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Happy as a marriage may be, there will come a time when both partners will feel the call of wanderlust. There will always be days when the grass looks greener on the other side.
Sam Morgan and Ken Tate are old friends. They have been through a lot since their first meeting back in college clays. They look forward to their reunion after a five-year parting.
Both Sam and Tate are married now. To women of unusual beauty and bottomless appetite. The attraction between the men and one another’s wives is instantaneous and intense. The question is: should they follow up on it?
Will pursuit of their baser instincts enhance their friendship? Or will it destroy a relationship of more than twenty years’ standing?
Can two beautiful women bring two old friends closer together? Or push them apart? Tate and Sam have a memorable time finding out.
Ken Tate pushed himself away from his typewriter and went to the front window. He had had enough of writing for one day. His latest spy thriller was going well. He was pleased. With any luck, he’d have it off to the publishers in another couple of weeks.
Right now, Tate had no heart left for spy plots and secret weapons and bodies in alleys. His thoughts were turning to fair damsels, and the building distress in his aching balls.
His wife Annie would be home soon. Tate had plans for her. Just the thought of her lush young body jerked his cock up to half-mast inside his pants.
Tate would be forty-five next birthday. He was in the midst of respectable middle-age. The big muscular writer congratulated himself on the zest for life that had kept him free of the chains that usually went with his age… a nagging, middle-aged wife, screaming kids; a mortgaged house; headaches and more headaches.
Fictional reading for entertainment purposes only.