Thursday morning, I found myself in deep, concentrated thought. Not about Annie. Not about the mysteries of life, time and space. I was at work. My desk was covered with papers, a styrofoam cup filled halfway with cold coffee, and a two-thirds eaten doughnut. My eyes were glued to the computer screen. We had been going through a server migration, and I had been working there long enough to know our database system inside out, so naturally I had been chosen for the project. Suddenly, Linda walked in.

  "Hi, Will."
  "Oh, hi, Linda."

  Because she was my wife, I was one of the few at the company to routinely address her by her first name, rather than as "Mrs. Hansen." I liked to think this meant she was my wife first, and my boss second.

  "How's it coming along?" she asked, somewhat disinterestedly, peering at my monitor.
  "I think if I concentrate, I might get it all worked out by the end of the day."
  "That's my little worker bee," she said with a smile.

  She moved some papers, and took a seat on the end of my desk. She sat with her stocking-clad legs crossed, and dangled one of her black pumps by her toes. Her brunette hair was done up in a bun. Her blouse faithfully upheld her ample breasts.

  "So, how is everything going with that girl, Amy?"
  "That's Annie. Um, it's going well. She's not too much trouble."
  "Good, good. You know, it's been awfully quiet at home without you. Hey, why don't you and I go out for some lunch, hm?"
  "That's all right, I brought something." I replied. "Plus, I really need to concentrate on what I'm doing."
  "Please, Will? I miss spending time with you outside work."
  I sighed.
  "All right. What did you have in mind? That fajita place down the street, or..."
  She placed her hand on mine and squeezed.
  "Actually, I had something a little different in mind."

***

  I was in the passenger seat.

  Linda was driving. I leaned my head against the window of the car. My mind was still at work. I knew I should have been feeling frisky, considering the spur-of-the-moment tryst that lay ahead of us, but, somehow, I just wasn't excited. I didn't know whether it was work that was getting to me, or what, but I felt a strange... apathy, as if my surroundings at that particular moment didn't matter, or weren't real. I just felt sort of--

  "Bored?" asked Linda. She squeezed my leg.
  "Come on, honey, forget about work for a bit. I'm really in the mood, and I need you to do this for me."

  I hadn't torn my gaze from the view outside. We passed that fajita place. I found myself wishing we could have gone there instead. She grabbed my hand. She lifted it up. I started as I realized she had my pinky in her mouth. Now, let's stop right there. In order for you to appreciate the significance of that gesture, and what it meant at that particular moment as we sat next to each other in the car, we need to go back about eight years. I am a little hesitant to relate the following anecdote, as it's a little personal (and kind of embarrassing), but it's necessary if you are to understand my relationship with Linda. This is the story of our first time.

  We had been sitting in a car that night eight years ago as well. It was her father's car, which had been borrowed for the occasion, as neither of us had one of our own yet. I was in the passenger seat. Linda was driving. I think I had offered to drive, but I don't remember whether Linda had insisted, or her father had not trusted me with his car. We had been dating for about two months. We had mostly gone out on group dates with Linda's friends until this point. This was our first time out, just the two of us, with a car to ourselves. I was tense. We had already kissed at that point, but I had some trepidation about going further. I just didn't feel I was ready to start making a move on her. We had just come from a movie and she was driving to my house to drop me off. I noticed that she had missed the turn. I told her, but she said nothing. I began to worry.

  "Where are we going?" I asked.
  "You'll see."

  Suddenly I saw ahead of us the entrance to a public park in our home town. It was more of a nature type park than a recreational park, with hiking trails and picnic benches, and rusted metal grills sticking out of the ground here and there. I had often gone hiking there with my high school buddies. Visiting that park had always filled my mind with bright, happy memories. But that night the brown wooden entrance sign with carved yellow lettering looked strangely foreboding illuminated by the car's headlights.

  "Linda, what are we doing here? I think we should go home. It's a school night. Besides, I don't think we're supposed to be here at night. What if the cops--"
  "Come on, Will, where's your sense of adventure?"

  We had driven up the hill overlooking a field in the park. As we approached an eerily empty parking lot, I no longer had any doubts about why we had come here. I heard the gravel beneath us being ground by the tires as the car rolled into a parking space. The car let out a high-pitched squeak as Linda applied the brakes. Linda turned the key, and we were left in the dark. The chirping of crickets replaced the low rumble of the engine.

  We sat there without uttering a word for some time. Linda was the first to speak.

  "Will, do you love me?"

  I could faintly see the twinkles that were her moon-lit eyes. I couldn't make out what expression her face bore. I had thought I felt something for her, yet I dreaded to hear that question, dreaded to be put on the spot like that.

  "Yes, Linda, I love you."

  I had answered quickly, not so much out of confidence in my answer, as out of fear of pondering that question any longer, or of letting hesitation be my answer. Suddenly, she undid her seatbelt. I saw her draw in for a kiss, and I obliged. My heartbeat picked up. The kiss was pleasant, but this did not deter my nervousness. She drew her soft lips back with a smack, letting out a sensuous sigh. We had both started to sweat. She was making the first move, and I knew she wanted to go all the way tonight. She asked me if I loved her, and I said yes, I thought. If I refused to go along now... My mind was torn between lust and doubt. Were we ready for this? Did I really love her?

  "Mmm... that was good," she breathed, as she started to unbutton her blouse.
  "Linda, are you sure you want to do this?"

  I was kicking myself for having so understated my reservations by asking that question. But it was futile. By now she had removed her blouse, and she kissed me again, the second time almost as long as the first. I momentarily lost track of my thoughts as I was sucked back into warm intoxication.

