Meeting Of Minds

I looked around casually, as I sipped my drink. The bar was moderately full -- it was a little early for the Friday night rush, I guess. I was in one of the nicer bars at the edge of town; the sort that people go to for a romantic meal and drink, but one where the binge-drinking Friday night mob were discouraged. Far across the room, at a table facing me, sat my best friend, Tamsin, her blond hair and permanent smile lighting up the corner like a beacon.

'Good job we came here', I told myself -- anywhere else two single women would have been like a fly magnet to the predatory males of the town. Having said that, I knew we wouldn't get away with it much longer -- so where was he?

The 'he' in question wasn't my husband. In fact, I was here to meet another man!

I'd done this before -- twice, in fact. Lest you jump to conclusions, however, I'd better say that my husband, George, knew all about it!

I'm Beth. George and I married eight years ago, having dated all through high school. I suppose we were both fairly naïve back then -- certainly inexperienced -- and it had taken us a few years to grow together before we had ever questioned our own innocence. Basically, we had evolved to the point where we now knew each others' real needs and motivation. In short, we had realised that George liked to think about me with other guys -- sex, I mean.

I suppose when I say it like that, it seems like switching on a light but, while it might have been just as illuminating, the process had, in fact, been very slow and drawn out. Of course, that realisation, and its logical conclusion, had been years apart, and it was only several months back that I'd finally given in to George's wish for me to actually 'be' with another guy. In reality, we'd gone through all the stages you might expect, from my absolute refusal, several stages of inducement (pleading -- call it what you will), my considering it and seeking reassurance, to finally agreeing.

Initially, I hadn't understood George's thinking. After all, he was enough for me and, sure, I'd been flattered by other men's attentions -- even slightly tempted, I suppose, but I'd never have seriously considered going with anyone else. If I'm honest, I'd have to say that he wore me down! After so much discussion, I felt that I'd finally begun to see what he saw in it, although it wasn't really that appealing to me. And -- truthfully -- there was a little curiosity on my part!

But I'd never been with anyone else. Yeah, there'd been opportunities, I suppose, both before and after I'd met George, but he was the one -- the 'best fit' -- the one I was comfortable with. So why rock the boat?

Anyway, facts are facts, and I'd finally agreed. Not without qualification, I have to say. Firstly, I didn't feel I could do it actually in front of George, so he was going to have to settle for me reporting back afterwards. I suppose I'd hoped that this would put him off, but he gladly agreed, explaining that this would be just like the stories we told each other from time to time, but that it would be so much more intense because he would 'know'!

I also wanted to say who it would be, and this proved difficult. I didn't want a friend or acquaintance -- anyone who could bring things back to our doorstep in any way. Demolishing my last line of defence, George helpfully offered to help me search the internet. I wasn't too computer literate, but it wasn't rocket science, and I soon found myself trawling through a website full of prospects (most of whom I wouldn't want to be anywhere near). That's where Tamsin came in. She is my best friend -- of the ilk that you can share serious secrets with, and it wasn't long before I had her looking at these websites with me.

Tamsin is unbelievable! A drop-dead gorgeous girl with a figure I'd kill for, long blonde hair and a sunny personality. Without even noticing it herself, she was a man magnet. Which made it all the more odd that she could never seem to find a permanent partner. She'd dated constantly through school, and the years since, but never for any length of time. When I'd asked her why she couldn't seem to land a guy, she just said that none of them suited her, and that she was searching for that one, special person, but that there didn't seem to be many of her 'type' around. I knew she'd tried lots of different things - clubs, concerts, dancing - in fact, she'd actually used dating sites before, and that's what allowed me the benefit of her perceived wisdom that the best sites weren't free and should come personally recommended.

We sort of strayed a little, I guess, because we were soon looking at some of the dating sites that she had used previously. It wasn't long before we'd agreed on a nice-looking guy just a year younger than me. He was a computer engineer, who worked on intensive projects for weeks on end before getting leave. That sodded up his social life, which was the reason he wanted to short-circuit the normal process and meet someone quickly.

To cut a long story short, I entered into correspondence with Mike, as he was called, and found that he was taking a realistic view of the whole exercise. If it worked, fine -- if not, then he hoped to have fun along the way. This assuaged any guilt I felt about having my own motives, particularly as he was clearly such a nice guy.

