	"god, I want him!" she said, pressing her thighs together.  We were in a restaurant having dinner with the drummer in my band.  We had been playing together for a few years, but this was the first time my wife had met him, because I tend to keep the two parts of my life seperate, music and writing, and my wife was definitely on the writing side of that equation.
	Charles had gone to the men's room.
	I was not surprised that she wanted him, she had been fantacising about black men for ten years, nor was I surprised that she was telling me about it, as we shared everything,  What was surprising was that she was sitting in a crowded restaraunt, blushing furiously while telling me.  And looking like she was about to come.  Maybe she already had.
	"Yeah, well, you can't have him, he is my drummer.  Good way to fuck up the band, let my drummer sleep with my wife."
	She looked at me.  We had never seriously considered taking other partners before, but we had kidded and joked, and in bed we had fantacised and role-played, but that was it.  SO I nearly fell off my chair when she said "Please?" with that same look she gets when she wants to buy something we can't afford.
	I looked at her, into her eyes. "You are serious?"
	If I thought she couldnt't have blushed any more, I was surprised, because when she said "yes" in a small voice, she turned so red I thought she was going to pass out.  I actually heard a small moan after she said it.
	"Did you just come?"
	She breathed a deep sigh, closed her eyes and moaned again, and then nodded.
	I was silent for a few more moments, then shook my head slowly
	"baby, I KNOW the type of woman Charles goes for, and you arent it.  I am sorry.  If I thought ..."
	She looked at me grinning broadly.  "But he doesn't know me!  So he doesn't know what I am like.  So I can be whatever --"
	I cut her off, because Charles was returning.  
	She hardly said anything for the rest of the evening, and when we got home, she attacked me before i had my jacket off.  She was wild, ferocious.
	
	After we had done it on the living room floor, in the stairwell, in the master bedroom and on the veranda, we talked.
	"Is it because I am white?" she asked.
	I laughed almost hysterically.
	"No, it isn't because you are white, baby.  White women, black women, yellow women.  Big women, small women.  Hell, when we played at Mardi Gras last year, he had two GREEN women.  They glittered, too. He said they were sisters."
	"Then what's wrong with me?  Too old?  Too ugly?"  She was 35, and quite beatiful. Charles was in his late fourties, and dated mostly women about his age.
	"Too shy." I said, honestly.  "and he knows it.  I talk about you a lot, you know.  I LIKE the fact that you are shy, that you blush, that you get embarassed. Blushing women turn me on."
	She blushed.  "But what turns Charles on?"
	I looked at her.  "Women who like to do the things you don't like to do" I said, and immediately regretted it, because it was clear I had hurt her feelings.
	We didn't talk about it again for quite some time.  About six months.  Then Charles had a fire at his apartment, and I told him he could come stay with us until stuff got squared away.  He agreed.

	I had done a great deal of thinking, and I decided that if I could make it happen for her, I would.  The only question was how, and I thought I could answer that.

	After our gig the night he was supposed to start sleeping in our guest room, I called home and told my wife "Don't go to sleep.  Turn the intercom on in the livingroom, and the bedroom.  Listen carefully to what goes on.  If you still want him, tell me so the first time I come upstairs."
	"What?" she asked, breathlessly.  I could almost HEAR the blush in her voice.
	"You heard me.  Still want him?"
	All I heard was a low, shy, embarassed moan.  I got hard immediately.

