"Are you going to book the tickets" she replied through email. He had sent her a link, Subject Line: Rope-Fun NSFW. The body cryptically said: "I think this might be interesting..." a link was provided and when she surreptitiously clicked it, she discovered that he was suggesting a live bondage stage show.
The image and the thought of attended it excited her. A few weeks back, she had been hesitant to mention a secret fantasy she had when he had prompted her. It was only because of the years of trust and love that in a moment of weakness and trust, she revealed to him one of her fantasies. What would he think of her? She had wondered as the words slipped out of her mouth. Would he find her disgusting and perverted? That seemed hardly the case as over the last few years he had led her down a path of lust, passion and looking back at it now, perversion. She had remembered the day he had shared his deep fantasy. It took a lot of courage for him to do that, just like she had just done.
Their marriage had grown stale and truth be told, they were more roommates than husband and wife most times. She had almost given up hope when he sat behind her in bed one night and wrapped his long arms around her. Embraced and in his grasp, with shaky voice, he voiced what they both knew:
What they had was not working.
He was tired of how they had drifted apart and more importantly, how he was not being true to himself. Everything he said rang true, deep within her. Things needed to change, or else she could easily see them divorcing.
She hoped that he would take her confessed fantasy as well as she did, with an open mind and a hint of excitement.
"I want to watch other people have sex...live..." she said the last part softly; barely a whisper and he asked her to repeat it. When she did, he smiled and held her to him. It was a warm smile and he thanked her for sharing with him her fantasy. He wasn't disgusted with her, he was excited!
They spoke for a little while and he asked gentle, clarifying questions. The matter was dropped and she had felt good about the conversation. He hadn't judged. He still accepted her as a person, partner, and wife. He accepted her as a woman that night as well, as both of them were unusually quiet while making love. Both were wrapped up in their thoughts and fantasies. Back to the present, in front of her glowing computer screen she hurriedly typed in a reply: "can we get tickets?" After she had hit send, she felt the finality of the situation. She had committed to who knows what. Sure she could always call him and cancel, but that would be chickening out.
"I got the tickets," he said when he picked her up from work. Her stomach dropped a little in fear.
"Oh?" she replied. That should keep him talking for a few minutes while she regained her composure. He explained about getting her email and immediately purchasing the tickets, before she had a chance to wimp out. She had nodded at that, her throat dry from fear, or excitement? It was an industrial part of town. They passed warehouse, after warehouse, traveling the streets as the sun slowly descended past the hills. There was an orange glow that reflected off the large walls of broken windows, as they circled the block and spotted a small crowd of people waiting outside the address that had been given them after the tickets had been purchased. It was all so secretive!
Parking, they made their way to the address. There was a bite of cold in the air, rare in most places during the summer, but in San Francisco, all too common. They made eye contact with a number of people hovering around on the sidewalk, and glanced up at the building address. "2594" it read, not "2592".
Puzzled, Michael looked to the next building. Its sign had "2590" on it. He turned to his wife Christina and shrugged. "Well, everyone else is waiting, so we must be in the right place..."
They waited, hugging each other for protection from the cold and the weird people that stumbled along the streets in this area. Not as bad as downtown, there was no stench of human urine permeating from the streets, but as they looked closer to the group of people waiting, there seemed to be a disconnect. Most of the group didn't seem to be the type to go to something like this.
A few minutes later a truck pulled up and the guy jumping out was apparently the guest of honor as the group embraced him. Moving towards 2594's locked gate, they promptly unlocked it and started carrying party supplies in. A club meeting was what Michael and Christina overheard them say. Looking at each other, they turned their attention back to the other building.
It was an auto-body shop, the large address numbers in black clearly read 2590. Scanning the building, Michael found a small door, matching the plain tan color of the building walls. Scrawled out in what looked like a black Sharpie magic marker were the numbers: 2592.
He checked the door handle to find it unlocked. Opening the door, he was greeted by a middle aged man dressed in black with matching fedora. Wrapped around his waist, over his black "stage-crew" t-shirt was a small rope weave design. They were in the right place after all!
Michael breathed a sigh of relief when he gave the man his first name (first name only!) and he checked him and his "plus-1" off the list. It was going to be a few minutes so they had to wait outside until everything was ready.
Outside, the club was starting up a barbeque on the sidewalk. Christina spotted a couple, a little older than them walk across the street and head in towards them. She noticed the purple long coat and fashionable beret the woman wore. Touching Michael on the arm she motioned to the approaching couple.
"They're here for the show," she confirmed with absolute certainty.
Sure enough the couple seemed to be about ten years older, but aside from their age, the two couples were very similar. Both upper-middle class, childfree, good looking, and all four wore a gleam of adventure in their gazes.
"Here for the show?" Michael asked the couple. The woman, quite pretty had appraised the crowd working the grill beside them and there was a startled look to her eyes. Michael, as Christina had noticed many times before, took charge and soothed her fears.
"Don't worry, the little club next door is having a party. We're waiting to be let in over here."
He nodded his attention to the small, barely noticeable door that read 2592. This was of course part of the adventure of going underground! Christina was having fun as she kept trying to guess which pedestrians walking by were meant to join them for the show, and which were either passing by, or headed towards the club party next door.
