For Mutual Benefit

Bernice had decided that lunching at the Chartier would serve to throw her husband further off the scent of the nature of her intended gift. He might wonder why she had not chosen somewhere more up-market for his birthday lunch, but this was a particular special favourite of theirs. The place was large, busy and noisy. It's history going back over a hundred years, it had been the haunt of artists, poets, philosophers and radicals during the latter half of the nineteenth century and well into the twentieth. Now it was popular both with Parisian business people and tourists alike. The food was simple, but well prepared and presented. Service was quick but the diners where not hurried to finish their meals and make room for newcomers. To the French a meal, however simple, is almost a sacrament it is something to be savoured, respected and most of all never rushed.

One couldn't usually book for lunch at the Chartier, unless perhaps you could promise to bring in a large party. You just turned up and were seated where there was space, even if this meant queuing until a place became available. Couples and singles got priority in the queue as they were easier to seat. No tables were exclusive, if a couple were seated at a table for four or more, which most of them were, another couple or a single would be seated at the same table. This usually meant no one had to wait too long to be seated and sometimes led to some interesting encounters. It was this very aspect of this restaurant that Bernice wanted to exploit to execute her plan. The planned encounter had to be stage-managed with great care to be sure it would work. Bernice knew the right strings to pull to make things work and for this she had tugged them hard. She had even given the Maitre d'hôtel photographs of themselves and her surprise guest to be sure that there would be no mistakes in the seating.

A few minutes after they were seated and the waiter had taken their order for aperitifs another woman was ushered to their table. A stranger to Yves, but Bernice leapt up and greeted her as if she was a long lost friend.

"Monique, darling how wonderful" she gushed pausing only to kiss her friend on both cheeks the way that French women do. The two women prattled on, for what seemed like ages to Yves, exchanging news and titbits of gossip about other apparently mutual friends of whom he had also never heard, while he was left to stand politely and wait to be introduced...

"Darling, I'm so sorry." Bernice eventually declared to her husband. "This is Monique a dear friend of mine. Monique this is my husband Yves."

"Delighted to meet you Madame." Yves formally greeted the interloper shaking her hand.

"And you also Monsieur." she replied with equal formality.

At last they sat, the two women on one side of the table Yves on the other, and set about the important business of ordering and consuming their meal.

The women's chatter continued through the meal, sometimes including Yves, sometimes not. Occasionally one of the women whispered something to the other, this was followed by glance towards Yves, then a whispered reply accompanied by giggles. When Yves tried to discover the reason for the giggles he was told it was just girl talk, not important. Then the conversation was swiftly moved on.

Such was the convincing nature of their performance that Yves would never have guessed that the two women had only met three times before, the first time only about two weeks ago when Bernice had interviewed Monique to judge her suitability, the second time just yesterday to plan and rehearse this 'accidental' meeting. The third only little more than an hour ago while Yves was kept waiting for his date with his wife.

Yves could not help but notice the striking similarity between the two women in front of him. Monique looked very much like Bernice had done twenty years or so ago. She had the same Mediterranean complexion as his wife, the same glossy black hair. Her breasts, maybe a cup-size or two smaller than his wife's he guessed, were proud and carried high on her chest. The top of her blouse open just enough to reveal a tantalising glimpse of cleavage but not so much to appear cheap or tarty. He had noticed when she had first arrived at their table that her legs where long and shapely her skirt was short, but not immodest. She was gorgeous, almost the living embodiment of what he thought of as his ideal woman. After his own dear wife naturally, he guiltily corrected himself.

He knew nothing of course of the painstaking care his wife had taken over the previous weeks searching out and eventually finding the right woman for the job she had in mind. She had considered friends, members of her family, a distant cousin came close to the ideal but she lived too far away for things to work out as she wished. She turned her attention to the internet, specifically adult dating sites, exchanging messages, then e-mails with several 'possibles' only to reject them. Eventually she found:

'Hot & Sexy Monique, Parisienne, 34, Divorced, No children, Seeks older man for no-strings-attached fun.'

