Epilogue
Benjamin waited his 30 days before he became, you should pardon the expression, a motherfucker. On that 31st day, well, on the night of the 31st day, Jacob and Marta, and Benjamin and I went on a double date. It was dinner and dancing and we laughed a lot. During our month we had all become comfortable with our new relationship. By tonight we were four adults who understood that we would be sharing different beds than we had been.
Dinner was good and none of us were what you'd call weight watchers. but there was just a hint of, well, awkwardness. The little double-entendre jokes fell a little flat. Things like that.
At the nightclub later, when we got out of the car, I moved quickly and took Jacob's arm, doing that two-hands-on-the-arm thing to show my possession. Marta did the same thing with her son and we went in for what turned out to be one of the nicest nights of my life.
We found a table and I took Marta's hand and said, "Be right back boys."
In the bathroom, I said, "Are you sure about this?"
Marta didn't hesitate. "Yes," she said, "God help me, yes. I haven't thought about anything else all week."
"Okay," I said, and reached under the skirt I was wearing and started squirming out of my panties.
"Well?" I said, looking at her as I bent in that way we've all done to push them down and step out of them.
She giggled then and started taking hers off. I watched her squirm and liked that her panties were bright blue and sheer.
"Now," I said, touching my face, and checking my lipstick in the mirror, "When we get back to the table ask Benjamin to dance and give them to him. Don't make a production of it, but don't try to hide what you're doing." I giggled and added, "It's a rush."
Back at the table I held out my hand to Jacob, my panties hanging from my fingers, and said, "Dance with me."
He grinned, accepted my panties, stood, carefully folded them, he actually did make a production of it, put them in his pocket, and then walked me onto the dance floor. I didn't want to be too obvious, but I watched as Benjamin accepted his mother's panties, smiled, stood, and led her onto the dance floor. For the rest of the night, it was about half and half, which man I danced with. And that set the tone for our life together.
For the next five years we lived as, well, a group marriage is a good way to describe it. In our marriage, Marta and I were the wives and a good wife never says "no." Clothes, around the house, were considered optional and like as not, one or both of us would greet our men with a smile and a beer, dressed in nothing but skin when they got home, Jacob from work, and Benjamin from school.
I was pleased and proud that Benjamin chose me most nights. About three-quarters of the time it would be me he took to bed as we said good night. There were, however, obviously some severe mommy issues at work. He would take his mother to bed on weekends often, after the beer and marijuana and sometimes other stimulants, Jacob seemed to have a connection to a cocaine dealer.
Not always, but often enough that it wasn't rare, Jacob and I would hear the unmistakable sounds of rough sex after Benjamin and Marta had gone to bed for the night. In fact, the only real cruelty I saw from Benjamin was with Marta. He seemed to truly enjoy spanking her as Jacob and I watched. But, then again, she seemed to enjoy it too.
As always happens, though, the good thing came to an end.
