“Of course,” I said. “That’s what we’ve been doing.”
“And it’s been good for us.” Tara paused, and then added, “Honey, I want us to make it through this. Last night was a huge—I mean fucking huge—thing that happened to us. And I want to make it through this. I want to stay together after what happened.”
“I do too, sweetheart.”
We met in the middle and kissed a long, deep kiss. Afterward, we looked at each other, our faces full of caring. Then, sitting back, Tara picked up a slice of bacon and chewed on it.
“There’s one other thing,” I said. “Since we’re being honest. I exchanged phone numbers with Claire.”
Tara’s eyes shifted from thoughtful to playful. “Oh, I know.”
“What? How?”
“Like I said, I saw you and Claire fucking on the coffee table. You two were really going at it, and yeah, I felt jealous. But I’m not going to get into that. We’ve already done that. But I know because I met up with Claire later. We were on the back porch, and I introduced myself. It was really weird saying, ‘Hi, I’m the girlfriend of the guy who just fucked you.’ But we had a laugh about it. Maybe because it felt so awkward. She told me how generous you were with her, and that you guys had swapped numbers. She’s really nice.”
I sighed in relief that the news was already out there. I said, “It’s just something that happened. I swear that I’ll never call her.”
Tara’s warm smile was wonderful to see. “I love you for saying that, honey.”
“Man, I’m glad that’s off my chest.”
She giggled. “I figured you wouldn’t keep it from me. You’re not the cheating type.” Her eyes narrowed. “Or are you?”
I had to chuckle. “No fucking way. Not with our sex life.”
Tara smiled proudly. “Good.”
“And how about you? Are you the cheating type?”
“Oh my God!” She threw what was left of her bacon slice at me, and it hit me on the nose because I was too shocked to get out of the way. She said, “Of course I’m not, you fucker!”
But she wasn’t mad at all. Her delighted face told me. That delighted face I loved so much. It reminded me of a couple things that I had wondered about when we were driving home.
“Seriously,” I said, “why didn’t you fuck more guys last night? Me, I’ve got a natural limit. There’s only so many erections I can have. But you could’ve kept going.”
She was taken aback. “Wow, that’s a big one out of the blue. Well, I didn’t feel like going overboard. That was my first orgy, even though you worried it wasn’t. It really was my first one, and I was also busy looking around, seeing all the craziness. And, besides, I have a boyfriend. I wanted to keep it fair. Evie Stevie, you know.”
“You certainly did. Thank you for that.” I smiled at her, and then I asked, “Is that our last orgy?”
She gave me a sly look. “You never really know, do you? Surprises can happen.”
Her sly look left much unsaid, so I had to investigate: “What does that mean? That another one is possible?”
“It means surprises can happen.”
Ah, well. I waved it off. Nothing more was coming from her in that regard.
Time for the other thing I had wondered about during the drive home. I said, “Speaking of surprises, you surprised me last night. No, you shocked me when you took that come-shot.”
A little smile started in the corner of her lips. “Glad I can still surprise you.”
“Why’d you do that?” I asked.
Her eyebrow rose as a tease. “Why? Are you complaining?”
“No way. That was unbelievably hot. But you’ve never done that before, so I was curious why you did it.”
A pause, probably letting the suspense build up. Finally, Tara said, “When in Rome, I guess.”
Same thing she’d said last night. I simply shook my head, taking in her slyness.
She let the moment drag out a little longer, and then she said, “And by the way, I liked it. Before last night, I didn’t think I would. But I was caught up in the excitement. So I did it. And it was hot. When I walked to the bathroom, people were actually appreciative. They actually gave me a thumbs up when they saw me. It made me feel proud. And then, I saw my boobs in the mirror in the bathroom. I saw your come on me. I remembered your expression as you came, and then how you looked when it was all over. You looked so … so awe-struck by it. When I saw my reflection, it really hit me what I had done. I awed you and myself at the same time.”
Tara’s smile rose a little at the corner of lips. “Like I said, when in Rome.”
Her explanation held in the air between us, leaving me to marvel over what she had just said.
Finally, I broke the silence: “Will that ever happen again?”
Her smile spread across the full length of her lips. “Also like I said before. Surprises can happen.”
*****
Several days later, we were to leave on a trip to see our parents. First, we’d drive to my parents some hours north of us, in St. Augustine. Amazing how long you can drive in Florida and still be in the state.
After that, we were going to fly up to Illinois and see Tara’s parents. It was the first time we were spending time with both sets of our parents for Christmas.
My folks weren’t crazy about seeing less of me during the holiday, but they were being patient. It helped that my mom and dad really liked Tara. When I brought her to see them for a long weekend, they took to her right away. So they were being patient—especially after the news that Tara and I had moved in together. We were getting more serious, and I knew my mom hoped for wedding bells. They weren’t coming any time soon, but Tara and I had talked about it when we wondered about our future.
However, marriage certainly had not come up since the orgy, though.
One had to wonder: Would that night put a kibosh on us getting married? We were still together, but that would have to chalked up to the we’ll have to see category.
