“It all started that night, after I released you from the ropes that had kept your wrists and ankles fixed to the four corners of our marital bed. You looked adorable after having been filled so completely both between your buttocks and inside your well used cunt.

You immediately wrapped your arms around me and kissed me on my mouth, thankful for the rough sex you always crave so desperately. But this time the kiss was different.

Slightly hesitant.

As if you wanted to tell me something, something that you were not sure of yourself.

“I love you, you know that, my darling” you said, “I love you so much. Not only your strong manly torso, your big steely tool, and your violent ways of handling my body, but what I even more relish in you, is that you chose me to be the object of your pleasures. I wish I could submerge myself still deeper into the raw landscapes of your mind. It’s never enough for me, I always want more.”

“I know your cravings to be abused, Jenny. But am I not enough then? You’re not satisfied? I thought I did enough to satisfy even that masochistic streak of yours,” And after a moment I added thoughtfully:  “and my own cruel one…of course.”

“I am sure of that, Rudolph, but still, each time… each time you fuck me, each time you debase me… each and every occasion just makes me want more.”

“More? What more would you like? Your skin is so marked by my teeth that you often don’t dare to show your throat, you have to wear high-necked blouses. And I enjoy the flesh of your breasts and belly so badly, that you need to recuperate each time for days after. I can’t cut you up with knives or whip your skin to ribbons, can I? You love submission, humiliation, debasement. But you hate pain. I know that. I would like to torture you. But I don’t want to do anything to you that would make you stop wanting me. Is that your wish? To let me torture you…?”

You shook your head and remained silent for a while. Then suddenly you whispered in my ears that it wasn’t that. And that I had no idea of the darkest of your dark fantasies.

“And what might that be, my love?” I asked, kissing your beautiful throat, and getting a bit aroused from anticipating something new and unexpected.”

“I’m afraid to tell you.”

I smiled. “To be honest, I can’t imagine what more would satisfy my lusts, or yours.”

“It’s about my own secret cravings,” you said, “even more maybe than about your cruel lusts,” and whispering again you added, “although I know they might well be linked.”

Now you piqued my curiosity. I looked at you with a big question mark all over my face. “What do you mean?”

Then, almost inaudibly you whispered: ”It’s a terribly weird and terribly black humiliation fantasy.”

“Tell me!” I blurted out impatiently as I felt my member stir anew.

You waited as if to build up tension. Then slowly you said: “You know Ruth, my dearest and closest friend?”

“Of course I do.”

“She’s very beautiful – much more than me. You like her, don’t you?”

“Well, yes…. I do.”  

“She told me she has the hots for you too.”

That was news for me. Although for quite some time I had already suspected it, I had never brought the issue up between the two of us or, for that matter, with Ruth herself. So I smiled. “Are you telling me,” I said, “that you would like to do a threesome with Ruth?”

“No,” you said. “Just a threesome would not be… demeaning enough, I think.”

“So?”

“You know how much I crave to be degraded and debased.”

“You want her to dominate you, then? Together with me, or something like that?”
You hesitated but remained silent. However, now you began to look into my eyes with an expression of growing lust. “What is it you want, then?” I asked.

“I want… I want you to take her as your lover, your sweetheart, your bed companion….” You were quiet for a moment. Then you softly said: “Take her as my replacement…”

Quite some time passed before those words sank in, and both of us remained silent for many minutes. I could hear how, next to me, your breathing had accelerated.

Finally I said, “Is that what you want? You want me to… abandon you?”

“Yes,” you whispered. “It would be my ultimate degradation…”

I started to protest. “But you can’t mean…,” I began, but you cut me short, pressing your hand over my mouth.

“Shhhh, my love, don’t say anything… I want the two of you to… to treat me with contempt, like I am deep beneath you, or worse than that, a servant, a sexual slave, a fucking animal… to humiliate and abuse me, to fuck me in whatever way would please you… to reduce me to nothing… even to… to discard me…”

“Discard you…?”

“Yes… I’d be turned on so much… I get such a kick just from imagining it…. it would almost be like… like being killed.”

I was quiet for a while. “Killed…?”

“Yesss,” you whispered, and a wave of passion washed over you, your face blushing with fierce arousal. “It would be my ultimate degradation… I want to be dissolved, to be broken, by you and your lover,” you whispered, rolling over and digging your nails into my back.  Encircling your thighs around me, you shivered below me, suddenly as horny as hell. And thus you finished your confession: “That is,” you whispered, “the blackest of my black fantasies.”

