Hummingbird

Patrick lay on the bed, watching Linda get ready. He had done it before, hundreds of times, watched her eyes narrowing as she applied lipstick and her fingers arranging her hair.

She caught his eye in the mirror. "Hey," she said.

He wiggled his fingers at her reflection. "Hey there," he said. His voice sounded forced and she paused, makeup brush in hand, to look at him in the mirror, then turned her head to face him.

"What's up?" she asked quietly.

"Nothing," he said, too quickly. "Nothing's up." He paused. "You're going out with your girlfriends," he added.

"Yeah," she said. She looked at him pensively. "That's where I'm going."

"Going to the Matador?" he asked lightly.

She glanced at her watch and put the brush down on her vanity.

"We're trying a new place Chloe wanted to check out," she said. "I forget what it's called."

He smiled. "How will you find it then?" he asked.

"We're meeting at Diana's," Linda said. "And going over together. Apparently parking's a pain there so we're going to carpool."

"Ah," Patrick said. He paused again. "Have a good time," he said.

She studied him. "What do you have planned?" she asked. "Any games on?"

"Yeah," he said. "Celtics Lakers. I'll probably check it out."

She stood up and came over to the bed. "Patrick," she said seriously. "You know I'm just going out with the girls. I'm not..." She laid a hand on his arm. "You know. This isn't like before, when I used to go out. With guys."

"Oh, I know," he assured her. "You're just going to spend some quality time with your friends. I'm not worried."

She examined his face. "Okay," she said. "But are you going to be fantasizing that I am? With a guy I mean?"

He touched her hand. "Just go have a good time," he said. "I'll be here when you get back."

She didn't move. "Patrick..." she began.

"What?" he asked. "Look... fantasies are just fantasies, okay?"

She bit her lip. "Please don't," she said softly.

"Fantasize?"

"Yeah." She paused. "About me and other guys. Okay?"

He looked away and shrugged.

"Patrick," she said. Her voice was rising. "We talked about this. We need to both make an effort to make our marriage more..." She paused. "Normal."

He didn't look up. "Yeah," he mumbled. "I know. You're right."

She squeezed his hand. "Promise me?"

He looked up at her then dropped his eyes. "Yeah," he said. "Okay."

She squeezed his hand again, then leaned over and kissed him. "I love you," she whispered.

He looked up at her. "Love you too," he told her. "Now go meet your friends, they'll wonder where you are."

She looked at her watch again. "Okay," she said. "Yeah... I'll be home in a bit, I won't be late tonight."

"Enjoy yourself," he told her and could have bit his tongue, but she didn't seem to notice the slip.

She smiled at him, then picked up her shoes. "See you," she murmured and turned to go. He heard her steps on the stairs. She stopped to put on her shoes in the hallway, then the front door opened and closed.

Patrick sighed and got up. It had only been nine weeks since he and Linda had agreed that things had gotten out of hand and they needed to take a break from Linda dating other guys. Had they agreed? Or had Linda just decided? Of course, it was totally reasonable for her to decide that - if she didn't want to sleep with other men, who was he to say she should?

But it didn't seem reasonable that she should decide what he fantasized about.

He went downstairs and turned on the game. Lakers were up by eight points but it wasn't even half time yet, there was plenty of time to catch up. He cracked a beer and sat down.

It felt kind of like a betrayal. Linda had always liked the cuckold role playing that he was into. And then, taking it to the next level, really cuckolding him. For Chrissake she had fucked Justin, a guy off the internet, in front of him as a wedding present! And the next day she had owned up that she had really enjoyed it, it wasn't just for Patrick.

It had been super smoking hot, having her take the lead in their games, guiding him to higher and higher levels of... what? Enthrallment, he decided. Waiting patiently for her to come home. Being there to lick her pussy when she wanted it licked, to fuck her when that what she wanted. Both of them knowing that he wasn't the only one who got to do these things, that Linda's body was there to be shared, as she chose to share it.

So fucking hot. In every sense.

And now... not only was she shutting down the extracurricular fun they had had, she wanted to keep him from even thinking about it. He scowled as the Lakers scored another basket.

His phone buzzed and he picked it up, but didn't bring it to his ear right away. Mahoney was attempting a three point shot... it rolled around the rim and fell outside the basket. Shit. Laker ball.

