Erica and I have been married for four years. We're both in our late twenties. We met in a bar in uptown. We were both there for the same thing, a quick, one time, exchange of bodily fluids. Nothing serious. Nothing long term. No emotional involvement. Just get laid and go home happy.
None of that actually worked. That night we had sex in the back seat of my car. Afterward, we went back into the bar together. That never happens. Usually, we go our separate ways. Neither of us heads back into the bar where everyone inside knows why we went outside together.
Not that night. Something happened in the back seat of my car that night besides sex. We wanted to be together. We wanted to get to know each other better. We went back inside together, found an empty booth, and ordered drinks. We talked until closing time and then went back to my car to talk until sunrise.
We went to breakfast together and I reluctantly dropped her off at her apartment afterwards. We saw each other almost every day for the next three weeks. That's how long it was before we had sex again. That time it was real. It was emotional, passionate, and serious. It was a confirmation of what we both already knew. We were committed to a long-term relationship.
Erica moved in with me two weeks later. We were married within a year. Paul and Erica, Mr., and Mrs. Cunningham. Sounded wonderful to me.
Neither of us has been back to the bar where we met.
We live in a 3500 square foot, two-story house in a middle-income neighborhood in a suburb of the city. Our neighbor on the right is a fifty something widow and the neighbors on the left are a childless couple in their forties. The house has a pool that takes up most of the backyard.
I have a technical certification in airplane maintenance and work for a major airline at the airport earning over $200K a year. Erica has a degree in business administration with an accounting minor and manages an office staff for a multimillion-dollar corporation in the city. Her compensation is six figures and doesn't reflect her actual worth to the company.
Our ardor for our jobs is only exceeded by our ardor for each other. Our enthusiasm for our daily sexual encounters knows no bounds and leads to prolonged bouts of emotional and physical releases with occasional experimental diversions. Much of our time together is spent in stimulating conversation punctuated with philosophical considerations about whatever we're discussing and always ends with satisfying sex, even if we had disagreed about something.
In addition to actual sex, we frequently talk about sex. On occasion, Erica has wondered how her pursuit of sexual contact might have developed if she hadn't met me. Who and how many partners might she have had sex with? She insists that she's only fantasizing and not actually desiring to know. She also postulates that I must have similar thoughts even though I deny her assertion. However, the thought lingers, have we somehow missed something?
Stephanie has been Erica's best friend since high school even though distance has kept them apart except for a week each spring they spend together at a Caribbean island resort. I met Stephanie once at our wedding. We didn't have enough time together to develop a meaningful relationship. Erica and Stephanie insist on referring to themselves as "girls" but neither of them is anything other than a fully developed and desirable woman.
Last April, Erica returned from her annual resort week with Stephanie. She jumped my bones with her usual post sun, sand, and sea intensity, apparently anxious to make up for the time we'd been apart with as much intense sex we both could endure. I admit, I looked forward to the week after her "girls" vacation but this time there was something different. Something real but something I couldn't put my finger on.
It was almost two weeks later that, in post coital rapture that Erica wondered out loud, "Paul, I love that we're married, but do you think we missed something by rushing to get married?"
The question surprised me and reminded me of earlier conversations about sexual partners. Was Erica dissatisfied with the quality of the sex with me? It was a disturbing thought. I certainly wasn't having fantasies about sex with other women, but her question required an answer.
I rolled in her direction and kissed her. "Erica," I said. "Marrying you was the best decision I've ever made. I'd have done it even sooner if it was possible and I'd do it again."
Erica kissed me back. "I love you," she said before she dozed off.
Another week passed before Erica mentioned the subject from a slightly different angle. Over dinner, she speculated, "Sometimes I wonder if our sex life is as varied as it could be."
"Erica," I responded, "With the possible exception of the last few pages of the Kama Sutra, I don't think we've missed anything. Can you think of something new we should try? You know I'm all for it."
"No, I can't," she replied. "Except for a few things that don't work well for one of us, there's nothing I would change or add. If there was, you'd be the first to know."
This time it was two weeks before Erica started another conversation. We were in bed, resting between sexual encounters. She rolled up on me, kissing me and pressing her breasts into my chest. "You know Stephanie?" she asked.
"Not well," I confessed. "I've only met her once, at our wedding. However, I'm glad that you and she have such a strong relationship. It's good for all of us."
"Yeah," she agreed. "It is good. What do you think about her?"
"I didn't spend much time with her," I explained. "I really can't form an opinion except based on what I know about your relationship with her. From that, I assume she's a really nice person."
"How about as a woman?" asked Erica as her fingers toyed with my nipple.
"What does that mean?" I asked.
"Her body," explained Erica. "What do you think about her body?"
"I've never seen her naked or even in a bathing suit," I vacillated. "Only in an evening dress. She's very attractive. Her facial features are symmetrical and very feminine. Her hair was up but I can imagine it would be incredible let down, framing her face and hanging over her shoulders. The rest could qualify her as an artist's model."
"How about her breasts?" asked Erica.
"Erica, honey," I replied. "I think I've covered that. You know that a woman can adjust the size and shape of her breasts with appropriate clothing. Only seeing her naked, or almost naked, would allow an honest appraisal of her breasts."
"Would you like to see her breasts naked?" Erica asked.
"I've never met a woman who I wouldn't like to see her breasts naked, including Stephanie," I confessed.
Erica laughed and kissed me. "I love your honesty."
I kissed her back. "My turn to ask a question?" I asked.
"Okay," agreed Erica.
"Why the thoughts of variations in sex and the sudden interest in my opinion of Stephanie?"
"Stephanie did something the last time we were at the resort," stated Erica.
"I'm listening."
"I shouldn't tell you this," said Erica. "But Stephanie met someone and spent the night with him."
"Oh," I muttered. "That seems out of bounds somehow."
"It is for me," confirmed Erica. "But Stephanie and Major aren't married and, apparently, they have an open agreement that allows either of them to wander if the situation feels right."
"And you wonder if Stephanie might wander in my direction?" I asked.
"Not really," mulled Erica. "More like would you let her wander in your direction?"
"Erica, I love you," I reminded her. "I'm not going to let anyone wander in my direction, including Stephanie. You have my word."
"I'm sorry I even had the thought," said Erica as she slid down on my erection for round two.
The conversation was over but the questions remained. Where was Erica heading with repeated, and increasingly specific, conversations about Stephanie? Maybe I should get to know Stephanie better but the chance of doing that is almost impossible with the distance between us.
Coincidently, the distance problem was solved during the next week. Major had been offered a promotion with a change of location and he had accepted. He and Stephanie would be moving to a city nearer to us. Within a month, they would be only eighty miles and ninety minutes away.
