I was trying my best to just flow with it, not think too much. I always think too much. Feel, just feel. Breathe, that's the key thing. Be sure to keep breathing. In and out. Nice and easy and smooth. I could get through this.
And don't look! I couldn't look. I will soon, I promised myself. But not yet. Breathe.
I stood in our bedroom. My back to our bed. Eyes closed even though I'd just turned off the lights. Trying to keep myself under some kind of control as my husband caressed my shoulders, my arms, that sensitive spot right at the back of my neck, right where the spine ends, that he knew I loved so much. His touch was light, sensual. And moving very slowly, that's not usual for him. Once he gets going, he likes to go.
He's trying to help, I suddenly thought. Trying to help me relax. That's sweet.
He traced a finger across my shoulder, up my neck, under my chin. His other hand at the small of my back ever so gently pulling me into him as he lifted me to tiptoes, bringing my lips up to his. I wrapped him in my arms, trying to match soft with soft. A gentle, soothing, lingering kiss and I tried a little harder to not think so damn much.
After all, thinking is what got me into this mess.
Another tiny little kiss, this time right on the tip of my nose, brought a smile to my lips. Then one on my forehead as his hand allowed my chin down. I tilted a little and he pressed his nose into my hair, he loves the smell of my hair.
He lifted and kissed me again, still light, but this time I felt his tongue pressing. I opened a little, allowing him into me, tasting him. Familiar, comfortable. Our arms up and around each other's shoulders. He wrapped me, still soft, pulling me toward him.
Usually I just loved all of this. And it still felt good. But tonight was different. I desperately tried to concentrate only on his touch, to feel just that, and not to think about the girl sitting across our bedroom, watching us.
*
We'd talked about this for a long time. Sharing our bed with another woman. Since before we were even married. Just joking around, I had always thought. Some sexy pillow talk, cuddling together in the darkness. Something spicy to get him hot. Or hot again. For me, I had always thought.
*
I stood absolutely still, not daring to move. Eyes still closed as his hands worked the buttons on my blouse, one by one, from neck to navel. He slipped it off and let it flutter away.
He reached around and unhooked my bra. I should have done that, I thought, he always fumbles with the clasp. But not this time, he got it on the first try. A good omen? He pulled straps from my shoulders, leaned back, and then lifted satin cups from my suddenly bare breasts. I felt my nipples harden in the cool night air. It's mostly the cold, I thought. But maybe not. Don't think, I reminded myself again. I can get through this. Somehow. Then back to normal, it's just one night in the thousands we've been married, will be married.
The bra slipped down my arms. In the utter stillness of our bedroom I could hear it land on the floor. He reached up to tickle first one, then the other. He always went left, right, left, right. He reached around me again but this time lower, much lower. Hands on my bottom, he pressed softly. Not lifting. Just suggesting. Encouraging. I rose to tiptoe again, my first voluntary movement. I knew what he wanted. Don't think, I reminded myself again. After all, I'd agreed to this, long ago. Even asked for it. I'll know when it's OK to look, but not yet. Breathe.
I heard quiet giggling from across the room. I pushed it away, don't think, don't imagine. Just feel.
My husband had undressed me, seen me undressed, naked, many times of course. She never had. I wondered if she was judging me. How I looked compared with the other women. The other women she had slept with. Fucked.
*
God she was young. And gorgeous. And very modern. She had said "Yeah, I love to fuck girls," as though it was the most natural thing in the world.
Nicole. We'd known her for years, ever since we bought a home just a few doors down from her parent's house. On the first Saturday of every month, we usually picked her up, drove over to some friends, and she babysat their kids while we went out for the afternoon. Played tennis, biked, saw a movie. Then we drove her back.
She had blossomed slowly before our eyes. From a gawky teenaged girl in braces, acne and huge sweaters to a stunning young woman about to leave for college. Today had been her last day babysitting, tonight our last trip taking her home.
I could never, ever do something like this with a stranger. Some anonymous woman we met in a bar, at the mall, found on CraigsList. All of the different ways we'd talked about finding someone to share. And of course, a friend would be much, much worse. Someone I'd have to face the next day if it turned into a disaster.
So I thought I was safe. That it was safe to fantasize along with him, even tease him. About sharing. And being shared. Playing along with the game. Pointing out women on the street, in restaurants or the supermarket. Whispering into his ear later that night about how their bodies would look naked, how their lips would feel wrapped around his erection, how loud they would squeal orgasming to my touch. That kind of thing. And then watch him get hard for me with quiet satisfaction. Because I'd thought it over very carefully and I couldn't imagine how it would ever possibly be 'just right' enough.
We hadn't talked about Nicole this way at all. She was way too young, the thought of her simply hadn't entered our minds. But tonight, almost as soon as the car door closed, she just came right out and said it. "Boy, I'd sure love to do you guys before I leave."
*
Hot mouth on my nipples. He sucked me in, jaw wide and twirling his tongue around. I moaned, long and low. Even nervous, I'm very sensitive there as he knows so damned well. That always gets to me. I ran my hands through his hair, then held his head, guiding him, and felt the button of my jeans pop. Then the zipper. The bed was right behind me. He simply pressed my hips, I sat back and down, then onto elbows with my bottom just at the edge. Our bedroom was familiar territory, this was a familiar ritual, I didn't need my eyes. He lifted my legs straight up and tugged, I wiggled, and suddenly I was in just my panties.
She giggled a little again. I was in our bed, practically naked, no place to run, it was going to happen. And suddenly I just had to look. I opened my eyes at last and turned to see her reaching out to pick my bra up from the floor, admire it, then smile at me. "Rockin' undies," I think she whispered quietly.
I had no idea what to say to that except a quiet 'Thank you."
Her eyes flicked to him. Still smiling, though not nearly as sweet as to me. More like... hungry.
He undressed quickly, tossing his clothes on top of mine. Once free of his boxers, his erection passed through halfway-hard and stiffened before our eyes. Hers and mine.
I watched her watch him. Yes, definitely hungry.
*
