The Dinner 19

This is based on a true story. I only say 'based on' because everything that happened here took place more than fifteen years ago when I was in my mid-twenties (as are all of the other characters) and, to be honest, I simply can't remember every detail, so I've used some artistic license to fill in the gaps wherever necessary. But the events, the emotions, the people and the places are true, reconstructed where necessary from my diary at the time, my messages, my emails and my photos, and have stuck with me like it was yesterday. My then boyfriend, now husband, doesn't know about most of this, so here's hoping he's not a reader...

I hope you enjoy.

"So, what are you up to this weekend then?"

"Oh, nothing much planned," I replied. "Some of us going for dinner on Friday night, apart from that though the weekend is pretty free. Probably go to the beach at some point, maybe have a swim. Just a relaxed one really."

"That sounds nice, I've got this stag do all weekend that I'm dreading but guess I'll enjoy when I'm there."

A stag do... great. He didn't think I knew but knowing his friends a stag do equalled lots of alcohol and, inevitably, ending up at a lap dancing club somewhere.

"You'll have a great time, you always do. Just, you know, please steer clear of some of the less savoury activities your friends might want to do."

A long distance relationship could be tough. We'd been together since university but had been apart now for two months as my job had taken me for a six month rotation overseas to an exotic, hot climate but also a completely different time zone. During the week our opportunities to talk freely were limited as usually one or other of us was either at work or asleep when the other wanted to talk, so we had to grab the opportunities when we could.

"Of course I will, I promise I'll be careful. I'm counting the minutes already for my flight out to visit you, I miss you. Four weeks from now feels like ages."

"I miss you too."

If he only knew. We could talk, we could message, but what I missed so much, more than anything, was being with him and being touched by him. I hated to admit it to myself, but I was longing for the physical side even more than the emotional side, I needed him in me. My plans for his visit were, to a great extent, not going far beyond the bedroom. We had phone sex whenever we could but that was no replacement, and I'd got into the habit of at least daily touching myself to release some of the sexual frustration.

"So, your dinner tomorrow night. Who and where?"

"It's at one of the top hotels here, they've got a famous chef visiting and doing a tasting menu. Should be fantastic, I'm really looking forward to the food."

"Sounds great, and who's going?"

"Oh, just a friend through work."

"A friend through work?"

"Yeah."

"I feel like you don't want to tell me who..."

"Well... you can guess who."

"Him again?"

"Who?"

"Your Partner in Crime..."

"...yeah"

My Partner in Crime was another person out on a six month overseas rotation with a different company, and he and I had made a deal early on that (purely platonically) we'd be each other's plus one for any of the events that you'd take a date or your partner to when at home. It had worked pretty well, we'd been to various social events over the last couple of months which would otherwise have been tricky on our own, the only thing was that I knew my boyfriend at home was starting to get a bit jealous about the amount of time we were spending together as a pair. My flatmate had jokingly started to refer to him as my Partner in Crime and the nickname had stuck - so much so that in our group of friends I was referred to as the Partner in Crime in his presence as well.

"I'll be honest, to me your dinner tomorrow sounds like a date rather than a plus one sort of thing..."

"Hmm... no, it isn't. Don't get jealous. There's load of other people we know going, so..."

"All at your table?"

"On other tables."

"So, it's a date. And you didn't want to tell me who with."

"No, not at all. I love you, I'm not going to go on a date with someone else. You don't need to worry. Trust me."

"I'm sorry, I just miss you, that's all. I can't wait to see you. I need to go, shall we try to speak over the weekend? Depends on the stag do when."

"Yeah, sounds good - call me whenever. I love you."

"I love you too."

The call ended and I sat back on my bed. When he'd called it a date he hit a nerve, I'll be honest. I've always prided myself on my loyalty and faithfulness to people, and aside from one little wobble when I was in my teens, I'd always been 100% faithful to each boyfriend over the years. To be honest, I loved him, but I was kind of pissed off by what he'd said.

