Emily, Richard, And Tom Ch. 01

It was not difficult for Tom to identify the couple he had come to meet, and likewise, the man of the pair had pegged Tom almost immediately. He made a half-waving gesture in Tom's direction. The woman---the man's wife---did not turn around. Tom gestured back with an upraised finger indicating "one minute".

Tom walked to the bar and ordered a drink, keeping his back to the pair that waited for him to join them. He hadn't been in this bar in years, but it still felt stylish---cool, blue neon lighting---not dark. It must have been quite hip back then, but now the few patrons that occupied the hotel lounge were 40- to 50-somethings---upscale, but decidedly not hip. Tom could see the man talking to his wife in the mirror above the bar. He paid the bartender, sipped the drink she left behind, and pulled off his jacket. A t-shirt and jeans were too casual for this bar, but not too casual for the meeting that brought him and the couple to this place. He left his jacket on the back of a bar stool, and walked with his drink to the booth where the waiting couple sat. Tom could see the husband communicating to his wife that he was approaching.

He stood up from the booth and extended his hand. "Tom? Good to meet you," he said in a slightly too upbeat voice.

"Hello Richard," Tom responded, shaking his hand. "Good to meet you finally."

"Tom, this is Emily," he said gesturing toward his still seated wife. She smiled a forced half-smile.

"Hi Emily---pleasure to meet you." He extended his hand to her and she reluctantly reciprocated, the smile still frozen on her mouth. He shook her limp hand gently, and then held it for a moment longer than was comfortable. Tom stared intently at her before he released it.

"Well...uh...let's sit down and talk a little bit Tom," Richard said. He slid into his wife's side of the booth and extended his arm along the back of the seat behind her. Tom sat down where Richard had been and faced his new acquaintances. They made small talk for several moments---Tom and Richard that is. Emily sat silent---not withdrawn, but assiduously avoiding Tom's eyes by alternately looking at her drink and her husband. He recognized this period of inane but necessary banter with the eager---and anxious---husband; he understood the mute and doubly anxious wife. It was more than ice breaking. Richard---unconvincingly assertive in the exchange---was maneuvering for control ahead of the real conversation they were about to have. Emily deployed passive-resistance to an encounter she did not need or want. Tom had participated in this script several times before and had his role well rehearsed by now---relaxed but attentive; empathically responsive; interested but not prying. There was no need for him to rush the process. Richard, like all of the husbands, would become impatient with his own chit-chat and find an awkward segue to the business at hand. Emily might let her guard down if he maintained an unhurried, no-pressure manner. She had, he was sure, received plenty of pressure from Richard already.

To say that Richard and Emily was a handsome couple would be too generous---above average appearance perhaps, but not striking as a couple or individually. They were a middle-aged couple. Richard, perhaps athletic years ago, carried the excess pounds typical for a man his age; that, and gray thinning hair, put him close to 50. Emily had maintained a more fit physique than her husband. She wore stylishly short hair, too auburn to not be dyed, and sleek glasses. He had seen her before, in a vacation-photo attached to a clandestine email from Richard sent to entice his attendance at this meeting. The poolside picture of a modestly breasted woman with full thighs and ass, in a bathing suit too risqué for a middle aged wife, had indeed piqued his interest. Tom liked that fact that she looked so comfortable in the revealing suit---the kind of comfort afforded only by a distant Caribbean resort and a few marguerites. She was not a natural beauty, but he found her shapely form and confident smile attractive. He had revisited the photo several times prior to tonight's meeting, closing in on the uniquely pretty face sporting sunglasses and large earrings. Richard had asked him to keep his possession of the image a secret.

"You know, Tom...uh...in your email you said you've done this a couple times." Richard was ready to move to the main course now.

"Yes, a few times," Tom responded, offering a low estimate. He probed lightly, "Have you had any experience with this before?"

"Well, no," Richard said. "We did get as far as meeting once with another guy---recently---and it just didn't feel right. Hard to say why, but we both agreed---me and Emily that is---we both agreed that it just wasn't a match. Right baby?" For the first time he sought to include Emily in the conversation, resting his hand on her shoulder as if to demonstrate their alliance.

