Monday, July 21, 2014

Do we have to?

You think either of us has anything on our minds other than him?

You think I can't tell she's thinking about him all time? Planning it, anticipating it, waiting for it? 

You think she can't tell the same about me? That every time I kiss her goodnight, I'm thinking about it? That every time I look at her, catch her eye, it's on the forefront of my mind?

Not just the big it, either, not just the 'what could happen at the end of the night' it. Not just sex it. More, so, so much more.

"What," she asked me, seeing me in the mirror, standing behind her, watching her.

"Nothing," I said softly, looking away.

"Seriously, what?"

"You...you're going on a date," I said.

"I am," she answered.

"It feels...different."

She turned, looked at me. "God, you feel that way too, don't you?"

"Yes...why?"

"I don't know, Sara, he feels different, I can't explain it."

"I can. He knows," I said.

"Evan knew I was with you, so did Jeff."

"No," I said, "Matthew knows. Like, he knows. You had a thing with Evan, before me. He didn't know, he just...it was about you. And Jeff, he's like..." I laughed. "He collects pretty things, you just happened to be a married, pretty thing. Being married didn't matter all that much."

"So..."

"Matthew...he knows. I mean...he...you don't happen to be married, I think he wants you because you're married." She didn't say anything, even glanced away. "What?"

"Nothing."

"Emily, what?"

"I don't know, it's just...you're right, of course."

"He wants you because you're married?"

She nodded. "He...yes. He wants me because I'm married, it's obvious, right?"

I looked away. "Em..."

She turned, touched my arm. "Sometimes I'm afraid I read you wrong, sometimes I'm afraid you don't want what you think you want."

"Emily, I...it's not that...I do...I just...I'm afraid he..."

"What," she asked, "he what?"

"I...I don't want him to just want you, I don't want him to just want to fuck you. I mean, do I like it when I see that look in a guy's eyes? That he wants you? Yes, you know that. That's like our little secret...flirting...this is different. I...I want..."

Emily stoked my arm, moved her hand to my chest, touched the bra I was wearing. "My pretty little sissy doesn't just want a man to fuck me, I know...you want a man who wants to take charge."

I took a deep breath, she knew what I wanted, deep down inside she wanted it too. Not just a so-called bull, but a dom, a dominant man who did more than fuck my wife. An alpha man who, in some ways, became a part of our relationship, part of the dynamic. Not to replace me, emotionally, but to enhance what Emily and I had. I didn't want my wife to simply fuck another man, in a way I wanted him a part of us, a threesome, as it were, though in a very unique way. I wanted a man who was willing to take charge, to some extent, of Emily, of me, of us.

Wasn't that the true nature of cuckolding? Of my submissive desires?

"Don't get ahead of yourself, love," she said.

"Meaning?"

"You're projecting too far," Emily said, "I mean, I get it, I know what you want, I know what you fantasize about, I know your goals."

"So," I said, for the first time defensive. "You don't agree? You don't share them?"

Emily laughed. "My pretty little sissy."

"Em..."

She smiled. Then she shuddered. "Love, I share them, of course I share them, love. My god, to have intimacy, and that's so important, support, love from you while..."

"While?"

"While having a man, too? What woman wouldn't want that? I'm just saying that we don't know he's the guy to give that, we don't know his goals match your...our goals. They might, they could...he seems...different."

"Like he gets it," I asked.

"Saturday," she said, "we have dinner reservations at eight."

"Yes," I asked, feeling the tightening between my legs.

"He texted me...last night."

My eyes narrowed, my mouth opened, the disappointment was obvious.

"Honey, no, no," she said seeing my face. "God, if I ever doubt that you want it as much as me, I just need to remember that face. Does he know? Does he share our goals? We have dinner reservations at 8, he texted me last night that he's picking me up at 7."

"Here," I said, "he's picking you up here?"

"Yes," she nodded. "You're right, Sara, he knows. He totally knows."

"Em," my voice quivered.

"I don't have to, love, you know I...we...don't have to..."

"Yes you do...yes we do," I answered. "I mean, I know we don't have to, but..."

"But you want to," she answered for me.

"Yes...yes."

"So do I, love, so do I."


2 comments:

  1. So how did the date go Sara? Well I hope :P

    ReplyDelete
  2. So good, Sara! I am sooo looking forward to seeing more.

    xoxoxo

    Christine

    ReplyDelete