My boyfriend and I had always skirted around the question of what would or wouldn't be cheating. Personally, I was pretty much zero tolerance - I'd made it clear early on when we started going out that if he even kissed another girl, let alone anything more, then that would likely be us finished. He was more relaxed, and let on at various points that while he'd draw a line at me sleeping with someone else (albeit it was a secret fantasy of his) he wouldn't mind too much if I was to kiss another man while I was drunk, and he'd given me a lifelong hall pass to do whatever I wanted with another woman (a pass that I'd played once a couple of years back to my boyfriend's delight when I told him about it, and hoped to play again at some point). Clearly though whatever he thought this dinner could be crossed a line for him somewhere, I suspected more than anything because of jealousy - he'd love to be there having dinner with me, not some other man.

I walked out of the bedroom to the living room of my shared apartment and sat down on the sofa. Lady Luck had been smiling on me when she was deciding who would live with who on this rotation, and so I'd fallen on my feet to find myself sharing with someone who despite being from a different country (she was from the Netherlands, I'm from the UK) shared a lot of interests in common, but also crucially was very easy going company. I think, or at least hope, that she thought the same about me. And luckily her English was excellent, with only the slightest accent, as my Dutch was non-existent.

My flatmate was in the living room already, and she could tell that something had annoyed me.

"What's up?"

"It's this dinner tomorrow. I was really looking forward to it, and now my boyfriend has accused me of going on a date rather than, well, just having some dinner with my Partner in Crime."

"Are you?"

"No! Of course not, I wouldn't do something like that. I just like good food and good company with it, there's nothing beyond that."

"Ok... it's just that, have you seen the way he looks at you?"

"No... what do you mean?"

"Well, when you're not looking, I've often seen him stealing glances at you. And he talks about you all the time. If I didn't know better, I'd say that he has designs on the two of you not being strictly platonic for ever..."

"Really? I honestly hadn't noticed. Are you sure?"

"99%, yes."

I sat back and let that sink in for a minute. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

My flatmate got up to leave the room, and as she walked out I asked "Do you think I should cancel?"

"Well, that really comes down to you. Is there maybe a little part of you that also wants a date? Somewhere deep down? He's a great looking guy and you and him clearly have some chemistry."

"We do?"

"Yeah, you flirt with him all the time. Seriously, we all can see it."

Thinking about it, I replied, "I suppose we do, but it's all harmless fun. I'm just worried about what my boyfriend thinks."

"Look," she said. "He's not here. He's thousands of miles away. And he doesn't own you. You can enjoy your dinner tomorrow without worrying about what he thinks. And who knows, if there is a spark with your Partner in Crime that's fine - it's not illegal to be attracted to another person. And if that spark turns into something more then, well, you only live once and no one needs to know..."

"Are you serious? You think so?"

"We all have our secrets, we all have our skeletons in our closets. God knows I have and I'm sure you do too. Live a little. And what are you scared of? You like him, right?" I nodded. "I've seen you looking at him when we went to the beach, you're definitely physically attracted to him, right?" I blushed and nodded again. "Would you be dating him if you didn't have a boyfriend?"

"Probably."

"Then just see how tomorrow night goes. It might be the night that changes your life, and if it isn't they you've got a long term boyfriend sat at home anyway."

"Maybe if my boyfriend wants to call it a date then in my head I will call it a date, and enjoy it like that."

She laughed as she headed into her bedroom. "Plus of course you've already prepaid a small fortune upfront for the reservation, and I know you don't like to waste money."

That was true. I smiled back, "Looks like I'm going out to dinner tomorrow."

As I lay in bed that night trying to sleep, I turned around in my mind what tomorrow night even was. Certainly, when we booked it, it was a great opportunity to have try excellent food in a nice location. But why had I invited my Partner in Crime rather than one of my other friends? Was there some part of me that subconsciously wanted to take him out for a test run in an actual date situation? Was there a part of me that was comparing him to my boyfriend and saw something I liked more? Certainly, there would have been no stigma attached to going with one of my female friends instead.

The more I thought about it the more I used the word 'date' in my head rather than 'dinner'. I liked the sound of it.

I started thinking back to the last time I was dating, around five years before. Something that I'd always found useful was to think in advance of what I was prepared to do and how far I was prepared to go on that date if it was going well. That way, when the date inevitably started hinting at sex, I was clear in my mind as to what I did and did not want.

