Pleasing Gloria

You’d pass my wife on the street without giving her a second look. There is nothing really distinguishing about her, at least visually. She is medium height, very thin, thick hair, narrow face, big eyes, longish noses, tight mouth and pointed chin. You’d just walk on by.

And if you heard her speak, you’d probably try to tune her out. She has an oddly cackling voice that can grate on the ear.

But if you tried to get to know her you would be faced with the challenge of understanding a woman who is a riddle of complexity, a character of opposites: compliant-determined, domestic-adventurous, feminine-masculine, serious-frivolous, active-passive.

And that’s why I’m so utterly in love with her. She is just so fucking interesting, so magnificently unpredictable, so naturally uninhibited. And she is so aggressive about everything. If she wants something, she works to get it.

“Do you want some help?” I was passing the computer room and just lobbed in the question.

“In about a half hour,” she said, without turning from the screen, so I went to my den to read.

I was lost in Harpers when I heard her call, “OK!” So I ticked my place in the article, put the magazine on the table and went to her.

She was swiveled away from the computer and looking at it sideways. I got down on my knees in front of her and gently kissed at her naked thighs. “What are you reading?” I said, then I pressed my face into my favourite place, the little trail of hair that travels to her navel.

“It’s a lesbian piece.”

That surprised me. I looked up at her, trying to read her face, “I didn’t think you liked that stuff.”

“I don’t usually, but this one’s interesting. It’s not about some college girls tearing their clothes off, its about two older women finding each other. It’s a bit of a psychological piece. It’s interesting.”

When I gently pulled her legs open she slipped down on the chair and I could smell her, “I think the story’s getting to you.”

She laughed, “No kidding.”

When my tongue felt the mild sting of her juices, she turned away from the screen and pulled my head into her.

My wife loves sex, sex of every kind. She doesn’t insist on it, usually doesn’t initiative it but she enjoys it and the more adventurous the better. Particularly roll playing. We both have pretty good imaginations and a couple of times a month we create a play together. Sometimes it ends in laughter, sometimes it ends in gushes and a few times it hasn’t ended at all, or not for a few days while we try to stay in character. And a lot of the time we do what we’re doing now. One of us logs on to Literotica.com and reads for awhile before the other comes in to help with the ending.

“You were beautiful,” I said, as I kissed her.

‘Thank you,” she said, as she rubbed her juices from my face with a tissue. “Are you OK?”

“Later? In bed?”

She reached for her panties, “You got it, Pontiac.”

And I returned to my magazine. But I couldn’t concentrate. What was in the story that made her so hot? She had never been into lesbian lit before, why was this story different? I found her in the kitchen an hour later and asked.

“Read it for yourself,” she smiled.

It was a couple of days later, we were in bed, the lights were out, “Did you read that story?”

“Story?” I asked, shifting on my pillow to see the dark outline of her profile.

“The one in Literotica.”

“About the lesbians?”

“Hmmmmm.”

“Ya, I read it, I agree it was hot.”

She hadn’t moved and seemed to be staring at the ceiling, “It made me think about lesbianism in a different way.”

“How?”

“Those two women were friends first, they had connected mentally and emotionally before they connected physically, sexually. They were mature, and made a mature, rational decision. I think that’s what turned me on. It turned me on to think that a lesbian relationship can somehow be a result of a close friendship, almost a natural consequence of it.”

“All close friendship between women should end sexually?” I was teasing her and she knew it so she threw her right arm against my stomach with some force.

“But some can, I can see it, I can imagine it happening.”

“Would you like it to happen to you?”

There was no hesitation, “Yes, I think I would.” Then she turned to face me. “What do you think? How would you feel if you knew I was having sex with a woman?”

I laughed, “I’d react like any man, I’d want to know ever tiny detail.”

“Seriously.”

“Seriously.”

“Really?”

“I wouldn’t want it to weaken our relationship, and it could, but if you want to experiment, and it seems you do, why not?”

“I knew you’d say that,” she said, lying on her back again.

“But be careful. We have worked hard for our reputations.”

She leaned into me and kissed me on the cheek.

The subject wasn’t mentioned again. I can’t say I forgot about it, I didn’t, but it seemed she had so I was more than a little surprised at a conversation I had at my wife’s annual office BBQ a few weeks later. I was sitting at a picnic table drinking a beer, watching my wife pitch a frizz bee with some kids when Wendy Shanks, a vice-president of the company, sat down beside me. “Stop drooling.”

“Drooling?” I turned to face her, not knowing what she meant.

“The way you look at her, I’ve never see a man so obviously in love with his wife.”

I shrugged my shoulders, “Well, ya, but drool?”

