It had happened. But after all the initial sexual excitement of it all, I realized I had some serious misgivings about it. I think it was this initial reaction on my part which dampened this area of our sex lives for years to come. My wife had been on a visit back to her family home in L.A., and had finally had sex with a guy she had gone out with for years prior to us getting married. At first the whole idea of it had excited both of us, me more than her. And as we spoke about it possibly happening, she began to warm up to the idea more and more. Possibly as a result of her realizing that I seemed to be okay with the idea.
But to be honest, I never thought she'd actually go through with it. I mean, I thought she'd meet him, flirt, perhaps even kiss, but I never deep down thought she would go beyond that barrier. Yet she did. And she enjoyed it. So did I. At least I had while she was telling me about it. Very exciting, perhaps too much so.
She followed up that initial assignation with plans to spend the following weekend with him in San Diego, prior to returning back home. We discussed it for a few days, and the more excited she got, the more misgivings I began to have about the whole thing. There were ramifications I never considered beyond the whole sensuality/excitement aspect of it. As our conversations continued over the week, I kept trying to focus on the sex side of the issue, but I'm sure my tone became more and more uncertain as the week progressed. At least my wife, Bridget seemed to pick up on something, for she became tentative about the weekend as well. By the day before she was supposed to get on the train down to San Diego, I had asked her not to go.
The positions were now reversed. Whereas in the beginning of all this, I had been the one more in favor of it happening. Now, it was her turn to say that she had been looking forward to the weekend, that it was just the excitement, that it wouldn't affect us. Ah, how the worm turns. I reluctantly agreed.
As I waited for her call on Sunday night, to tell me all about her trip, rather than the sexual anticipation which had been rampant in my body the entire previous weekend, there was only trepidation. Well, that's not entirely true, there was still a part of me which couldn't wait to hear all the details, but the fear far outweighed any pleasure.
So the call came. She hadn't gone to see him. She had merely gone away with her sister for the weekend. And no, nothing had happened. Part of me was so relieved. Yet part of me remained disappointed. We spoke about what happened in Los Angeles over the next two years, using it to increase our arousal, but neither one ever suggested we take it beyond the fantasy stage again. But it did arouse both of us.
Bridget was involved theater over the years. And had been part of this one theater company for a couple of years, when they started to open their own theater space. I had been to one or two of their parties, and had watched several scenes and plays over the course of the year, so I was familiar with many of the theater company's members. I knew there was this one guy who Bridget found (as did many other women) simply drop dead gorgeous. His name was Rich. About 6' 2" tall, dark hair and eyes, great body. He and Bridget had done several scenes together, and they were always getting together to rehearse, or read lines, or sometimes simply to go to the gym together and work out.
They became friends, and at times I wondered if something more, but Bridge ensured me that Rich was too skittish, too shy. Which was part of what attracted women to him.
Anyway, it came to pass that her theater company was throwing a benefit at their new digs this one January weekend. Bridget looked great (as usual) in this long gown made of some clingy cottony fabric. While long, it hugged every curve, accentuating her assets. It had a long, wide slit up the left leg, stopping only several inches below her hip, and the neckline was a wide V, plunging between her breasts. She looked incredibly edible. Little did I know then, that it would be this night which would change the course of our lives forever.
When we arrived at the party, it was already in full swing. We did the obligatory rounds of hellos, and ended up by the bar, sipping our wine. About an hour went by (and several glasses of wine), and I noticed that Bridge kept keeping track of where Rich was. Who, for the most part, was by himself. He was that odd combination of extreme good looks and yet an earnest shyness (probably born of him not being considered as good looking when he was growing up).
I commented on his being alone to Bridge, who mentioned that she felt bad for him. I asked her if she wanted to ask him to dance. She seemed surprised, "You really wouldn't mind?"
"Should I?"
"Of course not", she replied, as she shielded my body with hers from the rest of the people there, and slid her hand over my crotch. "Hmmm. Is that for later?"
"Of course", I said, smiling.
"Does it turn you on to think of me dancing with him?"
