The Long Fall Ch. 01

"Now do me all the way." And she did. Not right at that moment. For someone who'd said they had to hurry she was remarkably patient. She was all tranquil except for her breathing, and she stayed like that a few moments, but once her breathing settled down she sat up. She raised her hand to Bill's face again, and gave him that look again, as intimate as anything I've ever seen from a woman, then gave him another sweet kiss on his lips before going back down. She just disappeared, as though submerging in a pool.

This began the final stage, with Bill grunting and twitching, not stopping this time, moving his shoulders and staring down at this woman who used to be my wife, who was working him while her husband, and something else, died in the kitchen. It was about then that I realize they weren't going to finish by screwing. I'm so slow. It wasn't like the other Ruth and me. It was dirtier and more charged. It was hotter. It was crackling.

Bill grunted, "Yeah. Yeah. Yeah," and he got breathless just like Ruth did, and when his breath exploded from him it was like a whale sounding, like a whole pod of whales sounding, one after the other.

*****

I'm sure Ruth has done other men. We weren't innocents when we met. Neither of us ever asked – or told – what we had done with other people. I've never been jealous of them, or even very curious. Why should I be? After all, she chose me. I knew after our second date that she was the one, a fact I kept secret for three whole months because it freaked me and I didn't want to scare her away, and when I proposed I found she'd been waiting for me to get around to it.

I've told you how we were. Ruth and John, the entity, the team, not just the beast with two backs. She was my best friend, so I thought. How could I have been that wrong? How good an actress is she? And she bore my children, Kaetlyn and Will, either of whom could have toddled into the den at any minute, yawning and rubbing her eyes, rubbing his eyes, staring with a child's simple amazement at the sight on the couch. What would they think? Neither could understand it, not at their ages. I can't understand it at mine. That's not true. I understand it. I just don't know how it happened, or what to do about it.

So Ruth rose for the last time, about done with her tasteless little cuckolding. I wish I could have become aroused from watching it, fully erect and ready to fuck, the way it is in all those tasteless little stories about tasteless little cuckoldings. Well it was over. She worked her lips a little and held her right hand up in what might almost be a Vulcan sign of greeting, her fingers splayed open over her mouth in a way that let her push her index and long fingers over a lip, to her mouth, where she sucked something off them. She gave Bill a look that was almost a smirk and knelt all the way up, until she was higher up than him. "I need to get to bed before he wakes up."

There wasn't any guilt in the words. She was happy, smiling, fulfilled.

When Ruth stood I could see for the first time that she really was naked below the waist. Her shirttail hung to the top of her mound, hiding a little of that dark brown bush that contrasts strikingly with her flesh. Her thighs are trim. She had worked so hard to lose weight after Will was born, dieting crazily and joining a local gym, where she worked out four evenings a week. When she reached her goal she showed herself off to me, and I celebrated by giving her a full-body massage with baby powder, full-body but with special attention to her thighs, ending with a heavy massage of her vulva that brought her off before I ever got to the cunnilingus, long before I got to the coitus. But I did get to everything. Could Bill appreciate her body like I did? He reached out to grab her vagina, and she let him hold it for a few seconds before she pulled his hand away. I don't know if she gave the hand several short kisses or one long one.

"I have to go."

She bent way over and came back up with her shorts in her hand, and swung them overhead as though in triumph before leaning over to kiss Bill still again. He turned his head a fraction to one side, to dodge her mouth, and she laughed at him and asked: "Oh, are we getting finicky all of a sudden?" That's when I realized she would find her panties and be out in the hall before I could get back to the bedroom. I was frozen, but when she stepped past Bill, he stood and grabbed her from behind, around the waist. She laughed again, trying to be quiet while she did it. He kissed her neck. I began hurrying out to the living room. In my last image of them, his pants and underwear are bunched down around his knees. His butt is bare, and before he pulls Ruth back against him I can tell his penis is almost flaccid.

