Hugs and Kisses

I had not heard from Anna since she dumped me—again—in early July.

She had made it clear in her final note to me. If I were unwilling to try a six-week period of monogamy with her, then we were unlikely to have much of a future together, so she was done.

I was unwilling to try this experiment. I was annoyed that she continued to disregard my current disinterest in monogamy—it’s no secret that it’s just not for me right now—and even more annoyed at the blackmail implicit in the experiment: love me, on my terms, or leave me.

I bid her well.

I wanted her in my life somehow, but I was relieved to take a break from our cyclical on again/off again relationship.

Weeks passed, with nothing passing between us.

Then, one day, an instant message.

Anna: Good morning.

Jefferson: Good morning.

Anna: How are you?

Jefferson: Well, and yourself?

Anna: Very good. The kids?

Jefferson: They are fine.

Nice, banal.

I didn’t initiate anything, just responded to her questions in a casual tone.

But I caught the whiff of an agenda.

The beginning of on again.

Anna: So I will be in your neighborhood tomorrow.

Jefferson: Oh?

Anna: Yes, I am being interviewed to volunteer at the medical center.

Jefferson: That’s noble of you. What will you be doing?

I pressed on with questions about her volunteer work.

I let it go that she would be near my place the next day; I didn’t extend an invitation to stop over.

Anna: I’ve been in rehearsals all month for a new performance. It’s a very physical piece—I’ve dropped a dress size from all the activity.

Jefferson: Gosh!

Anna: I guess that’s good though, as I appear on stage nearly nude.

Jefferson: I’m sure you will knock ‘em dead.

Anna: A naked girl on stage. What’s not to love?

Jefferson: Good point.

Anna: The timing is good, as I will look great in a bikini on vacation in a couple of weeks.

Jefferson: Yes, that is good timing.

Anna hurled steak after steak—enough red meat to choke a lion—but I wasn’t biting.

In time, she got back to her job, and I returned to what I was doing.

The next morning, I received another instant message.

Anna: Good morning.

Jefferson: Good morning.

Anna: How are you?

Jefferson: Well, and yourself?

Anna: Very good. The kids?

Jefferson: Good. They are with their mother.

Anna: So a little private time for Dad. I will be in your neighborhood this afternoon. Mind if I stop by?

Jefferson: I’ve got a deadline, but maybe for a little bit. What time?

Anna: Around one?

Jefferson: Okay. I’ll put on some lunch.

Anna: That would be nice. See you then.

She signed out.

I shaved and showered, then got dressed.

I returned to my work.

A little after one, Anna arrived. She did look a little thinner, her hair a little longer.

We kissed hello at the door—a very continental buss, nothing overheated—and she removed her shoes.

I offered her a glass of water. She accepted.

I brought two chill glasses to the sofa.

We talked. I asked her about her decision to be a volunteer. She spoke about her rehearsals, and her upcoming vacation.

She noted with disapproval that I had a book of nude photographs on my coffee table.

“Don’t you have the kids later? You should put that away.”

“Oh, thanks, I will.”

I remained seated.

“So,” she asked. “Meeting any interesting women, Mister Polyamory?”

“I meet all kinds of interesting people.”

“You know, I’ve been reading about polyamory. Did you know that full disclosure is a big part of it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, if you were truly polyamorous, you would be very open about who you are seeing.”

“Perhaps I am not truly polyamorous. At any rate, I think that tenet would apply to those with whom one shared a polyamorous relationship, not necessarily to those outside of it. I don’t think anyone is required to detail his sex life.”

She frowned. “You are just as circumspect as ever.”

“And you are just as nosey.”

“Huh.” She sat back. “Aren’t you going to ask me if I am seeing anyone?”

“Is there anything you would like to tell me?” I sipped my cold water.

“Well, I’ve been to a couple of cuddle parties, and those were fun.”

“I don’t know what that is.”

“Oh really? And I thought you were Mister Sex. Well, really I take that back, because a cuddle party isn’t about sex. People meet to cuddle—you know, to hug and caress.”

“That sounds like a sweet way to meet people.”

“I’m just there to cuddle. I don’t want to meet people.”

“Ah. And this is all clothed, I assume?”

“Yes, all clothed. The rules are really clear about that.”

“I’m sure they must be. Like, what are the rules?”

“Well, first, the most important rule is that you have to ask permission before you touch. Like this.” She sat up on her knees. “May I hug you?”

“You may.” I opened my arms.

With deliberate care, Anna slowly moved her body to drape over mine, wrapping an arm around my waist.

“See how it works?” she asked.

“I see.”

“Feels nice, right?”

“It does.”

“Now, may I put my hand on your face?”

“You may.”

She did, moving her face close to mine.

I instinctively leaned in to kiss.

“No!” she pulled back. “You forgot to ask permission!”

“Terribly sorry,” I replied. I was losing interest in this game.

She smiled. “Is there anything you want to ask me?”

“Yes. I wanted to know if there was anything you cared to ask me.”

She closed her eyes and pondered. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Very good.”

She stayed in my arms as we talked. She looked away for a moment, then back to me.

“You know, I have reevaluated my earlier statement.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, and now, I do have a question. May I kiss you?”

“Yes, you may.”

She closed her eyes and gently touched her lips to mine.

I received her kiss, parting my lips slightly.

She could feel me growing hard against her ribs. Her kiss became more passionate.

Then her kiss ended.

She looked into my eyes. “Thank you.”

“Thank you,” I said. “And you’re welcome. Now, are you hungry for lunch?”

“No, I’m not hungry.” She sat up. “In fact, I think I should be going.”

“If you like. Want something for the road?”

“What do you have in mind?”

“A sandwich or something? Maybe a bottle of water?”

“Um, sure. Water would be nice.”

“Easily done.” I stood and retrieved a bottle. I remained standing as I gave it to her.

“Thanks.” She took the bottle, then stood and passed me without touching. She walked to her shoes, slipping them on. “Okay. Thanks again for having me.”

“It was a pleasure.”

I opened the door.

She walked quickly out.

I closed and locked the door.

I ate lunch.

A few weeks later, I received a postcard from Anna. She was enjoying her vacation.

“See you soon,” it concluded. “Hugs and kisses, Anna.”

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