This story contains adult content and is only suitable for persons over the age of 18.
“Anyway, one of the wives there wanted to know about aids.”
“The wives were there, too?”
“Well, Audrey had come in by then. Anyway, Jon told her we wouldn’t have to worry about that. That’s the whole beauty of it, he told us. He said we’d recapture the lost innocence of our youth because there wouldn’t be any serious sex at all.”
“Ah… I see,” I laughed, rolling my eyes. I was terrible. All I could wonder was how long this was going to take so we could start fooling around, again.
“The simplicity of it is amazing. “ “Nola, stop that!” “We formed a group of six couples. Every second Saturday, we’re going to meet at a different couple’s house and then split up into different couples and go our separate ways to have dates. So every second Saturday, we’ll be having a date with a different person.”
He paused. “Now, pay attention. We wrote up some guidelines.
Basically, you can be out with that person pretty well all night, if you want to.
You can do everything in the book if you feel like it and both people are so inclined.
The only thing you can’t do is have intercourse.”
“Kind of like a virgin key club,” I quipped.
Then let’s keep dancing Feb 10, 1990 Jon
It was Saturday night. We were on our way to the third meeting of the club. I couldn’t wait to get there. Chad started up, again.
“You could have at least tried to do something with your hair. Why didn’t you wear it in a bun?”
“What?” I reached up and turned on the overhead light and adjusted the mirror. It looked okay to me. My freshly washed tresses shone dully in the light. I pulled them back behind my ears to see what a bun would look like then let them drop . Could still smell the foresty pine aroma of my shampoo.
“I’m sorry,” he went on. “I don’t like being seen with someone that doesn’t look good.”
Why did he insist on doing this to me? I’d felt good when we left the house.
“No, Nola, I mean it. We’d get along a lot better if you’d dress better and wear your hair nicer.”
. “I look just fine, Chad,” I managed though I wasn’t so sure about that now. I’d thought I looked really nice.
“Oh, come on! That top’s too small on you.”
“Hardly,” I sighed, doing up the buttons of my coat. “What’s the matter with you? Why are you always trying to put me down?”
“I can’t help it. It’s just me. I like to be seen with someone who looks good.”
“Well, I’m with you,” I said innocently “and I’m not freaking out.”
He turned the stereo down. “But you’re not like that,” he said. “It’s just the way I am.”
“Please turn the music back up. I love this song.” Diamond Mine, Blue Rodeo was on. I reached over and cranked it up, myself.
“No!” He turned it down, again. “I feel like we’re getting somewhere. This is a really good talk.”
Why was he doing this to me?
“You should see a shrink,” I told him.
“I’ll see a shrink if you go with me,” he smirked.
I hated being trapped in the car with him. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.
“Things would have been fine if you hadn’t gotten the waterbed to drive me out.”
“What?” Here we go. Nut city. “Chad, I got the waterbed for my room because you got a waterbed for your room if you’ll recall. It’s not my fault you turned out not to like waterbeds.”
“Well, you talked me into it, Nola.”
“Hardly,” I replied, gazing at the ceiling of the car. “Anyway, what’s your problem? You got your hard, lumpy, Econoline mattress. You were too cheap to spend the extra fifty dollars for a decent one. You shouldn’t complain.”
“There’s a depression coming. How often do I have to tell you that?” He rolled his eyes. “It doesn’t look right. You should sell your waterbed.”
“Chad, what for? It was your idea to have separate rooms.” At first, I’d felt hurt by it. Now, I was happy with the arrangement. “I’m not going to live a lie because you decided it doesn’t look good to your friends. We never do anything, anyway and you’d be complaining about the light and the TV on. What could possibly be the point?”
“Well, it might make things better between us. Maybe I’d want to do something.”
“Chad, you don’t even like me. We don’t make love. We’ve never made love. You have sex.”
We pulled into the driveway of Doug and Leslie’s four story red brick town home. My hand was on the door handle. I leapt from the car the moment it stopped. I couldn’t wait to get away from him.
Upon climbing a steep set of stairs and being ushered in by our hostess, we were quickly divested of our wraps and whizzed through a tour of the sterile house. Audrey is right! Leslie’s taste is in her … Reminiscent of those tight lipped, grim faced women of the fifties, plastic furniture covers were stacked neatly on a chair in the corner of the living room ready to be donned once again as soon as company was gone. Definitely not for human usage; definitely not user friendly. I started to enter the room but Leslie quickly advised me that the meeting was being held downstairs in Doug’s domain. She led us down a steep set of stairs into the rec room.
