"Harry," she crooned softly, "Be careful, we've got business to plan out remember." She looked up at him coyly as he continued the teasing ministrations.

Marsha gritted her teeth slightly as she felt the old feeling drifting slowly through the tips of her nerves. She was lucky to have Harry for a husband and she knew it well. He was one of the wealthiest and most successful car dealers in the country and took very good care of her in spite of the flamboyant crudeness and periodic streaks of cruelty in his sometimes overzealous sexual demands. Not that she minded the latter, she mused, she was almost as bad as he was and perhaps that was what held them together. He didn't mind at all what she did as long as she didn't hide it from him and was there when he needed her. But, by the same token, he did whatever he liked also in the way of outside sexual activity but would never hide it from her. In fact, it had made their marriage more exciting than anything else and had brought them closer together. Then, there was the swap club too.

Yes, both by common consent had had their own little affairs but had never let them get beyond the physical stage. It was kind of like having your cake and eating it too and had added so much interest to their lives together that she could never want it any other way. She liked the arrangement they had with either being able to do as they pleased because she had seen so many of her friends lapse into a bored and almost unbearable existence without any variety in their lives at all. It wasn't pleasant watching people you had known as young, gay individuals suddenly wilting away into sad mechanical-like suburban night dwellers whose every action fitted into a slot or pattern that varied not one iota from one year to the next. She was grateful to Harry for salvaging her from this fate and really, in the beginning anyway, almost forcing her to accept the fact that life could be lived in a different manner than that accepted without question by the majority of society.