One Swinging Summer (31 page)

I armed myself as best I could, chosing jeans instead of an easily accessible and removable dress. I topped it off with my most complicated corset. No way was nakedness tonight going to be anything other than on purpose.

My subconscience helpfully reminded me that nothing up to this point had been accidental, or forced. And that I had not only volunteered for it all, but usually with some degree of enthusiasm. I told her to mind her own damn business.

We weren't meeting anyone for dinner tonight, and I was grateful. I wasn't sure I would be able to eat anyway. My subconscience inserted herself again, sarcastically stating that liquor on an empty, nervous stomach was a brilliant idea. I shut her up again with a heavy, greasy burger from a joint I drove through on the way to Caleb's.

I sat beside him as he drove us to The Normal Bar, as I had started calling it in my head. I was unusually quiet, and Caleb tried to fill in the silences. Once we got there, we found a table and waited for our friends to arrive.

The bar filled up quickly, with many people looking for relief from the hot week with a cold beer. I danced some, with Caleb and the girls, but my heart wasn't in it. Midnight was weighing heavy on my mind.

I mentioned to Kate that we would be joining them tonight, and she welcomed us. She said we had missed toga night last weekend, but I didn't mind.

Midnight came before I was ready for it. As we headed over to That Other Bar, I tried to shake off my dread. I'd promised Caleb one more shot, and I wanted to give it an honest try. Sitting in the corner pouting wasn't going to work, so I psyched myself up. I ordered myself to go inside with an open mind, Caleb was right when he said I'd had many good times here.

I was surprised at how few people were here today. Kate had told me that some nights were like this, but it was the first time I had seen it for myself. There was probably only a quarter of the normal crowd. We sat down at a table near the dance floor.

I relaxed quite a bit as the hours passed. It was a cozy, friendly night and we drank and talked like most people do when they are bellied-up to restaurant bars, like your Chili's or Applebee's. Normal bars that don't have dance floors or naked distractions in them.

Soon our table was joined by a woman I disliked on sight. Maybe it was because she was here alone, or maybe it was the fact that she looked like she was trying to channel Marilyn Monroe, complete with the famous white dress. Either way, I didn't like her.

The men did, of course. Fresh meat. Soon she had the attentions of two or three of the guys at our table. Including Caleb.

If I hadn't already been on edge tonight, I probably would have found the whole thing amusing. She had introduced herself, saying she was a friend of a couple that came here a lot. I didn't recognize the names she threw out, but some at the table did. She said she felt alone and out of place, since she didn't see them here. Maybe she came on the wrong night?

You could almost see the guys' protective natures come out in force. "Of course you can sit with us." "We can't have you feeling uncomfortable and alone, not such a pretty girl like you."

Oh, please. I rolled my eyes at Kate who choked on her drink when she heard the same syrupy-sweet leacherousness come out of all the guys at the end of the table. Miss Monroe pulled a chair up to the end of the table, placing herself firmly at the man-heavy end.

Our table had more guys than girls around it right now, as a few of the ladies were dancing. Kate and I were the only ladies here. We were in the middle of the table, sitting across from each other. Caleb was on my right. Then the husband of one of the ladies out on the dance floor. Then Miss Monroe at the end. On her right coming back up the table was another husband, an empty seat, then Kate and Michael.

Kate said, "It really must be her first time, since she pointedly isn't making friends with us. As the only two women at an established table, a new, single woman should be asking us if she can sit down. Bypassing the women in charge is not going to go well for her tonight."

Miss Monroe was blissfully unaware of the code of conduct, basking in the attentions of the three men she had joined.

Caleb seemed to be torn. He was as interested in her as the other men were, but their women weren't here right now, and his was. And I wasn't happy with this new development. Caleb kept trying to pull me into the conversation they had going on, saying things like, "Isn't that right, babe?" and "Come see these pictures she is showing us on her phone."

Her phone was being passed around for the three men to see what she was referring to, and when the phone got to Caleb, he showed the pictures to me. I guessed from the photos that Caleb flipped through that their conversation must be about how much Miss Monroe liked to get her pussy eaten.

