This is another follow-up to the opening of the relationship between me and my wife Amy. It's about husbands and wives and sex with others. It's a free country, folks, so if you don't like reading about that particular subject, you don't have to read any further. Editorial comments are welcome, but for those of you who feel the need to comment on lifestyle or morality issues, surely you have better things to do with your time. And, for those who claim they dislike the subject matter (and who are not actually doing the very same types of things themselves) . . . try it . . . you might like it.
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Amy and I had dated for about two years before we got married. We'd both grown up in northern California, about 50 miles from where we live now, but we didn't meet until we were juniors in college at Northern Arizona. Amy was rooming with her friend Karin at the time . . . in fact, throughout her sophomore, junior and senior years. I knew Amy had other boyfriends at the time we began dating, and I'd been dating other girls, too. This continued for the first couple of months we were going out, but as we realized we were falling in love with one another and our relationship got more serious, we stopped dating others. Neither of us asked the other to do it; we just stopped, and neither of us regretted it, I know. I was head over heels about Amy long before I thought she was that way about me, and like most young guys, I was a bit of the jealous type that didn't like the idea of my girl going out (translated into college-guy talk "having sex") with others. Times change, huh?
Any way, Amy was not known as an "easy" girl, by any means, but she wasn't a virgin when I met her, either. In fact, after we'd gone out for a little more than a month, she let me get a little more intimate with her as we went along. First, it was mutual hand jobs in my car outside the dorm, just before curfew one night. It gradually progressed to the time when we stole away for a weekend together, just the two of us, and rented a cheap motel room right there in town (it was all I could afford, and it seemed like a palace at the time). We told our parents we were going to the football team's away game with friends that weekend, so they wouldn't worry if they called and couldn't find us. We went away, all right, and we were with friends (each other), but the only "game" was what we did in the room for two full days and nights. We hadn't slept together up to that point, but I think both of us knew that's where we were headed that weekend. There was lots of heavy petting that Friday night, but still no intercourse (what a terrible word). When I awakened the next morning, though, I saw Amy lying there next to me, looking so unbelievably beautiful, and it just came out "Amy, I'm in love with you." She opened her eyes, whispered "I love you, too, Tim," and ignited a weekend of almost non-stop love-making. By Sunday night, our relationship had changed forever, and it was so much for the better. By the time we checked out of that motel, Amy and I knew every inch of each other's bodies. We did it orally, manually and the good, old-fashioned man-inside-woman way. After that weekend, there wasn't anything I wouldn't have done for Amy if she'd asked. I didn't see anyone else from that point forward, and neither did she (or so she says).
As the years have gone by, my love for her has grown but my jealousy has faded. In fact, it was the subject of my thinking about Amy being with others that caused the huge fight that ultimately led to "That Morning", but not without a lot of anger and discomfort before we got there.
A little more than a year after the evening in Tahoe that transformed our marriage, Amy called me at work and asked if I'd like to go back to campus for a nostalgic weekend of football. Northern Arizona was playing Southern Utah, a perennial loser of a program, so there was a good chance we'd win. I know Amy's not anywhere near the football fan I am, so I knew this was more for my benefit than hers. I immediately accepted her offer, and we made plans for the kids - - good old Aunt Wendy again, of course. I even suggested we stay at the same little motel from so many years ago, and I was surprised, and pleased, and disappointed, when Amy said she'd already checked that out, but it wasn't there any more. She said that Karin wanted to come, too, and that she'd invited her husband (who hadn't gone to school with us) to join us. She told me Karin sounded a little disappointed that he'd declined, but she still wanted to come. It sounded to me like Karin was on the verge of big problems with her husband, if she wasn't already there, because they never went anywhere together. I knew Amy was worried for her friend, so I didn't make my normal allusion to that night the three of us spent together at the beach six months earlier. I didn't say it didn't cross my mind, because things like that always cross my mind, but it didn't seem be appropriate to mention it at the time. Amy said that even though her husband wasn't coming, Karin had made reservations for two rooms at the nicest hotel in town, so it didn't sound like that idea was on their minds, either. Oh, well. A guy can at least dream, can't he?
Flagstaff is hard to get to from anywhere. We flew to Phoenix late Friday night and drove a rental car up there. Karin had already arrived by the time we got there, and she'd checked us in. We were both tired from the trip, so we kissed good night and collapsed into deep sleep. The cool, thin mountain air helped that sleep, and when we awakened, we were both refreshed and ready to go wherever the day might take us.
Northern Arizona has an intriguing wooden-domed stadium, and it plays most of its home games at night. The Southern Utah game was no exception, so we'd planned a late morning brunch with Karin and some other old friends from the area. After that, I'd planned to lie in the hotel room, watch football all afternoon and drink a few beers before heading for the game. Amy said she planned to hang out with friends instead of watching football, and I could come along with her if I wanted. I asked her who she was going to be "hanging out" with, and she said with a kind of coy, teasing voice: "Karin and Ted."
