promise.”

We consulted calendars and came up with a date that worked, and said our good-byes.

I smelled grilled meat wafting up from the back yard, and surmised that Coral and Scarlet had returned, with dinner imminent. I called Judith next, knowing that the conversation could be as long or short as I chose.

“I want your ass over here promptly at nine,” I demanded, not even bothering to say hello.

“Oh thank God you called! You don’t know… how horny I’ve been! Out of nowhere I…”

“Bullshit. I know exactly how horny you’ve been, because I caused it. Seen any good birds or planes lately?”

“I can’t even believe what you can make me feel!” she panted into the phone. “What you did… How you…”

“Shut up, Judith. You’re talking too much.”

A stifled cry of delight, and then what must be a pussy-wetting silence.

“Nine, tonight. A minute late and I’ll be very angry. A minute early and I’ll be even angrier. Wear a super-tight short dress with sexy stockings, and stop at a liquor store on your way over. Buy a good Pinot Noir — a good one, if I don’t like it you’ll be punished. And rub the tops of three different wine bottles against your pussy lips before you pick out my wine. Make sure that somebody sees you — it’s time for total strangers to witness how a hot hypno-cunt like you follows orders for her master.”

The line stayed silent, but I could practically see the heated emanations flying out the mouthpiece of my phone. I hung up on her without saying good-bye, picked up my drained glass and went down the two flights to the dining room. Coral had the table arranged for us with candles and a vase of summer flowers from the yard. Barefoot and dressed in shorts and the tiniest and tightest of blouses, no bra, she brought in a light meal of grilled chicken and summer vegetables. Our eyes met and danced together, filled with deep affection and barely contained mischief.

“It’s all arranged,” I informed her. “Grace and Lucinda will come.”

“I like the way you put that,” Coral smirked. “It’s going to be a party to remember.”

“And Judith agreed to come over tonight.”

“Then it will be a night to remember, too. How will you…”

“A short private session upstairs. I need to practice a bit of real therapy to make certain she’s in a strong enough place to be hypnotized. If she is, then… Well…”

“It’s terribly unethical, isn’t it? Fucking a client, or allowing your wife to fuck a client?”

“Terribly. There probably isn't anything worse.”

“But she’s not a real client anyway,” Coral semi-justified. “I mean, you just needed to clean up the little mess I made. It isn't like she came to you wanting months or years of deep psychological work.”

True. Judith had come to me because she had deeply rooted sexual drives that her instincts told her I could help with. I was helping, alright. I was helping her to want to do anyfuckingthing I said, and get off from it.

Coral put her fork down, and brought both hands to her breasts, hefting one from underneath, straining the material of her blouse. The sight brought to mind the shadowy prostitute version of my wife from my dream. Was the real Coral any different any more? I had freed her inner whore, or empowered it, and that sex-obsessed aspect was clearly running the show.

“When it comes to manipulating Judith's psyche, your wishes will be my commands,” I finally answered her on the Judith front. “You’re taking the lead on these matters, Coral. I have the technical skills, but I’m just following.”

She fixed her eyes on mine, the corner of her mouth lifting. “About my wishes… The school year will be starting soon, and I’ve volunteered my services on the committee that hires the models for the drawing and painting courses.”

“How dutiful,” I commented.

“Quite.”

“I'll bet the school's models suddenly get more female and a lot better looking."

"It could happen. Everybody likes to observe a beautiful woman."

"Don’t do anything that gets you fired.”

“I’ll be as crafty as a mouse. Otherwise the fun ends before it’s barely begun. I’m thinking about the long term, Michael. Always. There’s no reason why we can’t explore the limits for years and years. We'll have more fun than you can shake your dick at.”

“I knew there must have been a reason for marrying you.”

“For better or worse,” she recited. “For richer or poorer and hotter and even hotter. Weren’t those our vows?”

I laughed, but Coral looked dead serious, like it might truly be the way she remembered it. She put her fork down, and gulped half a glass of wine. Rising from her chair, she unpeeled her blouse from her body, and then returned to her seat and calmly resumed eating. With her big firm breasts pointing right at me, nipples fully erect, she said: “You don’t mind if I eat dinner like this from now on, do you?”

I knew the shape and form of her breasts would never cease to amaze me. She knew it, too. “I can live with it,” I replied, my cock completely hard under the table.

She stared down at her breasts and smiled. I wondered what kind of thoughts sifted around in her mind now, and whether she had even a shred of doubt about the recent turns in her attitudes and desires. I tried to read her features, her body language, but I could only see what I was coming to think of as the “new” Coral, more like the raven- haired basement bombshell from my dream than the sexually potent yet cautious woman I’d first met. As I tried to peer into the more ordinary layers that must still reside in her, she cupped her right breast again, bare now, and gently rolled her nipple with her fingers, and let out a soft sigh. Without looking up she said, “Your sex-fiend wife would like to hear more about the ‘special’ woman you hired at work. What was her name again?”

