Damian Ch. 08: WHAT'S HAPPENING?

08) WHAT'S HAPPENING, EXACTLY?

​ The one where Damian is challenged to look at a new future with a new partner.

Damian and Cassie, his dominatrix wife who's asked for a divorce, are exploring the possibility of reuniting, but there's a complication: Cynthia, Cassie's submissive new partner. Cassie has asked Damian if he would consider visiting them and taking a "baby step" to see if he can deal with a third in their relationship.

"Yes."

It's the first word I say to Cass as we start our now-weekly sunset walk in the park.

She smiles at me slowly as she understands it's my answer to her invitation from last week. She wants me to better understand her relationship with Cynthia in a "baby step" to see if there's some way of dealing with this convoluted relationship. She knows it's hard for me: I don't share well. But as she accepts my answer, she says "Thank you, Damian." Then she gets on her tiptoes and kisses my cheek.

"You know, Damian... therapists actually suck at it when we're too close. You're right... I should've known how to handle Lily. I should've seen you for what you really were and not demonized your journey. I shouldn't have allowed myself down that well of sorrow and self-pity.

"Freud once was asked 'how many people need therapy?' His answer was correct: 'statistically speaking... one out of one of us.'

"I was too close. Too close to it all...."

We walk quietly and amicably... what we've needed to say has been said and more conversation seems unnecessary. What we say tonight, we say just by being present. Feeling each other's existence as an integral part of our own.

And I realize we're holding hands. I don't remember who took whose hand. But we're holding hands.

Watching the sunset reflected in the calm river water while leaning over the side of the arched stone bridge, it happens. I can't look at her when I say it. But it's time to communicate.

"I still love you, Cass."

She looks up at me and touches, then holds my shoulder, turning me to her. She wraps her arms around me and nuzzles her face into my chest.

"I still love you, Damian Hayes."

And we both fight the urge to sob.

".. and I'm still angry at you, Damian."

"...and I still hate you, Cassie."

But we're still hugging.

"Damian, we have to find our way out. This is killing us both."

I just nod.

And we're still hugging.

And we're still hugging.

--

Tuesday rolls around. I don't even press the doorbell before Cynthia lets me in - someone in the lobby or her video doorbell must've alerted her. She's wearing a beautiful short silk dress with embroidery all around. It accents her gorgeous long legs.

It's a beautiful, giant penthouse with grand open spaces and meticulously decorated accents. I ask myself how a person can live in a museum.

I guess there's money in perversion...?

Cynthia gives me a hug and a kiss. Wow... this is our first kiss - it's so casual and natural, but: this is it! Her lips are soft and sensuous.

Then Cass comes from another room, still dressed in a demure blue suit - probably straight from work -- and gives me a hug and a kiss too... this one more lingering. I'm given the tour and notice that there's a locked room in the bedrooms hall that isn't on the agenda. Remembering what Cynthia does for a living, I'm guessing that's her "red room." It sends a shiver up my spine, but I sense something I don't expect - the shiver may not all be because of fear: there might be a measure of titillation in that shiver. And that revelation surprises me. I'm surprising myself.

Cass excuses herself for a minute and returns in a comfortable gray skirt and white button-down blouse.

We sit to dinner. It feels like it should be awkward, but it's just collegial, with a hint of expectation in the air. The wine flows freely, but I have only a glass or two. I need to be present, fully, for this.

After dinner and dessert - Cassie knows baklava is my favorite - we retire to the living room and they sit me on the couch, one on each side of me. They each take a hand and snuggle into me.

The furniture is arranged oddly... another couch facing us straight ahead and armless chairs on the left and right.

Cassie starts, "you don't have to do anything tonight, Damian. I think it would be healthy if you just watch. Would that be okay with you?" I nod... my vocal cords don't seem to be attached to my brain at the moment.

Cynthia squeezes my bicep then excuses herself.

They've orchestrated this scene too.

Cass walks behind the couch and starts stroking the tendon on the side of my neck as we wait. The lighting fades to an erotic, suggestive, shadowy noir... clearly set on some automatic system. It's very theatrical. Gentle, sinuous music plays and as we wait, I'm struck by the beautiful view from her penthouse window: the lights of the city blazing, the cars scurrying about, the squalid labors that make it function. Here, we're above that. We're an abstraction to that messy world.