*****

This is just one of those things.Cole Porter.Just one of those crazy flings. I had to let it go, I thought. There was too much at stake to push the matter. What would happen to our kids if I lost control? Did I want to break up their home? What would happen to Ruth and me? Ruth and me. Well, something had already happened there. But what of the rest of the family? I had to be a man of the world.Forget the bourgeois conventions. It's only sex. Keep it light. Keep it simple. Vogue, vogue, move to the music.Wouldn't we always be there for each other when it counted? My partner and my brother. I'd loved them both for so long. Could it be that bad for them to love on each other a little?

Ruth slipped into the room. I'd beaten her by maybe a minute. Bill must have held onto her a little longer. Maybe she finally gave him that sticky kiss, or they took the time to arrange another session. Tomorrow. The house would be empty.

I can be cool. I can do it. I'll be a sophisticated man of the world. Dress up like a million dollar trouper. Try my best to look like Gary Cooper. Super duper!

Items of clothing dropped to the carpet. Those would be Ruth's blouse and shorts. Next her hand slid under her pillows while I pretended to sleep, and there were the sounds of cloth brushing and catching as she pulled on her nightgown. The sheet was pulled back and she began to ease, ever so gently, into bed.

This was where everything changed again. I became terrified she'd touch me, lay a hand on my arm as she likes to do, the hand that had just been playing with Bill's dick, that she hadn't even washed. I was terrified of everything. She might try to kiss me. That polluted mouth, the new home for millions of Bill's squigglers. My little game with song lyrics failed me.

It's important not to show anything. No weakness. It's not allowed, and it would give everything away, so I'd have to do something.Please don't make me have to confront them, either of them. You can tell by now that I'm not so sophisticated. I'm not very cool. That was all bluster and hope.

I needn't have worried about Ruth touching me, though. She stayed as far on her side of the bed as she could get, turned so she faced away from me. Well, that followed the rest, didn't it? I was an inconvenience. She didn't want to leave Bill to come to me, did she? She'd rather have had the whole night with him, unless the shortness of the time ratcheted up the thrill, but at least tonight she didn't have to playact her life partner role. Now I knew where wereallystood with each other. I'd known it since I saw her hand touch his cheek, but I hadn't wanted to understand. In bed, though, everything was different. It forced itself on me like a lightening flash, more than a flash. It was far brighter and grander than a lightening bolt, so brilliant that I half expected to feel thunder shake the house. Before it faded I took a huge breath, rolled over toward Ruth, held myself up on my arms and barked down at her:

"You could at least have washed your mouth out before you came to bed!"

Ruth jerked and cried out – one brief cry. Then she was completely still. I had thought she'd say something, try to deny it, but nothing. I couldn't even sense her breathing. I rolled back to my side and pulled the covers up. The room had turned deadly quiet.

*****

"Get up!"

I couldn't wait her out. Now that she knew I knew, I couldn't do nothing. I turned on my bed light and sat up. Ruth was still lying motionlessly, but her eyes were wide, staring at me. It came in another flash that she didn't know what to do. She might have lain there all night trying to think, terrified because she'd been caught, trying not to move until she could decide how in the world to respond, realizing at the same time that it was now too late to respond. You'd think anyone putting herself in a position to be caught would have contingency plans.

"Get up!"

She sat up but she didn't otherwise move. She held her hands close against her breasts, hunched over, twisting the end of the sheet with tight fists.

"Come on!"

"What are you going to do?" She tried to control her voice, to make it neutral, but it quavered.

"We're going to the den."

She got up, but she wouldn't get close to me. I hurried down the hall. She shuffled about ten feet behind.

Bill was sitting on the couch, absolutely nonchalant, pretending to look at some book. He must have heard, the bastard, but he's cooler than Ruth.

"What's up?"

"I know what you two did. You can't..." There was this catch in my throat.Take a breath. Finish up. "You son of a bitch! You aren't welcome in my house anymore. Pack your things and get out."

"What are you talking about, John?" Bill knew the drill. God, he's cool. Never admit anything. Always stonewall. Don't tell them anything they don't already know.

"Don't try that, Bill. You're going." I was out in the room. Ruth had drifted into the doorway.

