The Limo Driver and His Wife, Part 5

Chapter Ten: The Imposter 

When I step out of the limo, the flashes are blinding. The photographers seem to come out of nowhere. I pull the hat over my eyes to shield them, but it’s barely enough.

“Chase, how has your trip to New York been?”

“Chase, rumor has it that you’re single now. What happened between you and—”

“When’s your next album coming out?”

“What do you think your chances are at another Grammy?!”

I lift my hat away, and they all realize that I’m not Chase Morris at all. In fact, as they all take in the situation, they see that I’m dressed in a black suit, have sandy blond hair, and am not as tall as the world famous country music star.

“I’m sorry,” I say in an outrageously exaggerated Texan drawl. “I think ya’ll got me confused with another fella?”

The photographers lose interest almost immediately, grumbling as they put their cameras away. One does peer at my driver—who is of course the real Chase Morris. But thanks to his clean shave and the chauffeur cap, he looks completely unassuming.

“Flattered, boys,” I say. “But I’m pleased as punch to answer your questions.” Maggie emerges behind me. “I’m not single, though. Meet my wife.”

They are mostly already looking towards the entrance ramp for another limo to arrive. I do worry that someone here might recognize Maggie through her newspaper connection, but she fixes that by plucking the cowboy hat from my head and setting it on hers. “Come on, hubby. They seem to be after a bigger steer to wrangle.”

I nearly start laughing at her even more fake Texan accent. The limo pulls away and we enter the hotel without incident. Despite that, my heart races. “Did that really just happen?” I whisper as the air conditioning of the hotel lobby hits us.

Maggie, completely out of place in this upscale hotel in her all-denim outfit, finally seems to start feeling self-conscious. “Just get me upstairs please,” she whispers.

It’s late. The lobby is mostly empty. The bar is closed. Still, we hustle across the floor, towards the gold elevator banks. I pull out the keycard the Chase had given me, and up we go. Maggie pulls me to her as we ascend. I can smell Chase’s cologne on her as she kisses me. I swear I can taste him on her mouth.

“You’re a sexy man in that hat, you know,” she says, although she keeps the hat to herself. “Maybe we should get one for you.”

I chuckle. “Say it again with that accent.”

The elevator doors ring open. “Maybe we can wrangle up a rootin’ tootin’—”

I cut her off. “No. Too much.”

Maggie laughs, squeezing my arm and pulling me out. We hustle down the hall of doors to Chase Morris’s suite. Maggie whistles as she steps inside. “Wow… not so bad for a limo driver.”

It is the largest hotel room that I’ve ever seen, and judging from how much a standard room costs in this place, must be worth a small fortune. The main room is as large as a luxury apartment, and while there’s not an actual kitchen, it has a dining area, a table large enough to seat ten people comfortably, a sectioned off lounge of plush sofas that surround a huge television, and a small bar area. There’s a bottle of champagne waiting on ice, along with two empty flutes.

The curtains are pulled open, affording a view of southern Manhattan, where the tall buildings rise in their glittering majesty. I’ve lived in New York almost all of my life, and have never seen a view of my city like that.

Maggie goes to the champagne, picking up a folded card that leans against it. “Enjoy your night,” she reads. “No scandals please. V.” Maggie sets it down and looks at me. “They’re fucking, right?”

“They have to be.” I lick my lips as my nerves surge. “She knows who you are.”

Maggie’s hand freezes on the card and she half-turns to me. “What does she know, exactly?”

“That we’re married.” I cross the room to her. “She knows what you do for a living. She’s done her research.” I see how scared she looks. It’s exactly how I felt just a few hours earlier. “But I don’t think she’ll do anything. She’s just protecting her interests.”

“Fuck,” Maggie mutters. “I should go. We should go. This suddenly got way heavier than it ever should have been.”

It’s almost funny, considering that she’s in another man’s suite, waiting for him to arrive so he can fuck her.

“He doesn’t know. As far as I’m aware, she hasn’t told Chase, and I don’t think she will.” I gather Maggie into my arms, running my hands along the bare skin of her midriff. “We don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

She looks up at me, the hat tipped back, and meets my eyes. “I mean, sane people get out of this scenario, right? I’d rather not get between a big-headed celebrity and his possessive personal assistant slash possible lover.”

“I’m sensing a ‘but’ here.”

