Chapter 13 - Dinner with Frank
It was well past midday when the continuous loud knocking at the flat door woke Tom. Staggering out of bed, still half asleep, he hurriedly pulled on last night's clothes and went to answer it.
A delivery driver, standing outside, handed him the dozen red roses with a mocking smirk and left him standing slightly lost for words.
Still somewhat confused he tried to get his mind to focus and, closing the door, picked out the hand written card to read it,
To the best lap dancer
I've ever had the pleasure
to enjoy. Looking forward
to dinner. I'll pick you up
at 7 p.m. Frank xxx
His heart lurched and his stomach tightened when he saw what was on the note. This was more than he could cope with and he stumbled back into the kitchen, his mind in a whirl.
"Who was it?"
Jessica appeared in the doorway, her hair a tousled mess from sleep and their energetic and frantic coupling that had taken place when they got home from the club in the early hours.
He handed his wife the bouquet, "I guess that answers the question as to whether he'll want you in his bed."
"Tom! We knew this was going to happen and we agreed it was what we both wanted, remember." Jess looked at him with an expression of annoyance and chastised him.
"I know but it's just the thought of me not being with you. Of you being alone with him." He told her morosely.
"Pervert! You mean it's the fact that you won't be able to watch him fuck me and satisfy your little kink, isn't it." She laughed.
Slipping her arms about his neck Jess kissed him and continued, "It's you I love, no matter what happens tonight or who sends me roses."
He grinned sheepishly knowing he had been caught out.
"OK, yes, it is partly that, that and the fact I'm not there to protect you."
"Now that would be interesting, seeing how you would protect me from his cock." His wife giggled and kissed him again before releasing her hold on him.
"Coffee?" She picked up two mugs out of the cupboard.
"Please."
"Come on Tom. We knew this might happen. Are you going to sulk about it all day?"
He looked up at her and tried to smile, "I'm just scared Jess. I can see you want him and.... what if you prefer him to me? I don't know what I'd do if you... you left me."
Turning to stare at her husband Jessica put down the mugs and rushed across to sit on his lap, her arms about his neck as she hugged him tightly.
"I'll never prefer anyone to you. I love you. I've told you that and I mean it."
"But he's so..."
Jess looked into his eyes as she began to cry, "Charismatic? Yes, he is and I know that he'll make me cum so much but it's you I love. What if you're the one who hates me for this?"
The two of them kissed and held each other for a while until, feeling a little reassured, she got up and finished making the coffee.
Somehow, they got through the afternoon although the waiting was far, far worse than it had been when they had been in the club with Gregor Markov.
Throughout the day Tom's emotions fluctuated between two extremes; one almost irrational jealousy and the other a feeling of unbelievable arousal. While Jessica struggled quietly with her own feelings of apprehension and lust over what was probably going to happen to her.
Trying to cope Tom took himself off to the bedroom and left Jess alone, watching tv.
It wasn't until he eventually came back, a couple of hours later, and found his wife sitting curled up on the couch, sobbing, that they spoke again about the coming evening.
"Hey, hey. What's up babe?" He sat down and put his arm around her to comfort her.
"I knew you would start to hate me and you do, don't you? You won't even speak to me now. I've ruined everything." She managed to tell him between sobs.
"No, no you haven't done anything it's me, that's all. I'm struggling to cope with my feelings about all this. That's all it is." He struggled to find the words to express how he actually felt.
Jessica looked up at her husband, her eyes red from crying, "Please be honest with me Tom and I promise I will be with you."
"OK." He took a deep breath, "Watching you dance at the club and then again when Markov fucked you, all of that turned me on so much but only because I love you.
"But this, the flowers, the waiting, the date. It's all a new experience. He clearly wants you and I'm not sure I want you spending the night with him, away from me."
She sniffed, rubbing away her tears, "But you do want him to fuck me?"
"Yes, yes, I do. I want you to get fucked by him, by the men at the club, by anyone." He blurted out finally admitting the depth of his perversion, "I guess that makes me weird."
Jess kissed him tenderly, "No, it doesn't, it makes you a man who wants to see his woman get as much pleasure as she can cope with."
"Really?" He snorted derisively, "I thought it made me an idiot who was going to end up losing his wife."
"Tom Whitby, I love you. I have since the moment I met you. It took me three days to find the courage to tell you and I haven't regretted it ever since. Especially not now." She looked him straight in the eyes, "You aren't making me do anything I don't want to. That's the big difference in this. We both want it."
He gave her a smile of sorts, "I love you to, more than I can ever say."
Stroking his cheek she replied, "I know you do and nothing is going to change that for either of us. Do you understand that?"
"Yeah, I think so, it's just..."
"It's just the waiting, the uncertainty, I know it's the same for me." Her words surprised him.
"But I thought..."
"Stop thinking. Do you want me to be a slut, a whore? Yes, or no?" Jessica stated bluntly.
"Yes." His answer was brief and succinct.
