Becoming a Unicorn?

In the late 1990's, I gladly accepted a re-assignment from the London office of the consultancy company for which I was working to head-up their office in Cape Town, my home city. As well as the promotion, the change of environment was a great relief.

As far as the living in London went, I'll leave aside the horrible weather and the hassles of an overcrowded city with a dysfunctional public transport system. For me, as a woman, there was an over-arching sense of being under threat. I'd live in Rio de Janeiro, one of the most violent cities in the world, for more than 3 years and never had any such feeling. In London, I think it was to do with the public drunkenness and the number of vagrants on the streets in the evenings. Then, when it came to obnoxious men, London seemed to have well more than its fair share of them. It actually prompted me to join a self-defence course for women at my gym. The instructor was an ex-special forces guy and, to this day, he was the coolest and most congruent guy I have ever met. What I learned on that course didn't change the feeling of threat but it did give me some confidence that I might be able to deal with whatever might happen. So, all in all it was a heartfelt good riddance to the British capital.

As for the male-dominated London office, all that I will say is that it was hard to believe that so many feeble and insecure men, together with a number of hardcore misogynists, could all be assembled in one company.

So, Cape Town was indeed a great relief. As well as being able to put my own stamp on the office, I saw it as an opportunity to revitalise my personal life and especially my intimate life. I was rapidly approaching 40 and had devoted the great majority of my life to my career albeit with occasional encounters, a few affairs with other women and the odd man. This story is about how I began to expand my sexual proclivities.

On my return home, one of the first things I did was to reclaim the apartment I had bought some 15 years earlier. It was on the top floor of a newish, beachfront block in the prime location of Sea Point. I was living and working overseas for all of those 15 years so I let the apartment to a series of tenants and on my return, since Cape Town was becoming an international destination and a very cosmopolitan city, it was worth more than ten times what I had originally paid. The block was well maintained with good security but the apartment itself was in need of extensive refurbishment.

Settling into a new job with considerable responsibility as well as organising and supervising a refurbishment of the apartment was never going to be a viable proposition so I hired an interior designer. After a number of interviews and checking out some of their other projects and references, I opted for a Swedish woman named Hanna. My intuition told me she was the one as soon as I met her but I checked her out as I had done with the others. Her previous projects reflected my own tastes and the quality of the work was difficult to fault. In my finalise analysis she was by far the best choice and I engaged her to design and manage the work. In the meantime I rented another apartment in a nearby block.

Hanna was more or less my age and looked just what she was: Scandinavian. She had short blond hair and fine features; an embryo of the look of Robin Wright as Claire Underwood. Her skin tone suggested that she enjoyed the Cape summer sun and she almost always wore some kind of jeans with a variety of stylish tops. Altogether she was a very attractive woman but there was much more to her than that. Whilst she had a feminine charm which would be useful in pacifying my neighbours who were sure to be disrupted as the refurbishment work progressed, I felt she would be more than sufficiently assertive to handle any disputes that she might encounter with the various contractors needed to carry out the project.

Hanna and I had a series of meetings to work through my thoughts and ideas and I liked the way that she picked up on me, returning time and again with sketches, floor plans and mood boards that showed possible colour schemes and textures, as well as projected costs. It all served in helping me to clarify my own thoughts, eliminating what was not structurally possible, and to take on board new ideas from her side. It was a rewarding experience and by the end of it I was confident that the outcome would exceed my original aspirations for the apartment.

It was during one of those meetings that I met her husband, Viktor, who was also Swedish. He was a good looking man with dark hair greying at the temples and perhaps in his mid-40's. He was the one who produced the sketches and plans. As well as working with Hanna he did freelance work for some of the smaller architectural companies, illustrating and draughting. To me he seemed quiet and studious though not without a cool charm and a nice smile, and his work spoke of serious talent.

Two weeks after I had signed off on the design and various other documents, work had started on the project and I met Hanna on a Saturday morning at the apartment. It looked like it had been hit by a bomb, stripped bare of all its fittings, a wall in the process of demolition, floor tiles half removed and rubble everywhere. It was a horrific site.

"I know what you are thinking," Hanna said with a chuckle and putting her arm around my shoulders. "Don't worry, it will all come together. I will make this place a dream home for you. Trust me, I know what I am doing."

I looked into her eyes and she tightened her hold on me. Her eyes were re-assuring and did I see a hint of desire there too? I couldn't be at all sure of that and, besides, my sole concern was for the shambles that surrounded us.

"I guess you have seen all this kind of thing before," I said after taking a deep breath.

"Many times," she responded, "but in two weeks time all this mess will be cleared and we will have most of the new electrical and plumbing work completed. It's my pet project and when it's all done I want you to be the happiest you have ever been in your entire life."

"I know you do," I said, turning to her and giving her a brief hug. "It was a bit of a shock at first sight but I want you to know that I have full confidence in you."

"Thank you," she said. "How about we grab a quick lunch? There's a little Italian place just around the corner.'

"Good idea," I agreed.

It was the first of a number of such get-togethers, sometimes with Viktor present, and we gradually got to know each other; our backgrounds, our work lives, our plans and aspirations and our mutual interest in dance but apart from that we kept things on a professional level.

