Dustin "Dusty" Aldrich came home from work just after four on a cold January afternoon. He hung up his reflective safety coat and stepped into the kitchen, where Laurel, his wife of twenty years, was setting the table for four. She gave him a quick smile and went about her business.
"Did I forget a dinner date?" he asked.
"No," she replied without making eye contact. "Sit down. I'll tell you after we talk about a few things."
"Hey, look," he offered, pulling out a chair. "I'm sorry about last night. I should have just shut Tom down from the start. It just seemed like maybe you were—"
"Interested?" she asked, sitting beside him. "How many times do I have to say no? I like Chad and Angela. They're good folks, and I like going to their house, but the rest of that crowd is sneaky. I can't stand Tom or Erik, and I don't like their wives. They have no respect for their own partners."
"Come on," he argued. "So what if they play a few risqué games after hours? They play truth or dare with sex toys or spin the bottle for a beejay. It's all done in a big group with everyone watching and laughing along."
"And you want me to do that? Suck off Tom with everyone watching?"
"They don't even finish. Candice told us about that. It's out in the open and only for fun."
"In the open? I went into the guestroom to get our coats and found Celina kissing Erik on the bed."
"Just kissing, though, right?"
"What do you mean, just kissing? You said it was only for fun! They were in a bedroom, Dusty. No one was watching or laughing along. They snuck off together. That's called cheating." She let out a sigh. "I'm thirty-nine," she whined. "I didn't swap sex partners when I was in college. Now I have a kid in college." Bowing her head, she asked, "Are you looking for an excuse to be with other women because I'm getting old?"
"Old?" he asked incredulously. "Look, I got a little carried away, but I was just looking for fun and games. I really thought you'd get a kick out of it, too. Laurel, you'd have been the prettiest girl there. You're as gorgeous as the day I met you."
Dustin was being sincere on that count. Laurel was downright cute. She could pass for a girl ten years her junior. Many a younger head turned her way whenever she stepped onto an elliptical trainer at the health club. Her long black hair framed blowtorch-blue eyes and full red lips. She was a thin but healthy five-foot-six, with firm, perky breasts ample enough to adorn her frame, but not so large as to steal the show.
"Thanks," she acknowledged, squeezing his hand. "But I think we need to make some new couple friends...ones I can be comfortable around."
"I suppose that's why the table's set for four."
"Can't put anything past you," she jested, kissing his cheek. "You must remember Cindy, my friend from work. You saw her a few weeks ago at the Christmas party."
"I remember. You two could be sisters. Please tell me it's not her coming over."
"That's the other thing I need to talk to you about. She and her husband—"
"Oh, no! She married that Evan guy. She can come, but not him. I stole you from him."
"You never even met him," she argued. "I dated him in college and we broke up when I met you. He doesn't hold a grudge. He got Cindy, for cryin' out loud."
"A girl who looks like you! He missed you so much he—"
"Stop," interrupted Laurel. "They're going to be our houseguests for a week or so."
"What? I just said I don't want him over for dinner. Now you want me to live with him?"
Laurel stood up and stepped behind him. "Dusty," she pleaded, rubbing his shoulders. "The house beside theirs caught fire and their place got heat and water damage. They need a place to stay while it gets fixed."
"So let 'em stay at a hotel. They can get romantic with each other and he doesn't need to be in the same house as my wife."
"You were trying to pass me around at a party...for fun, as you put it."
"And you caught two people kissing in the bedroom. What if he tries that with you?"
She kissed his ear. "Don't be a baby," she tendered. "With Samantha at college, we have a queen size bed doing nothing." She grabbed his hand and squeezed with her long fingers. "Cindy's my friend," she insisted. "You'd do yourself well to make some new friends, too."
"Alright," he huffed. "But Evan better not make goo-goo eyes at you."
"And you better not make 'em at Cindy, ya' big lug. Now go start the grill. They're on the way over now."
Their houseguests arrived within the hour. Evan was tall and beefy, with sandy blond hair and thick stubble on his broad jaw. Dustin took a few minutes to acclimate to the idea that Laurel wouldn't find the fire of her wiles rekindling—the guy was a hunk. But he soon dropped his apprehensive pretense as they laughed, drank and played cards late into the night. The men talked about how much alike their wives looked. Evan joked that he had searched high and low for another Laurel after she left him—a comment Dustin fought to ignore.
****
The late evening took a toll on Dustin. He worked as a field engineer, and went to work groggy the next morning. Walking through a construction site, he stumbled over some debris and fell forward. Trying to stay upright, he grasped an unsecured scaffold frame and lost his balance as it shifted. A searing pain shot through his neck and left shoulder as he fell to his buttocks.
