"Randall seems like a stand-up guy," Dennis said.

 

"Don't I wish he would stand up a little more for me!" With a teasing chuckle, she spritzed Dennis with perfume. "What about you, Dennis? When we were together, you'd get hard the moment you looked at me."

 

Just that word on my wife's lips brought a tingle to my pants region. Hard. I bet every man she walked by got hard for her, back then. I bet most still do.

 

Clearing his throat, Dennis said, "Well, yes, but that's all in the past."

 

"It doesn't have to be," Sandra said, in a hoarse whisper.

 

"What do you... what do you..." Dennis scrambled up the bed, away from my wife. "What do you mean, Sandra?"

 

She sat close to him and sent an arm around his shoulder. "Don't you remember the fun we had together?"

 

He scrambled to get away. "I do. I do. But..."

 

"But nothing." Straddling the little man, Sandra said, "There are certain things my husband will not do, Dennis. But you will. Won't you?"

 

"Maybe you could talk to him." He scrambled beneath her like a drowning rat. "Maybe a few therapy sessions. I could get you a name in the city. Just talk... just talk..."

 

"No more talk." Pinning him on the bed, my wife planted a forceful kiss on Dennis's mouth. When she let him up for air, he looked like he'd melted into the mattress. That's when she hopped off the bed and opened the closet. "Don't you want what's best for me, Dennis?"

 

"I do," he panted, still flat on his back. "Of course I do."

 

"Wouldn't you do just about anything for me?"

 

"I would! I would! Of course I would."

 

"Well, then..." Pulling a dress that was absolutely bouncing with crinolines out of the closet, she said, "I want you to put this on."