8. Cole
Cole
Salt’s membership application is extensive .
As well as providing a clear STD panel and character references, the form also asks open-ended questions on what consent means to me and how I respond to rejection.
It also asks how I check in with someone during and after an intimate encounter, and if I’ve ever misjudged someone’s emotional or physical readiness for sex.
There are four questions purely related to aftercare. And all this is before an exhaustive – but optional – list of kinks to tick. Thank goodness I work for myself – there’s no one else here to see the raging hard-on under my desk as I work my way through it.
I’m seriously impressed by Salt’s rigorous approach to consent and safety. If I hadn’t already warmed to Luke when we were there, I’d be shaking his hand all over again.
Pushing my glasses back up my nose, I fire off the application form with a side note to express my admiration for their ethos, and rise to make a coffee. Freddie’s message from last night, asking if I’d come back to Salt, has been bouncing around my brain all day.
I’ve been single for a while now, and though a few partners have come and gone, I’ve definitely been in a rut. Salt might not be the most likely place to find someone to settle down with, but it could definitely help me blow the dust off things.
Especially if Freddie’s serious about trying out a threesome with the beautiful American.
She’s been on my mind non-stop since last week – that moment where she grabbed my hand and unravelled before my eyes is burned into my brain.
I’ve never met anyone quite so comfortable in their own skin before.
Her confidence was a drug that’s already proven to be addictive, if Freddie’s obsessive behaviour is anything to go by.
I give myself a little shake as the espresso drips out into my cup.
We might not actually see her again. And she might not be interested. But I can’t stop the little voice in the back of my mind from whispering: what if she is?
I’ve no doubt I could handle a threesome, but a threesome with Freddie would be…
complicated. I’ve been comfortable in my bisexuality since before I met him, and have been out since I was a teenager.
He accepted it without batting an eyelid, telling some story about going to see the musical Rent when he was a kid.
What he failed to notice was the way I looked at him like he’d hung the goddamn moon.
I pined for about six months, then packed all those feelings up into a box and put them away.
Freddie’s straight as an arrow, and has never shown an ounce of interest in men.
Sharing the American between us wouldn’t change any of that, but I can’t say it wouldn’t be weird to see him naked and in the throes of passion.
My cock twitches at the thought. Nothing complicated about this at all.
As I sit back down at my desk, I see an email from Jessie, the manager at Salt.
Hi Cole,
Thank you for your application. We are reviewing it. Thank you too for your kind words re: our culture. We are very proud of it.
In the meantime, I note you are a freelance graphic designer.
I’ve been looking for a new designer to help us with some marketing materials at the club.
Would you be up for coming down for a coffee?
We only work with a very small circle of suppliers who understand the need for discretion, so it would be wonderful if you were the right fit.
Best wishes,
Jessie
I smile as I hit reply straight away.
Hi Jessie,
Thank you for the email and for your consideration for membership.
I would be delighted to meet you for a coffee. Shall we say Friday?
Many thanks,
Cole
With a date locked in, I pick up my phone. I feel like Freddie and I need a proper conversation before we hit Salt again.
Fancy a beer later?
FREDDIE
Always! Usual spot, 6pm? See you there!
I arrive bang on time and Freddie strolls in twenty minutes late.
This is so standard now that I usually give him a fake meeting time to account for his perpetual tardiness.
He pushes a lock of dark hair off his forehead as he squeezes through the throng in the pub, and I stand to give him a hug.
A moment later, he disappears to the bar and returns with a couple of pints. IPA for me, lager for him.
“So, any word from the American?” I say, as he flops into his seat.
“Not a whisper,” he sighs, but the look on his face says he’s utterly undeterred. “But it will happen. You don’t walk away from chemistry like that, Cole.”
You can’t fault Freddie’s confidence. He’s absolutely gorgeous and completely sure of himself.
It’s as if it hasn’t crossed his mind that he might fail at something – and yet he’s not the sort of arrogant that pisses you off.
He’s just… Freddie. Blessed by the universe and living life with a perpetual smile.
“It was a pretty wild moment,” I admit as he nods, a wistful expression coming over his face.
“You should have seen how hard she came,” he says, cheerfully but quietly.
“I did,” I reply, as he looks up in surprise. “She grabbed my hand and looked me dead in the eyes. One of the most intense moments of my life.” I almost shudder as I relive the moment in my mind. Fuck me, I could easily become as obsessed as Freddie.
Freddie’s eyebrows rise, and for a moment I’m expecting to be hit with a wave of his jealousy, but there’s not a trace of it to be found.
He grins. “Kept that quiet, didn’t you! Isn’t she amazing?”
“She’s definitely something.”
“God, I wish I could have seen her face. I bet she’s stunning when she comes.” He sighs again, as if conjuring a happy memory.
“She is,” I confirm. “So, erm, what do you see happening here?”
“Ahh, ever the planner. I love that about you.”
“Well, she made it pretty clear that she doesn’t tend to date just one person. Ethical non-monogamy is one thing, but she’s clearly more polyamorous. I know we don’t even know her name, but if we do hear from her, shall we establish some ground rules?”
He frowns. “Ground rules? Like what?”
“Like how we would… navigate her?”
He bursts into laughter and I feel the colour blooming in my cheeks. I like to plan things and know my boundaries, and Freddie likes to do everything by the seat of his pants.
“She’s not a one-way system, Cole. We’d just… go with the flow. She’s probably done this before. We can follow her lead,” he says with a wink.
“Ok. Well, suppose she does message you. Will you suggest it’s the three of us that meets for a drink? Or a date? Is this just a sex thing or do you want to date her?”
“I mean, I’ll take whatever she gives me,” he says. “All I know is that I have to know her, you know? If that means the three of us get to do that together, then it’s cool with me.”
“Is it though? Because – without wishing to get ahead of ourselves – you’re basically saying you might end up in a relationship with both her… and me.”
He looks at me, eyes scanning me up and down, then shrugs. He shrugs .
“Fine by me. You’re a good-looking boy. I don’t mind if we both date her. It’s not like we’re dating each other.”
I sigh, because it sort of is and isn’t. Why isn’t there a ‘ Polyamory for Dummies ’ when you want one?
“Ok. Well, let’s go one step at a time. Probably ought to learn her name before we declare we’re in a throuple.”
“A throuple!” he laughs. “Never heard it called that before. Fucking love it. Here’s to us and the American living happily ever after. Simple!”
He’s grinning as he clinks our beers like he hasn’t got a care in the world. I toast him back as my heart struggles to know what the hell to do with itself.
Sure, this whole thing will be simple as fuck.