A teaspoon of obsession

{if FINAL = true}

“I don’t need sugar, I need a cocktail,” Kaitlyn says, setting the measuring cup down on the table as she walks directly into the living room. It is the room farthest from her apartment. If that is intentional, then she wants to talk privately. So why the show?

“Coming right up. Sweet? Floral? Boozy?”

“Boozy.”

I get to work with what diminishing stock I have, deciding a simple Old Fashioned would be fine. I pour it a little bit heavier than usual. She does look a little stressed after all. Two minutes later we sit together on the couch, drinks in hand. “What’s the play here?”

One corner of her mouth flickers a quarter smile. “My husband is being a bit of jackass this weekend.”

“And you wanted him you visit me to make him jealous?” I guess.

She looks at me over the glass as she sips. “Yes... I guess that's true. I want to put him on his toes at least. He needs to back off.” I sip and wait for her to elaborate.

"In what way?"

“He keeps hammering me with questions about what happened that night.”

"Oh..."

"Apparently my answers are not satisfying enough."

“Not enough? I thought your mistaken identity story was pretty good myself...”

“Heh, he loved the story. He's had me retell it a few times now, but each time he thinks of new questions to ask. He wants to visualize it perfectly. What position, who stood where, which pieces of clothing came off in which order, how I got to his apartment... I fielded the questions for the most part, what I could remember anyway. Now he really wants to know where the guy lives. I am trying not to lie, but I can't tell him that part."

I nod slowly. She can’t tell him that now, not after passing off the fiction we acted out together as if it were the truth. But if he asks too many questions, he might eventually figure it out. Learning that the stranger she picked up at the bar was actually their neighbor might come as a blow.

“Why is that detail so important? Should I be prepared for a confrontation?”

“I doubt it. He isn't obsessed with who the guy is—he's obsessed with the idea that I walked all the way home with his spunk all over my face."

“Mmmmggghh!” I am **** to swallow my drink hard to avoid laughing it out, wondering at my sudden arousal. "And he is obsessed... because he liked that part?"

She nods severely. “Oh yeah he did, but when I said I couldn’t remember exactly where the guy lived, he was not satisfied. So much so that today he is demanding that we drive around to jog my memory and retrace my steps."

“Oh wow... He’s not just... Wow. Maybe he liked it too much. It’s great that he is excited, but isn't that is getting... a bit needy?”

“I’d say so. I told him I don’t want to, that I’m too embarrassed. That only made him ask more questions. He wants to know how it felt to be in public, what intersections I crossed, how many people saw me... Anyway, we were sparking at each other a little bit ago until he went out to get a smoke.”

“And now you are here.”

“Yep.” We clink glasses. “Thanks for listening to me gripe." She tosses her head back, nearly finishing her drink in a single gulp and puffs her cheeks in a boozy exhale. With bright, watery eyes she smiles. "So how long should I make him wait?”

"I don't mind listening to your griping on bit. I mean, I am not exactly impartial in this." I take a slow sip and look at her sexy self. God, she is a great fuck. Twisted and fun in all the right ways. Hell, I would reconsider my stance against monogamous dating if she weren’t married. At the very least, I would like to keep this going as long as I can... but she is the one that has to live with the long term consequences. "I do have a suggestion, if you want my very partial advice."

"That is why I asked."

"I think he needs to realize that he is fixated with the wrong thing." I give her a cheshire smile.

"Oh?" she asks hopefully.

"Instead of obsessively visualizing on the details of this story, he should be focused on how many more stories you can tell if you keep having more tawdry adventures."

"Do I want to keep having those?" She leans back and raises an eyebrow at me, daring me to continue the thought as her shift in posture suggests she is releasing some of the frustration she had been carrying.

I clear my throat. “Well, I certainly hope you do. But I think what we really need right now is to take the conversation to the bedroom.”

{else}Play in game mode.{endif}