The Third Orange

The Third Orange

PATRICK SUTTON WAS sitting at his favourite table in the coffee shop. He sipped a latte in a straight white mug while studying printouts of a client's balance sheet and comparing them to figures on his laptop. Part of his job was to put together financial reports and looking at the data in a coffee shop after work helped give him a fresh eye on the task. He was scanning a column of figures when a long navy-blue coat and a woman's hand holding the white cup and saucer of a cappuccino appeared in his field of vision. He assumed it was someone pausing near his table while looking for a seat, but then the woman spoke.

'Pat Sutton?'

He knew instantly who it was. His heart thumped and his breath came short as he saw in his mind Jessica Swann, the prettiest girl in the class. No, the prettiest girl in the school. Every boy had a crush on Jessica Swann. Even the boys who claimed to hate girls would get tongue-tied in the presence of Jessica Swann.

Patrick looked up at the girl who had kept his heart captive for seven years of his adolescence. She was now a woman in her mid-thirties, her long blond hair shorter, stylishly cut and darker at the sides. The pink flush of her skin was now dry from the tanning bed and her school uniform had been replaced by an elegant business outfit, but it was still her. The blue eyes, the sparkle in them, the quietly well-proportioned face and the feminine energy that seemed to emanate from her--he found her as lovely as ever.

Patrick rose to his feet.

'Oh, my god,' he said. 'Jessica Swann...'

'Well... it's Jessica Smith nowadays.'

'Oh.'

'Yeah. Not quite so cool, eh?'

'No... no, it's fine.'

'You're married too, I see.'

Patrick glanced at the ring on his left hand.

'Yes,' he said. 'Her name's Ruth. Ruth Tindell.'

'She kept her own name?'

'Of course.'

'Why "of course"?'

'She's a feminist. Plus, she's ten years older than me, so she felt it undignified to take my name.'

'Ah.'

They stood looking at each other. Jessica nodded towards the table.

'May I join you?'

'Of course!'

Patrick cleared the papers to one side and closed the laptop. Jessica took off her coat and folded it carefully onto the seat next to her. She wore a pastel blue business jacket and white blouse which Patrick found breath-taking. After all these years, he could still hardly take his eyes off her. Thankfully, he was no longer the awkward, stumbling teenager he used to be. As they sat across the table from each other, they shared memories and news of fellow classsmates, filling each other in on what happened to this boy or that girl. Patrick went to get a second round of coffees as it started to get dark outside.

When he sat back down, there was a pause in the conversation. Patrick knew they could easily reminisce for another hour, but he had something else on his mind. He would probably never see this woman again after these coffees, so he took a deep breath and launched.

'There's something I wanted to say to you.'

'Oh, dear,' said Jessica. 'Did I do something bad?'

'No, no... quite the opposite.'

Patrick swallowed and went on.

'I once asked you out for a date,' he said. 'Sometime in the sixth form.'

'I remember,' said Jessica. 'I was alone in the school library and you asked me ever-so-politely if you could ask me something. I thought it was going to be a question on trigonometry.'

'Yes, you said that at the time.'

Jessica looked into her coffee cup.

'And I turned you down, didn't I?'

'Yes, you did,' said Patrick. 'But the way you turned me down was very gracious. I didn't appreciate that at the time, but now having some life experience--and having had women literally laugh in my face after asking them out--'

'You're joking!'

'I'm afraid not. And I do see that it's a tricky situation for a woman. But what I also see is that Jessica Swann at seventeen handled it better than anyone I met since. You were honest about your own feelings while still respecting mine, and I want to say thank you for treating a silly, lovesick boy with such consideration.'

Jessica looked at Patrick, almost with tears in her eyes. On impulse, she stood up and went around the table. Patrick got to his feet as she approached and they hugged. Patrick stood holding Jessica Swann in his arms and she felt just as wonderful as he'd always imagined she would; his teenage self wanted to run around whooping for joy. But Patrick was also an adult male and he had an adult female pressing her body against him. Because of the height difference, his erection would be pressing through their clothing into the soft flesh of her belly, so the moment he knew it was going to happen, he pre-emptively broke the embrace. Holding her gently by her arms at a distance, he gave her a sad smile.

'Of course,' she said. 'Your wife. I'm sorry.'

Ruth hadn't actually been anywhere in Patrick's thoughts. Still, it seemed better to let Jessica think that than tell her the real reason. Patrick sat down and crossed one leg over the other, while Jessica went back around the table to her seat. They resumed sipping coffees and then Jessica cleared her throat.

