It’s 3:00 in the afternoon, and one again I find myself in this restaurant bar. I’m not drinking, well not alcohol anyway. I would love a beer, but figured the responsible thing to do is settle for tea. Not only am I going to have to drive home in a little while, but I also tend to loosen up when I drink and run my mouth about my problems…problems are like assholes, everyone’s got them but nobody what’s to know about it. Besides, I loved flavored teas and, given the amount I often consumed, I had learned to just order it by the pitcher.
I had been to this place a couple of months ago on a client lunch and thought it looked like a comfortable environment. The waitresses were cute and friendly and when I ate, the food was good. So, as a result, I’ve been spending my late afternoons here more and more lately because I can, I work a sales job and I’m usually wrapping up by now anyway. And sometimes I just want to sit by myself and think, reflect on the day or what’s coming up within the next day or two. Hell, I just want a little me time sometimes.
I liked sitting in this particular booth; it was against the wall and elevated above the rest of the floor tables where I had a good view of most things and people around me. My wife always called me insecure when I sat with my back to the wall; truth is I just didn’t want her knowing at whom or what I was looking. Not that having her sit with her back to everything or everyone was really helpful, she always knew what I was doing and I ended with bruised shins after dinner anyway. ‘Oh hell, my wife,’ I thought as I sat there turning the ring on my finger. I had pissed my wife off again and, as I jokingly told my co-workers, it was going to be 4 months before she talked to me again, 5 months before we would even sleep in the same room and 6 months before we had sex again. On top of that, everything I do seems to pissed her off anymore, so she was constantly mad at me about something or another and has been for nearly two and a half years. Half of the time I didn’t really know why or what about, I’ve just come to accept it. I would laugh if it weren’t so true.
So anyway – I used my time here to work on a personal project over the last few days, developing a story that I had wanted to write for sometime. It wasn’t so much a story as it was a fantasy, one that I knew would probably never happen. So writing this story was my way of bringing it to life, allowing me to live it over and over without memorizing every detail. But today was different. I was a bit worried because I couldn’t find the memory stick I used to save the story. I was afraid that my wife had found it and taken it out of my bag. What worried me more than just the story was what all I had saved on it; there was more – much more. Ever since my wife had begun holding out on me several years ago, I had posted profiles on several sex-search sites hoping to find someone who just wanted to fuck, with no strings attached. That proved to be more difficult than I had originally thought it would be. It had been two years just looking at other women’s profiles and getting a few messages here and there (sending as many as I could) without any success. I considered paying for a higher level of access to the sites, but at this point I had begun to give up on the search. I had still held out hope, even set up a yahoo account with the same user names hoping someone would just email me after they saw my profile. On that memory stick is where I had saved my profiles with my passwords and messages, sent and received, for future reference. Also on the now missing memory stick were many of my personal ‘fetish’ pictures, a couple of erotic stories – one finished and the previously mentioned one, and I even had a forum that I used to write down my thoughts, ideas and sexual frustrations. She, my wife, had found the porn I had stored on a similar disk before and it turned into a big deal that she almost left me over. She said I was ‘an addict, and very sick,’ and that I needed help. Not long after that, while trying to repair our relationship and after she wanted me to be ‘honest about everything,’ I made another almost fatal mistake. I had admitted to her that I was attracted to a woman I had worked with several years ago, but nothing ever happened with her. Of course she didn’t believe me and that time it had been 8 months before she even looked at me, much longer before she talked to me. Needless to say, it’s been a very long time since I’ve had sex and, at this point, it is constantly on my mind. Staring at the glass and pitcher of tea that sat on the table as the sweat beaded up and rolled down the sides, I wondered what storm lay ahead and how much longer it would be before I got lucky again.
“It’s not going to get any colder, you know,” came a sweet and friendly voice from somewhere just outside of my thoughts. I snapped back to reality and looked up to see the bar tender smiling at me from across the isle. Through our brief conversations the past few weeks, I had learned her name was Kelly. She was a gorgeous girl in maybe her late twenties, about 5 and a half-foot tall, in great shape and had short brown hair. She probably weighed all of 130 lbs, not to skinny like some women, and had some of the nicest breasts to compliment her figure. She had the cutest face with small dimples where she smiled and the most beautiful hazel green eyes. She was a far cry from the tall, thin blue-eyed blonde I was generally attracted to, but I could get lost in just looking at her nonetheless, and had a couple of time when she caught me staring. I wasn’t the type of guy to pick up chicks and hit on waitresses or bartenders endlessly, I did like to look though, and maybe even be a bit flirtatious sometimes – a flaw of mine according to my wife. I always blew it off and told her I was just being nice and courteous, but if she only knew… which she probably did.