“I guess none of this is what sane people do,” she whispered. Her eyes never waver from mine.

“You’re so amazing, Mags,” I say.

“Says my husband, who’s letting me do this.”

I brush a strand of her hair back. “He’s on the list. Rules are rules.”

“You know that’s definitely not true, right?” she asks.

“I do.” I kiss her softly. “But it’s fun to pretend that we have to do this. Also, you did make a deal for those tickets…”

“Yeah, totally prostituted myself for front row seats.”

“My beautiful working girl wife.”

Maggie raises her brow. “New fantasy?”

“Hadn’t thought about it much. There may be something there…”

The lock beeps. I step away from her just as Chase slips into the room. “Whew, boy,” he says. “That was some good thinkin’, Brenden. Seemed like they fell for it.” He sees us over by the drinks, and for a second, I worry that he’s going to accuse us of getting close. But he just grins and says, “Open that bottle. You deserve a celebratory round. And Maggie, see if there’s a third glass. You don’t mind if Brenden stays a bit longer, do you?”

Maggie surprises me, looking from Chase to me, then back to Chase. Her smile is full of suggestion. “Oh, I don’t mind if he stays. It was pretty hot, having him watch us.”

Chase considers this as Maggie adds a third champagne flute to the bartop. “Unconventional, but he does have an NDA… Victoria’s gonna hate it, though.” He pulls off the chauffeur hat and tosses it onto the sofa. “But if I’m bein’ honest, that’s actually more of a pro than a con.”

I open the bottle and fill the three glasses. “To New York,” Chase says, raising his glass. Maggie says, “To Chase Morris.”

I clink my glass against theirs, suddenly uncertain of where this is going, and who’s going to take the lead.

“Now,” Chase says, putting an arm around Maggie. He glances towards the double doors that lead into a spacious bedroom. “Shall we?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer. He starts to lead her towards that room, saying, “Follow along, Brenden. Let’s give the lady an audience.”

I only have a moment to wonder if this is really happening, but I don’t rush in after. I refill my champagne glass, throw it back, and take a big breath. I’m so hard.

Maggie’s laugh floats over to me from the bedroom like a tickle along my spine. I consider another glass, but know that later I’ll need to drive. It’s what I do. I drive. Wiping my mouth, I fill their glasses and carry them into the bedroom.

Maggie’s already on the bed, lying on her back as Chase eases her tight shorts off. He leaves her thong on, though, for now. He slides his hands along her slender body, right up to the button of her denim top. Maggie glances at me as I enter, just as Chase yanks open the top. The button goes flying. I hear denim rip. Maggie gasps.

Beneath, Maggie isn’t wearing a bra, and her dark nipples are hard and high on her chest. Chase grins, sitting back and tugging his shirt off over his head, blocking my view of my wife with his muscular back.

“Incredible,” I hear her murmur as she takes in his fit frame. I like to think that I’m in shape, but I can’t compete with a man with a personal gym, a personal trainer, a personal dietitian, and the leisure time to take advantage of all of those things.

I can’t see Maggie, but I can see her hands as they trace Chase’s body. She’s already been with him once, but it was in the dark cab of the Escalade. Now, in the soft lights of the hotel room, she can see him in all his glory. 

Her reaction stirs my own. My dick swells. I set the glasses of champagne beside them, circling them just in time to see Maggie grab Chase by the back of the neck and drag him down to her for a kiss. He yields, and she seems to delight in it.

“Thank you,” she says to me between kisses. I’m not sure if the gratitude is for the champagne or this experience, but I have a hunch.

“You’re quite welcome, ma’am,” I say. Then I go to a fancy chair that sits along the side of the room and settle into it—my own form of front row seats.

Despite the setup—the shameless voyeurism, being the third wheel, the fact that Maggie’s my own wife—none of this feels awkward. It’s like watching my own fantasy made manifest before me. Porn come to life.

Maggie’s hands work down between Chase’s legs as they kiss, getting more desperate as she struggles to open his jeans. He takes over at some point, sitting up and pushing his pants off. His boxers go with it, and his dick springs forth, semi-erect and already thick.

“Now,” he says,” let’s check in on our side deal.”

He goes down between her legs, takes hold of her thong, and pulls it free. I see her bald pussy just before he drops down to devour her.

“Ah!” Maggie cries, caressing Chase’s head. “Yes!”

“You taste good,” Chase grunts.

