At Long Last Love

"Well, I suppose that wasn't too bad for a first attempt." I thought as I read the comments from my first story.

It was hard to disagree with them, especially the comments about how the buildup was the best part. That had been the easiest part of the story to write, it wasn't surprising that it was also the easiest part to read. The words had just flown straight to the page, I wasn't even sure I had needed to do any actual editing there beyond the occasional misspelled or double typed word.

The advice I had read, "Write what you know", had worked even better than the author had said it would. I had been trying for years to write a creditable story, but they all seemed to dissolve once I got started. The trouble would come after I introduced the characters and they began to interact. I was never able to really imagine them fully, didn't really know them. It still amazed me that other authors were able to create entire worlds, populate them with fully realized people, and not lose track of who knew who, wanted what, or why.

So I took a shortcut. Decided to literally write what I knew. And if there was one thing I knew, it was that I am in love with my wife's sister, Kelly.

So when I wrote, I told the readers all about how I came to be where I was. How I met my wife, and then her sister, and the decades of longing I have felt. It went well, and easily, right up until it came time for the action, the payoff, the moment the readers had been waiting for. When "the guy finally got the girl." That part stuttered, it was difficult to write. It was strange that this would be such a challenge, considering the many hundreds of nights I have fallen asleep with visions of exactly that.

The problem is that it isn't real, as much as I wish it were, and I haven't yet learned the art of creation. Description maybe, grammar and pacing maybe, but creation? Definitely not. The details fled when the time came for my protagonist, me, to finally win my heart's desire. Like the characters of my other stories, I didn't really know what that would look like. Ah well, at least I had a story to start with and feedback not only from readers but from my girlfriends and my wife who knew me.

My wife of course is quite concerned about the small changes I have worked in to the story of our life together, feeling that I have given over two decades of happy marriage insufficient time. True, I couldn't imagine life without Nicole. The strength of our admittedly unorthodox marriage is the only reason I can even admit my feelings to myself, much less put them on display for others to see. She is the one who has earned my trust so fully that I can admit to her my illicit desire for Kelly. She was the one who could master her own doubts and insecurities so fully that she could hope for me to find happiness with her own sister. She is the one who makes my impossible hope real.

My girlfriend Jessica, the one who lives a thousand miles away, read the story and enjoyed it. Her feedback however mirrored many of the other readers. She wanted more, felt the erotic scene at the end was too small. She told me she had hoped the two sisters would both be involved in the final scene, siblings and husband making love with one another. I couldn't find the words to explain that it wasn't there because this was my true story, my real love, my real hopes. That to put two of my greatest loves together like that, force them to change the nature of their relationship to one another in order to serve me, would be to betray them both. Certainly it would be wonderful if romance developed between the two of them so we could find ourselves together in that way. I would give anything if could be so completely unconcerned with convention and judgement that we freely loved another in every way. But the relationship between them must develop between them, not subservient to me or my relationships with them. Otherwise it would always be poisoned by obligation.

On the other hand, my girlfriend Chris, who lives only a few minutes from my house, read the story on a night I stayed with her. Her feedback was less verbal, far more physical, and would have made an excellent real-life example of the type of sex the readers were looking for. Maybe I should write that scene into the next chapter somehow, change the participants a bit so it isn't blatantly obvious this is a true story. It was certainly amazing enough in reality to warrant the effort, and without a doubt I will spend many evenings imagining Kelly and I together that way.

In the meanwhile, life goes on. I had an interview last week for an executive position at the same company Kelly works for. She told me about the opening, it was not one that would be advertised, and the money is outstanding. Kelly is also an executive there, but in a different division. She met me for coffee, our shared addiction, the day before, so she could give me some advice on what to expect. As helpful as it was, and as much as I want the job, the real reason I wanted to meet was because it gave me an excuse to spend time alone with Kelly.

