A Taste of A Life Less Monogamous – Chapter 15
“Today is the day we change our lives,” whispered Ryan, staring at the crack in the ceiling of their bedroom, morning light filling the room. At least, he thought today would be the day. Jennifer, beside him, still slept.
Their talk last night — more than just talk, of course — had seemed pretty conclusive. It seemed that a new and unexpected factor was about to assert itself in their lives. Speaking of things asserting themselves… Ryan glanced down at the rising tent of sheet which revealed his body’s assent to the planned course of action.
After the second session the night before, they’d retired to the shower to clean off, and that led to a third session. After that one, just heavy breathing and lying in bed. Staring upward.
“That was something.”
“Are we going to do this?” she’d asked, between breaths, “Or is this just an imaginary thing? Like Dr. Petrillo telling us to share our fantasies.”
He rolled onto his side. “I’m in if you are.”
“We jump together.”
She rolled on her side to face him, lying nose to nose, at the center of their king-sized bed. “With Bruce and Paige?”
“I wouldn’t know where else to start,” he said, “So that seems like the best course of action.” As an afterthought he added, “I mean, assuming you want to fuck him.”
Before the words had completely left his lips, she was nodding. Ryan braced himself for the wave of jealousy but found surprisingly little lapping against the shore of his mind.
“Do you want to fuck her?” Jennifer asked, awash with earnestness.
Ryan winced. The world, TV, movies, everything had taught him that this kind of question always led to bad things if answered honestly. An affirmative answer would lead to a “Why am I not attractive enough?” throw down, while a dissenting answer could go any number of other horrible directions, including, “Why must you always lie?” Never mind that he’d asked her the same question, and it hadn’t been a trap.
“Yes,” he said, finally. “Very much.”
Jennifer’s face betrayed nothing for a moment, then she smiled. “I think I do, too.” She buried her face in her pillow.
He heard the sound of her rubbing against her pillow as she nodded into it. In twelve years she’d not indicated any attraction toward women. He pondered it as an old kinetoscope spooled up in his mind, something he’d seen converted to a flip book, in the garage of a buddy when he was nine. Two women, curvy, nude, in a fluffy boudoir, nuzzled against each other’s ample breasts before beginning to swat at each other with pillows. Their bushy pubic hair stood out in vivid black against the fading rest of the image. Only in the kinetoscope of his mind, the two women were his wife and Paige, and after the pillow fight they collapsed on the bed, embracing.
He snapped back. She’d unburied her head but wasn’t looking him in the eye. “Yeah?”
“That’s okay, right?” she asked.
“That I want Paige? That I want to,” she searched for the words for a long while, “do stuff with girls?”
“Oh! Yeah, of course.”
“You don’t think it’s weird?”
“Promise.” He’d pulled her in and left a kiss on her forehead, drifting to sleep soon after.
Now, in the morning light, he rolled on his side to look at her again. Her sleep didn’t seem fitful. Perhaps she felt content for the first time in a long while. He brushed a lock of hair from her face. “Today is the day we hold our breath and jump.”