Erotic Potential

By nature, I am an introvert. That doesn't mean that I am unfriendly or uninterested in things going on around me. It does mean that I am more of an observer than a participant and a thinker/processor more than a mindless impulsive player in whatever was going on in the center stage. In short, I am not a major source of entertainment at parties and get-togethers; I am the guy sitting on the side watching and smiling while others are going overboard to impress the others. My wife on the other hand has an outgoing personality and can charge up an audience large or small with her charm and wit. I admire her talent to be able to do this but it isn't my style at all. But then that is perhaps why she is in sales management and I am in accounting.

My wife Lidia and I live in a medium sized suburban community of about 50 houses on half acre lots. The community has a clubhouse and pool at which the homeowners association hosts a monthly party or pot luck dinner which were both popular with the residents. As you might expect, my wife was a member of the entertainment committee while I chaired the cleanup and community appearance committee. The entertainment committee had fifteen members and usually had twelve or thirteen in attendance at their monthly meetings. My committee had twelve members and usually had three or four attend our monthly meetings. The saving grace was that I could bring a six pack or two and the three or four of us who showed up made sure that the meeting lasted until they were all in the recycle bin.

With my wife being one of the leaders of the entertainment committee, I frequently was volunteered to act as grill master, bartender, or parking attendant. It goes without saying that I stayed late and oversaw that the trash was cleaned up and the chairs were returned to the storage area. She on the other hand, was always greeting people at the door and especially taking any new comers to the community in hand and introducing them around to everyone and making them feel welcome.

Our April party was to be no exception. We had experienced a bad winter for our part of Texas with multiple freezes interspersed with non-seasonal warm spells. The trees and plants were definitely confused by the constantly changing weather. As a result, many of the people were also restless and this party was the first of our "Spring Season" and people were more than ready to get together and have a good time. My job was bartender since one of the recent newcomers wanted to show off his skills on the grill. The invitation from the committee specified for folks to bring kebobs of your choice and a vegetable or salad. As usual, the bartending job consisted mainly of keeping the beer cold and both red and white wine bottles open and ready to pour. My job was mainly to just to stand around but tonight I felt a little more energy and used it to walk around and refill wine glasses as I noticed them empty.

This led me to a very nice looking woman sitting alone on the outside of the main event watching people closely. She and her husband had been newcomers three months previously but I couldn't remember her name or much about her. Her husband was one of the principal figures on the center stage but I couldn't remember his name either or what he did for a living. I had always found it ironic that we recognized people by their name or their career but seldom by other redeeming qualities. Many people only remembered people by their name attached to a profession such as 'Rob, the doctor' as opposed to 'Rob, the banker'. One of our neighbors was notorious for her short summary of people with three attributes; 'that's Rob, the doctor; he's rich'. For her, the profession and his or her economic status clearly defined every person she met. I never knew how she thought about me if she ever did. If she did, it would probably be "That's Dan, he's married to Lidia; she is going to be vice president of her company soon." I guess that accurately describes my redeeming social value in the community.

Regardless of what my status was or wasn't, I took pleasure in seeing that people enjoyed themselves at our gatherings and tonight was no exception. So I approached the young woman whose wine glass was almost empty.

"Excuse me; I noticed that your glass is almost empty. Would you like a refill?"

The young woman looked at me and smiled, "Thank you Dan; I would appreciate it." I poured her another glass of merlot but felt bad because she remembered my name but I couldn't remember hers.

I covered as best I could. "Are you having a good time tonight?"

"So far, so good. I just hope that the grill guy doesn't burn all of the chicken kebobs. Most guys cook the chicken like they do the beef ones and they end dry and not really very good."

"I'll go out and make sure that he takes care of the chicken ones just for you."

She giggled. "I'll go with you. Most guys don't like a woman invading their private domain." She stood up and I left the wine bottles on the bar as we walked outside to the grill. Sure enough, the guy at the grill had the chicken ones right over the hottest part of the fire with the beef ones.

