A New Look for Marriage Pt. 03

"Well they're all written down. Would you like a wax-sealed notarized copy?"

"Stop it. Just save it somewhere, you don't have to be sarcastic about everything." I slap him lightly on the shoulder. "We need a safe word too."

"Huh? Why?" He lets out a laborious breath.

"In case one of us wants to stop it."

"Why not just say, stop?"

"Because Colin, if we do this, there might just be another man in the room and it would be nice to have a signal only we understand." I say mocking his sarcasm with my own.

"Fine, apples." He rolls his eyes.

"Apples? Colin, that's so stupid. Something more natural. How about, "I don't know what time it is?""

"That's not a word, that's like an entire sentence."

"Can you remember it?"

"Sure, whatever."

"Then that's the code word, or phrase or whatever. I'm serious Colin, if something is going to happen that you can't handle just say, "I don't know what time it is.", ok?"

"I don't know what time it is, I got it."

"Ok, so now what?" He asks while still staring straight ahead at the screen.

"Well what about rule number 8? What do you think?"

"I don't know, maybe online?"

"Online? Colin, no." I say giving him a crossed and confused look.

"Why not? We can just find someone who does this sort of thing, there are websites and stuff, look..." He starts opening a browser.

"Colin, did you hear me? No, absolutely not."

"What you have someone in mind already? Did I miss something?"

"No, I just thought maybe one of your friends or..."

Cutting me off, "What?! Are you out of your fucking mind?! I'm not asking one of my friends to do this."

"Why not?"

"Ummmm, why? It's better if it's anonymous."

"Don't swear at me Colin. I don't like it."

"Don't say stupid things then, ok Michelle?"

"Stupid things? Colin? Some random guy? No, I'm not doing that. That's fucking insane!"

"Ahem Michelle, rule 5? Remember rule 5? It wasn't that long ago."

"What about it? Why does it have to be humiliating? Are you embarrassed of me or something?" He's starting to upset me and I'm giving him very crossed looks.

"Embarrassed of you? What the fuck are you even talking about? I'm not asking one of my friends to fuck my wife. Do you know how stupid you sound?"

"Don't call me stupid! You're starting to upset me."

His shoulders drop in resignation. "I didn't call you stupid. I said what you said sounded stupid. There's a difference." He says with calm.

I fold my arms and lean against the light of the window crinkling the half-drawn blinds. "Not as stupid as meeting some random scumbag off the internet. And then what we just meet him for sex?"

"Yeah, isn't that the point?"

"Just show up...at a hotel room...and there's a naked man? He fucks me and then leaves?" I stress each word.

"That's right, yeah?" He looks perplexed.

"Oh my God! This is not happening Colin. There is no way I'm having sex with some random internet stranger. Just no way. Let's just forget the whole thing."

My husband standing up quickly with a true look of alarm on his face. "Forget it?! No. Why?"

"How are we going to agree on this? You want me to just show up and fuck. I can't do that?"

"Ok, then what?"

"Colin, I wouldn't be attracted to someone like that."

"You would see his pictures before."

"Pictures? What do I care about pictures? I need to trust him and like him or I'm not going to be attracted to him and I'm not sleeping with anyone I'm not attracted to. It's crazy too. We could get robbed, extorted, killed or whatever else. How would we even go to the police? I'm not putting myself in that sort of vulnerable situation. We aren't single people Colin, we have responsibilities, kids and a lot of other things. There is not a chance in heck I'm inviting some random fucking stranger into our bed. Just not about to happen, do you even..." A few tears escape the corners of my eyes as my words are fired in rapid succession.

"Ok, ok, ok, slow down, then what Michelle? You're right. I'm sorry, you're right." He changes into pacification mode. "Maybe you can find a guy?"

"Me? Find a guy? How?"

"I don't know. It's never been a problem before, right?" He appears to be genuinely confused.

"Huh? I've never asked a guy on a date. They ask me and usually it isn't random and it doesn't happen all the time. I wouldn't even know how to approach a guy. You have to do that."

He moves close to me and wraps his arms around my closed posture, pulling me away from the window. "Honey, don't get upset, ok? Don't get upset? I hate it when you're upset."