“And you feel…” The rest of her thought is lost in a moan.

I can’t stop myself from playing with my dick through my pants. My heart trembles. My stomach flutters.

“Glad I shaved?” Chase asked between licks. “I sure am happy about the exchange.”

“Oh, God…”

Maggie is close, just like that. Chase gets her off without even using his fingers. But he doesn’t immediately crawl over her and ram home. He stays between her legs, letting her recover just enough that she doesn’t push him away when he goes back to eating her. This time, he uses his fingers. This time, her orgasm builds to something so much louder.

“Oh, my… you’re… oh!” Maggie twists and gasps on Chase’s mouth. His technique is not mine. His touch is different. There is no doubt that she’s fucking her stud celebrity fantasy man.

“This is better than playing a guitar, baby,” Chase says as he works two fingers deep in her. Maggie plays with her tits, rubbing her nipples as she arches her back. She’s close again, but Chase knows how to prolong this moment.

“Please,” she begs. “Please let me come.”

Chase chuckles. “Since you asked so nicely.”

He redoubles his attack. I’m rubbing myself so fast that I can feel a cramp forming in my hand. I consider pulling my cock out completely, but before I can, Maggie crests.

“Oh, yes!” She’s screaming as she comes, clamping her thighs around Chase’s Sexiest Man Alive face. “Oh my—-AH!”

I almost come with her. My balls tighten. My chest catches. I want to. She’s glorious. She’s so sexy. But I hold out. If I spend myself now, I don’t know how I’ll feel after, and there’s still so much more to come.

Chase stands and goes to his suitcase, completely unashamed by his nudity—and why shouldn’t he? He’s a true specimen. I can see Maggie staring at him as he retrieves a few condoms. She senses me watching her, and turns to me, her eyes saying, ‘Can you fucking believe this is happening?’

“I should write a song about you, Maggie,” he says as he rips open the foil and rolls the protection on. “My New York girl.”

“Oh, please,” she blushes.

“I’ll keep the identity secret, of course, but it could be fun.” He climbs back onto the bed. “Country boy, city girl.”

Maggie snorts. “I’d hardly call you a country boy.”

“Mmm, you’re right.” He kisses her aggressively. “Too trite, anyway. Better if the country boy teaches the city girl a few…” He lines his dick up against her pussy. “...new…” He eases into her, staring her in the eyes. “...tricks.” With that, he pushes forward, sinking into her welcoming sex.

“Fuck!” she groans. “Yes. Show me… show me those tricks!”

I can’t just watch and touch myself through my pants. I need something more. I overcome any inhibitions and open my pants, pulling out my own cock. Chase can judge all he wants, but I need to jerk off at the very least as he fucks my wife.

Maggie is too consumed with the sensation of Chase rutting over her to see me. At first, anyway. He makes her come hard, hissing and tightening beneath him, before she glances my way. I have to slowly pump myself, worried that I’ll come too quickly—but I can’t not touch myself.

She bites her lip when she sees what I’m doing. “I love that he’s watching,” she says.

“I can tell,” Chase says. “Too bad he can’t join in. He’s spoken for.”

It’s funny that he remembers that I’m married, given the fact that I’m jerking off as I watch him fuck a woman that I presumably don’t know.

“I like a man who stays true to his marital vows,” she says, grinning at my cock in my hand. I shake my head at her with a grin. I’ll get back at you, I say with my eyes. She just winks and adds, “I think fidelity is so sexy.”

Oh, the irony. 

Chase pulls out of her and flips her onto her hands and knees. “I’m all for anything that makes you feel sexy,” he says as he drives right back into her. This time, though, aware of me, she keeps looking over, keeps smiling at me. 

“You know what would be really… hot…?” she asks between moans. She looks at me. “I want to see you come. Can you… can you do that for me?”

“Do it for her, man!” Chase says. I can hear that he’s close, his breathing shallow.

I start to beat off faster, watching as their bodies sway and undulate. She takes a deep breath, clinging to the sheets beneath her as Chase fucks her harder.

“Uh, uh, uhh!” she gasps.

I beat off. I stroke faster. Sweat builds between my shirt and my skin. My forehead prickles.

“I’m close,” I gasp.

“Me too,” Maggie gasps. She reaches between her legs, touching herself, fingering her clit as she rides the edge.

“Do it, you two!” Chase demands.