E-mails were exchanged probing questions asked and satisfactorily answered. A long time was spent on the telephone. Then two weeks ago they met, Monique was ideal, the photos that she had sent did not do justice to her true beauty. The fact that she looked so much like Bernice herself was the icing on the cake.

Between dessert and coffee Monique excused herself from the table for a few minutes and Bernice moved around next to her husband. She lent over to him and whispered into his ear so her voice would not carry over the background buzz of the conversations around them:

"What do you think of Monique, isn't she lovely, does she remind you of anyone by any chance?"

"Yes she is and she does. She looks almost the same as you did when you were her age."

"Better than that I hope, she is older than she looks, I was a wreck at her age." She shivered at the memory. "But let's not dwell on those days. Tell me do you fancy her, would you like to take her to bed, do you want to... fuck her?"

For a few moments the question was left hanging. Yves was not often lost for words but now he was dumbstruck and he stared at is wife in confusion and disbelief. Except in rare moments of extreme anger Bernice never used what she considered to be coarse language in public, but behind the closed bedroom door she had no qualms about using 'dirty talk' to season their lovemaking. So her use of the word 'fuck' so emphatically here must have special significance.

Having not received a reply Bernice continued:

"She is quite taken with you. I can't see her objecting if you did try to get her into bed. What is more my love, neither would I!"

Another pause, another look of confused disbelief verging on awe passed from husband to wife as the full meaning of what she was telling him began to sink in. Again she continued her whispered monologue:

"Your happiness my darling is the most important thing in my life. I know that I can't satisfy you in the way that you would like me to, so if that means that you have to sleep with another woman so be it. I just want to know who it is and that I can trust her. But now we have teased you enough. Yes Yves, your present, it's Monique. Happy birthday my darling, I do so very much hope that you enjoy her."

Still unable to speak Yves simply embraced his wife and kissed her with sudden passion.

"Good that's settled then."

She declared as she disengaged herself from his embrace then moved back to the other side of the table as Monique, who had been waiting just out of sight for her cue, returned. A glance and almost imperceptible nods were exchanged by the women then Monique sat down beside Yves. She looked him deep in the eyes for a long moment. Then:

"Yes?" she simply asked.

"Oh, yes please." Came his breathy reply.

"Superb," interjected Bernice. "Now let's finish our coffee, settle the bill, then you Yves can take your birthday present for a test drive."

A few minutes later found the three of them, the husband, the wife and the mistress, in front of the grand entrance steps of a Five Star hotel on Boulevard Haussmann.

"I have booked a room for you, in here." Bernice told the other two nodding her head towards the hotel entrance. "Now go and enjoy yourselves and I shall see you both at home about midday tomorrow. I'm sure there will be a lot that we shall need to talk about."

With that she embraced and kissed them both then quickly walked away, hoping that the other two had not seen the tears that were beginning to well up in her eyes. Fervently hoping, nay praying, that she had done the right thing.

It was a most memorable 'test drive' Yves reflected later. That afternoon, evening, night and the following morning that he had spent in bed with Monique. No not just the bed he corrected himself, the shower, the Jacuzzi bath, the bathroom counter. The new lovers had made use of every facility provided by the expensive hotel room that Bernice had secured for them. Fuelled by a good lunch, copious amounts of champagne, club sandwiches and aided by the pharmaceutical help, in the form of a blue diamond shaped tablet, of Sildenafil citrate; a thoughtful addition present from Bernice to her husband and his new mistress. This was some of the best, most prolonged and varied sex that Yves had ever enjoyed. In her youth Bernice had been the most vigorous and demanding lover but even at her peak she would have been hard pressed to match the almost insatiable appetite that Monique seemed to possess.

Yves had been hesitant at first, his usually strong and confident demeanour, thrown off balance by this sudden change of situation.

