That Prague's old city was never torn down to be rebuilt in concrete was perhaps the only positive legacy of communist misrule. Not that this was intentional of course. Given the chance, the party would have razed St Nicholas Cathedral and everything around it. But the sputtering economy and Moscow's greedy hands in the Czech treasury had kept most of the party's ambitions in check. Lacking the funds needed to actually tear down and replace Prague's bohemian grandeur, the party printed maps showing the city as it would become.

In the communist era, the propaganda map was the only one hotels were allowed to give to their guests. Countless communist era tourists got lost trying to follow the useless maps but nobody complained because that was unwise.

There were 119 steps to the top of the church roof, the number symbolizing spiritual perfection and victory. At the top, Anna unfolded the copy of the map she had been given at the Museum of Communism and compared it to the streets below. It was late December and the morning sun had not yet melted the overnight snow on the westerly facing roofs. The Paris of Eastern Europe had survived communism and remained the romantic city of charm and color that Kafka and Dvorak had known.

The only communist era building Anna could see from the church roof was the hotel she was staying in. "Stay at the Hilton International, and it won't spoil the view from your window," a friend had told her. It had been built for use by the party nomenclatura and to earn hard currency from tourists. But the Velvet Revolution had swept the party away only weeks before the planned grand opening and it had become a Hilton a couple of years later.

As she descended the stairs to street level, Anna mused that the older priests might have appreciated a little less perfection, victory or both. For the next hour, it amused her to follow the propaganda map to Wenceslas Square where Peter had found what he claimed was the ideal place to have lunch: A restaurant with a model railway delivering beer to the tables.

Wenceslas Square itself was a disappointment, the National Museum at the North West end is impressive enough but like Moscow's Red Square or Bejing's Tiananmen, rather too much of the square itself had been paved over and for the same purposes. Where ranks of uniformed soldiers had once marched, a line of men queued outside an ugly concrete barn whose lower windows were decorated with silhouettes of dancing women. According to the map, it was a department store but it had become a five storey strip club.

Inside the restaurant, Peter had been joined by some colleagues from the conference he was in Prague to attend. Four members of the party were engaged in an intense discussion about the design of something called the QUIC spin bit while the fifth flipped through a stack of leaflets advertising the local attractions.

"The spin bit doesn't interest you?" Anna began.

"Not in the slightest," the man replied, "but my wife finds it quite fascinating. I'm Mike by the way. Are you another spin bit aficionado?"

There was a pause in the discussion while Peter introduced Anna to the rest of the party, beer was ordered and the engineers resumed their discussion of the spin bit.

As Anna and Mike were chatting about the places they might like to visit, a group of drunken men wearing red football shirts began a heated argument outside the strip club entrance with another group in blue. A can of beer was thrown and then a fist. At which point the doors of the club opened and four very large men in black uniforms stepped out. A few moments later, the street was filled with police cars and order restored.

"Efficient," Anna observed.

"Some people can fuck up anything," Mike sighed, "Stag night by the looks, probably drunk before the plane landed."

"It's not fair!" Anna retorted.

"A night in jail seems fair enough to me!" Mike replied.

"You men get a pussy palace where you can fuck any girl you chose," Anna grumbled, "and you still..."

"We still fuck it up, yes," Mike continued, "But if it will make you feel any better, the chances of them getting laid in that establishment were never high."

"And how do you know?" A woman's voice interrupted sternly.

"If only there was a global computer network that we could connect to with the accumulated store of all human knowledge that we could query from a portable telephonic supercomputer!" Mike responded, "I Googled the reviews while you were spinning bits."

"My husband is unfaithful," Mike's wife replied with mock disappointment, "Google!"

"Hey, you are the one who works for Microsoft, not me," Mike shot back.

"Lunch is on Google!" someone chipped in. After some further banter, Microsoft paid the bill and the engineers returned to their meeting leaving the tourists to finish their beer and pizza.

"Is it true?" Anna asked Mike when they were alone.

"That I'm unfaithful to my wife?" Mike shot back.

"I wasn't asking that!" Anna retorted, swatting at Mike, "Is that place is a fraud?"

"According to the reviews, yes. It is what is known as a clip joint," Mike asserted.

"So I was wrong, men don't get a pussy palace after all," Anna said.

"That would be incorrect as well," Mike replied, "There are many genuine brothels in Prague. That's just not one of them."

