The Switch Ch 05

Samara wanted an update on what she called 'her girl'. Val was disinclined to tell her too much, given that he was starting to develop feelings for Aimee. Sure, in the beginning, he was happy to share, but he now the felt the urge for privacy. He wanted to protect what was going on between them.

On the other hand, it was now Wednesday, and he wanted to call on a favour for Saturday night.

'She agreed to a month?' Samara confirmed. 'A month of exclusive dating? No running away, no calling things off, just a month of dating?'

Val nodded. 'And we're now halfway through.'

'Interesting. How do you find the sex?'

'Possibly the best vanilla sex I've ever had. She gave me a blow job in the movies a few weeks ago.'

'Is that considered vanilla? Public sex?'

It was a good question. 'I don't know,' Val admitted. 'Sometimes I lose track of what's normal and what's not.'

'At any rate, it was good of her to do that. I wouldn't have.'

No, Samara wouldn't have. Samara wasn't hugely interested in sucking cock. If she was deigning to give you a blow job, count yourself lucky, because it wasn't an everyday occurrence. Aimee took a different approach. She offered up oral at the drop of a hat.

Their lunches arrived, and they settled down to eat. Val looked at Samara and tried to decide if now was the right time to try his luck.

'So, Miles is having a party on Saturday night,' he stated casually.

'So I heard. Open invitation night.'

'Are you going?'

'No, as a matter of fact, I wasn't planning on it. Every time I go to an open invitation event, men try to hit on me. It gets tiring, and the boy gets annoyed.'

Val placed his knife and fork down. He'd have to be frank. 'I have a problem. Miles asked me months ago to cater it. I agreed. Aimee's mother can baby-sit for her Saturday night but not Friday night. If I want to see her this weekend - and I do, I only have a month to prove myself - it means she has to come along, too. But because I'll be cooking, she'll be on her own.'

Samara raised her eyebrows. 'A month to prove yourself? I thought this was a 'get to know you' period?'

He sipped his beer. 'It's one and the same.'

'Oh no it's not. It's not even remotely the same. You like her.'

'Fine,' he agreed. 'I like her. Aren't you pleased? You chose her for me. Why not do me a favour, come along, and keep her company? Stop her from getting too intimidated. Maybe just take her to another room if something starts...'

'...Val,' Samara interrupted, holding up her hands in a commanding gesture. 'Let me get this straight; you're in the process of falling in love with a vanilla woman. You want me to go along to a dinner for alternative types and keep her from noticing anything too 'weird',' she said, using her hands to indicate inverted commas, 'so she doesn't ask any awkward questions about what you might actually want in bed?'

Val nodded. 'Yes.'

'No. Absolutely not.'

'Why not? You picked her for me.'

Samara stared at him incredulously. 'What part of you thinks this is going to end well? Miles isn't hosting a Tupperware party. There may be first timers there. They don't need some vanilla type turning their nose up at their preferences.'

'She's not like that.'

'Val, you told me you had to struggle to get her to take her top off and show you her boobs. Exactly how do you propose to explain something as banal as, oh, I don't know, an erotic spanking to her?'

'I was hoping you'd do that,' he admitted. 'Should the need arise.'

Samara inhaled and exhaled deeply. 'Val.'

'Please. Remember when you first bought Kyle along? When he was a newbie? I made the effort to get to know him.'

'No, the two of you got embarrassingly drunk and talked in great detail about masturbation. It wasn't even a sexy discussion,' Samara reminded him. 'And on the way home, you propositioned us and invited us to come inside and play.'

Val grinned. 'Well, now is the time to extract your revenge. You can get Aimee drunk and talk about masturbation with her.'

'Do I look like the sort of woman that likes hanging out with the girls?'

'Please?'

She sighed. 'You owe me one, you know that? And I'm only agreeing because I picked her. I may as well see what she's like.'

