.“Hello stranger, fancy seeing you!” The mild Germanic inflection was instantly recognisable as that of my old flame.“Carlotta? Is it really you...?” I stammered.“It most certainly is, darlink. And all the better for seeing you. Come and sit beside me.”I needed no second invitation and moved promptly into the low passenger bucket seat. I instantly picked up the distinctive aroma of the expensive Elie Saab perfume which Carlotta always wore. The previous evening, I had visited the National Film. The stories were hit and miss. A few were romantic, others were on swinging, okay that's not my thing, and then I started to see a trend that disturbed me.Cheating.Cheating wives. Cuckolded husbands. Humiliation.The more I read, the more upset I became. It was like watching an automobile accident, I just couldn't turn away.I became obsessed and read everything, from a wife that has second thoughts and stops before going too far, to a husband watching his partner getting fucked by a group of. Fortunately, I have to leave Monday for a few days for my work. Maybe that will give me the time to evaluate exactly how I feel and what my options are."Jack just shook his head in amazement. This was quite an impressive woman. Quiet, contained and very rational. Perhaps he had pursued the wrong woman in college. He did know that he had to come to terms with how he felt about his wife. Did he still love her or did he hate her - or was it both?Sara was contemplative as she drove home. She knew. Casually he told her without making a sound of how he was planning on touching her when she reached for the highest things or how he would rub against her when they were in line waiting to be served.His hands continued to weave a spell explaining to her that when they went to catch the afternoon matinee she would be so wet, he'd easily slide his fingers into her slippery cunt. His silent words evoked images of erotic fantasies into Joyce's mind and she shifted on her seat, the slickness of her.