I, __________, do hereby grant permission for my wife, Lucia Lopez-Costner, to have discreet sexual adventures with other men (or women) provided she agrees to the following terms and conditions:
1. Lucia agrees to have protected sex unless provided with current STD test results.
2. Lucia agrees to make clear that their business is strictly for pleasure, and nothing else can or will develop as a result.
3. Lucia will choose partners carefully—no coworkers or such that may cause future conflict. Absolute discretion is imperative.
4. Lucia agrees to share with husband, Wyler, about each adventure before or immediately after it has taken place, so that their healthy, honest relationship will be preserved.
5. Lucia’s signature on this document infers that her husband (Wyler) is also bound to the above terms and conditions should he choose to have sex outside of marriage.
I, __________, do hereby agree to the terms and conditions listed above. Date: ________
After reading the terms, Lucia returned the permission slip to the nightstand next to the bed. Our daughter, Rita, was at preschool and my beautiful Mexican wife and I had taken a rare morning off from work to partake in a good old-fashioned uninterrupted lovemaking session. We lay side-by-side, kissing and slowly undressing each other.
I loved the way Lucia’s short, dark hair framed her face—those lovely almond-shaped eyes and her full lips. Her body was short, compact, thick around the thighs, and swollen tummy from child birth. Still, she had an undeniable aura of sensuality that didn’t go unnoticed by other men.
As Lucia pulled away from a long kiss she asked, “Should I sign?”
“It’s entirely up to you,” I mumbled, trapping a nipple between my front teeth and flicking my tongue.
Lucia lifted a leg to rub a smooth calf against my lower back. Licking my ear she whispered, “Hmm.”
“Mmm, sounds interesting,” she scooted closer so that my cock-head butted against her soft bush.
“Can I watch?” I placed myself between her pussy lips and slipped in a fraction. She trapped me there and licked two fingers to find her tiny clitoris.
“I’d be nervous,” she said.
Down and in I pushed until we were flush.
“Goddamn, you feel good,” I moaned.
“You like it?” she teased.
“Men would give anything to be where I am now,” I assured her.
“If I did, it would just be for pleasure,” she moaned, “we’ll always be together.” Her hips were undulating.
“Mmm—just the thought of you fucking someone else—” I concentrated to keep from detonating.
“Do you want me to sign, baby?” Lucia’s hips were unrelenting.
“Have somebody in mind?” I gasped.
“Not yet,” she breathed into my ear.
“Just an adventure—nothing else—like it says in the contract.” Lucia’s breathing grew labored and she groaned. I was set on the trigger and regained control only after allowing a small, trickling orgasm—a neat little trick I’d learned through experience.
“If you fuck another man, I want you to confess while we’re making love,” I said.
“You won’t get nutty?” she asked.
We had played sex games before but I sensed her desire to see this one through. Her pussy quivered and I could tell she was nearing her climax.
I moved into a lotus and slipped two pillows under her ass. Pushing deep, I tapped at the doorway to her womb.
“Fuck, he’s going to love this,” I said.
Lucia took a deep lung-full of air and cried out. I felt the trembling contractions of her pussy and followed closely with my copious spurt.
A few minutes after, Lucia squeezed me out and padded to the bathroom. After cleaning herself, she returned with a mischievous smile, slipping into bed to reread the permission slip. If we both signed Lucia would become a fragrant flower for other bumblebees—once they’d sipped, they would wish to return again and again.
She lowered the contract, “I think I’d tell you afterward.” She lifted it again, “By signing this, I give you permission?”
“Do you have anyone picked out?” She lifted an eyebrow.
Lucia refocused on the permission slip. She reached for a pen and tapped it against her teeth. Pursing her lips, she waited, expecting me to put an end to the game. Yet the outcome was in her hands. Lucia pointed the pen at me.
“Will you sign if I do?” She asked.
“Wow, Costner.” Lucia took a deep breath. The pen wagged back and forth in her fingers, and then she decided.
Ty Spencer Vossler (MFA) currently lives in Oaxaca, Mexico with his BMW (beautiful Mexican wife) and their daughter. Vossler has published novels, many short stories, poetry and essays. He attributes his originality to the fact that he shot his television over two decades ago.