The Grass Isn't Always Greener

She dropped to her knees, and reached for his belt, but he stopped her, gripping her hands, gently but firmly.

"I can't, Hope. I can't be with you, not like this, not with this hanging over me. I need to think about this, I need some time. This feels like an ambush. I... I... I..." he stuttered, "I need to leave."

He pushed her hands away, then stood and grabbed his keys and phone before heading towards the door. She could barely breathe, shocked as her love sped away from her. But then he stopped at the door with his back to her as he opened it providing her with the most fleeting moment of faith that it would be ok. Michel turned slightly and gazed upon Hope, still on the ground watching this terror unfold.

"I'm not leaving for good, I just need time to think. You just hit me with all of this, ambushed me, and I can't respond now. I have to consider a lot of things, I need to work out all this, about you, me, us. I'll be back tomorrow, hopefully."

"I love you Hope," he whispered heavily with emotion, and then he was gone, the door closing before she regained her sensibilities.

"I love you too, Michel," she breathed, as she watched the man she loved disappear.

Finally, after fighting back the tears, she grabbed her phone and made a call to her friend, Trisha.

"I need you, Trisha, I need the group. I've messed everything up," her voice was a mess of pain and confusion and desperate, pitiful need. "Michel's gone."

So desperate did she sound, so near to hysterics that Trisha overcame her immediate hesitancy and agreed. It was a work night which complicated things and originally gave her pause, but Hope was hurting, and clearly in need of them all. If Michel had left, if Hope had done something so egregious that the man who loved her so completely that they all jokingly claimed it to be sickening, had walked away, then there was no recourse but to go to her aid. So, in light of that, Trisha started making more calls. She called them all and pleaded Hope's case to Eliza, Petra, Lila and Kimberly, and yes, they would all gather together for their friend.

It took close to an hour for them all to gather, but for their friend in need, they came. All were shocked at Hope's tormented and pitiful appearance.

They embraced, they wept for her, even without knowing the tale of woe. She was their friend and she had been there for all of them at times in their lives, now they were here for her. Finally, Eliza was the one to break the awkwardness, to raise the question that they all needed an answer to.

The fear was that Hope had cheated on Michel. What else could drive him away? His devotion to her was that of sappy romance novels and Hollywood fantasy, and the envy of all of them.

Hope merely showed them the article, as she had done to Michel earlier in the evening. "I sent this, and tonight, I finally broached it with him."

"You didn't?" asked Petra, the youngest of the group at only nineteen. "You wouldn't do that to him, surely?"

Hope merely nodded, eliciting a gasp from the rest. At least she hadn't cheated, but by the words of the article, by what they gathered from reading her appearance, the strain in her voice and the wringing of her hands, it was clear that she was seeking approval to do just that.

"That man loves you, Hope. He adores you." Trisha was agitated. She dreamed of finding a man like Michel, but it was a never-ending series of disappointments for her. One loser after another had simply moved through her dating life, and whilst she had never been jealous of her friend's relationship, she certainly coveted what Hope had, spending many a night pining for even a sliver of the happiness that Hope enjoyed.

"So, just call it off," said Eliza. "Not the wedding," she hastily added when everyone looked at her with alarm. "I mean, just say that you've changed your mind. Don't do it."

"But I want to, I need to," Hope reprised her earlier arguments. "I won't cheat on him, and I can't explain it in a way that sounds logical, even to me. But he's the only man I've ever been with. I need to have something else, I need to explore and understand. Oh... I've messed it all up." She looked forlorn, "He wouldn't even make love to me when I begged him. He's never turned me down before, but tonight, I tried to get him to be with me. I was even about to suck his dick right there at the dinner table. But the thought of being with me repulsed him, he pushed me away and just left."

"Can you blame him?" Petra responded, as the group hugged once more, and wept. "He probably thought you were trying to bribe him with sex."

"But..." Hope tried to speak, then fell silent. That was exactly what she had done, Michel had seen straight through it, straight through her.