But so was Ted Bundy -- so Tamsin and I had arranged a situation similar to the one of this evening. She had been there, watching from the periphery, as we met and talked. Later in the evening, I'd felt confident enough to introduce her to him, and she'd accompanied us both back to his hotel room, where he'd had a suite with a separate bedroom. In the morning, Tamsin and I had left together -- part of our pact to maintain security. Mike hadn't expressed any thoughts of having us both -- if he had, he'd have been sorely disappointed but, in any event, there were no complaints!

The evening with Mike had been a great success -- particularly with George, when I had crawled in beside him the next morning and slowly whispered each detail of my seduction and ravagement throughout the previous night. It had done our sex life a power of good for several months, and I was quite satisfied with how things had worked out -- until George wanted me to do it again!

I guess I'd hoped it would be a one-off, and I tried everything to persuade George we should leave it at that. He agreed, but I could see it eating away at him, and I felt guilty. Cue a discussion with my best friend, and I capitulated!

In fact, the second time was easier. That had been two months back and, now, here I was again!

"Beth? Hi, I'm Graham." He stood smiling down at me, more handsome than his photo credited. "Have you waited long?"

I smiled up at him "Not really, I've only been here a minute or two."

He laughed. "Great, I'm glad I didn't keep a lady waiting. Would you like a drink?"

As he departed to get me a Vodka, I glanced across at Tamsin. One eye on Graham, she surreptitiously gave me the thumbs up. Clearly, he met with her approval!

Graham turned out to be everything his correspondence had led us to believe. I say us, because both George and Tamsin had been party to our exchange of communications. In fact, Tamsin's experience had been invaluable in framing just what to say and what not to say. She was a natural at that sort of thing -- personally, I'd never been adept at the social discourse leading up to a relationship -- sex, if I'm to be blunt. With George, that had never been an objective in itself, as things had just flown naturally towards our pairing. I'd never had to think about it!

I found myself liking Graham more and more as we talked, my only concern being my afore-mentioned inadequacy. Partly because of this, I soon felt it was time to introduce Tamsin to him, and called her over. We were honest, and explained what she was doing there. Graham was very understanding -- he quite understood the situation and didn't blame us for protecting ourselves.

The evening wore on, with us all getting along like a house on fire. Soon, I knew it was time to take things elsewhere. As previously discussed, Graham had booked a hotel room (he was from out of town), and I suggested we might go back there. Of course, there was the traditional paired visit to the Ladies Powder Room before we could leave -- yes, we really do that!

"What do you think?" I asked Tamsin.

Her face lit up "I rather like him, what do you think?"

"OK, I guess."

"Well, that's not exactly a ringing endorsement is it?"

"Oh -- you know -- he's OK. Not exactly my type I suppose!"

"Like George you mean? Honestly Beth, you leave me speechless sometimes!" Tamsin thought for a minute. "OK -- When we get out of here, I'll do the talking."

In fact, it was easy. Tamsin took Graham to one side and explained that, in fact, she was Beth. I was Tamsin, and that was the final part of our 'security blanket.' It was easy for her to convince him -- after all, she'd been in on all the correspondence. Slightly to my chagrin, Graham actually seemed pleased at the new circumstances in which he found himself. Certainly, he seemed a happy man the next morning when he and Tamsin emerged from his bedroom and woke me from my slumbers on the settee in the adjoining suite.

That only left one problem -- George!

But, think about it, how would he know? I crept into our bed as usual, whispered in his ear, as usual, and was roundly fucked, as usual. Not a bad outcome for the evening, I felt!

And -- perhaps you're there already -- the same outcome! Because, in fact, I've still never slept with anyone but my George!

Mike, you ask! -- I bottled out, and Tamsin saved me in the same way (at little cost to herself). Once I knew that I couldn't do it, there was only one way to keep George happy. He gets all the build up, I dress up for the 'event' and disappear for an intended rendezvous, returning with detailed information about the size and nature of my despoiler, and what he did to me through the small hours.

Do I feel guilty? Not a bit! Tamsin is more than happy to accommodate me (or them, I should say). Everyone wins, and it's only a small, tiny white lie. After all, you don't really believe your wife has all those orgasms, do you?