[1971] It was following one of those “Save your marriage” programmes on television that we made our separate lists - not that our ten-year marriage needed saving. Far from it. But the lists were a bit of fun - your ten sexual fantasies in order of preference. Emma Jane cheated of course, insisting that I had already fulfilled all her fantasies. Flattery, was it, or lack of imagination? Either way, I thought it was bending the rules, although I too found it difficult to think of anything after the first six. Emma read my list with the occasional raised eyebrow.It was a week later that we ate out at our favourite restaurant, making eyes at each other across the table. While we were waiting for dessert, Emma leaned forward and whispered, “Drop your fork.” “Sorry?” I responded. “I thought you said ‘Drop your fork.’” “I did,” she whispered impatiently - then reached over and deftly flicked my fork off the table onto the floor. When I bent down to pick it up, I watched as Emma deliberately spread her legs. She had no panties on, and her neatly-trimmed bush was gloriously on display!
