by Blaise Quin
“Told you it could be better,” said Justin.
Emily squeezed his hand in reply.
“You know, if you. . .if you need to, when I’m gone. . .”
She smiled. “You know I do, sometime.” She felt him stiffen. Even though she couldn’t see his face she knew something was wrong. “What is it?” she asked, turning her head. His face was a mixture of confusion.
“When I’m gone, you. . .”
“You do too, right? Touch yourself?”
“Oh, right. Sure.”
Now it was her turn to frown. “What did you think I meant?”
“Nothing, just. . .”
Her eyes opened wide in shock. “You think I had sex with other men when you were away? For real?”
“No, not really, just when you said that. . .”
“Oh.”
Justin plopped on his back, looking up at the ceiling. “Three months is a long time. So, if you, you know, want to. . .”
Emily couldn’t believe her ears. “Justin, I couldn’t. I just couldn’t.”
“You have before.”
“That was different. You were there.”
“But we talked about maybe someday you going on a date, doing it without me there.”
They had, and it had excited her. But talking about it and doing it were altogether different.
Of course, that’s what she’d thought when all this had started. Just harmless fantasies, played out in their bedroom. There was no way she’d actually have real sex with another man.
Yet she had.
“It wouldn’t be the same,” she protested.
“Why not? What difference does it make if I’m sitting at home waiting for you, or sitting in a hotel room in another city, or out at sea on an oil rig?”
Emily opened her mouth to argue. No words came out, because she couldn’t think of what to say. Of course there was no difference.
“All I’m saying, is if you feel you want to, or need to, I’ll understand. As long as you tell me everything. Even if it is after the fact.”
Emily finally found her voice. “Justin, I don’t think I could.”
Justin must have noticed how she had so quickly gone from I just couldn’t to I don’t think I could. “I just wanted to let you know it would be fine with me,” he said. “You can think about it.”
Emily closed her eyes, accepting the reality that no doubt she would do just that.
The first week Justin had been gone wasn’t as bad as Emily had expected. In some ways it was just like any other work trip he had taken. She ran around getting extra errands done, ate a few dinners out with her girlfriends, went to the gym. For the first few days Justin was in a hotel, not yet on the rig, so they were able to talk every night.
The topic they had discussed before he had left had not come up, but it had hung in the air. At least that’s how Emily felt. For his part, he asked about what she had been doing, which was normal, although she wondered if he was secretly hoping she had gone on a date, or was planning to.
Already.
The second week started off fine. Emily was at home, cleaning out the walk in closet, when her sister Lisa called. Emily continued to rearrange clothes as they caught up.
Lisa said, “I talked to Dwayne today.”
Emily stopped what she was doing. Dwayne. Her first lover besides Justin. “What does Antoine think about you and Dwayne talking?” Antoine was Lisa’s live in boyfriend.
“He’s cool. Besides, Dwayne was really calling about you, not me.”
“Me?” Emily’s voice had a little squeak in it.
“He was away for a while, a last trip before starting his new job. Not far from you, as a matter of fact.”
“And you’re telling me this why?”
“He wanted me to tell you that he was quite smitten with you.”
Lisa paused, and Emily was wondering what to say. Was she supposed to tell her Lisa to pass along to Dwayne that she thought about Dwayne in return? That she masturbated thinking about him? That sometimes when Justin was making love to her, she was fantasizing about Dwayne? Fantasies often coaxed along by Justin?
Emily countered with, “That’s nice of him to say.”
Lisa burst out laughing. “You’re still the sweet one. Listen, I’m not trying to pry anything out of you, and I don’t think Dwayne is either. He’s too sure of himself to need compliments. But he did mention something about unfinished business with you.”
Emily was still foolishly holding a handful of hangers. She leaned back against the wall, suddenly faint. Unfinished business. Dwayne had wanted to have more sex with her that night; he had been ready to go again.
And she might have, if it had not been her first time with another man. She’d been so worried about how Justin was going to react after it had really sunk in.
“Emily, you there?”
“Yes, yes.” The wall behind her was hard, and Emily leaned into it, just as she’d been pressed against the wall by Dwayne in the hotel room.
“Do you want to be with him again? What do you want me to tell him?”
Yes! her body screamed. Emily could feel Dwayne’s hands on her, pressing. “It doesn’t matter what I want,” she admitted. “Justin is away. I couldn’t do anything.”
“Does that matter?”
Which was basically the question Justin had asked. It didn’t, but it did.
Emily closed her eyes, imagining a conversation with Justin, telling him about Dwayne wanting her again. Maybe that would be enough, just pretending. If she could even reach Justin at all.
Her hand was between her legs, and she pulled it away, embarrassed even though she was alone in a closet.
Lisa must have sensed Emily’s internal struggle, because she said, “Dwayne’s new job is at Park Hospital. He’s going to be a physician’s assistant. If you want to see him, you can call me, or reach him there.”
Emily didn’t remember the rest of the conversation. She had dropped her phone, shoved her hands down her yoga pants. Spread-eagled against the closet wall, she furiously rubbed herself, thinking about Dwayne.
