Wyatt McKay was somebody Christina was trying to do a deal with, this guy down in the South Bay who owned a bunch of health clubs and wanted to partner with her on putting in dance programs at his clubs. They had a couple of meetings, then he set up a lunch to finalize the contracts. Christina drove down to the South Bay and met him at a fancy fish place in Redondo.

“So Christina,” he said to her after they ordered. “I was reading this book, it was a very interesting book. I want to tell you about it.”

Christina was surprised. Wyatt didn’t seem like a big reader. He was a real jock. Former body builder. Blond South Bay type in shorts and sandals, with a Hawaiian shirt and big muscles. Surfer, you know.

“I didn’t know you could read, Wyatt,” she quipped. In addition to being very sexy, my wife is incredibly sassy. That’s why I adore her so much and am the happiest man alive, as I’ve said many times.

“Well, I only read porn,” he said.

Oh shit. Christina had a feeling something bad was coming. She didn’t go by Stevens in her business — she used her maiden name. But she did go by Christina.

“I was reading this book by Colt Stevens,” he said, with a twinkle in his eye. “You ever hear of him?”

“Colt Stevens?” my wife said, though a choked throat.

Of course, Colt Stevens isn’t my real name either. It’s something else Stevens. But my big mistake was giving my wife’s job — a dance consulting firm — in all the books. So here Wyatt was, reading this story about a hotwife who ran a dance company, and he knew that her husband’s name was Stevens. One hell of a coincidence.

“It’s you, isn’t it?” he said, and then, putting on a dramatic voice, he said her fictional name: “Christina Stevens?”

My wife was dumbstruck for a moment.

“I don’t know what you could possibly be talking about,” she said. Then she got back her composure. “So are we going to talk about business, or your porn collection?”

“Oh, my porn collection is quite interesting,” he said. “My thing is cuckold fiction. Do you know about that?”

“Cuckold fiction?” she said, playacting. “Never heard of it.”

“Relax,” he said. “I’m not gonna out you. In fact, it’s the opposite. I want you to help me. You see, I’ve been fantasizing about this stuff for years. But I’ve never been able to get my girlfriend to do it. You know, to cuckold me.”

“You want Leslie to cuckold you?” she said. Christina had met Leslie at one of their first meetings. She worked with Wyatt at the fitness company.

“Yes,” he said. “Maybe you could, you know, talk to her about it, and make her see the…potential of it.”

“Hmmm,” said my wife. “Maybe. I’ll think about it. I might be able to do that.”

“Great,” said Wyatt. Then he picked up the contract, which was for six figures, and he said, “and in the meantime, I’ll think about signing this. I might be able to sign this. We’ll see.”

It was a kind of blackmail.

Wyatt smiled like he was joking. But he wasn’t joking. And so this is what happened. Christina went out for a drink with Leslie and told her all about the cuck lifestyle and blew her mind.

But Leslie had a big fucking mouth.

And soon everybody at Wyatt’s company and at fitness companies all over California had heard this rumor that Christina was a hotwife.

And that’s when what she feared started happening.

All kinds of guys started hitting on her and asking if they could be her bull and so on, as you can imagine.

Guys are pigs.

But strangely enough, it turned out to be really good for business. People were more fascinated than ever with Christina, and this rumor of her being a swinger or a hotwife or whatever really just added to the allure. Even with the straitlaced church types. In fact, especially with the straitlaced church types. They seemed to be the most fascinated of all by this rumor.

Last year her business increased by five hundred percent.

So what we are now, is sort of out. We’ve never confirmed any of the rumors, but there is definitely a buzz about us. And now, something very interesting happens. Every month or so, an attractive man from either my world or Christina’s world will invite us over because he wants to “cook us his lasagna” or “hang outside of work and chill together.”

We always know what that means.