Val's grin widened. 'Thanks Samara. Just one thing, though; don't tell her what I'm into. I don't want to frighten her.'

~~~~~~~~~~

It was the twenty-first day of their arrangement, and Aimee was petrified. She stood in the foyer of the house anxiously, wishing she was at home. She hated parties. She especially hated parties where she didn't know anyone.

This wasn't her kind of scene. The house was an ostentatious McMansion with tiled marble floors and nice furniture, and the other guests looked like professionals. They were well dressed and confident. She counted over thirteen other men and women present, and she was very confident that not one of them worked in a career as lowly as childcare.

Val may have only lived a few streets away, but he was technically in a different suburb, and his place was much more homely. Welcoming. She liked sitting on his couch with him, and burying her feet in the old, shag pile carpet. Two of his cats were exceptionally friendly, and would climb onto her lap for a pat, and Val, too, would pat the felines. He'd stopped pretending his didn't like his pets, and now openly stroked and patted them, and threw their toy mice across the room for them to chase.

She couldn't wait for the night to be over, and to go back to his place with him. He had the comfiest bed she'd ever slept in, and the way he held her made her feel like the most special woman in the world.

That was, essentially, why she was here tonight. She had ten days until their arrangement ended. At the beginning, she'd been scared she'd committed for so long. Now, she was terrified that it might soon be over. If only he would tell her what he wanted... what he was like. The internet had thrown up a million possibilities, but there was no way of telling which options he preferred, and although she'd tried discreetly questioning him both in person and by text, he was remaining alarmingly elusive.

'You must be Aimee.'

Aimee turned around to see a woman roughly her own age approaching. The woman was dark haired, blue eyed, and had the sort of voluptuous figure that suggested a life of decadence. She wore a tight latex dress and heels, and she had on a leash a man in a black leather suit and mask.

'Yes,' Aimee said, forcing a smile. She was petrified. 'You must be Samara. Who is, um...' she gestured to the man.

'That's the boy. Don't bother with him, he's not speaking tonight.'

Aimee tugged at her hair anxiously. She felt underdressed in jeans, heels and a sequined top, and yet at the same time, she was covering more skin than any of the women present. She stared at Samara. Valery had informed Aimee that Samara would take care of her, and show her around.

He'd also told her he and Samara were once a couple. Aimee wondered what Valery might possibly find attractive about her, given that he'd previously been with someone so confident and beautiful. Aimee, in an effort to weasel information out of Valery had asked if Samara was a 'compatibly kinky' person, but he'd said 'no'. They were similar in some ways, but not others. It was one of the reasons they were no longer a couple. Further details hadn't been forthcoming, even when she'd pressed him for information. He'd merely changed the subject, as she'd noticed he was want to do whenever the topic of his sexual preferences arose.

Her gaze flickered to the boy. She'd never seen a real life person wearing a gimp suit. Looking at him, she didn't know whether to be scared or impressed. Or maybe she should just be weirded out. What sort of odd party had Valery invited her to?

'Don't be nervous,' Samara reassured her. 'Everyone has to start somewhere.'

'I just wish I knew what I was starting,' she admitted.

'Well, I'd happily tell you what's he's into, but he made me promise not to,' Samara replied.

Aimee's gaze darted back to the boy. There were little rings all over his suit, sewn into the leather. What were they for? Did Samara hang him up when she was sick of him? With the mask on, it was hard to gauge how old the man wearing it was. She checked his eyes, to see if he had wrinkles, but was instead greeted with two brown-black iris staring at back her. He was amused by her reaction, and he gave her a smile. She smiled back quickly, guiltily.

Samara noticed the exchange. 'I take it Valery didn't give you an overview of what to expect?' she asked, her tone carrying a hint of annoyance.

Aimee shook her head, unsure of whether Samara's irritation was directed towards Valery or herself. 'No. He doesn't tell me much.'

Samara snorted. 'I don't know why I'm surprised to hear that. I take it you haven't a clue?'

Aimee again shook her head. 'Can you give me a hint?'

'About Valery? Or about tonight?'

'Both really?'

Samara considered her question. 'Well, tonight is open invitation night. That means anyone who wants to come along and meet up with people who might be interested in joining them in BDSM play, swinging or the like can come along.'

'Swingers and BDSM people at the one party?'

'This is Toowoomba,' Samara reminded her. 'Limited population. We have to hang out together to get enough numbers to make an event worthwhile. Still, you'll probably find it easy enough to navigate after an hour or so. Everyone's friendly.'

