Wine and Whimsy

I crept back into my room in the early morning, wrapped in last night’s attire, the remnants of a wild evening. The shower that followed was a welcome revival, its steamy embrace preparing me for a day filled with meetings and the pleasure of watching Renee command her space with ease and brilliance.

The day meandered, giving Angie and me plenty of moments together, our roles being more supportive than central. During a quiet spell, we wandered into the garden outside the building. As we walked, Angie, ever curious, turned to me. “How are things progressing with Renee?” She asked, her eyes scanning my face for any hint of hesitation.

I didn’t hold back. “Renee’s promised to be open about her feelings and our relationship. She assured me she won’t pull away when things get intense. She’s committed to being consistent.”

“Did she give you any ground rules?” Angie asked, a knowing smile playing on her lips. It was so like Renee to establish clear terms.

“She did,” I admitted. “We agreed that if I were to be with another woman, I’d be upfront about it.”

Angie’s gaze sharpened. “And how does that make you feel?”

“I appreciate her commitment, but I made it clear that I don’t want my relationship with you to be affected.”

Angie raised an eyebrow. “How did she take that?”

“She said nothing has to change as long as I’m honest with her. How do you feel about that?” I asked, turning the question back to her.

“Do you want the truth?” she asked, her eyes searching mine.

“Always,” I assured her.

“Disappointed for me but happy for you,” she admitted. “I enjoyed our intimacy and it’s going to be tricky to pull back at first, but I’ll manage. I don’t want you to jeopardise what you have with her,” she added with a brave smile.

“Thank you for being so understanding. You know how much you mean to me, and there was no way I was going to choose between our friendship and my relationship with her,” I said.

“I hope she treats you well and sheds that icy exterior. We’ll still be friends, but if you sense me pulling away, it’s just me trying to protect my heart,” she replied.

“I get it. We’ll stay close, we just won’t be hopping into bed!” I joked, trying to lighten the mood.

“Mmm, but sometimes being close stirs those feelings, so we’ll have to take things as they come,” she said thoughtfully.

“I agree,” I nodded.

“Have you always been attracted to the ‘black cat’ type?” she asked, her curiosity piqued.

“You know what that means?”

“I do.”

“No. Most of my exes were incredibly sweet, at least at first. Renee can be sweet too; it’s just buried deeper. If you lined up all the women I’ve been with, you’d be shocked,” I explained.

“Really? So they were all quite different?”

“Yes, different from each other and me.”

“Fascinating…”

“It’s interesting. You’d think there would be common threads, but I’ve never dated two women with so much as the same favourite flower or even one who shared mine. It might not sound unusual given the variety of flowers available, but there are usually a few popular ones that women are drawn to,” I said, reflecting on the peculiar diversity of my past relationships.

“What’s your favourite flower?” Angie asked.

“I love gardenias,” I replied.

“I wouldn’t have guessed that!”

“Why not?” I asked, curious.

“I’m not sure, but it’s a good choice. The scent of gardenias is beautiful. It’s a shame they turn brown so quickly after being clipped.”

“I know, it’s a real downside. And you never see them sold in bunches, probably for that reason. I grow them at home,” I said. “What about you? What’s your favourite?”

“Peonies are quite beautiful,” she remarked.

“They are,” I replied.

“I’ve never had flowers sent to me, you know. Given, yes, but never sent by a loved one.”

“Really? I find that hard to believe,” I said, my tone laced with genuine surprise. Her beauty seemed the kind that would inspire such gestures effortlessly, making the revelation all the more unexpected.

“It’s true. I suppose I’ve never attracted romantics. But you, you must have sent flowers to women all the time!”

I smiled, a touch embarrassed. “I have, on occasion.”

“Do you know what Renee’s favourite flower is?”

“I don’t. When she was leaving, I filled her office with just about every flower imaginable. I should ask her. If I had to guess, she seems like a rose person.”

