Ch. 3, Worse Than Death

"She would have collapsed. Yes, I held her. I won't apologize, Marge. I've got enough things I'm sorry about. Just not that."

"Well, I'm sorry I made such a scene." And here Marge smiled, "Although it felt awfully good at the time."

"You had a right."

"I know. But I also don't know. Pastor Neuman has come by a couple of times. He's into the whole forgiveness thing. I wish he were more of the holier-than-thou type."

"He won't see us. Not in that church."

"Myra still goes."

"Myra is stubborn."

"He says all the right things, and I know what the Lord would want, but I can't do that. Forgive. George or Laura. Not now. Maybe not ever."

"I understand. Oh Jesus, do I understand."

*****

*****

They were lying in bed, John and Laura, naked, and they were caressing each other's bodies. John's penis curved up and over him, and Laura's hand went from his balls up to the head and back down. John began with Laura's breasts, fondling them, then trailing down to her mound, to her hood, her clitoris, her vagina. Both of them were breathing shallowly.

This was bad, a massive violation of the therapist's instructions about their assignment--to reintroduce contact into their lives. If they were going to be together for, well, some indeterminate period, it would be a prison if they didn't work toward comforting each other.

But the real reasons for the assignment? George's suicide and the visitation and Marge. Laura couldn't stand still during that first post-George therapy session. She couldn't sit. She couldn't hold a coherent conversation with the therapist. She fidgeted and turned this way and that, started to leave the room and came back. She was, she kept thinking, the embodiment of feminine evil to everyone who knew her. Or thought they knew me. Am I really a Jezebel? It was the first time either of them had seen the therapist perturbed, and John thought she had set up the exercises to help keep Laura from falling apart completely, the intimacy exercises plus an antidepressant.

Sure. More help for her. Not for me.

Laura wouldn't leave the house unless she absolutely had to. At the office she tried to concentrate on her work, with limited success, and she'd become terrified just seeing people. John was her refuge even when he wanted to leave her, or better yet hit her. But he followed the assignments dutifully whereas Laura did them enthusiastically.

The therapist didn't tell them to take their clothes off or caress each other, just to lie next to each other several minutes every evening, no matter how unhappy they were. And she explicitly forbad sex, even if--or when--they got turned on. This was for comfort, not pleasure.

In addition, they were to hug five times during the day. Every day. Just come up to the other one and do it. Sometimes one of them surprised the other. It was always Laura. It would be during a panic attack. She'd rush to John and hold him until it passed.

Fuck it! Why not focus on the injured party for a change? She fucked him and sucked him. Doesn't that count for anything? Couldn't he let Laura stay in the house without all these cheap displays of affection? Crap! What if he just left? What if he said "shove it" and walked away, leaving her behind? Fucking whore! He never said things like that out loud anymore--almost never--but he thought them a lot. He also seldom initiated hugs though he didn't try to shrug them off. Doctor's orders. Once when the clock was winding down, he'd hugged Laura to get it over with.

Another thing they had to do was arrange a date night every week. It could be anything, but the two of them had to go out alone together and be out until at least ten. These terrified Laura. It wasn't a big town and she wanted to avoid everyone they knew. Myra, though, was happy to keep the kids. She thought she saw a glimmer of hope for them as a couple. Maybe. Just maybe.

It sounded sappy and fake but it was doing something, maybe even for John. Or maybe that was just from the passage of time. Well, again. Doctor's orders.

The nakedness came on its own, once they had been in bed awhile. John didn't want to do it, have contact in bed. Especially not that. But here they were together, and how long had it been since either'd had sex? They weren't a monk and a nun, you know. Laura began it. She started touching John and the feeling went all the way to the end of his penis. He touched her back, and they wanted it. Just like that, just like the time before. God damn they wanted it! Well, the therapist hadn't said they couldn't get naked. They kissed and fondled and unbuttoned, and after playing with each other's bodies, John pushed Laura down and shoved his cock into her vagina and they did it, and this time it worked for them, for both of them.

They lay there panting. There was the whole of Laura under John, and he kissed her and finally asked, "Do you think we're in trouble?" They both laughed. It wasn't until a few minutes of afterglow that he remembered his anger, and the cause, and knew he shouldn't be feeling so good toward her. He rolled off her and away.

*****

Then it got serious.

"John, I want to ask you something, and I know it's going to upset you." They were supposed to practice being open and honest, especially about the painful things.

"Okay. I'll control myself. Don't worry." She should have worried. If she did, it didn't help.

"I want to give you oral sex. All the way."

Great! he thought, The George Mathis Special! "Why?"

"Because I do it now, and I know you would love it. You should get to experience it too."

"Experience it?"

"Yes. You should get to know what it's like. I know you'd love it, and I could make you happy."

"Um, Laura." He smiled, but not what you'd call a 'happy' smile. He almost smirked. "You know ... or I guess you don't. I've had blow jobs."

She jerked and looked at him with huge eyes. "When?" As though she thought he'd been doing it throughout their marriage.

"Before we were dating. I wasn't a hermit, you know." Definitely smirking.

