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He closed his eyes, reveling in her body, warm and sweet, as it rocked against his. Most of their sexual interactions involved time and planning, even when they were alone. They preferred to make it explosive if they could and almost always used the basement because there was so much stimulation and things to choose from down there.

Spontaneous sex was rare.

Pete felt a need for her like he never had before. It was like Emma was trying to tell him something he couldn’t quite grasp. His chest felt tight. He rose up, rolling her onto her back, taking her mouth, and began to thrust deeply. He pumped hard. After a moment he broke the kiss and flexed his arms so he hovered above her, spreading her legs wider so his cock fit tightly against her core with every thrust.

He wanted every part of himself inside her.

She moaned beneath him, her nails biting into his ass, forcing him to go faster. But she didn’t say a word, her face angled away from his.

Her silence affected him. She was always tender during their lovemaking, whispering sweet words in his ear.

“I love you,” he told her. “You know that, don’t you?”

In answer, she threaded her fingers through his hair and cried out his name as she came.

2

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“That’s fantastic, Miranda! If you keep practicing that, you’ll be ready for the show in no time. I’ll see you next week.” Emma waved to the last child as the little girl left the studio with her mother.

Emma was tired, but she felt invigorated. Teaching always made her feel that way. Dancing was her life, and Emma loved her job. Being able to teach grade-school children had become her passion.

She walked toward a door on the other side of the studio and entered her office, which doubled as the wardrobe room when they had performances, among other things. She sat down on a bench and began to unlace her dance shoes so she could change into her street clothes. She glanced at the clock on the wall. She was on time to meet Piper for a drink. Emma had texted her this weekend and asked her to meet ahead of the block party happy hour, which was in two days. Piper had graciously agreed.

Emma readied herself quickly and slung her purse over her shoulder. As she locked up, she thought about all the things she wanted to talk to Piper about. Emma needed her advice. She’d been happy when Piper had agreed to meet her without the other girls. Emma wanted to talk privately first, before she shared her issues with the group. She absolutely loved being included in Piper’s inner circle. The STD happy hours, which stood for Sexual Therapy for Deviants, were the absolute best. The girls got together regularly and discussed sex, and subsequently laughed until their sides hurt. These meetings were one of the best things to happen to Emma in a long time. They were a blessing, really. She knew Caroline and Gillian would be eager to contribute their own advice, and Emma was looking forward to it.

When you chose to live in the “lifestyle,” it was isolating. The topic never came up in casual conversation with anyone.

For obvious reasons.

If parents of her students ever found out she was a “swinger,” for lack of a better term, she could lose her business in a heartbeat. This lifestyle, to lots of folks, was considered perverted. Many would think that Emma’s “sexual deviation” would somehow trickle down to their children through some kind of unseen osmosis. It was a completely uneducated view of sex, and love as a whole, but there was nothing Emma could do about it except keep quiet around anyone but her friends.

Emma had embraced herself and her choices long ago, and had lived in the lifestyle happily until recently. Being able to talk to Piper, Caroline, and Gillian about her new indecisions was like breathing in new air.

She made the quick drive over to The Brick House, a local bar that served specialty pizza. Piper had suggested it, and Emma had readily agreed. Pizza was one of her faves.

When she pulled in she spotted Piper’s car already parked in the lot and smiled. Emma got out, locking her car as she went with the handy fob, and headed toward the entrance.

Piper was seated at a high table in the bar with two drinks already in front of her. She slid off her stool, giving Emma a quick hug. “Dude, it’s two-for-one for the next fifteen minutes. You have to get your order in.” Piper effortlessly hopped back on her barstool. “Beer and rails. I took the liberty of ordering us a small deep-dish pizza and some cheesy garlic bread. They were both on the happy-hour menu, and the waitress said the pizza was killer.”

“Anything is fine with me. That sounds perfect.” Emma took her seat, looping her purse around the hook on the wall next to her. “I’m so glad you could meet me tonight. Thanks for coming on such short notice.”

“Of course,” Piper answered, her face happy and radiant as usual. “You sounded kind of distressed, so I made it a top priority.”

“You picked that up over texts?” Emma chuckled. “That’s fairly intuitive of you.”

“It wasn’t that hard. You must’ve said ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ four different times in as many texts. What’s up?” Piper asked as she picked up her glass.

“Nothing and everything,” Emma said, trying not to sound too miserable. “It’s probably just me going through some PMS thing, but I’m feeling unhappy and uncertain in my sex life. Seeing you so utterly transform your relationship with Michael has been an amazing thing to witness, and subsequently it’s caused me to do a lot of soul searching in my own marriage—in a good way. It’s highlighted the positives, but also the negatives.”

“So we’re here to discuss those negatives?” Piper set her glass down. “You’ve hinted at being unhappy before. And I was right there with you, not so long ago. I understand where you’re at, even without hearing all the details, and I can tell you right now, I’m advocating for you to change things up. If you can, the payoff will be sweeter than you know. This lifestyle is a hard act to balance, and we don’t always want the status quo, and it’s okay to change our minds. Sometimes we’re just searching for a different flavor. Or a cookie instead of a cracker. That’s my favorite analogy to date. A big, fat Double Stuf Oreo instead of a dry wheat cracker.”

“That’s just it.” Emma leaned forward, her hands gripping the edge of the table. “I don’t know what I want or how to shake things up. That’s why I’m here. I’m kind of in this wallowing stage. I know I’m unhappy, but I don’t exactly know why. Pete and I have been doing the same things for years, and it’s never bothered me before—”

“Can I ask you something?” Piper interrupted. “Do you love Pete?”

“Yes! Of course I do!” Emma felt almost taken aback by the question. “He’s my person, there’s no question about it. He’s my tall, blond surfer boy. I salivate every time I see him. That’s why this is so hard! I love him with all my heart and I want to stay married. I enjoy our life together—yet lately there’s something lacking. But it’s that something I can’t put my finger on. That’s why I wanted to talk to you about it first, before I share it with everyone else. I know the other girls are going to be eager to help, and I’m sure they’ll give me great advice. But when I can’t even articulate what I need, it doesn’t make sense to share it with the group. I’d just sound like a bigger bumbling idiot than I do right now.”

“You’re not an idiot.” Piper picked up her drink and swirled it. “From what you just said, decision number one is an easy one: Stay married to Pete at all costs. That helps the direction you need to head in. If you weren’t happy with Pete, and wanted to explore other avenues, this would be a much different conversation. And I totally get wanting to talk to me alone. You’re a private person, Emma. There’s nothing wrong with that. But in order for you to figure out what you need, you’re going to have to step out of your comfort zone a little bit and do some more soul searching. I predict you’re not going to love everything you find. Do you think you’re ready for that?”