I’d felt very uptight so far in Leslie’s house but here, at last was a room I could relax in. Equipped with the obligatory bar peculiar to our group not to mention its saving grace, the room also contained a massive pool table and a cheery acorn fireplace.There was a dart board strategically placed and wine glasses dangled by their stems over the bar. I attempted a smile at my reflection in the mirror behind the massive mahogany bar as I made my way there for a vodka Collins.
It didn’t quite come off. Maybe I should have worn something different.
I kept pulling my hair back behind my ears then letting it fall again. Audrey drifted over and we talked while we waited. I was too nervous
to really dedicate myself to the conversation.
After what seemed like forever, everyone arrived and the ceremony was enacted. I ended up with Jon. Alright! I liked Jon, now that I’ve gotten to know him a little. Audrey and Jon have had us over a couple of times since the club started to play bridge. To avoid couple spats, Jon and I are always partners. He’s a really nice guy. He has these old young eyes and an aura of wisdom and he goes out of his way to make me feel comfortable. .
“What do you say we grab something to eat,” he asked. “There’s this fabulous little seafood place just opened up where Catch of The Day used to be.”
We took a cab to Fresh Catch of The Day as it is now called and spent the evening there discussing everything from politics to religion to music. The Fresh Catch had an ambiance that had been lacking in The
Catch. Fish nets hung everywhere. Coal oil lamps were on every table. They’d put in a gas fireplace in the shape of a sunken boat to complete the decor. The waiter led us to a private booth in an alcove with a reserved sign on the table. Dinner was fabulous complete with flaming drinks and Spanish Coffee, afterwards. I had the Jumbo Deep Fried Shrimp and Jon had the King Crab Steak Platter. It must have cost Jon a fortune. I offered to pay half. Jon turned me down which was just as well since I didn’t have a cent on me.
The long, black limo was waiting for us and I relaxed against it’s plush leather heated seats feeling contentedly full and with a sense of well being from the cocktails we’d consumed.
Jon handed me a perfectly mixed Manhattan. I took a sip then he took it back from me and placed it on the bar. He put his arm around me and pulled me close. I must have looked startled because he said “Look, Nola, I know you feel that you don’t want to be disloyal to Audrey but Audrey and I have discussed this and both of us have agreed that our personal friendships with you and Chad should have nothing to do with how we behave on our dates.
Audrey fully intends to treat Chad just like anyone else and that’s exactly how I’m going to treat you.”
He kissed me. What was going on here, I wondered. Am I really allowed to be doing this? He kissed me again and again.
“Well, you know, I really like Audrey,” I said when he let me up for air.
“Babe!” “It’s got nothing to do with you and Audrey or me and Audrey or you and Chad. This is strictly between you and me, doll, trust me.”
Jon leaned over and as his lips came softly crushing down on mine, he sort of pushed me down on the seat. This went on and on and pretty soon we were laying flat down with him on top of me. He had been kissing me the whole time. I’m a sucker for kisses, especially nice, warm, firm, undemanding ones which seek the kiss for the sake of the kiss.
Suddenly, I felt his hand rest upon my stockinged leg. His fingers began a dance, tracing tiny concentric circles as they went. Did he realize what he was doing to me, I wondered. He let his hand rest there.
With each kiss, he pressed more and more into me. His fingers started moving again and had now reached the inside of my knee. Would he go under my skirt? Curiosity had me in its grip. I pretended I didn’t know what he was doing. A thrill rushed through me as his hand slid up even further. His fingers went slower and slower. I couldn’t stand the suspense. What must the driver be thinking? Fortunately, there
was one of those black barriers between us and him but I’m sure he could hear our heavy breathing.
“Do it,” I whispered in his ear.
“Later,” he whispered back. “Having fun,” he queried, smiling.
“Oh, wow,” I moaned.
He straightened my skirt and together we straightened up until we were sitting side by side like nothing had ever happened.
Jon signaled the limo driver to stop and we got out and started walking. I knew where we were now. We had just entered the suburb where we both lived. We kept walking. My mind was racing like mad.
Were we going home? Were we going to fool around some more? What was going to happen? I hoped he would kiss me again. He kisses real sweet. We kept walking down the deserted street. Houses lined both sides of the road, silent watchers to our night of sin. We started to pass a park then he grabbed my hand and led me down the path behind a clump of trees. He stopped; kissed me; backed me up so that I was leaning against a tall, majestic Maple. He was kissing me again. It kept getting better. It was like he was a part of me. I felt breathless and weak. Oh no. We’d just broken the only rule of the club.