Almost from the moment we got married about two years ago, I was intrigued by the idea of sharing my wife with another man. Beth and I are in our mid-twenties, and we’ve each had our share of sexual experiences, but I wasn’t content with the prospect of a staid sex life. Not that I had any complaints about my wife; she is a gorgeous brunette, with great legs and large brown eyes that would weaken any man.

Those eyes suggest youth and innocence, yet she is a real tigress in bed. I can attest to this from my own experience and from the stories she’s told about her previous lovers. It was her stories, in fact, that made me think about her dating other men after we exchanged our wedding vows. I just found the image of her making love to some handsome stud to be an incredible turn-on.

For the first few months after our honeymoon, Beth expressed no interest at all in taking on a lover. I would get no response when I suggested a liaison with some man from her past or hinted that I was open to her seeing someone on the side. She thought I was kidding. Even when my persistence told her I was quite serious, she seemed reluctant to admit that our marriage could be enhanced by the added excitement such an encounter would bring.

As time went on, however, she began to open herself to my suggestions. She finally admitted that she might be interested in sleeping with one old male friend, a black guy named Mark who I knew slightly. I learned that they had gone to bed together a couple of times when they were both in graduate school.

I was not surprised to learn she found him to be a terrific lover because he is a robust physical specimen, taller and bulkier than I am. The fact that he was black only added to the deep excitement I felt at her admission. She confessed that, with my encouragement, she had allowed herself to think about fucking him again; indeed, she said she had often fantasized about it recently when we were making love. I told her that I was thrilled.

Convinced finally that this was what we both wanted, she agreed to set things in motion. She began to phone Mark, using any excuse at all. Soon she started to flirt over the phone, with me listening to her end of the conversation. She would talk about one of the times they had slept together and tell him it was still one of her most exquisite sexual experiences. From her blushing face -- was it embarrassment or excitement?

I could tell he was recalling the same event in vivid detail. As soon as we were off the phone, she practically ravaged me, making love for hours. I knew full well that I was the stand-in for the man she most desired at that instant. We were ready for the next step.

To make it clear to Mark that I approved of the way things were headed, Beth and I agreed that I would make the final arrangements for their reunion. So I “accidentally” bumped into Mark downtown the next day, greeted him like a long-lost chum, and suggested lunch. As soon as we sat down over a couple of beers, I got straight to the point. I told him that Beth and I wanted a more unconventional marriage. “Though I’m lucky to have her, that’s not enough. I would like to see her expand her sexual horizons.”

Mark laughed. “So you know about our phone calls?”

“Sure,” I answered. “I’ve been right next to her during every one.” I went on to explain that Beth had some unresolved sexual curiosity about him, and that I thought it would be good for all of us if she explored these feelings thoroughly.

“Will you be participating?” Mark asked, wondering what my angle was.

“That’s up to the lady. She knows I’d like to watch, but she’s a bit shy. We’ll just have to let her set the pace.”

Mark said that was fine, and we agreed that he’d be up at our apartment for dinner and “whatever” the next night at seven. I rushed to a phone to tell Beth. She seemed momentarily unnerved. “Do you really want this as much as I do?” she asked, her voice shaking. When I assured her that I wanted it even more, she giggled seductively and said Mark would get a dinner he would never forget.