“Is there something wrong with it?” she asked when I didn’t respond to her.
“No, nothing at all. But my next drink may need to be somewhat stronger.” I replied. She laughed and grabbed a bottle with a clear liquid and a clean glass as she walked from around the counter toward my table.
“Here, try it with some of this,” she said as she stepped up onto the wooden platform to pour. “But careful – it has quite a kick.” As she leaned over the table I couldn’t help but notice, as I had several times before, how beautiful she really was. From her slender neck and well-defined facial structure to her chest and medium sized breasts. With the v-cut shirt she wore, I could clearly see how round and full they were, suspended and corralled only by her bra. I must have been staring again because she stretched out her arm and lifted my chin with the tip of her finger until our eyes meet. She was smiling, giving me that I caught you look and, being slightly embarrassed at being caught, I emitted a soft laugh and shook my head. She too laughed it off as she picked up my spoon and stirred my drink. “Try it, let me know what you think.”
I took a drink and was hit with the alcohol content immediately. It didn’t particularly mix well with the flavored tea, but it did have a kick.
“Damn Kelly, that hurts.” I said taking another short drink to ease the pain. We both laughed as she offered to get me something else as she slid into the seat across from me. Obviously she had no real intention of getting me anything else.
I shook my head no and replied, “It’s just what I need.”
“No work to do today?” she asked motioning to my computer bag as I poured her a glass of tea.
“Not today,” I said shaking my head. “I have other things on my mind. It was more of a personal project anyway.” I said.
“Oh? What’s on your mind?” she asked.
“You don’t want to know, it’s incredibly boring. Besides, won’t you to get into trouble sitting here?” I asked in return.
She gestured around her at the empty place and asked, “Why would I? But if your not comfortable talking to me, I can go…” she said partially standing.
“No, please stay. I would absolutely love your company. But please allow me to spare you the boring details. I am after all, just thinking of you…” I said with a smile and slightly raised eyebrow.
“How sweet of you to think of me,” she said sitting back down. “So, you’ve been coming here for a couple weeks now, what’s your story?” We sat there for the next half hour talking, the conversation revolved around the usual; tell me about what you do, is it fun and rewarding, so on and so forth. It was obvious what she did for a living, so we talked about her future plans, children, did she have a boyfriend, the normal things I had assumed a woman would like to talk about. Turns out she had broken up with her boyfriend a few months ago because he wanted her to give up some other commitments she had. He was very jealous and possessive and she even had some problems with him still coming around after they broke up, but that it seemed he had finally given up.
“Your married…” she said gesturing to the ring on my finger. Funny she didn’t say it in question form, but more like a matter of fact statement. She left her “statement” open for me to elaborate, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to. The truth was that the only reason I still wore it was because I had heard the women were attracted to men who wore rings. I was ‘open’ to an extramarital affair, but I hadn’t actively pursued anything.
“Yes I am, but it’s kind of complicated and a bit of a touchy subject.” I replied.
“It always is,” she answered. “Is that what’s on your mind?” she asked.
“Partially,” I admitted. As we talked, I was careful not to reveal some of the depths of certain issues involved and frighten the poor girl. I didn’t know how society would judge me on the subjects of porn, fantasies and fetishes if my wife had reacted so harshly, so I decided not to take the chance. Hell, I could hardly believe I was even talking to her in the first place, I just hoped I wouldn’t say or do anything for her to think of me as a freak. It was totally out of the norm for me to be talking to anyone about such issues, much less to be doing so with a beautiful woman.
