Alison searches for closure
It had taken Alison a couple of days to recover from the emotional confrontation with the photos Greg had taken before she could again discuss the threesome experience with him. Some of the truth of her dilemma emerged when he - cautiously - suggested that a second try might clear things up in her mind. The first time of anything can be distorted by nervousness, he said. You have to make your mistakes the first time to get it right the next time.
Alison had her doubts. "You know Greg, the more I think about it the less my fantasy had to do with a threesome. It had to do with two of you, and not a physical experience with interchangeable bodies."
"But," Gregory raised his brows for emphasis. "But you did enjoy it, once you found a balance."
"OK, I'll grant you that," she admitted. "The physical part, it was more intense than I expected. But I needed to keep contact with you to keep my emotions under control. It doesn't feel like something I want to repeat."
"Ah-ha, I get it. What you're really saying is that for you to get the most out of a threesome I can't be involved."
"That's not true!" and she gave him a playful slap across the cheek. "That would be absurd, going from a fantasy with two of you to a reality where you weren't there at all."
Alison concluded that the threesome idea wasn't worth pursuing. In the following days she drifted through her daily life, at work, at the gym, meeting other friends, her part-time studies, a few evenings and nights each week at Greg's apartment. She found relief and a sense of calm in his company, going to a movie or restaurant together, having their long philosophical discussions about anything and everything, or simply sharing a bed at night and waking the next morning to have breakfast together and coordinate their plans for the next several days.
And yet, something lingered. Her thoughts shifted from the general idea of a threesome to a more specific 'what if'? What if she hadn't panicked? What if she had let whatever it was that had been developing continue to its natural conclusion? During evenings on her own in her apartment, she stretched out on her couch and stared at a TV screen, thinking about what it was that she had withdrawn from. She believed she had given the whole story to Greg, especially the important part about being overwhelmed by the intense arousal she felt. A caged physical desire. If she had only stayed in the situation, what would have happened? She tried to imagine it, sometimes while absently rubbing herself through her panties, not enough to get aroused, but enough to placate the sense of unease.
One night while lying in bed she did go further. She held that sense of urgency in her thoughts, that hunger in his eyes, imagined herself under him, taking him in. She stayed close to the image, and rubbed and fingered herself to an orgasm. Then she lay back on her bed, regaining her breath, and wondered what she was pursuing.
What Greg had said about seeing faces in clouds, that was true. She did start making connections that weren't there, especially the connections related to emotions reserved for Greg that had infiltrated her experience. Yet one fact remained. However true it was that she had been seeing faces in a cloud, the cloud was still there. The pieces of what had really happened were still there. She didn't know what they were. It bothered and fascinated her, and left her with a hollowness inside, that there was something unresolved, unfinished.
She felt paralyzed by the uncertainty. She would sit on her couch in the evening, her arms hugging her legs to her chest, a cheek resting against her knees while staring without attention at the TV. Her stomach would knot, how much from anxiety and how much from a vague longing, she couldn't say. A bit of everything, she concluded with a discouraged shake of her head. The secret that her fearful withdrawal had hidden from her would not come out. She only knew that she ached to discover what it was.
And then, one afternoon, reality intervened to resolve her indecisiveness. Her mobile phone chimed an incoming call.
"Yes?"
"Hello. Is this Alison?"
"Yes."
"Hi. This is Tom."
"Who?"
"Tom." Pause. "You know .. we .. um .. had a get together a while ago?"
"Oh, Tom. I'm sorry. Of course. I .. I just don't know anyone named Tom .. I mean, I couldn't immediately place the name."
"That's OK. So how are you?"
"Fine, life moving along. How are you?"
"Good .. good. I thought I'd give you a call and ask .. I was wondering if you'd want to meet for a chat sometime, have a coffee somewhere."
"You want to meet? Is there anything on your mind?"
"No. I mean, no issues. I've just been thinking about the evening. We didn't have a chance to talk about it. I was wondering what you thought about it."
"I .. uh .. I don't know."
"Look, if you're feeling embarrassed about it, I understand. It wasn't an evening playing Monopoly. If it's something you want to forget about..."
"No, not monopoly," she giggled nervously. "But, no, it's not something I want to forget about. It feels awkward, that's all. I've already spent enough time talking it over with my .. with Greg. I guess it's only fair that you want to talk about it too. It might do me some good."
"Great. How about some time next week?"
He mentioned a coffee shop she recognized, near the university campus. But, next week? She had to get this done. The waiting would drive her crazy. "The place is OK. But can we meet sooner, in the next couple of days? I'm going to be pretty busy next week."
"Sure, that's good. Tomorrow? Wednesday? 3 o'clock?"
