But What If You Like it?
They'd danced around it for years. They were both married when they met, but the attraction was undeniable. So they'd had a torturous, emotional yet completely non-physical affair for years, one that at the end managed to bring them even closer together than they'd thought was possible. They shared things with each other that they hadn't shared with anyone else. Truths they wouldn't
dream
of sharing with anyone else. It was rare, it was wonderful.
But they both wanted more.
Now here they were, years later, both single (well, kind of) and ready to give themselves the opportunity they'd been denied for so long. Nicole had worn her favorite dress, the one that showed off her tits and tight, muscular ass. Mike was in a (very rare for him) suit and the cut made him look handsome and possibly even mature.
Nicole had gotten there first. They greeted each other with a warm hug and sat down at the quiet table in the upscale restaurant Mike had chosen. A long way from the first place they'd been to together, a Hookah bar that a much younger coworker dragged them to, saying it was THE place to be seen in Atlanta, not realizing that for them, being "seen" was the last thing on their minds.
They sat for long moments, not touching the menus or looking around, just drinking the other in. This was overdue. This was something they'd both waited for. This was perfect.
Nicole broke the silence. "So" she began, "Is single life everything you hoped it would be?"
Mike chuckled. During their extensive non-dating period, they had shared many "when I'm single" scenarios with each other. He'd been married before and had confided to Nicole that he would never again be monogamous, let alone married. To him, being single meant being able to pursue EVERY relationship he wanted, openly, with everyone in the know and, if not completely in love with it, at least okay with it.
His divorce had come 6 months before Nicole's, so he'd been "out there" for a while, and he was very happy with how it was going. But he remembered her saying first that she could "never share anyone", though as their relationship evolved and she came to understand his motivations and, more importantly, his capacity to care for, and even love, multiple women at the same time, that stance later shifted to "It's fine, I understand it for YOU. I just wouldn't want to know about it".
So, he grinned that dumb grin he had that for some reason women liked, and asked "How much do you want to know?" And true to form, Nicole smiled, stared straight ahead with a semi-serious look on her face and said "Absolutely...nothing". At that, Mike broke into laughter. It was the perfect answer, the perfect way to break the ice. All the fear and tension he'd been holding in melted away. Nicole was here, she got it, and things were going to be ok.
She grinned, too, but then got serious. "That's not my real answer, actually". Mike looked at her in surprise, opened his mouth, but then shut it. She continued... "I've been seeing a therapist for years, but last year, as my divorce approached, I found a new one who specializes in...unconventional relationships. Polyamory, Ethical Non-Monogamy, a lot of the stuff that...you talked about" she finished weakly. And even though her skin was a beautiful coffee color, Mike could see she was blushing. She looked into her lap, gathering her thoughts. Just then the server appeared, and the two of them ordered drinks. As soon as the server had left, Mike reached across the table and gently took Nicole's hand in his. "Go on" he said. "Just like before - you can tell me anything. No judgements". Nicole knew he meant that. Back when they worked together, she had told him tales of her (mostly happily) misspent youth. The good, bad and ugly. Her stories of growth and awakening. The achievements she was most proud of. Later, she shared her struggles with depression and drugs, coming out to herself and later others as "less than straight", and what it meant for her to have kids at an early age. He had just listened, offering encouragement and the occasional hug. She knew she could trust him. It also helped that she was pretty sure he'd like what his therapist had suggested.
So she gathered her thoughts and just said it. "It's called immersion therapy. It's usually used to treat fears - you're claustrophobic, so you get in a sensory deprivation tank. You can't swim, so you stand in a pool up to your chin until you're comfortable, and then they teach you. Like that". Mike nodded.
"So for me and you..." Nicole began, then paused. 'Out with it, Nicole!' she told herself. "So for me and you that means that I HAVE to know everything. Who you're with, how often, what you do, if you...love them". She ended the sentence almost whispering. She felt raw, and vulnerable. What would he say?
To Mike, it was the perfect answer. But he didn't want to seem overeager. "Are you sure?" he asked. Nicole nodded. "Ok then...but not here. Take a walk with me after dinner?". Nicole said "sure" in a way that sounded lighthearted, but she could already feel the butterflies in her stomach. The meal was amazing, the drinks were delicious, and the next few hours flew by. When it was time to leave, she asked Mike where they were heading. "We'll take my car" was all he said. It was a short trip, maybe 5 minutes, and then they were parked in front of a small urban park. "This is where I used to call you from, when I was on my walks" Mike said. Not that Nicole could see anything, it was pitch black, with only a few lights along the walking path, but she remembered the calls and they brought back fond memories, making her immediately feel even closer to him.
They walked quietly for a few minutes, just enjoying the night air and the tension between them. Just when Nicole had almost gotten to the point where she couldn't take it anymore, Mike started talking. He told her about Maryanne, a lost love from college who he had reconnected with, only to find out that she lived only an hour away in South Carolina. He told her about Wendy, a longtime friend who was also recently divorced and had flown down from Connecticut for a visit. She had stayed a week, a week in which Mike had found out that she was MUCH more sexually experienced than he'd remembered. He told her about Jenn, a conservative looking, seemingly uptight woman, very prim and proper, who discovered a love of having her ass eaten. Mike got off on making this "lady" beg him to make her cum by sticking his tongue in her ass while he played with her pussy, clit, and nipples. Each of these stories made Nicole's stomach clench, her worst fears were being realized, and yet...something about hearing it laid out like this was oddly comforting. Mike wasn't bragging, he was just matter-of-factly describing three women that he was at least somewhat in love with, all for different reasons. And Jenn was the only one who lived close by. So, it turned out there wasn't a "threat" so much as there was just a different way of living that Mike was making work for himself. And his...evocative descriptions of the sexual dynamic in those relationships was starting to make her horny. She could blame her nipples hardening on the cool night air, but her pussy was definitely wet, and she wasn't quite sure why that was happening.