I told Hammed when he came back from the mosque. He hates parties, social interaction, and anything that requires small talk. Frankly, he wouldn't go to the mosque but he loves the routine. He doesn't see the point of parties and they stress him out. But he likes making me happy and I knew that he'd want me to go.
"Hammed, work is organising a staff party next Friday, after we close. I have to go so I'll be back late. After the pubs have closed."
"Very funny, Maryam. Supermarkets don't throw parties for their staff midyear. It's rare enough for them to do a Christmas party."
"Oh no. This is real. I think they're hoping that a midyear party will win them something in contract negotiations with the union. Jamie, the shop steward, said he's arguing for another eight percent but will accept six."
"And do you think the party will affect the outcome?"
"No. But it should be fun. So I'll go."
"OK. If you'll enjoy it then go. I don't have to, do I?
I could see the fear in his eyes. The idea of 60 people, bright lights, music, inconsequential conversation, and dancing was too much. He could cope with a dinner party but only if we limited the numbers to six in total. Three other couples was just too much for him.
"No. It's staff only. You don't have to be there."
I could see his face flood with relief as soon as I said the first word.
* * *
"What do you think about the party, Maryam?" Sally asked me at work the next day.
"I'm sure it'll be fun. I doubt it will make the negotiations easier."
Sally was barely 20 and often changed boyfriends. She had the figure, the hair, and something undefinable that makes her very popular with lads. I wished I'd had that at her age. Not that I'd have had the freedom to go through as many lads as her -- but still.
"What negotiations?"
"Our wages, Sally. That's why they're holding the party. To distract."
"Oh, I thought it was because they want us to have fun with the warehouse men."
"They do. But to distract us from the pay negotiations."
"Oh, I didn't know that. I've been thinking about Mike in the warehouse because my current boyfriend, Al, is boring me now. Oh, and I heard that Khenan in the warehouse is sweet on you."
"Kheenan? Me? What would he want with a 30 year old married woman when he can have his choice of younger models?"
"Don't you know?"
"Know what?"
"Khenan never goes out with younger, single women. He only dates married women. And apparently he likes you. A lot. You're so lucky! I've heard so much about him and I wish I could ride him!"
"Sally Carter! Stop saying that in the workplace. Khenan does not chase married women and won't be chasing me. We shouldn't discuss such things."
I looked at my watch.
"Oh well. Time to make sure we don't run out of Frosties on the shop floor."
* * *
"May I have the honour of the next dance?"
Khenan was smooth. He was also tall, well muscled from his physical work, and his shiny black skin shone in strange ways under the disco lights. I couldn't say no, so I took his hand and he led me onto the dancefloor.
Suddenly the music changed to a slow tune and he pulled me tight against him. I could really feel his muscles now. I felt his voice vibrate through my body as he leant down and whispered in my ear.
"You're a beautiful, married woman, Maryam. I'd like to get to know you better."
I thought about what Sally had said. Had he sought me out because he liked me or because I was married. Or the combination? Oh! This structured thinking was painful. Too much like Hammed. But what was pressing against me was nothing like Hammed.
"Why would you want to get to know me better when you could get to know someone super sexy and young, like Sally?"
"I find slightly older, married women attractive, Maryam. A woman who knows what she wants and takes it from me. You could do that."
"But I'm married!" I protested.
"I know. Perfect. Go home tonight and tell your husband that big, black Khenan would like to come over and meet you both."
Now he's said it. Mentioned his size and colour. I could feel an electrical shock as he said the words. I could feel his muscles moving smoothly beneath his clothes. And something that couldn't be a muscle but was too big to be his penis, right?
"Why?"
"Because I want you both to consent. I don't like going behind another man's back. That's not right. But if everyone gives their approval then there's no reason why I shouldn't give you a bit of extra."
"You want Hammed to want me to cheat on him?"
"Not cheating, Maryam. I want him to give you approval to fuck me."
I paused and thought again. His phrasing was important. He wanted me to actively choose and be involved. He wanted me to take him as much as he wanted to take me. And that electrical shock came again, bolstered by his scent and the feel of those smooth, strong muscles moving under his clothes. I could feel myself getting damp as we danced.
"Why do you think I'll agree to it?"
"Maryam, we've been dancing through three songs. You're still holding me tight. Tighter than when we started. I don't think your agreement is a problem. Most husbands like it when their wives get a bit of extra cock. But we won't know if Hammed is one of them until we ask."
I knew he was right. I was pretty sure that Hammed would calmly agree. Hammed had decided that he loved me and wanted to make me happy. And if having sex with Khenan would make me happier then he'd support me.
* * *
"You were really hanging onto Khenan on the dance floor last night, weren't you?"
Sally was right. I had. But I also wasn't sure I wanted her to know how turned on I was. How damp he'd made me.
"I don't know what you're implying, Sally. But there'll be none of that. Now, let's make sure we stock up the yoghurts."
"I had to use some natural yoghurt once. Danny was really big and I'm sure that was the cause. My mum said it was antibiotics but I think it was Danny's huge cock."
I looked a thunderstorm at her and walked out. We both knew that Khenan had a huge cock. Her through his reputation and me because it had been pressed against me when we danced. I could feel my knickers getting damp again as I thought about it. I really wanted to know what it would feel like inside me. What it would feel like to have his sperm shooting directly against my cervix.
I remembered that I'm not on the pill and shuddered.
* * *
We'd had to meet much later than normal because Hammed has spent the day in another city, surveying a site for a new factory he was designing.
"Pleased to meet you, Khenan." Hammed didn't look him in the eyes but he shook his hand. And if he'd said it then he meant it.
"Glad to meet you, Hammed." Khenan was probably telling the truth, too. But while Hammed saw Khenan as one of his wife's co-workers, Khenan looked at Hammed as a potential cuckold.
We sat down for tea and cake. We never have alcohol at home and Hammed never drinks any at all. I have a glass of wine from time to time, though. I'm more flexible than him. I think I am, anyway.
Khenan was direct. He explained that he'd danced with me and wanted to make me happy.