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It was hard to erase the memory of my wife getting fucked by another man. In fact, I wasn’t sure I wanted to forget. My cock started to swell each time the X-rated images appeared in my mind.

Three days had elapsed since Anne and I had returned home from our weekend Vegas rendezvous with our friends, Darrell and Linda. I should probably refer to them as our lovers, actually. “Friends” seems inadequate after you’ve enjoyed a sizzling foursome that included swapping partners.

Agreeing to swap with Darrell was the hardest thing I’d ever done. Anne and I had been married for almost 18 years, since I was in law school. She was still a hot piece of ass, to put it rather crudely. I constantly wanted her, and wanted her to myself. In my clouded logic, it seemed irrelevant that Anne and I had threesomes with Linda before that fateful night. Darrell truly was a nice guy, but Anne’s gorgeous body belonged to me. Or so I thought.

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