Morgan wasn\u2019t able to tell anyone about his change of circumstance. Eight years Morgan and his wife Nancy had not been intimate, avoiding even the most incidental physical contact. Then, on the 27th of March at 9 PM, Morgan found himself in hand restraints, his back pinned against the bars of his four-poster, gasping for air with Nancy\u2019s right breast sealing both his nostrils.<\/p>\n
This had been promised early on in their marriage and was the hope that had sustained him through the years of drought. After the initial two-month marathon of sexual activity, the frequency decreased and Morgan had felt himself hard done by, Nancy\u2019s excuses appeared increasingly capricious. At the moment of his greatest agitation, screaming invectives at Nancy\u2019s serene countenance, she had held his hand and spoken to him evenly, with calm and wisdom. \u201cDon\u2019t be so angry. It doesn\u2019t matter if we don\u2019t have sex this time or the next. We have a whole lifetime to be together.\u201d It had seemed so natural and logical a statement, even a deepening of their relationship: Nancy was in it for the long haul. Morgan had been waiting what felt like a whole lifetime for that \u201cnext time\u201d and yet despite that self-deception, the expected had unexpectedly arrived.<\/p>\n
It wasn\u2019t a one off either. They were back at it that night. More surprising still was the resumption less than seven hours later when he woke, then again that evening and most of that next night. Even his younger self would have had difficulty keeping up. Yet for Morgan, it felt as if his body was making up for lost time. He found the frequency of activity difficult but, surprisingly, not impossible. His heart was a greater issue: Morgan was out of shape. He told himself that if he survived this ordeal, he\u2019d work at getting himself in better fitness, now that there was reason to suffer a regimen of self-imposed brutality.<\/p>\n
It was like being together for the first time all over again and yet the sex was different. Nancy had always placed curbs on excess in their lovemaking: not too much kissing, saliva, time. And there had been a requirement to keep the encounter as clean as possible: showers before and after, shaving, perspiration kept to a minimum. Now Nancy, drenched in sweat, had her tongue up his anus before moving on to the next round.<\/p>\n
Had Nancy suffered some sort of brain damage? \u00a0Maybe a blow to the head? \u00a0He\u2019d read about that causing personality shifts of this magnitude. Yet when they weren\u2019t exploring new possibilities in their lovemaking, Nancy was treating him with the same contempt she\u2019d been showing him for years.<\/p>\n
What about Nancy having an affair? Well, Morgan thought to himself, he wasn\u2019t going to put a halt to this glorious moment by allowing his jealous nature to get the better of him. Not that he didn\u2019t care. An affair would render the whole miracle tawdry and meaningless. It mattered if that was really the cause. But he wasn\u2019t going to assume or obsess about it. In the absence of any evidence, he was going to stop himself speculating.<\/p>\n
Morgan could tell no one because Nancy would be mortified if it ever got back to her. And besides, he wasn\u2019t sure he wanted to be discussing his sex life, his and Nancy\u2019s now quite extraordinary and intimate sex life, with others. Word of his boasting would threaten this new phase in their lives, would cut short a process that currently appeared without limit. Yet Morgan was desperate to tell someone, if only to convince himself it was all actually happening, see somebody else\u2019s shock reflected back to him. Though lawyers were sworn to confidentiality, he didn\u2019t know one and couldn\u2019t imagine booking a meeting just to, essentially, gossip. A doctor would do but would give him grief over his weight, perhaps get him to consider stopping. Psychiatrist was, at base, a doctor so a psychologist then. Morgan set up an appointment at the end of the week. The next day, Nancy surprised Morgan on his lunch hour. She\u2019d brought dessert: \u00a0whipped cream and strawberries served on her body stretched out on his desk. Why risk spoiling perfection? \u00a0He cancelled the appointment.<\/p>\n
Then, just as suddenly, everything stopped. He came home and was served dinner, literally. Morgan was careful not to express surprise or disappointment. It was Nancy who was in control here. In fact, since this new phase had begun, they hadn\u2019t actually spoken to each other about it, the sex happening as if it wasn\u2019t actually happening. Talking might make it all go away, permanently.<\/p>\n
