Needless

Copyright © Daniel Choquet 2019

"So Steve, what's so important you couldn't just wait til after work? I hope it isn't bad. I told Elizabeth I'd be home ..."

It was odd that he wanted to sit at a table for whatever it was, instead of just up at the bar like we usually did. And he was looking around like -- I don't know -- like he was afraid. Not like him.

"I'm sorry, man. I hate to be the one to ... but it's about her. About Elizabeth."

"What? What is it? Something happen to her?"

My heart was suddenly beating so hard it hurt. I stared at him wide-eyed.

"No, she's okay. It's just that I saw ... saw her with someone."

"Well maybe you shouldn't jump to conclusions. We're cool about friendships with the opposite sex. We trust each other."

"Like I said, I'm sorry. But it sure looked like more than friendship. I couldn't believe the way they were going at each other. In a public place, yet."

"What public place? And what do you mean going at each other?"

"Just a bar on my side of the river. Not sure you've been there."

"Yes, and ..."

"Irish place. They were at a a table in the corner. Sort of dark. Found myself staring at the table. I remember noticing how the top was done in green leather. Maybe they thought people couldn't see, and I think I was doing a good show of staring at my phone. But more like they were so into things they didn't care. Or maybe she did. She had this kind of scared look like she was afraid someone would see, but at the same time didn't care if they did. And then the touching."

"Touching? What touching?"

"God, man. Do I have to draw you a diagram? You know as well as I do what ..."

"But it doesn't make any sense!"

"Hey, like I said, I'm sorry. But you have to know this sort of thing is sort of rampant these days."

"But there's no need."

"No need? From the look on her face, need might've been the perfect word. Look, this has to be bad enough without my dragging your face through it... But why did you say that? What do you mean by no need?"

I hadn't anticipated going into any of this. I could just tell him to forget it, but Steve was my friend. Plus he wasn't going to let me drop it after what I'd said.

"I've never shared this with anyone, and feel free to be horrified or whatever. But we have an agreement, or I thought we did."

"Well no mystery there. I don't know why all the cloak and dagger. The agreement you're talking about, I mean, it's in everybody's marriage vows pretty much."

"No, that's not what I mean. I mean I've told her I want her to be free. Free in all ways, if you catch my meaning."

He looked away from me as he processed what I'd said. Looked up at the bar and then took a slow sip of his beer. Didn't exactly look back at me, but rather aimed his view more in my direction, but looking at the table rather than right in the eye.

"So like, you have a sort of ... open relationship?"

"Something like that. But I guess you'd call it one-sided. I'm not looking for anything with other women. I just don't need that."

"Hardly seems fair. She gets to play and you get nothing?"

I just shook my head.

"You're just peeling it all away. Okay, there's no fucking way you're going to understand it, but I do get something. Although maybe I don't get as much something as I thought after your tidings."

"So you like knowing when she's up to something? Is it some kind of turn-on?"

"I guess you could say that. But you hit on a key word there: knowing. I hardly get anything if I don't get to know. That's what the agreement is about. I'm supposed to know."

"Maybe she just needs some time before fulfilling her agreement. Is there a time-frame for filling you in on things?"

"I guess we should have discussed that in a little more detail. I certainly thought it would be kind of current information."

"Well what I saw was only 3 days ago. Maybe she figures she has 4 days? A week?"

I was feeling a bitterness in my gut. Going to the worst possible place with it. Maybe she wasn't planning to tell me at all. Maybe this was just plain old cheating. Worse than that: Needless cheating.

So now, what to do with this new information? I could just confront her, tell her she was seen with somebody. I hated the pity look on Steve's face. That was all I needed. Maybe I needed to have some alone time to figure out how to go forward. I thanked him, and he gave me one of those one-arm half hugs that some men feel they can do without getting uncomfortable, followed by the obligatory,

"Take care of yourself, man. Call me if you need me. And look. Maybe she's just gearing up for giving you a nice juicy report."

I shrugged, did a reasonable facsimile of a smile, and was out.

