’ He whispered softly. He knelt before her, his hands on her hips, fingers edging in to the elastic waist of the thong she was wearing. He wanted...to rip it from her body, but he didn’t want to frighten her. He pulled the thong over her hips, and slid them over her thighs, and down her long legs. He felt her hands on his shoulders as she stepped out of the skimpy piece of lace. He leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on her neatly trimmed mound, just enough downy hair, to be sexy. He could. 'What is it John? You can tell me anything', she said, her smile warm and encouraging.'Honey', he repeated, pausing and collecting his thoughts, unable as yet to even look his wife in the eye. How did he even begin to ask her. 'I want to know if you'd ever ... sleep with another man?'. John wanted to use to word 'fuck', as that was what he wanted. Somehow, rarely if ever used in the family home, it just didn't fit with his wife's aura. She was no angel but they never spoke to each other in such. More

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