‘I fractured my foot, sir.’ He muttered something. ‘What’d they do?’ ‘Put it in a cast. How’d you get this number, sir?’ ‘Are you on...Quarters?’ ‘No, sir. Don’t call me again.’ ‘Remember the arrangement we made?’ ‘Arrangement, sir?’ ‘For the weekend.’ He sounded a little bit nervous about saying it out loud. I gave the wall a paint-blistering glare and sat up. ‘Fuck you, sir.’ ‘You belong to me, private.’ His voice was pitched low, husky and fervent. I met that pronouncement with dead silence.. It was hard to imagine that those two kids who had car sex had ever existed. Julie and I threw around suggestions for a while, but none of them really got me going. None of them did it for me. Except for one idea, which hadn’t been suggested yet. Eight years into our marriage Julie and I were facing similar issues. Our sex life was having a bad patch. Not as bad as this bad patch, but we were still bored. At the time, I was playing around with the idea of swinging and perhaps inviting other. More

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