Consensual Infidelity - EXCERPT
1- - Fantasy
Nestled in my comfy bed in my warm flannel pajamas, thankful to be back home, I glance at Justin's reflection in the bathroom mirror and report, "I got my fill of Girl Scout songs, crafting, and camping this weekend. I'm loving this bed right now. What did you boys do all weekend without us?"
Justin finishes brushing his teeth and turns out the bathroom light. Sauntering toward the bed with a macho swagger and a smirk, he answers, "You know, guy stuff. Video games, sports, movies with explosions, eating out."
"Hmmm…," I pretend to ponder, "so, Nick Jr. on the Leapster and McDonald's Happy Meals?"
Justin deflates his chest and grins, "Yeah. And lots of Star Wars on DVD."
We climb into our respective sides of the bed, switching off our matching bedside lamps. We meet in the middle of the enormous bed, sinking into the unspoken agreement for reunion sex. My blonde wavy hair spills across his pale, freckled shoulder as my arm wraps around his soft belly. My husband may not be cut like a Calvin Klein model, but I much prefer that he spends his time wrestling with the kids than lifting weights at the gym. "It's so good to be back," I sigh. "There wasn't much chance for any snuggling with those Girl Scout moms."
I close my eyes in the peaceful moment, reveling in the heat of another body rather than a sweaty sleeping bag. Justin absently strokes my arm, then stops. Shifts a bit. I assume he's thinking about when he can make his transition from talking to sex.
"Kaysee?" he asks as he strokes my arm again.
I feel his body tense a bit as I answer quietly, "Hmmm?"
"Have you ever thought about having sex with a woman?"
My eyes pop open like a napping child stung by a bee. The man who is known to his work buddies as "Mr. Nice Guy" is asking me what? He speaks the question gently, with compassion and genuine curiosity, but what on Earth is he talking about?
The tension in Justin's body makes him fidget and tighten, evidence of the risk he knows he's taking in asking such a loaded question. Some women might freak out, be mad or revolted. He's banking that I won't.
I stare at the glow of the digital clock across his body, feeling the need to ground myself in the reality of the moment. I couldn't be more surprised if the conservative and devoted father of my children had told me he was a woman.
Have I ever thought of having sex with a woman? Of course I've thought of it. Doesn't everybody? I've never actually discussed it with my girlfriends, of course, but I assume everybody thinks of it sometimes.
I stammer and dodge. "I....uh... thought it was interesting to see your aunt kissing her girlfriend."
"Yes, that is interesting," he replies patiently, "but that isn't what I asked you."
"So what was it that you asked again?" I'm trying to be funny, but I'm also stalling for time. If I say no, I have never thought of having sex with a woman, I come off as a prude. If I say yes, I have, he may worry that he's not enough for me, that I'm looking for something more than he can offer me.
"I just asked if you have ever thought about having sex with a woman. It's not a huge deal. I'm just curious."
Now I'm curious. "Any particular woman?" Was he fantasizing about somebody else while I was away?
"No, just in general. Have you ever wondered what it would be like?"
The answer is really very simple because the only answer I can give my husband of nearly a decade is the truth. We always tell the truth. So with exaggerated hesitation, I reply with a questioning tone, "Yeeeees…"
In the semi-darkness, I can feel the smile pressing its way across his clean-cut, boyish face. "Rea-lly..." comes the amused response, smelling of toothpaste as he turns his face to mine.
"Well, not like really wanting to," I backtrack, propping myself up on my elbow to see his satisfied grin in the moonlight, "just kind of thinking what it would be like, not in a lesbian way or anything, you know, just out of curiosity."
Now he laughs out loud. "Don't worry, it's okay. I think that's very sexy."
"Really?" I answer, relieved, but curious.
"Sure. You know it's every man's fantasy, right?"
"Your … wife having sex with another woman?"
Justin clarifies with a tilt of the head, "Well, that too. But mostly you, another woman, and me all having sex together."
I push the heavy covers off my heated body as I take a moment to process. Of course I've heard of ménage a trois. I just thought it was a kinky, crazy thing for sluts and twins. Something that people do in their twenties after a night of heavy drinking. Or something that people did in the sixties, before AIDS. My sweet, conventional, church-school-educated husband is into that?
When I ask him, he replies with a horizontal hug, "Don't worry, just a fantasy. You, my dear, are more than enough for me."
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|Publish Date||May 3, 2012|
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