Getting Even

Hell, I’d take mediocre sex right now. That sad reality has me forgetting about my reservations and I forge ahead to find the raunchiest piece of lingerie here. I find panties with no crotch, bras with feathers at the nipple. I hang on to both like they’re the answers to all my problems.

When I see a maid’s outfit on a mannequin, I can’t help but laugh. But once I stop chuckling, I take a closer look. This maid’s outfit is barely there. Talk about stepping out of your comfort zone to do something different. In this uniform, I can role-play. I can be a lousy cook, or suck at dusting.

And Charles can spank me, then punish me with his piercing shaft….

I bite down on my lip to keep from laughing out loud. I’ve been reading way too many historical romances.

I continue to browse. There’s also a mannequin in leather, wearing a dog collar and holding a whip. That’s an idea. I could always whip Charles for being a bad boy. But I can’t quite imagine him on all fours with his butt in the air. I pick up a package with the maid’s uniform and stuff it under my arm. I even choose a black wig. If I’m going to role-play, I may as well go all out.

Fifteen minutes in this place and I’m feeling like a different woman. So much so that when I stroll toward the cash register—passing through an aisle full of vibrators—I stop and take a gander. I more than take a gander, actually, but hey, I’m curious. The shaft that gets my attention is long, thick and blue (an odd color given its lifelike dimensions but I’m not about to ask why). I pick it up and examine it through the packaging.

“Oooh, I love that one.”

I jump with fright, dropping the blue penis and my crotchless underwear to the floor. Cute little Suzie doesn’t miss a beat. She quickly scoops my items up.

Knowing that my face is flaming, I accept the items but don’t meet her eyes.

“There’s also this,” Suzie says. She picks up a display penis that’s extremely huge. “This one feels so real. Touch it.”

God forgive me, I say to myself. Then I touch the proffered penis and am surprised at just how soft it is. “Nice,” I mumble, for lack of something more appropriate to say.

“The balls even move on this one, giving added stimulation. And it has three speed levels, depending on what you prefer.”

I know I’m as red as a beet. “Um…I think I’ll stick with this stuff.” I lift the lingerie items. There’s no way I can bring another penis into my house, even if I could use it. What would my husband say?

Suzie leads the way to the register and I follow her. I know this is the new millennium, but this place is so…sinful. I can hardly believe I’m really here. I feel a rush of guilt and consider going to confession.

“You might want to try some of these.” Suzie points to a bin with small tubes. “Flavored lubricant,” she announces proudly. “Personally, I like the raspberry best.”

Good Lord, she looks way too young to have tried all this stuff. I’m about to tell her I’m not interested, but I suddenly change my mind. How much have I missed out on? Too much, clearly. I want to catch up, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.

I pick up a handful of the tubes. “Can’t get too much of these.”

“I know exactly what you mean.”

I’m actually chuckling, enjoying this moment, when I sense someone to my right. Turning, I nearly die of horror when I see a total hottie standing a few feet away from me. How long has he been here, and how did I not see him before?

Worse, how much of my conversation has he heard?

He grins as he meets my gaze.

God help me, he thinks I’m a freak. I quickly pay for my items and rush out of the store.

Nine o’clock and still no Charles.

What seemed like a good idea three hours ago seems utterly foolish right now. I’m lying on the sofa wearing that ridiculous maid’s uniform and the even more ridiculous wig, only half paying attention to some pathetic reality dating show. The meat loaf I prepared is lukewarm in the oven.

Not even so much as a phone call to tell me he’d be late.

I could have changed—in fact I almost did—but I want Charles to see what I’ve done to try to seduce him. And if I’m entirely honest, I guess a part of me still hopes that he’ll walk through the door, see me half-naked and perk right up—then ravish me until I can’t even blink.

Like that’s gonna happen. Why the hell do I bother? Maybe my sister’s right. Maybe Charles is having some torrid affair.

The cordless phone is at the foot of the sofa, nice and close to me, because I’d hoped Charles would call. Now I lift it and punch in the digits to one of my girlfriend’s. I desperately need to hear a friendly voice right now.

“Hello?”

Thank God, Lishelle is home. She’s a newscaster and sometimes works through the evening. I met her at Spelman, the same place I met my other best friend, Claudia Fisher. I think they took pity on me—one of the few white girls who had the guts to go to a predominantly black school. I didn’t care about any of that, of course. I wanted to experience life at an all-girl college, probably to please my mother who was worried about all the temptation I’d face on a regular college campus.

“Hey, Lishelle,” I say, pulling the wig off. “It’s Annelise.”

“What’s up, girl?”

I sigh softly. “Nothing much. Just sitting here watching some TV and I thought I’d call.” I don’t want to talk about Charles. I’m depressed enough as it is. “Did you get a message from Claudia today?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“So there is another fitting on Saturday?”

“You know that girl’s tripping. The way she’s going through dresses and designers, I’m not sure anything will be good enough for her.”

“She’s got to make up her mind soon. The wedding’s on May twenty-seventh.” I lift my head when I hear the doorknob turning. Charles. My heart slams against my chest. “Lishelle, I have to go.”

“What?”

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” I tell her, then disconnect the call.

My whole seduction scene has been ruined, and I’m now confused about what to do. Simply stand up and greet my husband, or lie provocatively on the sofa?

The decision is made for me. I don’t have time to get up. I toss the wig across the room, then fluff my blond hair. Drawing in a deep breath, I bend one leg at the knee and ease up onto my elbows. As Charles comes into view, I whisper, “Hi.”

Charles stops dead in his tracks, as though he is surprised to see me. I guess he is, because he’s got the stack of mail from the hall table in his hands and he must have been looking at that.

“Hi,” I say again, this time adding a smile.

“Hey.”

Charles glances to the left, at the row of candles burning on the table. I wait for his reaction…

He goes back to sifting through the mail.

The mail! I’m dressed like a French slut and he’s concerned with the mail!

I sit up, not sure if I should scream or cry. Really, I want to pummel him.

“Charles,” I say, noting the hint of exasperation in my voice.

He makes his way around the sofa and sits beside me. My heart lifts. Maybe there’s hope after all.