I sit at the table and fidget with my phone as I wait for Steffan to come back from the bar with our drinks.

It’s a cool night, the sky darkening to a deep blue above us. A few of the tables around us are filled with people, but for the most part, it’s quiet. This place isn’t anything special. Which is exactly why I chose it.

Discretion was the first thing on my mind, and I knew it would be the same for Sean, wherever he is right now. We chose places as far from our normal haunts as possible, in an attempt to divorce this from the rest of our lives.

"We need to make sure we don’t let anyone else find out about this," Sean warned me, once Steffan and I started making plans.

"What, or else the whole building is going to think they have a chance with us?" I laughed, teasingly.

"Not that," he replied. "Just… People will talk if they know what we’re doing. And you know how prudish they can be. We don’t want this to impact the rest of our lives. Our jobs…”

"I feel you," I agreed. I was glad someone had his head on straight. Given the way I was approaching this, I could have been caught fucking Steffan in our communal bin area and not given a fuck.

Ever since we swiped on them, it is like the four of us have been playing a delightfully underhanded little game, something just made for us. We will catch their eyes in the corridor, and that flicker of a smile will pass between us, the sexual tension building. It’s only fuelled by the jealousy I felt when Meghan confessed she’d always had feelings for Sean. I laid in bed next to him as he fiddled with the phone, grinning to himself as he texted back and forth with her.

"Did you always fancy her, as well?" I asked, and he shrugged.

"I’ve always thought she was attractive," he replied. "Nothing serious, I suppose."

"Mmm, right… I bet you’ve thought about fucking her before, haven’t you?”

"Why, you jealous?” He shot right back.

I snuggled up to him. "Maybe a little," I admitted. "But in a good way. I think."

For this first date, Donnie is staying with his grandparents, and Sean and I are taking off to other ends of the city to find out what new parts of ourselves we can discover, unfettered by the constraints of marriage.

I smile as Steffan returns from the bar and settles himself down opposite me. A few heaters have been set up to make sure that we don’t get too cold in the enclosed outdoor area, but honestly, I have been feeling overheated since I slipped into the taxi to come out here. Sean is off on his date with Meghan right now, too, and I can’t help but wonder what they are up to.

Like us, they have an Airbnb booked for the night.

“Here you go,” Steffan says as he plants my drink down in front of me. This is my second of the night, and I am hoping that it loosens me up a little because I am feeling… no, not awkward, that’s not quite the right word I’m looking for. Just… just the newness of all of this is getting to me.

“Cold night, right?” he remarks. I nod, even though I am okay.

“Yeah, it is,” I reply. A small moment of silence falls between us. Okay, maybe awkward is the word I’ve been looking for.

I’ve spent plenty of time with this man over the years, but it isn’t until now that I realise it was all in the presence of his wife. I’ve never had him all to myself like this. And I have to admit – up close like this – he is exceptionally handsome. He is a bodybuilder in his spare time, and while it’s not exactly the most scintillating topic of conversation, it has kept his body strong and lean. I can’t help but let my eyes linger on his forearms, wondering how they would feel wrapped around me.

“Can I ask you something?” I wonder aloud, leaning forward.

He nods, and a smile flicks up his face as soon as he senses that this might be something sensitive. “Yes?”

“How long have you been doing this… Weekend Club thing?” I ask, waving my hand vaguely. I am not sure how specific I can be, since the two of us are in public.

“About ten years now,” he replies casually, not seeming to worry much about the people around us who might be able to hear him. “Though Meghan and I have been in an open relationship almost from the start.”

“Oh, really?” I ask, widening my eyes. “I didn’t realise…”

“With the line of work I did when we met, it only made sense,” he explains. I cock my head to the side.

“Which was?”

“I was a stripper,” he replies casually. I nearly snort a sip of wine out of my nose.

“You were a what?”

“I was a stripper,” he replies with a grin on his face. “Did it for about ten years before I retired.”

“Like, you did the whole bachelorette party thing?” I ask.

“Yeah, I loved it. Did parties like that, worked at clubs. I was very popular, the club managers were very sad to see me go.”

I feel a touch turned off by the arrogance of this last line, but I ask anyway, “And that’s why you and Meghan are open?”

“Yeah, it just didn’t make sense for me to cut myself off from the opportunities that were always arising,” he continues. “All the girls I performed for, there would always be a few amongst them who wanted the hot stripper.”

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

“Really?” I’m intrigued, although I’m finding it a bit odd how he refers to himself.

“Like blowing me in front of their friends,” he replies casually. “Sometimes, the brides would want one last night of freedom before they settled down. And some of them brought their bridesmaids along, as well.”

“Oh, my God,” I say with a laugh.

“How do you think I met Meghan?” he asks with a wink. “I just couldn’t be satisfied with one woman, after how many I’ve had. Do you want to guess my number?”

“Ummm…” I don’t really want to, but he obviously wants to tell me, because he leans forward and says, “It’s triple-digits.”

“Right…” I reach for my wine. I thought my own number – thirty-three – was pretty high, but clearly, I was wrong.

“Maybe I could show you some of my old moves later,” he says suggestively, tipping his head to the side playfully. “I’m very, very good.”

“Maybe…” I demur. I don’t know why it’s so unattractive to me how confident he is. Perhaps because it doesn’t feel like confidence; it feels like boasting. And it makes me wonder if he is overcompensating for something.

He begins to launch into a few more stories from his time stripping, and I listen vaguely. I have never met a stripper before, but I guess it explains why he takes such good care of himself. He spent so long making his money off how good his body looked that I suppose it’s only normal he’s kept it up.

However, his stories all seem exaggerated, and I can’t shake the feeling that he loves to talk about himself and his crazy stripper life. He doesn’t let me get a word in edgewise for a whole fifteen minutes. I keep subtly trying to check my watch to see how much time has passed. He doesn’t get the hint.

