by Jason Starr
FUGITIVE_RED: I don’t want to pressure you into anything If you don’t want to do it, no worries :) We could just say goodbye and go on with our lives
Although we’d just met, the idea of never communicating with her again seemed much worse than any alternative. I knew I’d become emotionally attached to her, but until that moment, I didn’t realize how involved I’d actually gotten. I was in deep, and the quicksand wasn’t holding. This wasn’t an actual exit—it only seemed like one.
NYCRockGod2: Okay, let’s go for it!
I knew I’d just made an awful decision, but the rush of excitement felt too good to pass up.
What else was new?
CHAPTER EIGHT
FUGITIVE_RED: Great!!! How’s Friday? 6 pm??
Actually Friday—two days away—was perfect. Maria was always exhausted from her work week on Fridays, and I usually hit an A.A. meeting then went out to a diner with my friends.
NYCRockGod2: Friday @ 6 works!But where?
I was worried about the logistics of going to a hotel, having to use a credit card.
FUGITIVE_RED: Great! I have a townhouse in the city 32nd between 2 and 3 We can meet there I’m so excited!!
I felt the adrenaline rush I always felt when I couldn’t stop myself from doing something.
NYCRockGod2: Wait I’m little confused Thought you lived in White Plains?
Had I caught her in a lie?
FUGITIVE_RED: I do
FUGITIVE_RED: I mean we do
FUGITIVE_RED: We have two residences actually Ah.
NYCRockGod2: Ah
But now I was curious how they could afford two residences—especially a second residence that was a townhouse that could cost a few million dollars. Did they own the townhouse? Either way, they had to be wealthy.
I was glad, though. A townhouse sounded much safer than going to a hotel and leaving a paper trail of bills.
Well, unless …
NYCRockGod2: What if your husband shows up?
FUGITIVE_RED: He won’t. I’ll arrive before you No one will see us I promise!
It sounded like there wasn’t much risk, but I knew I wasn’t in the best state of mind to be a good judge.
Then I had an idea:
NYCRockGod2: Do you want to talk on the phone first? Would be nice to hear your voice. :)
FUGITIVE_RED: I thought you wanted to meet me :)
NYCRockGod2: I do!!!
NYCRockGod2: I just thought it would be nice to talk that’s all
A long pause. I thought I’d screwed up, turned her off, made her think I wasn’t interested.
Then she sent:
FUGITIVE_RED: We can talk, but wouldn’t it be sexier to keep it more mysterious?
She was right. We were going to meet anyway, so what was the point of talking?
NYCRockGod2: Okay!
FUGITIVE_RED: :)
FUGITIVE_RED: I have to go my husband’s coming home soon But I’m so excited Jack!! Can’t wait till I can actually see you and feel you hehe :) It’ll be so, so amazing I can’t wait!!
Feel me? God, I was turned on just imagining what this meant.
NYCRockGod2: Can’t wait too! :)
* * *
The next two days were amazing. I wasn’t wrought with anxiety, the way I’d been, well, for years. I felt attractive, sexy, fun, and I was looking forward to the future rather than dreading it. Yeah, okay, I’d made an impulsive, risky decision; but maybe, for once, this would work out for me.
Most of my daily routine hadn’t changed at all. I went to work and spent time with Jonah after school. When Maria came home, we avoided each other. I could tell she was still upset about our arguments earlier in the week and expected me to eventually apologize, the way I’d done in the past, but I was through playing these games, always being passive, trying to keep the peace. It was liberating to feel like I’d finally gotten past this negative pattern, that I had started to take control.
When I wasn’t working or parenting, I was in my own head, daydreaming about Sophie. I imagined her standing in front of the foot of the bed, undressing. Not a striptease—there was nothing overtly erotic about my fantasy. Just matter-of-factly unbuttoning her blouse, one button at a time, and then letting the blouse fall to the floor. Then unclasping her bra, revealing her small, firm breasts, and letting the bra fall. Finally, taking off her jeans and panties, letting them fall to the floor, and then standing naked in front of me.
In the bathroom—at home and at work—I masturbated to this fantasy. I hadn’t felt so sexed up since I was a teenager.
