by Donna Jay
***
The following morning, it took Julie a few minutes to orientate herself. She reached for Yvonne and felt nothing but cool sheets. The sheer size of the bed reminded her they weren’t at home.
She scooted sideways and rested a hand on Yvonne’s hip as thoughts of the previous night filtered into her consciousness.
She nudged Yvonne. “You awake.”
“Yep.” Her eyes remained shut.
“Please tell me we didn’t do what I think we did.” Julie could blame it on a number of things; too much alcohol, a sexy stripper, lack of food. But they were all a cop-out.
“We did.” Yvonne rolled onto her side.
“Fuck, what were we thinking?”
“That it’d be hot.” Yvonne tucked her hand under her cheek.
“Why are you smiling?” The consequences of their actions could be catastrophic.
“Relax. We haven’t done anything, yet.”
Last night, drunk on lust and wine, when Yvonne had said, “Let’s do it, find someone to have a threesome with.” Julie had happily gone along.
An hour later, they had a profile on a dating site. Were they insane? Time would tell.
“I can’t remember what we even wrote.”
Images of them rolling around laughing while trying to come up with usernames skidded through Julie’s mind. Her alias was simple. Juliet. Easy to remember.
Coming up with a name for Yvonne had been a different story. Vonn was Julie’s pet name for Yvonne so that was out. Yvonne hated being called Roni so that was out too. They finally settled on Veronica.
She climbed out of bed and picked up the empty pizza box. Maybe they should’ve ordered food earlier. “I blame Sarah,” Julie said.
Yvonne propped herself up in bed, long, auburn hair flowing around her shoulders. “Why? She helped make the night a success. Wine, snacks, rose petals…” She plucked one off the bedspread.
“Stripper?” Julie pulled two mugs out of the cupboard and ripped open complementary coffee sachets. “Are you sure you weren’t in on that part?”
“Me?” Yvonne stabbed herself in the chest.
Okay, that was a silly thing to ask. The look of shock on Yvonne’s face when the officer had arrived couldn’t be faked.
“I wonder what Sarah was thinking. I mean, we’ve been together twenty years. You’d think she would’ve pulled something like that before now.”
“Well, it is the first time she’s known our room number, and I guess since I told her…”
When the room fell silent, Julie turned. Was that guilt she saw in her eyes.
“Since you told her what?”
“Nothing.” She shook her head, looking away.
“No way, no how.” Julie crossed back to the bed. “If we’re going to do this, we need to be as open and honest with each other as we can.”
A snort huffed out of Yvonne. “Sarah has nothing to do with this…this, whatever it is we’re doing.”
“Maybe not, but she had everything to do with the stripper.” And the chain reaction that caused. Some of the hottest sex they’d ever had, too much wine, and creating a dating profile.
Yvonne bit her lip. “You’re right, and to answer your initial question, I may or may not have told her we were having problems in the bedroom.”
If she thought Julie was going to be upset, she was wrong. Everyone needed a friend and Julie was happy Yvonne had someone she could talk to. Considering the problem in the bedroom wasn’t due to her lack of libido, it wasn’t like she had anything to feel embarrassed about. Or did she? The thought slammed into her like a freight train.
“You didn’t tell her about what you thought you saw, did you?” She finger quoted the word.
The crestfallen look on Yvonne’s face told her all she needed to know. She had.
“I’m so sorry. My head was so messed up I had to talk to someone. And if it makes you feel any better, she doesn’t think any less of you. In fact, she laughed at me, told me to get my head out of my arse and talk to you.”
“Good advice.” Julie couldn’t be angry.
Sarah was far from judgemental and significantly more open-minded than Yvonne. Considering how opposite they were in many regards, it was a strange friendship. But the powerful bond between them was unmistakable.
It was something Julie didn’t have, a confidant. Her job was solitary, and her closest friends had pretty much moved away.
“Should we take a peek at the app?” Yvonne asked tentatively.