He remembered that Bernice had been hurt and angry that night when she had confronted him with his infidelities. What was that, ten years ago now? Even then she had demonstrated that love and understanding were a better ways to solve the problem rather than arguments and recriminations. That very same night she had offered him her body and together they had restarted their failed sex life. Now once again their marital sex had waned but this time his loving, resourceful wife had determined that he situation should be managed differently. Not wishing her husband to stray again between the legs of some nameless stranger, but at the same time not wanting to deny his carnal desires she had found the almost perfect compromise. As a good manager she had delegated. Delegated the satisfaction of her husbands lust to someone in whom she had confidence could give satisfaction to the greatest degree. This time it was not her own body she had offered to him but that of Monique. Yves felt humbled by the love, understanding and selfless generosity again shown to him by his wife. His love for her was redoubled.

The image of Monique when he had first seen her undressed was indelibly imprinted on Yves memory. On entering the bedroom she had quickly discarded her jacket, skirt and blouse. She stood before him clad only in her white lace bra and panties. The white fabric offset perfectly her black hair and dark Mediterranean complexion. He could clearly see the darker peaks of her nipples pressing against the white lace of her bra, the dark triangle of her pubic hair barely concealed by her brief panties. The way those panties clung to the folds of her womanhood clearly advertised that she was already highly aroused. She stood before him in a pose of supplication, arms outstretched towards him, an invitation to him to gather her up and take her.

"Happy birthday Yves" she had almost whispered in a breathy, seductive voice. "Don't you want open your birthday present, I am certain that you will enjoy it?"

Shoes and stockings neither had she yet removed. Her high-heels accentuated the strong yet very feminine curves of her long, nylon clad, legs. Oh how Yves loved stockings. The colour was just right too, nothing as blatantly obvious as black, but a dark shade of tan that almost exactly matched her flesh tone. The high lacy welts on the stockings and the deep v cut of her panties drawing his focus to the seat of her sex. The anticipation of the feeling of cool smooth nylon brushing against his naked thighs while he drove his turgid cock into her wet willing pussy quickly banished any doubts that had remained in Yves' mind. He drew her to him in a strong embrace, they kissed deeply, hungrily with a powerful lust fired passion as she ground her crotch against his still trouser clad erection.

And that, that was only the overture to a very long night indeed.

"Oh my god Yves you look terrible, did she try to kill you?"

Were the first words to greet the lovers when they arrived at chez Giraud the following noon.

"Yes my love she did, I only just survived." He replied a schoolboy smirk spreading across his face.

"He did far better than survive Madame." The mistress corrected in a formal style but her voice sounding far away and dreamy. Her eyes were misty, she had the look of a woman sated but still hungry for more.

"Oh yes Madame he did so, so much more than just survive."

"Spare me the details!" The older woman admonished. "All I need to know is that your... meeting was... satisfactory."

"More than satisfactory Madame" the mistress replied continuing the formal tone that she had adopted. "I think I can safely say that the outcome far exceeded expectations."

"Excellent! That is just the news I wanted to hear. And you Yves? No I don't think you need to answer, your face tells me every thing I need to know. Now off you go husband dear and have a little rest. I need to talk to this lady in private for a few minutes. Not too long though, lunch is almost ready, I shall call you... Oh and do please try to stop looking like a Cheshire cat dear, you might hurt yourself!"

This was a meeting that both women had been secretly dreading, it could have been a very difficult one if things had not gone as well as they obviously had.

Good preparation was the key to success Bernice firmly believed, and she had prepared for the events of the previous day down to the finest detail. Not the actual sex of course, she was sure that two lust driven adults such as Monique and Yves were could manage that very well for themselves. However she had advised Monique on Yves sexual preferences, his likes and dislikes in that department. Neither were the details of Monique's wardrobe for the first meeting left to chance. The seductive underwear and stockings that Monique had worn were being been inspected and approved 'in-situ' by Bernice in her private office even while Yves had been kept waiting for his wife in the foyer of the office building.