  "Does that answer your question?"
Suddenly she got off her seat and climbed on top of me.
  "Linda, I... I really don't think we're ready for this, yet."
She kissed me yet again, ignoring my plea.
  "I mean it, Linda."

  I tried to maneuver her off of me, but she wouldn't budge. I reached out my hand to push her away, but she grabbed my hand, and took my pinky into her mouth. I could feel her warm tongue greedily, suggestively enveloping the length of my finger. Pleasure and adrenaline surged through my body. At that moment I abandoned my attempt to dissuade her. I had not changed my mind. Rather, I had submitted. I felt an erection growing. Linda started to undo my pants. She unzipped me, and gripped me in anticipation. She reclined my chair back. She leaned in close.

  "You like it when I'm a bad girl, don't you?"
 Her voice was higher back then, but carried the same authoritative tone she would use years later as a manager.

  "Well, we're here."

  I snapped back to the present moment. I saw that we had indeed arrived at our apartment. Earlier, I had not been feeling aroused, but recalling our first time had changed that. I recalled the trepidation leading up to that moment, but I vaguely remembered that I had felt glad afterwards. Hadn't I? I must have felt good about having finally gotten laid. I followed my still young and attractive wife back into the house.

  Before very long, before we had gotten fully undressed even, we started kissing passionately. At last we were naked, and she beckoned me towards the bed.

  "Do you love me?" she asked.
  "More than anything," I responded without hesitation. As if trained.
  I caressed her dark, silky hair as she looked hungrily into my eyes.
  "Oh, Will," she said playfully.
  "Yes?"
  "I don't know if I'm in the mood after all."
  This was a game we had often played.
  "It's a pity we drove all this way," she said, smiling.

  I knew what she was getting at. I got off her and crawled to the end of the bed. This was her sweet spot. I had to do this, then she was mine. I grabbed her feet and began massaging them. She loved this. This was her sure fire turn-on. I kneaded her plump, sweaty soles, as she began to moan.

  "Oh, yes, Will..."
  I was about to continue making love, when suddenly, she asked me something she never had before.

  "Will, lick them."
  "What?"
  "Lick my feet, Will," she replied, in a strangely firm tone.

  I hesitated a moment. She had always asked me to rub my feet, but never to lick them. I looked up at her, and I was surprised to find a serious face looking back at me. I deliberated. I thought it was a strange request, and not a very pleasant one, for me at least. But I knew from experience that I had to please her feet before I could get what I wanted. I brought my face to her sole. I could feel its warmth, and the smell, to my surprise, was not completely unpleasant. Slowly, I parted my lips, and extended my tongue. I started with a few little laps, and soon was going at it with gusto, striving to moisten every square centimeter of her sole. It wasn't that bad, I thought. I looked up at Linda, who was beside herself with pleasure, rubbing herself, and looking at me, evidently enjoying what she was seeing as much as what she was feeling. The thought of pleasing her suddenly aroused me. At that moment, with my wife's foot in my mouth, it seemed the most loving way to serve her.

  We were both recovering as we drove back to the office. We didn't exchange so much as a word during the whole ride. I thought our little tryst had been incredible. After the arousal had worn off a little, however, I felt uneasy. I suddenly couldn't believe I actually licked her feet. At the time it seemed hot, but now I felt somewhat ashamed. I decided I shouldn't feel ashamed about pleasing my wife. That's what husbands are supposed to do, I thought.

  Soon I was busy at my desk again. I heard talking in the hallway. I peeked my head out the door, and I saw Linda, talking with that new assistant of hers, Cory. I returned to work, when I heard the clopping of my wife's heels coming down the hallway.

  "How's that new guy? Cory, is it?" I called to her.
  She stepped into my office.
  "Oh, he's good."
  She thought a moment.
  "You know, he reminds me of you."
  She continued down the hallway.

  Suddenly realizing I hadn't had lunch, I decided to make my way to the break room. I saw Cory sitting at the table, having his lunch. Retrieving my tuna sandwich from the fridge, I took a seat next to him. He was a little timid, but I managed to start some small talk with him. When I asked him why Linda hired such a young assistant, he said it was because he "does what she says", and that she "admired his initiative". He asked me about the merger the higher-ups were supposedly considering, and I confirmed the rumor. I told him they had been having meetings already with the CEOs of the other company. He asked me if Linda attended these meetings. I told him she did. I then expressed doubt about the merger, being more familiar with the reputed stubbornness of said CEOs. He disagreed. I was surprised such a young, inexperienced kid would have the guts to have an opinion on something like this, so I asked him why.

  He shrugged and answered, "Your wife is a powerful woman, Mr. Hansen. she can get whatever she wants."

  Suddenly, Linda came into the break room, and asked to talk to Cory. I continued eating my sandwich, mostly ignoring their conversation, though I did catch the end of it.

  "Yes, Mrs. Hansen."
  "Please, call me Linda."

***

  When I arrived back at the condo, Annie greeted me at the door, happy as ever to see me. I plopped down on the couch. I was exhausted.

  "Well, you certainly look tired," Annie said.
  "Would you like a beer, Will?"
  "Sure, thanks."

  She had read my mind. It would be a quiet evening. Annie and I didn't play any of her games that night. She had evidently sensed that I had had quite enough excitement that day. It had been a busy and interesting day, to say the least. I'm sure Annie had been too young to really understand any of that. I spent a few moments thinking about how young and carefree she was, and whether she appreciated that. Then a strange question seemed to pop into my head: If I had the chance to start over, to look at my life and the world anew, like someone Annie's age, would I do it?