"I don't want to be upset, but this is upsetting me." I shrug my shoulders in a childish attempt to free myself from his grip. "I don't know what we're going to do. It's ok if we don't do it. Really Colin, we don't have to do this. "

"Do you want to do it? Michelle, look at me, do you want to?"

He stands over six feet so my head easily relaxes into his chest. "Yeah, I want to, but I don't know how. I'm getting really nervous. I want to make sure it's what you want too and not just some fantasy that could never be true."

"Of course it could be, why say that?"

"Colin, I'll be having sex with him. It's intimate, not impersonal. I can't just be detached from it or I won't want to do it. I could get feelings and stuff. Are you ok with that? Because if you're not then we can't do this."

He holds the back of my head and moves back and forth slightly. "No, I get that and I'm ready for it."

"Honey this is serious, stop getting hard, I can feel it." I uncross my arms and wrap them around his body.

"I can't really help that."

"But are you serious or just horny?"

"I'm serious."

"Then you're going to find someone?"

"Yes, I'll figure something out."

I create a bit of space to look him dead in the eyes. "Colin, look at me, no tricks and no games."

"What?"

"Just repeat it, no tricks and no games." He knows enough to know he's not going to get one over on me, but just in case my eyes remind him.

"No tricks and no games, I promise."

With that settled, I place my hand lightly between his legs. "So, now do you want your dick sucked?" He leans back against his desk and nods slowly in approval. His cock springs out of his pants, stiff and to complete attention. Dropping to my knees, the desk slides slightly on the floor rendering it a bit crooked. I tease the head with the tip of my tongue while looking up to make eye contact, teasing him to look at me. "You want to see me like this?"

His office is small, but made to look large through my husband's eye for arrangements. He's a very good judge of space and knows exactly how to fit each item for the desired effect. As an engineer he is very good at what he does, in that effect his strict organization is no small matter. It's almost frustrating how little is out of place. My room, by contrast, has clothes and blankets draped in various ways and places from day to day, wine glasses often cracking with dry red and smudged lipstick, different piles of half read books and papers, lots of papers. Everything here is so neat and aligned. I bet if I measured the distance the laptop is from each edge of the desk it would come up equal.

"Going to suck his dick?"

"Uh-huh" I nod, taking the head into my mouth. "Going to swirl my tongue round and round on it too, just like this."

"Going to kiss it?"

Planting full kisses on his head and down the shaft of his cock, I continue between kisses. "Oh yeah, I'll kiss it all over, big kisses. You like that?"

"I love when you kiss it." He exhales loudly.

"You ok honey. You wanna to cum?"

"Yeah, do it."

I take my mouth off his penis and stroke it vigorously with my right hand. He pops off a little in preparation for his orgasm. "You cumming? You cumming honey? Do on my face. Do it on my face, ok?" I tilt my head to the side, aiming him right at my cheek, and hold it still.

"You're such a fucking slut!" He grunts ejaculating all over the side of my face.

My face covered in cum, I look up, smiling, from my knees. "You made such a mess of your nice clean office." I pout seductively. "You cum so much sweetie." His previously neatly arranged file folders have been scattered, there are pens on the floor and the receiver hangs by its cord off the desk which has been pushed completely askew.

Smiling back and chuckling with satisfaction at my disheveled shape, he touches the non-drenched side of my face. "Don't worry, I'll clean it up."

It hits me like an epiphany, one of those moments of clarity where everything makes sense. I'm the one thing in his life he can't control. He loves me for the contrast I bring and is fascinated by my form of scattered passion. I'm an element he's never quite understood and in that my flaws excite him. Even my temper and I do have a nasty temper which can strike with little warning. Wild in my mood swings I never manage to bore him. Manic in one moment to detached in the next; he never knows what to expect. He feeds off my histrionics. If anyone knows the workings of a histrionic person intimately, they know that the sweetest can't get more sweet and the salt can't get any saltier.

