From here, it’s all instinct. I could suck and finger Nadia to orgasm while I jack myself off in my sleep. But the remembered sweet, caffeine-y taste of Jourdan on my tongue has been lingering all day. I can taste the remnants of her while my wife’s thighs clench around my ears and her pussy spasms on my tongue. I can feel the memory of Jourdan squirming in my lap as I stroke myself to an embarrassingly fast release. I can even hear her bubbly giggle and see her playful wink as I sink to the floor with a wet mouth and sticky hands, my wife panting like she’s run a marathon on the bed.

“Can we call you back tomorrow with a formal offer?” the unknown man asks Nadia.

“Nine a.m. sharp, or you can explain to your client how the deal fell apart,” she says before hanging up.

“Can we order pizza for dinner?” the boys yell from the bottom of the stairs.

Normally, we’d scold them for yelling, but tonight, Nadia’s already on the app for our favorite pizza spot. “Veggie,” she calls.

“Pepperoni,” they whine back.

“Veggie and chicken,” I correct. “Have you two cleaned your room?” I put some bass in my voice, but it’s all an act. I couldn’t peel myself up from the floor to discipline them in this moment if I were Superman, but they don’t know that.

Nadia and I exhale in relief at the sound of them scurrying away from the stairs just in case we press the issue and change our minds about dinner.

“Ordered,” Nadia says with a sigh. “I like her.”

“I like her too.”

nature retreat

The sun isn’t even out yet, but I’m up, showered, and terrified.

Jourdan wanted another early date, and Nadia and I caved immediately, but I vetoed another trip to the coffee shop. It’s too public, and for the past couple of days, her whispered promise to give me head in the bathroom has brought me to my knees every time I think about it. I’ve had nightmares of walking back into Brews Crews and finding Jourdan behind the counter in an apron with nothing underneath, her tongue snaking around another straw. Okay, I’m calling them nightmares because admitting that I’m a nearly forty-year-old man having wet dreams is embarrassing. Still, no more coffee shop dates.

It took the three of us a full day, in the group chat Nadia and I share with Jourdan, to decide on a suitable option. Nadia brought back the romantic dinner idea, and I shut that down before Jourdan probably even saw that text message. I’d learned my lesson. Nadia sent us a smirking emoji when she got off work. But then I offered up a picnic in a very public park we go to a lot with the boys, so maybe I was still learning.