"Yes", she said. "I guess so---kind of creepy." She looked at Tom for the first time. Tom smiled understanding. This was a good sign---she had divulged some critical information about another prospect---she had determined that he (Tom) wasnot creepy.

Richard chuckled, "Yeah, kind of creepy." He cleared his throat as if to indicate an important admission was coming. "We did a little swinging several years ago, but we haven't really done anything in a long time. We didn't really swap that much---two or three times with a couple we met. It was fun, but we just didn't pursuit it very long. Just a thing."

"Yeah, I know," Tom said. "This kind of stuff is very idiosyncratic---very difficult to find people that you trust and that you click with. There are so many variables that have to work. It's hard."

"Exactly!" Richard responded with animated appreciation. "It is so difficult to meet the right people."

Tom had scored a direct hit and took the opportunity to advance the agenda.

"I know we discussed a bit about this in our emails, but maybe you can tell me a little more about what you and Emily are looking for." Tom deployed a therapist's look of earnest concern as he dropped the confessional ball totally in Richard's court. Tom knew he would run with it.

"Well, I...we..." he looked at Emily and then back to Tom. "I guess really it's my fantasy...um...to see Emily with another man." Upon this admission Emily reflexively lifted her glass to her mouth and gulped a drink. Richard looked at Emily again. Tom could see them both flush simultaneously. It was quiet for several seconds. He intervened while Richard was back on his heels.

"So you'd like Emily have sex with another man while you watched?" Tom asked as if to clarify the obvious.

Richard nodded, "Yeah I guess that's really it. Emily knows that I've been turned on to the whole---ah, you know---cuckold thing. And I think with the right guy I could really get into that. I think Emily would like it..."

"I don't know," Emily interjected before he could complete his sentence. "I don't know."

Richard moved to squelch her reluctance. "Honey, don't get so anxious---we had fun with Chris and Gene---it's not that different."

Tom took this as his cue to ally himself with Emily and, at the same time, offer some titillating details to fuel Richard's fantasy. "Well Richard, actually, other than the presumption that everyone consents, it really isn't much like swinging at all---I think that's the term you used. This is quite different and I think it may be helpful to Emily if I tell you what I would be looking for if we decide to move ahead."

Richard and Emily stared at Tom in rapt anticipation now. He let them hang for a moment.

"You know, Richard, I'm not really sure what the whole cuckold business actually means. I understand generally what you're expressing but, I'm not a 'Bull'". Tom chuckled slightly, gaining their confidence and relaxing the air. He smiled at Emily and she did not try to escape his gaze. Tom continued, "I've had some really great experiences with couples that enjoy serious role playing. And, in the scenario that I am interested in, the game is pretty simple---I would direct the action, I'm the boss. I enjoy being domineering and very much in control of the scene---that would include dominating you Richard---not just coming over for a fuck-show for you to watch. I enjoy fucking, being pleasured in the way I want to be pleasured, and I like be domineering to the husband expressly with the intent of demeaning him in from of his wife."

Richard nodded earnestly---the teaser was working for him. He squirmed in his seat, and then he sat back in the booth to collect himself. He reached for Emily's hand and squeezed it. Tom thought she squeezed back. It was time to retreat a bit, turn down the intensity, and play restrained, concerned counselor.

"It's just something you both have to be sure about---really agreed about---before getting into it too deeply. It can really be intense if we're all on the same page." Tom paused as if he had concluded his case. He turned the tables on them once again. "Is there anything you want to ask me, or any concerns you want to let me know about?"

Richard sat forward again. "No, not really. I think we are largely thinking about the same thing."

"What if it doesn't work for everybody?" Emily asked more assertively now. "Or what if something in particular doesn't work forme?"

Richard looked to Tom for a response to Emily's concerns. Tom responded directly to her. "Emily, when I say 'domineering' or 'demanding', it means within the parameters or limits of the scene we're agreeing too. They're negotiable, and no one is going to force you to do something that you just can't do." Richard looked back at Emily---she was still focused on Tom. "That said, I'm not a hired hand. I'm not the fuck-bull. And I think this type of scenario---the scenario that I think Richard is interested in---works best when my needs take precedent. I'm going to make it work for me first. And, to be honest, if there are too many points to negotiate, you and Richard should look for another partner to help you out."

