Between the Sheets

The lunch a couple of weeks ago with Paul was Jay’s idea. The concept came up at the cocktail party we went to earlier in the month. Jay’s colleague, Marc, was dabbling in the film business. It was mostly documentary work, but there was tremendous opportunity for composing score to the films. Of course that night, Paul was the first to pop into my head when Marc said he needed a musician to host a gathering of documentary filmmakers at his home on New Year’s. But, I would never let Paul’s name past my lips.

Jay finally did, last week. It’s a small community of artists, musicians, writers in our neck of the woods. Jay’s mention was bound to be an attempt to cut off anyone else’s mention of Paul beforehand. “Would he be interested?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“You are talking to him still, right?”

Fuck. “Once in a while, we still speak.”

“Lo.”

“Yes, we talk. Not regularly, but we speak.”

The talk of my feelings about Paul unfolded from there. Days passed and a new virtual friend entered my life. Someone who was quite unexpected. J started to talk with me about my feelings–for him and for others. What did they mean? Was I pushing J out?

Ultimately, the lunch with Paul to give him the news about the gig was not a test, but a show of “love and trust” on J’s part. J wanted, after all that we had talked about, to try to incorporate (not banish) things from my life. A platonic lunch with Paul was a good way for J to be the diplomat, without having to see the man who slept with his wife–just yet.

I was nervous. Jay must have been ill. Paul looked incredible. (more…)

I am restless (Breaking the Golden Rule or Restless Cravings). I also find it very hard to disconnect myself from someone who has ever touched my heart in even the smallest way. Perhaps that is a comfort to a new paramour. Perhaps it is a shock for readers who believe me flinty and untouchable–an “ice princess.”

What is it about the year ending that makes us want to patch up connections, resolve, redefine and otherwise make amends to relationships that have been torn in some way? How is it even possible that circumstances etched in betrayal might make a reappearance in this new year?

I spoke of my courtly love with Paul before in Breaking the Golden Rule. What I didn’t reveal in that tale (and should have) is that before I pushed Paul off of me, before I pushed him out of the warmth of me, I came. I cried when I did, tears the only way that the exalt I felt in my orgasm could escape me. The tears were also bitter pain I knew I caused J the moment I lay in that bed, though he knew not my betrayal at the time. If I said I enjoyed Paul in the original story, would that have made me more his harlot? Would it have made me less J’s wife?

When the interested reader asked me if I came with Paul, I relived it in its beautiful pain. I had not told J. Should I? I had betrayed already. Was this not salt on an already deep wound? If I divulged it, would it show callousness or a wish to repair trust and love with J?

J is stronger than I imagined, perhaps stronger than I deserve. “I assumed that you came with Paul,” he said in discussion with me. He assumed that was why I stopped it, shocked by my betrayal only in the throws of great pleasure.

In truth, I was left in love with both of them months ago, a more difficult place that I had ever imagined. We all met under the “label” of swingers, and now we might transform into something else? The idea was absurd. (more…)