Laurel met him at the hospital just as the doctor was detailing his X-rays. "I was expecting acromio-clavicular separation," she explained. "But apparently it's just a surpraspinatious—"
"English, doc," urged Laurel.
"Nothing's broken. He pulled a muscle...a big one, maybe inflamed a tendon. It'll hurt like heck for a day, maybe two, but it'll heal fast."
"Shouldn't he have something for pain?"
"As long as you can drive him home, I'll give him a shot of muscle relaxer with an anti-inflammatory agent. He'll be sleepy and groggy all night, but by tomorrow, Ibuprofen and moist heat should be enough."
That night, Laurel moved Dustin's recliner just to the left of the sofa in hopes he could join the after-dinner conversation. She propped him up and threw an afghan over him, then ordered pizza. Dustin ate a slice, but lost his appetite after that.
Cindy sat at the left end of the couch with Evan to her right. Laurel strutted in with a bottle of wine and three glasses.
"Want me to move so you can sit near Dusty?" asked Cindy.
"Don't bother," replied Laurel. "He's in la la land." She set the glasses on the coffee table. "Sorry big guy," she offered. "No drinks for you." After pouring three glasses, she plopped down on the far right of the sofa.
"The last thing I need is wine," grumbled Dustin through the drowsy side effects. Minutes later, he nodded off to sleep to the sound of chat and laughter from Laurel and their guests.
He awoke to the sound of the girls giggling. They sat on each side of Evan, just as before, but they were both in their nightgowns. Evan had changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt. Three empty bottles of wine sat on the coffee table.
"Hey babe," squeaked Laurel, looking over to Dustin. "You awake?"
Dustin didn't answer. He wasn't sure why, but he wanted a chance to eavesdrop. Laurel always kept guarded about her time with Evan. Perhaps, he figured, she would open up a bit among casual friends. His medicated state would provide good cover. He found he could peer through his eyelashes just enough to see without being detected.
Laurel grabbed the remote and asked, "Anyone mind if I watch some television? Dustin and I like the show that's coming on. There'll be thousand jokes, and about ten of 'em will actually be funny. Am I right, Dusty?"
He sat with his eyes half closed, looking through his lashes, but still didn't answer.
"Wow," she griped. "That shot has him snookered." She pointed the remote at the television and gasped. "Omigawd!" she exclaimed.
"Shit!" blurted Evan. "Laurel, I'm so sorry. Y-you guys were gone all day."
"It was my idea," confessed Cindy. "We both had the day off, so..."
Dustin couldn't turn to see the screen without giving himself away, but he could hear the sounds of sex play.
"I didn't even know we got this channel," droned Laurel.
"Ten bucks says your husband does," chimed Cindy. "Don't turn it off. Let's watch for a few and see what happens."
"I think I already know what'll happen," replied Laurel. Leaning forward, she turned and looked across at Dustin. "Hey babe," she teased, "there's porn on. Wanna watch?"
"Y-you can turn it off," Evan pleaded.
"Not so fast," purred Cindy, grabbing the remote to lower the volume. "I don't think Laurel's ever seen a good porn flick."
"But Dusty—"
"He's asleep," murmured Laurel dismissively. Her eyes widened as she blinked. "That girl looks uncomfortable riding him backwards like that," she noted, folding her bare legs beneath her.
To Dustin's surprise, Cindy giggled and reached across Evan, pulling Laurel against his right shoulder. Even more surprising, Laurel stayed put. Dustin saw her take a quick glance down at Evan's crotch, then peek over at him.
A bolt of anxiety speared through him as Cindy grabbed Laurel's hand and placed it on Evan's chest. Evan took a quick look at Dustin, then turned his gaze back to the screen. It got Dustin's angst up, but curiosity had gripped him. He stayed put and peered on through squinting eyes.
On some deeper level, Dustin knew the real reason he wasn't charging over to stop them. It was the same reason he was spying on them. He hoped Laurel would experiment. He wanted nothing more than for her to agree to the partner sharing that took place at their friends' houses once a month. Perhaps she would be more open-minded with a closer friend like Cindy tempting her. He didn't like it happening with Evan, but Cindy seemed comfortable. His biggest fear was Laurel and Evan going off alone.
A squeaky voice begged, "Come inside me! Come deep inside me!"
"Why the hell is she lifting up?" asked Laurel, dropping her hand on Evan's thigh. "She said deep inside her. I can see half his boner."
