Author's Note:
This story is written from my perspective as a straight man. I hope it's not alienating for female readers. This one is pretty filthy, but I hope it also contains some moments of real emotion and possibly some wisdom. Although I submitted this in the Erotic Couplings category, it does contain some MMF threesome elements. I chose Erotic Couplings because I thought it best represented what this story is to me. This is primarily a story about my relationship with one woman.
I choose not to use an editor for my writing. I feel more comfortable editing myself as carefully as I can, but I'm not a professional writer and apologize if I've missed something.
As always, I welcome feedback. And truly, thank you for reading.
....
I was just another middle aged married man. I had a good job, a family, a comfortable home, friends, hobbies, and all the typical trappings of a bourgeois middle class life. I was predominately comfortable, and dying inside. My marriage had always been pragmatically companionate. Over the past twelve years it had become vexingly dispassionate. I hated myself for wanting more, but also for accepting this deeply unsatisfying compromise. On one hand, I felt like I was betraying myself. On the other, I felt I was naive to expect life to be more passionate.
Even casting aside my yearning for romance, understanding, intimacy, and some amorphous idea I had about deep connection, I was still left with base sexual desire that I couldn't fulfill. I wanted more. I wanted filthy erotic experiences that I knew I'd never have.
Sex had become a routine, once-a-month, checklist item. I'm tempted to feel I was complicit in this, and maybe I was, but I have to at least acknowledge that I tried. I made an effort. I sent my wife text messages ranging from sweet and romantic to downright filthy. I asked difficult questions about her fantasies. I introduced toys. I set the scene for her many times. I did everything I could think of to generate some sort of sexual excitement and mystery in our relationship. Sometimes it helped over the short term, but never affected any lasting change. If she was bored with me, then it wasn't exclusively my own failing. But it's hard not to feel like a failure when your partner doesn't want you.
At some point I guess I gave up. I felt ashamed of myself, but the prospect of initiating a painful divorce that would devastate my family was too heavy a burden. And nobody would understand. How could I break up a successful family simply because I didn't feel wanted enough? I felt like I was asking too much. So I gave up and pretended to be content like everyone expected me to be.
One Saturday evening, after the kids were in bed, I decided to go out alone for a drink. This wasn't unusual for me. I had a favorite bar. The bartenders knew me by name and at least pretended to enjoy talking to me. They felt like friends, but that's also probably their job. In any case, I never worried about making plans to meet other friends at the bar. I knew most of the bar's regulars and there was never a shortage of conversation. And if I wanted to enjoy a drink in solitude I could easily do that too.
When I entered the bar, both bartenders looked up and yelled my name loudly, waving and smiling as they often did to acknowledge my arrival. Several people at tables scattered around the bar looked up to see what exciting thing had just happened, then returned to their conversations realizing they didn't know me.
As I approached the bar I noticed a table of women in the back corner. One woman was still watching me. I immediately recognized her. Her name was Julia. She had been my colleague for three years before she left to pursue other things. I adored Julia. She was funny, assertive, intellectually curious, and kind. She was a little spark plug; a gorgeous petite woman outsized by her beguiling personality. Physically, she was small - I guessed barely taller than five feet. She had long dark curly hair, and large espresso eyes. She wasn't stick-thin, but not exactly voluptuous. Many people might have called her average, but honestly I didn't think much about her body, because her personality and expressive face were so overwhelmingly attractive that it rendered everything else about her irrelevant.
I hadn't seen Julia in over a year. I was excited to talk to her, but didn't want to interrupt her conversation with her friends. We locked eyes smiling as I took a seat at the bar across the room from her table. She cocked her head at me and winked, raising her glass and taking a sip. I waved back casually, then turned toward the bartender.
I ordered a drink and made light conversation with one of the bartenders for a bit. I couldn't help glancing over at Julia's table frequently. Sometimes I'd find her interacting with her friends, her head thrown back in laughter or leaning in like she was sharing a secret. Other times I'd find her staring back at me boldly. She wore her confidence and overt sexuality on her sleeve. I admired her free spirit. I rededicated myself to keeping my eyes away from her table with momentary success.
"Tap tap." - she tapped me on the shoulder, verbalizing the act simultaneously. "Hello there, stranger!" She beamed at me. She leaned on the bar between me and another patron, obviously not concerned about invading anyone's personal space. "How are you?!" She asked throwing her arms around me.