That made sense.

'And what about Valery?' Aimee asked timidly.

'He did make me promise not to say anything,' Samara replied thoughtfully. 'But what if I directed you somewhere online that you'd be able to find out? Technically, I'd still be respecting his wishes, but it might save you a bit of grief. If he'd not what you want, it's easy enough to end things at this early stage, isn't it? It's a lot harder six months down the track.'

Aimee hesitated. 'What if he thought I was snooping?'

Samara shrugged. 'The choice is yours. I was only offering because you asked.'

'I want to know.'

'Good. I'll get your email address from Val and send you a link.'

Aimee was about to respond when someone called out 'Samara'. A woman, who must have been in the vicinity of fifty years of age, approached. She might have been older, but she knew how to dress, and she had a fabulous figure. Her blonde hair was perfectly styled, her make-up immaculate, and her lace dress fit her like a glove. You could have buried a child in the valley between her large, high bosoms, and her legs showed no sign of her age.

'Linda,' Samara greeted carefully. 'This is Aimee. Val's new girlfriend.'

Aimee tried not to avert her gaze as Linda looked her over with an air of contempt. Whoever this woman was, she clearly didn't like either Samara or Aimee.

'Really?' Linda said, directing her comment to Samara. 'His taste has certainly changed, hasn't it? Or has he decided just to focus on finding a mother for the children he so desperately wants?'

Aimee flinched. If Linda had been aiming to cut deep, she'd accomplished it. Every little fear and insecurity Aimee harboured rose to the surface. What was she doing here?

'Excuse me,' Aimee said, backing away. 'I need to find a bathroom.'

The room was now quite crowded, and she had to dash through a maze of people to get back to the foyer. Where to from here? She looked around anxiously. The room she'd been in was to the left, and directly to the right where two doors. She tried the first and found a cloak cupboard. She tried the second, but it was locked.

She walked down the foyer, deeper into the house. It was absolutely huge. Val had warned her that the owners of the house worked in security and the place was wired up, but she wasn't worried about being caught on camera. She wasn't here to steal anything; she just wanted to find a bathroom.

Aimee passed the formal dining area and glanced in. There was a massive twelve seat table perfectly set, and another table - obviously bought in for the night - behind it. She counted the seats. Twelve at the big table, eight at the second. Would that be enough? Was everyone here staying for dinner?

She could smell food and hear arguing, and she realised the kitchen must adjoin the dining room. One of the voice's belonged to Val. She padded into the dining room and listened. She'd never heard Val raise his voice before. He didn't sound particularly angry, just frustrated, and she tried to make out the words.

The conversation changed from something heated, to laughter. Whatever the disagreement was, it had been sorted. Aimee padded out of the room and into the hallway. There was a door to the other side. Maybe this was the bathroom. She opened it and found, not a proper bathroom, but a laundry with a toilet in it. That would do. She could hide out here.

The door to the laundry had come on automatically. Aimee locked the door, peed, and washed her hands in the laundry sink. She tried to force herself to go back outside, to the party, but couldn't. That woman, Linda, had been such a goddamn bitch.

Aimee closed the toilet lit, sat down, and pulled out her phone. Thank God for the age of internet. With any luck, she could spend the next twenty minutes or so reading stuff online, eat her dinner, and go home.

Or so she thought. She'd only just settled into reading, when someone knocked on the door.

'I'll be out in a minute,' she said, shoving her phone into her bag. She washed her hands again, just in case the person outside was listening in and thought she was the non-hand-washing kind. She took a deep breath, prepared to go back to the dining room, and opened the door.

The person who had knocked gave her a hard look. 'This area's off limits. Weren't you told where the bathrooms are?'

He looked so authoritative she was lost for words. He frowned, his hazel eyes settling on her with curiosity. His hair was dark blonde and immaculately cut, and his suit pants and shirt were perfectly tailored.

Aimee's eyes welled with tears. She was so fed up it was ridiculous. She was like a goddamned fish out of water here, amongst beautiful people wearing beautiful outfits. Val obviously had a history of dating ridiculously sexy women with kinky sexual habits. Why was he with her? She had body hang ups. She was poor. She was a single mother.

Was he really just desperate to get married and have kids? Muslim kids? Kids that would be raised in a faith that she wasn't part of? Where would Ben fit into this? Oh God. This was just shit. She'd had enough.