“Hell, yes.” Julie snatched the iPhone out of her hand. She held a finger up. “First, open communication all the way. If something feels off, or you have a change of heart, you have to promise to say something, okay? I won’t be upset or disappointed.”
“Okay.” To be honest, she probably would be disappointed now that they’d set the ball rolling, but she’d get over it.
Nothing, least of all sex with someone other than her wife, was worth risking her marriage for.
“I promise. Same goes for you.”
She stuck out her finger. “Pinky promise.”
Yvonne linked fingers. “Pinky promise. Now open the app or give me my phone.”
Her heart skipped a beat when she saw they already had two messages. It had been less than twelve hours since they signed up.
Julie clicked the first message and groaned. “I wonder if Tom thinks we’re slutty little pussies who will stick our tails in the air for any Tom cat.”
The bed jiggled when Yvonne slid off, gathering up clothes. “Hit delete.”
“That would be rude, let’s at least read it. Then he can see it’s been read and hopefully take our non-reply as not interested.
“Fine, go ahead.”
She clicked on the message, shrieked, and tossed the phone across the bed. “Ugh.” Julie screwed her eyes shut. That made the image worse. “I need brain bleach.”
“You’re such a drama queen.” Yvonne scrambled for the phone.
“No, don’t.” Julie pushed her aside like a mother saving a child from danger. “You’ll be scarred for life.” She nudged the phone with her toe.
The huge grin on Yvonne’s face helped her see the funny side. “You threw the phone so fast I didn’t even get to see what he wrote. Did he try to lure us to the other side? Offer to show us how good he was with his mighty sword?”
“Thank goodness you didn’t call it a flag pole. Or his meat stick.”
“Ew, stop.” Yvonne screwed up her face.
“You didn’t see it.” Julie blinked hard, trying to erase the image.
“What?” Yvonne’s eyes went wide, and this time she looked sick. “Ew, you mean he sent a picture of his, of his…”
“Junk?”
“Lalalalalah.” She plugged her ears. “I said stop.”
“Grinning, Julie reached for the phone and thrust it at Yvonne. “Your phone, you delete it.”
“No.” Yvonne recoiled. “I need a new phone.”
Squinting at the screen as if the picture might jump out at her again, Julie clicked delete message, relieved when the image didn’t open.
The next message was from a guy, too. Ugh, this wasn’t going to be as easy as they first thought.
“Should I read it or just hit delete?”
“Why would you read it? Hell, why look at the first one?”
“Because I’m curious.”
“Well you know how that saying goes.”
“Meow.” Julie held up her fingers like claws.
“Hurry up, Romeo. We have to be out of here by ten.”
Listening with half an ear, Julie read the next message. “Hi, I love MiLFs. Would you consider a younger guy?”
His comment was comical. Julie shook her head. She also made a mental note to read profiles properly before sending a message. The guy could’ve saved himself the bother.
“Well?” Yvonne prompted, halfway to the bathroom, clothes tucked under her arm.
“He’s looking for a MiLF, or in our c
ase, two. I guess we should be flattered.”
There was that. She’d never been approached by someone twenty-seven years her junior. Brenda was twenty years younger, and that was pushing the limits of how young they’d go.
Sure many younger women had better bodies, but personality made a person shine. Plus, they hoped to find someone with a little experience, someone who could help guide them and respect their boundaries.
A deep crease formed between Yvonne’s eyebrows. “Did you hear me?”
“Sorry.” She shook her head. “What was the question?”
“What’s a Mill?”
“MiLF.” Julie bit back a smile, anticipating Yvonne’s reaction. “Mum I’d Like to Fuck.”
Her mouth opened and closed several times. She stomped her foot, huffed out a breath, and tried again. “By the time I get out of the shower, you better tell me you’ve found a setting to block men.” She looked at the ceiling then back to Julie. “And anyone under the age of forty. I don’t want to… to…”
“Say it.” Julie grinned.
“Fuck—” Her cheeks turned crimson but a small smile danced across her lips. “I don’t want to fuck anyone young enough to be our daughter.”
