"Good." Becca leaned back against the counter and crossed her arms. "So how do we find someone? We got lucky with Kelly… she fell into our laps. We can't count on that happening again. I mean, we could go out to gay bars every night for the next month and not meet someone as perfect as her.”
"Apps?" Ellie suggested.
Becca raised an eyebrow. "You want to go on an app and advertise that you're looking for someone to sleep with your wife while you watch?"
Ellie laughed. “I was thinking a little bit more subtle than that. But essentially, yes."
"There are apps for this?"
"Becca, there are apps for everything. There’ll definitely be an app for this.”
***
There were, it turned out, more than enough apps for this.
After some research, firmly Ellie's domain naturally, she approached it the way she approached any problem… methodically and with far too many browser tabs open at once. They ended up settling on a platform that specifically existed to bring together couples and individuals interested in ethical non-monogamy. Initially they’d looked at some of the hookup apps but they didn’t feel quite right, despite the intent. This one seemed to be more of a community with matchmaking features, and from what they could see and what people online said theuser base seemed to be genuinely engaged with doing things responsibly.
They built a profile together that Sunday, sat on the sofa with Ellie's laptop between them. It was a strange exercise… describing what they wanted in clinical enough terms to be clear but human enough to attract the right person. Becca wrote most of the text, her therapist's instinct for precise yet open language coming in handy, while Ellie handled the photos (a shot of them at brunch with obligatory mimosas in hand, trying not to over-promise but also wanting not to under-promise).
They made sure it was honest, that was the most important thing to both of them.Married couple, mid-twenties, looking for a woman to be intimate with one of them while the other watches. First time using an app for this. Respectful, communicative, no pressure.
The responses were mixed but plentiful. Some were exactly what they'd hoped for: thoughtful, curious, experienced. Some, inevitably, were not. One memorable message consisted entirely of an eggplant emoji followed by a question mark, which Becca balked at but gave Ellie a fit of the giggles.
By the Monday night they'd narrowed it down to a few genuine prospects and were messaging back and forth with three women who seemed promising. One in particular stood out, a woman called Cass. Thirty-one, she described herself as androgynous and worked as a personal trainer. Her photos showed someone confident and charismatic, short dark hair, angular features, a lean, muscular build that spoke to serious dedication to her physique. She said that she was experienced with couples, she was articulate, just the right balance between flirty and seriousin her messages, and explicitly stated that she understood and respected the watching dynamic.
"She's hot," Becca said, looking at Cass's profile over Ellie's shoulder when it first came up. Her voice had an enthusiasm to it that Ellie recognised… as if she knew she was risking sounding over enthusiastic, so was tempted to downplay it so as not to let on, but then to avoid seeming like she was downplaying it she made herself sound even more enthusiastic by accident. Ellie tried and almost succeeded in hiding her grin when she noticed.
"She is," Ellie agreed, watching Becca scroll through the photos again. "She's also extremely your type."
Becca looked at her, feigning surprise. "What do you mean?"
"Bec, come on. Short hair, androgynous, muscular, looks like she could bench press a car? You've had a thing for that look since college. Remember that teaching assistant in your abnormal psych class? The one with the undercut? You couldn't string a sentence together around her."
Becca went bright pink. "That was... I was twenty. Everyone had a crush on her."
"You crushed on her so hard you changed your study schedule to be in the library when she was. I watched it happen."
"I was studying more. It was a difficult class."
"Sure." Ellie smiled. "And if you saw her today?” Becca did a passable impression of a goldfish as she struggled to find the words. Ellie’s smile became a grin. “Exactly. I'm just saying…Cass is exactly the kind of woman you’d fantasise about if you were single. That's not a bad thing. I'm just noting it."
"Noted," Becca said, still pink. "Is it a problem?"
Ellie thought about it honestly. "I don't think so. You know I’m more into feminine types, but we’re testing the variable. If this works with someone who's the opposite of Kelly it proves the dynamic is the engine, not the specific person."
"And if it works because she's my type?"
“You admit it then?” Ellie teased.
“Yeah…”
"Then we learn that too. Let's meet her," Ellie said. "Drinks tomorrow?"
***
They met Cass at a bar on South Congress on Tuesday. Neutral territory, low stakes, just a drink to see if there was a connection. Absolutely nothing was going to happen that night, they’d made it clear and Cass had agreed.
Cass was exactly as her profile suggested, which was a good start: confident, direct, physically imposing in a way that grabbed several people’s attention when she walked through the bar. She was wearing a fitted black t-shirt and jeans, her short hair styled like it was a statement of intent, silver rings on most of her fingers, tattoos visible on both her arms. She shook both their hands firmly, ordered a beer, and got straight to business.
