Nervous! He asks me if I'm nervous. Of course I'm nervous! Wouldn't you be?
"A little, Kevin," I tell my husband.
"But you're going to go through with it, right?"
"Probably," I admit. If he only knew. I can't wait for this, for the past two weeks I've thought of little else. Affairs are one thing, this will be something altogether different, it seems to me.
Sex has always been an important part of my life, since the moment I first kissed a boy, over forty years ago. I let a classmate have me when I was a Junior, and from then to the time I got married in my twenty-seventh year a week rarely went by when I didn't get some. Oh, I wasn't a slut. Except for a couple of times, I was 'faithful' to the guy I was dating. And it wasn't weird stuff, no bondage or group sex or anything like that, just the simple pleasure of me and one guy, hopefully in a nice soft bed or couch or maybe the floor, I'm sort of a vanilla girl when it comes to that. But only once did I get to a point where I didn't crave the feeling of a man's chest on mine, my legs surrounding him.
"I told Lou you liked vodka and tonic," Kevin says.
"That's nice, I could use a drink."
Boy, can I use a drink. I'm a wreck inside. Thinking about what's going to happen has my heart pounding, my mouth's got a cottony coating. I remember the old feelings, what it's like to be aroused by a stranger. And I haven't even met this man yet!
When I first met Kevin I was in a relationship, and he understood when he first asked me out on a date that I just couldn't. But a couple of weeks later I found out my boyfriend was dating another girl, and since he wasn't the end all to me, I phoned Kevin and told him he could take me to dinner. I was coy, that first night, I let him into my apartment and we made out, but I didn't let him past second base. The next two dates, either, but the fourth date, wow! What really impressed me was that he didn't try to get up in the middle of the night and sneak out, in fact he took me to breakfast the next morning. And that was that. We were engaged in three months, we moved in together, the wedding a year and seven months later was a blast, the honeymoon in the Virgin Islands was everything you could hope for, we didn't even get sunburned.
"Are you still looking forward to this, honey?" I ask.
"I think it'll be a lot of fun."
We went through all the vexations of marriage. The first couple of years were great, buying a house, worrying about money, finding out we were pregnant. The decisions about sex went from let's-do-it-now! to i-could-be-up-for-it to are-you-too-tired, but once we got in the sack it almost always went up to fantastic. Then we had little Elizabeth, and I got postpartum depression, and for the first time in my life I didn't really crave sex. After I got over the pain - both physical and emotional - I'd let Kevin make love to me, but my head wasn't in it. Orgasms were non-existent, Kevin never complained, but he was surly sometimes. Maybe that's when he had his first affair, I'm not sure. In fairness, I'm not positive that he's ever had an affair, I've never 'caught' him, not that I ever tried to. But if he did have a girl on the side, I wouldn't have blamed him. Perhaps he's had more affairs since.
But we got out of that cycle when I met John. He was single, in his mid-twenties, ray-bans and a t-shirt under a sports coat, he played saxophone in a band on the weekends. We met while I was browsing in this little second-hand shop, less than an hour later I was in his bed, having a great orgasm. I knew John had other women, but I really didn't care. Whenever I could get away, he gave me exactly what I wanted, which was mainly a firm penis. It was never more than sex, and I never wanted to stay longer than an hour or two, but those ninety minutes were heavenly.
This helped in bed with Kevin, not surprisingly. He recognized my renewed interest in the ancient sport, he got his mother to baby sit one weekend, we headed for a hotel, didn't come out of the room except to eat. A couple of years later, after I had little Steve, I never let it get to the problems we had after Elizabeth, if sex wasn't the main goal in life it was at least an important part. A few months after it started, my affair with John was pretty much over, although we got together three or four times in the next year.
"You look very nice," Kevin compliments.
'I do,' I thought. My shoulder length blond hair had been cut and colored that very morning, along with a manicure and pedicure. I spent nearly forty minutes on my makeup. I'm wearing a v-neck sheath in black and white, hem to my knees, black heels, stockings, silver earrings and bracelet and my signature rings, five including my engagement and wedding ring.
"Thank you," I respond. "You think Lou will like me?"
"I'm sure he will. When I sent him a picture of you, he couldn't say enough about it."
After Steve was born, we became the perfect nuclear family, mom, dad, two kids, dog, cat, soccer practice, piano lessons, high school sports, we got them both through a bachelor's degree.
Then it got boring. I had a nice career, so did Kevin, we had friends and hobbies and a beautiful house, but my life was devoid without the kids.
'What would Gabe think,' I wonder to myself, 'if he could see me right now, if he knew what I was planning on doing tonight. Would he be pleased for me, or would he be upset?'