Before I knew it, an hour had passed and it wasn’t long thereafter that she had a few more customers and had to go. I really enjoyed taking to her about everything and nothing in particular, we really seemed to have hit it off and we were getting along well. I sat there wondering if I would ever have a chance with a woman like her. I decided that I should wait it out and see what, if anything, could happen. Would she even go for a married man, that was the under lying question now. I motioned to the waitress that had joined Kelly in serving the ever-growing crowd to get my check. I didn’t want to go, but all good things must come to an end. I curious how much hell I would catch when I got home, assuming I still lived there, from my secret having been found out – again. I put a ten and a five on the table, a little extra tip for the company and conversation. I picked up my computer bag and made my way to the door, pausing for just a moment to see if Kelly would notice. She was busy filling orders and feeding the frenzy, but she managed to wave and give me a smile. I waved back, winked and was out the door, maybe there was hope yet.
The next morning was the same as usual, coffee; paper; shower; work. Basically just saw my wife in passing the night before and as usual she slept in the other room. She either hadn’t seen what was on the memory stick yet or she was waiting…but for what? I was determined not to let it hang over my day, so I went about things as usual. I turned on my computer and hit my receive button to get my email. The normal junk mail filled my box, but one in particular stood out. It was from someone named Kelly and didn’t look like the normal junk message. I was just a bit confused at first as I searched my memory to see if I knew a Kelly, then it dawned on me – the cute bar tender from yesterday. The message was entitled “I have your Palm Handheld.” I was a bit shocked as I reached into my bag to where I last left my Palm Pilot only to realize it wasn’t there. Obviously, or she wouldn’t have sent me a message telling me she had it. ‘Sometimes I am so stupid,’ I thought as I opened the email and read it.
You left your Palm Handheld at the restaurant last night. I found it and would like to return it to you. Meet me for lunch at the Loxley Inn Garden Room at 11:00 – my treat.
P.S. – Don’t be late. Kelly
“Curious…” I though out loud. I didn’t even remember taking my palm out of my bag at the restaurant; much less remember giving her my email address. So, she had my handheld, my email address and wanted to buy me lunch. I was extremely intrigued, so I decided to go. Not that it really was much of a choice; I would have been stupid if I didn’t. Hell, a beautiful girl inviting ME to lunch – at a hotel? This could be my chance.
“I’ll just wait and see if she sends me any signals. I just hoped I know what signals to look for…” I said out loud, talking to myself. I’m glad no one overheard my comments to myself; it would have been difficult to explain.
When I walked into the hotel, I couldn’t help but notice the classiness of the place. Huge ceilings greeted me with very elegant furniture in the lobby, very ornate pictures and wallpaper and a very large chandelier. Even the restroom had the most elegant of surroundings. Everything was clean and polished, as if waiting for someone important to notice. Before I exited the restroom, I stopped at the full-length mirror to make a few adjustments to my shirt and tie. A little vain to ‘prep’ myself perhaps, but I wanted to look my best, especially here. I walked across the tiled floor to the desk clerk to ask for directions. As the clerk directed, I walked down the hall and through double doors to a big open room, an atrium in itself really: with trees, a large water fountain and rooms lining the sides 5 stories up. The roof of this place had retractable awnings that were closed for the time being…good thing as it was the middle of summer. I stopped to look around for a minute before I saw a smaller covered area with tiled flooring; it looked much like a cabaña. It had everything you would expect to find on a beach, a bar; tables; bamboo roof, bamboo walls up to open windows/sides and even bamboo and wicker ceiling fans. Even the atmosphere seemed to have a beach feeling, complete with a humid but even temperature. My guess was that was the look they were going for. Sitting at a table in corner was a site for my sore eyes. Kelly was gorgeous, almost like she was from a dream. She stood when she saw me, waving to get my attention, not that she really needed to. She wore a short free flowing skirt with a matching top that stopped just above the top of her belly button, leaving her nice abs exposed and sporting an orchid flower in her hair. I had found out through our conversation the day before that her mother was Spanish and her father was Italian, so she had a ‘forever tan’, as she called it. In this moment, her beauty was unmatched by anything or anyone I had cast my eyes upon in a long time. I could feel an immediate erection as I walked toward her.
“Hi!” she said as she wrapped her arms around me and pulled me down to give me a quick peck on the cheek. “I’m so glad you came!”
“Well, I really didn’t have much of a choice. A beautiful woman inviting me to lunch,” I said pausing just long enough for her to receive the compliment. Then raising an eyebrow I added, “…Who just happened to have my Palm.”