His phone was still buzzing. He tapped the answer button without even checking who it was. Stupid fucking Mahoney, trying for the glamour shot, he should have pushed forward and made sure, so undisciplined. Now if he, Patrick, were the coach...

"H'lo," he said briefly into his phone.

"Hello," said a familiar female voice. "Is Linda there?"

"Cassie?" Patrick took his eyes off the TV. "Um, no." Then the absurdity of the question struck him. "Don't you have her number?"

"Oh," Cassie said. "I didn't want to talk to her. I was just making sure she hadn't chickened out."

"Chickened out?" Patrick felt his face flushing. "What do you naan?"

"Well..." Cassie said slyly. "Where is Linda?"

"Where's Linda? What do you mean? She's out, out with some friends." He paused. "Why do you even care? I thought you guys weren't... well, friends anymore."

Cassie ignored that. "With her friends," she said pensively. "Is that what she told you?"

"What are you getting at?" Patrick snapped. He should just hang up, why was he even talking to her?

"Well," Cassie said. "This afternoon she told me that she was just going to be seeing one friend tonight." She paused. "George, I think she said his name was."

Patrick looked back at the TV. Celtics had scored a basket and the crowd was applauding. He realized that he had been holding his breath. He let it out in a whistling sigh.

"Greg," he said quietly. "You mean Greg."

"That's right," Cassie agreed. "Greg." She paused again. "She said she'd seen him before, several times, and they always had a good time together."

Patrick sat there, thinking.

"Patrick?"

"Listen," he said. "I don't know where you get your information, but it's bullshit. Linda and I are taking a break from her... seeing other guys. Okay? She wants us to just be like regular married people."

"Oh, I know," Cassie said. "I mean, I know that's what she told you. But she's still got this... itch. You know. She wants to experiment. Sexually, I mean."

"I don't believe you," Patrick said flatly. "Why would she lie to me? Say she was going out with friends. When she was... going on a date."

"Cause it's fun," Cassie said. "It's all about keeping you on your toes, wondering what's going on." She paused. "I kind of suggested it," she added.

"Cassie!" He was trying to stay calm. "I thought I told you to stay the fuck out of my marriage! What are you, Jesus Christ, what are you doing telling Linda to lie to me?"

"Don't get upset," she said. "What I told her was she should pretend to be the perfect faithful wife with you but that I'd let you know what was really going on."

"This is bullshit," he burst out. "I don't believe you. She wouldn't lie to me about something like this."

"She's not lying," Cassie insisted. "She's playing a part. A part you actually want her to play, I think."

"Playing a part," he said heavily.

"Yes," Cassie said. "She's playing the wife who's getting a little extra on the side."

"I thought you just said she really is... that wife."

"Well, she is. Or... well, that's what she's doing. But telling you she's not, that's part of playing a role. And since I'm telling you what's really going on, it doesn't really count as a lie."

Patrick didn't answer.

"Patrick?"

"This is so fucked," he said.

Cassie clicked her tongue. "Listen," she said. "I can make this simple for you. When Linda gets home, I imagine you'll want to have sex."

Patrick grunted. "Maybe," he admitted.

"Well, I'm sure she'll want it." She paused. "I really think you will too."

"Okay," he said. "Probably."

"Right. So when you do... you'll probably be spending the whole time thinking about what she's just been up to. With Greg."

"Cassie..."

"Let me finish," she said. "You'll be going over her whole body, looking for signs of it. If her hair is damp, you'll be thinking, aha, she took a shower. Checking her makeup to see if it's out of place. Her clothes, including her underwear. You know, the stuff suspicious husbands do."

"Cassie..."

But Cassie barreled on. "I imagine you'll be tasting her pussy to see if he came inside her or if he used a condom. You'll be dying of jealousy but also harder than any kind of arithmetic you care to mention and dying to fuck her."

Patrick didn't say anything. He moved the phone to his other ear.

"And she'll be dying for it too, wanting to feel your cock inside her. And both of you will be thinking, the whole time you're fucking, that she's just come home from fucking her lover!"

"Cassie..."

"Don't pretend it doesn't turn you on to think about, Patrick. I know you better than that."

"I'm hanging up," he said.

"That's okay," Cassie said. "I gave you the message."