'So how did you meet Ruth?' she said.

'Ruth's a specialist in property law,' said Patrick. 'I'm in finance and about five years ago, she was overseeing a project I was hired to work on. We clicked and, after the project was over, she gave me a call and invited me out for a drink.'

'That was very proactive of her.'

'It was.'

'Did she propose marriage as well?'

'Kind of. I was virtually living at her place and after two years, she said: "Isn't it about time we discussed marriage?" So we did.'

'Wow.'

'Is that a good wow or a bad wow?'

The question seemed to take Jessica by surprise. She considered it over a mouthful of coffee, then gave Patrick a very direct look.

'Do you love her?' she said.

Now it was Patrick's turn to be taken aback. Jessica saw his expression and recanted.

'I'm sorry!' she said. 'That was rude of me. It's none of my business.'

'That's okay.'

'No, it's not! I'm judging you, Pat, and I have no right. I'm not exactly in the best place myself when it comes to marriage.'

Patrick wasn't sure what to say, although he was aware that his heart was racing and it was not due to the caffeine. Jessica downed her coffee and put the cup onto its saucer.

'Look, I have to go,' she said. 'I was only coming in for ten minutes! But I'm wondering... would you like to meet up again?'

'For coffee?'

'Yes.'

Patrick swallowed. He had a pain in his chest.

'My heart says yes,' he said. 'But my mind says no.'

'Why does your mind say no?'

'Because I look at you and I still see Jessica Swann. The girl with the sparkling eyes. I was in love with you for seven years and... and it's like nothing's changed.'

'Oh, Pat...'

'Look, it doesn't make any sense,' said Patrick. 'But I feel what I feel. And I know from experience that pretending that it's enough for me to have chats over coffee with a woman I have feelings for is just dishonest. It's not fair on my wife, it's not fair on you and it's not the man I want to be. I'm sorry.'

'Don't be sorry. I completely understand.'

Jessica looked solemn and somehow this broke Patrick's heart. Yes, she was older now and the flush of youth was gone. But she was still a lovely-looking woman and unlike the way she used to look at him as a kid--with a kind of sympathy--there was now respect in her eyes. It was almost unbearable.

Jessica stood and put on her navy-blue coat. Patrick stood at the same time and she smiled.

'You always were a gentleman,' she said.

'You're very kind.'

'Well, that just shows how little you know me.'

She said it lightly, almost playfully, but it made Patrick frown. Still, it was too late to say anything now. Jessica went around the table, gave him a friendly kiss on the corner of his mouth and put a hand on his cheek. Those sparkling eyes looked right into his.

'It was wonderful to bump into you,' she said. 'And to meet the man that you've become. I hope your...'

She stopped and seemed to have second thoughts. She gave a small shake of the head and smiled.

'Good luck, Pat,' she said.

Jessica turned and walked out of the coffee shop. Patrick stood watching her, even through the windows as she walked along the street outside. She turned her head, smiled and blew him a kiss. Then she was gone and Patrick sat slowly, heavily down, feeling as though a part of him had gone with her.

***

It was nearly ten o'clock at night when Ruth Tindell arrived home to her apartment. She was a fit woman in her mid-forties with a square jaw and brusque manner, tossing her keys into the bowl in the entrance hall and hanging her black raincoat up on a hanger. She knew she came across as quite masculine, so she tried to soften her image through such means as wearing her long brown hair in a ponytail and wearing high-heeled boots. Unfortunately, her interior designer had insisted on a wooden floor with ceramic tile features, which looked great but she couldn't clomp around at this hour without upsetting the couple living in the apartment below. So, Ruth unzipped her boots and left them in the hallway before coming in.

The main living space was on two levels, with a dining table and chairs on the upper level and the lounge area two steps down. That lounge area was carpeted and a large designer fireplace unit kept the place warm in the winter. There was a modular couch and matching armchairs positioned so that eight people could sit facing one another--Ruth liked to entertain--but right now the only person she saw was her husband, Patrick. He was in sweatshirt and sweatpants, bare feet up on the couch, laptop on his lap. She grabbed an apple from the wooden bowl of fruit on the dining table.

'Hi, honey, I'm home!' she said.

'Hello, Ruth,' said Patrick, not looking up.

'Oh, come on! That was worth a smile, wasn't it?'

Patrick looked over at her, unsmiling. Ruth frowned.

'I did tell you I was going to be late, didn't I?' she said.

