As my wife Molly and I got into our fifties, things sort of settled down between us. Things of a sexual nature I mean. Neither of us were as slim and trim as we'd been when we'd met forty years before, and though I still considered her my best friend and sexually desirable, she, I believe, began to think she was no longer attractive. I tried to convince her otherwise (I mean, hey, I'm paunchy too!), and though she said she believed me, I knew that deep down inside, she felt somewhat ugly and unwanted.
Still, we had a great time in bed on the weekends.
Throughout the years, we'd never had any problem commenting on people we saw in the movies or on TV. Whenever there would be a particularly beautiful actress shown, Molly would always mention it to me and I'd agree or disagree, depending on my particular tastes. Mostly, we agreed however.
This didn't bother me at all because before we'd met and fallen in love, Molly had had several lesbian lovers. She was basically bisexual, but then I was too to a certain degree, having gone to bed with a few men before I met her. But, as I told her on one of our first dates, I had always somehow 'become' female during those trysts, and much of the time when we were married, my feminine side would again take over; this seemed to please Molly no end. It had even gotten to the point where I kept my body shaved and smooth for her. If she missed being with a woman, perhaps I had become somewhat of a substitute.
But as the years went on, she had more and more misgivings about her appearance. And as that developed, she doubted my desire for her. It finally got to the point where I began wishing I were some beautiful twenty-year old female, just to make her happy. I think maybe a woman telling another women that she's beautiful carries more weight than if a man tries to do the same. But having been born a man, and after years of being as such, there was no way I could ever hope to give her that.
Then one day the courier service my company uses sent over a new courier, a girl by the name of Kelly. She was beautifulâfresh and vital in a way that I knew my wife would appreciate (having had all those discussions over the years), in her early 20sâand the more I worked with her and saw her day to day, the more I liked her.
And the more I knew my wife would like her as well.
The thought kept recurring that if I couldn't be the woman my wife needed or wanted, then maybe...a substitute would be worth checking into.
Weeks went by but I couldn't find any reasonable way to ask this peppy, vibrant young woman (who most likely was not in need of any company) that I wanted to somehow offer her as a 'gift' to my wife.
âBecause that's what it would amount to!
* * *
More time went by and on a day like any other, Kelly, signing for some documents as she stood at my desk, noticed me looking at her, as I again puzzled over what, if anything, I could say.
"What's the matter Mr. N.?" she asked in that sweet, cheerful voice of hers. I looked up at her as she stuffed documents in her delivery bag. "Got some troubles?"
Finally, after all these weeks, I gave up.
"Nothing really, Kelly," I told her. "Just that...that I wish I knew a way to tell an incredibly lovely courier girl that I'd like her to meet my wife."
Kelly straightened and stared at me, her big eyes unblinking. I hadn't mentioned her by name so I was somewhat safe from a harassment lawsuit. I watched her face, and strangely, saw the corners of her pretty mouth start to curl upwards. She leaned close.
"...you mean, like in a threesome?" she whispered, and her eyes sparkled a little.
"Oh heavens no." I said softly. "More like...well, my wife's sort of..."
"Just your wife and the lovely courier girl?" Kelly whispered. "Is she..."
"Halfway," I said. "...maybe more than half."
"Well," Kelly said in a hushed tone, "So am I, really. But...tell you the truth, I was kinda hoping for a threesome 'cause...well, I've been thinking about you a lot...." Then the girl zipped her bag up, handed me the paperwork and left my office. I felt certain that I'd be fired for bringing up such a thing but that day went by, the next and the third, and nothing was ever mentioned by any of my superiors.
Then Friday arrived and we needed to send some documents out pronto to the East Coast. Kelly came in for the pickup, waved at me as she hurried past my office to the boss's office, but paused at my door before leaving.
"By the way, the courier would
love
to meet the person you mentioned Mr. N.," she said poking her head in the door, and then, glancing up and down the hall, she stepped in, gave me a Post-it note and hurried out. On it was her phone number.
The very thought of this cute woman in bed with my wife gave me an erection that wouldn't go away for nearly five minutes. I stayed seated at my desk thinking of taxes and layoffs until it softened, but at the end of the work day I made the call on my private phone.
Kelly answered as she was driving home. We chatted, and the more I talked with herâespecially after hoursâthe more I realized how much Molly would enjoy being with her. She was clever, warm, courteous, and what was more, eager. She told me she'd been thinking about my offer for several days and that she'd become more and more thrilled with the idea as each day went by. She repeated her regret that it wouldn't be a threesome but we ended on the fact that she would be more than willing to do as I'd proposed.
Before hanging up, there was an uncomfortable silence. I hadn't really thought of the concept of paying her, and didn't quite know how to bring it up now. She wasn't exactly a friend, but to offer payment might sour the whole deal.
"Oh, and in case you're worrying about paying me, Mr. N.," Kelly said. "Don't. I'm...not doing it for that reason, okay?"
I sighed, thanked her and we hung up.
* * *
The arranged 'date' was to be my wife's next birthday, which was a week away. We were born in the same month, just a week apart, though Molly was two years younger than me. During the next few days I made secret calls to Kelly regarding rather private, personal matters such as what my wife was into, what pleased her most, the things she and I sometimes spoke about, even her favorite fragrances and perfumes.
âWhich, because of how I amâand having personally used pretty fragrances in bed for yearsâI was quite familiar with.