I had no clue about it. We hadn’t quite returned to normal yet. The idea of having sex with other people hung over us. Not that we caught each other glaring with eyes burning of anger and jealousy. No, the fact was simply there. Each of us had screwed two other people. And we were dealing with that fact.
But, in my opinion, we were dealing well. We still laughed a lot. We still chatted about things at work and friends and the holidays. We still made love.
During our lovemaking, I had to wonder if she was thinking about Kiefer or Paolo. Did she imagine their faces instead of mine as I looked down on her, thrusting into her in missionary position? She probably did imagine them. After all, sometimes Claire or Betty or Julie flashed before me while Tara and I had sex. This happened without me purposefully thinking about those women—their faces simply flashed in my mind.
So, yeah, I figured that happened to Tara, too.
Another curious effect of the orgy was that she whispered, “I love you” during our sex more often than she used to. Sure, we had said that to each other before. But after the orgy, it was more frequent.
Then, on the night before we left on the trip to see family, Tara said she was ready for anal sex. I asked her if she was sure, and she said she was. She had bought a special lube to numb her, and I remembered it from when Heather and I had done the deed.
But, of course, I didn’t mention that to Tara. She already knew about the things I had done with Heather, since she asked about particular acts that I had done before. And I was honest about what I did with Heather.
Also, Tara had told me of some things she had experimented with before she met me. Things like getting a facial come-shot with an ex-boyfriend and having a long relationship with another woman. Not that Tara considered herself a lesbian, since she was attracted to men most of the time. But there was something about the woman that got her seriously turned on. It was in that relationship that Tara had tried anal sex with a dildo. She felt comfo
rtable with her girlfriend, and was curious about trying it. She wasn’t wild about it, but it was kinky fun. She said she had liked anal beads better than the dildo.
So, now we were trying anal for Tara’s first time with a real cock. I could tell she was nervous. But she was excited, too. After I lubed up my erection, I pushed it into her asshole slowly and gently, just as I had done with Betty. Tara caught her breath, holding it.
“Breathe out, honey,” I said. “Deep breaths.”
She nodded. “Got it.”
She breathed deeply as I eased more inside of her. She was really tight. She looked back at me, her eyes as big as dinner plates. I asked her if she was okay, and she said that she was.
“You’re brave,” I said.
“Think so?” Her voice sounded strained.
“I know so.”
Tara said, “Your cock feels huge. Like you’re the fucking Titanic in there.”
I had to laugh. “You sure know how to compliment a guy.”
“And you know how to fuck a girl in the ass.” She let out a long breath. “Just don’t pound me like you did Betty.”
“No worries, honey. I’m totally fine with going your speed.”
She nodded and closed her eyes as I carefully pushed in further.
I couldn’t help but compare Tara with Betty. Tara had a sweet ass, but it wasn’t as firm as Betty’s. I wondered if I would ever hold Betty’s hot little ass in my hands again. I told myself to perish the thought and return my attention to being inside my girlfriend’s ass for the very first time.
Afterward, Tara said the anal penetration was uncomfortable, but it felt sexy in a different way than when I was in her pussy.
“Maybe I’ll try that again sometime,” she said. “But I still liked anal beads better. Back when I tried them before I met you.”
“Should we try them?” I asked, open to the idea.
“Sometime, yeah. I want to do that again. But not for awhile.”
“Was it what you hoped for?”
Tara thought for a few moments. “It wasn’t like what Betty was yelling about. But I guess it’s different for everyone. I’m sure she’s more experienced with it than me. And she sure likes the feeling of it. But it’s not something I’d want to get regularly. There are many other things I like better than your dick in my ass.”
I nodded. “And that’s how you figure it out. You give it a shot and see how you like it.”
“Yeah. We’re several things a shot, aren’t we?”
“We sure are,” I said and gave her a long kiss.
Christmas arrived while we were visiting Tara’s parents in the very cold Chicago suburbs. Tara had told me they liked me, after I had met them once before. So we had impressed each other’s parents—something I felt really good about.
I caught Tara giving me looks at her parents’ house. When I caught her, she smiled warmly at me, and her eyes looked like the Christmas tree: radiant and bright and cheery. I was puzzled the first couple of times I caught her. But then, on the third time, it hit me. Maybe she was thinking of our future. Imagining us being married and spending Christmas together. Having a house. Maybe a couple of kids.
I quizzed her on what was going on with those looks.
She tried to shrug it off with an “Oh, just thinking about us.”
“What about us?” I asked.
“Nothing. Not now, okay? I’m just enjoying having you here, that’s all.”
Surely, that wasn’t all. But I didn’t press it.
And then, after a couple of glasses of eggnog after Christmas dinner, Tara shot me with some mischievous looks. One had to wonder: Was she remembering our anal sex or the orgy? And if the orgy, then what part of it?
I told myself that it really didn’t matter. We had the wonderful gift of our love for each other—and that was what really mattered.
Chapter 2. Valentine’s Day
Seeing Claire, I knew it couldn’t have been a coincidence. There was no way that she would’ve shown up in the same restaurant as Tara and I did. Of all the nice restaurants in town, she just happened to pick the same one as us? And on this night, of all nights?
Not a chance. This was on purpose.
