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We went into it with our eyes open, but opening them had taken a long time. At the time of our marriage I’m certain neither of us had ever considered the notion of marital infidelity, much less wife-swapping and other such refinements. I can speak with absolute certainty for myself, and for Helen I have the voice of her diary which she abandoned with everything else when she left. The only entry at all pertinent is from three months prior to our wedding.
“Tuesday, October 3: Went out with Mike. Seemed a little crummy with Bob out of town, but engaged isn’t the same as married. We saw a rerun of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. Mike kept hanging his hand over my shoulder and making it creep down my sweater. Pretty mean; but I guess he couldn’t know how sensitive my breasts are at this time of the month. I kept shooing him away, but by the end of the show I was feeling pretty amorous, all the same. He wanted to park, and I let him. We made out for a while. He really charged my mouth with his tongue. I wouldn’t let him unhook my bra, but he squeezed my tits around a lot anyway and reached in and got my nipples, which really turned me on. Then he started up my legs. He got onto my bare thighs, and I had to stop him. If it wasn’t then, it would have been never. He was real sweaty and mad and said I was a prick-teaser. I told him I was engaged and that he knew it. Then he sulked and finally drove me home. So I guess I won’t try that again. From now on if Bobby doesn’t make love to me, nobody will.”
Fictional reading for entertainment purposes only.