“Or our son?” That earned her a glare.
Thankfully, by the time Yvonne emerged from the bathroom, shower fresh, pink glow to her cheeks, Julie had managed to set up some contact rules. Only women could contact them, and only those listed between the ages of forty and sixty. Of course they could lie, but it was a start.
“Here. You should be safe.” She handed Yvonne her phone and pecked her on the cheek. “I won’t be long.”
When she emerged from the bathroom, Yvonne was grinning from ear-to-ear. She dangled her phone in front of Julie. “We have a new message.”
Her smile was encouraging. “And?”
“I’ll read it to you. ‘Hi, my names’ Karen—'”
“Hi, Karen. I’m Juliet.”
“Shush.” Yvonne scowled. “I live in Levin but will be in Palmy for work next week. Let me know if you’d like to meet up. See if we click.”
Any jokes Julie might have made died in her throat. This was real. She slumped on the end of the bed. “Shit. What do you want to do?”
“What do you mean? We signed up to meet people, what’s the question?”
“You’re really fine with this.”
Yvonne sat next to her. She took Julie’s hand in her own.
“The funny thing is, now that I know we’re going to do this, I’m no longer worried you might sleep with someone else.”
“If we do this, I will be sleeping with someone else.” Julie wanted to be very clear about that. She didn’t mind watching, found it hot even, but if Yvonne was going to get in on the action, she damn well better be too.
“I know, and the fact we’re doing this together makes it special, somehow.” She shook her head. “There’s something I never thought I’d say.”
“You and me both.” Julie pulled her close, breathing in her shower fresh scent. “Ask Karen if she’s single, I’m not ready for a foursome.”
“Good point.”
Five minutes later, they were packed and ready to head home. Julie gave the hotel room a final once over to ensure they hadn’t left anything behind. Her heart expanded in her chest when her gaze landed on the satin scarf hanging from the headboard. She pulled it off and tucked it in her pocket like a memory she’d treasure forever.
Their fifth wedding anniversary was a night she’d never forget. Hot spa, hot loving, hot stripper, hot wife. What more could a woman want?
Once they arrived home, Julie downloaded the dating app to her own phone. A quick check of their messages showed they had one new message. It was from Karen, the woman they messaged before leaving the hotel.
Her nonchalant reply made Julie sick to her stomach.
“Why so glum?” Yvonne eyed her curiously; laundry basket propped on her hip.
“Karen replied.” Julie read the message. “No, not single. Is that a problem?”
“Perhaps her wife knows she’s looking for a lover.”
Giving her the benefit of the doubt, Julie asked the question. “Does she know?”
In the pit of her stomach, she knew the woman was cheating, otherwise why not disclose she had a partner in the first place. The thought was depressing.
Two seconds later her suspicions were confirmed.
“Of course she doesn’t know, and if she put out more often I wouldn’t have to look for sex elsewhere. Know what I mean?”
No, Julie didn’t. Mismatched sex drives was no excuse for cheating.
Sighing, she tossed her phone aside, wondering what the hell they’d signed up for. While preparing dinner, her thoughts continued to run amuck, until she finally had an epiphany.
She had a good life, an amazing wife, a job she loved, a mother she adored, in other words, her life was full. If they did luck upon a suitable person it would be a bonus, but it certainly wasn’t a necessity.
With that decided, her mood immediately perked up.
Chapter 16
Later that night, while Julie was filling up the wood box on the back porch, Yvonne fired off a text to Sarah.
‘Thanks for your help, but geez, woman, what were you thinking?’
She absently patted Ginger, waiting for a reply. He’d barely left her side since they’d walked in the door at eleven o’clock that morning.
They’d made a quick stop at Julie’s mums on the way home, and she’d surprised them with a beautiful silver candlestick holder for their wedding anniversary. She’d been quick to inform them she wasn’t completely behind with the times, and silverware was the modern symbol for a fifth anniversary.