"John, nothing's happened." He looked innocent, and hurt. I wouldn't believe he could have done anything, if I hadn't seen it. If Ruth hadn't caved so quickly, I might have begun to doubt my eyes.

"Drop it!" I wanted to be civil, to hold onto a little bit of Cole Porter wisdom. I didn't want to blow up, but my voice was getting tighter and louder. "This is just among us. No one else needs to know about it. Just get the hell out."

"This is crazy talk, John."

That's when I cracked. I usedthatvoice, the one that's thin and sharp, that cuts.

"You son of abitch! Sheblewyou! Youmasturbatedher! Do you want me to describe the sequence? Get out of my goddamned housenow!"

This time he didn't answer. Finally he stopped trying to deny. It got completely quiet in the den, almost completely. Ruth made a little whimpering sound in the doorway, which she tried to stifle by holding a hand over her mouth. I intended to stand there until they were gone. I guess I expected Ruth to go, too. I don't know, because my thinking wasn't clear. It seemed to make sense. But here came the first complication.

"Mommy!" It was Kaetlyn.

Ruth tottered in the doorway. She began walking toward Kaetlyn's room.No! I rushed past her and hissed: "Don't youdarego near my children!"

*****

"Hi, Katie-Kat. Did you wake up?"

"I want Mommy!"

"What's the matter, sweetie?"

"You yelled!"

Ruth was right behind me, in the doorway, looking bewildered. She held her hands as though she didn't know what to do with them. She didn't leave, but she didn't come close either.

"I'm sorry, Princess. I saw your mother giving Uncle Bill a blow job and I got upset."

"What's a blow job, Daddy?"

No, of course that isn't how it went.

"I'm sorry, Princess. Mommy and Uncle Bill were playing a game, and I got excited."

"I want Mommy."

Ruth stepped forward and I turned all the way around to give her a look. "Mommy has to help Uncle Bill pack." Pause. "Then she has to go brush her teeth." Ruth didn't move. Her mouth was open. That mouth. She still didn't know what to do with her hands, and she didn't come any closer.

"Does Uncle Bill have to go?"

"Yes, he does. And Mommy's going to help him pack." When I glanced back again, Ruth was gone. "I tell you what, Katie-Kat. You get an extra special bedtime story. Which one would you like?"

From the den there were quiet voices, voices trying not to catch the attention of a child, quiet but filled with tension. They had a sharp, brittle quality, not at all like the rich breathiness a half hour ago. There were footsteps. Someone came out to the hall bathroom and I could hear items being moved on the countertop. I closed Kaetlyn's door all but a crack, and I tried not to look back at it. There were more footsteps. Far away, the kitchen door opened and slammed. It did it again. I waited for the last slam, and while I did that I sat beside my daughter and kissed her nose and told her the story of the little girl named Kaetlyn and her magical pony.

*****

Kaetlyn was asleep. Bill was gone. Ruth was standing in the den.

There was still the single torchiere lamp. The room was still dim, deep reddish-brown with charcoal shadows. Ruth was the main difference. She was almost as far from the light as you could get and be in the room, at the dinette table, almost to the case with the family picture. Her hand rested on the table, though you couldn't tell if she'd been leaning. She wouldn't look directly at me. She didn't say anything. She was justthere. The den was a shambles, but there was nothing left of Bill's, except maybe Ruth.

"I see he left you holding the bag." I had wondered if she'd be here. "That's the way these things go. They never stand by you."

"John, it wasn't ..."

"I don't want to hear it. You should have gone with him. I don't want anything to do with you."

I couldn't let her get started, because of what she might say, and how I would react. At that moment, I couldn't face how terribly complicated, and exhausting, and sad this whole thing would be, so I walked back to the bedroom. It can all can wait for morning, when I'll have to face it. I guess you know everything. Oh, there's one more thing. Behind me Ruth said, "I'm sorry."

How do you answer that? I lie here in bed and the time passes, all those events playing out in my mind, over and over. I keep coming up with different responses to her "sorry." If she had finally followed me, to talk, I could have used one of them. Sure I could.

End of Part One.