"Dicks are nice," said Eliza, once the tears died down again. The girls all giggled and nodded in affirmation. "But let me tell you sister, if I had to choose between the dick of a stranger, or one of a man who loved me, I'd take the love dick every time. Sex without love is over and then gone. But love continues on, even after the dick is limp and soft. Don't get lust and love confused. Think with your head and heart, not your pussy. Anyway, I thought you used to say that Michel is a great lover."

"He is, I think. He certainly rings my bell. But I have nobody else to compare to, no other experience. I just want to have that, even once, before we marry, before I spend the rest of my life with one man."

Kimberly then said what many were thinking, her words were cutting and rang true. "If you're not careful with this, someone else will pick him up. That man is too nice, and too good looking, to simply let you play the field and cuck him before the wedding. He'll get a bed warmer, and then they'll never want to leave, and he might not want them to."

The quiet settled once more over them all.

"I wouldn't be making him a cuckold," challenged Hope. "I want this for both of us, it's only fair. I'd never do something only for me, and I could never humiliate him, disrespect him like that. I made it clear that if I was doing it, it'd be for him as well."

"But Hope," Kimberly continued, "that's how it will play out, in his head as well as in reality. He'd think that you were making him a cuckold, he'd know it, everyone would know it and they would be right." Most of the girls nodded their heads, agreeing with the slightly chubby brunette.

Finally Lila, who had mostly been quiet, soaking up all the information and the feelings of Hope and the others, spoke. She measured her words carefully, wary of them being misconstrued. "You were honest with him, Hope, and he knows you love him. And even a blind man can see he loves you. You just have to stay strong and true to what you need if you want him to agree."

The others were shocked that Lila would condone Hope's choices, and were about to admonish her, but she continued unfazed.

"It's not something that I would do, especially to a guy like Michel. That said if you feel so strongly about it, you owe it to yourself to see it through. Stay committed to the path. It will be difficult, but I'll help you and Michel. I love you both. We all do." The rest nodded in agreement. "If you need to do this, if you have to do this, and if we can't advise you against it, then we need to help you make it real, but in such a way that it won't hurt either of you. It needs to be done discreetly and with respect."

"But, what if they do this, and someone decides that they like playing around and won't stop?" Trisha countered. She took a long drink as she pondered her next words, "Hope's risking it all, it's too much. What if she likes extra dicks, or he likes extra pussy?" She turned to Hope, "you say you want six months, but what if one of you wants it longer or likes someone else better?"

"That wouldn't happen. I love Michel and he loves me." Hope spoke with assurance and confidence, but in her heart she wasn't so sure. "Neither of us would do that to the other."

"He probably didn't think you'd do this either." Petra countered.

A quietness once more fell over the group, as they sat for a long time, contemplating what Hope intended, and how to either talk her out of it, or assist her in fulfilling her desire.

Then, as the night settled in, the girls drank, reminisced, planned and strategized. They tried to be as objective as possible, throwing up pros and cons of Hope's request. They embraced and cried over and over. The four friends all feared for Hope and her relationship, even as they worked with her to either subvert it or to rescind her demands. However as the night continued, the more Hope's resolve strengthened and the more the group's thoughts turned towards her opening up the relationship, and bringing other men to her bed.

[ -- ]

Michel awoke the next day with a pounding headache. He was weary of body and mind, and the ache of his heart felt like a dagger had been plunged deep within. He called in to work sick as he continued to consider his choices.

He had ignored the text messages and phone calls that rang long into the night, from Hope, and from her friends. He needed to think and plan himself, and thus he could not afford the distractions the phone posed. It was eventually turned off, as he told himself that he could always read the messages and listen to the voicemails the next day. He just felt no need to read them that night, not when clarity of thought was required.

However, the messages and calls did seem to reinforce in his mind that she had the support of her cadre of besties, after all they were as thick as thieves. He felt wounded that Hope would bring them into this, use them to try and wear down his willpower, and conspire with her to destroy his relationship. His once fond feelings for them soon began to sour as it was obvious they were in on the plan to hijack his wedding and send Hope out into the dating world and other men's embrace, all the while stringing him along

"So, is the plan still the plan?" Jason had asked him when Michel woke from crashing on his couch.