She blushed as she sat back down, her skirt falling around her resting just above her thighs. I too sat as I took in her beauty. “About that…I have a little confession to make…” she started again.
“Oh, yeah?” I said picking up the water that was awaiting me and sitting back. “And what is that?” I asked with a smile as I took a drink anticipating her answer.
“You didn’t leave you Palm at the restaurant, I snuck it when you weren’t looking,” she replied with a smile.
“I had kind of figured that by now…” I wasn’t surprised.
“Are you disappointed?” she asked ever so innocently.
“Not at all,” I answered. “I hadn’t even missed it until I read you message. Besides, It bought me lunch with you, didn’t it?”
“Well, in that case – I have another confession.” She said as she stood again. My eyes widened and I had to laugh as two more beautiful women walked up to join us. One was much shorter than the other, about 5 foot tall, wearing tight fitting jeans and a t-shirt. The other was about the same height as Kelley if not a bit taller, blonde and wore a soft flowing summer dress and heels. Both had well toned bodies, something anyone could admire, and very attractive in their own right. I wasn’t sure how long they had been there; somehow Kelly had gotten me to sit with my back to the entrance, something I don’t normally do. Out of pure instinct I stood, not knowing what else to do and offered my hand.
“Thomas, this is Stephanie and Janelle,” said Kelly. “Their real good friends of mine.”
“A pleasure…” I said shaking their hands ever so delicately, like a woman’s hand should be.
“My, my, he is big guy,” said the one wearing jeans and t-shirt. “And handsome too.” She wore no bra and her shirt was a little tight, leaving an out line of her nipples and round breasts.
“And what a gentleman, standing for us.” Said the other. She was a bit more modest in her appearance, but not too much as her dress was cut to show a lot of cleavage. I stood there, and for the first time in a long time I was speechless. Lunch with three gorgeous women? What’s next god, a heart attack?
“Call me Tom,” I choked as we sat. My throat was dry and I quickly took a drink of water. “I didn’t see ya’ll come in,” I said motioning toward the door. “I’m not intruding on a girls lunch, am I?” I asked.
“Oh no, honey,” said Kelly. “And I invited you, remember?”
“Ya’ll?” said Stephanie giggling. She was the one wearing the summer dress. “How cute is that! You never said he was a Texan!” she said jabbing Kelly in the arm.
“Only in my heart and by choice, my dear.” I replied sitting back in my chair and relaxing a bit. “So, you’ve been talking about me, huh?” I asked playfully of Kelly. “Hope she said good things about me.”
“Oh yes, she did.” Said Janelle smiling and staring at Kelly. Kelly picked up her water, as she seemed to blush from Janelle’s response. Kelly seemed different to me, not in a bad way at all though. She seemed to play on her innocence a bit more than before; it was quite attractive in itself. We all made casual conversation as I recapped what Kelly and I had discussed the previous day, what they did, how they all meet and in the process found out that Janelle was an unlicensed psychologist. I also learned that the two, Janelle and Stephanie, lived together.
“We were roommates first, still are. But once we got to really know each other, we found we really enjoyed each others intimate company…if you know what I mean.” Said Stephanie with a smile
“She means we’re lovers – but we’re Bi also,” said Janelle proud of the fact. Hell, I was proud for them; I bet they made a beautiful site in bed.
“And non-exclusive, we like being with men too. Especially together.” added Stephanie while winking at Janelle.
“I bet there’s some great stories about the beginning of that…” I said intrigued and wanting more. Who wouldn’t, right?
“Oh yes, many of them,” said Janelle. “But we’re here to talk about you, Kelly has something that belongs to you.”
“I know, she already told me about having my Palm,” I said a bit disappointed I wasn’t going to hear more.
“But did she tell you everything?” asked Stephanie. That peeked my interest as I turned to look at Kelly.
“Kelly…” I asked, softly smiling. “Do you have yet another confession?” She reached beside her into her purse and pulled out the small book that held my Palm. She opened it and slid it across the table toward me.
