I could feel a stirring in my groin. The frankness of his conversation reawakened my imagination, and I recalled my reason for the visit. I could feel my prick growing hard and creeping up my thigh, pressed tightly against the crotch of my under shorts. I took another drink.

"Does she know you're here? Your wife, I mean."

"Well," I began. "Patti knows about the ads, but she's not living with me just now. She's visiting her sister in Smithtown. We've had some… marital problems." I felt strange confessing this to a total stranger.

"Sex problems?"

"Sort of." I could feel color flush in my cheeks.

"You should try to get her interested in swinging," Ken explained seriously. "It just might save your marriage. You would be surprised at the therapeutic effects of swapping-off every so often."

"I don't think…" I thought of Patti, but I couldn't imagine her screwing with some strange man. I tried to imagine her naked body under the swelling weight of Kenneth Hill's stomach. The scene was perversely exciting.

"You learn to appreciate your wife better," he continued. "You don't take her as much for granted. And you regain that lost spark of spontaneity in your marriage."

I knew I wouldn't even know how to ask Patti to join us. When things hadn't been working out for us, I remember how I threatened her with placing a sex ad. "Go ahead," she said. "Enjoy yourself. Just stay away from me."

"Well," someone said. The voice interrupted my reverie. It was a feminine voice.

I looked up and saw a woman entering the living room. She was younger than Kenneth Hill by at least ten years. She had long dark hair and a tall, somewhat thin body. Her shape was excellent, and she had a pair of firm, full breasts. She was wearing a printed blouse and a short blue mini skirt.

"Ah," said Hill, standing up. "We've been wondering where you were."