Sarah called at ten-twenty. "Hi," she said wearily.
"You sound exhausted," I said.
"I am. In fact, I'm so tired, I'm going to bed alone." I suppressed a chuckle. "Mike, I'm scared. What if I misread their figures? What if they really did project a loss? A lot of people bought their stock based on my report. They could sue the company over the wrong figures. If that happens, I'll be fired."
"Let's not look for trouble. Maybe you can blame their sloppy handwriting."
"It was all computer printouts. That's what you show analysts. Let's be realistic. I'm twenty-four hours away from the unemployment line. No other brokerage will touch me if my figures are wrong. Then what will we do?"
"We have enough money in the bank to pay off our mortgage. I make plenty of money. You wouldn't have to work. Maybe it's time we think about making a baby or two. That would keep you busy with carpools, PTA, diaper changing."
"Mike, you are the sweetest man I've ever known. Please don't divorce me. I couldn't take that now."
"That was never on my list of options."
"Thank you. I love you, Michael."
"I love you too."
"I need to work. I suppose I could become a prostitute. Men say I fuck like a whore."
"I've never had a whore, so I wouldn't know. Guys I know who have say their wives are better; they put love into the act that a whore doesn't."
"Maybe you should fuck one so you'd have firsthand knowledge."
"If you want to be one, I'll be a steady customer. Maybe you should go pick someone up. A good fuck always relaxes you,"
"I wish you were here so I could pick you up. I need your arms around me. They make me feel so safe. I'm so scared. I don't think I could sleep even if I did get laid."
We continued talking until one in the morning. I was as nervous as she was. I got her to masturbate herself to orgasm while we talked. She finally fell asleep with the phone in her hand.
Sarah called me at work the next afternoon. "I'm in the clear!" she screamed. "They showed me the wrong projections. The profit is in the next quarter, not this one."
"Great!" I said.
"I wish you were here to help me celebrate. I have to stay another couple days to redo the audits. I'll be home on Friday."
"Don't you wish you had taken the toy bag?"
"Leave it to a man to think of sex at a time like this. You're right. I'll get something in a store here. We should each have a set anyway. I want you to go out, pick up a girl, and screw your brains out. Pretend you are fucking me if it helps but get laid tonight. I'm going to. I might do it twice. I'm in a mood to party."
"If I can. I have no idea where to go."
"Go where I go, a hotel's bar. That's where the out-of-towners hang out. They don't know where else to go, so they stay close to their rooms. Only a total loser could strike out."
"What do I do? I've been out of circulation since I met you ten years ago."
"Pay for her drink. Compliment her hair. Just be your sweet lovable self. I can't believe I have to each my husband how to get into a girl's pants. You didn't have any trouble getting into mine."
"I haven't wanted to get into anybody else's since."
"Who are those other women who want to get you into bed?"
"They are at the corporate offices."
"They are out then. Saturday night we're going out and you can practice by picking me up. That shouldn't be too difficult. If you strike out with me, I'll run an ad to find you a mistress."
"You should start a school for wayward husband wannabies."
"I have to get back to work. Call me tonight?"
"You know I will."
Normally I go straight home after work, even on days when Sarah is away. In the past I hadn't considered doing anything else. That night I decided to get a drink, just one, before going home. Although I had Sarah's permission, nay, insistence, to play around, I wasn't planning to hit on anyone, just have the drink and go home. Maybe after we did a foursome, I'd be more comfortable with the idea of picking up other women. Julie and Fred were an unexpected happening, not deliberate infidelity. I could have reasoned that because Sarah had given me to pick someone up -- actually get picked up -- I wasn't being unfaithful. After all, she announced her intent to pick up a man. The advance knowledge of what each other was doing made it honest. It wouldn't be cheating under those circumstances. Still the fear of rejection held me back.
There was a hotel next door to the building where I worked. I left my car in the garage and walked over.
There was a woman seating herself at the bar who appeared to be alone. The stool beside her was empty, so I sat on it. I ordered a screwdriver. When the bartender placed her drink and mine on the bar, I placed enough money on the bar to cover both drinks. "May I have the privilege of buying you this drink?" I asked her.
She looked at me. Her hair was dark brown, as were her eyes. She appeared to be in her late twenties. Her breasts weren't quite as big as Sarah's, probably size 36C. Her blouse was open to the center of her cleavage. She was wearing a low-cut bra which emphasized her figure. Her legs were bare. "Thank you," she said. "I'm Becky."
"I'm Mike." We shook hands.
As I picked up my screwdriver with my left hand, she spotted my wedding band. "Looking for a little action before going home?"