Are You Sure About This? Ch. 01byCatalingus2005©
"Are you sure about this?" she asked, appraising herself in the mirror.
"I am," Dave Drake kissed his wife, Sharon, as he past by. He grabbed his car keys off the dresser, and turned. "You didn't think it was such an awful idea, either, not so long ago. Remember last week when we talked?"
"I was drunk."
He shrugged. "You'll be drunk tonight. You know Sam and Tina have been doing it for years."
"So who better to induct us?"
Sharon Drake shook her head. Auburn hair brushed between her shoulder blades, and she brushed a loose strand out of her face. "I don't know," she shrugged. "I mean, Tina's my best friend."
"And she's for it!" Dave quietly admired his wife's figure, gently enhanced by her little black dress, as he talked. His mind wandered to Tina's body. Thinner, with firm youthful breasts and toned, tanned legs. It excited him. "Honestly...who can you possibly count on more to look out for your best interest? If it's not working, they'll not only let us back out...they'll HELP us do it! It's even their house, so it's a safe place."
Sharon thought for a moment. She had grown up with Tina, and hadn't ever thought less of her friend for choosing the swinger lifestyle. It was even fun to hear some of her friend's bawdier tales of seduction. But she was still disappointed, and uncomfortable, when her husband started getting more and more curious about it a few months ago.
"Well..." she tisked, "I mean Sam IS really cute. And he's in much better shape than you, too."
She laughed and ran out of the room, dodging the pillow he hurled at her in the process.
It sounded so....slutty.
Not when Tina talked about it. Not even when Sharon applied the term to her best friend. Then, it was exotic and exciting. A part of Tina's much more glamorous, exciting life.
But when Sharon imagined naming herself as one, it felt...different. Still, she figured as they drove to the party, she was willing to play the game a bit. She'd already decided to extradite if it got too serious...let Dave have his little fantasy, and then go home before it got real. She knew she could count on Tina to help with that.
When they arrived, there was general small talk with Sam and Tina before the couples traded spouses for some light flirting. Sam was calm, collected as always. Tina seemed pretty drunk, and laughed a lot. Sharon glanced back as Sam led her away, to see Dave watching her in return as he pulled Tina towards the bar. The two exchanged a wide-eyed smile. It was kind of exciting. Like being naughty children.
And Sam WAS cute. The tall, muscled man with the deep voice had a surprising softness to his personality. She imagined it came from his work...he had to be able to win over clients easily. She was surprised to find herself thoroughly enjoying his attention. "Christ," she thought, "I've known this guy for years. Isn't it funny how this little idea makes him seem so...different to me."
The only upsetting thing was glancing over half an hour later and seeing her husband so blatantly enjoying the attention he was getting from Tina. He was smiling and nodding as the other woman, wearing a low cut dress that showed off her superior cleavage, leaned in and patted his chest as she talked. Shrugging it off, Sharon turned to give Sam her full attention.
Dave smiled passively, listening to the drunken woman's meandering dialogue. Clearly Tina had started the party early. Now, she was imbibing quickly and was only embarrassing herself.
This had been a mistake, he thought. That had been clear to him since he'd seen the gleam in his wife's eye as she sauntered off with Sam. The jolt it gave him may have held some excitement, but it was buried in a swamp of negative emotional responses. He glanced towards the other couple. She was over there, so focused on this other man that, unlike him, she didn't seem too concerned at all as to where her significant other was. As he watched, she didn't turn to look at him once.
Worse still, Tina was only getting more incredibly drunk...in the way that turned all of her charms into crass turn-offs. Her heated flirting had melted into comments that would make a prostitute blush. She slurred words, eyes blinking erratically. She stumbled, even though she was standing still. This woman held nothing for him.
Really, he was starting to realize, it had all been just a case of the grass seeming greener. The idea of sexual freedom, of that same careful exploration that new relationships used to bring. But the price was just too much. What a stupid fucking idea it all was. For a moment, looking at his friend's plastered wife, he felt sorry for them both.
He was so lucky to have Sharon. And now she was on the other side of the party, flirting it up with Sam. A shot of jealousy slipped up his spine like a lightening bolt, short but hot. He opened his mouth to excuse himself, to find her and tell her how much he loved her. Suddenly, Tina was wrapping her arms around him.