'No,' she muttered, sensing he wouldn't leave until she responded. 'I'm sorry. I'll go back.'

She didn't trying to find Val to let him know she was going. Linda was obviously here for a reason, and Val could comfort himself in Linda's spectacular tits if he was offended by Aimee leaving.

The man didn't follow her, but when she got to the door, he called out, asking what she was doing.

'I'm going home,' she said, opening the door and walking out.

She'd driven herself here, so she reached for her keys and made her way to her car. She was parked in. Of course she fucking was. Aimee opened the door anyway, slid inside, and burst into tears.

She was completely sick of dating. Sick of men. Sick of her inability to be a proper grown up. Sick of her inability to give Val what he wanted sexually. Actually, she was just sick of bloody everything, and the fact that she was on her period and therefore hormonal didn't help.

The man from the hallway tapped on her window. Aimee tried to wind down the window, but without the key in the ignition, the electric windows wouldn't work, so she instead opened the door.

'I'm sorry,' she apologised, wiping her eyes. 'I wasn't trying to steal anything. I was just lost.'

'And now you're parked in,' he remarked.

'Yep. Where are the police when you need them?'

He deigned to crack a smile. 'I'm one of them, but given you're on private property, the matter is outside my jurisdiction.'

She laughed through her tears. 'Typical. Just give me a moment. I'll fix up my make-up and find whoever owns the CX-7 and ask them to move it.'

'You don't have to go.'

'I probably should. I don't fit in here. I'm only here because this guy I'm seeing is here... he said I should come...' She bit her lip. 'I'm sorry. Go inside. I'll be fine. I promise I won't steal anything.'

This time he didn't smile. 'Your boyfriend might get worried if he suddenly can't find you.'

'He won't notice,' she reassured him. 'He's cooking.'

'Val?' the guy stated, surprised. 'You're Aimee?'

She nodded. Fresh tears welled up in her eyes, and she wiped at them furiously. 'I am. Everyone gives me that look, too, so don't bother trying to hide it.'

'Are you sure that leaving's a good idea? He was quite worried about you coming here tonight. If you just up and leave, he'll assume something's wrong.'

She fiddled with her car keys. 'But if I stay here, I'll let him down. I can't talk to people I don't know. Besides, one of his ex's is here, and I think she wants to get back with him.'

'Samara? No way on earth.'

'No, not Samara. Linda.'

'I don't know Linda,' he said. 'Look, open up the passenger door. I'll sit down for a second. Truth be told, I don't really feel like socialising either.'

Aimee opened the passenger side door and he climbed in. He was a bit younger than her, but he looked very confident, despite his admission he didn't feel like going inside any more than she did.

'My wife left me two days ago,' he said, out of the blue. 'Everyone keeps asking where she is. I don't know what to say.'

'That's pretty shit,' Aimee agreed. 'Do you have kids?'

'Two. She has them both with her.' He sighed and stared out the windscreen. 'We're trying to work out custody arrangements, but I work on a rotating roster. How is that supposed to work? And I'm not even sure if I can look after them without her.'

'You'll be fine on your own. I thought the same thing when my son's father died. I thought I'd never be able to raise a kid on my own, but you work your way through things. The hardest part is my son latches onto men, because my father's not around, I don't have brothers, and his father's family aren't involved.'

'Has he met Val?'

'No.' She shook her head. 'I don't think things with Val will last much longer.'

'Why do you say that? Because you don't want to go inside? I don't want to go inside, and I know about half the people there.' He paused. 'Actually, don't listen to me. I don't know anything about relationships. If I did, my wife wouldn't have left me. But I don't think Val expects you to just flit in and join the fun. How about we both suck it up, go inside, and eat dinner? I'll keep you company if you do the same for me.'

She thought about it. 'Okay,' she said eventually. 'That sounds good.'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Samara was relieved to see her charge return. Sure, her eyes were red and she was clutching at Oliver like he was a life raft, but she was here. Samara wouldn't need to have any awkward conversations with Val about Linda and her ongoing bitchiness.

'Aimee, Oliver,' she greeted.

'Hi Sam,' Olly greeted. He peered at Kyle. 'Has the boy been misbehaving again?'

'He has. He had a choice between no orgasms for forty-eight hours, or no talking here tonight. Guess what he chose?'

Oliver rolled his eyes. 'And you were surprised?'

'I was, but I shouldn't have been. Next time I won't be offering choices,' she said, turning and glaring at the boy, so he was completely aware she was serious.

The boy blushed. He was enjoying the punishment, which aggravated her. The little shit. He knew how to play her beautifully. Every time she was confident she had him cornered, he came out with a new little gem.