	We came in, and stored our gear, and set Charles' stuff in his room.  Walking past it, I saw that the intercom really was on, and we sat down, me in the big black recliner I liked, and he sprawled over the couch.  Charles is an enormous man, standing six feet seven inches.  He was a drummer, and had drummers arms, large and very well muscled.  THe rest of him was in pretty good shape, too.  He wasnt a bodybuilder, but he was taking good care of himself.
	I got us a few beers and we settled back to relax, and shoot the shit for a while.  Finally I sighed and said "well, I gotta turn in.  Wish me luck."  I said, then sighed and started to get up.
	"You need luck to get to sleep?"  he said, smirking.
	"Tonight I do, yeah." I replied.
	"What the hell are you talking about, man?"  he asked.
	I sat back down. "It is Julie.  She is.."
	"That time of the month, huh?"  he said, with a commiserating sigh.
	"Not exactly." I said, then sighed. "Most women have one 'time of the month'."  I started, acting like I was reluctantly telling him. "Julie has two.  She has the B-days and the S-days."  I stopped, trying to look like I was trying to find the words. "B is for bitch, of course.  S is for Slut" I said, finally.
	He leaned forward.  "What?"
	"I figure it must be when she is ovulating or something, because it is regular like clockwork, but for two days every month she turns into a complete slut.  I mean, man, she HAS to have it, and have it, and have it.  Jesus, in the two hours before the gig tonight, she must have come eight or nine times.  That's why I was so tired. I bet she has been up there playing with herself for the last four hours, waiting for me to get home to give her some more."
	"And you are complaining?"  He said, grinning.  "She is georgous, go get her!  Don't let me hold you back."
	"I gotta rest some more, man.  it is draining as hell" I said, and sat back down.
	He was still leaning forward, like he wanted me to continue.  When I didn't, he prodded me, saying "How long has this been going on?"
	"Ever since we got married.  23 days she is miss prim-and-proper, 3 days she is a psycho bitch, 2 days she is a porn queen.  It took us forever to get used to it, you know?  I mean, she would do shit those two days, and then be ashamed of what she had done for a while, and then threaten to leave me if I ever asked her to do any of that stuff again, then back to being ashamed, then start all over again."
	"Sounds complicated.  Now what I need is someone like that I can borrow for the two days, and then give back for the rest of the month.  Wait a minute, I guess I need 14 of them, and the timing needs to be right...." he said, and we both laughed.
	We sat for a while, silently, while I tried to look like I was trying to get up the strength.  Then, he said "You are bullshitting me, man.  I have never heard of anything like that before"
	"No, man, it is the god's honest truth"
	"sure it is."  he said dismissively, and then "Why would she be ashamed?"
	"If you knew the things she did, you'd understand."
	"So tell me, already"
	I smiled to myself, and started to lie my ass off.  If Julie wanted him, I was going to make her work for it.  I was going to talk her up as the most outrageous slut, so he would know what to expect, and then I was going to go up and ask her if she was going to live up to it.  I knew she was listening.  She had said she could pretend to be the type of girl he wanted, and I was going to put that to the test.
	"When it started, it was just pretty straightforward stuff, nothing too outrageous.  She didint even know what was going on yet.  She was a virgin when we met, and I am still the only man she has ever had."
	"Right, a complete slut, and only ONE lover?  you are full of shit." he said, laughing.
	"Well, like I said, at first it was just straight stuff, you know, missionary position in-and-out.  She wouldnt even do oral, give or recieve..  But I could tell it wasnt making her happy.  We would fuck for hours, she would come and come and come and never seem to be satisfied.  I'd usually fall asleep after five hours, and she would be pretending to sleep too, but her hand would be between her legs and her finger on her clit for hours longer, sometimes all night, sometimes even in her sleep.
	I got kind of fed up with the lack of variety, and I hadn't really caught on to what was happening and how regularly.  So next time she got really intense like that, I stopped.  She asked me to keep going, then she TOLD me to keep going.  Then, finally, she BEGGED me to make her come some more.  And the wierd thing was, when she begged, she came.  She wasn't touching herself or anything, she just got really quiet and said 'please, I'll do anything' and it was like, just saying it turned her on so much that it was enough, and she started with the Big O right there.  So I asked her to suck me off, and she refused.  I was kind of perplexed, then a light suddenly went on, and instead of asking, I TOLD her to give me head.  I grabbed her by the hair and yanked her head down and stuffed it into her mouth.  Again, it was like fireworks, all of a sudden she was wriggling like crazy and moaning onto my dick and coming over and over again."
	"Damn, man, you are married to my dream girl!"
	I laughed.  "yeah, but only for two days a month.  the rest of the time she is a schoolmarm prude"  I replied. "And for about a week after her S-days, I am glad of the break.  But then there is a two week drought, then a hell-weekend, then some more nothing, then start all over again with the screaming and the coming."
	I thought I heard a slight moan from the intercom, which was right next to my ear, but Charles was still talking so he did not notice.
	"So how wild does she get?  How wild COULD she get?  I mean, she has only had you..."
	"Remember the night you met her?  at the Longshoreman Restaurant?"
	"Yeah" he said.
	I said the first true words in the conversation.  "She came three times that night, twice when you were sitting only a few feet away."
	I definitely heard a small moan from the intercom.  I could almost feel her blushing wildly at this admission, I could almost feel her humiliation, thinking about the predicament I had put her in.  If she really wanted him, she would have to act in exactly the way I had described.  I KNEW she wanted him, but I didn't know if she dared to go through with it.  I was about to make it worse for her, to REALLY test how much she wanted him.