Richard hurried to reinforce Tom's point, "It's all part of the fantasy honey. If you don't like it we'll stop."

Emily sat back and rested her head on the back of the booth. She closed her eyes and slowly shook her head back and forth. "Oh fuck, Richard," she said with an exasperated sigh. She held her hands to her face and mumbled into her palms "The shit I let you drag me into." Her hands slid down her cheeks and she let out a resigned laugh and sipped the last of her drink, shaking a chunk of ice into her mouth.

"Honey, it'll be hot." Richard rubbed her neck sensing her tentative surrender.

"Emily," Tom said. She looked at him from the corner of her eyes, not lifting or tilting her head from the back of her seat. "I think you'll find me very sensible and--- sensitive---to both of your concerns." Richard continued to massage her neck with one hand.

"Richard" he said. "Are you satisfied with what we've talked about so far? Does it match what we discussed in our emails?" Richard pulled his hand down from Emily's neck and leaned on the table. "Yes, pretty close," he said. "The idea makes me nervous and turned on all at the same time."

"Perfect!" Tom said with a joking smile and raised eye brows. "That's the idea isn't it?"

"Yeah, I think so," Richard smiled, looking over at Emily.

Tom looked at his watch. "Listen, I'm going to have to get going pretty soon. I know you two will have a lot to discuss after this little 'meeting'." He could see the disappointment on Richard's face. He knew Richard wanted to cement a firmer commitment from him and Emily. Tom continued, "You know, whether or not we all decide to pursue this soon, it has been very nice to meet you both. But, since we're this deep into the discussion, maybe we should just do a little test-run right now, right here. Give you a sense of what I have in mind."

Richard and Emily looked at each other and then back at Tom. "I don't know," said Emily. "Here!? What do you mean?"

"Richard? What do you think?" asked Tom, ignoring Emily's road block.

"Well, I suppose we could just get a sample of what Tom means---before we finally decide," Richard answered to Emily, trying not to betray his fantasy that this discussion might end upstairs in a hotel room, with a full night's rendezvous. "What can it hurt honey? It'll help you get a better picture of what we're talking about."

Tom broke in with a less compassionate tone now. "Actually, Richard, it will give you a better picture of what I'm fucking talking about." Tom looked intently at Richard across the next silent moments. Richard licked his lips and then wiped them with a napkin---nervous activity---and nodded agreement to Tom.

"Richard, I want you to go get my coat on that bar stool back there. And get your wife another drink while you're there. You can get me one too." Tom pushed his empty glass across the table and brought it to rest in the middle of Richard's chest. Richard took the glass from Tom's hand and reached for Emily's glass.

"Okay, I'll get your coat and some drinks," Richard said agreeably, with a little waver in his voice. Embarrassed, he looked over at Emily and laughed quietly.

"Richard, when I tell you to do something, I only need two words from you."

Richard looked dumbfounded for a second, but he felt a surge of adrenaline as the meaning of the words registered. He felt Emily's gaze without looking at her. "Yes Sir," he surrendered. Emily let out a small giggle. Richard got up without another word and walked to the bar on rubbery legs. He was relieved to be excused from Tom and Emily's observation---a chance to catch his breath and absorb the implication of this first morsel of fantasy come to fruition. His long-fantasized relinquishing of his wife's pussy to another man was, as of now, far away. But this minor forfeiture of control to the stranger tugged at the same psychological threads and stimulated the same dopamine release that made him return time and time again to the websites of demeaned husbands and wives fucked to ecstasy. He ordered the drinks and looked at the jacket on the stool. He picked it up and brought it close to his face as he folded it over his arm. He caught a slight scent of the man he was inviting into his life.

Tom stood up and stretched his arms, conspicuously, as if loosening up before exercise. He tucked his shirt back into his jeans and stood at the foot of the table for a moment. Now Emily saw him for the first time---taller than she had registered in her anxious first view of him. He was not a young man, but fit---not overly lean--- with an upper body that suggested regular exercise and a trim waist. Tom rolled into the seat beside her.

"Hello Emily," he said resting his right hand on the seat very close to her leg. "This is better." Emily did not resist his encroachment or refute his comment. She was not frightened, nor intimidated; neither was she ready to acquiesce to a future rendezvous with him.