She had all the attributes that attracted me: a body shape and height similar to mine, stylish in the way she dressed and presented herself, energy and capability in what she did, well balanced in herself and a warm personality. However, to all appearances she was a happily married woman. If it had been otherwise, I would have made a few subtle moves on her to see how she responded.

At what was to be the final progress meeting with Hanna, I met her at the apartment on a Wednesday afternoon. It had taken just 3 months for the place to be transformed and it was looking sensational. It was modern and functional with no unnecessary embellishments; rather it relied upon proportions and the colour scheme for its effect.

"Wait until you see it at night with the lights on," advised Hanna. "It will be stunning."

She offered to help me move in and we set a date for delivery of my various items of furniture which had been waiting in storage. It was just another couple of weeks to go before I could get out of rented accommodation and into my own beautiful home.

*

As well as attending to the apartment, I made a point of catching up with an old friend, Lydia. We'd grown up together and while we were at school we were inseparable. We even attended ballet class together, though it wasn't really her thing. As time went on and I was in my late teens, I managed to win a scholarship for overseas students to attend the Royal Ballet School in London which was a huge privilege. I lived there for most of 20 years, going to university after abandoning ballet, then finding a job.

Lydia and I had kept in touch and we would always meet up on my various trips back to Cape Town, including attending her wedding some 10 years earlier. Unfortunately, her marriage hadn't worked out and they had divorced after less than 4 years, and I hadn't seen her since then.

When I caught up with her she had really blossomed. She'd gained a little weight and she was looking more stylish and outgoing than I had ever seen her, not that she was ever dowdy. She was living with a man friend and had gone into partnership with him in his property business taking responsibility for marketing. Perhaps that is what had inspired the changes I saw in her.

We met up regularly and our relationship readily renewed itself. Several times I had dinner with her and her partner, James, and I was happy to see the fondness between them. It seemed that after her initial marriage disappointment, her life was working out well for her and I felt that was just what she deserved.

One evening, after I had moved into my refurbished apartment and James was out of town on business, I invited her around for dinner.

"This place must be worth a fortune," she said looking around. "If you ever want to sell, just let me know and I'll get you an amazing price."

"You will be my first port of call," I responded, "but it won't be anytime soon."

When we had finished eating, she asked me about my personal life. She knew that I was into women but what she didn't know was there had been the occasional man as well.

"I've been so busy since I've been back that I've not had much chance to socialise so at the moment I don't have much of a sex life at all," I told her, omitting any mention of the odd escort girl that I would call upon from time to time.

"What I guess you don't know is that I've expanded my options a little and there has also been the odd encounter with a man," I went on. "The problem is that there are so few guys that I find attractive and are available, not that I'm looking for any kind of permanent man in my life. Now that I'm more settled, maybe I'll get out some more."

"Really," she responded. "So you are happy to go both ways when it's with the right person?"

"That sums it up," I replied.

"Well, this is something that might interest you and I would never to talk to anyone about it but you," she said, a touch nervously. "James has opened my mind to a lot of things besides vanilla sex and mostly I've loved it. One thing that we do sometimes is to meet with another couple and swap partners. It has to be the right couple of course and, well, I do find the experience to be very erotic."

"Wow," I said, thinking that she really had blossomed. "But, doesn't it create jealousies?"

"For the majority of couples I imagine it would," she answered, "but we both like to see each other with someone else, especially James. It's quite a turn on for me to see him doing something with another woman that he mostly does with me. He'd like to see me with another woman but I'm still not into that. What he really likes is to see me with another guy and that's something I like as well. It's not the porn version, if you've ever seen that; it's more that they are both taking care of me rather than just using my body."

"Lydia," I said, "you have really come out an awful lot and I'm delighted for you."

"So you don't disapprove?" she asked.

"Of course not," I responded. "I think it is wonderful for you, and you can be absolutely sure that you can trust my integrity. But I don't have a man friend, and I'm not particularly looking for one, nor am I looking for a permanent woman friend for that matter. So, I'm not sure how it might work out for me."

"Do you know what a unicorn is?" she asked. "It's a mythical creature, right?"

"Yes," I answered.

"Well, it's also the name given to a bi-sexual woman who is happy to go with couples. They are so rare that they are regarded as mythical, hence unicorns. They are also very much in demand and do you know how many bi-curious wives are out there?"

"OK, I understand what you are thinking," I said. "Actually, I had a threesome like that and it was the first time I ever took a man. It was OK but he was a bit of a tight fit. It was easier the second time we did it and the third time was better still though it wasn't orgasmic. My woman friend supervised it all and that made it easier I think. He was her occasional boyfriend so they worked on me together."

"So perhaps it's an option for you to do something like that again," she said.

"Maybe," I said, "but back then it happened by chance. How would I ever go about actually arranging it for myself?"

"I can help you," she answered, "and you wouldn't have to do any arranging because they would be falling over themselves to catch someone with your looks."

"Who are 'they'?" I asked.