“So, what about you?” he finally asks after another five minutes of talking about himself. “Why did you decide to open up your relationship?”

I swirl my drink carefully before responding. “I don’t know if we have an open relationship,” I begin delicately. “We’re only doing this within the context of the Weekend Club.”

“Still sounds like an open relationship to me,” he says with a shrug. “So, what was it? Bored by married life? Or did having a kid stress you out so much that you stopped having sex?”

“I’m not bored,” I say a little too quickly. Steffan smirks, and I take a deep breath before continuing. “Sean and I still have a great sex life. But everyone craves variety. And since Sean lost his job and I started working from home, we’ve just been a little… on top of each other.”

“And not in a good way?” He winks, and I force myself not to roll my eyes.

“It’s taken some of the excitement and spontaneity out of our lives,” I admit.

“And your son, Donnie?” Steffan leans towards me. “Is it really hard on your marriage to have a kid?”

“When he was little, sure,” I say. “And obviously we have to be more creative about when we have sex. But overall, having a kid has made us closer. We’re not just a married couple. We’re a family.”

Steffan slumps back in his chair and folds his arms. His eager expression has been replaced with one of petulance.

“Well, when you see my wife around, would you mind telling her that?” he asks grumpily.

I’m so surprised by the non sequitur that I don’t know how to answer. “What do you mean?” I finally ask.

“Just what I said,” he says. “Meghan needs some… motivation… when it comes to having kids.”

I squint as I try to calculate just how old Meghan might be. “Is she still able to have kids?”

Steffan glowers at me. “She is, but there isn’t a lot of time left. If we don’t have them now, it’s not going to happen.”

I’m a little disappointed by the direction that this conversation has gone. I was hoping we would be flirting on this date, not talking about his marital troubles. Hell, I’d even take his over-the-top stories about being a stripper over this.

“Have you always wanted kids?” I ask after a moment.

Steffan’s eyes light up at the question. “Of course. But I never thought that I could have them. In my line of work, I couldn’t imagine raising a kid. It only really became a possibility after I retired. And there’s no one I would want to do it with more than Meghan. She’d be an incredible mother. I’ve told her that so many times. But she doesn’t want them. Says it would interfere with our swinging lifestyle too much.”

“It does make it a bit more complicated,” I say fairly. “We’re lucky we live close to Sean’s parents so they can –”

“As if sex with strangers is more important than raising a child! Than bringing another person into this world!” He snaps.

I frown at Steffan. It’s not exactly gentlemanly behaviour to interrupt me, especially when we’re on a date. But he doesn’t seem to notice or care. He’s staring off into space, his expression darkened.

“Don’t you agree?” he asks suddenly. “Wouldn’t you take Donnie over the Weekend Club?”

“Of course, but….”

“But what?”

I feel strangely hot. I’m afraid that anything I say is going to make it back to Meghan, that Steffan is going to make me look like I was criticising her.

“Well, I think it’s okay to want both,” I finally say with a shrug. “And if Meghan doesn’t want children, that’s her right. It’s her body, after all.”

“Now you sound like her,” he says darkly.

I raise an eyebrow. “That should be a compliment, that I sound like your wife.”

Steffan looks a little chagrined, and he straightens up and smiles weakly. “I’m sorry, you’re right,” he says. “I guess I’m just a little bit envious.”

“Of what?” I ask, surprised.

“Of your life. Your kid. Having a partner who loves being a parent and would probably have even more kids.”

“It’s not like it’s easy, being a parent,” I say. “It’s a huge responsibility. And sometimes I feel burned out. Sometimes I just want a break. But you can never get a break from being a parent. You’re in it for life. And if Meghan doesn’t want that, then I understand. You have to be very sure before you make a commitment like that.”

“Of course, of course.” Steffan seems to be trying to backtrack on what he’s just said. He signals to the waiter that we’d like another round of drinks, then turns his attention back to me. “I’m sure you’re a very good mother,” he says.

“Thanks.” I’m not sure I am, but I do love Donnie more than anything on earth.

“You know… there’s one specific fantasy I’ve always wanted to try.” His hand slides across the table, and his fingers brush against mine. Instinctively, I put my hand in my lap. Nothing about Steffan is turning me on right now. But he doesn’t seem to take that as a rejection. “What do you say we get out of here,” he murmurs. “I take you upstairs, and I fuck you hard until I inseminate you.”

I stare at him. Is he joking? “You don’t use condoms?” I finally ask.

“Of course I do,” he says, reddening slightly. “It’s just a fantasy. I’d use protection.”

“That’s okay,” I say quickly. “I don’t really have that particular fantasy.”

“Come on,” he coaxes. “I promise, you’ll really like it when my seed is getting you pregnant.”

That’s when I decide it’s time to call it a night. Truthfully, I am a little aroused by what he’s saying, but there’s no way I’m having sex with him. Not after he spent our entire date being full of himself and then complaining about his wife and childless marriage.

“I think I’m going to head out.” I stand up before he can say anything. The look of surprise on his face is worth any embarrassment I feel at leaving so abruptly. He clearly isn’t used to getting rejected.

“Are you sure?” He stands as well. “Can I walk you to your car?”

“I’m alright. Thank you for the drinks.” I make a beeline for the exit. It isn’t until I’m out in the fresh air that I take a deep breath. Annoyance and disappointment are swirling within me. I’m annoyed that Steffan was so obnoxious, but more than that, I’m disappointed that the Weekend Club didn’t provide me with a spectacular date. I want to feel that newness and excitement with someone, not be bored to tears by some whiny manchild.

There’s also a third emotion coursing through me: jealousy. Because across town, somewhere, I have a feeling that Sean is having a much better night than I am.