Somehow, without knowing how we got here, Nick and I were both undressed. It was extremely surprising to be naked with the father of my daughter Emi’s new best friend, but I wasn’t embarrassed. In fact, I was very turned on – even desperate. Nick’s beard was soft and tickly as he kissed me, on my neck and on my breasts. His hands were all over me: on my back, my waist...
His body was not as muscly as my ex-boyfriend Eliot’s, but it didn’t dampen my enthusiasm. I could feel Nick’s excitement; he was on top of me now, fluidly, almost as if we were in water, and pressing my legs apart. He was so light. I needed more pressure, so I pulled his hand down between my legs. That felt so good! Just a little harder and I’d explode.
And as I did, I lurched into consciousness. It was my own hand between my legs. I was in my own bed, all on my own. Oh my God, I’d just had a sex dream about Gracie’s dad! What was I thinking?. Emi, seven, had moved into a new friend group. I liked her new best friend Gracie better than her old one; Gracie didn’t cry performatively for one thing. I liked her father, Nick, too. He was long ago separated from Gracie’s mum, and a devoted dad. He was also friendly. After we’d arranged the girls’ first playdate, he’d texted me to ask how I managed raising three kids while he struggled with one.
