Back in the day, I read an experience on a forum, either a true story or a made-up one. A couple went to a swinger party, or maybe just a regular party; I’m not entirely sure. There, they met another couple.
The women ended up talking in the bathroom about all sorts of things. At one point, the newly met friend asked if she found her partner attractive. She said yes, but added, ‘You know, I’m not alone here…’
‘Don’t worry about that, I’ll take care of him,’ the other woman said with a wink.
Later, they all went up to a hotel room. The wife and the other couple’s man went into the bedroom for some private time, while the husband stayed outside with the woman. They talked because she said she needed to loosen him up. She offered to make drinks, then noticed she had run out of ice. She excused herself and went into the corridor to get some.
Meanwhile, the husband could hear the other man with his wife. Twenty or thirty minutes later, the woman returned, apologizing and saying she had run into a friend in the hallway. Eventually, things wrapped up in the room, and the husband quickly left with his wife.
Later, he told her how horrible the experience had been for him, how he felt tortured and left out. As the wife thought back on what had happened, she realized something unsettling: when the woman said she would ‘take care of him,’ she hadn’t meant intimacy at all. She meant distracting him, keeping him occupied, and making sure he wouldn’t interfere.
In that moment, ‘taking care’ turned out to mean two very different things.