I let my hands wander over your body, moving towards the soft fleshy apex between your legs and I felt how wet your entrance had become, how ready to be fucked again...

And thus your fate had been sealed…


***

Ruth arrived in a smashing and very sexy blouse and skirt. Her firm but agile figure and her attractive breasts looked more than just appetizing. But of course I restrained myself. So after the usual niceties, the two of us found ourselves somewhat uneasily seated opposite each other, sipping drinks. You, obviously nervous, ran between the kitchen and our dinner table, busy dressing it with our silver cutlery, wine glasses and candles. And all the while, Ruth and I tried in a forced manner to engage in small talk.

Finally, provoked by the meaningless clichés we were exchanging, I dared to compliment her on her outfit. It made her blush, and she answered that I did not look bad either. I saw how her hand trembled when she took up her glass.

That effectively did away with any options for further small talk. So I took the plunge. “Do you know,” I asked, “why Jenny invited you here tonight?”

She hesitated visibly and became beet red. But she gave me a small affirmative nod and, looking straight into my eyes, said: “Yes Rudolph… I know….” And softly she added: “I guess you do too…”

We both remained silent after that. You entered with the flowers Ruth had brought and placed them in an elegant vase on the table. Then, after a quick look at us, you left again for the kitchen. But I noticed your face was flushed.

When I returned my gaze to Ruth, I again noted what a fine woman she was to look at. Slightly larger than you, slightly more filled. But with a beautiful open and inviting face.

She did not speak. Neither did I. We just kept looking into each other’s eyes. It felt almost like physical contact. Then suddenly Ruth opened her well-formed mouth and asked a simple question, but one that raised my blood pressure considerably:

“Do you want to be my lover?”

My heart skipped a beat and I did not answer right away. Instead I just took a big swig from my drink. Finally I surprised myself by saying: “You don’t really want to know, Ruth…. ” I swallowed again. And suddenly the reckless words flew out of my mouth. “…. I can’t wait to have you…”

Miraculously, Ruth took in what had been said without moving a muscle. But then it was she who needed to take a swig from her glass, after which she just said: “I know, Rudolph…, Jenny told me…”

“Did she?”

“Yes…”

“What exactly did she tell you then, if I may ask?”

“That you wouldn’t mind laying me…”

I smiled. “Anything else?”

“No, not really… Just that she too eh… kind of liked the idea… of you and me… well… you know…”

“Just that? Nothing else?” My heartbeat must have been audible. But I tried to keep looking naively, even expectant.

“Well… also that she wants to be… eh… likes to be… kind of set aside… She kicks on humiliation, she said….”

“Did she really tell you that?” I answered, trying to keep a straight face upon hearing that this intimate secret between us had apparently been shared with Ruth.

Ruth nodded. “We are close friends,” she said, “we tell each other such things… I mean little secrets… private things like that.”

I hesitated to ask, but then mustered enough courage to put another question to her: “What did she say more… I mean about my own wants…?”

Ruth waited a moment and blushed again. “Nothing much. That you liked that little vice of hers. And, as I said, that you’d like to fuck me…”

The temperature in the room seemed to have risen considerably. You were still out in the kitchen. So I got up and walked over to Ruth. Seeing me approach, she froze in her chair, clutching her by now empty glass in her hand. I took that hand, carefully placed the glass on the small table before us, and pulled her up to stand on her beautiful legs.

No resistance. But she trembled.

Thus I embraced her. And finally she responded, first hesitantly, but then more and more eagerly, and finally seeking my mouth with hers. Stroking my face with her free hand, she whispered: “Oh Rudolph… Rudolph… I’ve longed for this for so long… I want you too…” And before we both knew what happened, I had her laying on the carpet, our hands groping for each other’s clothes, our mouths kissing like mad.

With fast impatient movements, Ruth undid the clasp of my belt and zipped open my fly, letting my rigid staff sway closely before her. “Ah…” she exclaimed. And feeling with one hand how steely hard I was, she let her head fall backward in sudden abandon.

