TITLE    : Ripples in a Cuckolds Pond Ch. 04
STORYID  : ripples-in-a-cuckolds-pond-ch-04
SUMMARY  : David and Nicole push for an open marriage.
AUTHOR   : JayCuck@lit
DATE     : 2015-12-12
CATEGORY : interracial-erotic-stories
FLAGS    : 
TAGS     : |hotwife|cuckold|bull|open marriage|interracial|


<em>I want to thank everyone who takes the time to read this series. I especially want to thank those of you who have emailed me and/or provided feedback. I really do appreciate it and I hope you enjoy this new direction.</em> 



<em>This series doesn't have as much sex as previous stories. The plot is becoming more complex and it's harder to work credible sex scenes into the storyline.</em> 



<em>Troll Alert (Trigger Warning - if you're so sensitive you need it): If you don't like cuckold/hotwife stories you won't like this one. Save your energy, righteous indignation, and ugly comments for another story.</em> 



***** 



Nicole held my hand throughout the movie. A small thing maybe, but it felt significant, and I hoped it was a sign we were reconnecting. Images flashed on the screen, coupled with explosions and a bunch of dialogue, but as we left the theatre, I couldn't remember a single thing. 



"Ice Cream?" 



Nicole suggested it and the group of girls that surrounded us all nodded eagerly. We piled into the SUV, which thankfully held everyone, and Jasmine and her friend claimed the back. Whispers and giggles wafted up from the back seat. 



Boys. 



I'm not sure if I felt more nervous about the developing situation with David, or my daughter dating. Both felt fraught with danger. 



Nicole's hand squeezed mine. "Penny for your thoughts." 



I sighed and motioned my head to the back seat. 



"Ahh," she replied. "It's okay. Jas doesn't have a boyfriend." 



"It's only a matter of time." 



"True." 



"I'm not ready." 



"No father ever is, honey," she whispered and put her arm on mine. 



"Maybe." My voice trailed off. 



"What's really on your mind?" 



"David," I whispered. 



My eyes were on the road, but I thought I saw tension slide through her body. Her hand came off mine, and she twisted in her seat until she faced forward. 



A second later, she crossed her arms over her chest. "What about him?" 



"Probably not the time or place, we can talk later." 



"Fine." 



I cursed and berated myself inwardly, because that single word meant boatloads of trouble. 



Fine. 



My wife had a temper, and I'd endured many a shouting fest, but nothing scared me so much as when she combined the word 'fine' with silence. 



The girls ordered iced-sugar, covered with toppings of sugar, and finally colorful little sprinkles of more sugar. I settled for coffee. No surprise, after the girls finished their expensive, but colorful cones of sugar, they asked if their friends could spend the night. 



Teenagers. 



Loads of sugar. 



Sleepover. 



Ever outnumbered, I acquiesced, and earned a pair of hugs that almost made up for the coming night. The girls disappeared upstairs, and I headed for our liquor cabinet. A glass of bourbon, cigar, and my own patio, a little slice of heaven in the suburbs. 



My ass settled into the chair, and I started to light my cigar. Cameroon wrapper, little spicy, and when I combined it with a glass of Balcones Single Barrel bourbon, it provided a level of relaxation I couldn't find elsewhere. 



With any luck, the smoke would repel my spouse. 



"Honey. Want some company?" 



<em>So much for luck!</em> 



"I'm smoking." 



"I can see that." 



I paused ever so slightly. "I'd love some company." 



"Liar," she shot back. "I'm coming out anyway." 



"Fine." 



I didn't wield that little weapon as well as Nicole, but I thought I'd try. She settled into the chair upwind of my cigar, a glass of wine in her hand. A long sigh blew out of her mouth, before she took a generous sip of her wine, and stared at me steadily over the rim of her glass. 



"David," she said calmly. 



"Yes, David." 



"What does he have to do with Jasmine dating?" 



Her question hung in the air, matched perfectly with the cigar smoke I'd just exhaled. I took a sip of bourbon, prolonging the moment, as I pondered my response. 



She'd hate it. 



"Jasmine just turned sixteen. She's going to be a junior, and between her school work, sports, and planning for college," I trailed off. 



"What's your point?" 



I met her eyes. "Maybe we should spend more time with our kids, Nicole. That's my point." 



"This isn't about Jasmine. Is it?" 



"They're related, Nikki." 



"I don't see how?" 



"Seriously?" I asked rhetorically. "Every minute you spend with David, is a minute you're not spending with Jasmine, April, or myself." I shook my head. "Y'know, that family you claim to care about." 



"You're just jealous," she said, shaking her own head and sipping her wine. "David intimidates you, and you're scared the direction he'd like to take us. It's okay to be afraid, but honey, you shouldn't use the kids as an excuse." 



A deep, cleansing breath cleared my mind and soothed my rapidly diminishing patience. 



<em>What we have here is a failure to communicate!</em> 



"I'm not afraid." I sat up, and laid my bourbon and cigar on the table. Our eyes met, and I held my wife's gaze. "David's plans make me uncomfortable, but I'm willing to discuss them. I'm worried that our." I paused and motioned between us. "Extracurricular activities will get in the way of being parents." 



"Give it a rest," she said and rolled her eyes. "I'm the stay-at-home parent. I get the girls ready for school." She pointed at her chest. "I'm the one who picks them up from school, meets with their teachers, takes them to their games, and checks their grades." 



"Nikki-." 



"I'm the one Jasmine confides in about boys," she interrupted. "If anyone should be concerned about being a parent, it's you!" 



"You don't work," I snapped. "And that's okay, but I have to, and that's the agreement we made when you quit. If you're concerned about how much I work, then get a fucking job, and I'll cut back." 



"Look!" She held up her hands. "I'm just saying our girls have attentive parents. That's it. I'm not insinuating you're a bad dad." 



"Damn right." 



"My point is we've been indulging this lifestyle for the last few years and our kids haven't suffered. Not one little bit. If anything, we've grown closer since I stopped working, and you opened the business with Collin." She took another sip of her wine and studied me over the rim of her glass. "We have room for David. I just wish you'd stop looking for reasons to exclude him from our lives." 



"Nikki," I sighed. 



"If you're worried about the amount of time you spend with the girls, don't get involved with Cassidy." 



She slid that knife between my ribs with surgical precision. How this argument came back to me, I wasn't sure, but I couldn't think of a comeback. Bitterness flooded my mouth, and I washed it away with bourbon. 



<em>Fuck!</em> 



Silence settled over the table, and an expression of composed victory grew on my wife's face. I could argue some more, deflect her points, and use our kids as a shield, but I knew we'd end up in the same place. She had an unassailable advantage in being a stay-at-home mom, an arrangement we'd both wanted, and I didn't want to change. 



"I love you." She stood, kissed my cheek, and ran her fingers through my hair. "I'd love to be intimate with you tonight. Why don't you call David, get his approval for sex, and I'll rock your world." 



"I don't think so," I replied. 



"Then wear your CB and we can snuggle." She bit my ear. "I'll sleep naked." 



"I'll think about it," I deferred. 



Time passed. I puffed on my cigar and sipped my bourbon. I wanted to sleep with my wife. Hell, I wanted to fuck my wife, but calling David felt too much like surrender. I felt the same about the chastity belt. Maybe if I hadn't spent time with Cassidy, I would have felt differently. 



I don't know. 



Cassidy. A smile grew on my face as her name wafted through my brain. Smart, funny, classy, all of the things I found attractive in a woman. Gorgeous and sexy were obvious, that's what everyone saw. She'd shown me there was more to her than a pretty face. She possessed an intelligent mind, a strong will, and a beautiful heart. 



No. I wasn't calling David. I wasn't wearing a chastity belt. 



I started to think I'd worn the Cuckold Husband title long enough. It wasn't one I'd sought anyway. My phone buzzed. I checked and cursed under my breath. Playing golf with David tomorrow wasn't how I wanted to spend my day. 



I went inside, filled my glass with ice, and brought the bottle of bourbon out to the patio. 



