An Interlude in Nola - 750 Words

MS Word assures me that there are

exactly 750 words

below this paragraph. I don't do RAAC, either in my personal life, or in my stories. I do BTB if someone has pissed me off, harmed someone I care about, or harmed innocents. The severity of the burn depends on the severity of the offence.

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"Shut the fuck up Willy boy. It bemuses me that amongst the begging, tears, professions of love, and promises to change, you haven't apologized to Darcy for your behavior in the club, for locking her out, or for asking her whether she fucked me. So much for love."

"Fine, if you want the stupid whore, she's yours." We smiled.

"Baby, did I do more than buy dinners and drinks for you and the loser?" She pretended to think.

"Yup. You paid for my fun at the Old Mint, Jazz Museum, Cafe du Monde, the Gumbo Shop, the Carousel Bar, Pat O'Brien's, and Wade's club. You made me a G&T last night at your place, and bought me breakfast at Mama's. If I'm a whore, I guess I'm not a very good one, and I'll probably starve to death." She cracked a big smile. "Wow honey, I just remembered that stupid-old-me makes a lot more with my brain and personality than my not-very-dearly-beloved little Willy does, so I suppose I'll survive without being a whore." We cracked up laughing.

She appeared to be thinking again.

"Should I tell Willy more about our relationship honey? The uncertainty is eating at him, but knowing might punish him even more for being a jerk."

I spoke quietly.

"Grab his phone baby, make sure it's not recording, and switch it off."

She smiled, snagged his phone, switched it off, and nodded. I scratched my chin, as if in thought. He started to protest.

"Zip your lip Willy. Should you tell him sweetie? Beats me. Some claim that ignorance is bliss, but I'm not sure in Willy's case. More of his inadequacies would be exposed, but perhaps that excites him. Perhaps he enjoys being humiliated. Perhaps thinking about you having sex with another man excites him. That would be a reward rather than a punishment.

"Let's approach this like a decision tree. Either we had sex or we didn't. Either the thought of us having sex excites him, or it doesn't. There are four nodes. The sex/excites node and the no-sex/not-excite nodes could potentially make him happy. The sex/not-excite node is the most punishment, and no-sex/excite node is medium punishment. First, I have questions for him.

"Do you know what a Willy-nilly is little Willy?"

He managed to eke out "No. Don't call me Willy." among his sobs.

"I heard you the first time Willy, but Willy suits your weak personality. Do you know what bozone is?" He looked perplexed.

"No."

How about ignoranus?" He looked wary.

"No."

"You don't know much do you little Willy? Bozone is the substance surrounding stupid people that stops good ideas from penetrating. An ignoranus is someone who is both stupid and an asshole. You're an ignoranus and the bozone layer around you is very dense." Darcy was shaking with laughter.

"You are definitely a Willy-nilly little Willy, a pathetic, incompetent male who is unable to satisfy his woman. Do you really want to know whether Darcy fucked me?"

"Yes, the uncertainty is killing me."

"OK, it's on you. Darcy will tell you which node you're on, but I have some questions for her first. Did Willy satisfy you intellectually baby?"

"Nope. You've seen him in action; he's boring."

"Did Willy satisfy you emotionally?"

"Nope. I've been indifferent to him for most of our marriage."

"Did Willy satisfy you physically?"

"No way in hell. Pathetic, weak, inhibited, uninspired, unimaginative, and boring come to mind. Sex was minimal foreplay and no oral sex. It was sporadic missionary, with an occasional doggie. He couldn't find my G-spot. My fingers were better than his useless little-Willy

He was slumped down, looking depressed, and bawling his eyes out.

"You want to know if I fucked Arthur. The answer is no."

He suddenly brightened up and switched off the tears. He thought he was on the happy, no-sex/not-excite node, but I knew what was coming.

"After you locked me out last night, we went to Arthur's. We enjoyed music, cocktails, conversation, then undressed each other and showered together. We washed and dried every inch of each other's bodies, then made love for over two hours. We didn't fuck or have sex, we made love. His fingers, mouth, tongue, and cock are magical. This morning was a delightful repeat."

His brief moment of relief was over, and he was back to crying and sobbing. He was on the sex/not-excite node, consistent with his anger and tears. He'd earned it. We left, smiling, and kept each other.