I hastened to unbutton her blouse, hooked loose her bra and bared two pale-skinned full and luxurious breasts. Immediately I started to feast on them, kissing and sucking wildly on those delicious delicacies. There was a flutter of movements below me as Ruth hoisted up her skirt and freed herself hurriedly from her panties. It made me lose all caution, and immediately I met her with my lusting lower body, pinning her down, and sinking my whole length into her very wet love entrance… like a knife sliding into butter…

Ruth responded immediately and deliciously, making rasping and gasping noises below me, clutching and clasping my body as if I were a lifebuoy in stormy waters. And I felt lost in heaven, heaving and lowering my loins in deep lustful waves, until my shaft sparked like a sorcerer’s staff, and together we burst into a huge convulsive orgasm. I sprayed Ruth’s insides abundantly with loads and loads of seed, and she called out my name, squeezing the last drop out of me with the fierce cramping of her abdominal muscles.

When, finally we had come to rest I looked up and saw you, holding yourself steady against the edge of the table, which you had dressed so festively. You looked at us, pale faced, and with your mouth open.

I finally gained the strength to stand up and zip my fly back into a semblance of respectability. Ruth remained lying on the floor, curled up like a contented cat, even producing soft nasal sounds, still awash in the pleasures she had just received.

Looking at you, I saw how arousing the scene had been for you, and how wanting you were. So with a quick movement I grabbed you by your hair and pushed you down on your knees. “You liked that, eh, little bitch!” I snarled. “Now go suck my muck from her cunt, and do it quick and efficient. I don’t want her to be leaking between her legs while we’re having dinner.”

And you did as I ordered. Your face showed first tears, but you obeyed. It shamelessly betrayed how much you loved to be degraded. Slowly you bend down and buried your face between Ruth’s glistening moist thighs. And while I listened to the sucking and slurping noises you made, I watched the spectacle of Ruth squeezing your face between her muscular thighs, and crashing into another giant orgasm.

Thus Ruth and I became lovers.

***

But things do not usually end up as planned. Although Ruth moved in with us within a matter of days, you did not seem to enjoy it as much as you had fancied. Within a few weeks you became moody, sometimes even right out annoyed. Especially in the morning, when serving Ruth and me our breakfast while we were still kissing each other in the bed that once used to be only yours and mine.

But it was too late now. Reality is no fantasy. It’s no red carpet that can be rolled out at will whenever there is a party and then rolled in again later. Ruth and I quickly, and very much, fell in love with each other. It was quite different from the love between you and me.  More tender, more endearing, more satisfying. And it soon turned out that we were of the same mind. Before you knew what happened we’d made you into a submissive sexual play thing. I have to confess that I too had not foreseen how easily that would come about.

In the beginning there were many occasions where we thoroughly enjoyed your small body in bed. We mainly fucked you together, mostly using your mouth and your tight small asshole, smearing you with our juices, making you suck all our sexual organs. And you seemed to be rather enthusiastic about it too.

But then a new stage happened. Ruth developed a taste for much more cruelty, often surpassing mine. It was a revelation. I had not expected it. But I enjoyed it intensely. She quickly learned how to use my belt on you, and later bought her own whip on the internet, a heavy fearsome bullwhip, especially for use on you.

I had never treated you that badly and feared you would not like it at all. But, at least initially, you appeared to go along with her change of mind. Your masochistic streak seemed to allow you to derive pleasure from the intense pain Ruth and I made you suffer. And indeed, we often brought about in you what looked like quite satisfying orgasms.

However, gradually it became clear to me, that it was essentially the humiliation of being forced, for our amusement, to brave these tortures. It was that which gave you those erotic kicks.

Judging from your howls and cries when we played so cruelly with that small delicate body of yours, you still seemed to hate the pain itself, notwithstanding your masochistic mind. Each time that cruel smile appeared on Ruth’s face, each time she asked me to undress you, each time she had me bind your wrists behind you, you begged for clemency in wild panic. But Ruth and I just loved it. I have particular sweet memories of all those nights where we hung you from your wrists in our bedroom, trampling the air in desperate attempts to evade our whips, until Ruth and I sank down on what was now our bed, so excited and so aroused that we fucked each other like rabbits, forgetting about you still hanging there.

I wondered why you did not end those terrible tortures we forced upon you. You could easily have left us. That is, until that night when Ruth wasn’t at home, when you and I had a rare occasion for a really intimate talk. And you confessed to me that you were ready to take anything, to suffer the most horrible pain, from her as well as from me, just to keep me in your life.

That explained a lot. But it also should have rung a warning bell.