That night, still nothing. Morgan couldn\u2019t get to sleep. He had a presentation at work the following morning, made a point to be well rested before a public speaking engagement. This could be a problem. Maybe Nancy was showing him the courtesy of a night\u2019s rest. Yet how short-sighted of her to set up the expectation of fornication only to withdraw it when he needed it most. Nancy snored lightly beside him. Morgan considered assailing her while she slept, then got up and poured himself a drink. He wasn\u2019t a rapist, nor, for that matter, a drinker. He knew the alcohol would affect his thinking the next day but it was better than no sleep at all. He couldn\u2019t manage an all-nighter at his age.<\/p>\n
Was it all over, he wondered? \u00a0He had to resist pressing Nancy or it definitely would be. Well, he reflected, it had been worth it. If this was all, it had been worth an eight-year wait. He\u2019d wait eight more. Morgan closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.<\/p>\n
Two hours later, he woke to find Nancy riding his morning erection. He wasn\u2019t aware that he got those any more. He remembered that sexual activity in his youth had increased sexual performance and desire rather than wearing it down. Could the same still hold true now?<\/p>\n
At work, Morgan nodded off before his presentation. The CEO called him in to ask for an explanation. He\u2019d been feeling ill, he said, and was ordered to take the rest of the afternoon off. Morgan was afraid to go home lest he find another man in his bed. Not knowing where to go and utterly exhausted, he checked himself into a hotel and slept the rest of the afternoon.<\/p>\n
At home that night, Nancy quietly placed a pornographic DVD in the player. They ate dinner while watching, as if they were viewing any feature film Nancy had brought home. They then moved to the bedroom to re-enact some of the acrobatics they\u2019d witnessed.<\/p>\n
Six months of steady sexual activity later, Morgan was twenty pounds lighter and in better shape than he\u2019d been in decades. He felt, for the first time in his life, to be in full command of his business and personal affairs: a man of the moment. For several weeks, Nancy had been considering introducing a third person into their lovemaking, a woman at first. Morgan thought of their friend Jill who had recently divorced. Nancy informed him that they were hiring a professional. She would leave it to him.<\/p>\n
Morgan still hadn\u2019t told anyone. With each passing day, the stakes of a revelation seemed higher. Every lull in activity set Morgan on a course of unmitigated anxiety. In some ways, he missed his old life. Not really, but kind of. If he could only talk to someone about it, anyone.<\/p>\n
\u201cHey asshole,\u201d he heard on the other end of the line.<\/p>\n
\u201cHey jerk,\u201d he responded laconically. Derrick Danson was Morgan\u2019s oldest friend. They\u2019d been inseparable in high school, even dated girls who were best friends. They now spoke every couple of years.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m going to be in your neck of the woods next week,\u201d Derrick said.<\/p>\n
\u201cDinner?\u201d Morgan inquired uneasily, wondering when he\u2019d find the time.<\/p>\n
\u201cBook tour,\u201d Derrick said. \u201cCome see me.\u201d<\/p>\n
Between the two of them, it was always Morgan who was going to be the writer. Derrick never wrote anything more original than a couplet on the bathroom wall, \u201cHate Cum, Love Cunt,\u201d being one of his more creative efforts.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat day?\u201d Morgan asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cMonday.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201c27th?\u201d Morgan inquired<\/p>\n
\u201cThink so.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShit,\u201d Morgan said.<\/p>\n
Derrick laughed. \u201cGot something better to do?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, sort of… yes,\u201d Morgan pronounced. It was the half-year anniversary. \u201cNancy and I have arrangements from way back.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cJesus, that\u2019s too bad,\u201d Derrick said. \u201cHow is old Nance?<\/p>\n
\u201cShe\u2019s not old, I can tell you that,\u201d Morgan said.<\/p>\n
\u201cGood for her,\u201d Derrick said.<\/p>\n
\u201cGood for me.\u201d Morgan was getting close to spilling the beans. \u201cHow about\u00a0Tuesday?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNah, fly out 6 AM.\u201d<\/p>\n
Morgan didn\u2019t want to tell Nancy about Derrick\u2019s call\u2014his dropping by or ringing up might be the nail in the coffin to his state of bountiful bliss\u2014but he knew he had to risk saying something. Derrick had a book reading and would love to see her, he said. Nancy had always disliked Derrick and was glad of an excuse to avoid seeing him. \u201cIf you want to go,\u201d she said.