"So, hun, how'm I doing?" She leaned in to kiss him. He grabbed her by the shoulders, stopping her, and she looked up at him. Suddenly, he felt one of her hands snake between them.
"...so I watched him ransack his own office looking, knowing full well it was in his car all along."
Sharon laughed. One thing she'd always liked about Sam: he was hilarious. He sipped his drink as she corralled her giggles, and then he rubbed her shoulder. She had to fight the urge to pull away. As cute, as funny as he was, she wasn't comfortable with the intimacy of it. He sensed that, and pulled back.
"Sorry," he said. "I don't want you to be uncomfortable."
"I know," she smiled. "I'm having a great time, I really am. It's just Dave..." she glanced in her husband's direction, and stared wide-eyed. Tina was leaning against him, one arm around his waist, and the other openly massaging his groin. He had a firm grip on her shoulders. The groping couple turned so that he was facing away, blocking Sharon's view, and then his head dipped down towards Tina's face. He was kissing her? Already? It was that easy for him? How much did she mean to him, if he could do it that casually...here in front of everyone?"
"Are you ok?" Sam's voice, deep and resonant, made her realize she was staring with her mouth open.
"Sorry, yeah," she blushed. "I guess I'm just not as ready as he is."
"Don't worry about it," Sam smiled. "Look, this lifestyle...it's not about being unsatisfied with the person you love. Look at Tina and I...would you say we seem like a loving couple?"
"And yet here we are. If anything, this is a celebration of that. And it makes me appreciate her that much more."
"Really?" She looked up at him, blinking away tears. He smiled, handsome as always, and put a hand on her cheek.
"Of course," he said.
She frowned, looking back towards her husband. Amazingly, he was stumbling up the stairs with his arm around Tina's waist. He said something to her as they disappeared into the darkened hallway, and she laughed.
"Hey," Sam said, "if you're not ready for this kind of thing, we can still go and stop them."
She said nothing for a moment, gazing off into the now-silent upstairs. Then she turned and smiled at him. "No. No, this is what he wants."
"Is it what you want?"
She finished off her wine in a single gulp and set it aside. "Would you kiss me?" She asked. He leaned in.
Tina was passed out.
Dave had seen the warning signs when she'd groped him. He'd leaned in, asking how many she'd had, and she'd responded by trying to french him. In front of everyone.
Looking around desperately, he'd seen Sam put a hand to Sharon's cheek and wink at her as she leaned into it. Smooth bastard. If he didn't do something quick, this could get out of hand.
Somehow, he'd managed to get Tina up the stairs before she threw up.
"Is your husband planning anything inappropriate with my wife?" he'd asked as they climbed the stairs, and she'd just laughed.
Almost as soon as they'd hit the bathroom, she'd barfed. Most of it went in the toilet...the rest was all over her clothes, which she promptly removed, falling over in the process. Then she barfed again. They spent nearly twenty minutes there in the bathroom, him holding her hair and feeling for all the world like an idiot.
"Whadda fuckin' night!" she'd grunted at last, before falling asleep.
Dave managed to host the nude woman into bed, covering her up. Then, he made a half-hearted attempt to adjust his disheveled clothes before going to find his wife and warn his friend. When he got to the top of the stairs, he stumbled in shock. There they were, seated on the couch, darting in for open-mouthed kisses in-between whispers and giggles. Their faces stayed close, noses almost touching, as they traded words and saliva. Sharon's eyes had that seductive half-closed focused gaze that signified heightened arousal. How could she have gotten this far this fast? Had she even bothered to look over at all? How could she have missed Tina's drunken near-collapse? How could she not understand that things had fallen entirely apart?
Dave rushed down the stairs to get to them. Sharon leaned her head back, Sam's lips finding the sensitive parts under her jaw, and caught a glimpse of her husband's approach. She immediately jerked back, sitting up, blushing.
Sam blinked confusion at her, until he saw Dave too. Then he smiled. "Well?" He asked with a twinkle in his eye.
Dave wasn't sure what he meant, but he didn't have any interest in figuring it out. "Your wife is upstairs," he tried to sound casual, unaffected, "asleep. You might want to check on her. Honey, we need to leave."
Sam frowned. "Is something wrong, Dave? It's only 8:30."
"No," Dave lied. He was as embarrassed as he was hurt. This was all his fault, and now he was the party pooper. "Let's go."
