Dallas-Trust

"You trust me, don't you? I mean, I should have to ask, but I guess I'm asking just the same."


Emily was laying on the couch next to me, in my arms, Saturday night, after dinner with friends, a stop at a wine bar for just the two of us. We were making out, but she stopped, asked a serious question.

"Trust you? Of course I trust you," I stroked her hair.

"I know we play our little games, but you trust me in Dallas, right?"

"Well, I guess I'm not sure what you're asking."

"I'd NEVER do anything I did not think you'd want me to do."

"I know, Em, I know," I answered, though I was not sure. What did that mean? That I did not know. I suppose I thought I knew what it meant, but maybe had to hear it from her and said so. I wanted her to elaborate.

"What's it mean. Just what I said the other day. You know I'd never just randomly hook up with some guy, you trust me to that extent? No matter what my friend said about that what some people do down there, about the hookups and all that, I'd never do anything like that."

"What's the difference? I guess I'm hardly seeing the distinction between what we do and what they do."

"Well, what they do is get out of town, look for sex cause they are away from their significant others, and hide or lie about it. It's outright cheating. I know what you fantasize about but I know you'd never want that?"

"No, god no."

"Me either, Sara, really. You trust me on that, don't you?"

Yea, I did. She was right, anything we did, anything she did, I was as much a participant in it as she was.  And most of what we did was teasing, not doing. "Yea, Em, I do."

"That's important to me, love, you know that. If you ever said, stop, I can't take this, fantasy, reality, anything, it stops for me that second."

"I have zero issues, Emily," I said as honestly as I felt because I meant it. I trusted her. She'd never cheat on me nor I on her.

"I think its the tease with you much more than the reality, isn't it?"

I pondered her visiting Evan, pondered whether I actually wanted her to do anything or no, pondered what about it turned me on, drove me wildly jealous yet even more excited, anticipating, dreaming, thinking, fantasizing. Pondered what she may or may not have done.

"Yea, probably," I admitted.

"It isn't like some of those web sites. I'd never want to do some of that stuff and I don't think you'd want me to, either."

"No, you're right."

"I mean, some things you might like more than others…you do let me go visit Evan…but I'd never want to just hook up with random men. I'd never do that for you, even if you wanted me to."

"I don't want you to hook up with random guys and Evan's...different."

"Yea," she kissed me. "I know the difference, too. And that's what I'm asking. You trust me, don't you?"

"Totally."

"Good," she was stroking my chest, my stomach, touching me.

"Can I flirt a little? Just a little," she asked flirting with me while asking me if she could flirt with someone else. Ah, the irony.

"Yes," I hissed as her hand wandered its way downward.

"You trust me to flirt, don't you?"

"Yea, I do," I said through clenched teeth, her soft touch so distracting.

"I want to…to flirt…especially if you're going to wear that cage…"

The cage, the cage. I have not said yes, but she knows I will.