Ted. Now there was a name from the past. Ted was one of the guys who was hot and heavy after Amy when I first began dating her. She had dated him for a few months before we met, and continued to see him for a while even after we began to go out. I had always figured (but didn't know for sure) that she'd gotten intimate with him. He was a nice-looking, athletic guy who was a popular guy around the campus, and I guessed that he wouldn't have gone out with Amy for so long if she wasn't satisfying at least some of a man's basic needs.
Even though Amy and I had been able to talk incredibly freely about all matters involving sex for some time now, she'd still never put names with previous sexual episodes from her past, and it's never been important enough to me to pursue those names. Why was she acting like that when she mentioned Ted's name?
"Karin and Ted, huh? Is that the same Ted you used to date?" I figured as much, but I wanted to know for sure.
"Yeah, he's the one. He lives in Scottsdale. Karin ran into him in the lobby when she got here last night, and they had a few drinks and laughs in the bar before bed. And no, they didn't go to bed together." How about that? My wife knew me so well now that she was answering my question (in itself a rare event) even before I asked it.
"So, how is good old Ted?"
"I don't know. I haven't seen him yet. But he's going to meet me and Karin in the bar right after brunch, and then we'll probably go up to her room to talk for a while. We'd come up here, but I didn't want to interrupt your precious football games," she teased me. "Are you sure you don't want to join us?"
"Call me when you're ready to leave the bar. The Stanford-USC game should be over by then," I said.
"You and your football," she replied in a voice that could easily have been mistaken for semi-upset. But I knew she wasn't when she continued: "Sounds good. Enjoy the game. I'll call you later." And off she went.
The brunch was fun. There were probably 20 of us there, at one time or another, and it was interesting to catch up on the families and careers of our old classmates. I left right before the Stanford game started on TV. Amy stayed and talked.
An hour and a half later, Amy called. Ted had shown up, and they were leaving the bar, she said, headed to Karin's room. She sounded a little bit giddy, as if they'd had more than a pop or two after lunch. "OK, I'll be there in a little while," I said. The Stanford game only had a couple of minutes to go, and my bet with my neighbor - - for lunch the next week - - was on the line.
Stanford won, luckily, and as soon as the game was over, I went to Karin's room to find Amy. She met me at the door and gave me a big kiss. I walked inside to find Karin and Ted sitting on the couch. We exchanged "hellos" and Ted got up to shake my hand. I was surprised to find that despite my sexual open-mindedness with Amy and all we'd been through recently, I still felt a twinge of jealousy when I shook his hand. I could tell from looking at Amy that she was perfectly relaxed and at ease with the situation, though, so I quickly relaxed, too. I grabbed a beer from the cooler against the wall and sat down in the chair by the window that faced back into the room. Amy came over and sat on the arm of the chair, leaning up against me with her arm around me. I could feel her soft breasts against my shoulder.
"How was the game?" Amy asked.
"Bob owes me lunch," I said with a smile. "What have you all been up to?"
"Just talking and reminiscing, you know, the good old days," Karin said.
"It's too bad Michael couldn't be here," I ventured to Karin. I guess a little part of me wanted to see what kind of reaction I might get from her. I wasn't trying to be mean, but just to see if I could tell where she stood with her husband.
Her reaction was a little surprising. She smiled and said "actually, I'm very happy he didn't come. I've been needing to let my hair down a little, and a nice weekend away, with good friends and good drinks and a hotel room all to myself is just what I've been needing."
"So you're enjoying yourself so far, huh, Karin?"
"That's right, Tim. I am. Surprised?"
"No, no . . . of course not. I'm just concerned for my wife's friend, that's all," I said.
"Thanks, Tim . . . I mean it . . . but I'm OK, really. This has been fun for me so far."
Amy popped up: "So, Tim, we've decided not to ruin her good time by letting a little thing like the football game tonight interfere. Karin's not going after all . . . but don't worry, I'll still go . . . if you want me to." I could tell Amy wasn't all that fired up about it. She was having too much fun with her friends, it sounded like to me.
"Ted gave his tickets to a client of his architectural firm, so he's not going, either," Karin said. Ted's firm had apparently designed the stadium and had received a sky box in the dome as part of its fee. He got to see all of the games, so missing one wouldn't be a big loss for him.
"So what are you guys going to do?" I asked.
"Well, actually, Tim . . . that sorta depends on you," Karin said as she got up off the couch and walked toward me. Amy got up at the same time and stepped aside so Karin could sit down where she'd been. What was going on here?
