Naked: How to Dress the Truth Ch. 02

Alison searches for closure

It had taken Alison a couple of days to recover from the emotional confrontation with the photos Greg had taken before she could again discuss the threesome experience with him. Some of the truth of her dilemma emerged when he - cautiously - suggested that a second try might clear things up in her mind. The first time of anything can be distorted by nervousness, he said. You have to make your mistakes the first time to get it right the next time.

Alison had her doubts. "You know Greg, the more I think about it the less my fantasy had to do with a threesome. It had to do with two of you, and not a physical experience with interchangeable bodies."

"But," Gregory raised his brows for emphasis. "But you did enjoy it, once you found a balance."

"OK, I'll grant you that," she admitted. "The physical part, it was more intense than I expected. But I needed to keep contact with you to keep my emotions under control. It doesn't feel like something I want to repeat."

"Ah-ha, I get it. What you're really saying is that for you to get the most out of a threesome I can't be involved."

"That's not true!" and she gave him a playful slap across the cheek. "That would be absurd, going from a fantasy with two of you to a reality where you weren't there at all."

Alison concluded that the threesome idea wasn't worth pursuing. In the following days she drifted through her daily life, at work, at the gym, meeting other friends, her part-time studies, a few evenings and nights each week at Greg's apartment. She found relief and a sense of calm in his company, going to a movie or restaurant together, having their long philosophical discussions about anything and everything, or simply sharing a bed at night and waking the next morning to have breakfast together and coordinate their plans for the next several days.

And yet, something lingered. Her thoughts shifted from the general idea of a threesome to a more specific 'what if'? What if she hadn't panicked? What if she had let whatever it was that had been developing continue to its natural conclusion? During evenings on her own in her apartment, she stretched out on her couch and stared at a TV screen, thinking about what it was that she had withdrawn from. She believed she had given the whole story to Greg, especially the important part about being overwhelmed by the intense arousal she felt. A caged physical desire. If she had only stayed in the situation, what would have happened? She tried to imagine it, sometimes while absently rubbing herself through her panties, not enough to get aroused, but enough to placate the sense of unease.

One night while lying in bed she did go further. She held that sense of urgency in her thoughts, that hunger in his eyes, imagined herself under him, taking him in. She stayed close to the image, and rubbed and fingered herself to an orgasm. Then she lay back on her bed, regaining her breath, and wondered what she was pursuing.

What Greg had said about seeing faces in clouds, that was true. She did start making connections that weren't there, especially the connections related to emotions reserved for Greg that had infiltrated her experience. Yet one fact remained. However true it was that she had been seeing faces in a cloud, the cloud was still there. The pieces of what had really happened were still there. She didn't know what they were. It bothered and fascinated her, and left her with a hollowness inside, that there was something unresolved, unfinished.

She felt paralyzed by the uncertainty. She would sit on her couch in the evening, her arms hugging her legs to her chest, a cheek resting against her knees while staring without attention at the TV. Her stomach would knot, how much from anxiety and how much from a vague longing, she couldn't say. A bit of everything, she concluded with a discouraged shake of her head. The secret that her fearful withdrawal had hidden from her would not come out. She only knew that she ached to discover what it was.

And then, one afternoon, reality intervened to resolve her indecisiveness. Her mobile phone chimed an incoming call.

"Yes?"

"Hello. Is this Alison?"

"Yes."

"Hi. This is Tom."

"Who?"

"Tom." Pause. "You know .. we .. um .. had a get together a while ago?"

"Oh, Tom. I'm sorry. Of course. I .. I just don't know anyone named Tom .. I mean, I couldn't immediately place the name."

"That's OK. So how are you?"

"Fine, life moving along. How are you?"

"Good .. good. I thought I'd give you a call and ask .. I was wondering if you'd want to meet for a chat sometime, have a coffee somewhere."

"You want to meet? Is there anything on your mind?"

"No. I mean, no issues. I've just been thinking about the evening. We didn't have a chance to talk about it. I was wondering what you thought about it."

"I .. uh .. I don't know."

"Look, if you're feeling embarrassed about it, I understand. It wasn't an evening playing Monopoly. If it's something you want to forget about..."