My golden rule as long as I'd been dating was no sex on the first date. A kiss, yes, a lot of kissing yes, maybe even some hands roaming around under clothes, yes, but any form of sex was a no, as was going back to his place. I'd always thought it was important to wait until at least the second or third date for sex, but to be honest once we'd got that far there was usually not much holding back.

Tomorrow night's date was tricky. Clearly I wasn't going to have sex with him, whatever happened. If it went amazingly well and ended up being the date that changed my life as my flatmate had called it then who knew with further dates? But there would be time for that, there was absolutely no way that would be happening on my first date. Zero chance. It would not be right with my boyfriend, even if he was thousands of miles away.

How about the other stuff though? As I thought it through, I started to daydream about my Partner in Crime's hands caressing my breasts and reaching down between my legs, while my hand went between his. Hot, arousing, yes. Something that I could do on a first date, no.

Which left kissing. Would I let him kiss me? Would I kiss him? Again, my mind started to wander, and I realised that kissing was possibly the thing that I'd missed most over the last couple of months. You can touch yourself, you can stroke yourself, but you can't kiss yourself.

And kissing, ultimately, was low risk when it came to my boyfriend. He'd told me himself that he didn't really have a problem with random, drunken making out. So even if it was something that he somehow found out about it wouldn't be a relationship ender - worst case I could fix it by being suitably contrite, maybe offering a sweetener of something kinky one night when he visited or a week of blow jobs as a way to make it up to him. Certainly a controllable problem.

Thinking about these permutations had had the effect that you'd expect, and I was pretty aroused. Pretty much every night I'd get myself off to sleep by touching myself, trying to fill the need I had for real sex in the best way that I could. I had various fantasies that worked for me, mostly involving my boyfriend but, I'll admit, more than a few times involving my Partner in Crime (sometimes both of them) and, for when I was feeling a bit more kinky, one involving me, one of my best (female) friends from back home that I'd always had a secret lady crush on and a pair of handcuffs.

Tonight though, as I touched myself, I built a new fantasy, one where I'd kissed my Partner in Crime, and was making it up to my boyfriend by giving him the best blowjob I could. I could feel the tension building in me as I imagined working my way up and down his cock, but just as I was getting close the image in my mind shifted from my boyfriend to my Partner in Crime. I should have stopped and reset but the vision was so passionate, so hot, that I couldn't. And even if I'd wanted to, my residual annoyance with our call earlier meant that I wanted to take some small revenge. As my hand kept on moving, I rolled on to my front and buried my face in my pillow as a powerful orgasm ripped through me, my moans muffled by the pillow while I imagined my Partner in Crime cumming in my mouth.

Wow. That was something else. And also, oh shit. Because certainly oral sex was not on the cards for tomorrow night. No way.

I still felt so horny that I needed release again, so started to play with myself some more. This time, feeling so aroused, I went straight to my kinkier fantasy. As I got to the part though where she's handcuffed my wrists to the bedframe and is going down on me, I imagined my Partner in Crime walking in naked and starting to make love to her, his cock filling her exquisitely while he looked into my eyes, and him cumming into her while she came, and her moaning into my pussy triggering my own orgasm. The image was so vivid that I came again hard and couldn't silence the moans that came out.

Hmm... I thought as I recovered from my second orgasm. There's definitely some attraction there.

As I drifted off to sleep with various thoughts swirling through my head, I resolved one thing - yes, kissing on our date tomorrow was fine. I'd happily make out with him. A hard no though was sex, I'd need to save that for my fantasies. As for hands roaming under clothes well, also a no but... maybe if the date went really, spectacularly well?

The next morning I woke up with butterflies in my stomach. I couldn't believe it, I was nervous. Having shifted in my head from 'dinner with a friend' to 'date' the nerves that I used to feel back when I was dating were creeping up.

Having showered and got dressed for work, I grabbed some breakfast to eat on the 10 minute walk to work. As usual my flatmate walked with me which was usually a great opportunity to chat.