~ ~ ~

That night, seeing Elizabeth had a surreal quality. I tried to study her every expression, pretty much, I guess, like any man would do under the circumstances. Searching for some tiny sign of concealment. On one level, I was like the quintessential jealous husband, as much as I tried to hide it. God. So now we were both hiding from each other. But the bizarre part was the other effect the whole thing was having on me. Elizabeth is a beautiful woman, at least I've always seen her that way. But now she seemed even more so. Even the poisonous effects of this new distrust were somehow being overwhelmed by something else. I'd already known that my seeing her as free made her all the more attractive to me, but now it was so much stronger. Now I had the evidence: She was desired by and desired another man. And ridiculously, it just turned me on.

And a crazy idea was beginning to hatch in my head. I decided to jump in with both feet.

"I have to tell you, Liz. You just look amazing for some reason."

"What's this all about? What brings that on?"

"I don't know. You're just looking so totally alive right now. I don't know what it is."

I detected some unmistakable blush. It was time to move.

"You know how you're going to tell me if you ... if you, how do we put it ... if you exercise your freedom?"

She looked out the window to reply.

"To fuck someone else? Is that what you mean, Alan?"

"Well, yes, now that you put it so delicately."

"Yes, of course I know."

It was clear that I wasn't about to get any immediate confession.

"I was thinking it might not be so easy. And one way to approach a difficult task is to give it a sort of dry run. To practice, so that when the time comes ..."

"Practice?"

It seemed like she didn't get where I was going. Or maybe pretended not to.

"Just make it up. Don't tell me you haven't imagined doing something fun by now. Maybe even about something with someone in particular. Just imagine that you really did it, and tell me about it. All about it."

She was silent as she walked away from the window, obviously thinking about my proposal. Finally, she turned to me, but seemed to be replying to my shirt.

"So since when do people enjoy feeling jealous? Why would anybody want to be like ... triggered?"

So she really didn't get it. At least things were starting to make some sense, I mean, like why she hadn't told me, not that it made it me feel any better.

"You'll just have to trust me on this. You really don't get it, do you?"

Kind of ironic, me asking for her trust. The situation was tying itself in a knot.

"Okay, I'll play your little game. But I really can't see how you're going to like it."

I plopped myself onto the king-size bed, and clasped my hands behind my head as I lay against some of those superfluous pillows women often seem to favor. Elizabeth did not join me on the bed, apparently preferring to begin her story standing.

"He told me to meet him at a bar over on the other side of the river. It was kind of dark in there. Good choice, I guess so we wouldn't likely be noticed particularly. My heart was beating pretty hard ... situation like that. Scary and exciting. We found a table in the corner. Funny the things you remember. But it had a green leather top."

Green leather? I swallowed hard. What exactly was she giving me here?

"Scary and exciting? Not so different from how all this affects me."

She seemed restless as she went on. Like telling the story was bringing back her ... her need to do this, the force behind the stepping.

"I didn't want to waste too much time in the bar. I needed to make it clearer what I did want."

"And how did you go about that, Elizabeth? How did you show him?"

"I looked around to make sure we weren't being particularly ... observed. There was this guy across the room, but he seemed to be preoccupied with his phone. Anyway, my guy ... I leaned over to kiss him."

"What sort of a kiss was that, Elizabeth? Was it the sort of kiss that might have given this man a fairly clear idea as to what you wanted?"

"God, Alan. You're always so indirect. Isn't what you're asking ... are you wondering whether it was a fuck me sort of kiss? Yes, of course that's what you're asking. Yes, Alan. It was that kind of kiss. But just to be sure, I told him."

My mouth was getting strangely dry, but I asked.

"What did you tell him?"

"To take me somewhere and fuck me. I put my hand on his knee and moved it up. Already hard and I wanted it."

A disclosure, partially, at least. All in the guise of an imagined scene. And the story, or whatever it was, was turning her on. As it was me.

"Well, I certainly hope he complied ... Elizabeth. You know your pleasure is very important to me."

She finally looked me in the eye. Squinted like she was having trouble reading me.

"It almost sounds like you mean that."

"I do mean that. So tell me. Did you get what you needed?"

"Yes, Alan. But I can't believe you could handle hearing any more of it."

"I guess hearing about it isn't what I really want."

"And what you really want is ..."

"Why, to see you getting your needs met."

I hadn't thought she could be shocked in the state she was in, but what I saw then was incredulity.

"You mean ... like see see?"

"Exactly."

