They were words to freeze a girls heart.
“I have a fetish for tonight.” read Philip’s text.
Oh God, thought Stephanie. A fetish? Philip? Philip had a fetish?Philip?!?
He was the most normal bloke she’d ever met. He was ultra normal. She’d never seen a man who wore such practical clothing or who kept a torch in his bag ‘just in case’
“Just in case of what?” she’d asked that morning she’d discovered it.
“A power cut or if I get lost in the dark or if there’s a dark cupboard I need to find something in.”
Oh God the torch wasn’t part of whatever it was? Stephanie pressed her knees together.
She stared down at those few words on the screen, her fingers hovering above the touch pad.
What could it be? I mean she loved Philip, she loved him a lot.
He was kind and sweet, he held doors open for her, offered to pay the bill every time they went out for dinner. He was a nice guy.
But even for nice guys there were places Stephanie would not go.
She would not be peed on. That was a definite. Even if she could have a shower immediately afterwards. Because nobody wanted to be the someone that got weed on
It was undignified. What was the suitable expression to hold whilst someone weed on you? Bubbly delight? Aroused?
Stephanie was sure she couldn’t manage anything but a wrinkled nose disgust.
S&M? Did Philip want her to beat him with a cane? It seemed unlikely given all the fuss he’d made that time he banged his knees on her coffee table.
Oh God? Did he want to beat her? She blamed Fifty Shades if that was the case. There were millions of bemused husbands and partners who thought their wives needed blindfolds and handcuffs and all that Ann Summers rubbish.
What was wrong with a good, hard shag performed the standard way?
Her fingers hovered nearer to the keys.
Or maybe it wasn’t anything to do with her at all?
Maybe it was an object. Like shoes? Maybe Philip wanted to caress her shoes or sniff them. She’d be fine with that. Stephanie possessed many pairs of kick ass shoes whose inclusion in Philip’s pleasures might help justify the price she’d paid for them.
Or maybe he liked to dress up? In a g string and fishnets perhaps. Stephanie tried to picture Philip in such a guise. And failed.
He was just so ordinary, so Philip. He was the most unlikely man ever to possess a fetish.
She hit reply, typing ‘?’
Then sat back and waited for a reply.
It could be something good. Something fun. She shouldn’t be so closed mind about these things. Maybe trying something new would do wonders for their sex life. Not that there was anything unsatisfactory about it. Far from it. But still. If it was something Philip wanted to try, then there was no harm in that trying. And if she didn’t like it. Well they’d not try it again.
Her phone buzzed. Stephanie stared at the screen. It read.
“oh God. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Bloody autocorrect! I meant feta. I have a feta cheese for the salad tonight. What must you think of me.”