Harry sighed heavily while closing the door to the hotel room behind him. He leaned against it as he watched the young woman pace the room and look around, wondering how he was going to let her down easily.
This was a mistake. He never should have agreed to this.
"I can't do this." She suddenly turned to face him after staring at the bed for a long while as if lost in her own thoughts.
Harry straightened up as a huge wave of relief washed over him and made to reply but she went on, agitated. "I'm sorry. I know this must be disappointing, but I just can't go through with it. It's got nothing to do with you, please don't feel bad–"
Harry approached her and let out a light chuckle, "Please, no need to explain yourself. I feel exactly the same. I was struggling to find a way to break it to you myself."
"Wait- really? You're not just saying that?"
He placed his hand over his heart. "Swear to god. And don't worry, it's got nothing to do with you either... I just... Well, as corny as it sounds, I realized what a huge mistake this was. Agreeing to this. I love my wife. We don't need this. I'm sure she must've freaked out by now, too."
"Oh, thank god." The woman clutched the neckline of her shirt and sighed in relief smilingly, the both of them chuckling at the realization they were on the same page about this. "I'm going to call him. I know it's against the rules but like you said, I'm sure he's backing out too by now."
Harry was already dialling his wife's number but his serene expression faded as soon as it went straight to voicemail. "Hm. She must've not turned her phone back on yet. She'll call me back."
"Same here." Harry didn't miss the slight tremble in her hands.
"Hey. It's alright..."
But she kept trying her husband's number again and again and soon she was panicking, pacing the room nervously.
Harry tried his wife's number again, too. Voicemail. He was trying to keep himself in check, and decided to distract himself by reassuring the young woman. "Hey. Let's give it a moment. Let's not jump to conclusions. Come, let's just sit for a bit, we're on edge."
She nodded frantically and sat on the edge of the bed next to the man. She placed the phone in her lap and her forehead in her hands, resting her elbows on her knees and tried to breathe in deeply to calm herself. "Why did I ever agree to this? What if he's actually going through with it?"
Harry placed his own phone next to him on the bed after he double checked it wasn't on silent. He rubbed his face, squeezing his eyes shut. "I didn't want to. She did. It was her idea."
"Same here. He brought it up..."
"The whole way here I kept expecting her to freak out and tell me to turn the car around and go back home. That this was a mistake. That we don't need this. But she never did. If anything, she was giddy. Felt sick the whole time. I tried to hide it from her and not be a spoilt sport because I had agreed to it, after all... I don't think I spoke a word the whole ride here. She didn't even notice."
"I kept expecting him to burst into laughter and tell me he couldn't believe I'd actually fallen for this. That he'd never do this to us, but is proud of me for being so open minded. Kind of like a stupid test I passed that was meant as a cruel joke initially but when I went with it he decided to test my limits. But it never came. When I realized we were getting closer I kept wanting to break down and beg for him to stop the car, turn around, but it's like I was too stunned that this was actually happening to do something. I just froze and watched it all happen. I don't even remember picking the note with your name out of that hat. I was too busy looking at all the women, wondering who was going to have a go at my man–"
Her voice cracked and she began sobbing and Harry hesitantly brought his hand to her back, rubbing it soothingly, trying to console her. She turned to bury her face in his side and he took her under his arm as his own eyes glazed over. He felt pathetic for wanting to cry over it just like she was. He'd agreed to this. It wasn't like he'd found his wife cheating on him in their own bedroom. No, they'd sat down and discussed this, she made sure he was on board 100% over and over, they'd signed up for this and drove all the way up here. He hadn't been forced into it.
...Had he?
The woman pulled away suddenly and excused herself, "I need the bathroom. Think I'm gonna be sick."
Harry stammered something indiscernible as he watched her rush to the ensuite. He couldn't blame her. He'd felt like throwing up the whole way there. But now he felt different. He felt like punching a wall. Breaking something. And he was anything but a violent man.
He clutched the phone angrily, not even bringing it to his ear as he dialled the number again. He watched as it went straight to voicemail again and dropped it to the floor before he could throw it across the room and smash it against the nearest wall. He pressed the heels of his palms deep into his eye sockets, groaning in an effort to reign it in.