I sat up and put my water down. “What’s this…?” I started then trailed off when I saw the Dell memory stick. “Oh Shit,” I said out loud. My stomach dropped and my heart was in my throat all of a sudden. This was the memory stick that contained all my ‘secret files’, if you will, that I thought I had lost or had been taken. I couldn’t breath, couldn’t even bring myself to tear my eyes away from the tiny file saver. My heart beat so hard that I could feel the pounding in my head. I looked up at the women that sat to either side and across from me; they were all smiling at my reaction. So many thoughts were running through my head at that moment. How did she get it? Had they seen what was on it? Had they read my story? What did they think of me? Do I look like a fool trying to play it cool all the while them knowing my secret?
“How…I mean where…oh hell.” I said choking on every word.
“I found it after you left a couple of days ago,” said Kelley.
“Did you…” I started but was again choked on my dry throat.
“…Look at it? Yes, we all did, ” said Janelle in a matter of fact voice. “And you have quite a bit of explaining to do, mister.”
I couldn’t tell if she was teasing me or if she was serious. I stared at the table in disbelief for what seemed to be hours, trying to figure out how to recover from this. I was in complete shock, I couldn’t move. I have never felt so completely exposed yet so very curious of what they thought or were thinking. It was obvious they had gone through some trouble to set this up and bring me here, but why?
My heart slowed and the pounding in my head began to subside as I managed, somehow, to regain my composure. “How bad is it?” I asked in a vulnerable voice.
“Not bad enough to run, but that all depends on you.” Said Janelle. She was a lively one, that’s for sure.
“Waiter,” I said beckoning with a gesture. “Could I get a bottle of your best wine with four glasses for the ladies and I?” It didn’t take long before he returned with a bottle of red wine and four crystal wine glasses.
“Well timed and excellent choice,” he said slapping me on the back with a smile. I can only guess that meant that he had overheard. I nodded my thanks and then, after taking our order, he retreated to a non-intruding distance, but still well within earshot. I would have done the same in his position.
“Well ladies,” I started as I stood to pour the wine. “I don’t know quite what to say, or where to begin.”
“Start with the pictures.” Said Janelle as I handed her a glass of wine.
“Yes, the pictures,” agreed Stephanie intentionally caressing my hand as I handed her a glass of wine. After making sure each had her glass, I sat to pour mine. A slow trickle filling the glass a quarter of the way, all that was left.
“Oh god…” I muttered, both at what was left and not knowing where to start. Sitting back in my chair I placed my head in my hand, slightly shaking it from side to side.
“Don’t sweat it,” said Kelly using a knife to cut the bread the waiter brought us. “None of us would be here if it freaked us out.” Her calmness and coolness to this subject surprised me.
“Okay,” I said taking a drink of what wine I had. I held the bottle up midway in the air signaling the waiter for more. ‘I sure could use some cool confidence it provided,’ I thought.
“Well, if you haven’t guessed by now, I have a bit of a fetish. But first and foremost, I have a sever weakness for beautiful women, much like yourselves.” I said gesturing around the table.
“Smooth, isn’t he…” said Stephanie playfully biting her lip.
“And nice recovery,” added Kelley.
“Thank you,” I said in response. This situation didn’t seem to be going down the drain, which in itself was quite pleasing, but did in fact seem to have an airiness of acceptance and curiosity. “But let me be the first to warn you, the more you get to know me the more you’ll find that I’m just full of shit.” I said to lighten the mood.
“I dun no,” said Janelle. “You’re doing pretty good so far.”
I was still a little nervous and very confused, but I must admit that I was relishing this sort of confusion. The waiter returned with another opened bottle of wine. I thanked him and slipped him my Visa to start the tab, of which I would pay, not the ladies. I poured the wine this time filling my glass and resting the bottle in the bucket of ice afterwards.
“Please go on, I’m dying to hear more.” Said Kelly. She seemed to be very excited about something. Could it be that she was turned on by where this discussion was going? I think I’m going to enjoy this,’ I thought. But something told me not as much as they are currently enjoying it.
“Ok, the fetish I have is obvious if each of you saw the pictures there.” I said pointing to the memory stick. I was still trying to be modest enough to not speak in a manner that would make them think less of me, not being entirely sure if that was even possible at this point though.
“We all saw them,” started Stephanie.
“But we want you to say it and explain it,” finished Janelle. “We’re big girls, we can handle it. Go on,” she prodded.