"No, not monopoly," she giggled nervously. "But, no, it's not something I want to forget about. It feels awkward, that's all. I've already spent enough time talking it over with my .. with Greg. I guess it's only fair that you want to talk about it too. It might do me some good."

"Great. How about some time next week?"

He mentioned a coffee shop she recognized, near the university campus. But, next week? She had to get this done. The waiting would drive her crazy. "The place is OK. But can we meet sooner, in the next couple of days? I'm going to be pretty busy next week."

"Sure, that's good. Tomorrow? Wednesday? 3 o'clock?"

"I can manage Thursday, same time."

"Great. Thanks. See you then."

"OK. Bye." Alison put down the phone. Does jumping out of an airplane without a parachute feel like this? Weightless, she thought, a euphoric weightlessness. She went into the bathroom and stared into the mirror. She clasped her hands to her flushed cheeks and stared at herself. What have you just done, Alison? She bent over and splashed cold water on her face. Call it off. But it's at a coffee shop, there's nothing to call off. You can go and have a chat. That's why he wants to meet at midday in a coffee shop. It's safe. It's an escape route.

Alison sat on the edge of her bed, then collapsed onto her back. But what does he want? There is something more important than that, Alison, she challenged herself. Be honest with yourself, what do you want? She shook her head in reply to her own interrogating voice, and crossed her arms over her eyes. I want to understand what happened. I want to get back to that moment and repeat it, not be afraid, and finish it in whatever way it's supposed to finish. The admission ignited the pressure that had been building inside her for days. She rolled over onto her stomach and cried.

* * * * *

Alison paused at the curb, checked for traffic, then crossed the street and headed towards her rendezvous. She had decided to remain her casual self, but instead of jeans and t-shirt that would have been her more usual choice of casual, she wore a calf-length skirt and a loose short-sleeved blouse. She was being practical, she admitted to herself, even though her choice of what to wear had caused her some anxiety. She also carried a single strap shoulder bag. She had debated whether it might have been too large to bring, but, thought it better to admit her own motivation to herself, and be prepared. Anticipate eventualities, Greg was always telling her. Reality is a labyrinth as it is. Why make it worse by cluttering your mind with excuses, evasions, and proper-sounding rationalizations? Now, crossing the street, Alison thought that it was easier said than done. She wondered what might be hidden inside the labyrinth she was now weaving into. Stay focused, she told herself, impatient with her too-easy tendency towards tears. As long as she could hold her nerves together, and keep her emotions under some semblance of control, she should manage.

The sunny weather meant that most of the clientele were sitting outside at the terrace tables. She could find a quiet corner inside, and use the time until Tom arrived to calm down. Alison took a deep breath and entered the coffee shop, a half hour early. A waitress smiled a greeting and Alison immediately ordered a tea, turned to find a table and saw Tom waving to her. There goes my plan to calm down, she thought ruefully, and took another deep breath.

She felt awkward, embarrassed, and suddenly shy as she walked over to the table, greeted Tom with a nervous "Hi" and a quick bob of her head, then sat opposite him and fussed with her shoulder bag.

"Can I get you something?" Tom asked.

"No, I'm fine. I ordered tea when I came in."

"Nice that you arrived early. I had time to spare and thought I'd come here to wait."

"Yes, me too," Alison replied. The waitress came over with the tea, which gave Alison another way to distract herself for a couple of minutes. "Tom, can I just say something?" He gave a nod of encouragement. "I know why we're here," she continued. "I mean, what we're here to have a chat about. I'm just feeling nervous about it. Considering .. what we did .. I feel exposed." She folded her arms around her waist, defensively.

"If it makes you feel any better, I'm in the same position you are."

"Yes, but ..." she paused when Tom raised his eyebrows questioningly. But .. what? She thought. "OK, fair enough." She talked to her hands. "I just have to say it. I know what we came here to talk about, I agreed to it, and I don't want to mess it up fidgeting nervously with evasive small talk. I'll feel better if we just start in. You don't need to do anything to put me at ease."

"I guess you're right." He paused, and Alison nodded for him to continue. " I was wondering about something you said on the phone. We could start there." Alison nodded again. "You said that talking about it might do you some good. What sort of good do you mean?"