While the chats with Sophie clearly had a profound effect on my overall mood, making me more upbeat, energetic, and optimistic, I didn’t realize the full influence she’d had on me until Thursday after work, when I took my Gibson guitar out from the back of the hallway closet, dusted it off, tuned it, and began strumming.
I played one of my favorite R.E.M. songs—“Superman.” I hadn’t played it in years, but when I started playing I felt like I’d never stopped. I had natural musical talent, perfect pitch, and I was as good as I’d always been. The only thing I’d forgotten was how relaxed playing music made me feel, like I’d taken a break from existence. I know this will sound nauseating, but I disappeared into the music. Jack Harper didn’t exist anymore—he was just a vessel, a conduit between the guitar and the music. Why had I given this up? Or, better question, why had I let Maria convince me I should give it up?
After R.E.M., I played some old U2 and Nirvana, then one of my old original songs: “City People.” I remembered all of it, as if I’d just walked onto the stage for a gig downtown twenty years ago. I sang: “City people, lose control … City people, no place to go …”
Okay, so I wasn’t exactly Dylan, but the song had been a crowd pleaser.
“You play guitar, Daddy?”
Jonah had come out of his room.
I stopped playing and said, “Yeah. Of course I do.”
“Wow, you’re really good, Daddy,” he said. “Can you teach me how to play?”
“I’d love to,” I said.
Jonah sat next to me on the couch, and I showed him how to play the basic chords. He got the knack of it right away and seemed to have some genuine talent.
When I was demonstrating a chord for him, Maria arrived. Seeing me playing a guitar seemed to surprise her.
“What’re you doing?” she asked.
The question seemed loaded. I interpreted it to mean, Why are you playing guitar again?
“Just giving Jonah a little guitar lesson,” I said. “I think he’s a natural.”
“Listen, Mom,” Jonah said excitedly, and then he played the chords he’d made.
“That’s great,” Maria said, but she didn’t seem to be paying attention.
Deciding to not let this go, the way I’d let things like this slide in the past, I said, “Is something wrong?”
“Just a long day at work,” she said, on her way into the bedroom.
“Damn it,” I muttered.
Jonah seemed concerned.
“Not you, buddy,” I said. “You’re doing awesome. I think you’re gonna be a rock star someday.”
Jonah grinned and continued practicing.
* * *
On Thursday night, Maria went out for drinks with work friends. I was excited because it gave Sophie and me an opportunity to have an IM session. I know, I know, sneaking around was incredibly immature, but the thrill of having a secret chat session was impossible to resist, and I’d been looking forward to it all day.
Jonah was engrossed watching TV, so I went into the bedroom, locked the door, and logged on to Discreet Hookups.
Sophie was already online, as I’d messaged her earlier in the day, letting her know that my wife had plans this evening and that I’d be “free to chat.”
NYCRockGod2: Hey!
FUGITIVE_RED: Hey sexxxy!
A woman who thought I was sexy—what unhappily married forty-four-year-old man didn’t want to hear t
hat? And sexy with three X’s no less.
FUGITIVE_RED: I’m so excited, it’s been hard to sleep
NYCRockGod2: Ditto!
FUGITIVE_RED: :)
FUGITIVE_RED: Can I tell you something important that you need to know??
Uh-uh, was a bombshell coming? I’d had a gnawing feeling that all of this seemed too good to be true—there had to be something wrong with her. Was she going to tell me she was a man? Had an STD? An arrest record?
NYCRockGod2: Sure.
FUGITIVE_RED: I hope you don’t think this is too weird
NYCRockGod2: (crossing my heart)
After a long pause:
FUGITIVE_RED: It has to do with how I like to have sex
She had my attention.
NYCRockGod2: Oooh tell me
I’d been fantasizing about sex with Sophie for days, but I’d kept it to myself. It felt good to express myself, to be open.
There was a very long pause, so I knew a long message was coming. Somehow the anticipation of the message made it feel even more erotic.
FUGITIVE_RED: I’m a submissive. I like to be restrained during sex.
Pause, then:
FUGITIVE_RED: I like to be tied up, spanked hard. Would you enjoy doing that to me?
I had once tied up a girlfriend in college. It had excited me, but I’d never suggested it to Maria because I knew she’d be horrified, or at least offended.