I was back in my hotel room after a long day at our satellite office. This was the last night I’d be here before checking out and moving to the rig for at least a month, if not longer. Even I managed to get some time away, I probably wouldn’t be able to make it cross country to go home. Just a few days in the office, and then back to sea.
I looked around the room. Nothing much to do; I just had to throw my clothes in my bag the next morning. My other suitcase had been sent ahead to the rig.
I dialed Emily, but the home phone went right to the answering machine. We really didn’t need the home phone, but it had an odd sentimental value to me—the first time Emily and I had phone sex, she’d been on the home phone. Any time we’d had a sex talk since then, we’d done it the same way. It seemed even more personal. And given what was going on with cell phone hacking, more private.
With the time change it was well past work hours for her. Maybe she’d gone out with her girlfriends. I decided not to call her cell.
Being apart so long was going to be hard for both of us. I’d be busy, but I knew I’d miss her. Weeklong trips were one thing, every minute so filled the days flew by. This would be different.
And now that we were having great sex again, I knew I’d especially miss that. Emily seemed to have been into it even more than ever, well beyond her interest in getting pregnant. Obviously it had to do with our shared fantasies.
I started to get a little aroused thinking about it, so I tried the phone again. Maybe I could talk her into one last night of phone sex.
Still no answer.
I paced the room like a frustrated animal in heat. Where was she? Maybe she’d taken up my offer, and was on a date. Would she do that so soon after I’d left? Without telling me? Maybe it was going to be a surprise for my last night before leaving. Could that be it?
My mind filled with all the possibilities. Emily at a bar. Le
tting men fight over her. Being taken away by the winner. Kissing him in the elevator on the way to a hotel room.
I needed release, my cock straining against my pants. I sat in the chair, pretending I was watching them on the bed. No, there wouldn’t be a comforter. I jumped up and pulled it back, exposing the sheets. Still not right. I turned off all the lights except for the bathroom, left the door ajar, and messed up the sheets.
Then sat back down in the chair, stroking myself, pretending the bed had just been used by Emily, and she was now in the shower with her lover. The fold in the sheets, was that a huge wet spot? The sounds from the bathroom, were they doing it again, in the shower? Was she on her knees, sucking on him?
When my phone rang I was so into the fantasy that I fully expected it to be Emily, calling to tell me about her date. I shot my load before the third ring.
A few weeks later, Emily sat anxiously in the home office, staring at the blinking dot on the computer. She was early for her skype with Justin, but she really needed to see his face, to talk to him.
They had been emailing, and now were trying the skype. Justin had warned it might not work that well, the internet from the rig relied on a satellite dish that was hard to keep aligned.
When the connection was finally made, she sighed with relief. “Justin!”
The image was small and jerky, but his smile made it all worthwhile. “Hi Emily. How are you?”
“Good, great, now. Everything okay there?”
“Fine. No problems.” The video jumped out, then came back, fuzzy. “Except for communications. We might only have few minutes, the sea is really choppy.”
“Okay. I—.” Emily wasn’t quite sure what to say, and how to say it. “I miss you,” she said instead.
“I miss you too. It will go by fast.”
Emily wasn’t so sure, but she said, “I hope so.”
They made small talk, speaking fast, unsure of how long the connection would last. The video started to drop off more frequently. “We probably should sign off,” warned Justin.
“Just a minute, I need to tell you something.”
“What is it?” His voice was filled with interest. “This isn’t so private.”
“Well, in that case. . .”
“You could give me a hint,” he said. “Is it something we talked about?”
“Yes, it is, I—.”
Justin leaned closer to the camera, his eyes sparkling.
Oh my gosh, Emily thought. He thinks I’m going to tell him about a date!
She opened her mouth to speak, not sure of what to do. She was so afraid of telling him now with that on his mind. And the more she thought about it, what she had to say was far better done in person. “Yes, it’s something we talked about,” she said. “A lot.”
The video cut out, glimpses of Justin interspersed with a black bar. “I understand,” he said, his voice breaking up.
“I love you,” she said, her voice breaking as well, but not from the connection.
Over the next few weeks, Emily was busier than ever, making to do lists, running errands. In the evenings she spent a lot of time in the gym, burning off her pent up energy. She had not run into Damian again. She was alternately relieved and disappointed about not seeing him.
The evenings were terrible. She dreaded the empty house, the empty bed. A few nights she actually slept on the couch, waking up with a stiff neck. She left extra early in the morning, just to get out of the house, afraid if she lingered she’d be lonely, and then she’d end up masturbating.
That might not be so bad, but she was masturbating at night as well. Her hormones were raging, she’d never been so continually aroused in her entire life. Even at the height of her exploration with Justin she’d never been so insatiable. If Justin had been there he would have certainly worried something was wrong with her. Could a man have too much sex?
She watched sex videos. Reread the comments about the video they had posted, still a favorite on the site. Used her dildo. Every time she’d finish with a huge orgasm, yet noting sated her.
