Another story about wife-sharing and cuckoldry, so please stop reading now if that bothers you. This is a sequel to Hummingbird, so you might want to check that out before you read this one.
1.
It was mid-morning when Patrick woke up. He lay there with his eyes half closed, not looking at his phone. Linda was up, he could smell coffee and he had a vague memory of her untangling herself from his arms and then the shower running. How long ago was that? Jesus. How long ago was last night?
He cocked his head and listened. Something metallic, a bowl clinking down on the kitchen counter. He should go down, they could have breakfast together. He gathered his strength and slid out of bed. His head was throbbing, not like a hangover, more like not enough sleep. Or something.
But he paused in the hallway, looking at the closed door of the other room, the room with the bed and the chair. Slowly he reached out and turned the knob. The door swung open.
The straps were hanging limply from the arms and legs of the chair. He glanced at his wrists. Sore spots and some marks where he had strained against the restraints. Trying to see better. He swallowed. Trying to watch Linda and Justin.
Today it all felt... was "unreal" the word he was looking for? It didn't begin to cover it. "Weird"? "Twisted"?
He heard the pad of bare feet on the stairs, then turned and saw Linda coming up, her face framed by strands of damp hair, her eyes fixed on a pair of mugs she was carrying. She was wearing the scarlet Japanese robe, the one that went down halfway to her knees. It was so sudden, the sight of her, neck, collar bones, knees, thighs. Patrick's imagination jumped back to last night, to what he had seen, to what she had been doing. Jesus.
Linda glanced up and saw him framed in the doorway. "Hey," she said. "Thought you might want some coffee."
"Oh," Patrick said. "You read my mind." He smiled back at her. His heart did a quick little two-step. "Good morning," he added.
"Good morning," she said. She came up the last few steps and handed him a mug. He leaned forward and planted a kiss on her collarbone.
"I was thinking," he began.
"Mmm?" She took a sip of her coffee and looked at him over the rim of her mug. He swallowed. This suddenly all felt strange.
"I love that robe," he said.
She reached up and fingered the red fabric. "That's nice," she said softly.
"But mostly," he added.
"Mmm?" she said again.
"I like what's inside it." His voice was thick, he was having trouble talking.
Linda tilted her head to one side and looked at him through her eyelashes. "Oh yeah?" she asked.
"Yeah," he told her. "You're... the most amazing, sexiest..." He swallowed.
There was a pause. "That's nice," Linda said. She flashed him a little smile. "Visiting the scene of the crime?" she asked.
Patrick looked back into the room. "Nah," he said. "I mean.. I don't know. I was just. You know. Remembering."
"Yeah," Linda said. She shivered.
"Cold?" Patrick asked.
"I guess, I don't know," Linda said. "Can we go downstairs? Maybe have breakfast?"
"Sure," Patrick said. He paused. "You doing okay?"
"Sure," she said. "You?"
"Sure," he said. There was another pause. "Are you really okay?" he asked.
"Yeah... I mean. I don't know." Her eyes flickered over to the bed. "I kinda wish..." she sighed. "Ah shit."
"We hadn't done it?"
"Yeah," she said. "I mean, I know you wanted it..."
Patrick winced. "I'm sorry," he said. "It was.. Oh God. I didn't mean to push..."
"Here's the thing," Linda said. She was looking at Patrick, her mouth set in a little line. "The whole time we were talking about it, thinking about it, half of me was like, Patrick won't mind if I change my mind."
"No," he said hastily. "I wouldn't have. Minded."
"Right. So okay, we took the photo, it was fun. Sexy bride in just her veil. You know?"
"It was fun," Patrick agreed.
"Even after we put the ad out, nobody knew it was me. It was just... fun. Like a fantasy."
Patrick swallowed. "I didn't want to push you," he said again.
"That's what I'm telling you," Linda said. "You didn't push me. I knew I could have changed my mind at any time but I didn't. What's wrong with me?"
"Oh Linda..."
"I'm serious," she said. "Even when we got all those stupid replies to the ad, the 'I'm gonna fuck you so hard' bullshit with the dick pics, it was just, kind of funny. Kind of ick but kind of funny, too."
"Yeah," Patrick agreed.
"But at some point... I don't know. I should have said, this is going too far. I'm not really going to have sex with some random guy off the internet just so..." She trailed off.
"Oh honey," Patrick said. He put his mug down on the dresser, next to the burned out candlesticks, and put his arms around her. "I love you."
"I love you, too," Linda told him. "That's not the problem. It's me I'm not so fond of this morning."
"You've done nothing to be ashamed of," Patrick told her. He tried to kiss her but she turned her face away.
"Let me finish," she told him. "You know I wasn't really thinking much further than this is just a fun fantasy. I wasn't going to actually cheat on you."
"What about Carlo?" he asked. "What about Vegas?"
"What do you mean, What about Vegas? And forget about Carlo, I haven't answered any of his texts." She took a step away and looked at him.
"Well, you..." He stopped.
"Had sex with the guy at the conference?"
"Yeah."
"I think," LInda said. "There's a difference between having a little fling at a conference with, I might remind you, your active encouragement. And..." She shivered again. "Fucking some stranger while my husband looks on. Tied to a chair."
There was a pause. "Even if that's what he wants you to do?" he asked lightly.
"Maybe especially if that's what he wants me to do," she retorted. "It's all kind of... ewww. Ugly and sick."
"I didn't think it was ugly," Patrick said. "When you came in, in your gown, I thought, she is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my entire life."
"But then..."
"I know," Patrick said. "Then you were... on the bed with him. And you were still beautiful. It was like... I don't know. I wasn't really seeing him anymore. It was all about you, feeling like I was the one... fucking you. And watching you at the same time." He sighed. "I'm not explaining this well."
"I think you're not hearing me," Linda said. "I didn't do it for you, I did it for me."
Patrick looked at her. "Isn't that good?" he asked. "I mean better than if you were only doing it because.."
"Because you wanted me to?"
"Yeah."
"Well," Linda said. "That would definitely have been gross. Fucking somebody so you could get off. But think about it. I could have said No at any point but I didn't. I came in and fucked Justin with you and Cassie watching like some kind of sex show deal."
"But if you wanted to do it..."