My sexuality also burns both ends of the extremes. I do crave the comfort of a loving and intimate relationship; a partnership which is expressed by loving making rather than defined by it. On the other extreme, I'm drawn to the danger and volatile nature of infatuations and inappropriate trysts. It intimidates him in ways, but he's fascinated. It's a world he doesn't understand and has never been a part of. He doesn't understand hot sweaty dirty banging in strange hotel rooms under disreputable circumstances. He doesn't understand being compelled to risk everything on an impulse. The rush, the neediness, the drama, the self-destruction and the vanity so intertwined with the seedy side of sex he is living through me. He wants to see me when I'm burning my hottest.

Neither he nor I were virgins when we met, but there wasn't any doubt as to who had more bedpost notches. He had only had two intimate relationships before me, one of which he described as disastrous without elaboration. I provoked him to loosen up in bed and invited him to share in some of the messy aspects of sex. I can remember the first time I asked him to cum on my face. His eyes widened as if he were a kid getting away with shoplifting for the first time. From there, it was hair pulling, pushing my head down, light choking games and whatever else I could ask him to dominate me with. He did it, but it was never really in him. He's a sweet guy and I love him for that. I've long since stopped asking him for the rough stuff in bed and I do like what we do. Our relationship matured, our sex is about the expression of our commitment.

He wipes my face with tissue before completing our afternoon interlude with a long warm embrace. "I love you sweetie." I say melting in his arms.

The dirty streets and people I pass are looking uglier with each passing day. I'm not raising the issue again. We had our fun and that was that. Why did it have to be anything more? I'm certainly not about to fuss about it or show too much enthusiasm. I can't bring it up again, even the hint of pressure would be wrong. It is a lot to ask of him, I should have expected it to freeze over. I'm willing to let it drop, and I will drop it, but I haven't quite let go yet. The excitement I was feeling only short weeks ago seems to have evaporated and I want it back. Maybe the life of an old maid isn't a bad life, I can sew buttons and watch the children run to the park from my window sill. My chest feels heavy with a sinking heart longing for my bed. I can pull the covers over my head, hold my knees to my chest and press down the edges so no darkness escapes; that existence sounds too lovely to be. Yes, I tick the box for drama queen on the histrionic checklist.

Brushing my hair, washing off my make-up and preparing for bed seems unusually laborious tonight. I've spent the past 15 minutes absentmindedly looking in the mirror. I don't feel sexy. I can see the telltale signs of my 44 years making outlines extending from the corners of my eyes. Maybe nobody would want to sleep with me? He probably asked his friends and they said no. Now he's embarrassed of me and doesn't want to say anything. These poisonous thoughts creep through my head like wandering ghosts. I press under my cheeks in an attempt to stretch the wrinkles, even if only temporarily. With a critical eye, I scan for greys. These aren't good thoughts. I know they don't do me any good. I need to find acceptance in myself and what I have. Still I feel so restless.

"Michelle." Shake...shake...shake... "Michelle"...shake...nudge...shake...

"Ugghh, what is it?"

"Honey, are you awake?" nudge...nudge...nudge...

"Co-linnn, not now, I'm sleeping."

"No, not that, something else." His whisper is more excited than one looking for a quick roll in the sack.

"Ok, what? I'm awake." I take a generous hold of as much of the comforter as I can grasp and pull it into my body while rolling my back to him.

He saddles up close to me ear. "Honey, I think I found someone. No, I'm sure, I mean I think, if you're ok with him that is."

Flashing open my eyes sleep seems like a distant memory, "Really? Who? What are you talking about?"

"A guy I know."

I sit up and flip over in a single motion. "Seriously who?" I push his shoulder lightly. "You mean for?"

"I think so. What? You look upset?"

"No, I think I hurt my neck sitting up." I reach across my body feeling at my shoulder and neck.

"Want me to massage it?"

"Could you? It's like on my back more than my neck." I lay down with my left shoulder exposed. He begins to tell me about a man he describes as in his mid to late 40s. An architect from a small group he's subcontracted some smaller jobs to. He lives outside the city, but his work came to my husband's attention through a reputation for quality. Their friendship is cordial and mostly business in nature, but they share no real associations. He contacts Colin whenever he's in the city and they play racket ball, never really talking much shop. It's one of those business social things I have no basic concept of. In any event he seems convinced he presents no professional threat to him. I can only take him at his word on that account.