Last week went by fast, as often happens. The store, kids, taking the brand-new car to the shop for the fifth time in the six months we have owned it, it was busy enough to keep my mind almost completely off my upcoming lunch date.

Almost.

I remember standing in line at the grocery store one afternoon when the impossibly young cashier said something about her own coffee addiction. I immediately thought of Kelly and our love of coffee. I felt an unexpected pang of longing that nearly took my breath away and lingered with me for the rest of the day. Little things reminded me of her, seeing the same model of car she drove on the road, drinking a glass of wine, enough to keep her lightly on my mind as she had been for all of these years.

Coffee went wonderfully.

I walked in the door and she turned towards me, flashing a smile. Kelly's face and the tone of her voice was teasing, her body language relaxed. "Nice of you to finally show up.", she teased.

I had spotted her before I even parked the car. 5'6", dark glossy hair, the amazing body of an old style pin up girl, and a presence that drew the room to her. How could I not have noticed? I was certain that anyone who happened to glance through the windows would have noticed her instantly as well. Or maybe it was just me.

"Well, I wouldn't want to have you question my intentions."

Kelly laughed. Ten seconds in and already the trip was already worthwhile.

I walked up beside her, and the two of us headed for the counter. We stood close, our shoulders touching as we ordered. Her, a vanilla latte with the cinnamon sprinkled on top like I once suggested to her years ago. Me, black coffee as large and caffeinated as I could get. I offered to bring the drinks when they were done, and Kelly went to go find us a seat.

The barista, an attractive woman only a few years younger than me, was very good at what she did. Just a few moments later I had our drinks in hand, and went to look for Kelly. The place wasn't quite crowded, but all the booths and couches were full. I found her sitting at the little coffee bar looking out the windows.

I sat beside her. The chairs were all askew from earlier patrons, and mine was a little too close to hers. Perfect. Our legs pressed up against one another as I sat, but she did not pull away. She turned to me as I handed her the latte, and put her other hand on my shoulder as she said thank you.

We made small talk for a few minutes, during which I must have heard her laugh a dozen times. I think that's the thing really, that makes her so precious to me. Not so much the desire to please, but to be pleased. She takes joy in so many things that you feel uplifted when you are around her. Eventually our conversation turned to work, my upcoming interview.

We spent a good half hour talking about that interview, mostly because we couldn't stay on topic. Notes about questions or job requirements quickly led into funny stories about her coworkers. If we talked about the drive, she would share something about her scary commute that morning. Every subject no matter how banal was fodder for conversation for us. We could have talked for hours, but she had to go back to work.

I could have been happy as it was, but something happened as we got ready to leave. We both needed to use the restroom; we had just had coffee and sat for an hour after all, and we headed there at the same time. Both rooms were off the same small hallway, with an entrance in the middle and the two restrooms on opposite sides. We chatted as we went in, but as we stepped into the adjoining hallway where we were invisible to the other customers; she turned and gave me a hug.

I know, it was just a hug. But it wasn't just a hug, if you know what I mean. There are hugs you give buddies when you haven't seen them in a while, hugs you give your family. All of those usually involve stopping a little distance away with our feet and leaning forward. This was not one of those. She stepped all the way in to me, her feet between mine. She put her arms around me, and pulled herself close, pressing her entire body flat against me. I could feel every inch of her from the cheek she laid on my chest, to her breasts, stomach, and her legs. She held me just a big longer than was quite comfortable, then leaned back with our bodies still touching and her arms still around me,and thanked me for the diversion from work.

Then she was off, and so was I, wondering if what if anything had just happened.

So yeah, I've been thinking about that hug every day since. I don't want to seem like one of those obsessed sort of guys, but let's face it when the woman you have loved from a distance for 20 years gives you a hug like that it makes an impression.

In the meantime, back to the daily grind. Kids off to school, go to work, evening Netflix with my wife to unwind, I really don't have anything to complain about. It sounds like my wife has a few guys interested in her, too, which always makes me happy. The last few days at work she has had several give her their phone number; and a few more drop some incredibly terrible pick-up lines.

