"I think I love him," she said, looking at me with sad eyes and the sweetest face I'd ever seen. An apology was in her soft voice and she smiled.
"You think?" I said, my heart breaking with an tremendous thud.
"I love him," she corrected. "I didn't want to, but it happened. I still love you. I don't want to hurt you. Could you share?"
"I guess I'll have to," I said. "Do we trade off, or each get a body part?" I joked, not knowing if I could stand the hurt of the punch line.
"I don't know," she said, her sad eyes saying she neither understood or had the answer. "You used to say you'd like to see me with another man," she said, giving my words back to me so I could choke on them. "I don't know how it works, but some people make it work. I guess we'll just have to see."
My wife was telling me she was in love with my best friend, and to make it worse, she also loved me and didn't want our life together to end. What a dilemma. What a shock. I could get pissed and stomp out of her life, or I could kiss her and share her sex, her body, and her life. I had absolutely no idea what I was about to do, although I did know I didn't want to lose the part of her I could lose if I handled things poorly.
"I guess the three of us have to get together and talk it out," I said. "What a conversation that's going to be." We sat and looked at one another for a few minutes without speaking, then we hugged and even cried. "Whatever I get of you, I don't want to lose," I said. "I'll do whatever I have to do to keep even part of you," I told her, wiping my tears with my wrist.
I'm not going to tell you our three-way talk between Jake and Claire and me was easy, after all he was not only gaining a woman to love and have sex with, he was also gaining a husband to share her with. Claire told Jake we wanted to talk, although I didn't know if she'd told him what the nature of the talk was. I had no idea whether or not he had any knowledge of what was in the air, that she wanted to tell him she was in love with him and wanted the two of us to share her. "What's going on?" he asked with a shrug.
"Claire has something to tell you," I said, laying the ground work, trying to get things started.
"We've talked about it," she said, looking over at me. "He knows how I feel." He nodded and waited for her to go on.
"Ah, sure, I guess he would," I said, realizing she had already talked to him, understanding that things were already moving ahead. "So, I guess you've talked and have come to some decision." They both nodded. "So I'm just here to hear what's going to happen," She reached over and took my hand and nodded.
"Do you think you could share? I mean would you be all right with that, the two of you?" Speaking to both of us, her voice was soft and unsure. "A lot of people do," she said. "Even some societies are structured that way, two men, one woman., or one man, many women."
"So would you fuck both of us, alternating from one to the other?" I said, trying to go for funny and hold my anger in check but failing.
"I would spend time with both of you," she said. "I love you both."
Strangely, as she talked I felt a new emotion I didn't understand. There was a strange excitement in me that went against almost everything else I was feeling. Could our lives go on and could I accept this extraordinary notion of two men sharing one woman, up to now my woman. I loved her, that was clear, and I didn't want to lose her, that was also clear.
I realized then that I had no choice. This was Claire's choice, and like Sophie it was hers to make and ours to accept. If I wanted to be in her life, I had to accept her judgement. I had to share her with Jake and accept it, or I had to give her up to him and let her go. Could I handle her having sex with Jake and then me, without it devastating me and making me crazy? Of course I could. I had to. I had fantasized about the same thing for years, enjoyed the delicious naughtiness of it, the uncertainty of it. But this was real life, reality that I could not control, could not transform into a fantasy, but there was no other option. Not one I wanted to accept.
The next week I was helping her move her things to Jake's and on the second load I carried an armful of her clothes into his house and I looked at the bed where they would be sleeping. It gave me a rush to look at it, and I shuttered with excitement at the thought. She would be living in that bed with my best friend and I would occasionally find my way there for some sex and some abbreviated time with my wife.
I met the neighbors, a young family from Nebraska, in their early thirties, and my wife and her lover were introduced as the new neighbors, Claire and Jake. I was introduced as their friend Dave. When everything of hers was in the apartment, Claire stripped down and worked nude as Jake and I moved furniture, emptied boxes, and put things away.
That night we ate at the dining room table and talked about their future. She was clearly very happy, and her happiness was infectious. I even began to lighten up and feel glad for them, even imagining them cuddled in the big bed with their arms and legs entangled, engaging in tender and loving sex.
When I left I kissed her at the door and held her longer than necessary. "I hope the two of you have a great life together," I said, meaning every word, although I still felt the sting of the loss.
One of the major changes that occurred in Claire after she moved in with Jake was she became close to a full-time nudist, explaining that her body was who she was, and even though Jake was pretty casual about being without clothes, it was Claire who was naked most of the time. They began going to a nude beach and joined a nudist club in a town a few miles away. She even spent time naked with Sue, the young woman next door, who seemed to also adopt the nudist lifestyle. It was a welcome change, since I loved being able to admire my wife's naked body, and I enjoyed being able to strip off my clothes whenever I was with them and I loved seeing her naked as much as possible. I am not sure why the change in her, although I liked it.