"So it is unfair, men get a place where they can fuck any girl you chose and women don't," Anna insisted.

"Also incorrect," Mike replied, "but would you want to go there if I told you where it is?"

Anna was finding it fun to flirt even though the flirting couldn't lead anywhere. Mike's interest was obvious but he wasn't pushing his luck.

Mike explained that there were several swingers clubs in the city where couples went to have sex. Some just liked to have sex in front of other people, others liked to swap partners. If there was any unfairness it was towards men as single men were not allowed in at all while single women could visit for free.

"Have you been to one?" Anna asked.

"My wife is a prude," Mike replied, "what about you?"

"My husband is a prude as well!" Anna confessed, "As am I, in case that is what you were proposing!"

"Would I?" Mike retorted.

"I don't think I should answer that," Anna said laughing, "Do you have anything more appropriate?"

What Mike had in mind was not exactly appropriate but it wasn't exactly cheating either.

Anna had visited the Sex Museum in Amsterdam with Peter and had expected the Museum of Sex Machines to be little different: a small building, sparsely furnished with mediocre exhibits designed to part tourists from a few coins. But is was actually rather interesting.

There was a replica of a Roman sandal with the words 'follow my footsteps' cut into the sole. A prostitute wearing them would leave a trail of advertisements for her brothel as she walked through the town's muddy streets. There was a collection of chastity belts ranging from the medieval (which were presumed to be Victorian fakes) to the modern (and very much genuine).

It is often said that the early popularity of VCRs was driven by the demand for pornography. One display exposed this as an urban legend. In the early years, the VCR manufacturers kept close control of the production of tapes to prevent the technology being associated with 'unwholesome' entertainment. It was only after sales of VCRs had taken off that the first porn tapes were produced.

While porn didn't really drive demand for the VCR, sales of vibrators played a central role in the arrival of electricity in the Victorian home.

Victorian morality held sex that respectable women should consider sex to be an ordeal to be endured. Only vulgar women of the lower classes could take pleasure from such a distasteful activity. Sex within a middle class marriage should be joyless and unsatisfying for men and women alike. Men could find sexual relief in the arms of prostitutes while their unfortunate wives were driven to madness for the want of a good hard fuck. Until that is, a certain doctor (whose name is disputed) discovered a cure for the pandemic of 'female hysteria' by 'inducing a pelvic paroxysm'. Which in plain language meant that he massaged the women's clitoris until she had an orgasm.

Noting the immense profitability of the physician's enterprise a small army of inventors patented an astonishing variety of mechanical devices offering the same treatment without the need for the operator to touch the patient's private areas. These in turn gave way to electrical devices which a woman could use in the privacy of her own home. But only if that home had electricity. As a modern technology journal might put it, the Wife Acceptance Factor of electrification was unexpectedly high.

Realizing the potential, the electricity companies quickly formed alliances with the doctors offering pelvic paroxysms, paying a commission for each patient who electrified their house. Advertising literature put massage attachments for the 'home motor' front and center.

Everything and nothing has changed, thought Anna as she looked ruefully at the Hitachi Magic Wand on display at the end of the exhibit. She had the same model at home and since they had been married it had been responsible for at least nine out of ten of her orgasms.

Peter was so kind and so thoughtful in so many other ways, but lazy in bed. The idea of oral sex disgusted him unless he was the one receiving. His foreplay was perfunctory and lost interest the moment he ejaculated. He rejected even the idea of trying something new: He might not like it.

Anna understood Mike was willing to give her the good, forceful banging she desperately needed if she said the word. But the idea of Peter or Mike's wife returning to collect a forgotten laptop and catching them in the act did not appeal. Nor did the idea of a public copulation in a seedy sex club with the lights turned low to hide the peeling paint and torn wallpaper.

As they left the museum, Mike handed Anna his business card with his email address on it.

"In case you change your mind," he said.

"You never asked," Anna responded, "What makes you think you're the one."

"Cheaters should always cheat with cheaters," Mike argued, "we both want the same thing."

"You presume a lot", Anna responded, "I could go to that club you told me about and have any man I like."

"Fine, just do me a favor," Mike replied, "Take me along with you. Once we are in, you can pick anyone you like and I can pick anyone I like. We can split the cab fare."

"You are very persuasive," Anna laughed, "but no."