<em>Time to get my drunk on!</em> 



* * * 



My mustang slid into the parking spot next to David's Jaguar, and I willed my eyes to be less blood shot. The pounding in my head had lessened enough that I could function, but it still felt like marching band playing off-key between my ears. David was waiting for me inside, a smile on his face, and a twinkle in his eyes. 



"Glad you could make it," he said lightly. 



"Traffic." 



"Right." He motioned with his head. "C'mon. We're all set." 



After we got our clubs squared away, he slid behind the driver's seat and took off. A momentary wave of nausea tilted my body, but I sucked in enough air to keep from puking. 



"How about I hit first?" 



"Sure," I replied, and leaned on my club. 



<em>Don't fall over! Don't fall over! Focus!</em> 



David hit a respectable drive. His ball sailed a little over 200 yards, and came to rest on the right side of the fairway. On a par five first hole, it was a good shot to start the day. 



I stuck my tee and ball into the turf, and stepped back to line up my drive. It was at that point I realized I wasn't holding my driver. 



Yep. I was that hungover. 



I'd grabbed my five wood out of my bag. Unwilling to suffer the embarrassment of trudging back for the right club, I decided to roll with it. 



"Interesting choice of club," he observed. 



My smile held more confidence than I felt. "I'm surgical with this one." 



"Uh huh." 



My trusty five wood in hand, I stepped up and swung. 



Slice! Squarely in the rough. 



The reason it's called golf, is that "SHIT" was already taken. 



"Surgical huh?" 



"Got something in my eye," I lied. 



"Yeah, that can be a bitch." 



We drove down to the last place we'd seen my ball, and fortunately it wasn't too bad. Swing two was better. I got out of the rough, and back onto the fairway. A long pitch shot to the green, and maybe I'd salvage par. 



"So," David said as we approached the green. "Nicole told me you saw my artwork." 



"Not sure how I feel about tattoos." 



"It's just an idea." 



We pulled our putters out of our bags, and walked up to the green. 



"Big step though." I shrugged and lined up my shot. "Fuck!" 



My putt fell well short of the hole. He nodded for me to continue, and I finished the whole with a bogie. David lined up his putt, and drained it. First hole down and I was two strokes behind. My head hurt, I felt nauseous, but I was damn sure not going to lose. I slid back into the cart and he drove to the next hole. 



"Have you ever heard the phrase 'Topping from the Bottom'?" 



"No," I replied and shook my head. 



"It has a lot of meanings, but essentially it describes a situation where a submissive tries to control the situation, control the dominant, through their behavior." He stopped at the next hole. "Think of it as a passive-aggressive way of trying to maintain control of a situation." 



"I thought submissives were supposed to communicate. Isn't that their responsibility? Too let the dominant know their limits." 



"Oh, absolutely," he said. "The challenge comes into play when the submissive still tries to maintain control, even though the dominant is well within the agreed upon limits. If the submissive never releases control, they're not really a submissive, and they're just wasting everyone's time." 



"I see." 



We grabbed our clubs, and I pulled my driver out this time. My hangover still held sway over my body, but anger and my competitive spirit were fighting back. 



"Is that what you think I'm doing? Topping from the bottom?" 



"Yes." 



I smacked a beautiful drive, great distance, center of the fairway, and nicely setup for my next shot. 



<em>I'm back!</em> 



He let out a low whistle. "Nice shot!" 



"Thanks." 



His drive was good, but only good, and I felt confident I'd win this hole. We climbed back into the cart. 



"In my opinion, I'm living well within the limits we discussed. I'm respectful of your family. You and I speak regularly. Nicole is happy." He paused and glanced at me. "You set the terms and Nicole and I are abiding by them." 



"But?" 



"But you seem to want to control everything. How often we see each other. How much time we spend together. Where we go, etc. It's frustrating for me, it's hard on your wife, and I have to believe it's tough on you as well." 



"I told you when we started; I'm not a wimp or a pushover. I won't just agree to everything." 



"I think you're missing the point," he said. 



"Enlighten me." 



"Cuckold husbands are servants, not masters. It's not their place to agree or disagree. Their role is to support the relationship between the dominant and their wife. Once all of us agree we're going to start this relationship, it's the responsibility of the cuckold husband to facilitate it." 



"What about communication?" 



"Aren't we communicating? Haven't we been communicating?" 



"Yeah, but-." 



"That won't stop and if you have a concern, you can always bring it to me. The communication that happens between you and me though, is separate from how you behave as a cuckold husband." His eyes met mine. "Are you serious about this lifestyle or not?" 



"I thought I was," I replied weakly. "Now I'm not sure." 



"Yeah," he said with a nod. "That's what I thought. You can't do this half-way, buddy. You can't be a little bit pregnant, either you are or you're not." 



<em>I'm way too hungover for this conversation.</em> 



"Let's finish the hole," I suggested. 



"Sure." 



We traded places on this hole, with me scoring a birdie, and David 2 putting for a bogie. The start of the third hole greeted us with even scores. 



"What going on with Cassidy?" David had a small smile as he pulled out his driver. "She seems like a handful." 



"Hard to say," I hedged. 



"She seems pretty serious about you." 



"Hang on a second." 



I swung and nailed another beautiful drive down the fairway. Fresh air, a little competition, and I was starting to feel a lot better. 



"Nice drive." 



"Thanks," I replied and then stepped back. "The thing with Cassidy is...complicated." 



"Yeah," he said with a chuckle. "Nicole isn't easy to figure either." 



I gave him a half-hearted nod. His drive was good, solid, right down the middle, and only a few feet behind mine. Easily his best drive so far. 



"Good one." 



"Thanks. Probably won't hit another like that all day." 



"Uh huh." My bullshit meter registered a small earthquake. 



"Nicole has mixed feelings about Cassidy," he said quietly. "Just thought you should know." 



"I figured as much," I said and waited a second before I added. "I have mixed feelings about Nicole getting tattoo's." 



He snorted. "I figured as much." 



We drove in silence. Our next shots were good, mine a little better, but now by much and we go back into the golf cart. 



"What do you want?" David asked the question as the cart came to a stop at the green. "You're obviously not sure about being a cuckold. You don't know where your relationship is going with Cassidy. You won't let Nicole and I have the kind of relationship we both want." He paused and took a breath. "Do you even know what it is that you want?" 



"I know I love my wife. I know I'm not comfortable with her, or me, becoming black owned." I used my fingers to put quotation marks around the last two words. 



"Is that really your decision? It's Nicole's body we're discussing; shouldn't she get the final say?" 



"It is her body, and yes, it's her decision, but you asked me." 



"True, but you still haven't answered my question." He paused. "What do you want?" 



"I don't know," I snapped. "You want more from us than Collin, and I don't know how to handle it. Cassidy wants...well like I said, she's complicated. I want to preserve my marriage, and keep everyone happy, but that doesn't look possible." 



I hesitated, searching for the right words, before I finally gave up. 



"I don't know," I repeated with a shrug. "I just don't know." 



"Mind if I offer a suggestion?" 



"What?" My tone was harsh, but he didn't rise to it. 



"Open marriage." 



"What?" 



"Open your marriage," he said gently. "Forget the cuckold husband stuff. Allow Nicole and I to have our relationship. You and Cassidy find out what's going on between you. You and Nicole will stay married obviously, but you'll just allow each other the freedom to have separate relationships." 



"I don't know," I began. 



Truthfully, his suggestion sounded good. It sounded perfect. It was easy, slick and it would work immediately. 



<em>Too easy.</em> 



There are no silver bullets in life. Worthwhile solutions rarely come packaged with a bow, and David's suggestion sounded entirely too easy. 



<em>Here son, drink this potion. It'll cure whatever ails you.</em> 



"Let's finish this hole," he suggested. 



We finished the third hole tied up. David sunk a putt that was much harder than the last hole, and once again, I wondered if he was sandbagging me. 



"My suggestion makes sense, Nick, and you know it." 



"Maybe." 



"Maybe?" 



"C'mon, David, I was born at night, but it wasn't last night. Your suggestion is perfect for pulling Nicole and I apart." I turned in my seat and faced him. "I can see it now. First, it's one night during the week, then it's two, then it's a weekend, and soon Nicole is spending more time with you than she does with me." 