He stood up and almost stepped on the phone before kicking it to the curb in his way to the minibar. His wife was clearly preoccupied and wasn't going to be picking up, much less calling him anytime soon. He grabbed an upside down glass from a tray and emptied several mini bottles of vodka in it. By the time the woman reemerged from the ensuite he'd already downed it halfway to what now looked like a decent amount of vodka.
"Are you alright?"
"Yeah. I'm okay, I stuck my face out the window there for some fresh air and managed to keep it down. Can I have some?"
"By all means. Choose your poison."
"I don't care. Make it strong."
She plopped herself back on the edge of the bed and checked her phone again, and Harry rushed with her glass of vodka double before she could try and dial again.
"Thank you."
He watched her try to gulp it down before retching and he couldn't help but chuckle. "Careful, else you'll definitely end up throwing up."
"Ugh. Maybe top it up with coke, is there any?"
"Yeah." He took it back and poured a whole can of lime coke over it before placing the glass back in her trembling hand.
After him sitting back down next to her and both nursing their drinks for a while, she asked in a small voice, "What now? Do we just... wait here?"
"I kind of have to... I drove us here."
"And I don't know how to drive."
"... Another?"
"Yes, please."
After raiding the minibar they were both sufficiently able to ease up a bit. She kicked her heels off and he rolled the sleeves of his cardigan to his elbows. He felt stuffy but didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable and remove it even if he did have a wifebeater underneath. She asked about his tattoos and they tried their best to make idle chit chat in an effort to pass the time. Eventually they both sat against the headboard trying to distract one another with different topics of conversation; the design of the hotel room, the quality of the bed linen, the stain on the carpet by the window, the view, the lack of proper parking space, the inconvenient location of the hotel, the bumpy drive to it, the reception lobby, the way everyone else looked- something neither had noticed, too busy with their inner turmoil.
"What if they landed with eachother, like we did? Should I be worried?"
Harry didn't mind the question. He was sufficiently buzzed to catch her attempt at a joke to further ease up the tension. "Then you're in serious trouble."
"Damn. Is she that much hotter than me?"
Harry shrugged, realizing he hadn't even taken a proper look at her, in an objective manner. He scanned her from head to toe. He couldn't imagine her husband had wanted to do this for lack of attraction. "I didn't mean it as a comparison. But yeah... she's gorgeous," he sounded almost remorseful at the admission. "I'm not used to comparing her to anyone, honestly."
"Yeah. I know what you mean."
"Should I be worried?"
"He's your opposite, I would say. Jet black hair. Deep, brown, eyes. He's more bulky, too, he's a bit of a gym rat."
Harry gasped in mock offence. "Excuse me? I'm pretty ripped myself, you know. Not everyone pumps steroids, some of us really put in the work for these abs."
She laughed, "He does not pump anything. He's just a bigger build than you. Don't worry, I can tell you're fit."
Harry unbuttoned his cardigan and pulled the wifebeater out of his trousers to prove a point, all the same. He patted his stomach and she raised her eyebrows appreciatively, "Oh... okay. Wasn't expecting a six pack, I'll admit."
He covered himself back with a smug smile, it felt nice to be silly for a moment. After a beat, he asked "How about his build...elsewhere?"
She gasped, this time no trace of mockness, then cleared her throat. "He's... Alright, I guess. He's the only man I've been with, so I don't really have a term of comparison. Please don't flash me, though."
Harry laughed a genuine laughter, "Don't worry. Although it would be fairly accurate for a case study, I'm a shower, not a grower." He cleared his throat too, turning a bit serious. "So, he's the only one you've been with and he was just gonna throw that away..."
"I mean, he did throw it away... for all he knows we're in here going at it," and then, in a smaller voice, "just like he is."
Harry kicked off his shoes as well, "Well, Felicity– my wife, that is... she'd been quite, uhm... promiscuous, before we met. In her own words. She's got quite the body count. I would never judge a person by that, honestly, and I just assumed she hadn't found the right person for her until we met. She assured me she was ready to settle down and that I was everything she could ask for in a partner. I did have my reservations, though... after being so casual about sex, I was a bit worried she wouldn't be able to settle for just one man for the rest of her life, but her reassurances put me at ease, and we went through with the wedding. 3 years down the line, though... turns out I was right."
