The Yearning [Part 2] #NSFW

Find Part 1 here.

She ran her hand slowly along its length from base to tip. It felt silky against her palm, and the repetitive motion enhanced her desire for contact elsewhere. Her pace quickened until frustration caused her hand to spasm and lock over the braid.

Across the shop, Mark was sipping coffee from a styrofoam cup. He'd rest the white, plastic lid to one side and was scrolling through articles on his phone, oblivious as she stared. She could approach him, but he'd rebuffed her advances all of last week.

"He's married," Jacob had said the night before.

"So are we," she'd responded.

Jacob laughed. "Yeah, Stacy. But we're a special kind of married."

It was true. They had their own code they lived by. For the last ten years, they'd chosen monogamy. When their friends began having children, Stacy and Jacob packed their bags and took extended vacations. Kids weren't on their happiness menu. They wanted each other.

Now, as their friends volunteered at their children's schools and played catch in the back yard, Stacy and Jacob were searching for their next big adventure. Rather, Stacy was searching. Jacob had already landed a part-time gig with Athena, a woman who staffed the local bookshop and quoted Captain Picard when she came over for dinner. Stacy liked her and loved being in the house when she and Jacob got down to business. Stacy also enjoyed washing the sex off Jacob in the shower when Athena left. And she especially enjoyed what Jacob learned by tending another woman in bed.

Not their bed. That was one of the rules. No sex with anyone except each other in the marital bed.

The was also:

1. Tell each other everything.
2. Stop if it isn't working for husband or wife.
3. No random hook-ups--STD checks required.
4. No filming.
5. No affairs.

That wasn't the extent of it, but those were the most important rules for the pair. And the last was tricky. It was what she was struggling with now. Mark sat across the cafe running a fingertip around the lip of his coffee cup. She could see his wedding ring glinting gold. If Mark's marriage wasn't open, he was off limits.

Stacy's shifted in her seat. Her latte was cold. She was only here to talk with Mark, if she could get his attention. She planned to test Jacob's theory.

"Tell him we are in an open relationship and you want to know if he is, too."

It was just so . . . obvious. Not that she was trying to be discreet. She might as well have painted him a mural of her attraction to him. She squeezed her braid and stood up.

Her heart hammered as she approached Mark. She twirled the end of her braid nervously. At his table, she was grateful her voice was pitched low because she blurted, "I am in an open marriage. I would really like to date you. Is your marriage open?"

His brown eyes met hers. For a moment, he looked intensely sad. Stacy began to back away. "I'm sorry," she said.

"Don't."

"What?"

"Don't be sorry." He twisted his ring.

"Oh. Okay." The conversation had gone from high school awkward to middle school awkward. She waited, her eyes grazing his body, moving from his salt and pepper hair downward across his shoulders and along his arms. His abs. They were . . . He was drinking his coffee black, but the way his shirt hugged his abs she thought maybe she should offer some cream in it. Her eyes flew back up when he spoke.

"Why not?" He said this more to himself than her. He met her eyes again. "I guess you could say it's open. My wife died three years ago."

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