From the outside, the club presented itself as a health and fitness center. A large sign announced 'Members Only' in English, German and Czech in that order. Inside, the hostess introduced herself by name and asked Mike who they were here to visit. Evidently, Mike gave her the right password as she took their hats and coats and Anna's rainbow scarf and ushered them into the cloakroom to begin their tour and be told the club rules.

After too many years of business travel, Anna could tell the state of a hotel's rooms and the quality of its service from the furnishings in the lobby. The changing room was freshly painted and brightly lit. There was nothing that would be out of place in the lobby of an upscale hotel, the fittings were finished in hardwoods, granite and slate. It was clearly the work of a professional interior designer working for a knowledgeable client. There was no peeling paint or torn wallpaper anywhere to be seen.

Beyond the lobby were a bar, a hot tub room (that the club optimistically called a 'pool'), a massage nook and three 'encounter rooms'. The first of these was simply a bedroom divided into two by a screen with holes of various sizes cut into it at a certain height that the hostess called a 'French wall'. The second room was filled by an enormous bed made from four or five king size mattresses placed together. And the gothic room was painted black with stainless steel fastening eyelets (for handcuffs? rope?) mounted in the floor, ceiling and walls at irregular intervals.

It was still early in the club's day and most of the dozen or so guests were drinking in the bar or relaxing in the pool. Only one of the encounter rooms was in use. Two naked couples were engaged in side by side 69's on the larger of the two beds. Both women were on top facing away from the door so that the first thing Anna saw as she entered the room were their asses hovering over the men's faces.

At the end of the tour, Mike turned to Anna and looked her straight in the eye, "Anna, Are we staying?"

"It's so normal," Anna replied. Then suddenly realizing this might sound rude apologized to the hostess.

"Sex is normal," the hostess smiled. "Having sex is normal, talking about sex is normal, watching people have sex is normal, being watched is normal. It is the rest of the world that is crazy."

Taking Anna's answer to mean yes, Mike handed the hostess his entrance fee.

"And?" Anna asked.

"We do what we came for: Fuck," Mike responded, "You are young and very pretty and I am sure that you can have any man here that you choose. And if you don't see anyone you like here now, we can go to the bar and wait till its office closing time and couples start dropping in on their way home from work. Or."

"Or?" Anna queried.

"I want you," Mike replied, "You are hot. I want to fuck you."

Mike's kiss, literally swept Anna off her feet and into his arms. It was all wrong. Anna was married, her body was pledged to her husband. Mike was married, Anna had eaten breakfast with his wife only that morning. Mike was married, Anna was married but Mike's lips were touching Anna's and his arms were pressing their bodies together tight and his hands were on her breasts and on her hips and she was grinding herself against his thigh.

"I thought you'd never ask," Anna replied.

The club had no set dress code but almost all the other members were nude or nearly so. Feeling overdressed, Anna stripped to her panties and looked at herself in the mirror. She might not be every man's idea of a ten but most would rate her a nine at least.

Anna carefully removed her earrings, her watch and looked at herself in the mirror again. All she had left was her panties and her wedding ring. Was she sure she wanted this? She loved Peter and she was sure he loved her. But how long could she love a man when she desperately needed a good fuck? Mike was right: Anna didn't just want this, she needed this. Taking a deep breath, Anna kicked off her last piece of clothing. She began to remove her wedding ring as well, then thought better of it. Though the ring might remind her she was cheating, it would also remind her why she needed to.

The changing room had showers but Anna took Mike's hand and led him straight to the encounter rooms.

By this time, the gothic room was occupied by an older couple who were obviously looking for a different vibe to the one Anna was seeking. Mike suggested going to the unoccupied room with the enormous bed. But it had taken Anna the whole morning to come to terms with the idea of being watched. Better to be watched from start to finish than be discovered.

In the French screen room, the quartet had swapped partners. Now, the women lay on their backs kissing each other while the men's tongues were at work between their legs..

Mike was already hard, Anna was already wet. They had already kissed. In the changing room, Mike's hands had already explored her body as his cock pressed hard against her naked belly. Mike's fingers had touched her inner thighs and felt all the places she had made smooth for him. Now that they were in the bed, Anna spread her legs to let Mike's cock seal the deal. But this wasn't his plan. Mike started again at the beginning kissing her lips, cupping her breasts, sucking her nipples.