Angie laughed. “If anyone’s a rose person, it would be Renee. There’s this idea that in a relationship, one person is the gardener and the other is the flower. One blooms while the other tends and admires. I’m not sure that’s always true, but Renee does come across as a rose—beautiful but thorny… without the ’t’. She laughed. “Just kidding!”

I laughed with her. “No, you’re right! I can see why you’d think of her being the flower,” I said thoughtfully, “but she has a very nurturing side.”

“Of course, she does. She is a mother, after all. But she also likes attention.”

“That she does,” I agreed, sharing a smile.

We caught up with our group and had lunch with prospective business partners. Before long, it was time to return to the hotel. Once back, Angie, Renee, and I naturally gravitated toward each other, discussing our plans for the afternoon. I mentioned that I felt like watching a movie by the fire in my room, which they both agreed sounded inviting. The question lingered of who I should ask to join me.

“Can we join you?” Renee asked, breaking the silence.

“Both of you?” I chuckled, surprised by the proposition.

“Why not?” Angie chimed in, her tone light.

I felt as if I had stepped into the twilight zone. How were they acting as if this was completely normal?

“Okay,” I agreed, somewhat nervously.

“I’m going to change into something more comfortable. I’ll meet you both there,” Renee announced.

“Me too,” Angie added.

I watched them walk away, my mind spinning with the unexpected turn of events.

The prospect of their joint company seemed to stir excitement between them. After our encounter, I retreated to my room to slip into something less formal—a t-shirt, hoodie, and boyfriend jeans—anticipating a relaxed evening. I had barely settled when Angie arrived, clad in a teddy bear brown tracksuit that hung unzipped just enough to reveal her assets. The ensemble softened her somehow, making her look incredibly inviting and difficult to not want to snuggle close to.

Shortly after, Renee appeared, contrasting her usual sophisticated exterior with an oversized olive knit top and black tracksuit pants. It was the most casual I had ever seen her, a rare glimpse into a simpler version of the usually composed Queen.

“Wine, anyone?” Renee offered as soon as she entered.

“Sure,” Angie responded with an easy smile.

“None for me, thanks,” I declined quickly. My head was already reeling from the novelty of the situation without the dizzying effects of alcohol.

Renee poured a glass for Angie and one for herself, then climbed onto my bed, settling on the far right side.

“Should I sit between you two?” Angie quipped, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

Renee and I shared a laugh. “I think we should be able to make it through a movie, right,
baby? There’s a first time for everything,” Renee said, her voice carrying a playful undertone, yet tinged with an assertive reminder of our connection.

“What should we watch?” I asked, hoping to navigate the conversation towards neutral territory.

“You two choose, I don’t mind,” Renee replied, her eyes settling comfortably on the screen ahead, her tone accommodating, steering the choice back to us.

As we flicked through the options, the atmosphere was light, but undercurrents of something deeper—an unspoken acknowledgment of the complexity of our relationships—pulsed quietly beneath the surface.

I glanced at Angie who eagerly selected a horror movie, and soon we were all nestled on the bed, me sandwiched in the middle. It felt like a throwback to high school, sitting awkwardly between two pretty girls, unsure how to comport myself. I listened as they sipped their wine and reacted to the film’s jump scares, while I tried to settle my internal disquiet, which craved transparency and resolution.

I decided to let go for once, to sink into the pillows and enjoy the simplicity of the moment. My body finally relaxed into the softness behind me as I placed my hands in the pockets of my jumper. “Do you mind if I grab that blanket?” Angie asked. “I’m a bit cold.”

“Of course not,” I replied.

She crawled forward on all fours, reaching for the throw at the foot of the bed, inadvertently presenting her backside directly in my line of sight. God help me, I thought, feeling a mix of amusement and torment. As she settled back beside me, she scooted close, her body warmth mingling with mine.

“I’ll put the fire on,” I said, remembering my earlier intention. I climbed off the bed to light it, asking over my shoulder, “Can I get either of you anything while I’m up?”

“Maybe a top-up?” Renee suggested.

I refilled their glasses leaving the bottle on the bedside table for easy access. Renee slipped off her jumper, revealing a low-cut long-sleeved shirt beneath and Angie followed suit, though she wore just a singlet.

