After Rascal was fed, watered, and exiled to the backyard, Jack prepared for his overnight with Diane. He packed a change of clothes, toiletries, and rose-scented massage oil. Diane had worked unusually hard today, and probably would appreciate a good massage, along with a very happy ending. He smiled to himself. One of the few things his ex-wife never complained about was his massage prowess. Well, she did complain about not getting them often enough.
Just because Jack couldn't have normal, penetrative sex, that didn't mean he couldn't make Diane feel satisfied. Maybe. Hopefully. His performance anxiety returned. Before he chickened out, Jack crossed the road to get to the other side. As he walked up her driveway, she came outside, pulling a suitcase behind her, and looking distraught.
"Diane? What's wrong?"
"I'm sorry, Jack. I have to go to my daughter's and stay with my grandchildren. Her father-in-law is in the hospital. They think he had a heart attack. He lives in Maine, so they'll be gone for a while."
Taking her suitcase, he said, "I'm so sorry to hear that. Call me when you can and let me know what's going on. Don't worry about anything here. I'll keep an eye on the place while you're away."
After placing the suitcase in the trunk and closing it, Jack turned and embraced Diane tenderly. "I'll miss you."
"I'll miss you, too." She hugged him tight, and said, "I've already made dinner. It's on the table-nothing special, just leftover lasagna. Would you please clean up after you eat?"
"Of course. Don't worry about anything here. Go. Take care of your family."
They kissed lovingly before she entered the car. As Diane backed out, she said, "Remember, you owe me an overnight!" then blew him a kiss and sped off.
He waved until the car was out of sight.
The lasagna dinner was delicious, although sad and lonely. Jack washed the dishes, dried them, and then searched the cupboards for their designated storage. The thought occurred to him he'd never been given a tour of her house. Since Diane wasn't there to be a guide, he might as well go on a self-guided tour. After all, she snooped at his house, turnabout is fair play.
The downstairs was clean and tidy. No television, but lots of plants he'd have to water if she was gone long. He stuck a finger in the soil of a spider plant. The dirt was moist. No need yet, but a good reason to text her later and ask about a watering schedule.
Diane was a reader. A paperback sat on the table beside a ragged recliner. The bare chested man and busty woman on the cover suggested it was a romance novel of some kind. The bookmark was in the first chapter. Kind of like their relationship.
"Well, Diane. I guess you'll have to lower your expectations with me."
Jack climbed the stairs to the stuffy second floor. It was a three bedroom house. The two guestrooms had double beds. One room looked girly - flowery, pink spread and lacey curtains. The second looked masculine with dark wood and a solid blue quilt. They were probably decorated for her visiting grandchildren. He moved past them to the master bedroom. This was the room he was most familiar with, at least through the window. Orchids were in bloom - white and purple. A care and feeding guide, stuck in the pot, listed the watering requirements: Three ice cubes once a week.
"When are you due?"
No answer. He'd have to ask their owner - another good reason to text Diane.
Paint samples were taped to the front wall, all different shades of green. "Were you going to ask me to help, Nature Girl?"
An air conditioner sat on the floor beneath the window facing the side yard. "It would be nice to have it running when I have my sleepover. Were you going to ask me to install it?"
Family photos adorned the dresser. One viscerally significant, one that made his stomach knot now that he knew their intimate history, was a portrait of her friends-with-benefits, Sharon and Lou. He took a deep breath and let his anxiety slowly out. Moving on, he thought about looking through her dresser drawers, but decided against it, not wanting to see lingerie before Diane modeled it. Turning away, Jack noticed the bedcovers were folded back, as if she'd prepared in advance for tonight. The bed was massive - a four poster California King, the head and foot boards a dark oak. Then he noticed the finish was worn off the nearest post, down to the bare wood, close to the mattress. Upon further inspection, the same ring of wear was on all four posts.
The first thing that popped into Jack's mind that would cause such a mark was, "Restraints?" Try as he might, he could not think of any other plausible explanation for such odd and uniform wear.
Shaking his head, he moved to the nightstand and opened the drawer, and unsurprisingly he found an array of adult toys - ten in all. Some looked battery powered, some solid, and some flexible. Some were short. Some were long and thick. Accompanying them was a large bottle of Liquid Silk lubricant.
"Well, she said she masturbated." He lifted out a particularly complicated unit with branching appendages. "I wonder if there's an instruction manual." He let out a heavy sigh. "How am I ever going to satisfy this woman?"
Jack looked back in the drawer, and underneath the toys he spotted one of the photo albums seen earlier in the kitchen, and thought, 'What if it's the explicit album? Do I really want to see Diane with other people?'
After a pause for thoughtful consideration, Jack decided to take a quick peek, and stop if it was too unsettling. He felt a weird mix of relief and disappointment when the album turned out to be the family oriented volume. Putting it back, he realized Diane must've placed the toys on top of the family album in preparation for tonight. 'She wouldn't leave these things where one of her grandchildren might discover them by accident.'