Taking a deep breath and briefly looking around to make sure no one was around before I uttered “The Pussy. Especially the view from behind, when bent over.” I quickly looked at each ones face to gauge their reactions. Kelly squirmed a little in her seat with her stare trained on me. Stephanie’s eyes were closed and Janelle continued to sip her wine.
“That’s hot,” said Stephanie. The others shook their heads in agreement.
“What about that position or view do you find so appealing?” asked Kelly.
“Well,” I started searching for the most tactful way of saying it. “It is because the very essence of a woman is exposed. It is an extremely erotic area of a woman’s body that is, as it is all to often, neglected and not admired as such. But, while I do find just such a position erotic, it’s not just the position or view that I find appealing. It’s the beauty and mystery of what lies underneath a woman’s clothing. You see,” I paused as I reached to pick up my wine. “Every time I look at a beautiful woman, such as yourselves, I can’t help but wonder what you look like in the nude, and of course in the position is so reveling. The truth is, I like to admire the whole beauty of a woman, head to toe.”
“Did you ever consider that it might be disrespectful to view women in that manner?” asked Janelle.
“I have, yes. But,” I continued. “My intention is not to be disrespectful in anyway. It has, on the contrary, helped me to be more respectful and appreciative of a beautiful woman. And I also find a certain sexiness to just enough being left to the imagination.” I added. Not a flinch from anyone, in fact they seemed to be awaiting more. ‘Okay,’ I thought. ‘That wasn’t so bad.’
“Several months ago, I scoured the internet and several porn sites looking to fulfill my fascination with beautiful naked women. In doing so, I found my true fetishes, and these…” I said picking up the memory stick and popping off the top with my thumb, “… is all I have left.”
“I have to say I’m a little surprised to see you being so candid about all this,” said Janelle.
“Well, me too. But I have no greater secret that what is here,” I said looking at the memory stick. “And now, having been ‘exposed’ for lack of a better term, I do owe each of you an explanation – at the very least.”
“Okay, well then why is that all you have left?” asked Janelle.
“Because it was viewed as an addiction and the pictures were destroyed.” I replied
“An addiction? Why do you call it that?” asked Kelly. All this was exactly what I kept from telling her at the restaurant the day before.
“The real question is who called it an addiction first, you or your wife?” asked Janelle. I looked up and directly at Janelle. Damn it, she hit that nail right on the head. And hell, I didn’t want to bring up that I was married. Not that I could really avoid it, I bitched about my wife constantly in ‘my thoughts’ file that I’m sure they read. Too I still wore my ring. I had contemplated taking it off before I came, but Kelly and I had already discussed me being married, so there didn’t seem to be much of a point in doing so. I wasn’t going to avoid it; it was now a topic that had to be addressed unless I wanted to come across as being embarrassed about it. I was beginning to wonder if my chances of anything happening were slipping away. Well, even if it was, it had been a long time since I’ve had such a meaningful conversation as this, and I was enjoying it nonetheless.
“That’s it, isn’t it? She convinced you it was an addiction and for you to get rid of them, didn’t she?” asked Stephanie.
“Yes and no. She tried to convince me it was, but I never though of it as an addiction. Truth be told, I just accepted that she thought it was and I did my best to give it up, for her. She would have left me otherwise.” I answered.
“So, you just learned to suppress that desire to look at naked women?” asked Kelly. “Now that’s inner strength, and I admire that. But you really didn’t give it up, did you? You still have these,” said Kelly pointing to the stick.
“No, your right. I didn’t give it up completely; I just learned to hide it better around her. But yes, I have stopped letting it consume me and take up all my time.” I replied.
“Have you tried to share it with her?” asked Stephanie.
“I can’t,” I answered telling them of how she reacted when she found the other ones. “And that time, I didn’t have anything else on the disks but pictures. God only knows how she would have reacted if she found this one.” I said sharing the fear I had the day before with them.
“I for one do not see it as an addiction, I think it’s a natural male instinct AND I would want him to share it with me.” Said Janelle. That surprised me; I had no idea that someone could react like that. I had only seen how my wife and everyone else she told had reacted.
“Ladies,” I started pausing for just a second to take a drink of my wine. “I know I make her out to sound like a complete bitch. And at times, I will admit, she is. But on some level I do still care about her immensely, I must or else I would have left long ago.”