Jason was not necessarily Michel's best friend, though he was undoubtedly close and had known him for the last five years. No, Jason had offered something else that Michel needed. Real world experience.

Jason had been involved in an open relationship, or an ethically non-monogamous (ENM) relationship as was the new buzz term. His relationship had ended in acrimony though, and with anger, heartache and accusations on both sides. Jason's testimony, though biassed, was important to Michel to understand the dangers that lay down that path. Michel needed to hear, needed to understand. At the least, he had needed somewhere to stay and someone to talk to, to vent with. Jason fit the bill perfectly.

"Yeah, I think it is." It had taken him a while to respond as he mulled over the decision that he had reached the night before. Jason had been surprisingly more forthright than he had expected, and took equal blame for his and Stacie's failed relationship. He had given all and more to Michel than he could ever have expected, and still he did not crucify Hope on the cross of his own failings or her sexual cravings.

"It's going to be hard, very hard. Both of you are going to hurt. A lot. Are you sure? You've only had a single night to get your head around this, to think about it."

Michel nodded as he chewed absently on a piece of toast. It had been overcooked, nearly burnt, and tasted horrible and dry. But it filled the hole in his stomach, leaving only the hole in his heart. A hole that would only grow by the end of the day.

"It was enough time. If I thought about it longer, I'd only delay the inevitable, it'd be the same outcome."

He scanned the various text messages as he ate. The girls were pleading with him not to give up on Hope, to listen to her, to work with her, to be with her. They were beseeching him to come back, to not throw her away but to love her, because they were convinced that she still loved him, perhaps even more than she had previously. They were sad for him and for Hope, and apologised for the pain he was going through. But the one underlying thread that repeated more and more as he read the increasingly desperate texts all said the same thing: 'she needs this'. Michel grunted grimly, and sent a text to Hope.

Will be back in an hour.

He didn't know if she was going to be home or going into work. Perhaps she was as broken by the turn of events as he was, even though it was she who had set the wheels in motion. Michel turned his phone off once more, and tucked it into his pocket. He didn't want to hear from her or her friends, at least not until he arrived back at his apartment.

Jason clapped him on the back. "Best of luck, and if it doesn't pan out, my couch is always available.." His words were said simply, and with strength for his friend. "If you're certain now that this is what you're going to do, don't back down."

Michel nodded his head in the affirmative and reached out his hand to his friend, but Jason would have none of it. Instead of shaking his hand, he pulled Michel into a bear hug, embracing him with a warmth and affection that Michel had not anticipated. "I'll be here for you if you need," he repeated, "there's always room for a friend."

"Thanks Jason, for everything", Michel held the embrace tight, with tears in his eyes and a gaping wound in his soul.

His trip back home was made in silence as he continued to work through the jumble of emotions and thoughts swirling around inside him. Upon coming within sight of his home, he suddenly felt his bowels clench and his stomach churn, and the toast felt like it was going to repeat. He had to take a few deep, slow breaths to try and calm himself down. But as he did, his heart broke again. This would be the single most difficult moment of his life, but his mind was made up. His actions, his decision, was set in stone, and he would not falter.

As the key turned in the lock, he heard whispered words from within, and he suddenly realised that not only was Hope still here, but her friends, or at least some of them, were too. He almost fled. He did not want this discussion to be had with any of them present. It was too personal, too important, too sad, and ultimately he considered the fact that she wanted to bed other men, far too humiliating. Nevertheless, he cursed himself for his weakness, whether they were there or not, this was his home, at least for the time being. He had the right of entrance, and didn't deserve to be cowed into subservience and cowardice. The door unlocked, and the handle turned. He strode in with dignity, his back straight, shoulders square, and head held up. They wouldn't see his pain.

He had felt trapped until his discussion with Jason, Hope had made him feel horribly cornered and out manoeuvred. Now, he had a semblance of control.