“It’s nice and warm in here now,” Renee observed with a contented sigh.

“Warm?” I chuckled, looking back at their slightly dishevelled, yet enticing appearances. “I’m gonna have to sit on the couch down here,” I said, pointing to the sofa in front of the bed, teasing that the heat was emanating from them, not the fire.

I carried through with my jest and settled on the lounge by myself. “What’re you doing?” Angie called out, her voice a blend of amusement and protest. “Come back up here!”

“Nup. You two are on heat. I’m staying here where it’s safe,” I declared keeping a straight face.

“Don’t make me come and get you,” Renee warned her tone playfully stern.

“You two can keep each other company up there!” I countered.

“We want you!” Renee exclaimed. We? Did she say ‘we’?

Their laughter filled the room, light and teasing, yet underneath it all, was an unspoken invitation, a question hanging in the warmth between us. What exactly was this evening turning into?

I turned, meeting her gaze, only to find her beckoning me back with a curl of her finger. Sighing with faux exasperation, I resettled between them, noting the empty wine bottle. “I’m getting cold again,” Renee murmured as she glanced suggestively in my direction.

“You need to cover your chest up,” I quipped, laughing as I gestured to the scooped neck of her top.

“Are your hands warm?” she teased, implying I could serve as her heater.

“Down, girl,” I retorted in jest.

“I think I might head back to my room,” Angie interjected, her giggle cutting through the thickening air as she sensed the escalating flirtation.

“No, don’t go, Angie. I was just being silly,” Renee quickly replied, her tone softening.

“Look, everyone just needs to cover themselves up!” I exclaimed, feigning panic at their allure, prompting laughter from both.

“Fine, more wine then, Renee?” Angie proposed, breaking the momentary tension.

“Please,” Renee agreed.

As they continued to indulge, nervous energy grew within me, acutely aware that alcohol had the power to amplify underlying emotions, pushing things in unpredictable directions.

Suddenly, Angie piped up, “I think we should go out tonight.”

“What? Where?” I asked, surprised by the sudden shift.

“I don’t know, but now that I’ve had some wine, it seems like a waste to stay in,” she chuckled.

I turned to Renee, “What do you think?”

“No, I think I’ll stay in, but you two go!” she declared, her eyelids heavy, her voice slow from the wine’s embrace.

“Are you sure?” I pressed, seeking confirmation.

“Yeah! Go for it,” she insisted, a gentle push in her tone.

“Alright, we could grab some drinks at one of the locals?” I suggested, rising to the unexpected plan.

“Yes!” Angie exclaimed, her enthusiasm reigniting the atmosphere.

As Angie and I prepared to venture into the night, I glanced back at Renee, her figure sprawled casually across the bed, a serene smile playing on her lips. The evening had taken a turn I hadn’t anticipated, spiralling into an adventure spurred by wine and whimsy.

The movie flickered off, and Angie and I scrambled to ready ourselves while Renee retired to her room, her parting glance tinged with something unreadable. I decided to warm up the night with some vodka from the mini bar, thinking it might level the emotional playing field Angie seemed to have erected effortlessly. With the knowledge of our impending departure the next day, indulgence felt justified.

After a quick shower, I slipped into tight black jeans and boots, topping the ensemble with a leather jacket. Angie reappeared at my door, in a striking leopard print dress paired with boots, her outfit a perfect blend of wild charm and chic.

We ventured out into the cool night, drawn to a lively pub down the road. The ambience inside beckoned with a warm glow, and soon we were sharing plates and sipping cocktails. The rhythm of the music soon pulled us onto the dance floor, the beats resurrecting a vivacity I thought I’d left in my twenties. Angie, moving closer, danced against me with a fiery intensity, her movements bold and intoxicating. Confusion swirled within me; my emotions for Renee remained undiminished, yet my desire for Angie surged with an unexpected force. My respect for boundaries held firm, but the effort chafed against my growing impulse to draw her closer.