Her phone rang, startling her out of her daze. Smiling, she answered it, “0-800 stripper-gram, how may I help you?”
“Please send a stripper, you know the address.”
“Male or female?” At least that was something Sarah hadn’t had to ponder.
“Male.”
“How is that fair on Neil?” Yvonne scrunched up her face.
“Oh, please. He’s seen plenty of strippers. It’s only fair I—”
“Really?” Yvonne cut her off. “You just let him go to strip clubs?” She couldn’t imagine Julie going to a strip club, with or without her.
“Stop deflecting. How’d it go?”
“How’d what go?” Yvonne played dumb.
“Well, considering you’re still talking to me, I’m assuming the stripper had the desired effect.”
“What effect was that?”
“You know exactly what I mean, so spill.”
Picturing the huge smile on Sarah’s face, Yvonne played along. “You really want me to spell it out?”
“Yep, go on, show me how far you’ve come, my prudie little friend.”
“Prudie?” Yvonne huffed out a breath, “Is that even a word?”
“I could call you a prune, but I don’t think you’re that dried-up yet.”
“No, I’m not. I’m not a prude either. And, yes, I got laid…more than once.”
“Ah-ha, perfect.”
“Are you clapping?” She pictured Sarah with her phone propped on her shoulder, clapping her hands in the air, a huge grin splitting her face.
“Maybe. Hey, Neil,” her voice rose in pitch. “Yvonne got laid.”
Just then, Julie came walking into the living room. “Who are you talking to?”
“Sarah.”
“Oh, hey, Sars. Thanks for last night.”
“You’re welcome.” The smile in Sarah’s voice was unmistakable.
“She said you’re welcome,” Yvonne informed Julie in case she didn’t hear Sarah.
“She also told Neil I got laid,” she said to Julie.
“Three times,” Julie announced proudly, speaking into Yvonne’s phone.
Clenching her jaw, Yvonne covered the mouthpiece. “Shut up. That’s our business.”
“Says the woman who told he
r best friend our business.” The cocky grin Julie shot her was as charming as it was infuriating.
“By the sound of that, your mid-life crisis has worked out for the best,” Sarah said.
“I wouldn’t call it a mid-life crisis.” Although perhaps it was, because they’d definitely hit a turning point in their relationship.
“Tea?” Julie mouthed, exiting the room when Yvonne nodded. A cup of sweet tea was just what she needed. How was it possible to drink all night and wake up thirsty?
“Well, whatever it was, you sound happy.”
“I am, and I mean it, thanks for everything.” Sarah was her constant, her best friend, her sounding board, the sister she never had. Since the day they’d met in primary school, they’d been practically inseparable.
***
Over the following week, messages on Find Someone were few and far between. Lame one-liners, like ‘Hi, I’m into the same thing as you’, went ignored.
If someone couldn’t take the time to introduce themselves online, they didn’t deserve their time, and they definitely didn’t deserve to be allowed into their marital circle.
They were listed under the category of sexual meetings, but that didn’t mean they were willing to drop their knickers for anyone. They were in no hurry, and when push came to shove, they still didn’t know if one or the other would back out.
By Thursday, Yvonne had stopped obsessively checking the phone app. Julie had the same app, so they could both check their messages.
One of them could send a lewd message and delete it so the other didn’t know, but Yvonne was past worrying Julie might sleep around without her.
“Hey.” Julie plopped down next to her on the sofa.
She wore a black T-shirt, faded jeans, no shoes. Since the arrival of spring, they no longer needed the fire burning every night. Yvonne missed the ambience, but not as much as she loved the warmer weather.
“Have a read, this one sounds nice.” Julie handed her phone to Yvonne.
‘Hi, Veronica and Juliet. I’m Daphne.’
The memory of deciding their ‘code names’ made Yvonne smile. She turned to Julie. “What do you think Daphne’s code for?”
A shrug. “Diane?”
Possible. Then again, it could be anything, even her actual name. She continued to read.
