The Guy in the Next Room

He had caused an argument when he asked to stay. A very good friend to both of us but ignorant of the extent of our relationship - in as far as we had not told him. However, he is not a stupid or unnoticing man. I suspect he knows. But, being the discreet diplomat that he is, he will not ask. He goes along with my story that I sleep in the spare room.

It was he who told me of the fact that he would also be staying with us after the Xmas party and joked about sharing my sleeping bag. Being completely ignorant of what had been agreed, I went along with him and teasingly started exploring the possibility of the threesome that I wanted to fit in before I'm 50...

When Ruf finally got around to telling me, we started running through the options of who was going to sleep where and settled on me bringing an airbed to put along the bottom of his bed as our friend would never fit there and we couldn't get two beds into the spare room. I put to him the possibility that perhaps we should just tell our friend...? He got a little tetchy and accused me of engineering the whole conversation so that he would have to reveal our situation to our friend. Men!!!!

On reflection, I could see his point. He'd felt like he was being backed into a corner and he has this belief that most people 'just don't want to know' about our ins and outs, particularly when they know of my marital status.

So I agreed to remain silent and stick to the game plan of sleeping at the bottom of his bed.

Although I couldn't help fantasising about creeping into his bed in the middle of the night and ravishing him, with him unable to fight me off for fear of waking our friend...

... Or maybe, me creeping in and him being overcome with desire and ravishing me despite himself, leaving me to try to contain my squeals as I came.

So we pumped up the airbed, placed it at the bottom of his bed and went off to enjoy ourselves.

The party itself was fun and the three of us arrived back at the flat a little the worse for wear and jokingly made all the requisite noises about the threesome - as you do when you've had a skinful. But, after a few more drinks, exhaustion and sensibilities took over. It had been a long week.

Ruf used the bathroom whilst I changed out of my gladrags in the privacy of his room and, when I was decent, he returned and collapsed in a heap under his duvet. Our friend was next into the little boys' room. It's amazing how short a time it takes for a man to get ready for bed after a night out!

So, as I went across the hallway to perform my ablutions, securely wrapped in my little pink slip nightie and dressing gown, I could see our friend - a huddled shape lying in the darkness of the spare room. I removed my lenses and makeup, washed and moisturised my face and brushed my teeth before turning out the hall light and closing the door to Ruf's room behind me.

As I removed my dressing gown and started to get into my sleeping bag at the bottom of his bed, I looked over to the shapeless lump in the bed.

Suddenly, part of the duvet was thrown back and I could see his hand patting the mattress next to him. I smiled. I had my instructions.

Had he ever intended for me to sleep alone?

It didn't matter.

I turned out the bedside lamp and slipped under the duvet. His warmth enveloped me as his arms went around my shivering body, pulling me close against him. Lips kissing my back and shoulder, he whispered: 'I love you baba...'

In the morning, Ruf made breakfast for our friend, keeping the door to his bedroom firmly closed and he left before I surfaced.

We have seen each other several times since, but he has never mentioned the sleeping arrangements.

Blog every day in May,Like a pensioner on a new laxative it may not be merry but it will be regular.