Craig and I had a conversation about regrets, and it was a sure sign of how serious we were getting. We’d been dating for six months. Good — no, great — romance and sex. We were exclusive, and I was very happy.

““Hmm, regrets,” I mused. I was at his place, and he’d made us breakfast. On top of the wonderful sex Craig had delivered the night before, he was also a terrific cook. “You mean things I wished I hadn’t done?” I asked.

“Well, more like stuff you wished you had experienced,” he said, pausing to take a sip of coffee. “Are there any items missing from your sex life’s checklist?”

I smirked. We could talk intimately like this, which was really nice. Craig was smart, funny and empathetic. But it was plain he wasn’t kidding. I gave his question real thought. Finally, my face heated in a blush.

“I think you’ve just thought of something,” he said, chuckling softly.

I looked across the kitchen table at him and replied, “Do you really want to know?”

“I do.”

“You won’t get upset? Or weird? Or jealous?”

“Absolutely not.” He sounded sincere, and I believed him.

Even so, I hesitated before saying, “OK, I wish I’d gotten to have completely anonymous sex at some point in my life. The kind of stranger-meets-stranger encounter where nobody says a single word. We just strip, fuck, then walk away. I wouldn’t know his name afterward, and he wouldn’t know anything about me. There. That’s my silly regret. Are you glad you asked?”

I waited tensely, despite my deep trust in my boyfriend. He gazed thoughtfully at me and replied, “Actually, I’m very glad I asked. Thank you.”

Later on, I understood what got set in motion by that conversation. Craig didn’t mention it again for a week, though it stayed in my memory. That anonymous sex fantasy really was my all-time wish, something incredible and improbable, the sort of scenario that probably almost never happened in real life.

I needlessly reminded myself how happy I was with Craig and tried to put my sex dream out of my mind. A week had gone by, and one evening after we’d just finished screwing, he said to me, “I have set it up for you, if you’re interested. Your anonymous sex session. It’s all ready to happen. Just give the word.”

At first, I couldn’t even process his words. My brain and body were still in their usual whirl after a torrid fuck with Craig. I blinked at the bedroom ceiling.

Then it became clear to me. I sat up, shot him a dire look and asked, “What the hell are you saying?” Even though I knew damn well what he meant.

He met my gaze and said, “You’ll go to an address. A man will be waiting. He won’t speak. You two will fuck. Then, he’ll leave. No questions. No small talk.”

I babbled at him. My emotions were a mix of outrage, admiration, incredulity and who knew what else. He waited patiently, without answering any of my rapid-fire questions. Finally, when I ran out of steam, he said, “This is yes or no. If I tell you any more details, that would spoil it.”

With that, I felt an overwhelming surge of affection for him. I saw unmistakably that this was for my pleasure, my fulfillment. That was when I seriously considered his proposal.

Eventually, I said, “One thing you do have to tell me. Will you be there watching?”

He smiled, seeing I’d made up my mind, and added, “If so, it will be from the shadows.”

I said yes, and then flung myself onto him again. He was ready for me, his cock hard again; that told me this scenario excited him as well.

To say I was nervous on the night of my arranged tryst was to understate the situation grossly. I was actually shivering as I drove across town. Earlier that day, Craig had texted me an address — nothing else, no message, no word of encouragement. Truly, my hookup was to be an anonymous event.

I pulled up at an industrial-looking building, consisting of rentable lofts. I cut my car’s engine. Still gripping the steering wheel, I forced my nervous shakes to go away. Excitement coursed through me. I knew this was against all the normal rules of relationships. No boyfriend should be generous enough to loan out his girlfriend to a man who would still be a stranger to her at the end of a night of sex.

But I wanted this! I climbed the stairs and found the door of the appropriate loft open. Going inside, I saw a wide shadowy space where the only real light shone on a bed. A man stood beside it. He was handsome and nicely dressed. He smiled at me and held out his hand.

I won’t lie — I almost turned and bolted. But I thought of the trouble Craig must have gone to. I crossed the loft and took the stranger’s hand. He pulled me, gently but earnestly, and I moved into his arms. Our bodies were pressed together. Our mouths smoothly met, and after that I had no hesitations.