Because within a few more months those possessive feelings grew suffocating. You became kind of sticky, clinging glutinous at me, usually just before Ruth and I decided to go to bed, nagging me with your doubts about whether or not I still loved you. It began to feel like a burden, as if I were singularly responsible for your existence, your sole lifeline.

In the beginning, when Ruth noted that behaviour of yours, she became more cruel, wanting to punish you for clinging so much to me. But it did not help. With the passing of time you became like a stone around my neck and even Ruth came to consider you a nuisance. She often just kicked you away when you asked for her sympathy. And she grew nasty and irritated whenever you referred to your old friendship with her. I remember one occasion where she even physically had to fight you off me, as you clung to my neck and begged me to stay the night with you.

So those doubts you had about my feelings for you, had not at all become unfounded. I had changed a lot. I did not any more love you as I used to in the past. I was madly in love with Ruth now. And still am.

It seemed we had reached a deadlock.


***

So we decided to ask you for a divorce.

You gaped at me with unspoken terror, tears welling in your eyes. “What…?” you asked, as if you had not heard me properly.

“I want a divorce. I just don’t have that much love left for you anymore. I don’t want you. I want Ruth,” I said, “you have become a strain on my relation with her. I don’t want you to make me lose her.”

You sank on your knees before me, as you used to do in the old days, and grabbed me hard by my trousers. “You can’t do that to me…!” you cried, “I’m still your wife… I love you! With all my heart, Rudolph… I really love you… and you… you still love my body, don’t you…!?”

“Well…., only so much,” I answered. “You’re not appealing when you hang around my neck like a stone.”

“But…,” you sobbed, “but I’ll do anything, anything for you. I’ll suffer for you, I’ll be your slave, your fuck girl. I’ll let you do whatever you want…, make me a whore…, hurt me, torture me, whatever… whatever… whatever… but don’t leave me!”

… And so on, and so on…

“It’s of your own doing, Jenny,” I interrupted, trying to remain calm. “You wanted me to take Ruth as a lover. I did. And I’ve really grown to love her. She’s taken your place. That’s the reality, Jenny. You’ll have to face it. Things have changed.”

“But why…?” you sobbed.

“You’re irritating. You’re constantly nagging me. You need me, but I don’t need you. Not any more. And neither does Ruth. We want to be left alone. Just the two of us. You’ve become a bother.”

You began to cry hard now. “But I can’t lose you, Rudolph! I need you! Without you…” but your words got lost in a loud and horrendous sobbing.

Ruth came in.

“She annoying you again?” she asked, handing me a drink.

“I just told her I want a divorce, just as we agreed last night.”

“I can see she doesn’t buy it.”

“No, she doesn’t. At least that’s what it looks like,” I said, and sat down with Ruth on the couch, watching you cry at our feet.

“So, what shall we do?” I asked while you were still on your knees, clamping my legs, crying and blabbering incomprehensible syllables.

Ruth looked at me, pondering my question. Finally she proposed: “Maybe we should try to get rid of her in some other way.”

Picking up those words, you looked aghast at Ruth and me alternatingly. There was real horror in your eyes. But I smiled. The idea appealed to me.

Now you fell all over me like a rain torrent, grabbing me by my shirt and crying and calling my name in utter desperation. You would be ready for anything, you screamed, you’d go through hell to please me, to please Ruth if I wanted, if only I would not leave you. Ruth and I had to slap you hard across your face to silence you, so hard that you tumbled on the ground and remained there crying like a stupid  child.

When finally you shut up, you looked at us red eyed and with a tear stained face. Your whole attitude reminded me of a badly beaten but still loyal dog. I quietly asked: “So what do you suppose we should do with you, Jenny?”

“I don’t know…” you said, “but I can’t live without you. The prospect of losing you is too unbearable. I’d rather die.”

Ruth laughed. “You’d rather die?”

You just kept looking up at us without saying a thing, then slowly lowered your head. A slight blush appeared on your cheeks.

“You’d rather die?” Ruth repeated, with a voice that sounded like actually it was an interesting idea.

No answer. Just an anguished expression on your face.

“Well?” I asked, intrigued by your silence, “Would you rather face death than a divorce?”

There was an almost imperceptible nod of your head, tears now flowing freely down your face.

“Should I take that as a consent?” I questioned. “I mean you’d rather be killed than divorced?”

Tears kept rolling down your cheeks, but you answered without words.