\nFuck, Morgan thought.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy publisher asked me,\u201d Derrick began, leaning over the microphone, \u201cwhat was my purpose in writing this book. And I said… \u2018to get it done.\u2019\u201d \u00a0Derrick paused for the titters to subside.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s more than a smart-ass answer. It\u2019s the first principle that guides what I do: you have to see things through. The other thing is: get it right.\u201d<\/p>\n
So they\u2019ll be talking about the aesthetics of book publishing, Morgan thought.<\/p>\n
\u201cSee things through, get it right,\u201d Derrick repeated.<\/p>\n
Morgan just had to get back to Nancy.<\/p>\n
\u201cI was one hundred seventy pages into my book,\u201d Derrick continued, \u201cwhen I found my opening line. Had to start from there. You know what it\u2019s like giving up a hundred and seventy hard-earned pages of work?\u201d<\/p>\n
There were a number of examples Derrick had of what starting over would look like, each one relating to a different job. Morgan felt himself to be in this situation already though he was near page five hundred of a marathon seven or eight-hundred-page endeavor.<\/p>\n
Once Derrick had finished, he was keen on listening to the two other readers but Morgan was firm\u2014he was leaving now or they could squeeze in a quick dinner.<\/p>\n
Morgan ordered the soup\u2014he was looking to leave.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy the hurry?\u201d Derrick wanted to know.<\/p>\n
This was Morgan\u2019s moment to finally confide everything about Nancy but it didn\u2019t feel right with Derrick being so high on his writing.<\/p>\n
\u201cI have to be somewhere,\u201d Morgan said.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt was shit,\u201d Derrick observed.<\/p>\n
\u201cLooking to avoid my criticism,\u201d Morgan said.<\/p>\n
\u201cThere\u2019s criticism?\u201d Derrick inquired, half smiling.<\/p>\n
Morgan laughed. He wished he had all night to hang out. Sexual politics could be a pain in the neck. \u201cYou\u2019re telling these young executives that writing your book is like being underbid\u2014that\u2019s kind of dire.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe whole thing was shit,\u201d with Derrick. \u201cYou know me, Morgan. You\u2019ve known me from high school. We both know I\u2019m not that bright.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou got a publisher,\u201d Morgan said. \u201cThat\u2019s more than I can say.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s the thing, Morg.\u201d Derrick sighed in exasperation, \u201cPeople think I know what the hell I\u2019m doing. They always have. I say I\u2019m going to write a book. I got publishers knocking at my door.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBased on your work experience,\u201d Morgan remarked.<\/p>\n
\u201cBased on shit,\u201d Derrick said. \u201cIf you believe your story is the most amazing thing that\u2019s ever happened\u2014you got yourself a fucking book.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou think,\u201d Morgan chuckled, \u201cyour life is the most amazing thing that\u2019s ever happened?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t you?\u201d Derrick said.<\/p>\n
\u201cDoesn\u2019t everyone?\u201d he said. \u201cYou ask people, have them concentrate on their lives, they\u2019ll tell you the most amazing things. Take Nance. Have you ever thought to ask her what\u2019s the most remarkable thing she\u2019s done?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFucking my brains out,\u201d Morgan said. The opportunity was too perfect.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo shit,\u201d Derrick said.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe\u2019s like a friggin force of nature,\u201d Morgan said. \u201cI\u2019m helpless to stop it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cLike what kind of stuff?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou name it,\u201d Morgan said.<\/p>\n
\u201cGeez.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah,\u201d Morgan said.<\/p>\n
\u201cOur Nancy,\u201d Derrick said.<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah,\u201d Morgan said.<\/p>\n
Derrick exhaled slowly, shaking his head in disbelief. \u201cSo you letting anyone else in on the action?\u201d He raised his eyebrows hopefully.<\/p>\n