"Hey baby, you're so sexy I want to drink your bathwater" for example. I mean, who in the hell would actually say that to someone? Do they seriously think there is any chance that would work? Blows my mind somedays.

One fellow though, Bill, that guy definitely has the inside track. Last night Nicole "worked late" and the two of them spent a quite a bit of time together. Didn't quite have sex, apparently, but sounds like they had a very good time regardless. He's a great guy; I've been friends with him for years. He is a martial arts instructor and firearms instructor, a good looking man, and Nicole has always had a thing for him. Since my background is in law enforcement, including several years as a training officer, we have a lot in common. He always struck me as the conservative type though, complete with drop dead gorgeous wife who was a cheerleader in high school and now teaches competitive cheer privately. I wouldn't have pegged the two of them as having an open relationship in any way. I wondered if Nicole and I being so open about ours might be the catalyst convincing them to give it a try. I'll have to ask him when I get a chance.

Nicole was closing the shop but didn't get home until about 345Am. She was all smiles and told me about it as we went to bed. She had some customers stay late, till almost 2.Bill spends 9 out of 10 of his Saturday nights at the shop and this was no exception. The neighborhood our shop is in isn't the greatest, and if Nicole is closing he usually stays late with her. I've always appreciated that, and sort of suspected there was more than simple chivalry involved. In any case, the customers finally left and he took the trash out etc. so my wife could "get out early". But then when he helped her carry a table into the basement, he took a moment to tell her he and his wife are interested in opening up, and that he is really taken with her.

He isn't the type of guy lie about anything, especially about cheating, and Nicole isn't shy. So I guess it didn't take long before they were kissing and making out. She said he was a gentleman, kissing and keeping his hands more-or-less away from anywhere too sensitive. They went back to finish up closing, she figured it was a nice end to a long day.

But when they were about to lock up and leave, he asked her if she would go downstairs with him again. One entire wall of the upstairs is window, so she had a pretty good idea that what he was interested in was something they wouldn't want to do in view of passerby's. More than happy to join him, she went downstairs and they took up right where they left off.

But this time, he had some time to realize she is definitely interested so with her encouragement he let his hands wander. He held her and they made out. In her words, "it was more animal instinct and raw desire than romance" which of course was perfect, it is definitely what my wife prefers. After a short time, he slid his hands under the back of her shirt so he could feel her skin. My wife never wears a bra or panties, and he realized that pretty quick Soon after, Nicole wanted more so she pulled up the front of her shirt to let his hands wander up there, and apparently really, really enjoyed what he did with her nipples.

She undid her belt and undid her pants, and he ran his hands down the back to cup and squeeze her bare ass, pushing her pants down at the same time. In my opinion her ass is by far her sexiest feature, so I'm guessing he had a hell of a good time. She said that before they were finished he had himself out and against the inside of her legs, but then stopped saying he didn't want to go that fast. He wanted to talk it over with his wife a bit, before going all the way. Probably a bit of cold feet, and I can't blame him. Opening up you marriage for the first time is scary as hell and likely to cause some seriously painful issues until you figure things out. So good for him, that just confirms my high opinion of the man. I know damn well that if I were in his position I would have bent her over and had her right there, new to non-monogamy or not.

So she locked up, came home and told me all about it. That in turn got me wound up and horny as hell. There is something about my sexy wife, telling me how happy and turned on she is, that never fails to get my motor running. Add a splash of knowing that another man knows how gorgeous she is, and it's a recipe for a night full of very interesting dreams.

Of course, when I dream I always dream of Kelly. Last night was no exception.

I am running late, on my first day at the new job. Awesome, I think. This would of course be the day the kids decided to have a total meltdown, couldn't find glasses or socks and suffered all the other random emergencies only 8 year olds could. Ah well, if I drive like hell and don't get pulled over I suppose I can avoid a ticket.