As Angie turned to face me, her expression open and sincere, I couldn’t suppress my smile.

“What?” she inquired, a trace of laughter in her voice.

“Nothing! You’re beautiful,” I managed, my voice a mix of admiration and restraint.

The night stretched on, timeless and exhilarating, and before we knew it, the clock had spun its way to 2 a.m. We drifted back to the hotel in the early morning haze where a message from Renee awaited me—a reminder not to disturb her, sent just past midnight. In my tipsy mirth, I found humour in her irritation.

Angie and I parted ways in the hallway. I hesitated, knowing Renee’s “do not disturb” was less of a barrier and more of a challenge. Softly, I tapped on her door. The delay in her response was palpable, the air thick with the weight of awaited confrontation. When she finally opened, her voice was a cool sliver of silver.

“I thought I told you not to come to my door?”

“If you want me to leave, I will,” I offered, though the tug of something deeper held my feet firm.

“Why are you just getting back now? It’s two in the morning! What have you been doing?” Her tone was sharp, edged with jealousy as she let me in.

“We got a bit carried away and didn’t realise the time,” I confessed, trying to keep the situation light.

“Carried away? I give you what you want and this is the thanks I get,” she retorted.

“You told us to go!” I reminded her, the words hanging between us like a challenge yet to be met.

Renee’s voice trembled slightly as she spoke, a mingling of hurt and confusion in her tone. “I didn’t realise you would be out until all hours of the morning together!”

“What does it matter?” I questioned, defensiveness creeping into my voice despite my attempts to keep calm.

“I thought… you might want to spend a little time with me before we go home.”

“I have spent time with you!” I protested. “Time just got away from us. I don’t want to fight about this.”

“My intuition is telling me you’ve got lingering feelings for her,” she said, her voice lowering, heavy with implications.

“I’ve been open with you about my feelings. They won’t just disappear overnight, but I haven’t acted on them,” I assured her, trying to navigate the treacherous waters of truth and reassurance.

“If this isn’t the room you want to be in, then don’t be,” she said, disappointment etching her features.

“Do you think I would be here if I didn’t want to be?” I countered softly, moving closer. “I came to the room I wanted to be in.” I beckoned her closer with a tilt of my head. “Come here.”

Reluctantly, she stepped closer and searched my eyes. “I want you. You’re my Queen,” I whispered as I pulled her in by the waist. “You look so good, baby,” I said, drunkenly.

“Don’t make a fool out of me,” she responded her voice a blend of warning and vulnerability. “Because I want you, I really do.”

I kissed her with a fervour meant to bridge the chasm of doubt between us and held her tightly. “You must be tired. Let’s get you back into bed,” I suggested softly.

“Coming in?” she asked.

“If I’m allowed,” I replied.

“I’ll allow it”

I stripped down to my underwear and slipped into bed. Renee shed her robe and joined me, turning her back to me as she nestled in. I chuckled, a light-hearted scoff at her nakedness. “Are you kidding me?”

“No,” she murmured, pushing back against me, her body warm and inviting.

“You want me to try and sleep like this?” I asked as my hand caressed her.

“Mhmm,” she murmured sleepily, her voice tinged with a tease.

I wrapped my arm around her, my hand gently squeezing her tits. “Okay, goodnight,” I said softly, kissing her neck before I started to roll over. But she caught my arm, pulling it back around her.

“You want me to cuddle you to sleep?” I asked, half-serious.

“No,” she said as she turned to face me. Her voice quivered, exposing a raw, tender underbelly as she confessed, “I don’t want to feel like second best, and tonight, I did.”

“You’re not,” I rushed to reassure her, each word weighted with sincerity. “I’m sorry if I made you feel that way. You are not a second option to me. I asked for your commitment because I love you.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly, a mix of scepticism and hurt flickering through them. I kissed her neck softly and whispered sweet nothings in her ear until her expression softened and she held me close. The nearness of her was a delight I savoured, each breath imbued with her essence, every touch a tender caress. She epitomised femininity, and I felt profoundly fortunate to bask in her presence.