"If you were worried about losing Nicole, you shouldn't have started this relationship in the first place," he replied steadily. 



"Nicole-." 



"Wanted it," he finished. "I know. I knew that from the beginning. But you like the lifestyle too, and it can still work, we just need to make a few adjustments. An open marriage between you and Nicole makes perfect sense." 



"I don't think she'd go for it," I hesitated. 



"She will. We've already discussed it." 



"Why didn't she say anything?" 



"I told her you and I needed to discuss it." He smiled. "Mano y mano. Communication, remember?" 



"Fuck," I said with a shake of my head. "Why do I feel manipulated?" 



"You're not," he said firmly. "It's just that myself, Nicole, and even Cassidy can't do anything until you make some decisions." 



A part of me wanted to be angry. 



Another part wanted to be relieved. 



I wasn't sure how to feel. 



David's suggestion seemed both a solution and a self-serving attempt to steal Nicole. At the same time however, I wanted the freedom to see Cassidy, and I suspected she'd jump at his suggestion. Ending the cuckold husband gig sounded great as well. It was exciting, but I'd started to wonder if it hadn't run it's course. 



Agreeing felt like surrender. It felt wrong. 



"I'll think about it," I promised. "I want to talk to Nicole about it some more as well." 



"Fair enough," he said, and then motioned at the tee box. "Feeling up for a little wager?" 



Our eyes met and I felt a sly smile slide over my lips. 



"How much do you want to lose?" 



"Not money," he said with a dismissive wave. "I never bet money." 



"Oh yeah? Why?" 



"It's not as valuable as most people think." 



"Okay," I said slowly. "What are the stakes?" 



"Time." 



"What?" I asked around a laugh. 



"Thirty days," he clarified. "Thirty days of an open marriage. Then all of us, you, me, Nicole and Cassidy will meet to talk it over." A carnivorous smile grew on his face. "I'm thinking we spend a weekend in Vegas." 



"So," I paused and considered the stakes. "If you win, I agree to open my marriage for thirty days." 

<hr pg="2" />"Completely open," he clarified. "Nicole and I are free to make our decisions about what we do, when we do it, and where we do it. We'll check in with you obviously, and we won't make any plans that conflict with your children's lives, but aside from those conditions, you agree to a fully embrace an open marriage for thirty days." 



"And if I win?" 



"I'll step out of your lives for thirty days. No contact. No dates. No calls or emails. You and Nicole will have time to reconnect and decide if you want to pursue this lifestyle any further. It'll give you both time to discuss Cassidy as well." 



Time. That was the wager. 



We drove to the next hole in silence. His hand fell on my arm as I started to climb out of the golf cart. 



"And a bottle of whiskey," he said. "Anything you can find in San Antonio." 



I eyed him for a long moment. "You really want me to take this bet, don't you?" 



"Maybe." 



"Fine," I accepted and held out my hand. "It's a bet." 



A wide smile broke out of his face and he shook my hand firmly. "It's a bet," he repeated. 



"Thanks for the whiskey," I added. 



"Thanks for the time," he shot back. 



I know what you're thinking. I'd been drawn into this bet. Goaded and baited into accepting it. David's upside was better than mine. Thirty days was too much time to practice an open marriage, and with Nicole already on board, I'd lose her to David. 



All of those objections were true. All had merit. 



I dismissed them. 



First, I didn't think I'd lose. Sure, I suspected he'd been sandbagging me on his play, but that didn't make him a better golfer than me. Second, I had faith in my marriage and my wife. Finally, thirty days was more than enough time for me to convince Nicole to quit this lifestyle...even if it meant giving up Cassidy. 



Losing wasn't an option. 



David's next drive split the fairway and his ball came to rest over two hundred and fifty yards away. A par five hole, he'd positioned himself extremely well. A guilty, pleased smile grew on his face as he stepped back and he shrugged indifferently. 



"Nice drive," I added. My voice as dry as the desert. 



"Not my best, but I'll take it." 



My drive launched off the face of my club. It sailed straight and true over the manicured emerald ocean. A perfect drive! I stood motionless, enjoying the moment, as my ball bounced down the fairway. 



<em>Just 'cause you're good, doesn't mean the other guy isn't better.</em> 



My ball came to rest a few feet farther than David's. I threw a confident wink at him as I stepped towards the cart. His smile now appeared forced and fragile. 



A sense of tense competition settled over us. 



We both felt it. We both accepted it. 



No swords or shields, but combat nonetheless. 



Golf clubs had replaced matched pistols. A putting green had replaced ten paces. Times had changed, but men had not, and we squared off on the modern day battlefield. 



Only one would emerge a victor. 



A touch dramatic maybe, but you gotta do what you gotta do to get psyched up. 



Guys...back me up here. 



David and I had spent the first couple of holes dividing our time between golf and conversation. After we agreed on a wager, conversation died a quick death. We passed a few mild compliments back and forth, but otherwise we both focused on beating the other. 



What sucked the most? 



We were evenly matched. 



I'll spare you the play by play, and sum it up. We stayed tied until the last hole. Stroke for stroke, our white bullets were never more than a few yards from each other. 



That held true through our drives on the eighteenth hole. We split the fairway on a short par four. A challenging hole, sand traps dotted both sides of the fairway, and ringed the green. A water hazard sat alongside the approach, and even though the wind was calm, any drift in your shot would result in your ball going swimming. 



Finishing this hole with par was a success. 



I pulled my five wood out. Despite my first shot, it was my most forgiving wood in my bag. I picked a spot just left of the sand traps and well away from the water to place my second shot. 



Confidence, even arrogance, welled up inside as my shot landed exactly where I'd planned. A great approach shot, and I'd birdie the hole. An eagle was a possibility, but I wasn't ready to be that aggressive. 



I dropped my club in my bag and waited by the cart. Cautious to stay quiet and out of his sightline, I didn't want to hand him any excuses when we discussed his loss in the clubhouse. 



My eyes landed on his clubs. Calloway. Brand new clubs. His driver and woods were customizable with little weighted screws. His three wood was missing, so I figured that was what he was swinging. 



I'd seen him tinkering with them as we played, but I dismissed that feature as a gimmick. My own clubs were Taylor Made's and while they were a few years old, I loved them. 



David swung, grunted with the effort, and unloaded on his ball. Power shot. This hole didn't tolerate power shots well, because they tended to be wild, and this hole punished the hell out of wild shots. 



My mouth dropped open. 



His shot sailed past the sand traps, past my conservative shot, and rolled to a beautiful spot on the fairway. He'd even avoided the water! 



Fuck! 



A huge exhale pushed out of his body, and I saw him visibly relax. He'd bet heavy and won. 



I shook my head. "You fucking suck!" 



He chuckled and pumped his fist in a classic Tiger Woods fist pump. "Yeah, baby!" 



"Still a lotta golf to play," I said half-heartedly. 



"Let's go then." 



We drove up to my ball, and I hit a great second shot that ended with my ball on the green, a short put between victory and me. 



We drove to David's hole and he pulled out and iron. I pushed back an urge to cough loudly, fart, or do anything to break his concentration. I didn't want to win, or lose, that way. 



His shot looked great. It left the club on a high trajectory, and with no wind, I knew it would land close to the green. 



I was right. 



His ball landed a few yards short of the green. 



I was also wrong. 



Disbelief and horror flooded my body as his ball released and rolled forward. A good shot off his club, it revealed itself as a great shot when it rolled onto the green. 



My nightmare continued. 



The ball continued rolling. 



And stopped...right on the edge of hole. 



My head dropped until my chin impacted my chest. 



I heard him drop his club in his bag. I lifted my head and held out my hand. 



"Great shot." 



"Thanks." 



I slipped behind the wheel and drove to my ball. David checked his phone while I lined up my shot. My third swing, I needed to sink this put in order to stay even. My heart thudded in my chest, and I swallowed several times. 



<em>You've been here before</em>, I reminded myself. <em>Slightly uphill, green tilts to the right, nice and easy.</em> 



My club connected and my little white hope rolled towards the hole...towards a tie with David. 



Tension slid into my body. 



Closer. 



