Every time my wife gets ready for a date with me, she spends time on her hair, makeup and the clothes that best flatter her curves. That night was no different, with one exception: I was not her date. This particular night she was prettying herself up for her first date with another woman. She was nervous. She changed her mind back and forth at least twice on backing out of the whole thing. No matter how many times I told her I thought she was sexy and that I was OK with it, she naturally had reservations.
How we both got to this place is a story in itself. Like many others, Andi has always been curious about “what it would be like” with other women, and appreciates a good set of proportioned curves, sometimes sharing her own appraisals of women we see on TV or around town. However, her journey to making love with another woman proceeded slowly. We are kinky, open-minded, curious and –until that night– monogamous. Like many couples, we shared our sexy dreams and enjoyed porn together, but we’d kept it all in the realm of fantasy.
About a month before this night something changed. Andi came home with something she had to tell me. It seems a switch flipped in her and she decided she wanted to take the next step and actually meet another woman and see if they clicked. She explored the safest option and found someone from one of the hookup apps who was also curious and willing to meet up for the safe lunch.
I admit I was a little shocked she’d gone that far without telling me beforehand. I was also more than a little turned on, to be honest. I was not hurt or mad. To that point, we’d discussed hypothetical rules and what-ifs while in bed together, but nothing concrete. Anyway, Andi had lunch with the woman I will call Michelle and they hit it off pretty well, feeling the next step would be the three of us to meet for coffee before she and my wife went out on a real date, solo. Both of them were surprised when I didn’t balk at the idea or try to invite myself, turning it into my own male fantasy.
That’s when I reminded my wife how many times I’d told her that I didn’t necessarily want to be a third and supported her explorations one-on-one if that’s what she wanted. In my mind, two women making love is a beautiful thing; a work of human art I don’t need to mix my brush in. On the flip-side I know that if I take the plunge of sleeping with another guy, I will want her there with us and involved in some way. The hottest thing I can think of is having him balls-deep inside me while I am balls-deep inside her. I want to be able to look her in the eyes when I feel a cock slip into me the first time, but this story isn’t about me.
Fast-forwarding to the big date night, with all the logistics and protocol out of the way, all that was left was for the evening to begin. I had to get her out the door without trying to take her right on the spot and remind myself that for that night at least, she didn’t belong to me. We’d agreed that the two women should go out, have drinks, dinner and more if the mood was right. I was OK with Andi not coming home until the next morning if that’s what fate had in store.
So, at this point, I was alone in the house with my thoughts, wondering what was going to happen and hoping they didn’t back out early or worry about what I needed. A couple of hours went by before I got my first text from Andi. While we’d agreed texts and calls weren’t really necessary or expected, I was happy to find out she and Michelle were having a good time. The second text I received made it clear just how well the evening was going. They sent me a short “selfie” video of the two of them kissing rather passionately and Andi ending the clip by mouthing “thank you.” My body reacted immediately and with an intensity I hadn’t felt since my early 20s and I mouthed back “you’re welcome.”
Another couple of hours went by before I got what turned out to be the final text of the evening. It said “See you tomorrow morning. OK?” It was accompanied by a photo of a hotel room key. I responded with, “Yes, darlin’ have fun. See you tomorrow morning.”