Vivica stared at the ceiling as Keith rolled off her and she regretted ever listening to her mother. Vivica married the nerd and her mother was elated. Keith was a year younger than Vivica but he graduated high school a year earlier. He was super smart, and a nice enough guy, and she was sure she loved him, at least a little, but there was no passion. They just had sex and, as usual, he just had a mind blowing experience that he would rave about for the next several hours, and she just felt like taking a shower.
"That was amazing," he said between gasps as his bird like chest heaved up and down.
"Mmhmm," she said and tried to sound sated.
"Was it good for you? Am I getting better?" he asked and she wanted to throat punch him.
"Better every day," she replied and she hated herself for it. She never complained to him about his sexual performance, or lack thereof, but he intuited it on his own. To add insult to the injury of bad sex, he needed constant affirmation. Not that he was a great lover, he did not have the audacity to for that, but that he was improving. He wanted to please her in bed, and that was sweet, but they were at the bottom of a very tall mountain and she, after three years of marriage, no longer felt he had what it took to make the ascent.
Today was Sunday and he would want to go again before bed. He had another hundred hour week coming up and he would be too tired to have sex. All sex happened on Sundays in this house and he made up for lost time by having as much of it as he could muster. He was repeatedly apologetic about this and it was cringey. Sex with Keith was not anything she missed during his long weeks. She missed sex even when she was having sex with him.
Was he getting better? Keith was not getting better. He was an excellent lawyer. His colleagues all said he had a brilliant legal mind. When he graduated law school at twenty-two he was recruited by all the big firms and he was told he, at twenty-two, was on the fast track for partner. His skills in bed were nothing like the rest of his life.
"Hey Baby Girl," her mother started saying when she was ittybitty, and kept saying all her life until her wedding day. "You find yourself a nerdy boy and you marry him. The cute fellas wind up working for the ugly ones." She said it, mainly as a barb toward her dad, but she believed it. Her mother regretted her choice in husbands and was not shy about letting the world know. Her world view was so narrow that, based on her experience, all happy women in the world lived lavish lifestyles married to sexually undesirable husbands.
Vivica's father was a good man, kind, loving, but not wealthy. Her mother thought that was unforgivable and Vivica grew up hating how her mother treated her father. He winked and smirked at Vivica when his wife was berating him over one bill or another, or the multitude of things they could not afford. She compared him to his boss, Alex, and the better life he provided his wife, Rita, her best friend since high school.
Vivica would wink back at her dad and smile. Her mother was crazy, and her father was a wonderful man, and the fact that her mother was crazy was like their little inside joke. She was not clinically crazy, just absurd in her ability to be negative about every possible situation. Her father never yelled back at her, or said a cross word about the horrible things she said. He would apologize and she would drag him back into their bedroom. Vivica was in her teens by the time she figured out what they were doing in their bedroom. Her mother came out of that bedroom in a much better mood but it only lasted a few days.
"Your mother, when she was your age, she had notions about how her life was going to be," Her father said to her gently one day. "This ain't it Sugar Plum," he said and waved his hands around in an all encompassing gesture. He had these conversations with Vivica when her mother was out of ear shot in order to not get her cranked up again. Vivica and her dad would chuckle about it. "Don't ever think that's your fault. It's me she is disappointed in, never you Viv."
Her father was a catch when he was in high school and her mother caught him. He was big, strong, handsome, and the college recruiters called his right arm a missile launcher. Her mother caught his eye their senior year and she made him buy her a ring before they even graduated. She quit taking birth control on her wedding night, and nine months later Vivica came along.
He went to play football for LSU and her mom went to be his biggest fan. Everything was going great until he was sacked late in the fourth quarter of a championship game and had to be taken off the field on a stretcher. The doctors said he could never play football again and Wendy Lou Baker's dreams of being an NFL millionaire's wife nosedived. When her father was released from the hospital he brought his new family back to their hometown and took a job as a mechanic. Her mother went back on birth control.
While she did not grow up in lavish surroundings, her father made sure they had all they needed. She never went hungry, the utilities never went out because a bill couldn't be paid, and their home was small, but solid, and nothing to be ashamed of. Vivica recognized the difference between Aunt Rita's place and theirs, but didn't really care. Aunt Rita's place was nice to visit but she wouldn't want to live there.
Vivica was twenty-three and never graduated college. Instead of finishing her degree, Keith begged her to marry him and move with him to the fancy college where he went to law school. She was not accepted as a student there and so her degree was put on hold. That was fine. She never really figured out what she wanted to be when she grew up anyway.
Now he was making enough money that he didn't see a need for her to finish her degree. She was lacking motivation too, and more, she was seeing in herself many of the signs of depression. Her mother was still elated for her. Vivica looked over at her husband, still gasping for breath in the king sized bed next to her, and tried to come up with a single thing to be elated about.
The house was beautiful, the pool in the back yard was excellent, and the view of the Gulf of Mexico, and the sunsets, were breathtaking. All of it was even nicer than Aunt Rita's. It was all a lot of fun for the first month or two. Decorating it, picking out the furniture, and making everything just right was fun and kept her busy. That was all done now and Vivica spent her days laying by the pool and exercising in their home gym. If nobody ever said that money did not buy happiness, she would say it now. Her mother was an idiot.
"You need some good dick," Jessica said to her on the phone later that day.
"Shut up."
"Tell me about your husband's dick."
"Shut up." Vivica felt a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Jessica was good for that.
"Okay, I'll tell you about my boyfriend's dick then."
"Shut up."
"It's about eight inches long, fat, and veiny. It's one of those that is fat at the top, and fatter in the middle, but gets a little narrower at the base so when he plugs it all the way in me it seats kind of like a butt plug. Know what I mean?"
"No, please shut up."
"No listen, it puts your pussy through a roller coaster of emotions. The head on it is the size of a door knob so when it punches through, you feel it all the way until it slams into your lungs. Internal organs get rearranged inside me to accommodate it, but my pussy kind of clamps shut around that narrow base and holds onto it. Then he drags it out and it feels like it creates a vacuum. My pussy grasps at it all the way out, then he slams it back in and forget about breathing right. His dick makes my pussy bark and snarl."
"Jessica, really, shut up. You are over-sharing," Viv said after they were done laughing.
"Fuck Viv, I just want you to know that better exists. Better is out there for you. You just need to go out and get it."
"I'm married. I'm faithful. I'm content."
"Content? Every little girl's dream to grow up and live contently ever after. There is good dick to be had girl, you just have to reach out and grab it."
"Shut up. I love my husband. I have one job: to be a good wife to my husband."
"You are old fashioned. You are a lawyer's wife. He works a hundred hours a week. You sit in that fucking palace and self-medicate on wine, soap operas, and regret. Do you jill-off? Tell me you masturbate."
"You aren't going to shut up, are you?"
"How long have you been married?"
"Three years."
"It's been three years since you got off?"
"No, Jessica, stop it already. I am sorry I mentioned it to you."
"Keith is kind of a girly-man. I bet he has felt a few wedgies, and been stuffed in his locker a few times, in his life."