Sharon said goodbye to Sam, kissing him on the cheek. Dave ignored the heat in his own cheeks at that. Together, they left.
Sharon didn't know what to think. Had she done something wrong? Had Tina disappointed Dave? Vice versa? The next day, she and Dave sat and ate breakfast silently. Dave was moody...but why? He worked an 11-7 that day, so after he left she called Tina to find out the whole story.
"Ugh," Tina grunted. "I couldn't really tell you."
"Please," Sharon pleaded. "He caught me kissing Sam, and he seems upset."
"First, he didn't catch you doing anything. It doesn't work that way. He was all over me, I remember THAT much. He put my hand on his cock and tried to kiss me. In front of everyone!" Suddenly her voice turned apologetic. "But he was just overeager...first timers often are. It's okay. Anyway, you were only indulging, just like he was. That's what swinging is....you weren't cheating, and neither was he."
"But, did he..."
A pause. "He was all over me, uhh...I remember going upstairs with him, he had his hand around my waist..."
"And I woke up about ten minutes ago with a headache. My husband tells me that I was naked when he came upstairs, and that my clothes were in an entirely different room."
"Does it feel like...you know?"
A coughing laugh, hangover low. "Honey, I hurt all over, but if he was upstairs only twenty minutes I'm not likely to be able to tell. You know?"
"Oh." She tried to hide her nervous disappointment.
"Seriously...you don't think he got me all naked and then left? Were his clothes different when he came back downstairs?"
Sharon bit her lip. "They were pretty messed up."
"I'm sure we fucked."
"Sorry. Had sex...whatever. Do you need me to come over? If you're having jealousy issues, I can..."
Sharon giggled in spite of herself. "You'd better stay in bed. But what should I do?"
"This was all his sell. Fair?"
"And he almost certainly humped me, fair?"
She flinched. "Yes."
"And he didn't punch Sam for making out with you? In fact, seemed apologetic about pulling you away?"
"Then I think you have it backwards."
"What do you mean?"
"Maybe HE feels guilt because he took it all the way and you didn't."
"He talked you into this, encouraged it, and then moved too fast. Right now, it's lopsided. He probably feels like he cheated. Until you sleep with Sam, Dave is the bad guy."
"But then why did he pull me away?"
"Who knows. Guilt. Embarrassment at being done so quickly. Panic. Could be anything."
"Tina?" Sharon asked, "Could you put Sam on the phone."
A chuckle. "Sure, hon. Love ya."
Sharon listened to the shuffling sounds of the phone being handed over, and Sam's low greeting.
"Sam, would...would you come over for...a late lunch?"
"Sure," he said. "What time do you want me?"
She blushed a bit. "Th...three hours?"
"I'll be there."
Dave felt horrible. He wasn't getting any work done. What should he do? Sharon seemed to have really enjoyed the party...and all he felt was jealousy and guilt. He'd really fucked the whole thing up.
He stared blankly at the papers crowding his desk, unable to give them any attention. If he admitted to Sharon that he'd had a change of heart, would she be mad? Would she feel like he'd set her up to be the bad guy? He supposed he had to say something...before the next time they saw Sam and Tina, anyway. He shivered to think of what might happen if he let the whole farce continue.
By early afternoon he had made up his mind. He would leave work early...show up as a surprise, bringing flowers and letting her know that he realized it was all his fault. This whole mistake could be put behind them. It felt right.
He left the office at 2:00, stopping only to buy flowers and rent a romantic movie his wife had been asking to see. He smiled as he drove, even letting a small unnoticed laugh out in his anticipation.
Everything was going to be okay.
Sam arrived at the house at 2:00.
After showering and shaving her legs, Sharon had spent an hour just deciding what to wear. She ran the gamut from dirty fantasies of opening the door in sexy lingerie, playing the casual seductress like Tina, to fighting nervous urges to wear bulky clothes and cover everything up. Each article she considered putting on, her mind flashed an image of Sam pulling off. She felt an alarmingly giddy excitement as she toyed with the options...like a schoolgirl getting ready for her first ever date.
She took comfort in this feeling, scary as it was. Focusing on the excitement, she could beat the paranoia and fear. She wouldn't let her husband down.