"I don't understand. With who?"

"That's 'whom.' And no names. But ... let's see ... a girlfriend, some dates, a few casual pickups." That includes your freshman roommate, Brenda. Then there was that friend of yours who visited from Michigan State, Gale Something. And so forth. "Girls liked me, and I liked them, and there were a lot of them around. And young women who are ... ah ... hunting as it were, seem more willing to give head than you might expect."

"All the way?"

"The full Monty. Complete BJs"

Laura didn't know what to say next. How was this in her husband's sexual history? And how empty had theirs together been? She got up and walked in a circle before she could bring herself to ask the next question. "How many?" She actually asked that? Yes. She did.

"For goodness' sake! I didn't keep count."

"That many?"

He laughed. "Well, it wasn't in the hundreds. Let's just say I was reasonably experienced." Let's just say it was more than ten. I'm sure George got far more from you alone.

"Can I do it to you?"

"No." It was here that everything turned from afterglow to the depths of space, and her hope--and plan--crashed and burned, and she got a fuller understanding of her husband and of the gulf between them. "I don't want your mouth touching my cock."

No. No! He wanted it. He has to want it!

"I don't understand. You had choices! Girls who would do you. You could have had a different wife who did it. Why is it a problem if I offer?"

He got off the bed and dressed, underwear, sweatpants, t-shirt, while Laura waited for an explanation. He kept his back toward her the whole time. She pulled the sheet up around herself. It must have been nearly a minute of silence before he turned back toward her.

"You know, I really loved fellatio. I've missed it. I've fantasized about it over the years. But sex isn't everything. It's just an important thing we promise to be exclusive about. And oral sex? It sure isn't everything. And frankly I didn't fall for any of those women." I'll kill you with honesty, you bitch! "I fell for Laura Helmholtz. Remember her? Originally from Muskegon Michigan? I fell for you."

"But ..."

"No! I fell for you and pursued you and you chose me. Laura Helmholtz of Muskegon Michigan, my soul mate, my life partner, the lo..."

He couldn't go on, not past that part, because it caught up to him. Yes, it was trite. He knew that, but he'd known it was true. Had been true. He closed his eyes and pressed his lips together and turned his head away. He made fists and held his arms tightly down his sides. The seconds ticked by and Laura wondered if he was going to speak at all. Finally, John lifted his head, wiped his eyes, stared at her like you would to challenge a hated rival, and finished.

"The love of my life." He had to stop again. "That's what she was, or so I thought. Well, all relationships have trade-offs and compromises. One of mine was that if I wanted Laura Helmholtz to be my life partner, I would give up oral sex." He blew his breath out between his lips. "It was an easy decision. And I was content!"

John went into the bathroom and slammed the door. Laura dressed for bed and sat on the edge while she waited for him. She didn't understand him. When he came back out, she stood up, facing him, and asked:

"Couldn't we start now?"

"After George? No."

"But I'd like to do it to you now."

"You liked to do it to George. Not me."

"But I didn't do it at all before. What if ... what if I'd learned to do it before we'd ever started dating, and I'd do oral on you from the beginning? Would that have been a problem?"

"You don't understand, or I'm not making myself clear. Look. The problem isn't the blowjobs, not that specific thing. Forget about them. They don't matter. The problem is you!" He took both her hands and led her back to the bed and had her sit back down.

"I'll try again. When it came to fellatio, I asked and your answer was a hard 'no.'" He raised a hand as though he were a school crossing guard with one of those signs, controlling after-school traffic. "It was like a big, red 'stop' sign. Stop! Go no further! Don't cross this line! You pushed it right into my face. So, it was out, and I accepted it." Now Laura could see it coming. "But then along came George, and there was suddenly a bright, green, traffic light and a flashing sign that said, 'Come right on in! This way to the open mouth! No waiting!'"

"No! I just started. I wouldn't hold it back from you."

"Even that's not true! You were sucking him happily for, what, six months? But never once in those six months did you ever say, 'Oh John, I'd like to take oral foreplay a little further' or whatever. Never. Never! It was only for George."

By now Laura was crying. She knew he was right, but she couldn't bring herself to retreat. "But I'll do it now. Whenever you want! Please let me!"

"Not a chance. Crap! You know how I see it? You've got this checklist that's labeled something like 'Stuff I did only with George and should do with John to fix things.'"

"No!"

"One item is 'give John a blowjob so he won't feel left out anymore.' When you complete that, it's 'check'!" He moved his hand as though making a check mark in the air.

"No!"

"There are other things. 'Let John do my ass so he won't feel left out anymore.' And it's 'check' again."

"Stop!" She was sobbing now.

"Go down the list, check, check, and check, as though that will make everything better. Well, it won't! It won't undo anything! And I won't take part in that whore's game where you work to get a rave review from your customer."

Laura stopped trying to hide her crying or even wipe her face. She turned away. She wouldn't look at John. She couldn't bring herself to do that. And there wasn't any answer. She stopped fighting because now she understood him and knew what he knew and knew that he knew her.