"...That's awful. I'm sorry."
Harry shrugged. "Guess I should be thankful she didn't cheat, at least. This feels like sort of a loophole, a way to go around it guilt-free. She made it sound like we needed it. Like it was old fashioned of me to believe in monogamy anymore, that it was just a social construct of patriarchy when most men cheat anyway, and that this was a healthy, modern way of approaching a functional relationship. She wanted us to open our marriage and when I told her that I didn't want anyone else, she suggested swinging to... see how I feel about it, since I couldn't imagine actively seeking anyone out; so this sounded like a way to test out the waters before we fully jumped into this. But what I couldn't get across to her is that you can't just trial run cheating." He cleared his throat, "Sorry, that was a bit off handed. I understand the concept of an open relationship and why it might work for some, and that it's not cheating if both partners are fully in agreement..."
"Yeah, you're right. I understand why it works for some, too. I'm just... not one of those people. It's not even jealousy, it's so much more than that... I got married thinking this is my person. That it's us, and us alone. I didn't even save myself for marriage or anything, it just so happened that I ended up marrying the first man I slept with. We've been together 7 years, highschool sweethearts and all that... He'd been with a few before me, and I was glad for it, thought it would help avoid this very issue. I wouldn't have liked him feeling like he was missing out on experiencing that with other women and one day feel the need to satisfy that curiosity. So that's why when he sprung this on me... I was shocked, honestly. Swinging? Really? Ugh, I'm sorry... it's like you said. I'm not judging anyone, but it's just not for me. I thought... I actually thought our sex life was good, you know? He led me to believe it was, at least... Guess I'm not as... experienced as other women."
"I seriously doubt it's got anything to do with that. And likewise, I thought our sex life was good too. More than good. I'm honestly all over her all the damn time. And I'm plenty experienced. She never gave me reason to believe I wasn't satisfying her, ever. We're very open about our kinks and curiosities and whatnot. There's nothing she wanted to try out that I said no to, and that's 'cause I genuinely was always on the same page. Except for this. This I'm not ok with, and I tried explaining it to her but it felt like a losing battle if I were to just say no. If I don't agree to this, what then? Cheating? Sneaking behind my back? At least she was honest with me telling me she wanted more... made me feel ungrateful for denying her this when she was so open about it. I talked myself into it because I was too scared of what she might do if I declined."
"Ugh, that's exactly it. That's why I went for it, too... I kept telling myself most women don't get to be asked what their take on this is. At least he was being honest with me... that I'm just not enough... I tried asking him to explore more of his fantasies, anything that he felt he could get from someone else, I wanted to be the one to give to him. But he kept telling me he just couldn't let go and just do all the things he wanted to with me. Apparently he respects me too much."
Harry snorted, "That's rich."
"Right? Like if he wanted to be rougher, degrade me a bit, try kinkier stuff.. he just had to say so. I always wanted that, anyway... but I'm too scared to ask him to do that. It's very... vanilla. I don't blame him for wanting more, but I can't get myself to bring up what I wanna try in the bedroom."
"Oh... okay. Why do you feel you can't tell him? You respect him too much?"
She giggled, "It's not that I can't. It's more that I won't. I don't want to. I want him to take the lead. I want him to..."
"Dominate you?"
"Yeah."
Harry clicked his tongue, humming lowly. They were both quiet for a beat. "Felicity is the opposite. She's the dominant one. It's not that I mind... But I wouldn't say I'm fully submissive... I'm more of a switch. I'd like it to be more of an even playing field, at the very least. Like, I like her taking charge, and I loved it at the beginning because I was used to always being the dominant one in the bedroom, and I was actually looking for someone to put me in my place for a change. But she never lets me take the reins. Whenever I try she just blows me off and makes me feel less than. And then she mistakes my apprehensiveness for submissiveness when I give up. It's something... I haven't really been able to communicate with her either. She should want me to dominate her, you know? Not be talked into it. So I kinda... suppressed that. But even so, I never thought to myself oh cool now I get to be a dom again with someone else. In fact, it didn't even cross my mind until now."