And as she headed down the stairs, she said,

"I won't be gone too long."

Disappointing, really. The game, or whatever it was, it was getting to be so much fun. I'd obviously gone too far. Too honest too soon. Ironic really, since it had now become obvious that she too had worried about how much honesty I could handle.

~ ~ ~

I hadn't looked at the clock when she left, but it didn't feel like more than a couple of hours when I heard the car pulling back into the driveway. Maybe time for a quick visit with him, but I really doubted that was it. What seemed more likely was that she really needed to digest things, maybe to accept what I'd been trying to tell her. She got into bed silently and turned her back to me but close.

"I really don't want to hurt you, Alan. Can you believe that?"

"Then stop trying to protect me."

She was silent. Something made me want to try something.

"Why don't you ask him for a date?"

"Ask who?"

"Your guy, you know. The one in your story. I trust you had a real person in mind, at least."

Three minutes, and then,

"Yes, name is Dwayne. And yes, I'd love to go on a date with him. And then maybe ..."

"That's right, Elizabeth. You could spend the night. And then come home and tell me."

"Tell you what?"

"As much as you cared to."

"Although you'd really prefer to ... see?"

"We can't always have what we want, Elizabeth."

"But you're saying you'd want that."

"Yes, that's true."

I put my arm around her and imagined. I probably wouldn't get to see, but I could imagine. I'd once been told that introverts like me had a rich fantasy life. I think it's true. And given the position we were in, she really couldn't help feeling the effect.

~ ~ ~

It was strange how it happened. Like I'd made a reasonable suggestion, not outlandish at all, and she'd simply decided to accept it. So here we were. Date night. It was crazy. She couldn't seem to conceal her excitement. The dress was orange with flecks of gold, and oh so short.

"Zip me up?"

I did.

"How do I look?"

"Stunning."

"I hope Dwayne likes it."

I figured he probably would. She added,

"I may need to text you."

I wasn't sure what for, but held up my phone as a way to reassure her I'd be ready.

And just like that, she was gone. I wondered if it was better her way, after all, without my knowing. Here I was imagining again, but not as much fun with her not being next to me. Worried about this Dwayne. Would he be good to her? Did I want him to be? I wondered whether I'd be able to sleep. Then a text. Elizabeth.

-- you ok

-- sure where r u

-- his bathroom

-- not going to do anything naughty r u

-- think i am

-- u bad girl

-- yes very bad girl

-- still love me?

-- more than ever

-- but going to let him touch

-- just touch?

-- not just touch

-- naughty

-- yes very naughty

-- going to do naughty

Nothing else. Maybe she was waiting for me. But I didn't answer, just suspended. And then,

-- sweet dream baby

Again I didn't answer. And neither did she. But she was figuring it out. Figuring me out.

Lying there, wanting to come, but afraid to. After all, I figured it was the arousal that was keeping the jealousy at bay.

~ ~ ~

First thing I noticed was shaking. Someone shaking me. Elizabeth of course. What time was it? It was still dark. Still getting my bearings, all I could say was,

"You're back."

"We're back."

"What ...?"

Then I saw him, just inside the door.

"Who ...?"

"It's Dwayne, Alan. I brought him back so you could ..."

"Could what?"

"You said you wanted to see. I brought him back so you could see."

I straightened up awkwardly, and tried to focus on the tallish, rather fit-looking man by the door. The eerie, almost gentle smile. He walked slowly toward me, reached out his hand, and smiled.

"Dwayne."

I took his hand. Not sure when I'd ever been in such an odd situation. But took his hand.

"Alan."

"Yeah, awkward, I get that. But it needn't be. I understand. Been in your same role myself."

"Role?"

"The one who wants to see. Just enjoy, man. Just enjoy."

Elizabeth spoke up.

"We just want you to get your wish, Alan. Dwayne wants to do some things with me. Things I think you will want to see. Let me lie down close to you."

She made herself comfortable on her back while I was still half-sitting. Right next to her. Dwayne stood on the other side of the bed.

"The hem, Alan."

It was like I'd been hypnotized and was now obeying predetermined commands. Somehow, I knew what she wanted, took hold of the hem of her dress, and lifted it. The yellow thong matched the dress rather nicely.

"He likes to touch me there ... don't you, Dwayne? Touch me so my husband can see."

