Sam pulls up in her sleek black convertible, her arrival only noticed because of the "cheep cheep" of her central locking. You here the clicking of heels on the front stairs as you scramble to finalize your makeup again, she will never know this is the 4th time this afternoon you have scrubbed your face bare and reapplied it due to the false sense that something wasn't right about it although this was brought on only by the nervousness building inside of you. You glance at the clock, 3:15 pm, plenty of time to ask her this favor before Marcus gets home. It's a surprise for Marcus, but something you have craved since meeting Sam. Your stomach drops as Sam knocks on the door but you try to fight it as you call out as best you can muster "just a sec" barely audible due to the butterflies in your stomach. One last check of the mirror and clearing the clutter of brushes and powders from your dresser into the open beauty case beside it with the sweep of an arm, a sparse thought to if any weren't closed properly before rushing to the door to greet your perspective play mate.
Your breath catches, as it always does when you gaze upon Sam, today she just looks even more angelic, her flowing dark brunette hair, slightly longer than shoulder length, parted to the side in a messy down hairdo dancing over her tattooed shoulders, angel wings that cover her entire back, you've never seen them fully but she told you what it was when you were discussing ink over lunch on one of your lunch dates, she also disclosed she has 4 other tattoos, you're not sure of their location, but boy do you like to imagine. Sam has flawless smiling complexion with her make up always on point and that is only the beginning. You notice she looks extraordinarily happy today, not that she is usually unhappy, just, more happy, as she leans in to give you a hug. What is it you have been dying to ask me she giggles as she steps through the front door as if it's her house.
Another trait you find irresistible in her, her ability to simply own her existence, the way she walks the way she talks, the world is at her feet, she is one hundred percent in control. Always. "Oh never mind that", you try to hide your anxiety and recover from the daze you were in looking at her, she doesn't seem to notice and plonks down comfortably on the couch in the lounge. You catch yourself admiring her outfit again, this tiny white number, as all of her outfits do, amplifies her beauty. Just the perfect amount of cleavage, enough to show the magnitude of her breasts but not appear slutty. The accents of red on it, matching her lipstick and her stiletto style heels, her heels making her legs look as though they go on for miles, everything about her in your eyes is perfect. You're really not sure now who your wanting this for. Oh crap, are you still staring you think before darting your eyes off her and blurting out "wine, I need wine, would you like a glass of wine?" Yep, real smooth, you think to yourself.
Whilst amused and gently taking the mickey out of you, Sam accepts your offer of wine even though she questions why you want wine at this time of day, and why you seem a little on edge, she doesn't press you too hard for information as she can sense something is up, but as your friendship with her has taught her, your usually an open book with her and you will spill the beans with her eventually so she's content to let it go for now. Sipping wine you try to make small talk with her, trying not to get lost in her hazel eyes as you have many times before, not in real life, but in your dreams, dammit your staring again, you realise and attempt to catch up with the conversation.
Sam's talking about her latest fling, when your mind begins to wonder off again, mainly because you've just noticed the edge of another tattoo on her upper thigh. You realise now you think about her possibly unhealthy amounts, especially for a married woman about to tick over her 10th wedding anniversary. You think back to this morning, where you realised there was a way to fill the void you've been craving for so long. You were standing in the shower thinking about your last lunch date with Sam, her talking about her night before with this handsome older guy she met in a bar downtown. While she told you of the details on him, your mind was lost thinking of her, how her body moved in ecstasy with touches and tastes, before you knew it, your hands were engaged with your nether regions and you were on the brink of climax, then bang on the door, Marcus, "Hunni, I'm off to work, love you!" And quick as he was gone out the door, so was the moment. It was at that moment of sheer frustration, you knew you had to do something about these urges that won't destroy your relationship with the man of your dreams. It just might mean you have to share, even though you don't really want to share either of them.
Sam has given you no indication what so ever that she is into girls, always talking about men with rock hard torsos and crew cuts never about times she spent with another woman, possibly for the best because your almost certain you would have orgasmed in your seat if she had gone into too much detail with a story like that. You thought maybe if you offer your man up, a sacrifice so to speak, you maybe, just may be able to fill your desire of being intimate with the goddess. Marcus is a good looking man, maybe not in her opinion the greatest, but maybe enough to convince her to join you both for a night of fun in your bedroom.
"I WANT YOU TO SLEEP WITH US" you blurt out, Sam was in the midst of describing her last lovers' obscure but effective oral technique, leaving barely anything to the imagination, you would have been frothing at the lips with this if you weren't so nervous about asking her, when you had your outburst. The shock and surprise obvious on her face and you start to back pedal and convince her at the same time, a bumbling mess of scrambled words flowing from your mouth in no rational order when Sam tells you to stop, a blank expression on her face. You've blown it, you know it, you start to apologize again only to be shushed again, and you sit there silently, though your mind is racing a million miles per second trying to decide if you have instantly killed a great friendship or just made it completely awkward to the point where in time it would fade to nothing. The silence deafening.
You want me to sleep with you and Marcus? She queries.
Yes. No. Sort of, yes.
Why? Sam asks you.
Oh shit, do you lie to her? The same lie you're telling yourself, that it would be a gift for Marcus for your anniversary? Sure he'd enjoy it, he's admitted to wanting to have a threesome before, but this is your fantasy, you can't convince even yourself it's for anyone but yourself, how could you convince her, you try anyway.
"Marcus has wanted a to see me with a woman for as long as I can remember," you start, "and you are the woman I", you cut yourself off fearing your little slip may have let the cat out of the bag. You start to correct yourself but Sam interrupts.
"I'm the woman you want to be with most?"
Shit, busted.