His face warmed with the thought of a night playing with Diane and her toys. The only things he planned on using were his hands and mouth, and thought 'How naïve am I?' Pulling out his cellphone, Jack took pictures of the playthings so he could do some online research later, and then closed the drawer.
As he looked around the room, he said, "So, Diane, where do you hide your toys from prying eyes? The closet, maybe? Let's see what's in there."
The walk-in closet was large and dark, flipping on the light revealed rows of hanging clothes and shelves with boxes. "Wow! I could hide in here and not be found for a week."
He turned to go, until the corner of a wooden box sticking out from under a row of long dresses caught his eye. So he knelt down for a closer look and discovered a foot locker. Jack pulled it out. The box was about three feet long, two feet wide, and one foot high. It was made of unstained plywood that had darkened naturally with age. The lid was held down with a hasp and a combination lock, but the lock was open.
Jack's heartbeat quickened. 'Had she left in such a hurry that she forgot to put away the toys and lock the box?'
He'd gone this far, curiosity and temptation had won out over good manners about twenty minutes ago. He removed the lock from the hasp and lifted the lid, hoping to explore the time capsule of Diane's sexual experience.
Inside was another photo album, which he picked up and set aside to dig deeper.
"I knew it!" he said, lifting a set of furry handcuffs with leather straps. But after the initial elation of guessing correct came a feeling of guilt for prying into someone's most guarded secrets. But the remorse didn't last long.
He rationalized it away, by thinking, 'Why would she keep this stuff around if she was ashamed of it? I'm just trying to get to know her better.'
So he kept rummaging, and pulled out a black cloth bag with the word 'Hulk' in green letters. "What have we here?" he said, opening the drawstrings, and pulling out its contents. The Hulk was appropriately named. The super-sized green phallus was connected to nylon bands. "Is this what they call a strap-on?" He looked into the back end, "And it's hollow." He suddenly pictured himself wearing it with his flaccid dick inside and the green monster inside Diane. Maybe there was a way to please her like a man, after all.
The only thing remaining in the foot locker was a zippered case the size of the photo album. Jack lifted it out and set it on his lap to unzip. It opened like a book to reveal individual pockets filled with compact discs. Handwriting on each one identified its content. The titles in themselves were innocuous, but because they were in the foot locker, Jack had a good idea what kind of graphic biopics they contained. Titles like 'Four', 'Shlou', 'Dilar' were obviously abbreviated names of the recorded participants - 'Four', for both couples, 'Shlou', for Sharon and her husband Lou, 'Dilar', for Diane and her husband Larry. Then, on the second page, the initials became a jumbled mixture of letters that made no sense without a code key. Jack looked inside the box, but no such key existed. So he scrutinized the letters and tried to decipher their meaning. The ones that attracted all of his attention were discs with the letter "D" in the title. Diane, the only participant he felt compelled to watch. In the pretext of better understanding Diane, Jack decided to watch one of these before he went home.
"Okay, let's see. Which one?" Jack looked over all the obscure titles and settled on 'Difant', guessing it meant 'Diane's fantasy'. He removed it from the sleeve and went out into the bedroom. There was a small, flat screen TV in the corner with a built in DVD player. He turned in on, slip in the disc, and the video began to play. Jack sat down on the bedside to watch.
A time stamp appeared: May 30, 2008. Larry's face filled the screen. "Hi, Honey. I have hidden the camera to record everything. Remember when you said you'd fulfill my fantasy about taking advantage of you while you're restrained? Well I've arranged for it to happen, with a twist. So let the fun begin!"
Jack shook his head. "Restrained and taken? I just don't get it."
Larry moved away, revealing the camera focused on their bed. It was the same four-poster that sat in her room today. The screen was quiet for a time, and then Larry led a towel clad Diane into camera view, saying, "Today is all about you, Sweetie. I going to tie you down so that you can't do anything but enjoy the moment."
Diane resisted, saying, "That's sweet, Honey, but I have a lot to do today."
"Too bad! I have time now. Stop arguing. You agreed to this. It'll be fun. I promise."
"Prick." Jack watched with mixed emotions, as Larry removed Diane's towel, began kiss her neck, and fondling her breasts. She stood unresisting and compliant to her husband's affection. Jealousy welled up in Jack's chest. But why? Larry was dead. 'Diane wants ME now,' he thought, but felt the reoccurring twinge of uncertainty.
Diane's towel fell to the floor, as Larry backed her up to the mattress and forcefully pushed her down. He rolled her over and spanked her once, leaving a hand print. "You do what I tell you, Bitch!"
"Whoa!" Jack had heard about roleplaying, but this was too extreme for his tastes, bordering on abuse.
Larry put his hand to his ear, and yelled, "What? I didn't hear you!"
Diane's tremulous voice became clear. "Yes, sir!"
"Now get in the middle and lay on your back, Woman!"
She scrambled up and got into position.
"Spread your arms and legs."
Silently, Diane obeyed and lay spread-eagle, as Larry fastened restraints to her arms and legs.
He then put a blindfold over Diane's eyes.