"OK, I'll explain," she replied. "There are places where couples can go to meet others who are looking for hook-ups. That's how James and I got involved. There's a place in one of those up-market southern suburbs and it is very exclusive so you need an introduction. Nothing actually happens there, it's just a meet and greet and whatever arrangements might be made for later. I can assure you that a single woman like you would be more than welcome. If you like the idea, we can introduce you."

"What if there is someone there who knows me, such as a business contact?" I asked.

"Everyone worries about that," she replied. "It will only mean that you share the same secret about each other and so it's a matter of mutual trust and self protection."

"I'll have to think about it," I said. "It amazes me that all this goes on in Cape Town and I never knew about it."

After Lydia left, I reflected on the conversation I'd had with her. She'd never talked with me about her sex life in any kind of detail before but it confirmed my earlier assessment of her becoming more outgoing and perhaps the influence of her partner, James.

Over the following days, I didn't have to think too much. It was a matter of becoming more adventurous which was what I had already resolved to do. From what Lydia had said, it was a safe and discrete environment and there was no kind of compulsion to take part in anything. I called her and said I would accept her offer and from there on, it was only a matter of making arrangements.

*

On a Friday evening, I met Lydia and James in an open parking area in the centre of Cape Town. We'd decided to use separate cars which would leave us free for whatever follow-up arrangements might result from the evening's escapade. We drove in tandem to a large property just outside the very up-market suburb of Constantia. At the gate we were met by a security guard who checked that our names were on his list before he allowed us access. Lydia had told me that they kept records of names of members but it was OK to use a pseudonym and I called myself Liz Tyler.

At the end of a long driveway stood an impressive house with a large parking area at the front. There were perhaps 20 or 30 expensive cars already there but still plenty of space. We were met at the door by an attractive, skimpily clad young woman who again checked us in on her list and I learned that, since I was a single woman, the membership fee was waived. We were then ushered into a large function room and offered Champagne.

I looked around the room and it had all the semblance of an ordinary but exclusive cocktail party. The faces were mainly white but there was the odd black couple as well, and the average age was perhaps 40+. Everyone was very well dressed and there was lots of expensive looking jewellery on display. A couple of young women, very much like one who had greeted us, were serving drinks and there was soft music in the background. It was actually an impressive sight and it seemed rather incongruous to me that it was really all about sex.

To my great surprise, one of the first people I saw was Hanna, my interior designer, and her husband Viktor. They were standing talking with two other couples and her gaze eventually caught a glimpse of me. Her eyes widened and she immediately beckoned me to join her. Explaining the situation to Lydia, who encouraged me to go, I saw Hanna do the same kind of thing to those she was with and we met in the middle of the room.

Since I'd known her, I'd only ever seen her wearing jeans and for the first time I saw her actual legs. She was wearing a lovely dress, just above knee length which exposed slender, lightly tanned, well- shaped calves with a lot of definition. It spoke of someone who kept herself fit and it was something that always appealed to me. I noted that her hair was styled a little differently, taken back from her face and she was wearing a little more make-up than usual. All in all she looked super-chic.

"I'm astonished to see you here, Gill," she said.

"Likewise," I responded, "but what a nice co-incidence."

"Let's go outside onto the patio," she said. "We can find a table there and it will be more private."

I checked back to Lydia and James and noticed they were already engaged with another couple so I was happy to follow Hanna. There were several groups seated at tables but plenty of space to find a quiet spot. One of the waitress girls immediately replenished our glasses and we were free to chat.

"I love the way you look in that dress," I said.

"Thank you," she responded, "and you look as polished as ever."

"I'm amazed that a venue like this exists here in Cape Town," I went on.

"We were too," she said. "It's all so civilised and you would never imagine that the underlying theme was all about sex."

"That's exactly what I was thinking," I said.

"I have to say that, the reason I was so surprised to see you here is that I assumed you were just into women," she said. "It wasn't because of the way you look, not at all, but there didn't seem to be a man in your life and I didn't think you would be celibate."

"I understand," I laughed, "and you'd be more or less right. The first time I went with a man was around 10 years ago and I discovered that I could quite like it. There have only been a very few since then but I've decided that it's time to expand my horizons."

"For Viktor and me, it's just the third time we've been here," she told me. "We've never followed-up with anyone yet and I don't think the couples we've met tonight will work out for us either. We're quite open-minded about sex and, like you, we felt it was time to try something new. We were on holiday in Mauritius a couple of years ago and a young English woman was happy to join us. It worked out really well. Then a year later, back in Mauritius, we met an attractive French woman. Come the time to get intimate, it turned out that she wasn't really interested in me and all she wanted was a fuck with Viktor. They made out for a minute or two but then she moved away and said it wasn't working for her. She slipped into her dress and shoes, grabbed her underwear and left the room. It was quite embarrassing and it knocked Viktor's confidence quite a lot. Anyway, here we are, trying again."

"What a horrible experience with the French woman," I said.

"Yes, it was," she said.

Then, after a short pause, she said, "I'd like to put something to you and I hope I'm not going to offend you but, since we are here in this place, I think we are probably looking for the same kind of thing. I think you and I have got on very well, and you've met Viktor a few times. So, how do you feel about joining in with us?"