Eventually Cynthia slinks back through the doorway to the middle of the room wearing a sky blue silk robe. She stops about ten feet away and stands there, facing and looking at me. She's demure but intent. Seductive, but submissive.

Blue is my favorite color. Cassie knows that.

Cass whispers in my ear. Her words tickle me like fall leaves blowing around the trees. "Cynthia sees you, Damian. She accepts you." Cass moves to, then whispers in my other ear. "She knows that you and I are eternally connected, Damian. She's also connected to me. And now, she wants to be connected to you. We both want for this to happen..." She moves back to the first ear "It could be beautiful, Damian... it could be beautiful."

Wow... that's intriguing. This doesn't feel like the ambush I feared. It's... really alluring. I soften as she explains how this scene is intended... where they might want to go.

"But first, we all... all of us... we all need for you to accept our connection. I know you, Damian. And I know how you feel. I know this is hard for you." She moves back to the other ear and rubs my temples. "Please just sit here and watch. If it's too difficult for you, I understand... we understand. You can leave or just ask us to stop."

Every experience I've had - all the therapy and the time with Tara - has led me to this moment. I am so much more able than Cassie thinks; because she doesn't know who I've become either...

I breathe deeply and nod. I see Cynthia look over my shoulder at Cass then look straight into my eyes.

Smiling demurely, Cynthia opens the robe and lets it slide off her shoulders into a puddle at her feet. Her expression morphs to one of pure seduction. She drops her head a bit, seducing me with her eyes, her nakedness, her willingness... her very being: physical and emotional. We know so much: we're already intellectually intimate. Now, she's offering me a sensual intimacy and I feel a hitch in my throat at the revelation.

I take her in. She has a fine body and clearly takes care of herself. She slowly turns around so I can see all of her and I learn there's a big tattoo across her whole back. It's a stylized black and white rose in sort-of a tribal pattern, with a drop of red blood dripping from a thorn. I will later learn it's a reference to a series of books about submission and masochism by Jaqueline Carey, but in the moment, I appreciate the art for art's sake.

Cynthia completes her turn and kneels before us in the supplicant pose: on her knees, legs spread wide, hands on her knees, palms up, spine straight, breasts thrust out and looking down demurely. Completely open, exposed and vulnerable.

Cassie rubs my shoulders and whispers in my ear, "are you okay, Damian? Can we go on?"

I nod, nonplussed by the sight.

Cassie walks slowly to Cynthia and turns them both sideways to me now, Cynthia on the left and Cassie on the right. Cassie is holding Cynthia's head. She's caressing it, and Cynthia is looking up at Cass adoringly.

Then Cass takes something from Cynthia's hand - a collar I realize - and looks the submissive in the eye. Cynthia bends her neck sideways for her Domme to attach the collar. And it's fastened. My wife rubs her fingers sensuously around the collar and smiles approvingly at her lover, as Cynthia looks downward submissively.

That moment is so real. It's so raw for me. I am present with all of me. I am absorbed: I am here, now, watching, looking. I'm trying to accept, but... This is not the wife I grew with. It bothers me, though strangely, it excites me too. Then I imagine that collar on my neck and it sends chills down my spine.

Cass commands Cynthia to strip her too and the submissive does: again, slowly, teasingly. This is a show for me as well as an act of love for them and she's playing it well.

They both look at me as if to check in with me. Cassie is smiling. Reading me. While Cynthia looks submissive and hopeful.

I remember how to use my words... "You're both... beautiful. This is... beautiful."

Cass smiles at my words, but Cynthia shudders, almost as if she'd had a small orgasm. Cassie turns her attention back to the submissive and says "worship me" as she sits on the armless chair behind her on my right... again clearly planned for this moment.

Cynthia lifts her dominant's feet one by one and massages them, kisses them, licks them. It's delicate and gentle, unlike Tara's lusty and devouring techniques. Then with a nod of encouragement, the submissive gets bolder and kisses up the insides of her legs.

Cassie looks over to me and smiles as she notes the swelling in my pants. She whispers lustily, "Sweetheart, there are tissues in the drawer of the side table next to you... feel free to experience this... however you feel comfortable..."

She called me "sweetheart". I haven't heard that word for over three months. It warms me.