"You're absolutely, 100%, completely sure that he's not married?" I tweak my neck a little more to give him my best, "I'm not joking glare."

"He's separated, but it's fine."

"Fine as in they're living apart? Colin don't lie to me." In my experience, there are two things that otherwise honest people will lie about and those are gluttony and lust, otherwise known as food and sex.

"I'm not lying, he's not living with his ex-wife."

"Ex? They're still married. Make sure, ok?" There's an uncomfortable pause. "Colin, I'm serious. I'm not screwing around with a married man. The last thing I need is getting bitched out by a not quite ex-wife."

"I told you, he's separated. I'm not lying."

"If you are, I'm going to know. You can't fool me."

"He told me he was separated months ago; they might even be divorced by now. I didn't even bring it up and we hadn't talked about this before."

"You mean you actually talked to him? Are you serious? What did you say?"

"Yeah, I asked him if he wanted to meet my wife."

"Huh? You think that's talking to him? Colin you need to be direct about this. Don't make a fool of me."

"Would you calm down? That's not all I said."

"Well what else?"

"Are you going to let me talk?"

"You're not saying anything!"

"I would if you stopped interrupting me. Are you going to listen?"

"Ok, I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"I asked if he was seeing anyone and that my wife was looking to date..."

Interrupting him, I shoot back to a seated position forgetting completely about my neck. "Colin! You didn't? Oh my God, you said I was looking to date?"

"What?!"

"I'm just embarrassed, you said that to him? Who is he?"

"You're embarrassed?"

"No, I mean I don't know, what did he say? Was he confused?"

"Not really, I mean he was cool about it. I told him I wasn't sure you would want to, but that I would ask."

"And he wants to? He doesn't even know me. What's his name?"

"I showed him a picture."

"Which one!? He knows what I look like? Show me!" He fumbles through his phone before holding it for me to see. "You showed him that one!? Colin, I look awful! That's the best picture you have of me? Why did you show him that one?"

"I think you look pretty in it. He thought so too."

"He said that?!" I can feel myself blushing.

"Yeah, don't worry, he wants to meet you. If you want to that is? He was fine about the whole thing."

"You weren't embarrassed? Are you sure?"

"Not really, I mean I thought I was going to be or that he would laugh at me. Once I actually asked him though it was fine. He's a good guy really, I think you'd like him. And I've seen him changing."

"You what?"

"I saw him in the change room."

"You looked at his dick? Colin no? How could you?"

"It's a change room Michelle, at a gym, men get naked there, I didn't ask him to pull his pants down or anything."

"This may shock you but I really hope this isn't the reason for your selection." His face never lies to me. "Co-lin, it is, right? That's the reason."

"So what? I want that too."

"Too? You want to see me impaled or something? This isn't going to be part of my decision you know? Plus he wasn't even hard, unless there's something about locker rooms I have no idea about."

"I could just tell?"

It's hard not to snicker. "How many have you seen getting hard? You can't really tell."

"Yeah, I'll take my chances."

"Ok, ok, but giant penis aside, I'm going to have to meet him and get to know him a bit. Oh, and I'm going to cyber stalk him a bit too. Make sure this whole thing checks out and he's not some online weirdo you drummed up."

"I didn't meet him online; stalk away my dear."

"So what's his name?"

"His name is Anan, he moved here 15 years ago. He's got a bit of an accent but he's easy to understand. Want to see what he looks like?"

"Yeah, sure."

He flips through his phone and shows me a picture. "Well, what do you think?"

"He looks ok I suppose, I can't really tell."

"How can you not tell?"

"Because I haven't met him yet."

"So you want to?"

"Yeah, I think I do. I'm not making any promises, but let's make a date."

The reality of it all still hasn't set in for me. It's still just fun and games. Fun and games, but it's impossible to deny that that stakes are getting higher. We keep pushing that envelope. I'm thankful for what he's doing and fearful that he may get hurt. Sleeping in the same bed as someone for 20 years, I think most people have marked out their personal spaces. Tonight no such space exists. I cling to him all night long.