"Hi Dan and Natalie; is that right?" We nodded. "Will you watch the grill for a minute? I need to go the rest room."

"Sure, take your time." He left and I immediately moved the chicken kebobs to a cooler area of the grill and basted them again with some marinade.

Natalie looked at me and said, "That solved that."

I grinned and replied. "I think I can salvage the chicken for you."

"And you were reminded of my name to boot; how fortunate." She grinned back at me.

"Ok, sue me. I can remember a sixteen digit numerical password for a computer but I can't remember the name of a beautiful woman to save my life."

She laughed. "I thought I recognized a kindred soul in you when we first met. I am Natalie Reynolds and my husband is Greg, He works in sales management at Consolidated and I stay at home and do a bunch of different things. Remember now?"

"Of course; I remembered you and excuse me for saying this but your husband is mostly forgettable. I deal with his type often and I seldom remember their names after a meeting. They all want the same thing and that is to find a way to juggle the books to make things look better so that their bonus can be bigger."

"You just described Greg to a tee. Fortunately, he makes enough that I can pursue my passions."

"Which are?"

"Gardening for one; cooking for another; and writing for a third."

"So you write about gardening and cooking?"

"Those and other things."

"Interesting. Why don't you get your plate; I don't think I can do any further damage to the chicken."

She smiled, "Why don't I get us each a plate and you can regale me with your life among the boring while we eat. You are more interesting than the floor show."

Now that caught my attention; no one including my wife ever accused me of being interesting before. "I think that I would like that. Why don't you add salad and some veggies to the plates and I will be ready for you when you return."

"That's a deal. I'll put my wine on the table over there and will be right back."

As she walked away, I took another look at the woman who thought I was interesting. She was indeed very attractive in a natural way. She wore little makeup and her hair hung naturally. She was wearing a sweater and a skirt which hid much of her body but based on her legs and overall image, she appeared to be about 5'6" and weighed in around 130 lbs or so. She moved with the easy grace of a confident woman and didn't appear to have any severe affectations. Her smile was natural and free and her eyes flashed with interest.

She returned with her smile firmly in place and held out the plates as I placed three chicken kebobs on one and one each of beef, chicken and shrimp on the other. She said, "Oh a man with eclectic tastes. I like that." I turned a shade of pink and didn't have a response to that comment.

She carried the plates to the table and produced two sets of eating tools from a pocket and a beer from the other. "I wasn't sure if you were drinking beer or wine; so I gambled on the beer since not many men seem to be drinking wine."

"Damn; you have a flaw." I said lightheartedly. "I only drink beer when I go to a baseball game and I doubt that one will break out here tonight." I smiled at her. "I'll take this back and bring out a special bottle I reserved for special people and special occasions."

"Ah, the man is full of surprises." She responded as her smile expanded. I went inside and returned the beer to the cooler and dug out the wine I was saving for my meal. I carried two clean cups and returned to the table where I poured two glasses.

"It is red but I think that it goes especially well with food regardless of the rules."

Natalie took a sip and her eyes sparkled. "Oh, yes; this is very nice. Thank you. Are you a wine connoisseur?"

"No. I like to cook also and have tried a variety of different wines with different things. I just found this one a couple of months ago and really liked it. The other thing is that it is relatively cheap compared to some of the other so called gourmet wines."

"So, did you make any of the kebobs?"

"You are eating the chicken ones and the shrimp ones are mine. I'm not sure about the beef ones but I don't think so. This is a little tough."

"So meat is your thing?"

"Hey, I'm a guy. Meat and bread are my two passions. I bake bread from scratch and try all sorts of things with meats. Mostly, I grill them, even in winter; but I will broil them if the weather is really bad. What about you?"

"I'm a girl so I mostly do vegetables and casseroles. You are eating my vegetables. I get them from the farmer's market and try to make them interesting."

"No wonder they taste so good. How big a garden do you have?"

"Since we just moved, I am still developing it but right now, I am planning on about 4000 square feet. That is about half our back yard. My husband wants to put in a pool and a patio so I am working around that. Before we moved, I had a small ground garden but grew a lot of things in containers. We had a townhouse and there wasn't a lot of ground to work with. I am excited to get a big garden going."

