Chapter 1: Making it with Becca
I used to spend a lot of time working out of town. Some people said I should have just moved, and maybe they were right. All of that time away from home, while not a root cause, ended up contributing to the inevitability of my divorce.
Fortunately, I got to know people in most of the places where I worked out of town, and so instead of having to resort to barhopping for any kind of after-hours companionship, I occasionally enjoyed dinner in the company of friends. As my marriage fell apart, these people became increasingly important to me. I found myself on the verge of having to completely start over and rebuild my life.
I had known Carl for nearly four years when I started working in Fort Worth all the time. He and I had served in the Army together for two years and had remained in contact after getting out and going our separate ways. He and his wife Becca lived in a suburb just north of the city and welcomed me into their home with open arms.
When Leigh filed for divorce, the lawyers drew their lines in the sand, and soon it was simply a matter of waiting for the time required by law to pass. Carl and Becca insisted I move in with them, at least until I was through the storm and things had settled down. They made me feel like there were no truer words than, "my house is your house."
Evenings at the house quickly became an event unto themselves. I was well acquainted with the concept of people wanting to be comfortable in their own homes, but was actually a little surprised when Carl started lounging around in his boxers and Becca began relaxing in a nightgown or other forms of casual lingerie, often without a robe. It was distracting, to say the least, seeing Becca walking around clad in a negligee, often with her nipples poking through. More than once, I saw Carl either groping her breast or with a hand between her legs pleasuring her. The only thing that topped that was listening to the two of them having sex, which seemed to be at least every other night.
I don't even remember now how the subject came up, but Carl noted one evening that I was feeling the negative effects of the stress on my life and told me he knew just what I needed.
"You need to get laid," he said.
"Really? You think that would help things?" I asked. The sarcasm dripped from my voice. "Any suggestions on where I might find the source of such a pleasurable release?"
"Mike, all I'm saying is I just think it would do you good to find a woman and knock one out... maybe get a blowjob," he said, taking a sip from his beer.
"Well, given that I'm not much on bar-hopping, I think I'll just bide my time until I get a place of my own," I said, trying to dismiss the topic.
"Carl, just leave it alone. Mike will be fine," Becca said as she settled onto the sofa wearing a short nightgown that threatened to crawl up her hips. She was wearing a robe this time, but it was open and her nipples were straining against the fabric.
Carl looked over at his wife, then looked at me. "Why don't you sleep with Becca?"
Inspite of the fact that we were watching a movie, you could have heard a pin drop... even on the carpet. I just sat there, clueless on how to respond... Carl took another sip of his beer while his wife stared at him, stunned.
"Are you out of your mind? You want me to sleep with him?" she asked her husband. Her eyes cut over to me, then back to Carl. I decided someone was about to get hurt, and I wasn't about to take one for the team. I got up to go to my room... this had grave potential to get ugly.
"No, it was a legitimate suggestion," Carl said. "Where are you going?" he asked me as I attempted to back my way out of the kill-zone.
"It just seemed like this might be something the two of you might want some privacy to discuss," I said as I continued my exit.
"Sit down," he said, waving me back to the chair I'd been sitting in. He turned to look at his wife, "All I'm saying is, you think he's a good looking guy, he needs to get laid... seems like an even match."
"Don't you think I might like for us to discuss it before you mention it out loud? If it was going to be a subject for discussion at all?" she asked.
"Becca, quit overreacting. You don't do anything to help matters by walking around dressed like that, either... you walk around half naked, refusing to cover yourself up, flirting with the guy... I figure the least you can do is close the deal." I'm not sure how Carl had arrived at this conclusion, and his wife wasn't sure, either.
She shook her head, staring at her husband, then looking at me. "Flirting with him? How do I flirt with you?" she asked me.
"I am not part of this discussion," I said, trying to be as invisible as possible. "You sure you wouldn't rather have this discussion without me?"
"You're fine," Carl said. He looked at his wife. "I didn't suggest it to piss you off. I just think it's a solution to a problem that could be enjoyed by both of you. I'm out of it. The two of you want to sleep together, fine. You two work it out."
Becca had folded her arms across her chest in a combination of disgruntlement and self-consciousness. When she had last shifted position on the sofa, her nightgown had risen on her hips, and I could see just past her leg underneath the cloth to a hint of pubic hair. I would be willing to swear she could feel my eyes on her skin, because she looked straight at me as she pulled her nightgown down to cover herself. I had been caught stealing a glance.