Maggie goes first, resting her cheek against the bed as she shuts her eyes and cries out. I follow a moment later, stroking, pumping, feeling my balls tighten. I can’t stop it. I can’t stop the deluge.

Chase pulls out of Maggie and tears the condom off. With his dick in hand, he pumps twice before he starts coming all over Maggie’s naked back. I pop, too, spraying my shirt with pent up desire.

Maggie plays with herself as she rides out her orgasm, curling her fingers inside of her as Chase sprays her back. 

“That was good,” Chase says as he drinks back into his haunches. “I love a good sport fuck after a show.”

Maggie twists around, rolling onto her back and smearing Chase’s come all over the duvet. I think about the housecleaning here, and wonder how often this happens.

Chsse flops down beside her, running his fingers through her damp hair.

“Thank you for the ticket,” she says. 

“And thank you for being there in the front row. As a performer, I do the same sets in different cities all the time. You helped make New York special.”

Maggie shifts closer to him, and their intimacy is thrilling. I do my best to clean up my come, but there’s no getting around it—I’ve made a mess. At least I have a jacket that I can pull shut to hide my splooge. 

They see me move, the lovers turning to me. “I’m going to leave you two, if that’s okay,” I say. It’s a question for Maggie, although it’s directed at Chase.

“Right on,” Chase says. “Maybe pick up in the morning?”

I look at Maggie, who’s studying me intensely. “I’m good with it if you are,” I say.

I love you, she mouths to me with a wide smile. 

Chase looks at me funny. “Of course I am,” he says. “Didn’t I just suggest it?” He chuckles.

“It was nice to meet you, miss,” I say to Maggie. “Thanks for letting me watch. I don’t think I’ll ever forget this night.”

“Thanks for watching,” she says.

It’s weird to leave her without kissing her goodbye. That’s a habit so ingrained that I almost do it anyway. Instead, I zip up and walk out of the room, my neck burning and my dick already getting hard. 

What a night. 

Chapter Eleven: Home

Back home, all alone, I consider going into the bedroom and jerking off. I resist. Helps that I've already done it once. In the bedroom, Maggie’s things are still spread out—a few discarded dresses on the bed, her makeup kit open in the bathroom. It’s like she just stepped away. Only she wasn’t going to be back. Not tonight.

I manage to sleep, but only in fits and starts. My dreams are wild and vivid, but when I stir, they fade fast.

There was a time, early on in our relationship, when Maggie and I were not exclusive. I was just realizing that maybe I was falling in love with her, but too stubborn to acknowledge it. When she mentioned dates with other guys, I trained myself not to be jealous. I didn’t mind a little competition, and if anything, it made our sex life that much more explosive. In the end, I won her.

Maybe that’s why I’m not crippled by jealousy now. I don’t know. I can’t say. Probably has something to do with it.

Every time I stir, I check my phone for texts or messages. I get nothing. Not at five. Not at six. Not at seven. I finally get up after that and take a cold shower. 

I contemplate texting her, but don’t. Too risky. I keep looking towards the door each time a car passes down the street, half-expecting her to walk in, exhausted and well-fucked. She doesn’t.

When the text does finally arrive, it’s not from Maggie, but from Veronica. Need you to come and bring Mr. Mitchell’s friend home. It’s nearly ten when the message comes in, and while I imagine that they could have spent most of that time sleeping, I highly doubt it.

I tell her that I’m on the way, I get into the Escalade I still have from last night. 

*

I’m nervous as I drive into the city. Like, first date nervous. Like, junior prom nervous. So much happened last night. So much more must have happened since I last saw my wife. Did it change us? Was this a giant mistake?

Maggie stands at the entrance to the hotel, mixed in with the others waiting for Ubers or Lyfts or taxis. I almost don’t recognize her, and almost circle away. 

I don’t know anything about designer clothing, but what Maggie is wearing is definitely designer. 

The black and silver dress is short—much shorter than anything Maggie would normally wear. It’s asymmetrical all over, the short hemline swishing as she saunters up to the car. She looks like a model, not a woman making her walk of shame.

I get out of the car and open the back door, as if she’s a client. She rolls her eyes at me. “I think I’d prefer riding up in the front, with you, and I’m not climbing over the seats in this dress.”

I shut the door, but before I can move to open the passenger side one, she grabs me by the shirt, pulls me close, and kisses me hard.