NYCRockGod2: Yes!
FUGITIVE_RED: Yes you’ll be my domme?
NYCRockGod2: Yes I’ll be yr domme!
FUGITIVE_RED: Mmmm That REALLY turns me on I’m so wet right now Jack!
NYCRockGod2: Then lets go for it!
FUGITIVE_RED: R u sure you’re okay with it?? I don’t want to offend you if you’re not into it totally understand :)
NYCRockGod2: No, I want to tie you up Not offended at all!
It felt great to feel like myself, untethered.
FUGITIVE_RED: Awesome! Oh I like it rough too … VERY rough. I want you to call me bad names Will you call me bad names Jack?
NYCRockGod2: I’ll do anything you want me to do, Sophie
Long pause. Then:
FUGITIVE_RED: Tell me what you want to do
I tried to think.
FUGITIVE_RED: Still there???
NYCRockGod2: I like kissing And holding you
Ugh, was that the best sexting I could do? I hesitated because I wasn’t sure how graphic she wanted me to get.
FUGITIVE_RED: That’s nice but you don’t have to keep this PG 13 :)
Well, if that’s what she really wants …
NYCRockGod2: OK I want to pin you down so you can’t move
FUGITIVE_RED: Mmm I want that … Tell me more
NYCRockGod2: I want to fuck you so hard
I was getting into it now; I liked this.
FUGITIVE_RED: Yesssss please fuck me Jack MORE GRAPHIC please!
NYCRockGod2: I want to pound you and fuck you so hard with my big hard cock
A long pause. The delay got me even more turned on. I was imagining her getting turned on, concocting an erotic reply.
Finally I got:
FUGITIVE_RED: Better OMG yessss please fuck me hard and slap me in the face really hard and tell me how bad I am
NYCRockGod2: You’re so bad Sophie
FUGITIVE_RED: Slap my ass harder
NYCRockGod2: I’m slapping it harder
FUGITIVE_RED: OMG Will you tie me up too?
NYCRockGod2: Yes
FUGITIVE_RED: OMG Love that!!!!
NYCRockGod2: Yes I can’t wait to tie you up and slap your face like you deserve
FUGITIVE_RED: OMG I want you to tie me up while you’re fucking me so hard
NYCRockGod2: OMG
FUGITIVE_RED: OMG you’re getting me so fucking wet right now My pussy is so fucking wet for you Jack!!
I typed, Mmm you just made me come so hard for you, but I deleted it. I didn’t think it would turn her off—I didn’t think anything could offend this woman—but I didn’t want to risk it.
So instead I sent:
NYCRockGod2: God I can’t wait to see you tomorrow
FUGITIVE_RED: I can’t wait too! I wish it was tomorrow already This is going to be SO FUCKING AMAZING JACK!
* * *
I got up before dawn and I was so excited and I couldn’t fall back asleep. It didn’t matter, though, because when I finally got out of bed around seven, I felt fully rested.
I had arranged for Jonah to have a play date after school with his friend Leo—Leo’s nanny would pick up Jonah and Leo from school, and then Maria would pick up Jonah after work from Leo’s—so I planned to go to meet Sophie directly from work. Now I just had to decide what to wear. Usually I barely thought about getting dressed in the morning; I put on whatever was clean and wasn’t too wrinkled and I was out the door. But today I wanted to look my best.
I put on beige slacks, a black button-down, and a black sport jacket. I looked good, but did I look too good? I usually didn’t wear sport jackets to work so it would create a possible red flag for Maria. Also, I didn’t feel like myself; I felt like I was trying too hard to impress and I reminded myself that there was no reason to try so hard—Sophie was already into me.
So, keeping it casual, but not too casual, I went with jeans and the button-down. Underneath I was wearing the boxer briefs that I’d kept in the back of my underwear drawer for years because they were way too tight on me but, hell, I felt sexy in them and, okay, yes, I liked how they showed off my package.
After I dropped Jonah at school, I went to the office. I’d purposely cleared my schedule for the entire day, knowing I’d be too hyped up to focus on work. I tried to do some of the paperwork on my last sale, but I kept getting distracted by the fantasy of Sophie undressing and flashing back to snippets of our sexting.