"I'm great! How are you?" I replied, returning her friendly hug.
"I'm fantastic! Look at you, in your leather jacket and tight jeans. You look great, you fucking stud."
Julia and I had always been perhaps slightly too flirtatious. We dismissed it as humor, but it belied a real undercurrent of sexual tension between us. There was no doubt from my perspective. I thought Julia was among the sexiest women I'd ever known. Maybe she didn't experience it the same way, but she was a forbidden fantasy for me. I never turned up the heat, but the pilot light was always on. Just the sound of her voice aroused me.
"You're still devastatingly beautiful," I said trying to act cool and detached before taking a sip of my drink. She caught my poorly hidden sincerity.
"Thank you," she said quietly, forcing me to hold eye contact. "Are you here alone?" She asked. "Are you meeting someone..?" She fished for a juicy detail.
"Ha ha. No. I'm alone. Jen's at home."
"Oh, glad to hear you're still being a good boy," she joked.
"Where's Rick?" I asked. Rick was Julia's husband - her "partner" as she called him. I'd met him a few times in the past. I found him to be intelligent and likable, but didn't know him well. He and Julia seemed very happy together. They didn't have kids and I got the impression they had a somewhat freewheeling lifestyle. They were both a few years younger than I. Julia in particular struck me as a feminist. I liked that about her. I even liked the fact that she didn't shave her underarms, despite her tendency to dress nicely and wear makeup. She was very different from my wife, who conformed rigidly to more conservative beauty standards. Julia did whatever the fuck she wanted, and I had a real weakness for that attitude.
"Who the fuck knows where Rick is? I ditched him to hang out with my girls," she said rolling her large eyes dramatically before cracking another smile. "We're actually leaving for this other thing, but I had to say hi before my friends dragged me out of here."
"I'm glad you could spare a moment in your busy social schedule," I teased.
"Fuck off. Give me your number!"
I recited my number slowly while she tapped it into her phone. Moments later my phone vibrated with a text from her.
It read: Julia [kiss emoji]
"Did you get it?"
"Yes," I replied.
"Let's chat and catch up soon?"
"Sure. I'd love to."
With that her gaggle of friends swept her away and they vanished into the night leaving me sitting alone at the bar as I'd become accustomed to doing.
I didn't hear from Julia again that night, nor the following day. I considered texting her, but convinced myself she'd just been making a polite gesture by saying she wanted to catch up. I put it out of my mind and focused on the daily routines of my workweek.
Monday night, quite late, I felt my phone buzz.
Julia: You up??
Me: Ha!
My wife had already gone to bed and I was reading on the sofa. I was thrilled she texted me. It felt strangely exciting to get a late text from a woman, even though I knew it was just Julia's style of humor to make it seem sexual. Still, even the hint of having some kind of new romantic interest in my life felt electrifying, and simultaneously a bit pathetic. How juvenile and desperate was I?
Julia: What are you wearing?
Me: Nothing but a smile now
Julia: [surprised emoji] Ooh, la la
Me: Haha
Julia: Am I interrupting anything..,?
Me: Definitely not...
Julia: Okay cool. It was so great to see you! Sorry I couldn't hang!
Me: You too. I understand. But I'm really glad we ran into each other. Honestly, I've missed you.
Julia: I've missed you too!
We chatted for two hours until it was extremely late. Sleep became an urgent priority and we were forced to say good night. Julia texted me again the following night, and the night after. This went on for weeks. I found myself making excuses to stay up late. I had work to complete, or an unfinished piece of art, a game to watch, or some other project. Any excuse would do. Invariably my phone would vibrate between 10:30 PM and 11:00 PM with a new message from Julia, which would prompt another long conversation. I walked around with my phone in my pocket feeling like I was carrying a secret. There was nothing particular about our conversations that crossed the line, but my heart told me I'd crossed the line. The fact that I kept the extent of our correspondence secret was evidence of that.
As time went on our chats became more intimate. Ironic flirting became earnest words of appreciation and desire. Eventually Julia very intuitively asked me about my marriage.
Julia: So are you happy?
Me: Yes, of course
Julia: Happy with Jen?
Me: It's not terrible
Julia: But not great...
Me: To be real, things are cold. Probably just the normal ups and downs of any marriage?
Julia: You don't fuck anymore?
Me: Very rarely
Julia: Interesting. I'm sorry if I'm being nosey
