You should probably read "The Letter" before you read this one.
*****
After I read my husband's letter, and all that has gone on between us since, I felt like I needed to have my right of reply. Maybe you won't like what I have to say, but I need to say it.
First thing, I love my husband. At least, I really, really like him. Our sex life was comfortable rather than spectacular, which I was initially OK with. I read somewhere that most people do not see their partner as their soul mate. Rather, they got married when they were ready. I think that's what it is for me; my husband isn't my soul mate. He's a decent guy and we have fun but I was beginning to think that there might be something more out there.
When we first met he was a super sweet guy who always greeted me with, "Hi, beautiful," "hello, gorgeous," or "good morning, lovely lady." Always. When we got engaged it became a normal thing for him to use those words in everyday conversation. It made me feel like I was the most beautiful woman in the world. I know I'm attractive and I work pretty hard to keep in shape but to have someone tell you that everyday is pretty special.
I work at a hospital. I am a receptionist and only work one day a week. I also cover for when one of the other girls is ill so every now and then I work a couple of extra days. I don't have to work because my husband is a 'genius' stockbroker. I mean, he could retire now, at age 30, and still have more money than most people will make in a lifetime. His current salary is into 7 figures per year. What girl wouldn't love that? He works for himself from home too so he has no staff to pay and no overheads either.
We had been married 8 years and gotten really comfortable with each other. I don't necessarily mean that negatively, but the spark was definitely dying. He never called me beautiful any more. He used to say it at least once a day.
So here comes the difficult part. A couple of new interns started at the hospital about 6 months ago, Dr Jacob Thompson and Dr Michael Bradley. These boys were seriously handsome. They were built like professional athletes too - both over 6 feet tall with broad shoulders, and nice, tight butts!
I had just turned 30 when they began. I was surprised at how old that birthday made me feel. My husband spoiled me rotten, but it was with a nice meal, just the two of us, and then home again. We made love, but he was, wham, bam, thank-you, ma'am. I was so frustrated I could scream.
Anyway a few days after my birthday, when I next worked, in came these two hunks. I think my jaw hit the ground! I was like an awkward teenager again around them. I couldn't believe how flustered I was. They introduced themselves and I was like, "Ah... um... hi... nice to meet you, ah..."
" And you are...?"
"Oh, sorry, I'm Jen. I'm married and I only work on Wednesdays." I thought, "God, why did you tell them that?"
"Married, huh?" one of them said. "Lucky man. Michael, whaddya think?"
"Oh, yeah, lucky indeed, Jacob, lucky indeed."
They were both eying me up and down. I blushed bright red, just like that teenager. I was proud of my 34C boobs and tight butt. I worked out pretty regularly and I knew I looked pretty good for a thirty-year-old woman who has been married for 8 years. Fortunately the doctor in charge of the interns arrived and took them away to begin their day.
I began to look for them on my working days. When I found them I began to seriously flirt with them. I made sure my clothing was sexy but still suitable for the job. I started wearing a little more make-up and perfume. I really like Opium, by Yves Saint Laurent, perfume. It hits all the right spots.
The boys (I thought of them as boys - they were 5 years younger than me) noticed and began flirting back - a little innocent touching on the shoulder when talking to me, or in the small of my back to get my attention from the other one. I played up to it. It was obvious that both thought they had a chance and tried to exclude the other. Nothing was too competitive though. These two were obviously good friends.
The amazing thing was that they started greeting me with, "Hi, beautiful," or "hello, gorgeous." They were the exact same words my husband used when we were first getting to know each other. When one of them started calling me, "lovely lady," I was seriously looking at them with an eye to get to know them better.
I was lapping up the attention of these seriously gorgeous younger men. They started work at exactly the right time for me. I was down in the dumps because I had just turned 30 and these two hunks came along and made me feel like a teenager again.
On the home front nothing much changed - same old, same old. What's the saying, 'same shit, different day.' It was all very routine but I always really looked forward to my Wednesdays and work.
The flirting had been going on for a few months and nothing had really come of it. Then my husband and I sat down for a talk. I was really shocked when Scott suggested an open marriage. I thought, "Now this is something I might enjoy with Jacob or Michael." But I knew my husband. If I looked too eager he would probably think something was already going on. There was, but so far it was all innocent. Just a little flirting. Neither Jacob nor Michael had tried to kiss me or fondle me, the most we had done was hug.
So I held out for a while. Scott was quite persuasive. He promised me that he could handle it and that our marriage was strong enough if we both did it. I got a really strong sense that he already had someone in mind. I hope it wasn't too obvious that I did too when I finally agreed.
I went to work the next day and thought I could detect a change in mood of my favourite young medicine men. Their behaviour was more like making passes at me than innocent flirting. At morning tea, Jacob kissed me on the cheek. At lunch, Michael gave me a hug and grabbed my butt. It was probably just me but I thought I should go for it.
I sat them down at afternoon teatime and laid it out. "Boys, my husband wants an open marriage. Now, if you want more than the fun we've been having, I'll meet you at the Red Dog Club on Friday night at 8 o'clock."
Then I went back to my desk. I didn't see them again until I was on my way out to my car at the end of the day. Jacob came running out to me.
"You were serious weren't you?"
"As serious as a heart attack," I replied.
"Ohh, lame, but Michael and I will be there with our dancing boots on."
"Oh, yeah, me too," I said and winked at him as I turned to get into my car.
On Friday I went shopping especially for the night to come. I found a beautiful little black dress. It showed just the right amount of cleavage (a lot) and looked like it had been spray painted on it was that tight. I decided I needed new shoes and found a pair of killer five inch 'fuck me' heels that I fell in love with. For some reason I thought stockings and suspenders were needed but with a dress so tight it would be pretty obvious that I was wearing them. A cute little black thong finished my ensemble.