?He's usually not likethat, not at all. I wonder what got into him. I bet he's sobered up this morningand he's really ashamed of himself.? ?We've all made mistakes,? Ashley allowed generously. ?Let's just say thatZack may have had quite an evening had he been just a bit more patient.? Sherolled her eyes. Emily and Marissa both laughed. III Zack woke up groggy with a pounding headache. His throat burned. His handshurt. He couldn't remember what manner of dog piss he had drunk in the carbut the world still refused to come into focus. The light was dim except froa red flashing ?Exit? sign that flashed almost painfully. He tried to fit hisroiling memories into a cohesive whole. He was going to some sort of partywith this new girl, Ashley. They had stopped at a liquor store. Ashley gavehim a fifty and sent him in to buy a case of wine coolers and a case of beer.She popped the trunk and he stowed the two cases. He got back to the car andshe was drinking something from a flask. She gave him. I had met my wife a little later in life, and in that first flush of passion and intensity, she told me about her previous lovers. As we enjoyed concerts, movies, dinners around town, we bumped into men who she had slept with. I lost count after the first ten. Her experience, and appetite, had overwhelmed me. I made love with a fierceness new to me. I wanted to claim her as my own, to be the best, the first at whatever I could with her. I fucked her relentlessly, I sodomised her and I swamped her with pleasure. My mind ran wild at the imaginings of her. My cock was stiff whenever she was near. Of course, it was the thought of her with her other lovers that excited me. I wanted my wife to be sluttish, promiscuous, wanton, debauched. As she once was. But she would not have a bar of it. She had turned a corner in her life, and settled into monogamy, and we tapered off into a quiet routine of occasional, barely satisfying sex. Then I saw Catherine’s ad; found myself waiting in the bar to.
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