The ball slid towards the hole, tracking perfectly. My heart stopped. 



I quit breathing. 



David sat forward in the golf cart, his body as tense as mine. 



Six inches. Four inches. 



David's whoop announced the ball's position. 



A final nail in my golf-coffin. 



The ball stopped barely half an inch from sinking. 



Fair and square, I'd lost. 



I'd lost! 



I leaned on my putter and stared at the little round bastard. Always friendly before, it had picked the wrong-fucking-time to betray me. 



A hand landed on my shoulder and I turned to see David's unsmiling face. No gloating, no arrogance, just a guy who knew how bad it felt to lose a fair contest. 



"Tough break," he said. "Do I need to knock mine in? 



"No," I said. "Great game." 



He offered his hand and I shook it. David completed the hole in three shots, and I needed four. 



He won. 



"Still okay with our wager?" 



I took a breath. "Yes. Fair wager, fairly won." 



"Ready to head back? I'll buy the first round." 



"Definitely. I need a stiff drink." 



He chuckled. "Speaking of a stiff drink, what whiskey was I going to buy you, if you'd won?" 



I laughed and shook my head. Winning felt so far away now. 



"There's a fifty year old Yamazaki that I've had my eye on. It runs about twelve grand." 



"Ouch!" 



"Yeah, that's why I haven't bought it." 



"Well, let's see if the bar has it in stock," he joked. 



We settled into the golf cart with David behind the wheel. 



"Fuck, I hate to lose." 



"You and me both," he replied. 



"Thirty days?" I asked. 



"Yes. We end the last few days in Vegas." 



"Right." 



The attendants took care of our clubs, and we headed towards the bar. David hadn't stopped smiling the entire trip back to the clubhouse. I couldn't fault him for it, but I didn't like it either. 



He won. I lost. 



It didn't make us friends. 



I didn't see Nicole until she'd wrapped David in a tight hug. She jumped and locked her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. He chuckled and held her tightly. 



"Congratulations, baby," she exclaimed. 



"Thanks." 



"My hero," she said, right before she pressed her lips against his. 



I continued trudging towards the bar, unwilling to stay and watch my wife mouth-fuck her boyfriend. I'd been invisible to her anyway, so what was the point of sticking around? 



The bartender nodded at me. "What can I get you?" 



"Eagle rare on the rocks," I replied and ran a hand over my face. Nicole and David were all smiles and walking my way holding hands. I glanced the bartender. "Make it a double, please." 



"Hi, Nick." 



"Nicole." 



"I heard about your match," she continued, oblivious to my mood. "Tough loss." 



"Yeah. The girls-." 



"Are fine," she replied dismissively, and then caught the bartender's eyes. "I'd like a margarita, on the rocks, no salt." 



"Old Fashioned for me," David added. 



We smiled at each other, unsure what to say next, until the Bartender delivered our drinks. Mine had been the easiest to make, so it slid across the bar first. I didn't bother waiting, I took a generous swallow, and looked out the window. 



"Where do you want to stay in Vegas?" 



Nicole was asking David, not me, but I listened politely. I debated downing this glass of whiskey and starting another one, but decided I wanted to drive myself home. I'd no doubt Nicole would love me to show more weakness in front of David, and I wasn't in the mood to give her the satisfaction...or David. 



"We'll be staying at the Cosmopolitan," he replied. 



The way he said it made it obvious that he meant himself and Nicole. It was going to be a long thirty days. At least for me, I had the suspicion it would pass quickly for my wife. 



Speaking of my wife, she'd obviously chosen her outfit to please her boyfriend. The tank top she wore showed generous amounts of cleavage, and her bra had to be sheer, because her nipples were plainly visible. 



If she even wore a bra. Anything was possible. 



Her painted-on shorts hugged her ass nicely. Jealousy reared it's head, because she'd never dressed like that for me. 



Ever. 



When she turned to get her drink, I saw the tattoo David had drawn on her shoulder. The spade symbol prominently displayed for anyone within seeing distance. 



Our eyes met. She knew what I'd seen, and her smile clearly conveyed that she didn't care about my opinion. If anything, she proudly displayed that drawing. 



Queen of Spades. An all-too-visible symbol of her sexual preference for black men. I wondered if she'd actually commit to making it a permanent tattoo. Based on her behavior so far, it looked like she couldn't wait. 



It turned me on. 



I'd like to lie and say it made me angry. Sure, I was angry, but truthfully, it turned me on as well. David brought something out of my wife, a sexual awakening of sorts, and her future tattoo was a symbol of that awakening. Whether she meant it or not, that drawing also marked me as a cuckold husband. 



"I've never heard of that hotel. Is it nice?" 



He nodded and gave her a reassuring smile. "Damn right. It's fairly new and very luxurious. It's next door to the Bellagio and centrally placed on the strip." 



"Sounds nice." 



"Wait'll you see our suite." 



"Hmmmm, you treat me so well, baby." 



"Always," he murmured, right before he kissed her...again. 



I'd seen enough. They were just pouring salt into my wound. I downed the last of my whiskey and put my glass on the bar. 



"Well," I began and pushed away from the bar. "It was a good round, but I have to be going-." 



"Nick!" 



Cassidy's voice reached me before I could finish, and all of us turned in her direction. My eyes flickered towards Nicole and she gave me wink. 



"I called her." 



"You did? Did you and her have a chance to talk?" 



"Not really. When David." She bumped him with her hip. "Told me the outcome, I suspected you'd be depressed. I thought Cassidy might cheer you up." 



"Ahhh. Open marriage." 



She nodded. "Open marriage. Maybe it won't be so bad." 



"We'll see," I replied and smiled at Cassidy as she walked up. 



"There you are," she said and kissed my cheek. 



My arm slid around her waist and she leaned against me. "Here I am." 



"Thank you, Nikki," she said and offered her hand to my wife. "I appreciate the call." 



"You're welcome. Good luck with this one." She motioned at me. 



"I'll cheer him up," she said confidently. 



"Will you be joining us in Las Vegas?" David asked and pulled Nicole closer to him. 



"Ummm," she said and glanced at me. 



"Yes," I replied for her. "She'll be joining us, but we may stay at another hotel." 



"Fantastic," David replied. 



"That's great," Nicole said as well. 



"It'll be fun," Cassidy said and squeezed my hand. "Are you ready?" 



"Yes." 



I shook hands with David and smiled at my wife. Her smile was cool and dispassionate; the kind of smile offered to a stranger. 



"I'll see you later," Nicole said as I walked away. 



"Sounds good." 



* * * 



"Take me to my apartment and make love to me," Cassidy whispered as soon as we exited the building. "I need you." 



The vestiges of a hangover still clung to me. I was also feeling the whiskey I'd just chugged. My wife treated me like a stranger. I'd lost a round of golf that could cost me my marriage, and now a gorgeous young woman wanted to fuck my brains out. 



I felt dizzy. 



My new girlfriend pressed her lips against my ear. "Please." 



We took my car. 



I'd just pulled onto the highway, when she took off her shirt. An inviting smile slid across her lips, and she unclipped her bra. Her shorts were next, followed by her thong panties, and then she kicked off her sandals. 



"Uhhh." 



"Sorry. I don't want to waste a minute." 



She reached over, plucked my hand off the steering wheel, and then thrust it between her legs. My fingers met her wet slippery flesh and I massaged her clit. She moaned and shivered in her seat. 



"I missed you," she breathed. "Missed you so much." 



My attention flickered back and forth from her gorgeous naked body to the highway. We passed a semi-truck and a couple of loud honks followed us. I wasn't sure if he was honking at my car, or the naked body in the passenger seat. I increased my speed. The last thing we needed was a convoy of truckers following us. 



Fortunately, she didn't live far. We pulled into her apartment complex less than ten minutes after leaving the golf course. She winked at me, and then held up her keys. 



"Race ya!" 



"Cassidy, wha-." 



Stark naked and obviously horny, she darted out of my car. Laughter exploded out of me as I watched my new girlfriend sprint up to her apartment and disappear inside. I took a minute to gather her clothes, before following her. 



"Get in here!" 