"You said that you thought we had kindred souls; what did you mean? I'm curious."

She smiled her million dollar smile again. I felt that it was becoming addictive.

"When we first met, I could see that you weren't a party animal but that you were really a nice guy. Then last month, we didn't even say hello but I watched you closely and saw that you are like me in that you like to stay busy rather than chit chat and strut your stuff. I saw that you aren't a people person but a person person. You like individuals but aren't terribly comfortable in groups. And that pretty well describes me. So this month, I decided to get to know you better and so far you have lived up to all of my expectations. Comments?"

"Well you pretty well have me labeled and I will admit, you have my attention tonight. So where do we go from here?"

"For starters, tell me about the exciting things that go on in your head. A quiet man like you must have many, deep thoughts rolling around in there."

"Ah, you want me to bare my soul and then strip myself naked in front of you. Maybe, I am not ready to do that."

"No, you probably aren't; but tell me, when was the last time someone, anyone, asked you to just talk about yourself and was willing to listen?"

"Let's see; counting today, it has probably been about thirty years ago now."

"Unless I miss my guess, that would have been your mother who asked and you were about 5 years old and she wanted to know what you wanted to be when you grew up."

I grinned. "You are partially right. She wanted to know why I was fascinated by how someone hit a baseball. She didn't know the answer but then, none else knew the answer either."

"Oh, that is simple. The batter has to swing at precisely the right moment and has but a fleeting second to adjust the swing so that it is on the same plane as the ball. If he does this successfully, he hits the ball. If he doesn't, then he has a strike against him." She smiled. "Let's face it; that is really a tough job. The best hitter in baseball was Ted Williams and in his best year he hit safely 4 out of 10 at bats. So 6 out of 10 tries, he sat back down to try again later."

"And a good hitter today sits down 7 out of 10 tries. If my batting average in accounting was .300, I'd be in the unemployment lines."

"Your wife is in sales; what do you suppose her batting average is?"

"She says that if she can give her presentation to the right people, she closes about 80%. If you throw in all of the other efforts, it is probably in the 30% range because a lot of projects don't materialize."

"So if a batter today could discount all of the calls the umpire missed, they would all be hitting .400."

I shook my head and smiled. "You know your data and statistics. Are you sure you aren't a mathematician?"

"Actually, that was what I trained to be but then I found out that I would rather cook and garden and write rather than play with the numbers. So, you are an accountant. What part of that do you enjoy the most?"

That was also a novel question; most people assumed that I just liked to play with the numbers. "Actually, the part I like best is when someone comes to me with a box of stuff and asks me to turn that box into something meaningful. I guess I like to turn chaos into a coherent story best. Does that make sense?"

"Perfect sense; that is what I love to do with my writing. I take a scenario and create a plot around it and try to build it into a plausible story. When I succeed, I am floating on cloud 9."

"That's interesting. I always thought writers dreamed up some idealistic statement of the human condition and then wrote a story to illustrate it."

"Some writers try to do just that. I'm not one of those. I guess that I write to create a story and if I am really lucky, I generate a tale that includes that broad statement of the human condition. I usually just think of myself as a storyteller rather than a moralist."

"Give me an example. This is fascinating."

"Hmmm. Ok, look over there. There is my husband sitting with a woman who isn't his wife. What are they talking about? She could be hitting him up for a job. He might be trying to find a way to get in her panties. Or maybe they are discussing the differences and similarities between today's conservative and liberal politicians. Which scenario would make the best story?"

"The last one might make a good essay but would be a dry story. The first one could be the basis of a story but there would have to be more subject matter to make it interesting. So I guess a story of a man trying to seduce a woman in close proximity to his wife and her husband would be the most potentially interesting one of the three."