It was silent in the room for a long time. But finally, Ruth, with a dark smile on her face, said: “That can be arranged, Jenny. And I’ll tell you…, it would give us a great thrill.”

“We could make it look like an accident,” I said, having no hesitation to agree with Ruth.

Thus it was decided…

***

But when the fateful day arrived and the two of us together took you from your room, you resisted strongly, and cried out that you had changed your mind. It had all been a fantasy, you yelled, and you shouted how much you still loved me, that I was still your husband, that your whole existence depended on me, that you would serve me sexually in any way, etc, etc, etc….

However, neither Ruth nor I were in a mood to listen any more to those whinings of yours. We just told you to undress and then firmly bound your hands behind your back. After that we also tied a rope around your ankles. It was too late to take any risk of you escaping, and snatch away our pleasures.  

I could see panic in your eyes. But at the same time I saw drops escape between your legs. Was it arousal or piss, released by your dread of what was waiting? Once bound you started to tremble savagely all over your body and your knees gave in, causing you to fall into my arms. I kept you upright though, and discovered how hot your shivering body was. I wondered if you were in sexual heat indeed, or were frightened like a caught animal. But whatever the case, we still had to suffer that dreary voice of yours, as you kept wailing that you did not want to die, that you had changed your mind, etc, etc….

It was obvious that you could not accept your faith, that you were terrified, knowing what we intended to do, whatever that might be. You struggled violently as we carried you between us toward the front door. It took great efforts to drag you all the way to my car. But in the end we did succeed in locking your so fiercely resisting body in the trunk of my 4-wheel drive.  

I got into the driver’s seat as Ruth climbed in next to me. We embraced each other and kissed long and intensely, listening with ever growing arousal to the banging sounds and cries as escaped from the trunk behind us.

Finally we untangled and I started the engine. We were on the road.

The place we had in mind for our purpose was a wide but secluded stretch of sandy beach, only reachable by car through difficult and rough terrain. But once arrived we found ourselves surrounded by just the sea in font of us, by a white sandscape below us, and by almost impassable rocky slopes behind us.

We got out of the car and, upon unlocking the trunk, carried you off to the shoreline. You had stopped fighting, and had us carry you like a child being carried by its parents. There were still dried tears on your face, but otherwise, you seemed to have given up hope, letting your head hang backwards, your hair blowing poetically in the wind. It was much easier than I had expected.

Not far from the water line we carefully lowered your writhing body on its belly in the sand. Kneeling next to you, we kept you down with our knees on your back. Ruth produced another piece of rope, and expertly tied your already bound feet to your hands behind your back. Thus you were firmly hogtied. With your body curved up like a boat hull, you could move neither forward nor backward.

“First, now, Jenny,” I said, “I’ll take off your wedding ring. You won’t need it where you’re going.”

“No…!” you cried out, suddenly heaving your head high up, your face flooded with fresh tears, “not that… not my ring,” and fierce revolt spat from your face. “Let me keep it…! Please let me keep it… if I must die, at least let me take your ring with me...!”

Ruth and I looked at each other. Then, standing up, Ruth put a foot in the back of your neck, pushing your face into the sand and calmly said: “Rudolph, take my ring from her.”  

You began to struggle ferociously in your ropes, but hogtied against the two of us, and with your mouth tasting sand, you were no match.

So I smoothly removed the ring from your finger.

As Ruth took her foot away, you lifted your head high again and started to howl in a shrieking voice. But Ruth several times slapped your face hard. It silenced you surprisingly easily. I handed the ring to Ruth. Addressing you, she pocketed it with a smile, and said: “When you are dead, and the proper mourning period for Rudolph is over, we’ll marry and I’ll carry your ring on my finger. So don’t worry. It won’t get lost. It’ll be my wedding present from Rudolph.” In helpless resignation you lay down your head on the sand and produced a loud, long drawn out, wail.

“Let’s see,” Ruth said to you, rolling you over on your side with her foot, “Let’s see how you take this final disgrace. And indeed, even while crying so heart-rendingly, your nipples appeared to stand out stiffly and you were moist between your legs. This time surely not from piss.

