Chapter 10 - Crossroads

The cafe is bustling, filled with the clatter of dishes and the hum of conversation, but the corner booth where Marcus sits feels oddly secluded. He greets me with a warm smile, and I slide into the seat opposite him, my stomach churning.

“So ... everything alright with you two?”

Alright? The words feels absurd right now.

How the hell am I supposed to answer that?

“Right now ... yeah, everything’s ... okay,” I say, my voice wavering. “It’s just ... weird, you know? All of this...”

He chuckles. “I get it. That’s a completely normal reaction, Mike. Honestly. And listen,” he added, his gaze earnest, “I just wanted to say, Emma ... she’s an incredible woman. You’re a lucky man.”

Lucky? Is he actually thanking me? For what? For letting my wife...?

I don’t know how to respond, so I remain silent, fiddling with the sugar packets on the table, my gaze darting around the cafe.

A beat of silence hangs between us before Marcus continues, “I’m really glad everything’s okay with you two. I knew from the first time we met, you and Emma had a strong relationship. Honestly, that was half the reason I felt comfortable even discussing any of this with you.”

He is so damn casual about it, like we are discussing a ball game or something. My head is spinning.

“You still seem a little off, Mike.” He leans forward, his gaze intent. “Something else bothering you?”

“No, no, it’s just ... confusing, that’s all,” I stumble over the words. “It’s like, no matter how I think about it, it doesn’t make any damn sense.”

Marcus nods, a knowing look in his eyes. “That’s understandable. It’s a lot to process. My door is always open, Mike, if you need to talk. About anything.”

Talk? The idea is absurd. How could we possibly talk about this? But something else has been bothering me since that night, so I decide ask about it.

“The thing is, I didn’t ... I mean, when you said you’d make a move, I didn’t think you meant ... spilling the beans to Emma. You know? About everything.”

“Is there a problem with that?”

“No, not really. It’s just ... not what I expected.”

He sighs, leaning back in the booth, his shoulders slumping slightly. “Listen, Mike, different people get off on different things. I’ve met couples into some truly bizarre shit.”

“More bizarre than this?”

“Oh, you have no idea,” he chuckles softly. “People are ... creative.”

He falls silent for a moment, as if choosing his next words carefully.

“But with Emma...” he says finally, his tone thoughtful, “I could tell, that it wasn’t just about the physical stuff, though I’m sure that was part of it. For her...” He meets my gaze, his expression serious. “For her, it was a big thing that you were into it.”

“Is that so?” I say, the words coming out flat, emotionless.

My mind struggles to process this information, to reconcile it with the image of Emma on her knees, her mouth stretched wide, her eyes glazed with a lust that seemed, at least in that moment, solely focused on him.

“It is, Mike.” he leans forward slightly. “She was getting into it for the very reason you were getting off on it. I could tell. I’ve seen it in other women. A lot of women ... they need that permission, that ... that validation, you know? To let go, to really embrace their desires. Especially when it’s something ... outside the norm.”

I don’t respond. I don’t know how to respond.

“It wasn’t until I told her how you felt, what you wanted ... that she really let go,” he continues. “And for you ... well, I figured it was seeing Emma, you know, let loose a little, embrace that side of herself. Honestly, I thought it solved all the problems.”

But he makes it all sound so cut and dried, like he has me and Emma all figured out. But the truth is, I still am not sure what I want, let alone what she wants.

“And for you?” I ask, the words escaping before I can stop them. “What do you get out of it?”

Marcus grins. “Come on, Mike. You know the answer to that.”

He’s right. It’s a stupid question.

Marcus studies me for a beat, his gaze intense, but there’s a gentleness in his expression that takes me by surprise.

“So,” he says finally, his voice soft, cautious, “Was it ... how you imagined?”

“What?”

“I mean...” he clarifies, “did you ... have fun? Did you enjoy it?”

Did I? My mind goes blank.

It isn’t like I hadn’t been sporting a raging boner the whole time. And since that night, the scene had been replaying on a loop in my head: Emma on her knees, Marcus feeding her his cock, that bulge in her throat...

“Everything in me is screaming no,” I admit, my voice strained. “But ... I can’t deny ... watching her like that ... it was...” I struggle to find the right words. “I got a huge kick out of it.”

The right words evade me, the sheer intensity of the experience, the complex mix of emotions too overwhelming to articulate.

“It was hot,” I finally manage, the confession leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. “Fucking hot.”

Marcus’s face relaxes into a wide grin. “That’s great, man! That’s what I figured.” He leans back in his seat, a look of genuine satisfaction in his eyes. “You know, a lot of couples fantasize about this kind of thing, but they’re too scared to actually try it. It takes guts to break out of that box, you know? And honestly? I think it can be really liberating. You tap into something primal, something ... real.”

He takes a sip of his coffee, his gaze meeting mine. “Look, I know it’s not for everyone. It’s not exactly ... traditional. Right?” He chuckles softly. “But if it works for you, if it brings you closer ... then does it really matter?”

I just sit there, absorbing his words. Is he right? Is this whole crazy thing actually bringing us closer?

His words echo Sheila’s sentiment from earlier, and the thought sends a chill down my spine.

Is this ... is this normal? Are we just another couple exploring our desires, pushing the boundaries of what’s acceptable, or are we teetering on the edge of something destructive, something that will ultimately tear us apart?