Family Affairs

After Ricky left for school, Mary took a shower and got dressed. The print-decorated man-tailored blouse and gray slacks she chose looked terrific on her, but she wasn't aware of that. Then she straightened up the house. Tom was due home today, and Mary made a practice of having the house look extra-good when her husband got back from a trip. The phone rang. She walked over and picked it up.

"Mary," her husband's voice came through the receiver. "Honey, I hate to do this, but I have to extend my trip through the weekend."

"Oh, Tom," Mary said. She couldn't keep the disappointment out of her voice. She planned to make an all-out effort to revive their relationship this weekend. "Do you really have to?"

"Afraid so," he replied.

In the background, Mary thought she heard something, like a feminine giggle. "Tom...where...where are you?" she asked.

"Ah, I'm in one of my client's offices," her husband said quickly. "It's, ah, one of the secretary's birthdays, and the other girls are, um, teasing her."

"I'll bet!" Mary thought. All of a sudden fears about what Tom might really be doing on those trips rushed from the far corner of her mind, where she had banished them because they were too painful to consider.

"Look, Mary," Tom said. "I have to get going. I'll see you next week."

"When will you get home?" Mary asked.

"Probably Tuesday," he said.

"Tom...I...I love you," Mary said softly.

"Yeah, me, too," her husband said. Then he was gone.

Mary felt tears welling up in her eyes. She didn't understand what was happening to them. Their marriage seemed to be coming apart at the seams. Tom was gone all the time, and when he was home he ignored her. The result was that she was lonely. Ricky's presence helped, but he'd be going away to school next fall. What would she do then?

One of Mary's unwritten rules was, "If you need a lift, get your hair done." Pixie McGill, the girl who did Mary's hair, was a divorcee and had a bit of a loose reputation, but Mary liked her. Pixie always seemed to be so up and happy.

Pixie had planned to take the afternoon off, but when she got the call from Mary - who she considered one of her favorite customers and who sounded upset - she told Mary to come by at one.

Hairdressers, like barbers and bartenders, often act as confessors for their clients. Pixie, because she was such a good listener and never passed on what she heard, was one of the best. "I wonder what's bugging Mary?" Pixie mused as she worked on her current customer, who was babbling about her Aunt Alice, or Agatha, or whatever.

Mary, meanwhile, went back to her housework with new vigor. The brief phone chat with Pixie had improved her mood, and knowing she'd get to spend more time talking with her friend later gave her something to look forward to.

At one, Mary drove her big station wagon into the parking lot in front of Pixie's salon. She was surprised no other cars were there.

"You weren't planning to take the afternoon off, were you?" Mary asked when she got inside.

"Don't worry about it," Pixie said. "I had a feeling you needed someone to talk to, so here you are."

"Look, I don't want to spoil your day off," Mary said. She turned and began to leave.

Pixie grabbed her arm. "Take off your coat and get in the chair. We ought to get started," the hairdresser said.

She led Mary to the special sink used for shampooing customers, sat her down in the chair, and put a protective cover over her.

"Talk to me, Mary," Pixie said. She had her customer lay back and began to wet down her hair.

Mary felt herself relaxing as Pixie worked shampoo into her hair, filling it with luxuriant white foam. Her scalp tingled delightfully.

"Well," Mary said, "Things aren't going too well at home..." She was surprised at how easily all of her troubles came out once she started talking.

Finally Pixie finished rinsing the lather out of Mary's hair, had her sit up, and wrapped a towel around her customer's head.

"You know, if I was in that situation..." Pixie commented as they walked to another chair, where Pixie would cut Mary's hair and style it, "...if it was me, I'd probably find someone who would give me what I needed."

"You...you mean you...you'd take a...a lover?" Mary was startled. "I...I could never...ever do that."

"I'm not telling you to do it, or not to do it," Pixie said. "I'm just saying what I would do. I'd go out and find me a nice, horny young guy who could screw me silly."

Mary felt her cheeks get hot and knew she was blushing. "I've never...done...that, had sex...with...with anyone but Tom since we got married," she stammered.

"From my point of view," Pixie said as she clipped a little off the back of Mary's hair, "monogamy is highly over-rated. But that's me. Like I said, I'm telling you what I'd do. You have to do what you think is best for you."

Despite her misgivings, Mary did find the idea of an affair exciting. Still, she couldn't picture herself going to bed with anyone but Tom. She'd come a long way from the way she'd been in high school. She had a good reputation now, a good life, and she didn't want to do anything that would cause her to lose it. "I just couldn't do it," she thought at last. "I just couldn't. I have too much to lose."

Pixie was blow-drying her hair. Mary closed her eyes and enjoyed the warm blast of hot air and the comb sliding through her tresses.

"Hey, you know, if you don't want to have an affair, there is another choice," Pixie said. "I'd almost forgot about it." She put the finishing touches on Mary's hair.

"What's that?" Mary asked as she examined her new coiffure in the mirror. She had no idea what her friend could be talking about.

"You stay here," Pixie said. "I'll be right back." She disappeared through the doorway that led from the salon into her living quarters. In a few minutes, she returned, carrying a pinkish tube of some kind in her hand.

"What's that?" Mary asked.

Pixie held the device up for Mary to see. When she realized what Pixie was holding, she was stunned. It was a large, life-like artificial penis!

Pixie smiled when she saw her friend blush. "This might not be as good as a real one," she said, "but it's a helluva lot better than going horny."

"I...Oh God!...I'd have no idea where to find something like that, even if I wanted to," Mary stammered. She felt her face growing hot, and was terribly embarrassed, but she couldn't take her eyes off the device Pixie held. It looked so real!

"I got mine in a store over in Westboro," Pixie said, grinning. "It's just across from that big mall." She had an idea she'd piqued Mary's interest. "I told them it was a gag gift for a friend's bridal shower when I went to buy it."

Mary drove away from Pixie's shop, her mind spinning. "I could never take a lover," she thought. Then her mind went to the dildo. She wondered what it would feel like to use one. "It would probably feel better than my fingers," she said out loud. Without realizing she was doing it, she turned onto the road to Westboro.