I closed my eyes, and knocked quickly on the hotel room door, taking a step back as my heart raced with anxious excitement. After a few seconds – seconds that seemed like half an hour -- the door opened, and I saw James smiling, gesturing for me to join him in his suite.
The late afternoon sun shone brightly through the suite's sheer curtains, and I looked around the room – this was apparently some sort of business suite, as the room we were in had no bed, only a rectangular conference table with six chairs around it, and a pair of sofas closer to the window. Another door, now partially closed, led into another room – the bedroom, perhaps?
"I'm sorry if the room's a bit warm," James said graciously as he shut the door behind me. "I've got the air conditioning on but I'm afraid the western exposure means it will be a while before the room's cooled down."
I stood nervously, eagerly anticipating
something
...but what?
"Here, Tammy, allow me to take your jacket." James helped remove my jacket –
the perfect gentlemen
, I thought – and carefully hung it in a closet near the hallway door. He walked around the conference table to a bar against one wall. "White wine, is that right?" he asked casually. I gulped, looking at him, and then at the room around me. "Um, yes, that...that would be lovely," I said.
I watched as he poured a glass of wine for me, and then tossed a handful of ice cubes into a lowball glass, topping it off with a small bottle of what appeared to be bourbon. He walked to the table, handed me the wine glass, then raised his glass in a toast.
"Here's to getting to know each other better," he said with a smile as he clinked my glass with his, then gestured for me to sit down at the conference table. My heart pounded as I took a sip of the wine, somewhat surprised that James seemed to be treating my visit as some sort of business meeting.
I sat at one end of the conference table, and smoothed my skirt over my thighs, acutely aware of the growing tension between my legs. James sat down in the middle of the long side of the table, looked at me, and took a sip of his drink.
"So Tammy, was I correct about the anklet? That your husband likes to share you with other men?"
Here we go...
"Ummm, yes...yes," I stammered. "Jack – my husband – gets turned on by the idea of, um, me being with...ah...other men," I said, stumbling. I took a sip of my wine, trying to regain my composure.
"But certainly you couldn't guess that solely by the anklet, could you?" I asked. "I mean, there are lots of women who just wear anklets because they like wearing anklets."
James chuckled. "Certainly true, Tammy, certainly true." He took another sip of his whiskey, and set the glass on the table.
"With most shared wives, though, the first thing I notice is how she carries herself, there's a certain poise or a certain confidence that other women don't have. It's tough to describe, but easy to notice, once you know what to look for. In fact, I noticed that poise about you from across the room at the jazz club last week, before I even saw the anklet – and when I saw the anklet last week, I thought my odds on guessing right were pretty good. When I saw it again tonight, I was almost certain."
Could it be
that
obvious?
I wondered.
"So whose idea was it for you to be with other men, yours or your husband's?" James asked casually after a brief silence.
I squirmed slightly in my chair, aroused by the combination of nonchalance and eroticism in James' questions. "It...it had been a fantasy of Jack's for years, going back to college, actually, although I didn't know it then, and, um, he would tell me his fantasies in bed...and then one day things just, ah..."
"...just sort of happened?" James finished my sentence for me, smiling. "Yeah," I added, "they just sort of happened."
"And tell me, Tammy," he said in a low voice, "how many lovers have you had since things just sort of happened?"
"Just one," I answered honestly.
James' eyes widened in surprise.
"Just one?" He leaned forward slightly and smiled. "Why Tammy, that means you're practically a virgin." The last word hung in the air for a long moment, and I had to remind myself to take a breath.
James picked up his glass and looked into it, lazily swirling the drink, making the ice cubes clink noisily against the sides of the glass.
"So, tell me about him – your one lover," James said finally.
"His name was Derek," I began slowly.
"And how did you meet him?" James asked. I noticed that the room seemed noticeably darker than it had been when I entered, as the setting sun ceased to light the room as brightly.
"I...we, um, we were both on the same United Way committee," I said quietly. "When he, ah, came to the first committee meeting, my husband was out of town and I, um, fantasized about Derek. A lot."
I squirmed on the chair again, my confessions both igniting my memories and exciting my anticipation of this evening.
"I...I told my husband about Derek and Jack, um, encouraged me to, ah, make myself available to him. His – Derek's – wife was back in California finishing up her doctorate," I added, "so I was, um, kind of Derek's 'girlfriend' until his wife moved here."
"I see," James said evenly. "So tell me about Derek."
I took a sip of my wine, and tried to maintain eye contact with James. "Derek's a few years younger than me, an executive at the bank. And he's black," I added.
James smiled. "And do you think you'll ever go back?" he asked with a soft chuckle.
"Well...I'm here tonight, aren't I?" I said both impulsively and flirtatiously.
"Had that been part of your or your husband's fantasies, that you'd have a black lover?" James inquired.
"That...didn't really ever enter into the fantasies, really," I replied. "Not until I met Derek, anyway. Jack just seemed to be really aroused by the idea of me being with another man, he never really said anything about his race."
"And tell me, what did Derek like to do to you, Tammy?" James asked.
My heart pounded. "He...um, Derek, ah, liked to, um, dominate me, to make me...submit to him. He liked to...to tie me up, and spank me. Hard." I nervously took another sip of my wine, finding my mouth suddenly incredibly dry.