We both very much liked what we saw. “Want to feel fucked for the very last time?” Ruth asked you. And without waiting for an answer she again put her shoe on your head, pushing your face sideward into the sand. You did not stop screaming. With a smile, I slowly ground the toe of my shoe hard into the soft flesh of your femininity. It was a real humiliating way to fuck you, hogtied as you were. You responded by jerking in your ropes and renewing your shrieks, although they were muffled by the sand pushed into your mouth. But these were quickly followed by throaty sounds escaping you, betrayed a mix between agony and an undesired pleasure of humiliation. Soon it looked like you were erupting in a last and huge orgasm.

With you convulsing in the sand before us, Ruth and I quickly undressed. Then together we pulled your body, still ebbing from that final orgasm, into the water. You immediately regained your wits and began to fight your ropes in panic. For the first time it seemed you understood that you were really going to be drowned.

And thus again you started to scream violently for mercy and clemency.

But it was too late for you now. We were thrilled way too much.

It was low tide, so we had to drag you quite far into the sea. Highly excited we observed how your thrashing body reacted to its impending death, contracting once again as if you experienced a second even more terrifying orgasm.

We lowered your shaking and shivering body in shallow water, a little further into the sea, where a sandy elevation was high enough to allow most of your frame to remain above the water, and keep your head sufficiently high. And indeed that’s what you did. As a bonus, you suddenly stopped whining and begging for your life. Now you had to keep your mouth firmly shut, keeping out any water.

Thus it was only a matter of time before you would drown. We only needed to wait for high tide, which would cause the water to rise. Gently your mouth, your nose and then your lungs, would fill with the salty sea.

“Goodbye, Jenny,” I said “give us a good show when you die.” And Ruth bent down too to stroke your hair, saying, “We’ll go to the beach now and watch you drown slowly. It’s been nice knowing you. But it’s even nicer to see you die… Bye, bye.” And thus we both waded back to the beach.

But it was a miscalculation. You were lying quite high in the water and seemed to have much more strength than we had anticipated, easily succeeding to hold your head way above the water, keeping your mouth firmly shut. It would still be a long time before the tide would become high enough for you to drown.

So Ruth waded back towards you.

She took hold of your feet and with some effort lugged you further down into deeper water. There she grabbed your hair and, although you resisted strongly, pushed your face under water. Now you struggled wildly. Foam sprang up between the two of you. Ruth let go of your head for a moment. “Jenny, dear,” I heard her say, “it’s such a kick to end your life. Take a last breath, I’ll drown you now. We so much want to watch you die.” And she exclaimed: “Oh, how I love this!”

But you sputtered and gasped wildly, fighting violently. It became a great struggle between you and Ruth, albeit an unequal one, you shrieking again now, while at the same time trying to rid your mouth and lungs from the water entering you. But Ruth calmly pushed your head under water, holding your face down for a long time.

Your struggles diminished and then, quite suddenly, ended in a few spectacular jolts….

Thus your life ended and your body relaxed. When Ruth let go of it, you bobbed softly in the shallow water. You had been properly drowned, and were dead.

It was over.

Ruth waved at me with a big victorious smile. She bent down and took the ropes off your dead body, causing your arms and legs to slowly spread free in the water.

I had left your clothes on the beach, so it would look like there had been an unfortunate accident.

When Ruth waded back to me, leaving your lifeless body behind, sloshing in the water like a piece of driftwood, we hungrily fell in each other’s arms in the warm soft sand, kissing each other greedily.  And thus, with in my mind the vivid image of your drowning and exciting death throes, I impaled my lovely Ruth, entering her with such an erotic peak of passion as I had never before experienced.”


***
Epilogue

“Do you think I would have liked it better if I had somehow survived?” you ask.

“How?”

“Well…, for example, the ropes could have loosened in all that wetness, and I would have been able to struggle free, you and Ruth being busy with each other on that beach.”

“Only if you would have been play-acting that you drowned.”

You nod. “Still it’s a possibility, right?” you say.

I draw you near to me, on my half of the bed and, having placed a kiss on your mouth, replied:” “Yes, but it would have been a kind of anti-climax, don’t you think?”

You smile and leave a quiet silence between the two of us. But I can see you are considering something.

“It’s not only fantasy. There is a truthful reality in that story too, Rudolph, or am I mistaken?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I know you do like Ruth.”

“Sure my dear. So…?”

You respond only with another amused smile, and then, suddenly your eyes show that kinky sparkle I know so well. I look back at you lying on my cushion, and raise a questioning eyebrow.

You kiss me and softly whisper in my ear:

“Want me to invite her for dinner….?”