"A lot was going on. It was more .. complicated .. than I had expected. I've been trying to work through it with Greg, talking about my fantasy and how reality measured up to it." Tom laughed out loud. Alison cringed in embarrassment. "Oh my God, I'm sorry I'm sorry. That's not what I meant."

Tom shook his head, grinning. "Priceless .. please, you were saying?"

Alison felt as though everyone in the coffee shop was looking at her, which of course they were not, but it was only because she was already feeling self-conscious. She studied her hands, holding onto her cup of tea. "The fantasy I had was one thing. How it all happened was something else. I've been trying to figure out what the one has to do with the other. Talking with you might do me some good because your .. perspective, the way you saw things .. might make some of it less mixed up."

"Do you know what's confusing you?"

"Wait, I have a question for you first. What's your reason for wanting to talk about this with me?"

Tom didn't reply immediately, sat thinking. Alison sipped on her tea. "I've been feeling .. a lack of closure, something not finished." he said. Alison concentrated on the cup in her hands, tried to control her erratic breathing. "There isn't anything that I want to figure out or understand," Tom continued. "I guess our reasons are different in that respect. Still, we were both there and.."

"You want to compare notes?"

"Not to be too clinical about it," he protested, smiling. "But, yes, in a way. I'm curious about how you experienced things, to see how our experiences fit together, and get some closure in that way. So, back to my next question. Do you know what you want to work out?"

Another couple entered the coffee shop and sat at a table next to them. Alison leaned forward, her forearms on the table. "It was complicated for me." She searched for a way of saying what she wanted to say, something that Tom would understand but a casual eavesdropper at the next table would not .. not that they'd be listening, or .. but she didn't know what she wanted to say to Tom. What she wanted to know was what he was thinking. "I'm not sure if this will make sense to you, but it's as though my fantasy was really about Greg."

Tom shook his head. "You're right, that doesn't make sense to me."

"That part, I think I understand it. I was feeling very emotional and it felt out of place and anyway it doesn't involve you, so I can set that part aside. But when I do that, what it means is that the thr .. what we did," she glanced cautiously at other people sitting nearby, straightened her shoulders, "when I set aside the emotional part with Greg that makes .. I feel confused about the rest."

"It looked as though you enjoyed it."

Alison shook her head. "Greg says the same thing. It's true, I suppose, but more like an overall summary. I don't know how I came across at the time. This confusion came out later." Alison made brief eye contact with the woman at the next table, and sighed. "Tom, I'm feeling very uncomfortable here. Could we just take a walk outside?"

"Sure. I'll cover the bill." Alison waited for him outside, unsure of where the conversation was leading. Tom seemed evasive but no more than she was. Anyway, I'm not being evasive, just cautious, she insisted to herself. We both are.

Tom joined her and they headed down the street together. "It's as you say," she continued. "If it was only me and the physical experience, then I'd say I enjoyed the experience and that my curiosity about my fantasy was satisfied. Let me ask you this. What was in it for you?"

"Pardon?" Tom give her another quizzical look.

"It was all about me and my fantasy. It was the two of you with me on the receiving end," she giggled nervously. "If you see what I mean."

"OK, I get what you're saying. I don't know how many different ways there are in doing what we .. having a threesome. If all the participants were bisexual then that would .. create more possibilities."

"That's what I mean. I understand how I was benefiting from it, but I don't see what you .. for example .. would get out of it." Tom laughed again. "No, I'm serious. Greg was, partly, doing me a favour, that was his motivation. OK, it got complicated in a different direction but that's not the point. If I just consider the physical part, I understand what's in it for me, but not for either of you."

"Maybe for Greg, but not yet for me?"

"No," she replied with some hesitation. Does he get it?

Tom smiled, pensive. "I think you're forgetting something here, Alison. I don't know how much you want me to spell it all out in detail, but the bottom line is that if you just consider what I got out of it, then you were doing your share of giving. What I did and what we did. I wasn't exactly short changed, was I?" he smiled.

Weren't you? That's what I want to know, she thought. "Maybe you weren't. But I'm still wondering, if it just came down to what you get out of it, then wouldn't the two guys be getting in each other's way, needing to time-share the woman? It's fine for the woman in the situation, she's getting it all from both partners. You weren't."