\u201cRight now, she\u2019s only considering women,\u201d Morgan said.<\/p>\n
\u201cJesus!\u201d Derrick\u2019s voice skipped an octave. \u201cNancy?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know,\u201d Morgan sighed, shaking his head. \u201cEight years, nothing. Then one day.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou should write a story,\u201d Derrick said.<\/p>\n
\u201cNah,\u201d Morgan said, \u201cthis isn\u2019t a story, Rick, this is my life. Real. I\u2019m living it. I have no idea what\u2019s coming next.\u201d<\/p>\n
Arriving home that evening, Morgan discovered Nancy with a woman he\u2019d never seen before. They were deeply into each other. Nancy mumbled over the buzz of their sex toys, something about nothing ever getting done if she relied on Morgan to do it. Had he enjoyed himself seeing Derrick?<\/p>\n
The phone rang and Morgan was only too grateful for an excuse to back away from the scene.<\/p>\n
\u201cHey asshole,\u201d he heard.<\/p>\n
\u201cGet off the line,\u201d Morgan whispered urgently.<\/p>\n
\u201cGeez, you\u2019re in the middle of it now, aren\u2019t you?\u201d Derrick chuckled.<\/p>\n
\u201cCan\u2019t talk,\u201d Morgan said.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m calling for the play by play.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m hanging up now,\u201d Morgan said.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhoa, I\u2019m just joshin with you,\u201d Derrick said hastily. \u201cI\u2019m calling because… I feel it\u2019s only fair to warn you, I am going to use your story.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYour fucking your wife story,\u201d Derrick said. \u201cIt\u2019s like the perfect example of what I want to say.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI told you that in confidence,\u201d Morgan said. \u201cYou write it, Rick, and our friendship is over.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ll let you get back to your fucking,\u201d Derrick said.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m not kidding, Rick. A friend of hers will tell her about it or you\u2019ll do something like talk on the radio\u2014she listens to the radio! \u00a0Something you do will get back to her.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI won\u2019t give her name. You\u2019ll forgive me,\u201d Derrick said.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ll tell your dad,\u201d Morgan warned.<\/p>\n
Derrick paused a moment. \u201cMy dad\u2019s pushing ninety,\u201d he said. \u201cHe doesn\u2019t recognize people anymore.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe\u2019ll recognize me,\u201d Morgan said evenly.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s low Morg.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cJesus, Rick. I\u2019m protecting my life.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s only sex, Morg,\u201d Derrick said.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s sex with my wife,\u201d Morgan said. \u201cI\u2019ve been waiting a whole lifetime for this!\u201d<\/p>\n
Morgan suddenly realized he was screaming. Hanging up the phone, he turned towards the bedroom to see Nancy standing in the doorway.<\/p>\n
\u201cUhm,\u201d he said, \u201cFrickin tele-marketer, just would not leave me alone.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI tell\u2019m to fuck off before they get a chance to say Hello,\u201d the prostitute announced, coming up behind Nancy and kissing her neck.\u00a0\u201cDon\u2019t want to spoil the party but I got to leave in twenty minutes,\u201d she added.<\/p>\n
Nancy fell back into her arms and the two landed back on the bed.<\/p>\n
Morgan watched them in trepidation for several minutes, then slowly began to undress. He had no idea what he was supposed to do. In porn films, the women were always hell bent on satisfying the man but these two didn\u2019t seem to be that aware of him. This might be a good thing, he thought, increasing the possibility that Nancy hadn\u2019t heard his phone conversation. He wondered if he\u2019d gotten through to that jerk. Morgan was trying to hold it all together but his time of grace was slipping away from him.<\/p>\n
He quietly walked to the edge of the bed.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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