This is hypnotic, I do retrieve the tissues and 'release the beast,' stroking gently. Cynthia stops her ascent and just licks the side of Cass's left thigh while peeking at me. I can see in her eyes that she's smiling. She's smiling directly at me and she shows me her tongue as she licks Cass's leg... suggesting she wouldn't be averse to using it on me, I think. Then she looks at Cass's face and they smile at each other, but I know they smile about me, pleased about our scene.

And 'our' means the three of us. I'm an equal part of this, even sitting on the couch alone. Fuck, this is hot! I should be feeling bad about this. I should be hurting to see the woman who was mine exclusively enjoying another person. This is the mother of my children. This is the woman I took home to my parents. I've nursed her through illnesses and sorrows. She's nurtured and fed me. She is mine! Or... was...? But I'm just drawn in. I'm drawn into this moment and the connection. I'm comforted by the electricity in the air. There's something just... right... about the three of us here.

I watch Cynthia as she works the rest of the way up Cassie's thighs with her tongue. I can tell she's teasing her labia. Cassie is squirming now. And as they make contact, Cassie jumps a bit and looks at me again. There's so much in her expression but so little that she gives away. What is she thinking? I'm witnessing another side of Cass: a new side. A new thing. My old marriage is over; everything we'd built, everything we were. In one flick of a tongue, that was over. My mood darkens a bit.

It's not long before Cynthia is full out working in Cass's coochie who breaks eye contact with me, fully succumbing to the pleasure.

My demons tell me this is too much. My demons tell me to leave and slam the door on my way out. My demons hope that that might poison the relationship between Cassie and Syn.

I fight my demons and keep trying, keep engaged, submitting to my original mood. This scene is beautiful, I tell myself.

As Cass gives in to Cynthia's ministrations, she moans.

But I know that moan: it's totally familiar. I've gotten that same moan from Cassie a thousand times. I don't think Cynthia is doing anything that I didn't do. There's nothing unique about Cass' reaction. That makes me feel good: that I might be as good at cunnilingus as a practicing... whatever Cynthia is. And it builds for Cassie and builds until she is close and looks at me again and smiles but she defocuses and leans her head back as the orgasm claims her and she's lost in it. It's a long, languorous one. And one I have seen before.

Why is the familiarity comforting?

They switch places and Cassie goes down on Cynthia.

Surprisingly, Cynthia is looking at me and only me. She has lust in her eyes and she keeps looking at my dick like a hungry animal. I wonder how long it's been since she's had one, but remind myself that she owns the Lost and Found, so she's probably had hundreds. The look in her eyes, though, is feral. It seems like there's something she craves that she hasn't gotten.

That moment is lost, though, as Cass's talents win and Cynthia arches her back into a shuddering orgasm. I enjoy Cynthia's orgasm face... it's refined and encompassing: more like an angel feeling the bliss of God, then morphing into something that looks more like surprise and then resolving into total relief and peace.

Cass grabs Cynthia's collar and brings her to the couch they've positioned opposite me. They sit side by side and each start to rub the other's labia as they kiss and fondle each other's breasts, licking, sucking. Since they're facing me, I can fully appreciate what their hands are doing. Cass peeks to make sure I'm still okay: she's got to see by scanning my face that I'm now into it completely. So, she returns to Cynthia, rubbing her clit more directly and they grow fevered and writhing and shaking. They keep sneaking peeks at me as my hand is bringing me to an orgasm of my own.

"Oh god!" I'm suddenly stroking feverishly as my cum escapes and I barely catch it in a tissue before I make a mess of Cynthia's furniture. "Fuuucccckk!" I actually jerk as I push the ejaculation from my body. I hear Cassie cum: like it's triggered because I came. And she's forcing Cynthia's head back into her coochie as she grinds the submissive's face brutally. Cynthia is now fingering her own clit, writhing and moaning and she cums as Cass cums again.

There's so much sex in the room, it feels cloudy.

But it transforms to feel like the calm after a summer thunderstorm. The scent of ionized air. We all know it's complete. It's perfect. We succeeded in our goal. I watched... and I accepted it. and I liked it.