I'm not the first empty-nester to try to fix my doldrums with an affair, won't be the last. Gabe is a man who works in my building, we met in the elevator. The attraction was immediate, but with both of us being married, we resisted for the longest time. Lunches, after-work cocktails, we understood what we wanted, and then, one week when Kevin was out of town, I suggested we head to a hotel. That first time was amazing, for the next few months we couldn't wait to get at each other. Of course we discussed how nice it would be if we could get rid of our spouses, live together, but neither of us were really unsatisfied with our lives, and so we just continued seeing each other as opportunities arose. Our relationship has been going on for four years, sometimes we see each other three or four times a month, sometimes we go months at a time without any sexual contact, it depends on the opportunities. One time, we'd both lied to our spouses, took off for a weekend, I wouldn't mind doing it again.
I feel no guilt about my affair. If Kevin has figured it out, he's never mentioned it. And there's been plenty of opportunity for his own trysts, if he tells me he wants to go on a fishing trip I encourage him, if he comes home late at night I don't pry too much if the explanation is less than candid.
But Gabe is another kink in the back of my mind. If I told him, would he be possessive, or encouraging? I don't know.
"If you decide you don't want me to do this," I offer, "I'll be happy to stop. Just say the word."
A few months back, while we were coming home from a party, Kevin asked me about some of the men there, if I found them interesting. I gave a bland answer, although one of them was very attractive; I wasn't about to let Kevin know that, though. And then he said, 'I wouldn't mind if you had an affair.'
'Oh, I could never do that,' I remember answering, a pure lie. And then I said, 'Do you want to have an affair?'
'Not really. But I think about you being with another man.' This started a long discussion, I admitted that sometimes I fantasized about having sex with someone else, since we were in bed at the time I knew he was encouraged by that. The conversation that night ended in a non-decision, I remained cautious, and that only brought up other nights, more bed-time chats.
In my heart, I loved the idea. I'd heard about swinging, and hotwifes, and I knew that if Kevin gave me the okay, Gabe wouldn't be the last guy I was ever in bed with. In fact, I fantasized a future of threesomes and foursomes and orgies. But I knew I had to handle it gently, if Kevin found out I wanted to become a wench in my mid-fifties, he might not be as joyful as if it remained a fantasy.
I, of course, asked him if he wanted a woman, told him it wouldn't bother me if he did, his reaction was that down the line, maybe, but his first thought was to see me in the sack with somebody else. And, it turned out, he really meant 'see.' His dream is to actually be there in the room, watch me as I get naked with another man, do what comes naturally.
This request threw me. I like porn as much as the next woman, I enjoy a good sexy movie, I'm not a prude when it comes to nude scenes, particularly when the man's genitals are displayed. But do I want to be the star in an explicit film? Do I want someone, Kevin or anyone else, to watch me as I perform erotic acts? I'm still unsure, but in the end my decision is to try it, see if I like it.
Even after I reluctantly (at least I hope Kevin saw it that way,) agreed to help him fulfill his fantasy, I still wasn't absolutely sure. I worried, of course, what would happen to our marriage if Kevin really knew I was making love to somebody else. Talk is one thing, action is another, you don't know how some things are going to go until after you do it, and then it's too late. Kevin kept reassuring me, kept telling me he'd still love me, and so after five or six months, I finally threw the ball back at him. I told him that, yes, I'd have a one-night stand and yes, he could watch me, but only if he found the guy. I told him I needed to see a picture, and then I left him to his pursuit. I figured if I called his bluff, maybe nothing would happen and we'd go back to whatever we were, or maybe I'd wind up getting laid, but either way, Kevin could never say I didn't give him the chance, or blame me for the result.
"No," Kevin tells me, "I'm ready for this. I want you to do it!"
About ten days after I threw the gauntlet down, Kevin came back to me with information on the man he proposed was going to be my new lover. His name is Lou, he's our age, handsome with short grey hair, blue eyes. A naked picture of him showed a couple of extra pounds, but nothing obscene, the genitals were erect, of sufficient length. Kevin asked me if I wanted to talk to him on the phone, I told him it wasn't necessary, and we set up a Saturday night, since Lou is divorced it's going to be at his house.
"Is there anything in particular you want me to do?" I ask.
"Anything you want will be fine. Enjoy yourself, don't worry about me." I wonder what that means. If I become aggressive, will Kevin be upset, or will he think it's neat? I'm finding there's a fine line I need to walk, between enjoying myself, making sure that Lou has a good time, and making sure that Kevin's satisfied and not overly jealous.
After fifteen minutes in the car, Kevin pulls into the parking lot of a townhouse complex, neat rows of brick co-ops, nice landscaping. "That's it, there," Kevin points to a door. I'm still a little wary of the fact that Kevin has decided we don't need to bring a bottle of wine or a dessert, but I giggle when I remember his response, 'I'm bringing you for him, isn't that enough?'
We walk to the door, I ring the bell. After a couple of moments we hear footsteps and then the door opens, I see Lou for the first time. He's even better looking than the picture, three inches taller than I, even in my heels, an unspoken air of authority about him, tailored slacks, button down shirt. He gazes at me, first into my face, which I appreciate, then down to my cleavage. I watch him take in the exposed skin popping out of my dress, then down to my legs, wrapped in nylon. I wonder if he'll like the pattern at the top when he sees it.
"You must be Lisbeth and Kevin, right?"
"We are," Kevin answers.