'I got your text, yes.'

'Well, you didn't respond!'

'I thought you could see when a message has been read?'

'Yes, but it's still nice to get a proper response! Communication, Patrick! That's how a relationship works!'

Ruth took a bite from her apple and went off to take a shower. When she returned, she was wearing a terry robe and she walked barefoot over to the thermostat to turn up the heating. Patrick had finished with the laptop which was now on the floor and she went over to sit next to him on the huge flat couch.

'So how was your day?' she said, rubbing his leg.

'It was okay. Nothing special.'

'Oh, my goodness! What's that?'

Through his sweatpants, Ruth could see a conspicuous erection. Her husband had no doubt been watching porn, the naughty boy! Patrick looked awkward and seemed about to apologise, but Ruth pulled down his waistband and began sucking his cock. Patrick groaned and his wife got him to lie flat so she could give it her full attention. There had been no sex in the Tindell-Sutton household for nearly a week and Ruth was not about to waste a good hard-on.

It was a shame in a way. When they'd first got together, the sex had been awesome. However, since being married, Patrick seldom maintained an erection for longer than ten minutes, and if he didn't ejaculate within the first five, it didn't happen at all. On those occasions when he did keep his erection, he would usually have to finish himself off by hand. But the worst thing for Ruth was that Patrick didn't seem to care. He made sure she had orgasms, of course, but when she said that she wanted him to feel pleasure too, he would just shrug and say, 'I'm okay if it doesn't happen.' Ruth used to think he was just saying that to placate her, but lately she had the horrible feeling he actually meant it.

But tonight was different. On this night, lying on the couch being given a blowjob, Patrick was definitely into it. Ruth could feel his cock stiffen even as she sucked it. His balls felt tight as she gently held them and it was clear by his groans that he was going to come within seconds. Ruth didn't want him to come in her mouth--she'd never liked that with any man--but she was dying to have him come in her pussy.

'I want you to fuck me,' she said.

Without a word, Patrick leapt up and pulled off his clothes. Meanwhile, Ruth opened her terry robe and lay back on the couch, her legs wide. Patrick climbed on top and entered her.

'Oh yes, Patrick,' she said.

'Please,' said Patrick, pausing. 'I want to do this without talking.'

'Oh. Okay, sure.'

It bothered Ruth for a moment. But then Patrick closed his eyes and began to fuck and suddenly Ruth didn't care. 'Whatever works for you, honey,' she thought as his cock invaded her cunt. This was bliss, this was awesome. She felt him fuck harder and harder, faster and faster, and she ran her hands up and down his body as he fucked her. His breathing came quicker, his vocals got louder, reaching a crescendo. 'Oh my god,' thought Ruth. 'It's actually going to happen.'

As Patrick cried out, Ruth felt his cock push all the way in and his arms crushed her body. She felt him jerk and shudder, his cock pulsing and the warmth of his semen spreading through her vagina. She groaned in pleasure and relief, almost embarrassed at how good this made her feel. She felt wanted and vindicated. She felt like a woman.

The two of them lay coupled together for many minutes. Ruth was in absolute heaven. Then she felt the man's penis shrink and exit her vagina. She pulled at the tail of the bathrobe between her thighs so that anything running out of her didn't land on the couch. It was expensive, cream-coloured suede and the stain would show. Patrick rolled off to her side, also taking care not to get semen on the couch. Ruth reached down to the floor and her groping hand found Patrick's discarded sweatpants. She grabbed them and held them up.

'Here, use this,' she said.

Patrick looked at the pants, then looked down at his cock which glistened with cum and juices. He set his jaw and took the pants, covering his genitals and making sure nothing ran down his leg. Ruth's face darkened.

'Don't do that, Patrick.'

'I didn't say a word.'

'You don't have to! Your facial expression is screaming.'

Ruth turned her head away and pulled her robe closer to cover her body. She and Patrick had once watched a porn movie in which the woman had licked the man's cock clean after he came inside her. Ruth had made it very clear she was not into that kind of thing, but Patrick still seemed unable to accept that. She heard him sigh.

'I'm sorry,' he said. 'I know we agreed this, but I forget myself sometimes.'

'Well, don't! I really like it when we connect like this and you're spoiling it! That's not how relationships work, Patrick!'

'Well, I'm sorry. I won't do it again.'

'And don't say it like that! You make me sound like your mother.'

'What should I say?'

'You don't have to say anything! Why don't you just cuddle me? Women like to be cuddled after sex, you know!'