“We read how you felt about her in several different emotional states. But,” continued Kelly. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure, anything at this point.” I replied slightly chuckling.
“How long has it been since you’ve had sex with her?”
“Too long to remember…” I answered swirling around the red liquid in my glass.
“That long huh, why? Why won’t she have sex with you?” asked Kelly.
“I don’t know, I ask myself that question constantly. It even starts to play havoc with my own sanity at times. And every time I asked her, she says it’s not me – it’s her. The classic answer, right? She is slightly overweight and perhaps that has a little to do with it, but I don’t really know. To be honest, I’ve only seen her completely naked maybe twice in our ten-year marriage. I guess that she doesn’t want sex shouldn’t be all that surprising then, huh?”
“Wow, she has some issues.” Said Kelly.
“Yeah, and the truth is I gave up a long time ago trying to be intimate with her. She would just ‘lay there’ for me sometimes, but I craved the interaction and the passion that was suppose to come with it. So, I just gave up. I’m waiting for her to come to me, but I imagine I will be waiting for a long time.”
“It makes sense that you would turn to this then,” said Stephanie.
“Does it?” I asked. “I guess it is just my way of dealing with the hurt and rejection I felt.”
“It also reveals the extent of your issues too,” add Janelle.
“How so?” I asked. “Or what issues do you perceive?” I was interested in her opinion. Her being a physiologist, I though this would be interesting.
“Well, obviously you have several.” She said playfully. “But your most dominant being loyalty. Not many people would put up with such behavior from a mate for long, much less ten years.”
“Your right, I don’t believe many would. Loyalty has always been a quality I endured, but I find myself questioning this quality of mine. It hasn’t always been a good one in the past. But I also, more often than not, feel my loyalty shaking.”
“Is that why you have a profile on every sex search site out there?” asked Janelle.
“I highly doubt that I have one with everyone out there. And no, It wasn’t my original intention. I first thought that my wife didn’t want to be with me anymore because of my inexperience. We were married when I was 18 and she was 22. So I thought that maybe if I could find some more ‘experiences’, I could learn how to make her happy again. Then it turned into wanting to find someone to share my passion with, as it seemed I had no one. I was lonely and in need of someone to hold and share my desires with. Then it was a way to relieve some of the pressure off her and tension from me, thinking that would help. I even turned to Yahoo! Chat rooms to stave off my solitude. Not much luck there either and now, well …” I trailed off as I finished my wine, then continued. “I’m sorry ladies; my baggage is showing…talk about the stages of denial and acceptance, huh? Shall we move on?” I was all too happy and willing to do so.
“Is that why you started writing your stories, because you couldn’t find anyone to have sex with?” asked Janelle. Kelly almost choked on her wine and Stephanie bust out laughing.
“Damn, that’s harsh Janelle!” said Stephanie through her laughs. I had to smile at the frankness, but truthfulness of her comment.
“Again, yes and no. I had always like writing when I was younger, just not very good at it. I started writing again because I wanted to remember my ‘fantasies’, if you will,” I said. “Plus, I did have this one experience that I did not want to forget.”
“Oh yes, we read that one. It was Megan, right?” asked Kelly rhetorically.
“So, your not so Mr. Innocent after all, are you?” cooed Janelle.
“No, and I never claimed to be. All I ever claimed to be was passionate. I am, after all, but a man.”
“Tell us of that story,” said Stephanie. “Is a real experience?”
“Yes my dear, it is. Tell me though, as you read it, how did you feel? How did each of you feel?” I asked curiously.
“Hot,” answered Kelly closing her eyes, almost like she was reliving it.
“Yeah, I wished I was her,” offered Stephanie. That was unexpected, but welcomed.
“And you, Janelle?” I asked.
“The story was just a bunch of pretty words put together to make a story. You have quite an imagination, but I not sure it really happened.” She answered.
“Ahh, but it did happen, my dear. It took place long ago, and almost nothing but a distant memory now.” I rebutted. “And while I may have embellished some parts a little more so than what exactly happened, Megan was very real and so was our brief time together.”
“So why did you write it, so you could jack off to it every night?” Again, stifled and surprised laughs were heard from the girls, even I had to laugh a bit. “And if it really was a true story like you say, did you ever stop to think that she may not have wanted everyone to know what happened, or who she was?” asked Janelle argumentally.
