Chapter Six #2
“Is this the type of wedding you want?” she asked.
Her question surprised me, and I sat forward.
“Umm, no, not necessarily,” I admitted.
I felt awkward admitting out loud just how appalling I found the idea. A fairytale wedding was every woman’s dream, wasn’t it? I didn’t want to deprive her of that if it’s what she really wanted.
“Carlo’s parents are on the list,” she said.
Her acceptance and understanding of Carlo reminded me in six words why she’d captured my heart so securely.
“If they go, Carlo won’t. Will he?”
“No, unlikely,” I confirmed.
“Spence. An occasion like this would be amazing. I’m sure the wedding planner, Victoria London-Hewish,” she said the name in a pompous sounding tone that raised a smile, “is extremely proficient with organizing these events, but I’d be shitting myself to have ‘Hello Magazine’ photographing my every move. ”
A sudden rush of love for her consumed my brain.
“Christ, I love you,” I admitted, relaxing back in my chair. “Whatever happens, Miss Jones, never leave me. I’ll undoubtedly fuck-up repeatedly, but you’ll never find another man to love you more than I do.”
She laughed, and the sound made me feel epic.
“I have no knowledge about marriage licenses abroad, but how about we get married in Naples, at Nonna’s lemon grove?” she suggested. “I love it there. Carlo might have some contacts through the Rome Hotel, who could help with the catering and stuff.”
As she spoke, my mind buzzed with visions of my bride standing under the bougainvillea-covered pergola. The dark magenta flower and bright blue sky contrasted perfectly against her blond hair and fair skin.
My nostrils filled with the scent of citrus, warming me, and reminding me of home.
“Nicky and I can try to organize the rest,” she prattled on in the background.
Her excited words dusted over me, soothing my soul. This woman was perfect for me.
“It won’t be fancy, but it will certainly be beautiful, and we can invite the guests we want to attend.”
Our day was perfect. It was everything I’d ever dreamed of, and saying my vows with my two favorite people in the world by my side gave me a sense of calm I’d not been familiar with until Sophie came into my life.
Even my parents seemed to enjoy the relaxed atmosphere of the day—once Mum got over her tizzy about not having a grand party, she loved the setting, which gave us the most incredible photographs.
Sophie’s suggestion that we offer Mum a few images of our choosing, taken by our own photographer, for Hello Magazine, was the final olive branch Mum needed to build bridges with her.
We left on a blissful honeymoon, not realizing the storm that was brewing at home.
Carlo waited for us to return to London after our honeymoon to announce that he was being transferred to the Rome hotel.
He observed me as he explained his reasoning. He feebly claimed to miss the heritage of his birthplace—which we were both aware was utter bullshit.
His departure seemed like the end of an era. If I’d believed his excuse, perhaps I’d have felt differently. But seeing him leave, knowing he’d be alone, hurt.
Perhaps because of my sadness, or maybe because of his own, Carlo solemnly promised he’d be home regularly; as Sophie and I held him on our last night together, it was a relief to hear he wasn’t severing our connection entirely.
Though when he returned to England a couple of weeks later and asked us to join him on the couch because he had an announcement, Sophie and I were both shocked to the core.
“Travis has invited me to go with him to a sex club this weekend,” he said.
Until this point, the three of us had been monogamous for over three years. Carlo abstained from having other partners. This wasn’t something we discussed, but perhaps because we didn’t use condoms together, Carlo never strayed.
Both Sophie and I sat staring at him.
My mind buzzed with a noise I couldn’t block out. Was this the end?
Sophie was the first to speak. “Why?”
He studied her for several moments, and I could see the torrent of emotions he was struggling to organize in his mind. He’d fallen in love with my wife, and he was doing everything he could to claw himself back to a place where he could keep control.
Carlo doesn’t fall in love easily, but when it happens, he’s loyal and it consumes his heart and soul.
“You guys are married now. I always understood that you’d eventually move on, I need to protect myself. A diversion will help,” he replied honestly.
The entire time he spoke, he stared at me, and I had the distinct impression that I’d let him down. When Chess was alive, he didn’t exclude me once. I never asked him to back off, but I had private thoughts about being alone with Sophie.
I could sense Sophie eyeing us, perhaps trying to interpret our silent conversation.
“Why a sex club?” she asked him.
“It’s anonymous. I don’t have to commit. It’s ideal for me,” he explained. “Travis has been a few times. He loves it down there. The way he describes it . . . fits my lifestyle.”
Carlo glanced back at me as I nibbled my bottom lip.
“Say something, Spencer. I won’t go if you’re uncomfortable with it.”
I shook my head; “It’s not my place to tell you what to do,” I replied, my voice so quiet I’m surprised he heard me.
How could I admit my curiosity to see him there?