She pulled me inside, pushed her clothes out of my hands, and started on my belt. We stumbled and laughed our way into her bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes in our wake. 



Lost in the moment, unaware of anything beyond our own needs, I felt my back hit the mattress. She mounted me and I slipped inside with little resistance. So wet and ready, her body shuddered with orgasmic waves almost immediately. Her head snapped back, and she moaned with abandon. 



The heat between us felt scalding. 



Cassidy bounced and swiveled her hips, the scent of sex filled the air and another orgasm ripped through her. Unlike my wife, I fit tightly inside her, and I bit my tongue in a vain effort to prolong our sex. I sat up and nibbled on her nipples, enjoying the light scent of her body lotion and the softness of her flesh. 



Her fingers gripped my hair, and she pulled my head back. She pressed her lips against mine and thrust her tongue inside my mouth. Her frantic passion was infectious and I felt myself rushing towards an orgasm. She sensed it as well, and increased her pace. 



"Fuck!" I gasped. 



A sweet, delicious eruption spewed forth. My own moan was lost to Cassidy's kiss, as she fell forward and pressed her lips and body against mine. Her body trembled against me and I suspected she came once more, orgasming with me. 



A light sheen of sweat covered our bodies. We lay together, enjoying the afterglow of amazing sex, and the intimacy of the moment. Both of us had been too excited for the sex to last beyond a few minutes, but I felt certain more sex lurked in our future. 



"Missed you," she whispered. 



"Missed you too." 



A second later, she disappeared into the restroom, leaving me to recover. My eyes lingered on her ceiling as I tried to make sense of my situation. 



I failed miserably. 



The buzzing of my phone brought me out of my head, and I fished through my shorts. A missed call from Jasmine. 



"Hey, honey," I said when she answered. "What's up?" 



"Dad, can I go to the mall with Emily?" 



"Ummm, sure. Just the two of you?" 



"Yep, but we need a ride. I called mom, but she didn't answer." 



"Okay kiddo," I checked my watch. "I should be home in about fifteen minutes." 



"Cool. Thanks, dad. You're the best." 



"See you soon." 



I ended the call and saw Cassidy smiling at me. "Jasmine wants to go to the mall." 



"You're a great father," she said. 



"Jury's still out, I think, but I'm doing my best." 



"I see that," she said and kissed me. "It's okay, go take care of your girls." 



I nodded and started to get dressed. Cassidy slipped on her underwear and a tank top that showed off her stomach. I stopped and stared. 



Wow. Just...wow. I wasn't ready to leave her. 



"Why don't you come with me?" 



"What?" 



"Come with me?" 



"I don't understand," she said. 



"I'll drop you off at your car, and you can meet me at the mall. Jasmine wants to spend time with her friends, so I'm going to be all by myself." I paused. "I'll buy you a coffee and we can spend some time together." 



A happy smile grew on her face as I spoke. When I finished she kissed me again. "I'd love too." 



"Great." 



Cassidy had met my girls a few times, so I wouldn't be surprising my daughter if she saw us together. They got along pretty well too. Jasmine had recently turned sixteen, and Cassidy was only a decade older, so they seemed to click. 



I watched my girlfriend dress with mixed emotions. I didn't want her to get dressed. She looked too good naked. I definitely wanted to spend more time with her though, and a relaxing afternoon at the mall sounded fun. 



"I'm ready," she declared after changing. 



I smiled at her. "Let's go." 



* * * 



"Say cheese," I said. 



"Dad, please. This is embarrassing." 



I snapped the picture of two teenage girls gritting their teeth. "Perfect." 



"Can we go now?" 



"You have money?" 



Jasmine rolled her eyes. "Yes." 



"Normal rules apply, Jas." 



"'Kay, bye." 



I watched my oldest daughter and her friend walk away. Jasmine was growing up too fast. It was depressing. April was out with her grandparents for the day. Nicole had arranged it, so I headed towards Barnes and Noble. 

<hr pg="3" />Cassidy had already arrived. "Hey." 



"Hey, yourself." 



She hugged me. "Can I kiss you?" 



"Yep." 



It was a nice kiss. 



"Where's April." 



"Uhhh, the plan was to start at Nordstrom's and then hit every single store in the mall." I smiled victoriously. "She has to show me anything she buys." 



"Ahhh. So no Victoria's Secret." 



"Nope!" 



She laughed, shook her head, and then took a sip of her coffee. I motioned at her cup. 



"I'll be right back." 



"Bring us back something to share," she said quickly. "I'm hungry." 



The Starbucks was inside a Barnes and Noble, and for a Sunday afternoon, it was quiet. I returned with my coffee and two slices of Banana Nut Loaf, which is a favorite of mine. 



"So," she said as I sat down. "What do you want to talk about?" 



"How about we start with golf?" 



"Okay, golf." She cocked her head at me. "You lost." 



"Not quite," I replied and then hurried to clarify. "I did lose the game, but I also lost a bet." 



"Ooooooh, the plot thickens. What did you bet?" 



"Time. I wagered thirty days with David." 



"Quit being dramatic," she said and pulled away a piece of banana nut loaf. "Just tell me what's changed." 



"Fine," I said as the banana bread disappeared inside her mouth. I resisted the urge to lean across the table and kiss her. It wasn't easy. 



"David and I bet over the next thirty days. He won obviously, so Nicole and I are going to have an open marriage for the next month." 



A slow smile grew on her face, and I decided to continue. 



"Which means you and I can see each other whenever our schedules synch up." I paused. "If you still want to see me." 



"I don't," she deadpanned. "I'm completely sick of your old ass." 



"Yeah, I could tell by the way you attacked me." 



"I want to see you." Her hands reached across the table and slid around mine. She squeezed them gently and met my eyes. "As often as possible." 



"I'm glad," I replied. "I feel the same." 



An excited, but awkward silence fell between us. Excitement beamed from her eyes, and I felt it as well, but I knew this wasn't going to be easy. So much remained unsaid. 



"You're worried aren't you?" 



I nodded. "Of course." 



"Let me guess," she winked at me. "You're worried about your kids. You're worried about your marriage, your job, and my job." She tilted her head back and forth, as she listed each item. "Your suspicious of David and Cynthia, and you're scared I'll get hurt, but most of all," she paused and squeezed my hand again. "You're worried you'll fall in love with me." 



"Am I that transparent?" 



"Yes." 



"I guess I'll have to work on becoming more mysterious." 



She snorted. "Good luck with that. You over-think everything, Nick." 



"Maybe." 



"Listen," she emphasized and waited until I met her eyes. "I'm a big girl. You're married, you love your wife, and you have great kids. I know what I'm getting into, so quit worrying about me." 



"And Nicole? David?" 



She shook her head. "I can't help you there, and you can't control the actions of others." 



"How'd you get so smart?" 



"I'm an old soul," she shot back. 



"Alright, alright, I know when I'm beaten," I sat back and took a sip of coffee. 



"Get used to it, mister." 



We shared a laugh. It felt great, nice, easy, and my tension dissipated. I glanced around, and then leaned forward. She matched me and our faces were only inches apart. 



"So you wanna do this? See each other?" 



"I've already said yes." 



"I'm not sure I can promise you-." 



"Shut up," she interrupted. "I'm not asking for promises, and I won't make any demands. Let's just see where it goes." 



"Fine." 



"Can I call you, sweetie?" 



"No." 



"Baby? Honey? Stud?" 



"Stud," I said and rolled my eyes. "Stud is good." 



Her response was to press her lips against mine. Our kiss was nice, soft, and full of promise. I made a mental note to find out what perfume, or lotion, or whatever she wore, because it smelled amazing. 



"I have some questions," she said as we parted. 



"Fire away." 



"Our relationship," she motioned between us. "It's just us?" 



"Ummm, yes. Why? Did you want something else?" 



"No," she said quickly. "That's perfect. I just wasn't sure if you wanted too..." She trailed off. 



"Too?" 



Her voice dropped to barely above a whisper. "To watch me with someone else?" 



My mouth dropped open, and my heart kicked into overdrive. She put her hand on my arm. "It's okay, Nick. I don't mind, I just want to make sure I know what you want." 



