Martha laughed. "I don't have any trouble promising that, flat out. Every time I see someone with a tongue stud or nose ring or something, I think how dumb they are. I've read about risk of infection there. And the thought of having something that could catch and pull in really sensitive areas . . . "
Lynda said, "I can't see any reason that I would do that, but if something comes up I promise I'll try to talk with you first."
Scott looked sharply at her, and then said to Martha, "That's pretty much what I said when she asked me to promise not to tell you about her talk with me, about her offer. Lynda, were you twitting me about that, or was it just coincidence?"
Lynda looked smug. "I'll never tell. No, it was on purpose, of course. But I promise I'll give you as much warning as you gave me." She stuck her tongue out at him. He relaxed just a little. Sometimes that evening Lynda had been straightforward and serious, but mostly she had seemed to be surrounded by a dark cloud of sulkiness or resentment or something like that. Playful, pert teasing was good, he thought. She actually sounded relaxed and cheerful, for the moment.
Scott said, "There are still a few things we need to talk about. One of them is a condition, and I really should have brought it up earlier, but I was talking too much already. As someone forcefully reminded me. And it's really mostly a condition on me.
"Now, when Lynda first came and talked to me, as she kept upping the stakes, she wound up offering me sex for as long as I'd keep Martha on staff. By extension, I applied that to both of you, and when Martha and I talked she essentially agreed to that. But that's actually just crazy. If Martha starts doing a completely perfect job, there's no way you two should have to keep doing things with me. On the other hand, if she messes up so badly that I have to fire her, obviously that's the end of it. So here's what I propose. We'll set a limit, kind of a long one, starting whenever Martha is fully protected from pregnancy, and running say three months. If she messes up, more than normal and reasonable for the job but not enough that I just can't keep her on, we start the three months over. At the end of that time, no more deal, and Martha's on her own. What do you say? Is three months unreasonably long? But you did implicitly, and maybe explicitly, promise indefinitely."
They just sat there for a moment, the two women looking at each other. Lynda kind of shrugged at Martha. Martha got up, wiped her hands and mouth on a napkin, and came over to Scott. She bent over and put her arms around him and pulled him up. "Scott, we don't deserve you! I presume Lynda thought about what she was saying, that she wasn't just babbling, and when you said it back there I certainly meant to agree to keep it up indefinitely. The real question is, is three months
long
enough to make sure I'm doing OK? If it was just me, I'd counter-propose four or six months, but I'm not going to commit Lynda on this. I think we'll accept your three months, with thanks from both of us, keeping in mind that we offered this indefinitely. And depending on how things have gone I may try to renegotiate my part of this at that point!" Then she kissed him very thoroughly. When the kiss ended, she didn't let go of him, but stood there, and then kissed him again. When they broke off, she said, "Scott, thank you for looking at our interests. Again!" She went back and sat down.
Scott said, "I can't think of any other conditions to add. I do have some other things we need to discuss, but if everyone's done eating then let's pack stuff up." They combined the rest of the pizza onto one plate, with another covering it, and put it in the tiny fridge in one corner of Scott's office. Used napkins and the boxes went into the wastebasket. Scott said, "Please, help me remember to finish bagging that and take it out when we're all done." They took turns in the bathroom as well.
Martha said, "Do you want to talk, or do you want Lynda to do her part first?"
Scott looked at Lynda. "If Lynda is willing, let's go ahead with that first. Martha, be warned: if talking later gets me too turned on, you may have to, um, have a little dessert yourself, though."
Lynda came over. Scott pulled his pants down and sat again, and she knelt beside the chair. It really didn't take all that much longer than it had for Martha. A couple of times, he had to say, sharply, "Careful!" when her teeth hurt him. Lynda managed to swallow most of the semen, but a little dribbled down out of her mouth. She grabbed at one of the leftover napkins before it went any further, while still keeping him in her mouth. Scott eventually said, "That's enough. Thank you. . . . Was that worse than you'd expected?"
"No, actually much better. The taste, well, it's not what I'd order on a pizza, but I've actually had to eat things I hated a lot worse."
14.
You Don't Have to Say You Love Me, Just Be Close at Hand
They got settled, and she rinsed her mouth out. Scott said, "This is just something where it would be nice if we're all on the same page, and we can make sure nobody's more uncomfortable than we can help. Let's see, where to start? Maybe here: I'm very sure you've never heard me swear, at anyone or anything, however upset I am. Right? . . . And I'm not comfortable, myself, with much vulgarity, though at some point I had my nose rubbed in the fact that some things I'd said all my life, 'screwed up' for example, were offensively vulgar to some other people. But if I talk about sex, or think about it to myself, I normally use kind of clinical terminology. Penis, not dick or cock or dong or prick or rod. Vagina, pelvic area, genital area, vulva, not pussy, cunt, or I don't know what else. (Vulva was one I had only met in reading before I got married, and I wasn't really sure exactly what it meant and had never felt the need to look it up. I learned to use that term from my wife.) I find cutesy language of the sort some writers seem so fond of nauseating, too. I'd never say love hole or love canal or meat pole or hot button or love button or anything like that, and I really ask that you don't talk like that to me. I talk about intercourse or just sex meaning normal straight vaginal sex. For oral sex I might say something like eat me up. I wouldn't say blow job unless in conversation with people who did. And, um, I was already being too cutesy myself when I said 'dessert' to Martha a minute ago—I'm sorry. Come and came, but I may talk about orgasms too. Semen. Ejaculate. Breasts, not boobs or tits, mostly at least. I'd say butt or behind or rump or something but not ass. If this all sounds strange, well, put it down as more of Scott's weird hangups.
"And I'm likely to say 'have sex' not 'make love', just because it sounds to me like that means emotions we're not likely to have are involved. I noticed that you both said 'make love', consistently, and if that's what comes naturally to you, even when the subject is sex with me, I won't object. But I'm not likely to say it myself. I'd never say fuck or screw, unless I meant, oh, that I was doing things hard and fast in a way not intended to be good for you at all. I guess that means I'd use those terms, but not as referring to normal intercourse. I did say 'screwed' to Lynda last week, but I was making a pun.
"If the terms I use make you uncomfortable, I want to know it up front. If there's something you habitually or automatically use, tell me now. If you can't stand something I say, ditto."
The two women smiled at each other. He thought maybe Lynda was resisting an urge to roll her eyes. Martha said, "Well, most of those things we've just never had occasion to talk about. We'd tend to say a few things you think are crude, left to ourselves, but I won't have any problem at all with what you prefer, and I'm pretty sure Lynda won't either. I mean, with each other we'd say boobs, but we do know what breasts are! Like that. Somehow I'm not surprised that you prefer what you do. Or that you've never said any of these things to us in the past."
"There's another thing that's slightly related. Remember that my only experience all relates to sex with the woman I was married to for years, whom I still miss dreadfully. Would you mind too much if I sometimes address you as honey or sugar? And if at some point you want to address me with pet names, it's fine, depending. I would object to being called baby or daddy, and especially to any kind of cutesy baby talk, and probably some other things. If you ever were to find yourselves inclined, you can be sure that I'll tell you if you say something I find too awful. So if I'm affectionate in ways you don't want, just to tell me right away, OK?"