Travis called me two days ago and asked me to go along. I automatically declined; being a married man. However, he never mentioned inviting Carlo.
“Do they have a website?” Sophie asked.
We both turned to glare at her. When she saw our questioning stares, she shrugged.
“It might be fun one night,” she teased, and my mouth fell open.
“You want to go to a sex club, Bella?” Carlo demanded, his lust augmenting with each syllable.
Her hand on the sofa cushion traced the faint lines in the fabric.
“Maybe. If you guys were with me.”
My dick instantly turned to steel, and since I was only wearing my customary sweatpants, my reaction to her suggestive response was obvious.
Carlo stalked around the coffee table toward her, in the same state as me. He loomed over her, and from the pounding of the pulse in her throat, I could tell his presence was having the same impact on her as it was on me.
“What do you imagine happening there?” he asked, his words slow, careful.
Her cheeks flushed deliciously.
Carlo and I weren’t unfamiliar with Sophie’s creative imagination. Her desires had fueled so many of our hottest nights together.
“I’m not sure what’s allowed.”
She raised her eyebrow, directing her implied question at me.
“Let’s pretend there are no rules,” I choked out. “What would you like to happen?”
She puffed out a breath.
“Remember the other night when that guy came up to chat me up in the bar, and you went all caveman on me?” I nodded. “That was fucking hot.”
It was. I saw him approaching her a few minutes before I stepped in. Observing her flirt with another man gave me an unexpected thrill.
Afterward, I tried to analyze my response and decided it was because I was certain she was mine.
Over the years, my trust in her had grown. I was as certain as I could be that Sophie wouldn’t let another man touch her. Yet, it was obvious she was enjoying being admired by the handsome stranger.
While she laughed and flirted, I looked on from a table close by. The excitement of the experience made me wonder how she’d react if the roles were reversed. With my gaze fixed on her, my salacious mind wandered, creating images of irresistible fantasies.
How would she react seeing me sleep with another woman? Like I watch her with Carlo.
The thought was fleeting; it never occurred to me to ask her or act upon it.
Needing to ground myself, I ran my fingers through her hair. She was wearing her favorite white shirt of Carlo’s. It was old, and well worn; the fabric was soft and thin. So thin, it was possible to see the shadows of her nipples underneath.
“It was hot. I loved seeing his lust for you. He was desperate to taste what’s mine. Intervening just as he thought he’d gotten lucky for the night was a buzz.”
She grinned playfully.
“I like the idea of people watching the three of us together, too,” she admitted, her voice gaining confidence.
Carlo sank to his knees, reaching for my waistband and pulling down my trousers.
“Keep talking, Bella, you’re turning us on.”
As Carlo’s mouth surrounded my dick, I jerked my chin up, prompting my wife to continue.
“I’d like to see the two of you picking up a woman,” she whispered, her voice thick with desire.
Carlo released my dick with a pop, waiting for her to speak with his mouth open. He hurriedly unfastened his own trousers, pressing our dicks together in his hand and jerking us both off at the same time.
“If they have private rooms, I could instruct you. Control the narrative,” she suggested, before leaning down to run her tongue along both of our dicks in the same movement. Her mouth wasn’t big enough to take us both together, but a few months earlier we’d learned her pussy was.
“Get your cunt over here,” Carlo growled.
In seconds, she’d abandoned her T-shirt and hovered over us both.
My boyfriend helping to fill my wife’s pussy with cum was one experience I never thought I could give up.
Our visits to the club became a regular thing. It was fucking addictive. Sophie blew our minds; I still wasn’t sure about other men touching her. She quickly picked up on my discomfort, claiming she was happier just seeing us, or having others watch her with us.
It wasn’t until maybe eighteen months later that she stopped going, but even then, Sophie insisted she didn’t want Carlo and me to stop going. Her only condition was that we reenact our evening with her when we returned home.
This new dynamic in our relationship opened a whole new world of possibilities.
Not long after, I started traveling regularly with my thriving business.
Our game became even more forbidden when I introduced nighttime phone calls from all over the world, as I would fuck some woman I’d picked up in a bar for a one-night stand.
Whenever he could, Carlo would stay with Sophie while I was away. He’d follow my instructions, reenacting the scenes I was performing.
Sophie claimed to love the experience and stipulated that as long as I always came home to her, she had the confidence to enjoy my pleasure.
The buzz just kept on buzzing.
And meeting those other women proved one thing; I was married to the most perfect woman in the world.
The three of us seemed happy.
I checked in with Sophie regularly, aware we were playing a dangerous game. It was exciting, forbidden, and although we all understood it couldn’t last, somehow it became normal.
However, I didn’t see the next chapter coming, and when it unraveled, it changed everything.
That was the moment we lost something, and I didn’t have a clue how to turn the clock back.