<em>Fuck! Shit just got awkward.</em> 



"No," I whispered and met her eyes. "No. I don't want to share you. I don't want to do that...not with you. Truthfully, I'm not sure I want to do it anymore with anyone." 



"Good," she breathed with obvious relief. "I don't want to be with another man. I'd do it for you, but I'd rather spend my time with you. Just us." 



"I'm glad," I replied. 



"Another woman, on the other hand," she continued with a wink. "I'm open to that, but not right away. I want you all too myself." 



"Uhhhh, let's put that idea on a shelf for another time." 



"Fair enough." 



"Wow," I said and shook my head. "We're covering some ground." 



"I know, right." 



"Any more questions?" 



"Will you spend the night with me?" 



"Tonight?" 



She shrugged. "Tonight, tomorrow, whenever you can. I want to wake up next to you." 



I smiled. "Probably not tonight, but I'll speak with Nicole. We'll need to coordinate our schedules." 



"Great. I'll make room for you." 



"Don't put yourself out," I objected. 



"Nonsense," she replied and then stood. "Come on. I have an idea." 



"Idea?" 



* * * 



"Cassidy," I said and drew her name out. "You don't have to do this. I don't need more clothes." 



She kissed my cheek. "Stop it. Let me spoil you a little." 



"Fine, but this place is expensive. Let me handle the bill." 



She cocked her head at me, a little smile playing over her lips. "We'll split the cost." 



"Accepted." 



"Good. Now work with me here. Your taste in clothes isn't bad..." 



"Hey!" 



"Nick, I swear, if you wear another light blue or white shirt to the office, I'm going to scream. There are other colors in the universe." 



"I'm aware of that-." 



"And do you own a tie that isn't a solid color? 



Off-guard and off-balance, I shook my head and answered honestly. "Probably not." 



"You will when we're done," she said with a smile. "And I'll keep these at my apartment." 



"Probably easier that way," I agreed. 



"And none of Nicole's hooker perfume on them." 



"Easy." 



"C'mon, it's expensive and cheap at the same time." 



"Cassidy, enough." 



She held up her hands. "Moving on." 



Jeff, the sales guy at Brooks Brothers, smiled at our back and forth. I shrugged and motioned for him to follow Cassidy, who had started circling a table displaying a wide variety of shirts. My phone buzzed just as the two of them started conspiring against me. I heard something about cashmere and saxon wool, before I answered my phone. 



"Nick," my wife's voice reached me before I said hello. "Where's Jasmine?" 



"She's at the mall with Emily." 



"Oh. Where are you?" 



"At the mall," I said. "The girls wanted to go off by themselves, so I decided to do some window shopping. I'm at Brooks Brothers now." 



"Ahhh, okay." 



"You sounded worried. Is everything okay?" 



"Yeah," she said and sounded distracted. "I just saw the missed calls from Jasmine, and she didn't answer when I called home. I got wo-." I heard a sharp intake of breath. "Worried. Sorry." 



"You alright?" 



"Yeah." She exhaled. "Fine." 



"Uh huh." 



I missed a call from Jasmine as well, so I didn't blame my wife, but anger swelled within me, when I realized she was probably already fucking David. She couldn't even spare time for a simple conversation about her daughter. 



What the fuck? 



"Why did you miss her calls? You and David too busy to hear your daughter calling?" 



My voice held biting sarcasm and I knew she heard it. A low moan was her only answer, followed by another, and then a low "stop it." 



"David and I were fucking, Nick. You happy?" 



"Peachy," I replied. 



"Yeah well, we're about to start again." Acid dripped from each syllable. "I'll send you some pictures." 



"Don't bother. Been there, seen that. Not interested in the rerun." 



"Bye." 



The urge to curse, loudly and colorfully, almost split my brain, but I pushed it down and slid my phone into my pocket. Cassidy stood nearby holding several shirts, and her expression left no doubt, she'd heard my conversation with Nicole. 



"Change of plans," I said. 



"Ohhh?" 



"Pick out anything you like." 



Her eyes brightened. "Anything?" 



"Anything," I repeated. "And once we're done here, I'm taking you shopping. Sky's the limit." 



"You are so sexy right now." 



I chuckled and shook my head, sexy wasn't a description I was used to, but I sure did like it. She moved back to speak to Jeff, and started pointing at new items. Jeff's eyes grew brighter as she talked and pointed, and I suspected I'd get a Christmas card from him this year. 



An idea flashed through my brain as I watched the two of them, and I made another call. Turns out, credit card companies are more than happy to add someone to your account. They even promised to overnight a credit card to Cassidy's address. 



"Dad?" 



I narrowly avoided whiplash when my head spun around in the direction of my daughter's voice. They were standing in the doorway, and I motioned them over. 



"What are you doing? I thought you'd gone home." 



"Relax, kiddo. I'm not spying on you. I ran into Cassidy at Starbucks. When I mentioned that I was going to Brooks Brothers, she insisted on coming along." Cassidy broke away from Jeff and walked over. I waited until she was within earshot to continue. "Apparently my wardrobe is dated?" 



I nodded at my girlfriend. "Is that the word you used?" 



"No. Old," she clarified. "Old is the word I chose." 



"Oh my god," Jasmine said in her excited teenager voice. "I totally agree." 



"Is that right?" 



"See," Cassidy punched me in the shoulder. "Your daughter agrees with me." 



The two women shared a smile. I glanced between them, enjoying how they seemed to bond over men's clothing. 



"Fine." I surrendered and cocked my head at my daughter. "Jasmine, would you and Emily, like to help Cassidy pick out some clothes for me?" 



"Are you serious?" 



"Completely." 



The two teenagers giggled with delight. At least, I think it was delight. Anyway, they nodded their heads eagerly and Cassidy waved them over. Jeff took a step back, held up his hands, and let the women take the lead. He motioned at the register, and I knew he was bowing out of the competition. He'd help them when they were done. 



Cassidy and Jasmine did most of the shopping, with Emily adding her own comments. They started talking rapid-fire fashion, using terms that sounded like a foreign language. Jeff came over to take some measurements, muttering under his breath that the girls sent him over, and then gave them to the girls. 



Shirts and ties were easy. I just agreed with my personal shoppers, and only objected to a few suggestions. 



Pink. I can only do pink in small amounts. That opinion earned me a few glares, but they honored my request. Cassidy whispered for me to pick out some t-shirts and underwear, when she pushed a shirt and tie against my chest. 



Apparently, some skin tones don't do well with certain colors? Who knew? I did as instructed though, and gave them to Jeff to add to the pile at the register. A few other customers, read men, gave me sympathetic smiles, and I noticed that all the male customers took a moment to give Cassidy second and third looks. 



Jasmine called Jeff over and motioned at the slacks and jackets. I was impressed and proud of her confidence. Cassidy glanced my way and I could see she was impressed as well. Jeff turned into a bobble head doll, and nodded at everything my daughter said, before he turned and motioned another sales person over. 



He needed help...not a good sign. 



They started pulling items off tables and racks. 



My daughter came over, grabbed my hand, and pulled me over to the dressing rooms. 



"C'mon. We need you to try some stuff on." 



"Yes, ma'am." 



Thirty, long and tortuous, minutes later the girls announced their mission accomplished. Jeff had everything ready at the register, of course, and he was more than ready to help me with my purchase. 



"You girls hungry?" 



"Starving," they replied in unison and then giggled. 



"Me too. Why don't the three of you head over to the pizza place and get us a table? I'll take care of the clothes, and meet you there." 



"Ohhh, I don't have to go," Cassidy started her objections. 



"No," Jasmine interjected. "You have to come. Please." 



"Are you sure?" 



"Totally." 



"Okay. Thank you." 



My personal shoppers left and I discovered that my credit card still worked. Jeff offered to have the clothes delivered, for an extra fee, and I gave him Cassidy's address and phone. 



My phone buzzed as I left the store. 