As he kneaded gently, she arched her back a little and let out just the slightest gasp. She looked at me and reached out for me to come close. She wanted to kiss me. While the touching continued. I felt her tongue. Breaking the kiss she whispered,

"The thong."

And she lifted her ass up off the bed while her men collaborated. We both knew what was required.

She looked at me with a sort of crazed smile.

"See? I trimmed it a little. For Dwayne. But not bald. He doesn't like it bald. Says it's nastier this way. Especially so with you seeing him stare at it. But he likes to be able to see the groove. You like that, don't you, Dwayne?"

I was surprised to hear him speak for himself then.

"I like to lick it."

"And I love it when he licks me. But what I'll love even more is having you see. Do it, Dwayne. Lick me so my husband can see."

Dwayne removed his shoes and got up onto the bed. Got on his knees and leaned down so he could do the thing he'd said he liked to do.

Elizabeth pulled the dress up over her head and unhooked the bra. Yellow, of course. And pulled me to her. It was like a nonverbal demand that I suck her nipple while Dwayne played his part, between her beautiful thighs, licking the not-quite-bald pussy, while reaching up to caress and squeeze while I sucked.

She was strangely silent when she came. It was all in the sweet trembling, pressing hard against him at the end.

It had been a beautiful sight, a privilege to behold, but now it was time. So I said to him,

"Show us, Dwayne. Show us what you have for her."

He got off the bed to shed the jeans and underwear, first taking a small square packet from his jeans pocket and laying it on the bed. And then, yes. Proud and ready as was the man himself. In response, it seemed as if Elizabeth's thighs parted on their own. Her sex engorged and visibly moist, she too was ready. She looked at me. A combination of lust, fear, pride, possibly hope that what was about to happen wouldn't turn out to be too much for me after all. I did my best to allay her fears. I wanted this. And I wanted to see it.

As he leaned over her, she reached out to me, began stroking me gently. Now it seemed like her doubt was gone and she was going to play on my crazy desire.

"Look, Alan. He's about to push it into me. Do you want him to do that? Do you want him to fuck me now?"

"Isn't that why you brought him here?"

I was surprised to hear Dwayne reply to this.

"I told you, Alan. I understand about this. So listen. I'm going to fuck your wife now..."

He took more time than was really necessary rolling on the condom. For effect, I suppose. And then he continued,

"... And you're going to watch. Watch me put this dick into your wife's lovely little pussy. Watch, Alan."

And then he wasted no time. In seconds he laid it against her, rubbed it up and down the moist lips a couple of times, and then held his breath as it moved in. All the way. Then it began, slowly at first. She looked at me, still stroking me, and what she said was ridiculously obvious.

"Look, Alan. He's fucking me now. Can you see it?"

Is that what could be called a rhetorical question? I suppose so, since she really didn't seem to be waiting for an answer. She leaned over to kiss me again. Her body was now moving rhythmically, in answer to his, causing her mouth to move as we kissed. And at the same time, the motion of her fist moving up and down on me was equally synchronized with her lover's thrusts.

~ ~ ~

Sure, I'd been annoyed that Elizabeth hadn't just been open about the whole thing in the first place, that I'd found out the way I did. But the question now was whether there was any point in revisiting all that, considering where the whole thing was now. But it was still digging at me and I had to say something.

"Elizabeth?"

Her response was just in the eyebrows.

"Why didn't you just tell me?"

"But I did."

"But that was all pretending, wasn't it?"

"Does it really matter? I had to be sure. I couldn't risk having you discover that you didn't really like seeing your fantasy come to life after all. I couldn't risk losing you. But I feel kind of bad having to enlist Steve. After all, he is your friend."

"What? But wait? Had you really done anything, before ... before your pretend recounting? Or, I mean, was it really pretend? Had it really happened already or was it ..."

"Quiet, Alan. Just stop. Think about it. Wouldn't it maybe be better to keep an edge on it?"

"Edge, what do you mean?"

"A little mystery isn't a bad thing. You know that, don't you?"

I had to think about it. She had a point.

"Listen, Alan. For now, just enjoy imagining it the way you want. And in five years, I'll tell you. If by then you still really care."

"Okay, cool. And maybe by then I'll have some mysteries of my own."