Hope, Petra and Lila were waiting within. Their hushed conversation died as he entered. The other girls had left for work or uni early in the morning, leaving the three remaining to continue to try and plan for Michel's eventual return. They were moved when they saw him. He had strength and poise, walking with a power and confidence, but it was clear that his face was nothing but a mask, and he was hurting.

"Michel," Hope appealed, a quiet desperation in her single word greeting. She tried to move towards him, but he held his hand up, halting her approach.

"No Hope, no. We need to discuss this together, in private." He turned to face her friends, "Lila, Petra, I'm sorry for this, but could you please leave. I won't have this discussion with anyone else here."

Hope grabbed at her friends' arms as Michel spoke, a clutch of support and thanks. The three exchanged looks, and nodded. "We were just leaving anyway, Michel." Petra said, as she stood and moved towards the door. "She loves you," she whispered to him, almost imperceptibly, as she passed him by, but he made no indication that he had heard, no acknowledgment that she had spoken.

The door swung shut behind the retreating girls with a thud, leaving Hope and Michel alone. The gap between them was no more than a metre or two, but it may as well have been a chasm of insurmountable distance. The silence was deafening, neither could or would speak as the time ticked by. Hope softly bit upon her bottom lip, waiting, wanting Michel to say something that would let her know that everything was going to be ok, that they were going to be ok. But at the same time, she wanted to speak so much herself, to implore the man she loved to cave to her request, to give in and submit to her desires. It would be for both of them after all. They would both benefit, could both enjoy it as a brief dalliance, a novelty. Then they would spend the rest of their lives together.

Finally, Michel motioned her towards the couch, before sitting next to the only woman he had ever really loved. Gently, with reverence, he held both her hands in his, and looked into her eyes, searching for anything and everything.

"Michel," Hope began, but Michel shook his head, quietening her. He held her gaze, looking lovingly into her eyes, lost in the love that was held there, but taunted by it as well.

"Please, Michel," she began again, but once more Michel quieted her. He leaned forward and kissed her softly on the lips and felt her shudder. She was so delicate, so perfect. Her lips were hot and moist, and he could feel her breath come in ragged bursts.

"I agree," he said finally, and Hope's heart almost burst. She launched into a full hug, almost swallowing his larger form in her smaller one, as she wrapped herself bodily around the man in front of her.

"However," he continued, slowly extricating himself from her limbs that encircled and held him. She stiffened, suddenly scared of his next words. "There are a few conditions that are non-negotiable."

"First up, let me state right now that I feel you have pushed me into a corner, leaving me little options. If I don't agree, I am sure that you will end up cheating on me," she tried to deny it, gasping and shaking her head furiously, but he held a finger to her lips, "I am sure that you would. Oh, you'd hide it from me, or try at least, then you'd lose even more respect for me, which would completely destroy our relationship. This desire is too powerful for you, or you wouldn't have brought it up. It would gnaw at you until you gave in, and then where would it stop? When would it stop?

"Alternatively, I could simply agree with all your demands, but that would leave me with nothing. In the game of casual sex, you will clearly win. This isn't a fair enterprise, and you know that." He said, gesturing at her body, "You're beautiful and sexy, and a woman. You could go out right now and find someone to fuck you within an hour. How can I compete with that? We would be competing on different fields, hell, we'd be playing totally different sports.

"Or, finally, I could break up with you here and now, but that would hurt me deeply, more so than you know, and I'd still be left with nothing. And you'd still go out and get fucked by as many dicks as you can."

The tears began to fall from his eyes, which prompted a like response from her, as she mouthed over and over again "No."

"So here is what will happen for me to agree to your outrageous, cruel request." At those words she shook in fear, those words held a hint of anger and deep, unsettled devastation within them. Oh, she knew that he would never lay a finger upon her, her fear was not of physical threat, but she feared for her relationship, for her coming wedding, for her future.

"The time will be changed from six months to twelve."

"No, Michel. The wedding. Six is all I need, I just..." she was desperately imploring him, but again, he shushed her.

"Twelve months. As I said, this is non-negotiable. These are the terms, or we simply end our relationship, here and now, no matter how much it will kill me to do it."