And I assemble something in my mind. As the ladies come back to sit to my sides on the couch, I choose to confess. It's an effort to confess to Cassie, but I know I have to communicate better. It's a bigger effort to open to Cynthia, who I barely know, though ironically we also both know each other intimately.

This has been an act of intimacy: and I need to be open to sharing some of my own. "That..."

They both look at me...

"...that was the first time I've been able to bring myself in three months..."

It sounded kinda dumb at first blush, but the import of what I just said seems to sink in and it makes them happy. They know that I said, in one small way, I've been healed by this night. They both cuddle into me and hug us all together on the couch to celebrate the victory that was our evening. We silently enjoy the moment and the whisperings of hope. Of hope for healing shattered dreams.

We eventually doze a bit like that, then awaken, cuddle a bit more and stretch a bit. Cassie breaks the awkwardness of 'what next' by saying that she has to leave for an early appointment in the morning, which gives me the excuse to say I do too.

Cynthia stands and kisses me goodbye, still naked, pressing her whole body against me as one might if it had been us making love. I tasted Cass on her lips. And as we kiss, I hold her naked body close even though I haven't known it carnally. this is simple and sweet and natural - almost familiar - but lingering like it never needs to end. It is a promise we are making to each other. Is this really our first kiss?

Then we break and Cynthia kisses Cass more profoundly.

Cass turns to me and smiles. She holds my head and says "thank you." Then she kisses me like old times. And I taste Cynthia on her lips.

They obviously had talked this through before I got here... probably before the invitation a week ago. They probably rehearsed it. But little does she know I'd also rehearsed for this night, coincidentally, with Tara and Emerald. She thinks I made the whole leap tonight. Okay: she has secrets; I'll keep mine for a bit longer too. Let her think that.

--

Two days later, I find myself back at Cynthia's place again, but she and I are alone.

When Cass and I had discussed it one-on-one at lunch yesterday, she had said it's time Cynthia and I forged our own bond and it wasn't fair if we didn't have 'alone time' to do it. I saw it was a difficult moment for her: pushing her lovers - was I still her lover? - into each other's arms and hoping for the best. And, while not, herself, being able to be a part of it. But this was what she wanted and was trusting in. And that trust was sexy.

Cass had wished me luck of all things. Her last wry words before smiling bravely and kissing me goodbye were "try to have fun."

Y'know. It had sounded like fun. Maybe a bit nerve-wracking, but: I'd resolved to enjoy it.

And here we are now, just Cynthia and I, Thursday at dinner. She knows a lot more about me than I know about her, so we go through her story in detail. She laughs about the good years. I love the way her eyes brighten when recalling her joys. I learn that all the money in this penthouse was actually earned in Harvey's real estate business and not from the club. She cries when she talks about losing Harvey, her husband and Dom. She discusses how she tried to keep his legend alive at the Lost and Found and how difficult it has been to switch to be a Domme... the Head Domme... even when her heart is sub.

It is cute how she feels like she has to explain the concepts and words to me. I reassure her that Anne had explained a lot of this kind of stuff to me.

I don't share what I had already experienced with Tara. That's still mine to know. They have secrets still. I have secrets.

She talks about how grateful she is that Cass has fully accepted her and embraced her for what she is. Cass provides for her - and she emphasizes this word - almost everything she needs. She leaves the question open to silence. It's a request for me to ask. I'm a little scared to ask; in some weird way, I feel like I'm prying. But Cassie said we need to forge our own connection and this is a way to do it: through a little honesty and intimacy that we would share.

"...almost?"

And there it is: the flood of tears. Cassie is too kind. Too compassionate. Sometimes Cynthia needs... and she struggles for the right word "...correction." She needs the freedom and the escape. She needs to feel completely and totally subjugated. To totally lose herself.

I have to fight down the sarcastic thoughts about Cassie being able to be totally unkind to me, but this wasn't about me: this was about Cynthia. And her baring her soul to me.

She looks at me. Her eyes frantically scan my face and eyes. She is seeking some sort of affirmation. I smile at her and hold her hands.

She's choked up as she says, "I've hinted at this with Cass. And I think in her heart, she understands more than what I've told her..."

She clears her throat. "Damian. Cass says that sometimes... before... you were very aggressive... very... dominant..." She looks in my eyes - almost sadly, pleadingly - and bites her lower lip, giving me time to process her implications.