"Madame Giraud is just taking a call from an important client Monsieur. She asks that you wait here and she will be with you in a few minutes" The receptionist had been instructed to tell him on his arrival.

Such a web of deceits had the wife woven to entice her husband into the arrangement that she had planned his pleasure.

Now all was in place Bernice vowed that there should be no more secrets, no more deceits between wife and husband. Unless of course the deceit was only there to act as camouflage for a pleasant surprise.

Back to the business in hand, further details had to be settled. Discretion was important, although the desire of men to take mistresses was well understood by French society but it didn't do to be blatant about it. Neither was it unheard of for wife and mistress to maintain friendly relations. However, what Bernice had in mind owed more to the nineteenth century than the twenty-first. Both she and her husband had busy social lives and jobs that often meant working irregular hours. Liaisons with his mistress would need to be carefully scheduled in advance to avoid clashes. Just another function of the private diaries that the wife kept for both her husband and herself. Nor did she expect Monique to be sitting at home waiting for Yves call, she had a life of her own to lead outside the arrangement.

The matter of Monique's sexual health was the only major condition to which was put upon her. As part of the preparations she had been required to present evidence that she was free from STDs and using a reliable form of contraception. Further, that she should take regular tests if she wished to continue having sex with men other than Yves. The burden was not onerous but it was one that Bernice had vehemently insisted upon. Skin to skin Bernice had explained was the only proper way to enjoy sex in her opinion and she only wanted the very best for her husband. Monique had agreed and complied.

All of these topics had already been covered at length either on the phone or at previous meetings. The main reason for this meeting was to confirm that their agreement was equitable and that the affair would continue as arranged. The only subject that had not been previously discussed in any detail was the question of Monique's accommodation. Bernice wished for Monique to move to a better district than the one where she currently lived. With Bernice's help she would find a new and better apartment. On the matter of rent, Bernice would pay the difference between the old and the new. Both women felt that paying the whole rent would imply that Monique was no more that Yves paid whore and that would be no more or less than a gross insult. Yet some modest compensation to offset Monique's increased living expenses, while the arrangement lasted, would not be inappropriate.

Business settled, Yves was recalled and over lunch was appraised of and agreed to what the women, his women, had already arranged. He could find no fault in the arrangements, for himself he could see only benefits, every detail appeared to have been covered. For the moment his extramarital liaisons would be conducted in discreet hotels, but once his mistress had relocated, her apartment would become the usual venue for the satisfaction of his lust. Diaries were consulted so that the date and time for his next 'appointment' could be set. At which point Yves complained, out loud this time:

"I am the victim of a female conspiracy, isn't it bad enough that my wife and my PA gang up on me, but now my mistress has to join in as well! Mind you," he continued laughing, "in this case I am a very willing and happy victim."

So eventually, after many kisses and embraces from both husband and wife, the mistress took her leave of them. Then taking his wife by the hand Yves led her to their bedroom where he expressed his love and gratitude to her in the most appropriate way.

Months passed, Monique and Bernice spoke on the phone, or met, frequently to discuss the business of keeping Yves' lust satisfied. Nothing was ever discussed of what passed between the lovers behind the bedroom door, or anywhere and everywhere in Monique's apartment to be more accurate, just times and dates of appointments and assurances that all was well between the man and both his women. Increasingly their meetings and conversations would become prolonged by chat of a more general nature. Of clothes, of social events, of what so-and-so was doing with such-and-such, all those topics of conversation that women find so fascinating and men find so baffling. Over time the wife and the mistress grew closer together and became firm friends.

Typically Yves and Monique would meet about twice a week for a few hours in the afternoon or the evening, although occasionally he would spend a whole night with his mistress usually on a Friday or a Saturday when he had the following day to recover from her demanding lust. The marathon session that they had both enjoyed at their first meeting was a one-off but if he spent the night he didn't expect sleep to come very high on the agenda.