David and Hanna Part One: David
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The concrete under the float rose in a gentle wave as my hand passed it over the surface. It was satisfying. Smooth. The midday sunlight caught what little water remained in the slurry as it was pressed into the broad plane of what would soon be David and Hanna’s back patio. David and I had been working since sunrise hoping to get it done in the coolest part of the day but now the desert southwest summer was driving us inside. Sweat ran from the tips of our noses and seeped through the fabric of our t-shirts as we rose a little stiffly, dusted ourselves off, and retreated up the stairway to lean on the cool marble countertops in the kitchen.BeerHanding me a cold bottle of lager, David shook his head and smiled: “Adam, I really can’t thank you enough for being so much help with this.” His hair hung in wet strands behind his glasses – nearly obscuring a pair of kind, intelligent green eyes.“It’s my pleasure – really,” I said with a broad smile. And I meant it. I like time spent with David and his wife. “It’s great to feel the accomplishment of getting something built. And it’s good for me to get out…”My voice trailed off in an awkward bit of wondering about how far to go with that idea. It’s good for me to get out after the divorce. It’s good that you’re still my friends. It’s good that you don’t know that I carry a torch for you and on your wife and that I’ll happily accept any excuse to come over here.We sank into chairs at the kitchen table with our sweating bottles of beer. David mopped his forehead with a plaid dishcloth and handed one to me. I could see that he had picked up on the tone of what I didn’t say and he eyed me intently: “I don’t mean to pry, but I never asked you what happened between you and Laura. You don’t have to tell me – really – but if it would help to talk it through…well I’m here. And I’ve been there.”Hanna is David’s second wife and they’re ridiculously good together. His first marriage was challenging – to put it lightly – and it wore him down in ways that make him appreciate the çankaya escort ease and grace of this relationship. His offer to listen softened my reluctance a little – although I didn’t really know how to walk through the next few ideas. “It’s complicated.” I began, and I rested my forehead in my palms. “You can put two people together – and they can be fantastic people – but it still might not be in the cards. Laura and I needed different things.”“Such as?”David asked this without judgment and in a way that would draw the truth from me that I had no intention of sharing. Sensing my apprehension, he cupped his right hand gently around my elbow. His nail beds were rimmed with cement. His hands and arms were tan and honed from decades spent rowing down the most turbulent rivers of the American West. He holds himself with ease and he broadcasts reassurance.“It’s not her fault. But I was suffocating. I have a need for an erotic life that wasn’t anything she could begin to understand – let alone join me in. I don’t really fit the normal model of man and wife and the whole thing lasting for forty years.” I watched his face for a reaction. He was kind and let me continue without hurry.“I tried,” I said quietly.“I’m sure you did,” he said, as he took a firmer grip of my bicep. “It’s OK. And Hanna and I are here for you no matter what. We’re friends. We’re good.” He smiled sweetly and leaned in, embracing me. I could smell sunlight and soil and his warm body. I felt tension roll off of me through his hands on my back and with the opportunity to talk. As he pulled back he saw my uncertain eye contact.“There’s more,” he said.I looked at him uncomfortably and kept his gaze as I drew a long pull from my beer. I stood awkwardly at the crossroads: honesty along one path, and safety along the other, and I worried that “no matter what” might not really mean that. But the beer and the audience of a skilled listener intoxicated me.“I have a crush on Hanna -” my ears keçiören escort rang from my increasing blood pressure. “And on you.” His face was placid as my eyes scanned it for some confirmation that this was a huge mistake. “I’ve felt this way since you moved here and it doesn’t need to be an issue, really – it doesn’t need to change how we get along, and I don’t know why I’m telling you this… except that you somehow just soak truth from me like a sponge and now I can’t turn back.” I winced from my self-imposed vulnerability. My soul squirmed.In my imagination, this conversation had already happened dozens of times. I vividly crafted the details of saying this to Hanna, or saying it to David or telling them simultaneously in a bar booth littered with empty pints. They were my go-to fantasy when I would masturbate. They were my dreamed-of erotic lottery win and in the middle of the night when an erection would wake me from sleep. I’d slowly drift my fingertips over my boxer shorts and imagine confessing my attraction. In the fantasy, they would feel the same way and we would overcome our nervousness and explore each other’s bodies.As my breathing grew faster and my fingertip encircled my frenulum I would take Hanna’s nape in my open teeth – my hands moving up her flanks from her bare hips to the intercostal spaces of her ribs. With my pelvis rolling and my pace of stroking increasing, I would see David in my mind’s eye running his palms down my bare back to the base of my spine. As I grew closer to climax he would take my ass in his hands and press my cheeks apart. Hanna would grind her soft belly against my bare cock and whisper lovingly to me. As I pictured the three of us becoming parts of each other’s internal structure I would shudder and hear the droplets of cum land across my chest like rain. I would sleep in the soft contentment of imagined love.The academics say that threesomes are the most widely-held sexual fantasy in the United States etimesgut escort of America, but I took little comfort in the statistics. It felt more like foolishness that I would throw the dice with my friendship – but sometimes secrets find a way of getting themselves told. They burrow through our psyches and our defenses with the aid of fatigue, kindness, and cold beer. David was quiet and his facial expression remained stoic. After a few moments, he gave my bicep a squeeze of reassurance and pulled his phone from his pocket.“Sorry,” he said, looking down with a hint of amusement. It’s her.” David’s thumb typed a message back to his wife, who was at her parents’ house in Kansas with their two children: Maddie, twelve, and Calvin, fifteen. Given the potential upheaval I’d thrown us all into I felt like the least I could do was sit patiently and watch the flurry of his fingers across the screen followed by his occasional smiles as the message would be returned. His brown hair was beginning to dry and soften. I watched the movement of fabric reveal the shape of his chest beneath his formerly white t-shirt. With the nearly-silent click of the power button, he placed his phone at rest on the tabletop and revealed a grin that he could no longer keep hidden.“We’ve talked about this, Adam,” he said. “Hanna and I.” He shook his head and laughed through his breath. I felt a tentative moment of relief. “She and I both had a whole range of boyfriends and girlfriends in college and grad school and we’re pretty open. Not like open – but we’ve talked a lot about our sex lives – and especially now that the kids are older we’re feeling more…creative?” My fear and anxiety made room for an overwhelming feeling of acceptance. And gratitude. I was deeply moved – even before I heard what came next.“It’s uncanny that you would come to us with this because we’ve wanted to bring someone else into our bed, but it needs to be a person we trust.” He leaned a bit closer and rested his weight on his elbows. “We thought of you, specifically, but we’ve had no idea how to actually approach you. We worried we’d freak you out. You’ve been through a lot.” His right hand moved to the side of my knee. Gentle. Reassuring. Inviting. “When she texted I told her about this conversation you and I are having right now.”“Oh my God. What did she say?”“She said, ‘You boys have fun.”
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