"Fuck off, Cassie."

"Night night," Cassie said. And the line went dead.

Patrick sat still, his phone in his hand. The Lakers were up by twelve now. His brain was spinning like a pinwheel in high wind. Linda was cheating? But not really because, a, he wanted her to fuck other men, and b, Cassie had told him that she was going to. Even when Linda said she was going to meet her friends when she was really going to meet a lover, that wasn't really lying because... it was all role playing? She was pretending to be deceiving him when all the time she knew that he knew that it was all an act?

Patrick picked up the remote and snapped off the TV.

Of course, they both wanted Linda to have a full and varied sex life. He, because he liked thinking about it. And she, because, well, she enjoyed it. But neither of them was allowed to talk about it, according to Linda's new rules.

On the other hand, if they were playing roles, then all that stuff about him not fantasizing about her with other guys when she was out was just more acting. So it was okay for him to fantasize. Or, he supposed, to visualize what she was actually doing.

Every time Cassie entered his life things got crazy.

His second beer was on the coffee table in front of him, half drunk. He picked it up but then slowly put it down. It was clear that he was going to need his wits about him to play the second act of tonight's cabaret when Linda got home. Not to mention making sure his dick was good and hard, didn't want any comparisons where he fell short.

His dick was, in fact, hard. Linda was going to come home soon and they were going to have sex. And in the meantime... he reached into his pants and gripped himself. She was getting laid.

Her ring holder. When she went out with guys she put her wedding and engagement rings on her ring holder, the kneeling man figure with the large erection where the two rings could hang alone as a signal of what she was doing. Patrick got up off the couch and went upstairs, not running but still taking them two at a time.

In the bedroom he went over to her dresser. The ring holder was there but there were a dozen rings hanging from its penis, not just the two special ones. He stared at them, trying to make sense of the jumble of jewelry. He was pretty sure that he'd be able to pick out the wedding ring if it were there. War that it? Or was it just another gold band?

And the engagement ring? He knew he'd been there when they picked it out but he was damned if he could recognize it among all the others. He didn't want to take the rings off, didn't want to handle them and get them out of order. The ring holder man's face was blank, his arms raised in mute supplication. Only his prick was defined in detail, right down to the bulbous head and the tiny metal veins. Patrick wondered, not for the first time, how big the cock would be if the statue was suddenly blown up to actual man-size. Not that Linda has ever said anything about penis size as something she cared about. But it turned out that he maybe didn't know as much about Linda as he thought he did.

He checked his watch. She'd said she wouldn't be out late but that was a vague statement. He settled down on the bed and got out his phone. No texts, no calls. He lay down and slid his hand into his pants again. He could try calling her, see if she answered, listen for whether there was a barroom's worth of background noise. But if she didn't answer, what would that prove? She would just say it had been noisy, she hadn't noticed his call.

He wasn't going to really jack off, didn't want any reduction in his staying power. But there was nothing wrong now in letting his mind wander where it wanted to go. He squeezed his cock and closed his eyes. He wasn't going to think about her with Greg, that could come later. After she got home.

He thought back to watching her getting ready. She'd been wearing her going-out clothes, sexy but not slutty she called them. In a club, with her friends, she would certainly have attracted male attention. Had she been dancing? Would she be cautious about seeming to pay too much attention to anyone in particular if her friends were there? Maybe she would have to disappear for a while, go for a walk like she did that first time with Carlo.

Assuming that she was actually with her friends, not with Greg.

His phone buzzed. Cassie again? He pulled it out and looked at it. A text from Linda.

hey how's it going?

okay,he wrote back.

who's winning?

Winning? Oh... the basketball game. He did a quick search.

lakers won 96 80

oh,she wrote.too bad

He sent back a shrug emoji.celtics were playing like idiots,he wrote.

There was a pause. He could see the bubbles that meant she was composing a message.

listen, she wrote.i know i said i wouldn't be late but we're really enjoying ourselves. ok if i stay another hour or so?

He stared at the screen. Really enjoying themselves. He swallowed.

of course,he wrote back. He paused.have fun,he added.

thanks, she wrote back. She added a kissy face and then a heart.you really are the best.

After a minute of text silence, he put the phone down on the nightstand.

Fuck, he thought.