Saturday afternoon, she looked around the house. It was spotless, nothing left to clean. Even the garage was organized. It was cold and damp out, not good for a walk or a run. She dreaded the coming winter. It was much warmer where Justin was.
Which gave her a great idea. Why hadn’t she thought of this before? She got on the computer to check flights. Justin was scheduled to come off the rig on Monday for a few days. She could fly there, surprise him. Even one night would be fun. She could tell him then.
Just as she had found a flight her incoming email flashed. A message from Justin.
Just wanted to let you know that my schedule changed, we have to troubleshoot a problem on the rig. Won’t be off as planned. Will send more details later. Love you.
She threw back her head and closed her eyes, stymied.
With shaking hands, she sent a quick reply, then stared at the blank screen.
She had to do something.
An hour later, Emily was walking through the pedestrian mall downtown. The sun had peeked out, and though it was still cold, it felt good shining through the massive glass atrium. She had parked in the garage and left her coat in the car, doing her little bit to extend the warm weather, even though she was indoors.
She’d never been to this area. The walkway led to a gallery of stores and then into a huge shopping mall at the far end. The other direction led to another series of walkways and a skyway to a modern gleaming building, Park Hospital.
I’m not here because Dwayne works there, she told herself. I just wanted to see the mall.
Yet two hours later, after she’d visited ten stores but hadn’t bought a thing, Emily realized she was lingering. Ashamed, she went back home and fought the urge to touch herself.
And lost.
Three days later, she was back at the mall again, this time during her lunch hour. Worse, she’d stopped at the mall on Sunday and on Monday night, once going so far as to walk through the hospital lobby. She was being foolish, that was for sure. What was she going to do if she ran into Dwayne in the lobby? It wasn’t like she needed to see him in the flesh to conjure up his image in her mind, she had been doing it practically every night.
And what excuse would she have when Dwyane asked her why she was there? No matter what she told him he would know.
She didn’t want to really do anything. She just wanted to catch a glimpse of him, actually hoping he didn’t look as well as she remembered him, so she could get him out of her head.
Her work heels clicking on the tile, she made her way purposefully along the skyway, down the stairs, and into the hospital lobby. Nicer than most other hospitals she’d been in, but really the same, people checking in, others waiting. She realized Dwayne wouldn’t be out here, he’d use an employee entrance.
Finally comprehending she was teetering on being a stalker, she shook her head and went back to the mall. She’d grab a bite to eat, then go back to work, never to step foot in here again.
Relaxed and laughing at her obsession, Emily picked up a cobb salad, considered, then asked for extra chicken, really hungry after a week of an unsettled stomach.
As she was looking over the vast selection in the drink refrigerator, a deep voice behind her said, “Sometimes it’s hard to choose, isn’t it.”
She froze, her hand on a bottle of juice. That voice.
She turned, and there he was. Dwayne. The same broad chest, the same wide shoulders, the same cocky grin. His hair was much shorter, but other than that, he looked the same as what she had remembered.
No, he looked better.
“What are you doing here?” she blurted.
“I work over there,” he jerked his head toward the hospital. “But I assume you know that. What are you doing here?”
“Eating lunch.”
Dwayne’s eyebrows arched. “They must make a mean salad. For you to come all the way across town.”
“I—how do you know where I work
?”
Now he was grinning widely. “I didn’t. You just admitted as much.”
Emily was still holding the juice. Her hand grew so hot the condensation ran over her fingers. Trembling, she set her tray down on the nearest table. Should she ask him to join her? Continue with the farce that she was there just for lunch?
They could eat. Maybe he’d say a few nice words, make her feel good. She could go back to work. Or he’d say something obnoxious, which would break the spell.
She sat down, she had to, because her legs were trembling. Maybe Dwayne would just leave, take all the pressure off her.
“You started work already?” she asked, stalling for time to decide.
“Not yet. Just here for paperwork. Picking up test results, stuff like that.”
She bit. “Test results?”
“Yes, they require STD and HIV tests.” There was a pause, and Dwayne added, “Clean as a whistle. Ready to go.”
Emily’s eyes shot to the next table, but the couple there were speaking a foreign language and didn’t seem to be paying attention. The café was so packed maybe no one noticed her and Dwayne.
Yeah, right. Her maybe, but no one would miss Dwayne.
She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye as she fumbled with the foil packet of dressing. He was wearing a button down shirt, yet it was far from corporate, the material a smooth black silk that hugged his body and accentuated his muscles. She felt his presence hovering next to the table, wondering what everyone was thinking, reminding her of how Damian had ogled her in the gym.
His huge hand came into view, engulfing hers, taking the dressing packet away. “It’s always easier if a man opens it up,” he said. “Things can be so tightly packaged.”
Her fingers were lost in his, a momentary grasp that made her feel constrained, held down. She tried to pull her hand away, but for some reason it seemed to take a long time, her motions slow.
She dropped her hands in her lap, not daring to look up.
Dwayne tore open the packet and poised it over her plate. “Where would you like it?”