Again, Ruth heard a sigh. Then her husband's arm came around her and very soon they were cuddling, she with the man behind her. It was nice. She felt Patrick let out a controlled breath.

'Do I disappoint you?' he said.

'No...' said Ruth. 'I just wish you'd be a little more... proactive.'

'You do realise that's a Catch-22, don't you?'

'What do you mean?'

'Because if I'm proactive in response to your request, it's not proactive, is it?'

'Oh, just shut up and hold me.'

***

It was the following week.

Patrick went to his usual coffee place after work, his laptop bag slung over one shoulder. As he entered, his breath caught in his throat. Jessica Swann was sitting at his favourite table. She wore a colourful winter jumper over a white shirt with a collar, giving her a smart but informal appearance. She was tapping away on her own laptop, but she looked up as Patrick entered and gave him a wave. He gave a grave nod in return and went to the counter to buy his latte. He wasn't sure what he felt as he carried his white mug to the table, but the smile she gave him... it was to die for.

'Hi there,' said Patrick, sitting down across from her and putting his mug on the table.

'Hello, Pat! It's lovely to see you again!'

'You too.'

'Are you sure? I know I'm breaking the rules.'

'It wasn't a rule.'

'What was it then?'

Patrick sipped his coffee and pondered the question. What was it indeed? A request? A plea? Jessica closed her laptop and leaned on the table.

'It doesn't matter,' she said. 'I've come here a couple of times hoping to bump into you.'

'Really?'

'Don't sound so surprised! You underestimate yourself.'

'Why were you hoping to bump into me?'

'Because I wanted to ask you: Were you serious about what you said?'

Patrick's mouth went dry and he could feel his cock wake up in his pants. He tried not to smile, but he couldn't help it.

'Yes,' he said. 'I was serious.'

'What exactly did you have in mind?'

Patrick's cock went from 'waking up' to fully erect in a second. He uncrossed and recrossed his legs as he tried to straighten out his thoughts. When he knew what he wanted to say, he looked Jessica in the eye.

'Full disclosure?' he said. 'Total honesty?'

'Please.'

'I want everything. I want the whole fairy tale. To marry you, have kids and live happily ever after.'

'What about Ruth?'

'I'd divorce her.'

Jessica looked at the man across the table. She frowned and said:

'I can't give you that.'

'I know,' said Patrick. 'I said I'd be honest, not realistic.'

Jessica smiled sadly and nodded.

'Well, look,' she said. 'I have an idea of my own.'

'Let's hear it!'

'Would you consider having an affair?'

Patrick felt his erection go away. It surprised him; he would have expected the opposite. He looked into Jessica's blue eyes and for the first time he saw not just the sparkle, but calculation.

'Oh, my,' she said. 'I've disappointed you.'

'No...'

'Yes, I have. I can see it in your eyes.'

Jessica took a large mouthful of her coffee, swigging it as though it were a whiskey. She gave a mirthless laugh.

'That's what comes from believing in fantasies!' she said.

'My feelings haven't changed.'

'I was talking about me.'

Jessica looked at him.

'In my mind,' she said, 'your eyes would light up at the thought of being intimate with me.'

'They do. It's the thought of deceiving Ruth that I have a problem with.'

'You were ready to divorce her a minute ago!'

'That's different.'

'How is it different? You're inflicting pain on her either way! And if you were careful and kept it secret, it wouldn't be painful for Ruth at all!'

'I'm sorry, I disagree. Being honest with a woman even if it's painful is still better than deliberately deceiving her.'

'God! Only a man would say that!'

'What?!'

'I'm sorry, Pat, but you're a hypocrite.'

'What do you mean?'

Jessica leaned forward on the table.

'It's pretty obvious to me that you don't love Ruth,' she said. 'Which means you've been deceiving her from the moment you married her.'

'That's not true!'

'Isn't it? You told me that Ruth called you to invite you out for a drink that first time.'

'Yes?'

'Well, if she hadn't done that, would you have called her?'

Patrick swallowed. He considered lying, then decided against it.

'No,' he said.

'Does she know that?'

'I don't know. She's never asked.'

'And why is that, do you think?'

'Jessica, what are you trying to say?'

'I'm saying,' said Jessica, 'that your wife knows perfectly well what your true feelings are! That however much you may like her, you don't love her. But so long as the two of you play the same game and say the right things and avoid saying the wrong things, you can pretend that it's Love with a capital L!'