AllFreeNovel
Share Us
My chest warms. My stomach too. I like this idea. A lot. And knowing he's sharing a secret with me? Sexual confessions shouldn't feel this romantic. But they do. "Like at the club?" I ask.
He nods. "We've done that. But we could do it differently. One of the other ways I imagine."
"How does that go?" I turn my body toward his. I tune toward him.
He drifts off to some place in his mind. A memory. A fantasy. A scene he's used too many times. "I'm busy with something. A work call. Someone comes in and tries their best to distract me. It's a game. To see who can break first.
That sounds hot. Risky. Which only makes it hotter. And his. All his. Which makes my entire body buzz with something even stronger than desire. Affection. "What else?"
Need drops into his voice. "Sometimes, we're somewhere I know we shouldn't have sex." He takes a long sip, trying to stay in control. He swallows hard, looks me in the eyes, continues, "A church or a dressing room at the mall. Or a hotel pool. Sometimes, we're somewhere we can't have sex, and she teases me, by flashing her breasts, or slipping my hand between her legs, or placing her palm on my thigh. Not enough to get either of us off. Only enough to lengthen the tease."
My cheeks flush. My chest too. "I like that one."
"We can try it after this."
"I want another fantasy first," I say. "A complete scenario. I gave you a few. So it's your turn. Something you're embarrassed to tell me. Something you think I won't want to hear."
"Right here, in the middle of this Thai restaurant, stone-cold sober?" he asks.
"Yes," I say.
"What if I'm not embarrassed by any of my desires?" he asks.
"Then you're a more evolved person than I am." Is that even possible? I should know, better than anyone, how often people crave the taboo, how little shame benefits anyone, but I still feel the twinge all the time.
He refills our mugs and takes a long sip of his tea. It's not steaming any longer, but it is warm. He's not hiding from the heat. He's embracing it. "I'm not embarrassed by any of it. Notanymore. But I don't want to tell you I crave scenes where I have power over people. Where I use a partner as a prop for the benefit of someone else. I know it doesn't mean I want that in real life. I know it doesn't mean I lack respect for women or struggle with letting go of authority. But it still feels wrong, at times."
"I know what you mean," I say.
"The scenes aren't all that unusual," Jackson says. "Sometimes, I'm a professor punishing a student. Or a student is trying to seduce me into a perfect grade. Sometimes, I'm a boss ordering an employee to satisfy me. When I read too much crime fiction, I see myself as a mob boss, using my wife as a prop to fuck with other people."
That's not what I expect him to say. That's so far from what I expect him to say. And I love that. I love the way he surprises me. "Tell me about that one," I say.
"There's a man who wants something from me, who I know wants you, so I ask you to interrupt our meeting, strip for me, demand me, fuck me right in front of him. We make him watch. We make him crave you. We make him hurt for it. Just because we can."
It's certainly not the most fucked-up thing I've ever heard, but it's certainly not a fantasy I'd share with friends. I'd worry what they thought of me. But he's willing to share that with me. He trusts me. There's something impossibly sexy about that trust.
"Sometimes, it's not so outlandish. A colleague. An opposing lawyer. A group of young employees. But it's always the same. I fuck someone in front of them because I can. Because I want them to know I'm the one with the power." He sets his cup down and looks me in the eyes. "I don't know if I'd ever try it. I've never invited a third person into the bedroom. I know a threesome is a common male fantasy, but it's never been one of mine."
"It's not a traditional threesome," I say.
"And there's another man. Not another woman. That's not what men are supposed to want."
But he does. That's what he's saying. He wants another man to watch us. At least, in his fantasy life, he does. "Could it be another woman?" I'm not sure why I ask. Curiosity maybe.
"No." He shakes his head. "Ever since Cassie came out, I… I can't think about seeing two women together as sexual. It crossed some wire in my brain."
My lips curl into a smile. "I never got why guys wanted to see girls kiss each other. But, yeah, after that… it didn't just feel odd. It felt wrong."
"It was almost always a man," he says. "Even before that. Sometimes, a lot of times, a woman's ex-boyfriend. I wanted him to see I was a better fuck."
"It is okay to tease you about a massive ego?" I ask.
He smiles with an ease I don't expect.
We have a trust here. A comfort.
We can share what we want without jumping to conclusions.