"Hm." After a beat, she asked "What's that like? Is it like... I dunno, actually. Porn? Or those Fifty Shades books?"
Harry snickered a bit but then took in her genuine curiosity. "I mean... I haven't read those books, so I can't speak about that, but from what I've seen in porn, it's definitely not what I would describe as a healthy dynamic. Uhm, porn is catered more to the male gaze, to put it nicely."
She laughed, "I'd say. But I don't like the kind they advertise for women either. It's just too..."
"Vanilla?"
"I guess? Yeah..." she sighed profusely.
"You never see aftercare in dom/sub porn for instance. That's so important. Like, they're leaving out so much. And plenty of other things..."
Harry glanced at her when he thought he heard a faint snore and to his surprise, she had, in fact, fallen asleep. She couldn't have been comfortable, but he didn't dare try and move her or even drape a blanket over her mainly because they were sitting atop the duvet. He gently took the empty glass out of her hand so as to not accidentally turn in her sleep and break it, injuring herself. He left the nightstand lights on and tried to sleep too after retrieving his phone from the other side of the room where he'd kicked it.
No missed calls of course.
He tossed and turned for ages, mindful to keep to the edge of the bed and give his companion space and was certain he wouldn't be able to catch a wink of sleep. He was surprised, to say the least, when he was shaken awake.
"Uhm... I'm sorry, I'm so sorry to wake you–"
Harry rubbed his face and took in his surroundings. He looked at the young woman and took in her dishevelled appearance, it looked like she'd been crying.
"I'm sorry. I'm just... freaking out. I woke up and I can't calm down... I wanna uber home, but I'm scared to ride alone, it's 4 am. Could you please give me your number so I could share my ride location live with you? I didn't wanna ask a friend, no one knows I'm here, doing this, I don't wanna have to explain–"
"Hey, hey... hey. Calm down." He tried soothing her. She was a mess. "I'll drive you home. Don't worry."
"Oh, oh no. I couldn't– Plus, you had a bit to drink..."
"I'm fine. I slept it off. Feels like I'm waking up from the dead, honestly. A drive would do me good, clear my mind a bit. I'll just run to the bathroom and we can head out, alright?"
The woman nodded, fixing her clothes and looking for her shoes as he went to relieve himself. He looked a right mess. He tried not to dwell on it, running his fingers through his hair and splashing some water on his face, and when he emerged from the ensuite she was ready to go.
"Thank you, thank you so much for doing this. Really..."
"It's alright, I promise. Come on. Let's get outta here."
"Gladly."
They made it to his car and she typed in her address into his gps. Harry kept stealing glances at her the whole way; in truth, he was worried about her. She seemed extremely shaken up, more so than originally. "Are you alright?"
"I just... it just hit me, when I woke up with you there, and it all came crashing down, the reality of it. My marriage is over..." her voice cracked and he reached his hand to her thigh, squeezing reassuringly.
"Hey... at least you know how you feel about this, and how he feels about this... If anything, cards are on the table now... Doesn't have to be over if you really don't want it to be. Do you?"
"I don't know what I want... I don't know if I can get over this... Do you?"
Harry felt his heart constrict at the realization that he did know. He'd been denied a lot in their relationship and this had really put things into perspective for him. Not only could he not dominate his wife sexually, something he would've never held against her- after all, he would never force that dynamic on her, he loved her and he'd been ready to bury that facet of his sexuality when he asked her to be his wife. So why couldn't she let go of her need for more? He couldn't even keep her to himself. He felt emasculated, worthless... and most of all, he didn't feel loved, heard, seen.
He parked the car where the young woman instructed and after killing the engine he turned to her "I do. And I think you do, too."
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A/N: 👀 so yeah, introducing swingrry. with all those WIPs somehow i felt the need for another one! this will have a part 2 and then that's it ahahah i'm trying to keep things shorter! hope you guys like it and are intrigued for what's to come ❤️ come talk to me abt it!
thanks to the lovely freedaydreams for betaing! ❤️
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