Photo after photo showed Miss Monroe in some sex act or provacative position, with a couple of women, but a large variety of men. Miss Monroe didn't seem entirely pleased that her phone had escaped the small circle that she had intended. I decided to add to her discomfort by including Kate and therefore Michael into the photo loop. Miss Monroe tried to look happy, and told us some of the back story to the photos, but her hard eyes and her deepening red color gave her away. Oh yes, she was aware of the code of conduct, she just didn't care. She wasn't here to make friends. She was here to add to her photo collection.

The wives that had been on the dance floor came back to the table, and Kate included them in the slideshow as well. Kate pointedly mentioned to them how Miss Monroe had joined the table and how Kate would introduce them but since she had never introduced herself, they were on their own.

I silently giggled to myself as the wives correctly interpreted the situation, and immediately introduced themselves to the new-comer. They pulled up chairs of their own, on either side of the lady, putting themselves between her and their husbands. "Subtle," I grinned at Kate, who only said, "She had that coming. She did it to herself." I laughed, thinking thoughts about henhouses and roosters. Miss Monroe soon tired of the girl talk and moved onto another table.

Caleb seemed disappointed that she left, and I said, "That wasn't happening anyway."

"What wasn't happening?" Caleb tried to look confused.

I rolled my eyes again, and changed the subject. "I never thought about cell phone pictures."

Now Caleb really was confused. "What about them?"

"The fact that people could use them in here. I don't want to be in anyone's pictures. Do you?"

"Not particularly, but I wouldn't fight it, either. I'd get harrassed if anyone at work ever saw them, but cops are known to be freaks anyway. It wouldn't hurt anything."

"I would mind. A lot. I don't want any kind of proof floating around that I've been inside these places. Especially not in the age of the internet. Hell, we could already be a sex tape on YouTube or something."

Kate had been listening and jumped in, "Cell phones are allowed inside, but you are suposed to ask before you take any pictures."

"But what if the person you are taking a picture of doesn't mind, but the people in the background do? I wonder if Miss Monroe asked everyone in her pictures if they minded being shown off in the next club?"

Kate laughed at that, but Caleb said, "Who?"

Kate said, "That's another reason I stay dressed in here. Well, most of the time."

A little while later, Caleb mentions in passing that his birthday is next weekend.

Michael says, "Are you guys coming here? Birthdays mean lap dances."

Caleb's eyes lit up and he turned to me, excited. I must have looked stricken, because his face falls immediately. He had promised never to ask me to come back. "Ever." He had said. I watched as he remembered that promise, and quickly tried to recover.

"Maybe," he answered Michael. "We haven't decided what we are doing yet."

"Well keep it in mind," Michael continued. "Especially the week after a dead week like this one. Next week should be full, and if you think this place gets crazy sometimes, wait until you see it when you announce a birthday in here. Let us know if you are going to be here, the owners get a big cake if they know ahead of time. It's a blast."

'Shit.' I think. 'Shit. Shit. Shit.'

I wasn't planning on ever coming back here. I had tried tonight, honestly tried. But with Caleb's reaction to Miss Monroe, my reaction to Caleb liking someone, and then the thought of pictures or videos getting out on-line, I was done. I was prepared to walk away from this whole scene tonight and never look back. Honestly, I had been prepared to do that weeks ago, but Caleb had asked me for tonight. For just one more time. And now he wants to come here again next week. For his birthday.

I know him enough to know he won't ask. He made a promise to me that if we ever came back it would be because I wanted to. Because I brought it up. Should I? Should I tell him that his birthday can be the last time? Of course I should. We started this whole adventure on my birthday, because I wanted to have a wild night. It is only fitting that we end it on his birthday.

