pit of despair. I have done so many things to please Adam sexually, it’s like a slap in the face that he wants to get off while watching others.
He gives me a soft peck on the lips. “I know this is crazy. But we’ll be married soon. And I just want to…try something really different…just one time. Before we say ‘I do’ and commit to each other forever.”
I’m not exactly sure what Adam means. Worse, I’m afraid to ask. Does he want us to get freaky with some other couple and in the morning pretend it didn’t happen?
Because of Adam’s insatiable appetite for sex, I have done a lot of things that I otherwise wouldn’t have. Things I am embarrassed to admit. From exhibitionist-type sex to sex so kinky it would make my grandmother roll over in her grave, I have done my part to make my man happy. I’m a woman of the new millennium and I’m hardly a prude. But swapping partners—that’s a whole other story.
“We’ll have a drink, watch a little.”
“I’m not screwing some other guy. And I sure as hell don’t want to watch you screw some other woman.”
Adam squeezes my hand. “No, no. That’s not what this is about, sweetheart. This is about us. You and me. About the two of us experiencing all that’s out there before we settle down in marriage.”
“Are you unhappy with me?” I ask, dreading the reality that despite everything I try, I somehow fail to please him.
“No, of course not. You have my heart, and you always will. But we won’t be young forever. I don’t want us to have any regrets.”
“Regret that we never swapped couples?” I ask incredulously.
“I don’t want the day to come when we wish we’d tried something and regret having held back. This is about being open to new experiences.”
I really don’t know what to say to Adam. I’m getting that uneasy feeling, though, the one I get when I think I might lose him.
“I don’t want to be with anyone else,” he assures me. “I just want to watch…then I want to go down on you…”
Brazenly—or perhaps not so brazenly given the environment—Adam slips a hand up my skirt. He strokes me with his thumb, and despite my reservations, I feel a zap of excitement.
“I want to eat you with everyone watching,” he adds in a husky voice. “And then, I want to make love to you.”
I’m not sure about this, not sure at all. No, that’s a lie—I am sure. Sure that I don’t want to do this. But I think about my sister, whose husband left her because he said she was a prude, and I wonder if Adam would leave me over something like this. And if he did leave me because of my aversion to swingers’ clubs, then he’s not really the guy I think he is. But still, we’re engaged. I’ve got a lot invested in my wedding day and I’ll be damned if it doesn’t happen as planned.
“Just one time?” I ask.
His smile is like a neon sign, it’s so friggin’ bright. “One time, baby.”
I sigh softly as I let Adam lead me to a dark corner. And then I rationalize the fact that I’m going along with this: It’s just a crazy fantasy. Once he’s made it a reality, he’ll move on and we won’t have to deal with this again.
Chapter Two
Annelise
I am in the zone.
“Yes! Oh God, yes!” A rush of excitement flows through me and my breathing picks up speed. I love this part—the moment when we are completely in tune with each other. There is a comfort level now, and neither of us is holding anything back. The flow and rhythm is steady, and I am moving rapidly toward the moment of total satisfaction.
I press my finger on the camera’s trigger and snap a round of shots. “Wonderful. Now, get a little closer. That’s right. You love this woman. Let it shine from your soul. Angle your head, Mark.” I glide toward him and guide his head in the direction I want. “Oh, that’s it.” I actually moan my pleasure. “Now hold that pose, and smile.”
I am holding the camera; I prefer this to mounting it on a tripod. I am much freer this way, free to explore different angles. I step backward, then move from left to right until I am satisfied. I look through the viewfinder, adjust the focus and voilà: perfection. The camera loves this couple.
I click off a few more shots of Mark and Robin in yet another perfect pose. I’ve gotten several photos, but I am not quite finished. The next shot will be the moment, the thrilling denouement.
“Turn slightly, both of you. Look at each other. Less of a smile, more of a romantic gaze.” God, there is so much honesty between them. “Yes, that’s absolutely perfect.”
I hold down the trigger and don’t let go until I’ve finished the roll. I was so born to do this. Photography is in my blood.
I lower the camera from my face. “That was great,” I tell Mark and Robin, feeling the high that comes from a great session. “The pictures will be fabulous.”
Robin grins from ear to ear. “You think so?”
“Absolutely. The camera loved you.”
“I can’t wait to see them.” Robin turns to Mark and nuzzles her nose with his.
I watch them for a moment, their happiness giving me a warm feeling in my chest. There’s nothing quite like capturing two people in love on film. I love the way their eyes convey everything that’s in their souls.
This particular couple has recently gotten engaged. That’s why they’re here at my studio—to take pictures they’ll use for an engagement announcement.
That’s also why they’re so openly affectionate. There’s hardly a moment when one isn’t touching the other. Even as they get up from the sofa, their hands are linked. As much as I enjoy seeing happy couples together, a feeling of longing stirs in my gut.
“Can we see the proofs now?”
I shake my head as I place the camera on a table near the set. “Call me old-fashioned, but I’m not a fan of digital photography. When you see physical proofs, you get a much better idea of what your prints will look like.”
Robin nods, but she looks a little disappointed. “How soon will they be ready?”
It has been a busy week at the studio. “Oh, probably around nine or ten days.”
“That long?” She looks from me to Mark in alarm. She is clearly eager to announce her engagement.
“I do offer two rush options. Three days or five.”
“Three,” Robin tells me without hesitation. “We’d like to get the announcement out right away.”
Ah, young love. I try to remember a time my husband and I were so in love. When each hour apart from each other seemed like an excruciating eternity.
The memory is fuzzy, but it’s there. Ten years ago, when we were both in college, before Charles went to law school. There was an easiness between us then. We laughed a lot, joked a lot.
Had a lot of sex.
Forget Charles, I tell myself. I do not want to think about him right now, not when I’m feeling such a high.
So I throw myself back into work, giving Robin and Mark an array of times when they can come back and view the proofs. They decide, pay me a deposit and I see them to the door. Arm in arm, the two descend the studio’s steps. I watch them climb into a BMW, and even give a little wave. It’s the personal touches that keep people coming back.
Once they drive away, I sigh softly and step back into the studio. Despite my desire to cling to my high, now that I am alone, my mood plummets.
It’s