On the other side of the screen, the women lay on their sides facing each other head to tail while the men slowly fucked them from behind

Anna wrapped her hands round Mike's cock. He was the same length as Peter's but wider and uncut. Mike immediately signalled his approval with a sigh that turned into a low moan as Anna's lips covered the tip of his cock.

"Let me taste you," Mike demanded and just like that, a man who she barely knew was licking her pussy.

Mike used his fingers and tongue in ways Anna had never imagined would give her pleasure. It was filthy, it was disgusting but in that moment it was so right. All Anna could do was to surrender herself, her body to her lover as he worked his magic between her thighs.

At last, Anna's back arched, her arms and legs pushed hard against the bed as she screamed, "F-U-U-C-K," at the top of her voice. She screamed a second time and a third but less loudly and then at last she gave out a long low moan as Mike's thickness finally filled her pussy.

Mike let Anna get used to his girth inside her for a while as the last echos of her orgasm subsided. She was a proper adulteress now but Anna felt neither shame nor regret, only a profound feeling of completeness.

Freed of the need to chase her own orgasm before Peter came, Anna was able to concentrate on the sensation of the sex itself; every movement of his cock as it slid in and out of her belly, his breath on her face, the way his chest hairs brushed against her nipples as he moved.

One of the women on the other bed came loudly turning Mike and Anna's heads to turn. Mike smiled as if in apology but Anna thought it as good an excuse as any to change position.

"Cowgirl," Anna ordered. Mike moved into position without hesitation. Perhaps this was all there was to it, Anna though, maybe the only secret to getting the sex she wanted was knowing what she wanted and asking for it.

Anna rode Mike hard as the other couples watched. One of the men played with his partners pussy, stroking her in time to Anna's thrusts. A tall, powerfully built man with impressive biceps, he was easily half a meter taller than his partner. A short time later, Mike's cock jerked its load into Anna. For better or worse, the deed was complete.

Anna and Mike cuddled for a while before making their way back to the changing room. The club wouldn't close for hours but Anna wanted time to herself, time to process what had just happened: It was time to shower, get dressed and return to the hotel.

But the evening rush had begun and there was a queue for the showers. As Anna waited with Mike, the giant's wife, Eva introduced herself Anna and made small talk. Had they been to the club before? Where was she from? What was she interested in?

Mike said little but the way he looked at Eva and the way she looked back made their interest obvious. Should Anna stay for Mike's sake? For Eva's even? She had enjoyed watching Eva's small frame being pounded by the giant. Perhaps she would enjoy watching her being pounded by Mike or by both men at once.

Anna realised the choice she faced. If she returned to the hotel now, life would return to its old routine (but with the occasional adulterous side-fuck with Mike to break the monotony). She could return to the map and be safe but bored or she could throw the map away and lose herself in an adventure. Perhaps if Anna learned to ask for what she wanted in bed, she would be able to ask Peter and Peter might give it to her.

Anna looked at Eva again. She could scarcely be more different from Anna. Eva's hair was jet black and cut short, Anna's was blonde and braided. Anna was taller and thin. Eva had curves and tattoos. The giant was as different from Mike as Mike was different from Peter. Life is short enough, why limit herself to only fucking the same person the same way?

Suddenly, the choice was clear: If Anna gave up this chance to try new experiences, she might never have another. Trying something and finding out she didn't like it was not the worst thing that could happen to her.

The choice was clear, now to put thoughts into deeds. A meaningful glance led to a kiss and a naked embrace: Anna's guess had been correct!

"I want you," Anna said to Eva, "You are hot. I want to fuck you."

As promised, Mike got Anna back to the hotel before Peter returned. She was tired and sore after being used by so many different bodies but she knew she had to put her plan to save their marriage into action that night or she might never.

Just as she had done that morning, Anna took a warm bath and carefully shaved her legs. This time, she did not put her hair back in its braids.

Then she lay down at the center of the bed, her legs parted to allow Peter a full view of her freshly shaven sex and arranged her hair carefully on her pillow.

By the time Peter arrived, Anna had rehearsed her argument countless times in her head. He would be shocked of course but would he agree. As she expected, Peter expressed his surprise and considerable pleasure at finding her prepared like this but Anna said nothing in response until Peter was naked.

"I've been horny all day," Anna began, "do you want to know what made me horny?"