My bliss must’ve been evident because Brian leaned into my cubicle and said, “You got one sale and now you’re retiring?”
“Ha ha,” I said, playing along, like I thought it was funny.
Later, Andrew Wolf said to me, “Why you all dressed up? Got a hot date?”
I hadn’t realized that a button-down constituted getting dressed up, but I guess for me it did.
Trying to ignore the heat, or at least sweat, on the back of my neck, I said, “Ha, no, just have an apartment to show later.”
“This is good,” Andrew said. “I like this—this new attitude of yours. Putting on a shirt to come to the office, showing some new professionalism. But don’t go ahead and rest on your laurels now. You’re on a roll. Keep it up.”
“I will,” I said.
Normally the vaguely demeaning subtext of his comments would’ve pissed me off and ruined my whole day, but today I refused to let the negativity affect me. I was in such a great mood today that nothing could bring me down. After all, I was meeting Sophie later—Fugitive Red herself! This was going to be the best day of my life.
Trying to stick to a seemingly normal routine, I had a banal text exchange with Maria. I reminded her that I was going to an A.A. meeting later, then out to dinner with friends and that she’d pick up Jonah at Leo’s apartment.
She replied: K K
The afternoon dragged. As I tried to work, I couldn’t stop checking the time on the lower right-hand corner of my monitor. Although I didn’t have to meet Sophie until six o’clock, I left my office at about four fifteen.
The townhouse was in Kips Bay, about forty blocks from my office. I could’ve taken the subway or bus, but I had time to kill and lots of pent-up energy so I walked instead. I was so absorbed in my fantasies—imagining what it would be like to see her for the first time, and hold her, kiss her—that time got disjointed and I just seemed to wind up in midtown and I barely remembered walking there. I still had time to kill, so I went to a coffee bar and checked out some of the newer rock bands on YouTube and Spotify. I used to feel plugged into the business, but over the past few years I’d fallen behind. I was eager to get back
into music for real, though, perhaps even suggest jamming with Sophie sometime. I imagined Sophie and I going upstate together for a weekend, getting a cabin by the lake, and spending the weekend jamming, laughing, and having amazing sex.
I continued downtown.
At ten to six, I arrived on the corner of her block on 32nd Street. I wondered if Sophie had arrived at the townhouse already. We hadn’t exchanged cell numbers so I couldn’t text her, and I didn’t have her actual email either. I considered messengering her via Discreet Hookups but decided against it. We already had made the plan, so what was the point? I did check to see if she had messaged me though, in case she’d had to change the plan for some reason. She hadn’t messaged me, so I assumed this was it—she was there.
On 32nd Street, I passed a schoolyard and was approaching the townhouse. Paranoid, I looked around in every direction, to make sure no one I knew happened to be passing by. In New York that sort of coincidence was incredibly unlikely, but I had to look anyway.
Then I thought, What the hell am I doing?
For a few minutes, I just stood there totally confused, as if I’d passed out and regained consciousness. The idea of having a safe, guiltless affair was ridiculous. I wasn’t a philanderer; I wasn’t Rob McEvoy. I couldn’t go off and casually cheat on my wife and manage to pull off that kind of deception. I was a horrible liar. Maria probably already suspected something was going on, and if I actually cheated on her, she’d know right away. An affair wouldn’t save my marriage; it would destroy it.
And how could I do this to her, the mother of our son? I had my issues with her, but she’d stood by me through my darkest times, and this was how I was going to repay her?
Then I reminded myself how my marriage actually was on a daily basis, how I hadn’t been happy in years, and how invigorated I’d felt while chatting with Sophie online. Thinking about it this way, it seemed crazy not to go. Besides, nothing had to happen today. This was just a first meeting—like a first date really. I could check her out and if anything seemed off about the situation, I could always bail. If things went great and we wound up having sex, it didn’t necessarily mean my marriage would be over. It could be a onetime thing, a fling, and it could force us to deal with marital issues head-on. I could rededicate myself to my marriage, convince Maria that we needed counseling, or I could decide that I’d done everything I could possibly do to try to save the marriage and move on. Either way, the important thing I had to remember was that I was in total control—I was the driver of my life, not the passenger.