When she took a drink from her glass her eyes bore into mine, “You have wonderful sex together, don’t you?” I guess she could see how startled I was by the question because she quickly added, “Gloria’s told me.”

I didn’t know what to say so I just smiled, it felt like a particularly stupid smile.

But Wendy wasn’t smiling, “Do you know why she’s told me about your sex life?”

I didn’t, but it didn’t surprise me that she had. Gloria, as I’ve already implied, was capable of anything. “She’s a natural braggart?”

Wendy laughed, “She wanted me to understand her. She wanted me to understand how much she loves you.” Then she got up and took a few steps before looking back at me, “She’s asked me to dinner next Friday.” She walked away.

It was only then that I made the connection and when I did, I was stunned. It wasn’t that Gloria had actually acted on her whim or that she had acted so fast, it was who she had acted on. It really surprised me that Gloria would want to have a sexual relationship with Wendy Shanks, if that, in fact, is what this is about. Wendy is very good looking with what looks to be a fairly good body but she is at least 10 years older than Gloria. I would have thought Gloria would have gone for someone 10 years younger or even someone around 20 years old — 20 years younger! But then I laughed and thought, no, that’s me talking, not her.

It wasn’t nearly as awkward as I thought, in fact it wasn’t awkward at all. Wendy arrived at 6:30, we had a lively conversation about some shared acquaintances, had a first rate meal with a really nifty white and were on to coffee when Gloria asked Wendy, “Have you thought about it?”

Wendy took the napkin off her lap, folded it, put it on the table and sat back in her chair. “I have,” she said to Gloria, then she looked at me, “Do you know what we’re talking about?”

“I’m not sure, do I?” I asked my wife.

Gloria looked at me and spoke as if what she had to say was perfectly normal, “I’ve asked Wendy to consider experimenting with a sexual relationship.”

I didn’t know where to look, at my wife, at Wendy, so I looked away, “Yes, I thought that might be it. The only thing I can’t figure out is why I’m here.”

“Because you’re my husband. You should be here.”

I looked up at her. I was confused. “You want me to be a part of the decision?”

“Of course.”

“Fine,” I shrugged and looked at Wendy, “When Gloria told me she wanted to try … well, I guess it’s a kind of lesbian thing, I said it was OK by me, but that she should be careful. If it matters,” I smiled sheepishly, this wasn’t easy, “I’m, ah, impressed with her choice.”

“Liar.” There was a cynical smile on Wendy’s face and a little laughter in her eyes.

“Liar?”

“Admit it, you expected someone much younger, not an old bag of bones like me.” I started to protest but Wendy cut me short and directed her words to my wife. “I like you, Gloria, you know that, and I respect you, I respect you a lot, I always have. I don’t know if this will work or where it will go but I’d love to … what? Experiment, with you.”

I don’t know why but I was really touched by the wide smile that grew on my wife’s face. “Well,” I said, pulling away from the table, “I can take a hint.”

But I didn’t get away, Gloria took my arm and pulled me back to my chair. “You’re not going anywhere. When I talked to Wendy about this, I always included you. We’re a team, I’d never break up the team and Wendy knows that.” She cast a glance at Wendy, who nodded.

“So, what are you talking about, a three-way?” Honest, the thought had never crossed my mind.

“We’re talking about an experiment, and you’re part of it.”

The thoughts swirling around in my head were ill-defined, fragmentary. None of this was making any sense to me. My wife’s desire to make love to a woman? I could understand and accept that. But my involvement sounded a lot more kinky and I wasn’t sure I wanted it. And Gloria could tell.

She got to her feet, “Don’t worry, no one is going to do anything she or he doesn’t want to.” Then she reached for Wendy’s hand, “Let go into the living room.”

I took my time clearing the table. Frankly, I didn’t want to know what was going on in the living room, but as slowly as I was cleaning up, I eventually finished and I went in to join them.

They were together on the couch, Wendy’s arm was around my wife whose head was resting on Wendy’s chest. Their hands were together in Wendy’s lap.

I stood still for a moment not knowing what to do, then I sat on a chair opposite. “You look lovely together.” When I said the words I blushed, I felt foolish, but I had to admit they did look lovely together, lovely and really erotic.

As I’ve said, Gloria isn’t particularly attractive. In fact, she’s rather plain and her body is somewhat stick-like: very thin, with small breasts and long legs. Wendy, on the other hand, is curvaceous, almost Rubenesque, with wide shoulders and big breasts. And she is far prettier then Gloria, with intelligent green eyes, a reddish tinge to her long, curly hair and even white teeth behind strikingly sensuous lips. Really, she is more handsome then pretty, almost regal. If the two share a single trait, it’s their smarts. They both radiate intelligence.