	"After that, she would do anything I told her to do, just so I would keep getting her off."
	"Well?"  he asked, sitting on the edge of the couch, listening intently, bent forward.  His erection was clearly visible in his jeans. "What kind of stuff?  How kinky did you get?"
	"Hell, after that I didn't HAVE to get kinky, she begged for whatever she wanted, and I just had to make her go one step further.  For instance, after she had given me head, the next S-day, I told her I was going to come in her mouth.  She moand and came, just at the thought, as she was saying 'no, I hate that, no!"  But of course, I made her do it, both hands arouond the back of her head, not letting her get away.  I came, she gagged, and then started shouting onto my dick, swallowing and pumping me with her hand.  Now, during the S-days, I don't come anywhere else, except sometimes on her face.  She loves it and hates it at the same time, man."
	He was still listening intently.  "What else?"
	"I made her go into a store and by a box of kleenex with my come dripping off her chin.  I mean it was obvious.  She was so turned on by it, she could barely walk."
	"Damn" he said, and the lust was clear in his voice.  "What else?"
	"I made her get under the table at a fancy restaurant and suck me off.  I think maybe twenty or thirthy people saw her do it, including the waiter.  Another time I made her pick up a guy in a bar, and dance with him.  I told her to get him hard, to make him WANT her.  She was rubbing him and stickingher tits in his face.  She unbutoned her shirt almost to the waist.  I told her not to wear a bra, so she was giving him quite a show.  Then she told him to stand still, and she danced just for him, with a lot of side-to-side motion so that her tits were swaying and bobbing arouond in her shirt.  Her nipples were sticking out like pencils.  We left quickly and she was sucking me off and fingering herself before I was out of second gear."
	"Now, though, she gets off on this stuff without me making her do it.  She is just a slut, man, a complete and total cocksucking, facefucking slut, and she WANTS to do the stuff that made her ashamed before.  But only for those two days.  The rest of the time, she is Mother Teresa"
	"What kind of stuff is she into now?"
	"Flashing people.  About three times a year we get a hotel room, something on the ground floor, with windows that look out onto a fairly open spot, and she leaves the curtains open.  Sometimes I fuck her from behind as she presses her nipples against the glass.  If somebody goes by, she will close her eyes and make a loud noise to attract attention.  If I tell her somebody is watching, she gets off HARD."
	"Damn" he said again.
	"Yeah.  But tonight, it is going to be just her and me.  I am going to lick her till she comes 5 or 6 times, then Ill fuck her for 5 or 6 more, then I'll fuck her face while she plays with her clit, and then I'll shoot it in her mouth as she moans and comes and sucks.  Then, she will be playing with herself until morning.  It is amazing, man."
	We sat for a long time, and then I made like I was getting ready to go, and he said "I still don't believe all this shit, man."
	Here goes, i said to myself, and said "I can prove it, Charles."
	"How?"
	"She made a video for me a few years ago."
	His eyes brightened.  "And you'd let me see it?"
	"Gotta prove what I am saying somehow"  I said.  This time I definitely heard a moan from the intercom.  I cleared my throat and coughed a few times to cover up the sound of my wife, coming at the thought that I was about to show him the videotape I had urged and begged her to make, for years, and promised solemnly that I would never show to another human being. "I'll go get it" I said, and trotted quickly upstairs.
	She was naked, on her back.  Her left hand was grasping her right breast and squeezing hard, and her right hand was at her cunt, two fingers going in and out as her palm pressed against her clit.  Her eyes were closed and her mouth was wide open, her tongue running around and around her lips as though she was pretending to lick a dick.  She heard me come in, and she came, and it was obvious that she was doing all she could to keep from screaming.  I reached over and turned off the "Send" button on the intercom.
	"Hey, it is all up to you, now.  You can either give me the tape and let me take it down to him, or I can go back down and tell him you have hidden it, like you occasionally do."
	"What then?"
	"We watch it.  Then, you have a choice.  You can just let it go at that, of you can decide to be a complete slut, go down there, and tell him you want him.  He is already hard as a rock, I have no doubt that he will say yes.  But remember, you have to be ALL that I told him you were, every bit.  He loves sluts, you see.  the more aggressive, the more wanton, the more slutty the better, understand?"
	I watched her, waiting for an answer.  She moaned, closed her eyes and came, then pinched both her nipples, and came again."
	"It is in the top drawer of the beureau."
	"Get it" I said.  "There isnt going to be any doubt who is doing this and why, baby.  You are going to have to do it all yourself, now, from now on.  Still want him?"
	She stood up, and walked over to the beureau and got out the tape.  "Show it to him" she said.
	As I walked down the stairs with it, I saw her go to the closet.  Maybe to pick out something slutty to wear.
	And as I walked down the stairs, I had an idea.  Maybe I could make a deal with my wife and my drummer.  In return for letting him have her one day a month, maybe she would agree to do whatever I told her for one day a month.  The rest of the month I would leave her alone, if she wanted.  One day of slavery to me, one day of sluthood for him, and twenty eight days of peace.  I thought she would go for it, I knew HE would go for it, and I would certainly give her a workout on MY day.  And my next thought was that it was almost a certainty that one of HIS days we would have a gig.  An exhibitionist total slut, a blues band, and a crowded bar seemed like all the ingredients for heaven to me.
	I took the tape down to Charles.
		
	