This morning though I was feeling pensive, my nerves pretty obvious. "Are you ok?" she asked as we left our apartment building.

I smiled, "Yes... it's just I thought a lot last night about our chat before we went to bed."

"...and?" she asked.

I blushed. "Tonight's a date." Saying it out loud felt worse somehow, and I avoided eye contact with her.

She stopped in her tracks and put her hand on my arm so that I stopped too. "Really?"

I looked at her and nodded. "Yes. I only live once, right? I think that's what you said."

"How exciting!" she paused as we continued walking. "Are you going to put out?"

"What?!" I replied.

She laughed. "Don't act so prudish. You're a grown woman. Are you going to put out?"

I sighed. "Well, I thought about it a lot last night."

Laughing more, she said "Yes, I heard."

My face went bright red. Feigning ignorance I replied, "Heard what?"

"You know... our walls are quite thin, and my bed is just the other side from yours after all. But that's fine, I'm sure you hear me sometimes too if that makes you feel better."

"So, like I say I thought about it a lot last night, not like that. I'm thinking that if it goes well then making out is fine, I can swing that with my boyfriend if need be, but nothing further."

"Wow, you've given it a lot of thought."

"Do you think that's ok?"

"Yeah, of course. You're a grown woman. If you're out tonight and you want to kiss him then you should. To be honest, if you want to fuck him all over our flat then you should too, just let me know in advance so I can make myself scarce."

"I'm not doing that, no way. Making out I can live with, sex is a no-no while I'm with someone else."

"Sounds fair. Do you want my advice?"

"Always. So long as it's not to sleep with him."

"I had a few times where I went out on dates and set myself similar boundaries. But then in the heat of the moment I got caught up and ended up sleeping with someone that I regretted the next day. To stop that, what I do is wear my worst, least sexy, most mismatched underwear ever under whatever clothes I've got on. That way, if it starts heading in that direction, you'll remember and be so mortified that you don't do it. It works like a charm for me."

"Hmm... that's not a bad idea actually. Thanks."

We walked on, changing the topic to her weekend away with one of our friends. I was pretty jealous as the two of them were going to a 5 star beach resort a short flight away, flying late that night and coming back on Sunday.

"I'm just hoping she loosens up a bit while we're away," my friend confided in me, referring to the friend she was going away with. "She can tend to be a bit too sensible, and I'm looking forward to some fun." The friend was in a similar situation to me, dating a long term boyfriend that was at home, but hadn't really managed to let her hair down in the way that I'd learned to.

"Fun? As in fun hanging out? Or fun meeting a guy?"

She laughed, "Maybe a bit of both..."

"Well, you've got your own room right? So, if you want to find a guy and fuck him all over your room then you should!" I teased, echoing her own words from a few moments before.

We reached our offices and as we went our separate ways to the separate teams that we each worked in, she asked, "Are you heading home after work to get ready or going straight on your date from here?"

"Shhh... don't call it that here," I whispered. Speaking at a normal volume, "Yes, I'm going to head home first. Will you be around?"

"Yes, I'll be back home before I go to the airport. See you later!"

The work day passed as working days often do - slowly but we got there in the end. We had a team lunch which was a nice break, and it was someone's birthday so there was cake to share in the afternoon.

As it got past 5pm I went to leave, and the nerves started to kick in again. Suddenly tonight's date was getting very real.

When I got home I checked my phone and say a text message from my Partner in Crime:

"Looking forward to dinner later, just got out of the shower and wondering what I need to wear. Is there a dress code?"

Just got out of the shower. Which meant he was probably naked when he sent it. An image flashed in to my mind, and I felt just the smallest hint of arousal starting to stir in me. Just got out of the shower was such gratuitous information, it felt like he was flirting a little with that message? Two can play at that game, as I replied:

"Me too. Dress code is formal, so I guess suit and tie? What do you reckon for me? I'm in the bath at the moment but have two dresses in mind."

See how he likes that. I call your got out of the shower and raise you an I'm in the bath. Hopefully that had got his imagination going.

"Ok, suit sounds good. White shirt ok? I'm getting a bit cold standing here in only my boxer shorts while I decide. Also, tell me about those dresses?"