Patsy Ponce - The Open Affair

Logan seemed to swell even more, pulsing, throbbing like it was their first real time together—and Lindsay couldn’t hold back as she continued kissing him.

Logan forced himself in until it seemed he’d burst past the end of her. Her whole body tingled, his shaft riding through her orgasm intensifying the pleasure and pain of it all as their tongues continued meeting in sync with the crashing of their bodies.

Then Logan, so far inside, kept pulsing harder with short, strong strokes that stretched anything in his way. He was an animal, driven by nature and instinct, until his muscles tensed so that a fog overcame both of them as he rocked himself inside her, lifting her whole body up in his arms as she felt the warm liquid of his love fill her completely.

Logan gently placed Lindsay’s legs to his sides. “Oh, Linds.” He exhaled, his forehead now resting against hers.

The two hugged for the longest time. Both wrapped in memories of what had been and hopes for what could be. He lifted gently, then brought her to their bed where he cradled her with such tenderness. “I missed you,” he said. “I’ve missed you for years.”

“I missed you…so much. I forgot what this was like.”

Snuggling into him, Lindsay wished the moment could last forever, without problems and fights. It could just be the two of them, happy again for the first time in years.

“If you could be anywhere right now, where would you be?” she asked.

“Here.” He sighed. “You?”

“With you on a deserted island. Away from problems and other people. If it were just the two of us, I don’t think we’d ever have any problems…not really.”

He propped himself up on his elbow. “Can we have a special night?” he asked, nuzzling her neck. “Just the two of us?”

“Tonight?” she asked. “It’s already been special.”

“I want to take you out though—show you off.”

“Well, okay. Sure!”

He grinned, got up and put on a blue button-up shirt that complimented his tan skin. “I’m bringing you dancing.”

So, after cleaning herself up, Lindsay climbed into Logan’s truck and hoped the wonderful night would continue. If there was anything Lindsay missed in her life, it was how things used to be with Logan.

The night started out wonderfully. They’d gone to a dance club that served fancy drinks and played ragtime jazz. The two really knew how to dance and during their last round on the floor everyone stopped and just watched as their feet moved faster and faster. At one point, Logan spun Lindsay away from him and they stood nearly ten feet apart. The drums played alone, the beats building up to a section where the trumpets and pianist would come back in full-force. Lindsay and Logan’s feet pounded the ground in quick rhythms with the drums as they got closer and faster. Lindsay could hardly believe how in sync they were. And after they closed the gap—when their hands met—the trumpets flared back to life and several people in the crowd yelled and clapped. At the end of the song, they danced with their cheeks touching, leaning into one another as their feet moved wild with syncopations.

“What a rush!” Logan said breathlessly as they danced. “I forgot how good we are together!”

“Me too.” Lindsay grinned.

When the song ended, they simply walked from the dance floor and took their seats at the bar. The two drank and drank as many different people came to talk with them. Several men chatted with Lindsay, asking if her red hair was real or dyed. “Real,” she chirped.

“Then you really are some type of miracle,” a dark, handsome man said coyly.

Several women encircled Logan as well, asking if he could teach them how to dance. Then Lindsay and Logan seemed so far away from one another. One of the women quietly asked Logan if Lindsay was his wife.

“Oh, no. No. We aren’t married.”

Lindsay wasn’t meant to hear any of it, and she tried to shake it off; after all, Logan had been drinking and they’d recently been through so much. But, it still somehow stung, and when Logan finally called for a cab, she felt a wave of gratitude.

On the ride home, Logan raved about the girls who had talked with him. “I’ve been working so much; I’ve forgotten how much is out there at those dance clubs. And Linds, we were good! I mean, we are still really good at dancing together. I forgot how good.”

“So, did I,” she said.

“I go out with the guys, but the places aren’t like that. You and I need to go dancing more.”

The cab driver grinned at her in the rearview mirror, seeming happy from their excitement.

“Lindsay, there’s another thing. I’m probably only ready to tell you this because we’ve been drinking. But, I’ve thought a lot about the open relationship thing. I have to be honest.” He seemed so scared to say it. “It feels right to me.”

“So, you just want to be with whoever, whenever?” She was taken aback. Yes, she had been the one to bring it up before, but things seemed to have changed for her that night. He’d made love to her for the first time in a long time. And for that, he was all she needed.

“Well, we both could be with whoever,” he said.

At this, the cabdriver smiled even bigger at Lindsay, making her a bit sick.

“Are there better options?” she asked, and her eyes grew wide as she realized how hungrily the driver kept looking at her.

“You’re the one who brought this up? I figured you’d thought about this? Is there any way you’d be okay with it?”

She thought for a moment. “Maybe if it were once a year.” Lindsay sighed. “But just once a year.”

They got out of the cab and as Lindsay gave the driver some money, he refused to take the tip and instead gave her his number. “Once a year,” he said in a thick accent.

“Ummm. Thanks.”

After walking into the house, Logan sat down on the front couch they’d made together. Lindsay scooted by him as he held her hand. “I’ve been thinking about it, too,” he said. “Since we talked. It’s weird, but the thought is liberating. I’ve always wanted to have a threesome. And this is exciting. But we’d need to have rules, and no one can know we’re doing this.”

“Okay,” Lindsay whispered, trying to sort out her own emotions.

“We won’t use our real names. We could go out once a month for ‘alone time’ and if our ‘once in a year’ experience happens that’s our secret. We’ll never know which month it happened or who it happened with.”

“Okay…. I can do that.”

“One last rule,” Logan said. “No Thane.”

“Wait, no Thane?” Why was Thane suddenly part of this? Lindsay was surprised to realize she hadn’t thought of him at all that night—since the moment she’d seen Logan.

“Nope. You can’t get attached. And whether you want to say it out loud or not, I know how you feel about him. You’re in love with him.”

Lindsay, crestfallen, agreed to the terms: to a once-a-year fling (one day to be exact), to never seeing Thane again, and to attend counseling (both with Logan and by herself). But late that night, she thought of Thane again. If they’d been dating for years, would he ask her to marry him? Lindsay wondered if he could dance, and what it would be like making love to him. Would his kind eyes assess everyone in a bar if he’d brought her out dancing? Or would he only look at her?

Lindsay remembered Thane’s contagious laugh, and after Logan fell asleep, for some reason, Lindsay remained empty and alone.

She hoped to dream of someone who would love her enough to want to marry her. And after finally closing her eyes, she cried herself to sleep.

SEVEN

Lindsay sat next to Logan at the counselor’s office; the two had decided to see a professional if they really wanted to have a thriving relationship.