I was halfway through writing this when I realized it was a bit different from my usual depraved musings. Somehow it turned into a contemplation on power and dominance and how those things affect relationships even while the people in those roles may be completely unaware of them. Tom and Alice are based on a real couple. They had a god awful marriage but went on to have an enviable relationship after their divorce. I always thought sorting out their power dynamics had something to do with that. Jake was a real person, completely unexceptional but someone who seemed to breeze through life calling the shots as he saw fit. Of course you don't know him but I'm sure you probably know someone like him.
Also, if you've read any of my other stories, you know that for me there's no such thing as gay sex or straight sex. Just plain, old, dirty, filthy fun sex. Make of that what you will.
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I met Beth when she was still in college. Back in those days she was disposed to dressing like the movie version of a hooker. Big floppy sun hat and jeans cut so short that most of her ass was well exposed. Tube tops and buffalos sandals. Long blonde hair and a deep tan. Think Jody Foster in Taxi Driver but much, much hotter. For all that shameless display she claimed to have no self awareness of how she came across. Oh of course she'd complain about the cat calls and harassment she'd get on the street but never seemed to connect the way she dressed with all the unwanted attention. Yeah, I know. Any random woman can dress like a nun and still get hassled but honestly, to see her walk down the street... Hollywood gorgeous with her tits and ass hanging out was pretty much an instant hard on for any red blooded guy.
By the time she was ready to graduate, she seemed to pull back from that. She was still hot but didn't dress nearly as provocatively. As her boyfriend I had mixed feelings about it. I wasn't crazy about all the attention she was getting but some small part of my reptile brain must have secretly enjoyed having a partner that looked like a whore and inspired such gut level responses from everyone.
Years later, after she was a mom and card carrying PTA member, I had to ask her why... what was going through her mind back then? She was gorgeous enough in just a t-shirt and jeans. Why did she feel the need to dress like a centerfold?
At first she denied everything but I'd taken a lot of photos of her back then... she was a living, breathing pinup how could I not? Confronted with all the evidence she blushed a little and admitted that OK, early on it was how she learned to get attention. Once she got used to the power it gave her it was hard to pull back. For my own part I had to admit that I missed having her on display.
"If you ever want to go on vacation somewhere and put it all out there again, I'd be fine with it. You were REALLY hot!"
She smacked me on the head.
"I'm a mom!"
And for a long time that was pretty much where it stayed. Sometime around the 20 year mark of being married, we had all the classic signs of a dead bedroom. We didn't fool around much and when we did, it was over quick... just one more thing to do between bills and diapers and dishes. I had a space carved out for myself in the basement and with Internet porn becoming more mainstream, it was probably the one thing that kept me sane.
Say what you will about porn, there's so much of it out there that if you can imagine it, you can probably find it. Over time, what you gravitate to starts to give you a clear definition of your sexual identity in ways that were never possible before. You watch something. It makes your dick hard in some unique and special way. Guess what, you've just learned something about yourself.
September
One weekend, our friend Tom was supposed to stay at our place. He and his wife Alice had been our next door neighbors for years until they split and moved on to different cities. At her best Alice was cute, petit, just a tad chubby, bordering on adorable. She never worked a day in her life but was always quick to get on Tom's case about how they didn't stack up to the Joneses. Their house was too small, car too old, vacations not exotic enough. After years of this he'd had about all he could take. He was back in town to sell the house and just needed a place to crash for a few days. At this point both of our own kids were in college and for the first time in a very long while, we had the place to ourselves.
Tom knew how to make himself welcome. He brought a bottle of champagne (there was his divorce and the sale of his house to celebrate) as well as some moderately potent weed. Neither Beth or I had smoked in a long time... just too many obligations and restrictive social circumstances for us to ever relax enough. Tom and I had been buds since college. Seeing him unattached and back in touch with the version of himself I knew before he was married was energizing. He looked like some long suffering soul whose burden had finally been lifted.
Beth liked him and was happy to get a chance to see him again. Alice meanwhile, had always been a stone, cold bitch. There was always a shitload of drama whenever she was around and her domestic antics became a regular topic of conversation for us. It hurt to watch how much she'd been able to taunt and fuck with his head in any given week. We all tried our best to be nice to her and ease some of the obvious tension in their marriage but I can't say that either of us were sad to see her finally gone.
I stuck the champagne in the freezer to chill as Tom rolled a few joints. He always had this quality of being precise in everything he did. His process of grinding up the marijuana, spreading it out on the table, folding the ez-wider paper and finally, rolling geometrically perfect looking joints was impressive.
I dimmed the lights and put some old R&B on the turntable. Beth raised an eyebrow... Half seriously, she said "You guys think you're back in your dorm?" and put me to work making a salad.
Tom lit up a joint and passed it to Beth. She surprised me by taking a break from what she was doing and actually taking a few hits. She was a light weight and I idly wondered where this might be going.
"What's on the menu?" Tom asked, curious about the odd set of ingredients spread out on the counter.
"Spaghetti. And bacon and eggs. Or as the Italians call it, Spaghetti Carbonara."
Just slightly horrified, "OK, sure, why not..." intercepting the joint from Beth and passing it on to me.
There were streams of marijuana smoke mixing with the aromas coming from the kitchen. The combination of scents of were enough to get me high and slightly ravenous.
Getting ready to drain the pasta, Beth said "We're going to eat out on the deck if that's OK?"
It was late September. The worst of the dog days were over and even the bugs had lately been behaving themselves.
I said "I'll crack open the champagne, we can have a dip in the pool before dinner."
This is the usually the cheesy part where Tom is supposed to say something like "Oh, but I didn't bring my bathing suit..." wink, wink, wink but the truth is we'd known each other a long time. Spent our share of time in steam rooms and saunas and skinny dipping on camping trips. Even a few mutual hand jobs when our blood alcohol levels had been high enough.