We ground our bodies together; his was strong and firm. My breasts were crushed against his hard pecs. He rubbed his crotch on mine, and I felt the swell of his erection. Our tongues tangled, and I groaned deep in my throat.

But there were no words. We tugged and yanked at each other’s clothing. The items fell away, and soon we were both naked. His cock throbbed against my lower belly. My stiffened nipples poked him. We broke our kiss long enough to climb onto the bed.

His strong hands moved over me. He had callused fingertips, and I wondered what he did for a living. Then I thought, giddily, I’ll never know!

This man was an absolute mystery, and he would stay that way.

As he fondled my tits, my nipples hardened to diamond-hard points and I caressed his muscled back. I reached down and boldly groped his ass. His cock was still rubbing against my lower abdomen.

I took him in my hand, squeezing his formidable length. He sucked air in through his teeth, and pleasure passed over his features like a cloud’s shadow over open land. I jerked his shaft, loving the velvety texture of his skin and the hardness of his rod beneath.

This was the first time in my life I’d ever taken a stranger’s cock in my grip. Not even at the wildest parties — or that one time I went to Mardi Gras — had this ever happened. I was beyond thrilled.

The stranger reached between my legs and started gently stroking my pussy. My groove was already damp. I let him get his fingers past my outer lips, relishing the hot tingles that reverberated through me, then I moved beyond his reach. I maneuvered him onto his back and scrambled down between his legs.

His handsome cock reared up before my face. I savored the line I was crossing, the rules I was breaking. My tongue swirled around his thick cockhead, and he shuddered with ecstasy. I closed my lips over him and dropped my mouth onto his staff, swallowing until his knob was in my throat.

A nameless man’s cock — in my mouth! The thought alone was almost enough to make me come.

I bobbed my head, finding that familiar cocksucking rhythm. I kept my lips sealed around him, giving him some ball-tingling suction. He groaned, and his hands clawed at the bedding. But he said nothing, not even the standard: Yeah! Suck it, baby!

Craig had promised there would be no words.

Whoever this stranger was, he possessed incredible restraint. After a few minutes of my best deep-throating, he gently pried me off of him. He pushed me back, settled between my thighs and reciprocated my oral attentions.

We knew nothing about one another’s specific preferences, none of the little quirks regular lovers learn to decode. But his general technique was superb. His agile tongue licked my cleft up and down. I rocked my hips, and he homed in on my clit, which was pulsing with need. When his tongue tip touched it, my whole body jumped. I let out a happy moan to let him know how good it was.

He kept up his actions, and soon I was going over the top. Pleasure rocked me, and his mouth stayed in place, taking all of my overflowing juices.

When he sat up and I wordlessly indicated that I wanted to ride him, I heard a sound somewhere in the loft, away from our bed. I glanced around at the many shadows. Had I heard the scuff of a shoe?

I remembered Craig had said he might be watching us. The idea made my heart soar and my pussy ripple. My boyfriend’s eyes could be on us at that very moment!

My stranger lay back, and I got on top of him, slipping his spit-slick cock into my waiting pussy hole. My cunt clenched him as I lowered myself, enjoying every inch of him. I was looking down at him, still grinning and thinking: You know nothing about me, and you never will!

Yet there we were, partaking in the most intimate act there can be between two people. I rocked up and down on my knees, taking him into myself all the way. He touched me at my core, and I ground down hard on him, twisting my body.

This man could be anybody. But at that moment he was my lover, and we were joined. I rode him, wriggling and sighing, and soon a fresh climax was building for me. He thrust up into me, adding to the crisis of my pleasure.

I let out a howl, which echoed around the space. As it died, I was sure I heard a grunt in the darkness. I imagined Craig with his eyes riveted on us and his cock in hand as he pumped himself.

The image blazed in my mind as I fell limply back. The stranger caught me, set himself atop me, and began fucking away. He was going into his final stretch, and I set my body into motion again, wanting a last blast of ecstasy to cement his memory forever in my mind.

Our bodies smacked together wildly, and a new bloom of fiery bliss seized me. We came seconds apart, and his gooey jets of jizz spurted into me.

I dozed off a little and was aware of my lover dressing. But when I looked, he was gone and Craig was stepping out of the shadows.