In the end, she went with a spaghetti string tank top that clung tightly, revealing the tiny paunch of her stomach but pushing her boobs up provocatively. She matched it with a short frilly skirt that showed plenty of leg. In a fit of boldness she had initially left panties out of the equation, but she chickened out when the doorbell rang. Hoisting low cut bikini bottoms up over her derriere, she stumbled down the hallway and threw open the door. Immediately she worried that the swiftness of her appearance made her seem to eager.
Sam smiled, tall and strong, looking damn good. Ten years she'd known this man, and while he'd always been attractive it had never really effected her before. She wondered if she'd ever be able to ignore it, now. His smooth features, great personality, and fit body made him, she realized, out of her league. But not Tina's.
She wondered if he desired her. What a typically bad time, she thought, to start getting insecure.
"Afternoon," he nodded. "You look spectacular."
He was openly appraising her, his eyes following not just her breasts and torso but even tracing the curves of her arms and legs. She blushed, smoothing her skirt nervously. "Thank you." Suddenly, Sharon realized she hadn't made anything for lunch. That was the only thing keeping this from being a straight-up booty call...from being something a little dirtier than she was comfortable with. For a moment she didn't know what to say.
"You should invite me in," Sam whispered.
"W..won't you come in?" She smiled, stepping aside so he could enter.
"Thank you," he said, and did so. "You're nervous."
"Oh, does it show?" She gave a nervous laugh.
He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "Would it make it easier if I take the lead here?"
"Oh, please do."
He reached one hand out to her.
Forty minutes later Dave Drake drove up to, and then right by, his own house.
Sam's car was there? What the fuck was Sam's car there for? Only one reason came to mind, why this man might be at his house while he was away. This man who had tasted her lips, who had left her with flushed skin and heavily lidded eyes. He parked a block away, running back towards his home with fear and rage in his heart.
"Please, Jesus, no," he stammered over and over as he ran. She wouldn't. Please say she wouldn't.
Getting to the front of the house, he first peaked through the curtained window. No sign of any people. He could make out one of Sharon's snug-fitting tank tops lying discarded on the floor. A man's shirt lay nearby.
He ran around to peer in the other windows, finding nothing. The main bedroom curtains, usually open during the day to allow for natural light, were shut ominously tightly. He put his ear to the window, and his heart collapsed at the sound of a female gasp. A clear, light-hearted gasp of pleasure.
That was it. He was too late. His wife, following his own damn suggestions, was in their bed with another man. And enjoying it. Dave looked at the shadowy reflection in the window and saw the man who ruined everything.
Dejected, angry, broken-heartedly, he made his way back to the car. For long moments he stared silently at the materials for his apologetic surprise lying limply on the passenger seat. Then, he started the car back up.
Across the street, an old man walking his dog ambled up to the lamppost and paused for a moment while his terrier claimed it. He only experienced a moment's curiosity as the black SUV pulled away, revealing a dozen discarded red roses, all fresh and bright.
Sharon gasped again as Sam's soft lips grazed her neck, his hand exploring her torso with a casual certainty. The exposed, warm skin of his muscular chest brushed her peaked nipples, and she felt a rush of heat.
Still, her hands went uncontrollably palm up to that glorious, hairless chest, and he stopped. Once again, he shifted from between her legs until he was lying next to her, propped up on one elbow. They were under the covers, still fully dressed from the waist down, and this was not the first pause they'd endured.
"It's okay," he said simply, as though they were having a casual conversation. "No guilt."
She wanted to say many things. How good he felt on top of her, how this was the most sexually excited she'd been in years, how badly she wanted it.
How she couldn't. She just...couldn't. As easy as it had been to get this far, Sharon could not make herself allow him any further access to her. She couldn't do this to Dave. Not even FOR Dave.
Instead, she sighed. The lighthearted arousal made it difficult to think straight. He didn't help matters, as he reached out with one finger to trace the curves of her still-exposed breasts and stomach. A flutter, almost like a pleasurable tickle, made her shiver.
"You know," he continued, "I've been a part of this lifestyle for seven years. I know when a woman is interested..." she turned to look at him, and he traced her jaw with his finger, "...and when a woman is forcing herself to move faster than she cares to."
She blushed, turning back to stare at the ceiling. "I do want it," she whispered.
"I know." He lay down fully, then, his hand slipping around the back of her neck. "Come here."