Sometimes It Takes Three To Tango

I got married right out of college, because that's why I had gone to college, to find a husband. I was not quite 23. I was a girl who had saved herself for marriage and had no physical experience prior to meeting my husband. What I had was years of fantasies and make believe. My role model, my mother, was cold and distant and she was not an affectionate person. My father is a lawyer, and he worked long hours. I spent a lot of time in my fantasy world.

I met my husband through a friend, and I suppose I proposed to him. He was ambivalent, but played along with my fantasy. He did say one thing, which at the time went over my head. He told me that in his life there was one man, and one woman. And that he did not want to come home to another man.

We got married in a small ceremony with some friends and family. A friend of mine, who worked the front desk of a nice hotel, gave us a night at the hotel as our wedding g*ft. The reception was a dinner at a small restaurant, and around eleven I was with him, with my suitcase, and he took me to my honeymoon suite. All of a sudden I was alone with him, and he wanted me naked. I wasn't shy, I was all of a sudden terrified, and I locked myself in the bathroom.

That was our honeymoon night. My husband went down to the bar and met a woman there and brought her up to the honeymoon suite and had sex with her while I was locked in the bathroom. The woman was a professional, and she gave him his honeymoon night as a g*ft. She knocked on the door of the bathroom and said I could come out now, she had serviced my husband.

Of course the honeymoon disaster was not public knowledge. My husband had his choice of women (an open marriage) and I remained a virgin. I didn't care who he was with, it didn't matter to me, I never met any of these women, but I did know that many of them were professional women who did it for the money.

On the outside we were married, he worked a job with responsibilities, and I worked a job in general ledger. At his job were all the hot tempered men who were going somewhere, and at my job were all the quiet women. Most of the women were married, and it was not uncommon to have one of them tell me of what her husband had done to her. There was no fantasy in this world. At work I met this girl T, who was an only child of an older military man and a Mexican woman. She came to my house that Saturday to teach me how to make Tamales. I was 28 that Saturday, it was my birthday.

My husband kissed her. He was a wolf and she was his dinner. He picked her up, she is a small woman, and carried her with his hands under her armpits to the bedroom, tossed her on the bed and had sex with her. He wasn't going to be denied that afternoon, and I was next, no different than T, the wolf had having dinner. HE left us both to lick our wounds and cry over our lost virginities. After preparing his dinner, he had T again for his desert, and had me again in the morning. I went with T to her apartment to change and bring clothes over. My husband wasn't done with us, now things were on his terms. We were left to face him together and he had his pleasure.

Why this didn't bother us is still the mystery. It just did not bother us. He adopted T to live with us and he took full advantage of her living there. I had never seen that look in his eyes when he took T and tore into her. Or that look in his eyes when he took me for the same reason. Some many months later we both expecting.

After that Saturday he quit seeing women outside the marriage and he focused on T and me. We were now on his plate, for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Whatever hesitation I had was gone, he was welcome to us as he saw fit. And T and I, we deliver ourselves to him together.