<em>Nicole: I'm sorry.</em> 



<em>Me: It's okay. This open marriage thing ain't going to be easy.</em> 



<em>Nicole: No. It's not. Where are you?</em> 



<em>Me: Mall with Jasmine and Emily. We're about to have pizza.</em> 



<em>Nicole: Cool. I'll join you.</em> 



<em>Me: Fine. Cassidy is with us.</em> 



<em>Nicole: Ohhhh.</em> 



<em>Me: You're welcome to join us.</em> 



<em>Nicole: I'll see you at home.</em> 



I slipped my phone in my pocket. Did I feel guilty? Not one fucking bit. I never asked for an open marriage. Hell, I never wanted her to date Collin. I did it so she'd be happy. If she was pissed, the blame fell squarely on her shoulders. 



Jasmine was sitting alone when I entered. I motioned at the lady behind the podium and she waved me past. 



"Hey, Jas. What happened to Emily and Cassidy?" 



"Restroom," she said and took a sip of her soda. 



"Ahhh, gotcha. Did you order?" 



"Yep." 



"Thanks for your help today. I like what you picked out." 



"You're welcome." 



A waiter came by and took my drink order. 



"I like Cassidy," Jasmine said abruptly. "She's nice." 



"I'm glad. I like her too." 



"No dad," she said and met my eyes. "I mean I like Cassidy." 



"You lost me." 



My daughter took a breath and leaned forward. "I mean, if Cassidy is more than your employee, I still like her. She's nice." Jasmin shrugged. "And I like the way you smile when you're around her. Mom doesn't make you smile like that anymore." 



"Honey." 



"It's okay, dad. We don't have to talk about it here, but I just wanted you to know." 



"Thank you," I replied. "When did you become so smart?" 



A happy smile appeared on her face. "I've always been smart." 



"That's definitely true." 



"Emily's parents recently divorced," she said and her smile disappeared. "It was ugly and hard on Emily. I guess I learned a lot from listening to her." 



"You're a good friend, Jas." 



She dropped her head, but I could tell she appreciated the compliment. "I try." 



My soda arrived, and I sipped it while I searched for something to say. Nicole and I had raised a perceptive young woman, and she didn't miss a thing. I hadn't realized my behavior had changed enough for her to notice. 



"I'll pick you," she said abruptly. 



"Pick me?" 



"If you and mom separate, divorce, whatever," she said. "I'll pick you. I'll stay with you, dad. And I'll help you with April." 



"Whoa." I reached out and took her hand. "Slow down. Your mom and I aren't anywhere near divorce." 



"Yeah." A knowing, resigned expression passed over her face, before she averted her eyes. "That's what Emily's parents said, and now they can't stand each other." 



"Jasmine, look at me." I waited until our eyes met. "That will not be our future. Whatever our future holds, I can promise you that I will never treat your mother badly. I won't put you, or April, in the middle either." 



"Promise, dad?" 



Jasmine was afraid. Her words held the vulnerability of a young woman. A young woman who needed something in her life that was solid. Whether Emily's parents' divorce scared her, or the extracurricular activities between Nicole, and me. It didn't matter. My daughter felt scared, and I promised myself that I'd be there for her. 



"Yes, Jasmine. I promise." 



She sat across the table, and she'd long since stopped showing me affection in public, but right then, she came around the table and hugged me. Her arms gripped me tightly, and I hugged her back. 



"I love you, Jasmine," I whispered. "I'll always be there for you, no matter what." 



She nodded, tightened her grip on me once more, and then broke our hug. Her smile was brittle, but it was also happy. I smiled back and offered her a wink. That seemed to do the trick, because she sat back down. 



Cassidy and Emily returned from the bathroom a few moments later, just before our pizza arrived. Apparently, a line had formed for the women's bathroom. I decided to remain silent. There are a few privileges to being male, and no lines at the restroom was one of them. 



Pizza was great. This restaurant was trendy, and soon it was packed. We ordered dessert, and talked and laughed until we'd all eaten too much. Jasmine and Cassidy hit it off. They'd always gotten along, but something had changed, and now they were seriously bonding; not sisterly exactly, but something in that neighborhood. 



* * * 



"Call me later," Cassidy said in my ear as we hugged goodbye. 



"Sure thing." 



Jasmine hugged her as well, and Emily waved to her. I dropped Emily off at her mother's, and then headed home. 



"You're a good dad." 



"What makes you say that?" 



My daughter shrugged. "My friends and I were talking at school. Several of my friend's parents have divorced, and they don't have good things to say about any of it. Their parents change into different people, and well," she paused. "It's just different and not in a good way." 



"Sorry to hear that," I added. "Divorce isn't easy on anyone, honey." 



"Is that where you and mom are headed?" 



"No," I said. "I don't see your mom and I divorcing." 



"The two of you aren't as happy as you used to be though, I can tell." 



"Our relationship has changed, sure," I conceded the point. "All marriages change, it doesn't mean your mom and I don't still love each other." 



"I know," she said with a nod. "But you should see yourself with Cassidy. She makes you happy." 



"So does your mother, Jasmine." 



"Did Collin make her happy?" 



I didn't bother trying to maintain our charade. Jasmine had obviously seen through it. More than anything, I felt disappointed. My daughter shouldn't have to handle stuff like this; it wasn't fair to her. 



"Yes. For a time, he made your mom very happy." 



"He's not her boyfriend anymore, is he?" 



"No." 



"Who is?" 



"That's something you should ask your mom, honey." I glanced in her direction. "You and she should have that discussion." 



"I'm sure he's black." 



"What?" 



"C'mon, dad. I saw the way she looked at Collin. I've seen her eyes linger on black guys in public." She shifted in her seat and looked out the window. "She's just like some of the girls in my class." 



"You don't like black guys?" 



I couldn't believe I was having this discussion with my daughter. It felt supremely awkward. At the same time however, she was talking openly with me and I didn't want to shut that off. 



"They're fine, I guess," she said. "A little arrogant, but some of them are cute. Emily likes black guys." 



"Huh." 



I had no idea what else to say. 



"Would you be okay if I dated a black guy?" 



I chuckled. "Honey, you should never ask a father if he'd be okay with his daughter dating. Black, brown, white, purple, no father likes the thought of his daughter going out with a boy...excuse me, young man." 

<hr pg="4" />She didn't respond. I knew it wasn't the answer she'd expected. I sighed quietly, and reminded myself that this conversation wasn't about me. 



"Jasmine," I said and waited until she turned her head. "I'd be fine if you dated a black bo- sorry, young man. Truthfully, I don't care about race or ethnicity; so much as I care about how they treat you. Never let a man mistreat you, honey." 



"I won't." 



"So, is this your way of letting me know you've got a boyfriend?" 



"No boyfriend, dad. You can relax." 



"But you've been asked." 



"Yes." 



I sighed. "You can date, honey. It's okay with me." 



"Are you sure?" 



"Yes. You'll have to be patient with me, and I want to meet anyone you date, but I'll be fine." I shook my head. "I'll apologize in advance for being overprotective. It's not easy being a dad and there ain't a rule book." 



"Thanks, dad." She leaned over and kissed my cheek. "You're doing great." 



"Awwww, stop it...some more." 



We drove the rest of the way in silence. I tried to deal with the crazy day I'd had, and my daughter set records for speed-texting. It didn't take a rocket scientist to know that I'd probably be meeting a 'nice young man' in the near future. 



Ugh! 



My in-laws SUV stood in the driveway when we arrived. Nicole and I had been poor when we started our lives together. At that time, her parents seemed like they had all the money in the world. Two decades had passed since we'd married, and now it had become increasingly apparent that they struggled to make ends meet. I'd offered to help, but my father-in-law wouldn't hear of it. 



I understood. I'd refuse help as well. 



Still, I suspected Nicole found a way to help, through her mother of course, and the system worked for everyone. They'd had the same SUV for over a decade, and as I passed it, I swore I'd buy them another one and deal with the fallout. Her dad would be pissed, but a nice V-8 and leather interior would probably calm him down. Hell, I'd have flames painted on it, if he'd just accept it with a 'thank you.' 



When we entered, Nicole and her parents were conversing in the living room. April came over, hugged me, and started to tell me about her day. Too big to carry now, I wrapped my arm around her and she continued talking as we joined the group. 



"Hi, baby." 



"Hey." 