"You added two important details but you are right. It wouldn't be quite as interesting if her husband was out of town and his wife was working. Then it boils down to do they want to fuck each other. But with both spouses present, there is an element of suspense and unknown that enters the plot. That is what I call the erotic potential. Even if they both want to fuck each other, they probably can't get away with it today. They might arrange to meet later tonight or tomorrow or next week. They risk getting caught or seen by others. They might change their mind before they can actually get together. There are a host of things that can come between the want to and actual doing it. That is where I find the interesting story; building on that tension and leading to some form of ultimate resolution. In my mind, it is sort of like your box of receipts and trying to make the chaos into a coherent story."

"So you write porno?"

"I guess that it is in one sense but not really. I write about erotic potential; the actual sex act is fairly limited in scope and is usually the result of the buildup of the erotic potential. I do write other stories but honestly, I seem to find a lot of erotic potential in many scenarios. So yes, I do write a lot of 'adult' stories. Does that bother you?"

"No, not at all. I guess I thought that most adult stuff was written by men."

"The hardcore stuff usually is although there are women who write really hard stuff too. In general, women tend write softer, more romantic pieces. At least that is my experience."

"Do you try to sell them?"

"Actually, I have three novels published by one of the e-book companies and they are doing fairly well."

"A published author! Congratulations."

"Thanks. I am proud of them but I do write under a pen name. I still like my privacy. But I also have a published cookbook under my own name and so far, it is doing fairly well."

"Give me the name of one of your erotic stories; I'd like to read it."

She grinned, "So you are a dirty old man after all."

"Only if you admit that you are a dirty old woman too."

"Let me get your e-mail and I'll send you one of the ones that I am just about to release. No one has read it yet."

"Doesn't your husband read them?"

"No; he doesn't know that I write things like this. He knows I write about cooking and gardening and they don't interest him."

I grinned, "But he might be interested in your more erotic ones."

"Probably not since he would recognize himself in most of them. A lot of my stories are based on his activities."

"Really! I mean does he play around or do you just build stories around him and the people he comes in contact with?"

"He is definitely a flirt and tries to make a favorable impression on the women. Look over at them now. Do you see any changes in them since we started talking?"

I looked. They appeared to be sitting in the same position but they now appeared to be talking easier and laughing more. She occasionally put her hand on his arm as she responded to something he said. His eyes were focused on her although they wandered over her body rather than just on her eyes or face.

"It looks pretty much the same except that they seem to be more comfortable with each other." I said.

"Good observation. But now I would say that they have broken through the formality barrier and are into a more intimate place. She is touching him now and his eyes are wandering over her checking her out. If her blouse had two more buttons undone, his eyes would be glued on her tits. I would think that before long, they would take a break and go back inside and maybe dance a little. Then it would move from casual intimacy to more personal contact intimacy."

"So you really think that would happen? I mean you are here watching and her husband is probably inside and could come out at any time."

"The reality is that everything is probably fairly innocent right now but the erotic potential has increased as they have gotten more comfortable with each other. Let's take our plates inside and see what else we might see."

We stood up and gathered our plates and glasses and took them to the kitchen. From the look of things, clean up would be long tonight. There were a lot of plates and silverware filling the sink tonight. I frowned, but Natalie pulled me away from my upcoming chores and led me into the main room. We refilled our wine from the bottle on the bar and took a seat on one of the vacant love seats in the room. Music was playing on the stereo and several people were already dancing.

"Look at the people dancing. Which ones do you see who have the most erotic potential?" She asked as she leaned over to me and spoke softly in my ear.

I looked at each couple. It was then that I realized that my wife was dancing with one of the neighbors named Stan. They usually danced together several times during our parties but I had never thought much about it before. Now, I looked with a different outlook. They were dancing close to each other as it was a slow song. He was whispering in her ear and she was smiling. As they turned, I saw that his hand was below her waist but on the upper part of her ass, not terribly low. His other hand held her hand close to her body but his knuckles were definitely pressing against her breast. She had her abdomen pressed firmly against his and would undoubtedly know if he was at all erect. Previously, I wouldn't have thought a thing about it but now, I could certainly see the potential, the erotic potential. No one else caught my attention at the moment.