I thought of what that would be like. Caleb getting lap dances from all the women on a packed night. Me pretending to enjoy the attention he would get. Trying to party with him. What if Miss Monroe came back? Or Ray and Laura? He would want to end up in the back room, of course. Wild birthday sex in a swinger's club. Could I do that? What if he wants company in there with us? Can I pretend for him? One last time? I'm not sure I can. The one consistency to this whole adventure has been honesty. Every situation we have gotten into has been honest. Nothing has been forced, or pretended. I don't think I can pretend on a night like that. This wild, erotic, sexually charged atmosphere is not a place where pretending is a good plan. Pretending gets you hurt.

CHAPTER 39
IF YOU LOVE SOMETHING, SET IT FREE...

The elephant in the room this time is big. Huge. And it's no girly elephant dressed as a french maid, no sir. This elephant is all male, wearing a pointy birthday hat. And surrounded by many smaller girly elephants doing lap-dances. Elephants doing lap dances are not pretty. Not only is it not pretty, it is crowding everything else out.

I decide I need to address the elephant upfront. Nose to trunk, so to speak, because trying to tiptoe around all the dancing elephants is exhausting.

"You want to go, don't you?" I asked Caleb the next day.

We had just finished eating dinner out on his patio. He was just as good at cooking dinner as he was at breakfast. We had avoided the topic all day, and it was driving me nuts. 'Damn it,' I thought, 'I really am no good at pretending.' I am an address-the-topic-head-on person. Not talking about the subject that was flashing in my head like a neon sign was wearing me out.

It must have been in his thoughts all day too, because he didn't even pretend not to know what I was talking about.

"I promised you I'd never ask."

"I know. And I appreciate that. That's why I'm doing the asking."

He took a deep breath and asked, "Honestly?"

"Please. Honesty is our best quality. Good or bad, I can deal with anything honestly. It's the not knowing and wondering that confuses things. Making decisions without having all the facts is just guessing."

"I'm torn. I do want to go. But I know you are done. I knew that last night, by watching you. I know that if we went, you would be miserable. And I know that I wouldn't have any fun there if you were miserable. The fun has been in discovering these places with you. Experimenting with you. What I want is to go, with you. The you that enjoyed these places. The you that would jump into things with both feet, right beside me. I want to go with that you. And have a wonderful, free-spirited, light-hearted, sexy, fun and erotic night." He stopped me when I started to say something.

"But I know I can't have that." He continued. "I know that I have two choices. We can go together. I think you would go with me. I'm not totally sure, but I think you would. For my birthday, for me. But you would suffer, and that isn't what I want. And I wouldn't get into it or enjoy that place knowing you were suffering. Or we don't go. If we don't go, you wouldn't suffer, or have to try to like it. If I can't have what I really want, then not going is the best option. I can't see us both going, and both suffering. If you really want to be done with these clubs, I understand. You have chosen to stay in a relationship with me, knowing that you can't have everything you want- namely, a wedding and kids. I told you what I was capable of giving you, and you accepted that. At least for now. You are telling me that you can no longer give me a relationship that involves these clubs, and I have to accept that as well. At least for now."

I nodded my head in understanding. I only had one more question. "Knowing yourself, do you think that some day you will come to resent me?"

"How so?" He asked.

"Because I started this. I introduced you to this world, brought you on this ride with me. I know I am content to never go back. I don't know if you are. Do you think you will resent me for slamming the door on this life? For showing you what was behind the curtain, only to take it all away again?"

He thought for a long time before saying, "I can't answer that. Maybe, maybe not. Are you going to eventually resent me? When you wake up one day, years from now, without a man to call your husband? Without kids? I don't know. Life is a game of chances. We collect as much information as we can, and decide. No one knows. Not for sure. The best of intentions can still turn south once years have passed."

I mull this information over in my head for many minutes. On the surface, I should be thrilled. No misunderstandings this time. No more clubs. I should take it and run. But the facts nag at me. The fact is, he wants to go. He wants to see, and play, and do. I don't. The second fact is that he may end up resenting me. What he says is true, in life you gather the information that you can, and decide. My problem is that the missing information is large. If our relationship was compared to a jigsaw puzzle, the missing sections are huge and central. Can I be happy in the long run without kids? Maybe. Without a marraige? Probably. And can he be happy in the long run giving up this life? I don't know.