I shook hands with her father, and her mother insisted on giving me a hug. The same greeting we'd exchanged every time we met. I didn't mind. There was something comforting in tradition, and I liked and respected my in-laws. We conversed in English and Spanish, flipping back and forth the way we always did. My Spanish had improved over the years, and my mother-in-law never failed to compliment me. We talked for another thirty minutes before they needed to leave. Nicole's mom didn't want to miss bingo. 



"How many miles on this tank?" 



Nicole's father had just slid behind the wheel, and he patted the steering wheel with a satisfied expression. 



"Almost two hundred and fifty thousand." 



"Wow," I said. "Ready for a new one yet?" 



"Yes," my mommy-in-law said quickly. 



"No," her father contradicted. 



"Well, drive safely," I said and shook his hand. 



Nicole was in the bathroom, getting ready for bed, when I entered. She had a pre-bedtime ritual that I knew better than to interrupt, so I changed clothes, brushed my teeth, and retreated to the patio. Of course, I poured a glass of whiskey before I ventured outside, but I left the cigars in the humidor. The seasons were turning in San Antonio, and the evening had a nice cool bite. 



"Hey you," I said when Cassidy answered the phone. 



"Hey back, I was wondering if you'd call." 



"I told you I would." 



"I know, but I wasn't sure what kind of atmosphere you'd have tonight." 



"So far, so good." 



"I'm glad, but I'm mad at you." 



"What? Why?" 



"You paid for everything. We agreed to split the cost." 



"I guess you'll just have to owe me." 



"Hmmmmmm." She purred over the phone, and my heart raced in response. "I'll work off my debt however you want." 



I laughed. "Since we're talking about the clothes, I asked for them to be delivered to your apartment. I hope that's okay." 



"Fine. That's where I wanted them anyway." 



"Good. They'll call and arrange delivery." 



"So when are you spending the night?" 



"I don't know," I replied. "I still have to speak with Nicole, but maybe as soon as tomorrow." 



"Really? That's awesome." 



"It's not too late to change your mind," I pointed out. 



"Stop it," she chided me, and then changed the subject. "I had fun today. Jasmine's great." 



"Yeah, she's pretty awesome," I agreed. "We had a good talk on the way home. I think she may have a boyfriend soon." 



"Oooooh, how does dad feel about that?" 



"Worried." 



"Jasmine will be fine. You've raised a great kid, you should trust her." 



"I do. I still worry though; it's in the parent's job description." 



"Does Nicole know?" 



"No," I said. "At least I don't think so." 



"Jasmine told you first? Wow, normally girls go to mom." 



"Not in this case." 



"Everything okay? I mean with Jasmine and Nicole?" 



"I'm not sure." 



I wanted to discuss it further; however, it felt like a betrayal. This is a conversation Nicole and I should have together, and sharing to much with Cassidy wouldn't sit well with my wife. Cassidy seemed to sense my feelings. 



"It's okay, honey. We can talk about it another time." 



She called me honey. It felt great. It sounded great. I wanted to hear her call me that more often. 



"Sounds good. Listen, I'm going to call it a night. See you at work tomorrow?" 



"Of course. Bright and early." 



"Great. Have a nice night." 



"Sleep over," she added slyly. "Then I'll have a great night. So will you." 



"Soon." 



"Bye." 



I terminated the call with a smile on my face. Starting an open marriage wasn't my idea, but so far it had been great. Cassidy loved it, and I suspected Nicole did as well. Surprisingly, I hadn't thought much about David, or my loss on the golf course. 



Weird. 



Our master bedroom had it's own exit to the backyard, and a tiny patio. I never used it, because it was too far from the kitchen, but I wandered in that direction now. Hopefully, Nicole and I could talk about the next thirty days. Just as I reached the patio, I heard her voice. 



"-Spent the day with his new girlfriend." 



<em>Silence.</em> 



"I don't know. The mall I guess, but I'm sure he fucked her. You know, it's possible he lost on purpose, David." 



<em>Silence.</em> 



"I care," she spat. "That bitch is just itching to take my husband. This open marriage deal was supposed to be for you and me, not for Nick and his little slut." 



My eyes bulged at her description. Anger filled my body as well, and I swore under my breath. My wife has a temper, that's well covered territory, but I'd never considered how strong her feelings were towards Cassidy. I craned my head until I found a small space between our curtains that allowed me a view of my wife. 



"Yes. Of course, I loved spending time with you. You're amazing. I lose control with you and I love it." 



She laughed into the phone as she listened. 



"No. I'm not having sex with Nick tonight. After the way you filled me today, it's unlikely I'd feel him anyway." 



She paced forward, nodding as she walked. 



"I know. I know. A toothpick in a toilet roll, you're right. Only you can satisfy me." She shook her head and ran her fingers through her hair. "I can't do that, baby. He's my husband, and he's not doing the cuckold thing anymore. He's going to want to have sex with his wife." 



A deep sigh left her chest and she sat on our bed. She moved the phone from one ear to the other. "Yes, baby. You know I do, but we just started. Be patient. Let's see how things go, and we'll play it by ear. We want the same things." 



She nodded into the phone for several seconds. 



"I'll speak to Nick about it. Yes, I told you already. I like the idea and I'd love to spend more time with you." 



More listening, more nodding, and more smiles. 



"What am I wearing? Pajama's, like we discussed." She giggled. "No. I won't. I promise. Okay. See you soon." 



My eyes traveled over her body, and sure enough, she wore pajamas that covered her entire body. Long pajama pants, and long-sleeved top, buttoned up to her neck. I wasn't looking for sex tonight, and based on what I'd just overheard, sex with Nicole didn't look likely anytime soon. 



<em>Fine!</em> 



Anger and frustration welled up inside me. I replayed their conversation, and I had a hard time believing my wife had said those things. It didn't sound like her. 



I moved back and peeked inside the room, just in time to see my wife leaving. I suspected she was coming to find me, and I didn't want her to know I'd heard everything. I scrambled back to the patio, and managed to take a seat before my bitch-wife opened the door. 



"Nick?" 



"Out here." 



"Want some company?" 



The sweetness in her voice stood in stark contrast to the bile I'd heard less than a minute earlier. 



"Sure." 



She smiled and sat next to me, her grandma-pajamas screaming and mocking me. 



Like the soup-nazi from Seinfeld...No Sex For You! 



"I'm sorry you lost today," she began. "I was shocked at David's text. That's why I called Cassidy." 



"David played well." 



She stared at me for a long moment. "Are we okay?" 



"I don't know, Nicole," I replied. "I agreed to this thirty day open marriage trial, and I'll hold up my end, but I don't know if we're okay or not." 



"It's only thirty days," she said. "We've been married for twenty years; surely the next thirty days won't end our marriage." 



I shrugged. Nothing I could say would dampen her enthusiasm. 



"How was your day with Cassidy?" 



I met her eyes. "I spent more time with Jasmine than Cassidy. You know, Jasmine, our daughter." 



Anger flashed in her eyes, but I saw her push it down, take a deep breath and calm herself. "I don't want to fight. Thank you for taking care of Jas. How is she?" 



"Good. We talked about her dating, and I told her it was fine. I'd handle it, and I'd be cordial to whoever she brought home." I shook my head. "I think she was worried." 



"Does she have a boyfriend?" 



"She says she doesn't, but I suspect she'll introduce us to one soon." 



"Ahhh," she said and smiled. "She's growing up." 



"Yeah." 



Silence enveloped both of us. My wife's demeanor was cautious on the surface, but I knew underneath she was excited and happy about the next thirty days. What bothered me the most however, was the two faces she'd donned in such a short time. 



Truth, it seemed, had become the first casualty of our open marriage. 



It didn't bode well for the future. 



Anyone reading this is probably thinking I should confront her. Have it out. Lay my cards on the table, force her to account for her conversation, and be honest with me. 



A frontal assault for the truth. 



I chose another path. It's nearly impossible to force someone to be honest. They either are...or they're not. Knowing my wife, I knew pushing for the truth now would make it harder to uncover in the future. 



I'd heard her conversation. 



David had his own plans. 



Nicole was fine with them. 



Where did that leave me?