She tastes like toothpaste and lipstick, yet smells of cologne. My chest squeezes the air from me. “Take me home,” she says.

I float around the front of the limo in a daze, carried on the breeze. She had fucked another man. She is coming from his bed. She is coming back to me.

“So, um, that’s a nice dress…” I’m not sure how to start this conversation.

“It’s Veronica’s.” Glancing at her, sitting beside me, her legs crossed, it’s so short. She fingers the high hem. I don’t miss the ring of familiarity when she refers to Veronica Larrson. “My shirt is… unsalvageable.”

I remember how Chase tore it off. “And the Daisy Dukes?”

She lifts a small bag. “Everything else’s here. It’s not much, though.”

“So Veronica keeps a dress like that in Chase’s suite, huh?”

“No, not exactly. When we realized that my shirt was ruined, he called her and she brought it by. But it was… it was kind of awkward.”

“Yeah?”

“She walked in on us, um, together,” Maggie says. I glance over at her, and she’s bright red. 

“Sounds like a fun scenario,” I say suggestively. Maggie’s laugh carries some nerves in it. “Wait, did something happen?”

“Uh, no. But I guess it could have. The way she looked at me…” I can hear Maggie’s breathy sigh. “There’s definitely something going on between those two. They seemed to have whole conversations with a few words and a glance. I think they were feeling me out.”

“You should have gone for it!” I say.

Maggie laughs at my enthusiasm. “I was, um, tempted?”

“No!”

“These last few days have felt like reliving part of my youth—a part of my life I thought I’d closed the book on. But Chase’s lifestyle kind of defies all that.”

“Okay, right, but let’s get back to the whole ‘tempted’ thing.”

“So single-minded, dear.” She leans over to me and caresses my neck. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been with another woman.”

“I had no idea…” I’m so hard.

“College was fun,” she giggles. “But you know why I didn’t?”

“Tell me.”

“Because if I’m going to have my first threesome since getting married, it’s going to have to be with you.”

***

Back at our place, I once again admire Maggie in the dress as I follow her into the bedroom. Despite the designer cut, she still wears her cowboy boots from last night, and the incongruous look is oddly sexy. “I really like that dress,” I say.

She tugs at the short hemline. “Feels like lingerie.”

“Doesn’t look like it, though,” I reassure. It doesn’t. “You pull it off.”

“Not as well as Veronica Larrson, I’m sure. Plus, this thing probably costs more than a month’s paycheck at the Times.”

I move up behind her, enfolding her in my arms. She feels solid and warm and real. This isn’t a dream. Everything that came before happened. I can smell it in the hint of another man’s cologne, and beneath that, another man’s musk.

I whisper against her ear, “So you’re saying that I shouldn’t rip it off of you?”

She laughs throatily. “Not unless you want to piss off a client.”

She kisses me softly on the lips. Stepping back, she undoes some buttons in Veronica’s designer dress, pulling it open. Beneath, she’s completely naked.

I can smell more than just Chase. I can smell soap and unfamiliar shampoo. “You showered,” I say, even as I unleash my cock from my trousers.

“I did.” She helps pull my shirt off. “I wanted to be clean for you.” She stares up at me, mischievously.

“He fucked you again, after the shower?”

“Actually, no. Not quite, although there may have been some fooling around…” She pushes me off. I refuse to go when she adds, “Just let me get this dress off. It really is probably over a thousand bucks. Then, you can do whatever you want with me, big boy.”

I sit up as she pulls the dress off her arms and lays it gently on the nightstand. As soon as she does, though, I’m back on her, kissing and spooning her. “So when did you go to bed?” I whisper as I nip at her ear.

“I have no idea.” She turns under me, grabbing my dick. “There wasn’t much sleeping that went on.”

“Tell me what happened,” I say as I push into her well-used pussy. “After I left, what happened?”

“We actually took our first shower after. He said he was still hot and sticky from the show, and I had… well, you know. I was also sticky.”

“I remember.”

“He did me up against the shower tile.”

Her words spur me on like a jockey’s whip. I fuck her like I have something to prove. I guess I do, in a way—I’m her husband, and I can fuck her better than any playboy rockstar celebrity because I know exactly what she likes.

I fuck her the way I wanted to as I watched her last night, and all the hours spent alone in the bed. As sore as she must be, she welcomes my cock and comes hard right along with me. “Yes,” she cries. “I want to feel you come, baby! I want to feel it all hot inside of me!”

