That Steamy Sex We Never Had

Driving back from the pub, mind filled with Laura. My wife chattering away pleasantly. Hey that was fun, those were good people, for some reason we only seem to get together about once a year, probably less, I don’t think you could make it last Christmas, probably won’t see them again now for ages.

This sad fact slowly percolating into my thoughts. Difficult to know what to do about Laura. Get her phone number from my wife somehow? How? Could invent a pretext, I suppose. Ring her up, arrange to meet for a coffee?

Rain coming down outside. My wife turning on the wipers. Traffic headlights twinkling. Light leeching from the sky. Nondescript music on the car radio. A dull damp day’s end, memory of Laura the only glow.

So we meet up for coffee. What then? Proposition her? Hard not to, our bodies seemed to be reaching out to one another. But maybe that’s just my imagination, what happens if I’ve read it wrong? Well, so what?, that’s just part of the great seduction game.

Except that this wouldn’t just be a normal rejection, where you just feel a bit embarrassed, then get on with your life, forget about it all. This would filter out into my wife’s circle of friends, Laura would whisper the story to one of them, the secret would be out, before long everybody would know, R made a pass at Laura.

Just like the news of Laura’s sexless marriage, no doubt a secret once, now common knowledge.

In the car, my wife concentrating on the road, both hands on the steering wheel. Her face with its characteristic expression of focus and care and awareness. Also somehow a sense of innocence.

Not someone lightly to betray. Or, if betrayal there must be, as with my escort adventures, let it be contained, not certain of discovery. And let it be remote, not amongst friends.

Oh well, Laura, I’m going to have to let you go. Fare thee well, gorgeous lover that never was. That steamy sex we never had, my fingertips imagined on your intimate body, it was wonderful.