"Guys might be simple-minded, but we can also show some generosity on rare occasions."

Alison persisted. "You weren't both doing this just for me, what was in it for you?"

"Aside from the actual .. uh .. sexual activity?"

"We had intercourse, and I gave you oral sex," Alison corrected, and her head spun. "I'm feeling awkward talking about this in public, walking down a street. But I'm not .. don't worry, it's not a taboo topic for me. Sometimes I need to be blunt. You can say the words, it helps calm me down."

"Right, then. Aside from .. having intercourse," he paused, and Alison glanced at him, pressed her lips together. "No, not aside from that, in addition to that. As far as us guys getting in each other's way, that depends on what else you want. There are a lot of things a guy can get off on. I wouldn't call it voyeurism, but being there to watch can add something, so long as you can participate. And then there's the chance to have sex with someone you'd ordinarily not have sex with."

Alison smiled cautiously. "That one sounds illicit. You haven't been stalking me, have you?"

"Of course not. I mean, the choice was there, and I found .. find .. you sexually attractive. Some of us stay away from women already in relationships, even when we find them sexually attractive. I can assure you that my participation was not purely altruistic."

"Ah, well, that's a relief," Alison replied with a light self-mocking tone. "And the other part? Not normally getting a chance?"

"Now we get into more fantasy. As you said, some illicit role play."

"But in that case, what would be the point in a threesome? The secretiveness - or whatever the point is - wouldn't be there."

"I'm not so sure. I can see how it might work for someone, having access to private property, forbidden fruit. That sort of thing. With fantasies it's all about the idea."

"Now you're talking maybe for someone, not about what it was for you. Is that what it was for you? "

"That you are already in a relationship? No, that was irrelevant." Alison frowned sceptically. "Fine, I suppose at the start that had something to do with it," he conceded. "It's one of those things that fires your imagination, but it wasn't the main thing."

"That's OK," Alison smiled. "I don't mind being forbidden fruit .. part of the time. But you just said not getting in each other's way depends on what a person wants."

Tom again hesitated. Alison sensed that he was still being cautious, evasive in some vague way. They had been walking side by side, exchanging glances while talking while still keeping an eye on pedestrian traffic. Now, she felt that the conversation had gotten to the point where her next question could no longer be ambiguous.

An awkward silence settled between them, balanced at the point where she was most uncertain. She knew what she wanted to ask: not what he wanted, but whether he got what he wanted. She looked cautiously sideways at Tom, "You said you lacked closure," and she held his glance. She held his eyes, trying to sense his reaction .. and strode full frontal into someone coming in the opposite direction.

A flurry of embarrassed apologies, picked up her shoulder bag that had fallen to the pavement, and they continued walking down the street. "You alright?" Tom asked.

"No bumps or bruises. Lucky for me the guy was carrying some extra weight. It was like bouncing off a big air bag." She had her arms around herself and gave herself a rub. "Maybe we should go find a place to sit if we want to safely finish this conversation."

They continued walking in silence for a minute. Tom finally spoke. "My apartment is only about 5 minutes' from here. We could go there if that's OK with you."

Alison stared straight ahead. "Sure, that's fine."

"At least you won't have to worry about eavesdroppers or .."

"Tom," she interrupted him and touched his arm. "I agreed." She held his eyes.

Neither of them talked during the few minutes it took to get to his apartment. Alison's immediate thought was, it's settled, and was surprised by a warm tranquility that accompanied that thought. And almost as rapidly it was replaced by uncertainty. She was guessing. She had no idea what exactly it was that they were agreeing to.

But then, if she knew the answer to that then none of this would have started in the first place.

* * * * *

Alison entered a large studio apartment, at top floor conversion, at least twice the size of her own two room apartment. Tom had arranged his furniture in such a way as to divide the large space into four separate function areas. A kitchenette-dining area faced the vestibule entrance. To the right was a living room and entertainment area. Along the wall to her right was a desk/work area. A row of open shelves that held books and assorted objects served to close off the sleeping area, closest to the windows. The bed was a mattress on the floor within a wooden frame. The bed itself was unmade, the way Tom must have left it this morning. The apartment, while not messy, had a cluttered, lived in look to it. Somehow, that reassured her.