Brian begs you to fuck Adam and Seth Freeman when they deliver the couch

You ease the car to a stop behind the big water tank, out of sight of the road, in that lover's lane parking spot where you'd stolen Brian away from Mandy for good and all. Well, mostly good and all. You turn the engine off. You put the driver's side window a little down for air. There's a nice view over the valley on the down-side of the saddle where the tank rests. The back side of the tank has some paint people have added, hearts and initials -- you imagine "Brian + Mary" among them, though you'd never been wild like that -- and some parts, you know, by themselves or connected, fat lipstick mouths and wieners squirting off or dripping or pissing, and lady lips and big round buns and poop holes.

Brian had got right out there and asked to kiss up on your butthole when you'd told him those girls brought you God's revelation that your dirty back hole carries no shame but is just another piece in His plan for bodily pleasure. But your husband is holding back from telling you something else he wants. He's afraid or ashamed or something, you can see it in his face and his shoulders and you can hear it in his voice.

"Tell me what you want, honeybear. Just say it, whatever. And if it doesn't work, I still want to hear what's in your heart, and we'll pray that wish on its way."

"Sweetie-pie," Brian says. "When I went full-time into long hauls, once the gals were in school, we agreed that we could make love to other people, as long as we held each other in our hearts." Your husband looks like a bashful young man, what with his round cheeks shaved all smooth and an actual blush.

You give your honeybear a broad smile. "God loves love," you say. "And blesses us for it. It's brought us both such joy. And some of your road girls, I've had such a good time talking with them about the pleasure you bring them. I've never had a moment's regret, and I've always known that as much joy as I've shared while you're away, you're the once I'm keeping it warm for. So what is it, hon, do you want to put your wiener in there too, like some of your gals?"

His lips twitch. He takes a deep breath and comes out with it. "If I was out of town on a long haul, and Mr. Freeman came for a delivery with Seth, would you ask them in to bed?"

"I allow that I would," you say. "He's a fine figure of a man. I remember him doing a couple of propane deliveries for us. He's done well for himself in the world. But honeybear, you're not on the road, you're home."

Brian still looks bashful, poor honeybear. "I want to see you with Mr. Freeman. With Seth. Taking them to their joy. To your joy, hon. So whatever you'd ask Mr. Freeman, if I was away, I want you to ask, so I can see you in your joy. It's gonna be a while until I can do you proper, sweetie-pie, so let's keep you warm."

From MAKE HIM BEG, Brian begs you for two more things:

• Fuck Adam Freeman, the salesman who sold you the new couch, a lanky bald-headed Black man who used to drive a propane truck.
• Fuck Seth Freeman, his grown son.

"Oh sweetheart, how generous," you tell him. "Was that what you were so worried about telling me, honeybear? Oh sweetie." You lean over, the seatbelt catching for a moment, and hug him round his shoulders. "Of course I will." You lean back and look him in the eye. "And until you can take me our favorite way, we'll do all the other things. Your doctor sent this nice folder with pictures, and if we do the one where you lie down and I sit on your wiener facing your toes, then I lean forward a little bit? That'll work for both of us."

"I love you so much, Mary," Brian says. "Love just shines out of you everywhere." He laughs. "Even out of your asshole, but I knew that before you did."

"Oh honeybear, now you're making me bashful," you say. "But for now, how are we going to do this?"

You end up kneeling on the driver's seat, head and shoulders out the window, braced on the edge of the rolled-down window, with your bare buns in your husband's face. It still gives you a little tingle of dirty and naughty as he exclaims on how beautiful you are back there, but you remember Clara and Colleen and Louise, those angels of your revelation, and that tingle turns to something else.

"Honeybear, Brian, hon?" you say. "Now that I can hear it, keep on saying it."

"Your little star is so pretty, Mary, I see her winking at me right now," Brian tells you. "And now you've brought her down from Heaven so I can thank her with a kiss."

"Yes, honeybear, tell me again. Kiss that star."

Brian spreads your cheeks and leans forward. Without his beard it's practically like he's someone else.

Roll +HOT(2d6+3), holding one from ASS-LICKING on a 7+.