Gassing up the car, because of course I forgot to do that last night, I notice the blue light on my cell phone blinking. I check it, it's a text from Kelly, which brings a smile to my face.

"Good luck! I'm at the other building today, but we can grab a drink after work so you can tell me about it".

Between that text and a quick phone call from my wife wishing me luck as well, the day is looking up. I drive like hell and arrive with nearly 30 seconds to spare, then spend a whirlwind day learning the ins and outs of the new place. One particular woman stands out, an old friend from years ago I had lost track of. It makes the stress of the day a little less difficult to have a friendly face around. Not to mention, I am very much looking forward to drinks later.

I get out a few minutes late, and head over to Knickers where I am supposed to meet Kelly. She is still relatively new to her neighborhood and doesn't know many places that aren't right near her house. She suggested Knickers because it is only a couple blocks from her place and she had noticed it as she drove to work every day. It is one of those great little dive bars that manages to feel homey, rather than seedy, and they have some great wings.

When I walk in, the place is jammed to the rafters. It takes a few minutes to even find Kelly, who is standing off by the end of the bar trying not to get run down. She looks incredible. Work attire, yes, but heels and a blouse that emphasizes her curves. Her skirt is professional but very, very feminine, it does a great job of emphasizing the rounded shape of her buttocks without coming across as revealing. Sisters indeed, I think, Kelly and my wife both have an absolutely incredible ass. All together her clothing looks more like an outfit you would wear to an interview, or when the head of the company is visiting, not just ordinary Monday attire.

"What's going on?" I ask.

Kelly leans close so I can hear her, "Apparently there is some sort of thing going for the football game tomorrow, players signing autographs later or something." Despite the crowd and the general atmosphere of a dive bar, I immediately notice her perfume. Partly I notice because it is wonderful, fresh and slightly citrus, but mostly because I haven't known her to wear perfume except on formal occasions.

"I don't think we are going to find a seat", I yell, "much less talk".

Kelly nods her head, and takes me by the hand. She leads me towards the exit, and when we have gotten far enough to hear she lets go and says "I have some wine leftover from Thanksgiving, and a couple of Guinness. How about we just go there?"

I am certainly not going to say no to drinks and an empty house with her. I agree.

I follow her car to her house, and we head in at the same time. She is in front, opening the door, and I admire the way her hips sway slightly as she walks. The heels help, I'm sure, which is something else I can't really remember seeing her wear. In we go, through the hall. She leads me into the kitchen.

"Beer or wine?" she asks.

"Let's be fancy, go ahead with the wine"

With a smile, she grabs some glasses and a bottle out of her fridge. She hands me the glasses and I head out to the living room couch. I can hear the humming of the wine opener, and a minute later she comes out with the open bottle and a little tray of veggies. I had sat on the one end of the fairly small couch; she kicks off her heels and sits at the other. We turn to face one another as best we can, pour some wine, and relax.

The conversation as always is comfortable, talking about the various people I had met that day. She laughs easily, and tells me some fairly interesting bits of office gossip. My old friend is well thought of; apparently she is one of the folks you can really rely on. I'm glad for her, and pleased that she is as good a person as I believed she was. Before we realize it, Kelly and I finish the bottle and she goes to get another.

When she comes back, she has let her hair down and undone the top button of her blouse. Nothing over the top, but she looks a lot more comfortable than she did. When she sits this time, she turns and semi-crosses her legs in a way that lets her face directly towards me. However, as small as the couch is this makes it so our legs are touching. We talk more, this time about subjects away from work.

The conversation goes so well that if I had been with anyone else I wouldn't have noticed how she would occasionally reach across and rub my knee to emphasize a statement. I might not have noticed that at some point a second button had been undone on her shirt, which was now almost low enough for me to see her bra. I might not even have noticed that the conversation had been steered toward relationships, and how she wonders how my wife and I are able to make a non-exclusive marriage work.