I was in physical pain. You would think I hadn't done this sort of thing before. I cowered in bed for hours waiting for Devin to come home. He would be drunk. If they had gone to a strip club he would be horny and he would fuck me. It wasn't rape. It was my duty. I could only hope he was so drunk he couldn't tell I had slept with another man only hours ago. I thought I was going to throw up from the stress of it all. This wasn't the first time. I had been with other men before. God, if Devin knew I couldn't imagine what he would do. He could be violent. He had never been violent with me before. He had caught me once, not having sex but I was in another man's arms. He had punched the car window and broken his hand. It was only by chance that he had shown up in front of the bar before I had gotten the man's pants off. I had been tempting the hapless insurance adjuster all night with the prospect of a blow job, Devin had just barely arrived in time. I heard the front door slam and laid breathlessly waiting.
He was drunk. He stumbled through the bedroom door. His shirt was already open. I struggled to get his shoes off. I knew what was coming and sat up. I pulled my favorite chemise off before he had an opportunity to wreck it. He talked to me but fuck if I could tell what he said. I laid back and prepared for it.
His attempt was clumsy and unsuccessful. He blamed me. I was getting too fat to turn him on. It made me angry but I let it go, arguing with him when he was like this was pointless. I didn't move I just let him collapse beside me and pass out. I gave it a minute. I wanted him to be past the point of being able to wake up. I tried to be silent as I slipped out of bed and made my way to the kitchen. An hour before, Scott, my new lover, my old crush, had showed up at my house smelling of cigarettes and now I wanted one. I typed different messages into my phone deleting each one. Finally I settled on telling him I loved him. It was silly, stupid, and premature. It wasn't that I didn't love him. I loved them all. Each and every man I slept with. Shit, I loved the ones I never got the chance to sleep with too. My sister, the only one who truly knew what a slut I was said I just told myself I loved them so that I didn't have to admit that I was just using them. I thought of my sister and sent a second message to him asking him to ignore the first.
Ever since my friend Tracey had told me who her daughter's boyfriend's father was I had obsessed over him. As kids, Scott never seemed to have any sort of interest in me. I was a gawky awkward girl. I knew Tracey and knew that if I expressed an interest she would make it happen. She was devious. She thrived on drama. She wanted life to be like the Spanish soap operas she was addicted to. It took her all of three days. The minute I saw him I decided I wanted him.
Just like when we were kids he seemed frustratingly distant despite my best moves. He had forced me to chase after him and still, even having forced my card into his hand I didn't think he would call. Maybe Devin was right. I was getting old. I was getting heavy. It wasn't going to be as easy as it used to be.
I was stunned when he arrived at my door.
Then he kissed me.
Yes, I have cheated before. As penance for my sins I keep a detailed record of my indiscretions. No, it's not written down anywhere but I can name each and every one of them and how far it went. There were three men with whom I carried on inappropriate relationships online. I have had three one-night things. I have had two relationships that were purely casual and I had one affair turn serious. I actually had let it go on to the point where he wanted me forever onward, to have and to hold from this day forth. He wanted my kids. He wanted to tell Devin and wanted to whisk me away with him to live happily ever after. It broke my heart to tell him that wasn't how it worked.
This was different and it was different because of the way that he kissed me. Almost from the moment our lips met I knew I was in over my head. He kissed me neither too hard nor too delicately. He didn't drool when we kissed but his mouth wasn't dry. He knew how to touch me as we kissed. Fuck, he wasn't too eager but knew how to tease my body to the point I was putty in his fingers.
Picking me up was a nice touch.
I don't know how he knew to be firm with my nipples. He didn't even hesitate he just did it. Where did he get that kind of confidence? He did it at the very moment I couldn't do a damn thing about it, my son poking around the house to sneak his stash of pot out from under his bed.
Maybe I did love this one.
I didn't sleep all night. I sat on the sofa watching old movies. I loved black and white movies. I had never realized Cary Grant and Marilyn Monroe had made a film together. It was my new favorite. As the sun came up I knew I had to see him again I just didn't know how.
I was afraid to send him another text. Did he know how to properly hide them from his wife? Men were foolish with these things. I had seen them fuck up too many times. When I finally put on coffee I sent him a calendar invitation. I had his work email rather than any sort of home address and I didn't want to send anything that might get him in trouble. I was just a realtor trying to sell a house. I sent these sorts of calendar invitations all the time. It gave a time and a place. I probably wouldn't be able to do a damn thing to him at an open house but I would get to see him.
Secretly I hoped that would be enough. He would be in some way unappealing and I could record him in the list of one-night stands. He would go to the top of that list but at least I wouldn't worry about it anymore.
The morning passed so slowly it was painful. I drank the whole pot of coffee before my son woke up. I made him eggs and bacon. When it was finally late enough I could run the shower without risking a temper tantrum from Devin I slipped past him to the bathroom.
I felt lazy and pulled my hair back instead of drying it. I stood naked at the mirror applying my makeup. Normally I am too self-conscious to spend that long looking at my flab, my scars, and my stretch marks but I was thinking about Scott and the hour we had spent in my daughter's bed. I was letting anticipation get the better of me.
I pulled on my skinniest jeans, the days when realtors sat for hours on a Saturday dressed like bankers were well behind us and Jeans were acceptable. I tore violently through my closet. I knew the top I wanted and I wasn't going to settle for any less.
I had bought it in New York on a shopping trip with my sister. It was a backless black shirt. It was a dirty trick to play on him. If he actually showed up I knew he would notice. There was no way to wear a bra with it. Men could be so easy. Genetics made them naturally susceptible to breasts and even gay men found naturally swaying breasts hard to resist.
I found it and pulled it on. Devin had never seen it. He didn't need to see it now. I pulled on a lightweight jacket in case he happened to stir and watch me leave. I slipped out of the bedroom as quietly as I could.
I was at the home when I gave in and checked my email. I deleted all the crap I had gotten over the night, all of the ads and spam that filled my inbox. All I had been looking for was the email telling me he accepted the invitation and I didn't have it.
I placed a sign in the yard but selfishly neglected to put any up on the streets that led into the neighborhood. I had this idea of how it would go. We would sit and talk and drink the bottles of water I set out until the hours I had posted for the open house were over and then I would attack him and see if last night was real or a fluke brought about by three beers and two oversized glasses of vodka and soda.
I watched the clock.
The next-door neighbors stepped in to see the house. They had the same floor plan. They wanted me to show them around and I tried not to reveal my contempt for them and how they were wasting my time.
I showed the house twice to realtors and once to a nice Asian couple who seemed interested but wouldn't sign the registry. It pissed me off. I was a little hung over and I got angry quickly.
It passed noon and then one without a visitor, sexual conquest or otherwise.
I drank yet another bottle of water and peed for the sixth time of the day. At least I got my daily intake of water in. I ate every one of the damn cookies.
