Geraldine's stomach felt queasy as the captain's voice announced that their flight was on approach to Louis Armstrong International Airport. She leaned against her husband, her head almost on his shoulder, and had such a firm grip on his hand her knuckles were white.
Geraldine was not a good flyer, but it was not her fear of flying or the earlier turbulence that had butterflies in her stomach. The main reason for her anxiety was that they were travelling to New Orleans for an illicit liaison with a black man, and it was likely that the following night this man would be fucking her brains out.
Part of her could not believe she had agreed to go ahead with this adventure; no one who knew her would, in their wildest dreams, think Geraldine would entertain such an idea. But here she was, and part of her was incredibly excited about the prospect.
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Brett and Geraldine had been married for ten years. She had met Brett when she was twenty-three. She hadn't quite been a virgin, as she had had one unsatisfactory experience with a one-night stand, and it had put her off trying sex again until she met Brett.
They had no children, neither of them that worried about it. When she questioned Brett about having kids, he just replied that he was in no hurry and happy as they were. She had a high-powered job in a law firm and was not yet keen on giving her career up to have children.
Her name was Geraldine, and few would dare call her anything else. But when she and Brett started dating, he brought out a side of her that she never knew existed, and in their very active sex sessions, he always called her Gerrie. And so, as time passed, whenever Brett hinted at enacting a fantasy or attempting some new sex position, she became her Gerrie persona, allowing her to get properly in the mood.
This trip was definitely a Gerrie moment. How she came to be here was a long story.
About six months before, she had been watching TV on her own. Brett had not been interested in the show she was watching, and he had gone to his den to catch up on some work. When the show finished, she turned the TV off and lay back to take a moment to listen to how quiet and peaceful their house sounded at this late hour. She was startled to hear the faint sound of what sounded like a woman having an orgasm.
Curious, she walked to the lounge door, quietly opened it, and stuck her head into their hallway. Sure enough, there were sounds of sexual activity coming from Brett's den. She tiptoed down the hall and peeped into his den. She couldn't stop herself from gasping out loud as she saw that Brett had his eyes firmly tied on the computer screen, and by the movements in the blanket draped over his lap, she knew he was masturbating.
Brett reacted the instant he heard her quick intake of air. He jerked his hand out of his lap and clicked the screen. She was side-on to him and couldn't see what Brett had been watching. But the fact that the computer light disappeared from his face, she knew he was watching porn and had shut it down.
"Your watching porn!" she cried out.
"Don't be angry with me. I'm sorry," Brett yelped.
"I'm not angry with you," then with her mind racing, she continued, "Well, maybe I am. Why do you have to watch porn without me?"
Brett looked terribly guilty and spluttered out something quite incoherent.
"I couldn't hear that, speak up and tell me what you said," Geraldine snapped.
He looked at her, and she saw a look of resignation come over his face. "Geraldine doesn't watch porn and would be shocked at what happens in these videos."
Sadness hit Geraldine at his reply, and she suddenly was overcome with a sense of failure. He was right. More and more, she had been rejecting some of the things he had hinted at during their lovemaking. But if she was honest with herself, there had been many times when she had wanted him to be more forceful and push her to do the things he asked of her. In the deepest recesses of her mind were locked fantasies that included some of the acts he hinted at them doing.
Her reaction to what he hinted at was purely instinctual--she was raised in a very religious, narrow-minded home. Sex was seldom discussed, and if it did ever raise its ugly head, it was understood that good people rarely indulged in it.
His sad admission about her rejection of him jolted her to the realisation that acts she had enjoyed and been happy to try with him in the early years of her marriage didn't sit well with Geraldine, the high-flying lawyer.
Her mind raced, and she wondered if she dared to talk with Brett about some of her dirty fantasies. And also, tell him that her Gerrie persona might be more accepting of his desires if he pushed her a little. Lord only knew their sex life had become mundane in the last few years.
Brett was watching her. He could see her mind was working overtime, contemplating his admission. He plucked up the courage and threw in another question, "Would you have watched some porn if I asked you?"
"Probably not," she snapped back.
Then, realising she was doing it again, shutting him down when it was not what she actually wanted deep down. She replied. "Well, maybe I could look at something. Show me what you were watching then."
"It was not very good. If you watched something with me, I would like to get a more tasteful video."
"Show me that one anyway, and I'll watch another video when you get it."
Brett was astounded that she had agreed so quickly, and he quickly turned the monitor on again and opened the video before she changed her mind.