I pulled out of my wife, spent and satisfied like I had never been satisfied before. I had heard women say it was just cock. It was just sex. Maybe for them they couldn’t feel it.
But I felt it and I think Sawyer did, too. It was something far beyond the act or words.
I panted looking at him as his cum and mine dropped from my dick. I said, ‘You and me, tomorrow after work. We’ll go on our own little date.’
His eyes searched and sought, finding nothing duplicitous. He gave me a nod. ‘I’ll get your cell number and message you.’
Alissa raised her head and said the wrong thing, ‘Are you two going gay?’
Fuck that faggot shit! I scowled at her. But my heart wasn’t in it because the real barometer – my dick – had just been there.
She giggled at my look.
I scowled deeper. Did the woman not know how incredibly sexy and beautiful she looked with the cum of two men leaking out of her?
I shared a look with Sawyer that hinted he might feel the same way. I said, ‘I’ll get my phone.’
He twisted around and sat down on the bed. He blew out a long breath of air.
I got my phone from the second bedroom and returned. I handed him mine. He handed me his.
We entered our info.
We traded back phones and I held out my hand.
He looked at it in confusion and started to offer his phone, but then recognized the gesture. He looked up at me and gripped my hand in a handshake. There was no struggle.
Often there is a competition of strength in a handshake. Not here.
A less than firm grip, but far more than gentle. It was the kind of squeeze a man gives to his best friend’s shoulder. We shook for a few seconds, then released.
There was a hint of satisfaction on his face as if he had just discovered a twenty dollar bill in the pocket of a jacket he hadn’t worn in years.
He didn’t stay the night, and I slept in my wife’s embrace, comfortable, warm, and secure.
Did she even know she was an object of worship? Or did she assign her own interpretations to what we were doing?
Friday after work was exciting.
Not sexually.
I was meeting someone with a mutual interest: my wife.
I was going to be making the rest of the connection that bridged us all together. I had been looking forward to it the whole day.
We met at Bigby’s Bar, as arranged. It was a cute little place, maybe a little pretentious for the neighborhood. But the owner kept it clean and appealing. Bright neons, halogen spotlights, and a fair-stocked liquor wall gave a cozy atmosphere. Sometimes I came in for a beer. It seemed like a good place to talk.
I was at the table already when he came in. I had a double shot of Espolon. Jimmy Bigby had started carrying it just for me, though I didn’t come in much anymore since I had married Alissa.
He pulled out the chair opposite and sat. Neat, tidy, sharp – all of that was Sawyer. Me without a mustache.
I said, ‘You want something? I’m buying.’
He gave me a hopeful side of neutral look and said, ‘Scotch is good.’
I got up and ordered him a double on the rocks. I set it down before him and sat down. ‘I wanted to talk about Alissa.’
He raised his glass. ‘She’s a good subject.’
I raised mine. ‘She’s the best subject.’
He grunted his assent and took a gulp. ‘I’m all ears.’
‘I was pleased you aren’t trying to pry her away from me.’
He scowled ferociously. ‘I wouldn’t do that.’
‘As I’ve seen. Of course, I was still angry…’
He fiddled with his glass, not looking at me. ‘I know… and I’m sorry. She and I had much unfinished…’
‘Trust me, I get it.’
He looked back up to my eyes. ‘I wasn’t going to take her from you, no matter what developed.’
‘I assumed that was the case. Alissa doesn’t lie and she portrayed all this as a test of what could’ve been.’
He sighed. ‘I was stupid…’
I slugged back my Espolon and tasted the hints of citrus and pineapple. ‘We do what we do. We think we do right. Sometimes it is, sometimes it isn’t.’
He nodded.
‘I’m sort of sorry about the punch.’
He waved a hand. ‘You deserved the right to throw it.’
‘Maybe, but I believe otherwise now. We’re… connected… by the same woman. It would be silly to fight.’
He raised his glass again. ‘I’ll drink to that.’
I drank with him. ‘I want you to know I’m comfortable. You have as much right to be there as I do—’
He tried to resist. ‘No, I wouldn’t say that; you’re married to her.’
I motioned my hand as if trying to calm or silence him. ‘Sawyer, Sawyer, hold on. She told me that you two did it… a lot. More than I have with her. There’s something there and it came before I slid that ring on her finger. Okay, I can admit that. I can accept that. But to… reject that… is something foolish.’
He held his glass in both hands as if to warm and melt the ice. ‘What do you mean?’
I slugged most of the rest of my Tequila down. I placed the glass firmly on the table with an audible reinforcement of my point. ‘A foolish man would try to break up the relationship you have with her.’
His eyes narrowed.
I said, ‘The wiser man realizes that it isn’t just the man involved, but also the woman. I can no more banish you than I could banish her – because her relationship to you isn’t one-sided. You don’t force her to have sex with you—’
‘Of course not.’
‘She has as much interest as you do and I married into that interest. If I were to banish you, I would be hurting her.’
‘And… you accept Alissa?’
‘I do. And therefore I accept you, too.’
He looked at me with suspicion – but it was the curiosity of discovery not deceit. ‘That’s why you shook my hand.’
I grunted and finished off my drink. I was feeling good. ‘You still living with your parents?’
‘Yes, my wife is likely to get the house in the settlement.’
‘We have that second bedroom.’
He lowered his chin, raised his eyebrows and gave me the strangest look of disbelief. ‘Are you serious?’
‘I am, actually. If you aren’t close, you want to date her. That takes my time away, too. Why not both of us date her? Why not realize that we’re both central in her life? Makes sense to me, anyway.’
He blinked, several times, slowly. ‘Have you asked Alissa about this?’
I leaned back and laughed, letting out a good amount of joviality. ‘You… know her at least as much as… I do.’ I wiped my eyes. ‘Do you think she’ll object?’
He hesitated only a second – one second in the eternity of the rest of our lives. ‘I accept.’
I extended my hand.
He extended his.