“Anya. She’ll be moving up here shortly.”

“And she’s… like me,” she whispered, squeezing her breast harder with her hand.

“She’s a head-turner and more than a handful, yes.”

“But is she into women?”

I could see the next few moves as though Coral and I were shifting pieces on a chessboard, only playing by slightly different rules. She didn't know it, but some of the pieces she assumed to be hers were actually mine to line up and put into position. “How could I know that?” I answered. “Anya’s sexual preferences certainly weren’t among the questions we asked at the interviews.”

“I want her here for our party. We need to welcome her properly,” she continued. “And maybe… Could you make someone like women?”

“It’s possible, but I don't really know. Listen — I’ll go almost anywhere you want to go, Coral, but Anya needs to be a no-go zone for the both of us. I can’t hypnotize a colleague and go to bed with her. It would be crazy. It would bring my entire professional life crashing down.”

She pouted. "Isn't there some way..."

"Not a colleague," I repeated. "Bad idea. I'd end up as a mug shot in the newspaper."

More pouting, then she brightened. “Then I’ll have to have compensation.”

“What kind?” I asked, ready to clear the dishes away and fuck her right on the table. Her single mindedness was inspiring.

“I’ve left messages with Mira, but she hasn’t returned them.”

Probably setting up her new house or apartment, I thought. She’d show up again, but on her own terms, whatever that meant.

“No Mira around, and your sexy wife is craving more three-way action.”

I looked at my watch. “It’s only an hour until Judith arrives.”

“Just enough time to savor that movie you promised me. Let’s watch it together on the couch so I can judge the goods.”

“Movies,” I corrected, my cock aching. “She's made quite a few, I think.”

“Even better,” she whispered, rising again and coming to me to take my hand. She pulled me into the living room, and onto the couch. “You’ve been such a naughty boy."

"How is that?"

"You shouldn’t have kept secrets like this for so long. You should have told me about this girl the second you knew I wanted to share lovers with you. Think of all the fun we could have had already.”

We arranged ourselves, my laptop balanced on my thighs and Coral’s exposed tits pressed hard against my right arm. To think that I didn't need to hide this stuff anymore, because my wife was in perpetual audition mode. I surfed to the website I knew so well, and clicked on the name ”Rose Bloom”.

“Holy shit!” Coral gasped when she saw the first photo. Rosita was in profile with her head thrown back, her hands hefting her jutting tits, which seemed to go on forever. “She’s… huge! And look at those eyes, those lips…”

“This one is good,” I clicked, and a window appeared with a film of Rosita masturbating in the shower. Coral didn’t make a sound as the movie unfolded, but her tits pressing into me felt hot against my skin, as though her flesh was on fire.

"She mouthed your name when she came!” she observed at the end.

Decision time. Would it be too much to tell her? Trusting how lost Coral was within her fog of hypno-lust, I chose the unvarnished truth for a change, crossing my fingers. “I told her under hypnosis to say my name anytime she came. Apparently it worked. She might not even know she’s doing it.”

An inward gasp of breath, and Coral reaching down under the laptop to grasp my cock hard through my jeans. If she was shocked, or jealous, or thought she had married an underhanded deviant controlling monster, this was the kind of condemnation I could live with.

We watched the next film with my wife squeezing my dick the entire twelve minutes. Rosita fucked the gearshift of a parked sports car in this one, grasping the edge of a sunroof to leverage her body for fast and deep penetration. When she addressed her gearshift lover as "Michael" when she came, Coral was outright panting, a hand crammed down her shorts.

“We have to have her!” she shouted. “Where does she live? Do you still have her number?”

“We’re completely out of touch,” I lied, deciding against informing my wife that Rosita still sent affectionate emails with links to her films. Sure we were going to seduce her together, but best not to make it appear like I always had her waiting in the wings. “I think she has her own site now,” I offered, and we went there.

“She’s going to tour!” Coral saw in a flash.

Indeed. Rosita was on her way to becoming a rising star in the world of big bust entertainment, and would be dancing in a city less than two hours from where we lived.

“We have to go!” Coral exploded.

I couldn’t see anything to fear in taking my wife to a club to watch Rosita dance, other than the fact that Coral looked like an internet model herself, and might draw a ton of unwanted attention.

We watched two more films, one of Rosita pole-dancing and stripping in front of a small audience, the other where she teased herself to orgasm in a Jacuzzi. We were about to open a third film involving a leopard-striped dildo when we heard a knock at the door. I looked at my watch — precisely nine o’clock.

“Where do you want me?” Coral asked. “When should I come in?”

“Go to your studio with the door closed,” I said. “I’ll let you know when it’s time. If it’s time.”

“Oh God, make it work! I’m sooooo hot!”

Weren’t we all, and things were going to get a lot hotter very soon.