“No,” I replied. “The thought never really did occur to me. But then again, this story wasn’t for everyone, just me. And yes, as hard as it may be to admit it to you three beautiful women, I have masturbated to it before. But not so much the story as the memory of being with her. But go on,” I encouraged. “I’m interested in what you have to say.”
“Okay. I don’t think how I or we,” she started as she motioned around the table, “felt when reading it really matters, unless you just want to boost your ego.” She answered. “The real question is how did it make you feel?”
“While I do get some pleasure from knowing that what I wrote moves people on an emotional, and perhaps even a physical level, I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”
“Oh, yes you do. Not many people talk, write or act like you do and are anymore. It takes character to be the gentleman that you are. It also takes a deep-seated desire to be passionate about anything, sexual or otherwise. So let me ask you again, how did you feel?”
I did know what she meant, and I even felt a little proud that my qualities hadn’t been wasted on someone who didn’t notice them. It wasn’t surprising, though, coming from someone who analyzed people. I rolled the wine around in my glass and contemplated what, or rather how to say it. It had been so long since I had been complimented, but this was the first time I had ever been called on, or exposed, as having a deeper root for my actions. With out moving my eyes from the deep red liquid that was my wine, I made my reply.
“First and foremost, Megan was a beautiful woman with whom I had the best experience of my life. And for however brief a time it was, she was mine.” With a tear in my eye, I looked up. Staring Janelle square in the eyes, I answered her question. “I continue to feel envious, jealous and even more so, I hate myself everyday for letting the memory of the experience we shared slowly slip away. I wish that I could do it again, commit to my memory every second of our time, every touch that I felt, every whisper of pleasure and every moan that slipped from her lips. Every time I close my eyes to try to relive the moment, I become envious of my own memory as I can only hope to ever experience anything like that again. Too, I become jealous of my imagination as I struggle to separate what actually happened and what I only wish had happened. For me, the experience wasn’t over at the end of our encounter, and some how I doubt it ever will be.”
I finished what wine was left in my glass and wiped the tear from my eye. I hadn’t meant to put so much feeling into that response, it left me feeling a little drained. I too saw how it affected each one of them. Janelle was smiling, shaking her head softly up and down. Stephanie had her eyes closed with her hand on her chest breathing deeply. Kelly was sitting with her head propped in her hand, her eyes trained on me.
“What is it that you want?” asked Janelle.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“What are you wanting to experience? What do you want from another woman? What is your ultimate desire?” she clarified.
Without hesitance, I told her. Unedited, unrehearsed and without remorse for how it sounded.
“I want to be with the woman of my dreams. That may or may not have been Megan, but I’m more than willing to keep trying to find out. I want to admire the beauty of a woman in the nude, and for her to let me, or better yet, want me too. I want to caress her skin, smell her essence and taste her sweetness. Much like I had wrote before, I want to explore her body through touch, watch as she pleases herself or as I please her. For me it is more than just wanting to have sex or get off. I am a visually and tactile oriented person who loves to give as much as I like to receive. I’m tired of the ‘get on and get it over with’ attitude. I want to feel the flame of a real passion, immerse myself and the one I’m with in ecstasy until there is no more want from either of us. I want to be a good, no – a better lover – for my own pleasure and for that of whom I am with. That, Janelle, is what I want.”
“That was amazing,” said Kelly taking a deep breath.
“I’ve never met anyone who was that passionate about anything. Wow.” Said Stephanie.
“I’m sorry ladies,” I began, standing and taking the bottle of wine. The waiter had so kindly opened a new bottle and delivered it, and to him I nodded with my thanks. “I do not intend to be this forthcoming or intense, it is something I cannot help at times.” As I moved to fill each ones empty glass, I was cut short of both my sentence and task by a voice from a darkened corner.
“Don’t be, it was what we, or rather I, was waiting for.” From the shadow in an unused part of the restaurant stepped a man wearing a suit. As he crossed the distance between he and I, he nodded to Janelle and Stephanie as he said, “Thank you ladies, you may be excused. Kelly, please stay.” When he reached me, he extended his hand and said “Thomas Ranes, welcome to The Tenth Agency.”