"I think we've said hello already," she responded impatiently.

"Oh...oh yeah...I think you're right. I was so nervous when we met the first time it must have went right by me."

Emily rolled her eyes, but got his point. "Okay, okay---got it. Yeah I was a little tense." She let go a tight smile of embarrassment.

"Listen Emily...before Richard comes back..." Tom spoke in a more serious and urgent tone. "Play along with me. You could see that Richard was getting into this. Just follow my lead for a few minutes."

"What are you going to do?" Emily asked.

"Mostly talk. I'm going to talk to him about you---with me. I want him to see us close. I want him to see me touch you."

"Jesus!" she sputtered. "I don't know."

Tom took her hand and pressed her again. "Emily! Just fucking relax for a minute and give this a chance. I think I can offer you and Richard a very intense experience. You can give Richard his fantasy, and I can give you a great deal of pleasure in the process."

"Oh yeah," she said. "Richard's fantasy is going to give me all kinds of pleasure. I've heard that one. Richard has always promised some unimaginable pleasure at the depths of his fantasy life. That's not typically how it goes. I don't expect this to be any different. In fact it feels like a new low---turning me over to some stranger so he can watch me get fucked." She shook her head. "Lovely."

Tom pushed back, "It's not an unusual fantasy Emily. Lots of men have it. Jesus! At least he's not off cheating with someone, or hiring some fucking craigslist-whore. He's building this fantasy with you at the middle of it. And he's taking a big risk too---not every fantasy turns out to be so fun in reality. Some guys think they want it, but then, once they're actually faced with the sight of their wife getting a good fucking in their bed, they come crashing down to earth---hard."

Emily did not answer. She did not wrest her hand from Tom's grip. She stared down on the large hand that engulfed hers, transfixed on the unfamiliar veins that ran across the back of his hand and then disappeared above the wrist into his large muscular forearm. She could not reconcile the stranger's salient masculinity with his forbearance; the tight T-shirt and his articulate empathy. Maybe, she thought. Maybe.

"Emily, just follow my lead for a few moments. You don't have to go any farther than this. You can decide later about doing anything more---at home with Richard."

Richard returned with the drinks and he spotted their joined hands. He set a drink in front of Richard and slid the other to Emily.

"Man! What took so long?" Tom snapped at Richard.

"I don't know Sir---the bartender was busy." He looked around the lounge and back at the bar, feeling conspicuous and vulnerable despite the nearly empty room.

"Sit down," Tom ordered. He took a gulp of his drink before addressing Richard again. "I've been enjoying talking with your wife. You're very lucky." He held up their joined hands. Emily did not look at Richard; she stirred her drink as Tom continued. "I like Emily a lot. She's not a pushover, Richard. And I don't know if you're going to get your big fucking fantasy party. It sounds like you've dragged her through a lot of shit already."

Richard's heart fell and the chemical rush came to a stop. "Well, Sir, I hope that is not the case, but it will be up to Emily." He looked to Emily who was staring at him coldly. She was emboldened by Tom's leveling of the discussion. "Honey, I know you've tried lots of stuff for me, and I know it's very hard for you, leading up to new stuff, but you've enjoyed lots of it too. We've had a blast just anticipating something together. We've never continued something that we didn't both like. I hope this would be the same. Try it---see where it takes us---and let it go if it doesn't work for both of us."

"Well, I hope it works out," Tom said looking at Emily. He squeezed her hand. "I find you very attractive and I hope I'm going to get a chance to demonstrate that to you. We'll get to see if Richard likes being our bitch while you and I party together." Tom looked at Richard, "What do you think, Bitchard?"

Emily dropped her head to her chest and clamped her lips shut trying to muffle her laugh, but she couldn't contain the giggle, and then she laughed out loud. Tom chuckled aloud also, enjoying Emily's first expression of levity and enjoyment of the evening.

"I'm sorry Richard," she said, still unable to contain her laugh. "I'm so..."

"Don't be sorry. It's okay---isn't it Bitchard?" Tom taunted.

"Yes Sir," said Richard.

Richard looked sheepish, but not stung with hurt. His private musings and cuckold surfing had prepared him for such a blow. Indeed it titillated, and he found new hope for his cause in Emily's amusement.