“You want it?” I grunt.

“Ngh! Yes! Give it to me. Make me yours. Make me… yours!”

I come as she comes. I rock as she rolls. I feel nothing but Maggie and her familiar yet new embrace, and I give everything to that sensation.

I collapse beside her, exhausted but already eager for more. I’d spent all night imagining. Now I wanted details. “So what happened after he fucked you in the shower?”

“We went back out into the bedroom, totally naked, and lounged there on the sheets for a bit. Then, he went down on me again.” She smiles at the memory. “Guess he really liked that I shaved for him.”

“I like it, too.”

Maggie runs her hand along her bare mound. “Turns out Chase’s mouth isn’t good for just singing.”

I laugh at her. Despite meeting her fantasy man, she still seems to idolize him, and I think it’s cute. Maggie turns to me, though, worried that maybe she’s gone too far. “So you’re really not jealous?”

“Should I be?” I ask.

“I don’t know. Yes?” she says. “I think I would be.”

“You have feelings for him?”

“Of course not.”

“And do you think he’s falling for you?”

She shakes her head. “You heard him. I’m just his New York girl.”

“Then I’m not jealous.”

She kisses me. “You are crazy, though,” she adds. She squeezes my cock, confirming that it is, indeed, hard. “It doesn’t make you jealous that, after he ate me out, he fucked me for—I swear to God—a solid hour? I think I may be developing feelings for his personal trainer.”

“Wow, impressive.”

“After coming twice, he could last, too, although I suspect he had some Little Blue Pill help. Not that I’m complaining. After that, we did sleep for a bit. I woke before him.” She smiles. “Gave him a good morning BJ.”

“Okay, now I am jealous.”

“We had breakfast in bed. Fucked some more. Had our shower. Fucked in the shower.”

“You’re insatiable.” 

She opens her mouth to say something, then hesitates. 

“What?” I prompt gently. It’s rare that Maggie holds back anything from me, and that makes me anxious, too.

“It’s silly, just…”

“You are falling in love him—”

“No, you idiot.” She takes a deep breath. “This is going to sound awful, but last night was… like, I still can’t believe it happened. For all kinds of reasons.” She kisses me. “First time I’ve been with another man in decades. First time I’ve been with a celebrity. First time in a limo. But you know what I keep coming back to? The thing that really gets me thinking that this is all just one kinky dream?”

I shake my head.

“Chase Morris could have picked anyone in Bar 9. There were a lot of hot, young things in there, looking for some fun. Of all of them, he bought me a drink.” She suddenly squints at me. “You didn’t set that up, did you?”

“Are you accusing me of conspiring with my famous client to hit on my wife? Why the hell would it even occur to me to do something like that?”

“I don’t know? I didn’t expect you to get hard as I relate my torrid affair to you, either.”

I kiss the bridge of her nose. “That surprised me, too. And I swear, Chase wanted a local dive bar feel, so I took him to the one I knew. I thought it would be fun to get him close to you. I never thought he’d end up inviting you back to his room.” I gather her close to me. Her tits are warm on my chest, her nipples hard. “But he did say that you’re his type, so maybe I should have been more cautious.”

Maggie pushes me onto my back and climbs into my lap. I’m hard again. She’s ready. I stare up at her, late morning sunshine all around us. 

“I feel like I’m going to owe you for the rest of my life.”

“Well, you did mention a threesome,” I say. “And I do have my own celebrity list…”

“Now this is an exciting idea,” Maggie says.

My phone buzzes. Maggie groans as I reach for it, stilling her hips over me. It’s Veronica.

[Veronica]: Mr. Morris and I need a ride to the airport. Be here in an hour. And bring my dress.

“Shit, that’s very little time. Need to get back on the road,” I say, reluctant to leave Maggie’s side. I show her the phone and muse, “I wonder if Chase knows Scarlett Johansson.”

I actually feel Maggie’s pussy tighten around me. It’s thrilling, realizing that there’s this whole other side of my wife that we can explore now.

“Not until I get off,” Maggie says. “Now tell me, who else is on that list of yours…”

End

This one was super fun to write. While I had written it a while back, I made some tweaks before publishing it here. I like these characters, and who knows, maybe I'll revisit their next adventure? Who would be on your celebrity list?