Excited as I was, I knew we’d need one crucial thing before this rather pragmatic tryst could get underway: Leila’s blessing. Leila was a family friend of Kate and, for the past eighteen months, my wife.
It all started when Kate began telling a group of us about her 11-month dry spell at a party at her home. She put a very humorous spin on the cavalcade of socially inept and charmless men she’d been on dates with, but as the tale went on, it became clear that her seemingly inexplicable sex drought was taking a toll.
“It’s really not good for my ego,” said Kate, who I’d always found to be funny, charismatic, talented, and attractive. “I don’t want to let my standards slip, but at this point, I just really just need to get laid.”
“Well, I could help you out with that,” I said, hoping that a cocked eyebrow would indicate to her and the small group of friends surrounding her that my remark was (or at least could be) meant in jest.
My utterance got the flirty courtesy laugh it barely deserved, and then Kate turned her attention to refilling everyone’s wine glasses. So, imagine my surprise when, just 24 hours later, I got a message from Kate that read: “I’ve been thinking about your offer. If you’re serious, I’ll take you up on it.”
“Do you know that Kate hasn’t had sex for nearly a year?” I said to Leila, who wasn’t able to attend the party. “Wow, that really is a long time,” she said.
“Right?” I continued. “ So…I was wondering what you thought of me helping her scratch the itch.”
“You mean have sex with her?” she said. “With Kate? Oh, I don’t know…”
“C’mon, why not?” I asked. “Look, she knows I’m crazy about you. I’m a safe subject. It’ll be like a sleepover, really.”
“Aside from all the sex,” Leila added.
She was smiling now; amused, maybe even excited by the idea. “I think it would be a really nice thing for us to do for a friend,” I said. “She needs to get her mojo back.”
I wasted little time telling Kate, who seemed thrilled. So thrilled, in fact, that I felt compelled to remind her that it was just little old’ me she’d be spending the night with, and not Idris Elba. But then, 11 months is a very long time. Kate ever organized put our “cheat-cute” on the calendar and, two days prior, I checked in to make sure she was still game.
“Are you kidding me?” she answered. “I can barely stop thinking about it.”