My mind raced for schemes. For a crazed instant, I thought Claire had followed Tara and I to the restaurant. But no—she was here first. There she was, approaching us from the bar as we entered the restaurant.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, honey,” Tara said, laughing at my perplexed face.
A big smile was on Claire’s face.
“Hey guys,” she said and hugged Tara.
Claire hugging my girlfriend? What the fuck was going on?
I quickly went through a mental review. I knew Tara had met Claire at the holiday party that turned into orgy. I knew Tara had told me that she saw me fucking this gorgeous redhead on the coffee table. Then they had met in the back porch and chatted. I had admitted to my girlfriend that I swapped phone numbers with Claire.
That was all I knew. So, what happened?
Tara had not mentioned anything about Claire since the day after the orgy.
And I had definitely not called Claire. Hell, I was enjoying the sex that Tara and I were having, so there was absolutely no reason to cheat on her. Also, I was so in love with Tara, that I had moved in with her—the summer before the infamous holiday party.
This was the first time I had ever lived with a woman, and my worries about it being uncomfortable were for naught after we eased into a groove. We clicked nicely after the initial fumbling that lasted for a week. Our conversations didn’t feel forced. And when conversations didn’t pop up, we had become fine with being together in silence. Reading the newspaper or a book or doing work, we were okay with not being engaged with each other all the time.
Then there was an immense amount of sex. Before we lived together, we mostly had weekend sex. There were some weeknights when we slept over at one of our apartments, but it was mostly on weekends. But in co-habitation, we had sex all the time. Friday night after dinner in a restaurant. Lazy Sunday mornings after breakfast. After a long day at work. In the shower, before a long day at work.
It’s a beautiful thing to fuck your girlfriend, and then head into the office. I’d chat with my co-workers, all the while secretly basking in the afterglow of an orgasm.
So, yeah, I was in love with Tara, and I didn’t want to mess it up by going behind her back to fuck Claire. Even though Claire was stunning, I didn’t want to ruin the wonderful thing I had with Tara.
At the restaurant, I came up empty in trying to recall if Tara had mentioned that she had talked with Claire after the orgy. Actually, we hadn’t talked much about the orgy, beyond the morning after it.
Tara and Claire’s laughter snapped me out of my thoughts.
“You look like you’re stuck on some math problem,” Tara said.
“Oh, you’ll figure it out eventually,” Claire said. “It’s good to see you again, Steve.”
She raised her arms and came in for a hug. Embracing her felt really good, and I flashed to back when I had pounded into her, as she lay on the coffee table.
I found my voice: “Good to see you, too.”
A third woman arrived. The restaurant’s hostess, holding menus. “Everyone here now?” she asked us.
“Yep,” Claire answered, and the hostess said to follow her.
The restaurant was trendy, the kind of hip place that the cool crowd flocked to. The walls were dark brown, softly lit by pockets of red-tinged lamps here and there. Candles on tables flickered. Lots of couples sat at the various tables, and I wondered what people thought of our group of three people. A little different for a Valentine’s Day date.
Tara had picked this restaurant for our date. I had chosen before, on past Valentine’s Days, but she insisted on doing it this time.
So this was why she had insisted. She had cooked up something with Claire. What was her aim for doing it? Valentin
e’s Day was supposed to be intimate, romantic. Why would my girlfriend share that with another woman? It had to be to bring Claire home with us. Could there be any other reason? Or was that stupidly wishful thinking?
If it really turned out to be that Tara cooked up a threesome, then my gifts to her felt lame in comparison. I had bought her a dozen red roses and silver dangling earrings that she was wearing to the restaurant.
The hostess led us to booths along a wall. Each booth had a curtain that stretched across the entrance, which gave it a thin separation from the rest of the dining room. The curtains were red and opaque, like a veil you could partially see through. A bridal veil over a face. Or scarves twirled by a belly dancer.
The hostess parted the curtains, so that Claire, Tara, and I could enter the empty booth and settle on the cushioned seats. Above the seat backs were glass divider walls separating us from the booths flanking ours. Claire and Tara took their seats first, and they sat together on one side. That left me to take the seat opposite to them. Which was great, since I got to view both of these lovely ladies.
Seeing Claire brought back moments from the orgy. Like when she hit me with her bright blue eyes as she said, I like sucking dick. Like when she knelt before me and gave me a gloriously good blowjob. Then me eating her out at the coffee table. Then, as I fucked her pussy, another guy fucking her mouth. I remembered Claire’s face as the other guy came inside her mouth. I remembered Claire moaning in ecstasy as I gave her two orgasms. One by cunnilingus, another by my thumb rolling her clitoris while I fucked her.
“Here are your menus,” the hostess said. “Your server will be with you in a moment.”
As we thanked her, she pulled the curtain closed. The red, opaque curtains let in teasing amounts of sights and sounds from the restaurant. Enough to remind us that we were in public. Still, the curtain—added with the glass dividers above the seats—gave the effect of being in our own semi-private little world, away from the people around us.
“Sweetie,” Tara said, grinning, “you still look like you’re stuck on some difficult problem.”
Tara & Steve: A Tale of Swingers Page 6