As C had said, H was allowed no questions, no explanation, just an expectation that he would accept and enjoy the situation, whatever they C and Jenny decided the situation would be. Its not that he had no choice but that he was starting to feel that he no longer wanted a choice. C had taken the two of them to the top of the hill and driven on; she was in control, H was along for the ride they were clearly picking up speed. Visions of C wrapped in another's arms filled H's idle moments but the other woman was just a figure he'd seen with her back to the camera, in the distance riding a horse.
H wanted to know what was meant when he was told that C and Jenny had plans for him but every time he tried to ask he was told not to worry his little head about it. All he was told was that C and Jenny were talking daily, and among the things they talked about were plans for their next get together. C also told him that she and Jenny were occasionally talking about what his role would be in some future situation.
Days passed and clearly C was walking on air; the chatting and planning with Jenny continued. Their next love tryst would be in a week and it would be a night of passion.
"I can't go there and sleep over wearing a scruffy old t-shirt to bed, buy me something delicate and feminine for the bedroom, something classic." C demanded.
Back to Figleaves and H's choice this time was a pale blue silk camisole with a flower lace trim along with matching French knickers. The price was eye watering but it would match her eyes and look delicious. This time the gift card read 'To C with all my love. Sweet dreams while you sleep and even sweeter passion for you and Jenny in each other's arms.' H imagined her wearing it, looking divine, sexy yet classy but he wondered how he'd feel in just under a weeks time when he knew C would be walking upstairs in Jenny's little cottage, knowing that C would be sultry and seductive for another.
In each of the following days C was bubbling when H spoke with her. Even when she was dressed plainly she looked awesome. It came from within her, a flame of passion that radiated through everything she said and did. Four days to go and she started sending H text messages in between calls. She was raising to temperature between them.
Ping: which of these dresses should I wear, followed by pictures of some of her finery.
Ping: not sure which underwear I should wear.
Ping: just shaving my legs, do you think I should do my lady parts as well.
Ping: Shave or trim?
Ping: tights or stockings?
Ping: can you order me some stockings from Amazon prime, next day delivery.
Ping: better get some hold ups as I don't have a suspender belt.
Ping: can you add a suspender belt, one to match the nice floral Freya bra and pants you gave me for Christmas.
Ping: I can't stop thinking about this weekend.
Ping: do you like these shoes.
Ping: do you think Jenny will like them.
Ping: I wish you were here so that you could rub moisturiser onto me before I go and see her.
Ping: Omg nipple hair. Perhaps a spot of Veet.
Ping: should I take flowers or wine.
Ping: can you order some flowers to be delivered tomorrow, this is the address.
Ping: its tomorrow night and I'm so excited.
Ping: I can't sleep.
Ping: tonight is the night.
Ping: sorting out my overnight bag.
Ping: just wondering how many spare knickers to pack
Ping: I can hardly eat my breakfast.
Ping: time for a soak in the bath.
Ping: a selfie of her, face surrounded by bath foam.
Ping: almost ready.
H's phone rang for a video call.
"I'm going now, don't wait up."
She looked amazing, he wanted to throw himself at her feet. Her overnight bag was behind her.
"I love you" said C and those were the last words from her for an age.
H experienced a rollercoaster of emotions in that time. From four o'clock on Friday onwards he only had his imagination of what was happening in that little cottage miles away. He desperately wanted to know more about Jenny. He'd sent carnations to the cottage and decided to explore by Google maps to see what it looked like. He imagined walking up to the front door and being welcomed in by C. He tried to imagine how the interior of the cottage looked, having only had partial views of two rooms.
H thought about the two of them sitting down to eat, chatting laughing and smiling, then perhaps relaxing together in front of the TV. Sitting close or holding hands, quietly intimate, feeling the other body moving next to them, building excitement and the increasing thrill of anticipation. Then would they decide to make the next move to the bedroom. Perhaps they would arrive next to the bed and start pulling off each other's clothes or would they slip into the bathroom in turn to change into their night clothes. What would they do together, cuddles and touching, kissing and licking, perhaps they'd take turns for pleasure or maybe play to climax together. Would there be sex toys, vibrators or something kinkier. And when they had exhausted each other they'd sleep wrapped in each other's arms.
The next morning after a torrid night of dreams, waking and wondering, fretting and dozing H dressed and waited for C to call. The morning dragged on and he pottered around the house. Lunch came and went. Nothing. C hadn't called, she hadn't been on Facebook, it was as if she'd been abducted and taken to another planet, planet ecstasy. All afternoon he found things to do to take his mind off waiting. Once evening came he simply couldn't stop his mind working overtime. Was he happy with this, was it what he wanted, everything was changing between C and himself? He had dreamed of submission, putting himself at the bottom of the relationship in favour of C's happiness. Now she was finding moments of joy in her life he was happy for her. He felt included in her joy and he knew, for the first time she really wanted him to submit. They had played submissive games before but this had an edge to it, the edge was her being in complete control and his only choice was to give her complete submission. Only she knew how this was playing out, all he could do was tag along for the ride. And what did she mean when she said that she and Jenny had been discussing his role?
And still no call, not even a text. Jenny and C would be in bed again by now and there was nothing for it but to try and sleep.
He tried to sleep late the next morning and when he woke he made myself a cup of coffee and returned to bed to drink it tucked up alone in his cotton nightie. He was guessing that C and Jenny might also be having a lazy Sunday morning, warm and close in that cottage bedroom. The phone rang with a video call from C. H's happiness returned seeing her face. She was tucked up in bed, hair in a mess, one shoulder above the duvet where I could see a pale blue strap.
"Hi, are you ok?" he asked, she smiled and nodded, looking divine.
"I can see you're wearing the camisole, does it look good on you, did Jenny like it?"