*****

Patrick was actually dozing when Linda got home. The bang of the front door woke him and then he heard her voice calling to him from the front hallway. He struggled back to wakefulness. He'd been having a really confusing dream, all about Cassie calling him and telling him that Linda... He propped himself up on his elbows.

"I'm upstairs," he called.

"I'll be right up," she called back.

After a few minutes he heard her footsteps on the stairs. She came in smiling.

Her hair was damp.

"Is it raining?" he asked. His heart was pounding. What was she going to say to him? Was Cassie even telling the truth? Linda looked so... normal. Had she really been out fucking Greg?

"What? Oh just drizzling." She touched her hair. "No biggie."

"Oh," he said.

"I'm just going to take off my makeup and jump in the shower," she told him. "I'm all sweaty and my hair smells like cigarette smoke."

"Were you dancing?"

"It was super fun," she said. She blew him a kiss and went into the bathroom. The door closed behind her.

She needed to shower, Patrick thought. Was it to wash the evidence of sex off her body? Or to camouflage the fact that she had already showered? Or just to freshen up after a fun evening at a nightclub? He could hear her singing softly to herself as she worked on her face. Damn Cassie. If she hadn't called, he would just be lying here anticipating Linda without any worries.

He flopped back on the bed and thrust his hand into his pants, gripping himself.

But what was he worried about? He'd always gotten off on thinking about Linda with other guys. This time she was playing the virtuous wife role, but was that a problem?

The shower turned on. He could get up and surprise her in the shower. Was that what she wanted him to do?

It was fine for Linda to play the role of a faithful wife if that was what she wanted to do. But what role was he supposed to play? Jealous husband? Oblivious spouse?

Grateful cuckold?

Or was the whole thing just one of Casie's tricks and Linda really had been out with her friends?

The shower turned off. Linda was still singing to herself. He heard the shower door sliding back on its track. She'd be out soon. Patrick gave his cock one last squeeze then slowly pulled his hand out of his pants and propped himself back up.

The bathroom door opened and Linda came out. She was wearing the short scarlet Japanese robe and her hair was wrapped in a white towel. Patrick's eyes followed her hungrily.

She went across to her hamper and dumped underwear into it, then to her closet. He could hear hangers jangling. Then she was out again, walking across to the bed, carrying her comb.

"Hey stranger," she said softly. She sat down next to him on the bed and pulled her calves up under her. When she took the towel off her hair and started drying it the fragrance of her shampoo rose off her and engulfed Patrick.

"You have an okay evening?" she asked.

His eyes were still glued to her body. Her arms were raised to dry her hair. There was nothing under the robe, or maybe just a pair of panties. He stirred himself to answer.

"Oh yeah," he said. "It was fine." He paused. "I was actually asleep when you got home."

She looked at him. Her eyelashes fluttered and her mouth curved up. "Oh," she said. "You poor thing. I should have come in more quietly. I guess I had been thinking you might be happy to see me."

"Ha." He rolled towards her and put one hand on her knee. "What did you have in mind?"

Her mouth made a little pucker. "Oh I don't know," she said. "We could just see what we feel like."

"See what comes up?" he asked. He kissed her knee.

She laughed. "Something like that. Now leave me be a moment while I finish my hair."

But he moved up and kissed her thigh, then got up on his knees and put his hands on her shoulders. "Your hair looks fine," he whispered.

She opened her mouth and leaned toward him. His hands pushed the robe backward off her shoulders and down her back. Then his mouth was against hers and his tongue was finding hers. She made a small noise and together they tipped over on the bed, him on top of her. Her arms came up and snaked around his neck.

"I need you," he murmured. His hands were scrabbling at the flaps of her robe, pushing them aside. She wasn't wearing panties underneath it, it turned out.

Is this what she had done with Greg? Just fallen backwards onto a bed with her arms around his neck? Patrick couldn't even really remember what Greg looked like right now, he was just a tall shadowy form with an unpleasant braying laugh. But Linda had said he was attractive. She had certainly gone to bed with him at least once, that night that Patrick had gotten together with Maureen. And probably more times. And again tonight?

He pushed off the bed and got up on his hands and knees, looking down at her. Her lips were open and her eyes were fixed on his, a little dreamy looking, he thought. He stood up and pulled his t-shirt up over his head and tossed it away.