[The Single Man · Me] I had been in this little scene for almost a year without a single real meetup ever happening. It wasn’t for lack of chances — it was bad luck. Every time things got halfway arranged, people would fall through. This young couple were people my wife and I had run into by chance in that shopping district on the south side of town; that night everyone happened to be nearby, so we sat down for a drink, just a first meeting. Later they got stood up by some unreliable single guy, and through all the back-and-forth they ended up closer to us. At the end of the conversation they said there was an idea they had never found the right person for, and asked whether I would come be that single man. I said yes almost instantly.
[The Girlfriend · Her] Before I said yes I hesitated for a long time. I am twenty-one — not exactly experienced — but I know what I want. He, my boyfriend, was curious about all of this earlier than I was; he was the one who first laid the idea out for me. At first I only listened, my face hot as I listened. What really made up my mind was meeting this single man in person that night at the district: he spoke without rushing, his eyes were clean, not like those men who make you want to flee the moment they open their mouth. That little knot of nerves inside me slowly loosened by half.
[The Boyfriend · Him] Honestly, sharing my own girlfriend was something I thought about for more than one night. I love her, and it is precisely because I love her that I have this urge I cannot quite name — wanting to see her lose control under another man, wanting to see the expression she normally shows only to me get drawn out of her, bit by bit, by someone else. This is not a failure to cherish her; it is the opposite. I needed someone I could trust, not just some stranger with a screen name off the internet. This single man was one both of us had nodded to and approved.
[The Single Man · Me] The meetup was set for Saturday afternoon. I started getting ready days ahead, like preparing for a very important date. I bought the snacks she liked, a few bottles of drinks, and deliberately picked out two pairs of stockings — one nude, one sheer black; I remembered she had mentioned in passing during our chats that she liked the feel of black sheers on. We had talked plenty online over those days, from tastes to limits, from the pace we liked to the places off-limits. By the time we actually met, there was really no strangeness left between us.
[The Girlfriend · Her] They lived pretty far from the city, an area where cabs are hard to catch — impossible at night. The single man very naturally said he would just drive out and pick us up. Saturday afternoon I stood downstairs waiting for his car, in a pale sundress, and underneath, the way he liked, I had changed into those black sheers. When the wind blew, the hem clung to my legs and I could feel the faint tightness of the stockings drawn against my skin. When I saw his car turn in, my heart sped up at once, and my palms were slick with sweat.
[The Boyfriend · Him] I got into the front passenger seat; she sat in the back. The moment the car pulled onto the overpass, the mood was different from usual. Not awkward — that kind of heat everyone understands but no one has yet spoken. In the rearview mirror I watched her, head down over her phone, but the tips of her ears were red. Suddenly I was so eager for the hours ahead — eager, and mixed with something sour I did not even want to admit to myself.
[The Single Man · Me] On that stretch out through the outskirts I really could not hold back. When we stopped at a red light I reached back and let my hand land on her knee. Through the layer of black sheer her leg was smooth and warm. I did not rush upward — I just pressed, not too light and not too hard, and felt her whole leg tense for a moment, then slowly relax. She did not pull away. In that instant I knew — this meetup was going to be good.
[The Girlfriend · Her] When his hand landed on me, my whole body froze for a beat. Not resistance — that lit-up kind of nerves. Under the black sheer the warmth of his palm seeped in bit by bit, the pads of his fingers pressing into that softest spot on the inside of my thigh. I stared hard at the streetlights flying past the window, not daring to look at the front seat, not daring to make a sound. But my body was more honest than I was — every inch that hand moved up, my breathing frayed a little more. It turned out that just having my leg touched like this was already this hard to bear.
[The Boyfriend · Him] I did not turn around, but I could tell what was happening in the back seat just from the sound. That low, low intake of breath from her — I knew it too well; that is the one she makes only when she is truly aroused. Strangely, once the sourness in me climbed to its peak, it flipped over into another kind of excitement. I was the one who had brought her here; I was the one who wanted to see her like this. That realization made me both proud and fierce, and my pants were already uncomfortably tight.
[The Single Man · Me] All the way to the hotel in the city we barely made small talk. I had picked up the key card ahead of time; inside, I locked the door behind us, pulled the curtains, and the room held nothing but the warm yellow of the floor lamp. She stood by the bed, both hands folded in front of her, as if she still had not recovered from that fluster in the car. I walked over, said little, and simply reached for the zipper down the back of her dress. However well we had talked those past days, once it came to this step, the pace still had to be set by me.
[The Girlfriend · Her] The moment we were in the room he came straight over to peel off my clothes, and I was genuinely shy right then — telling them about it afterward, I still could not help blushing. The zipper slid all the way to my waist, cool air slipping in down my back, and instinctively I hugged my own arms. But I did not retreat. The dress fell from my shoulders and pooled at my feet, leaving me in only underwear and those black sheers, standing under the light with two men’s gazes covering me at once. That shame burned my cheeks hot, and yet, deep inside, my body went soft and tingling — I did not want to flee at all.
[The Boyfriend · Him] Watching her be uncovered piece by piece by another man, right in front of me, I could not put a name to what I felt. The way she hugged her arms and dipped her head slightly was still the blush-prone girl I knew; but that light in her eyes was one I had never seen in our bedroom. She did not cover herself, generously letting the light and the gazes fall on her body, only shyly. I sat down on the sofa off to the side, making room for them — today, I wanted to watch, and watch well.