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Something was getting in the way. There was a gap in the synapses. My nerves couldn’t fire right and the information wouldn’t flow.
“I don’t know how.”
“Yes you do, son. You’re afraid you’ll end up making the same mistakes. But you won’t. You’re not twenty-something anymore. Stop hating that kid you were and accept the man you are today. He’s a really good man.” His eyes misted over. “The world deserves to know him. Decca deserves to know him. All of him.” He patted my chest and turned around.
“Fuck, Dad, this was a rollercoaster of a conversation.” I sniffed, my own eyes glassy and hot.
“Stop cursing in church, Father Constantinos.” He smiled and held the railing tight as he walked down the steps out of the back office.
Decca
“I need to learnto deep throat. There must be tricks. Can you teach me?”
Bethany’s face blanched as she perched on the edge of her desk. Just when I didn’t think her face could get any paler, she looked as white as milk. “What makes you think I know how to do it?”
Across the room, the soft clicks of the keyboard stopped when George’s fingers paused over the keys of his laptop to raise an eyebrow at his wife.
“For one thing, George’s expression’s calling bullshit on you right now. For another,” I sighed and took a deep breath. “I know what you two are into, and I want it. Well, some of it. I need sex lessons.”
“You don’t need lessons, Dec.” Bethany said, easing slowly off the desk and hobbling to the door. “Sex is about communication.” She pushed it closed and hobbled back to me. Or maybe it was more of a glide. I just realized she wasn’t in heels. I didn’t know she owned flats, let alone knew how to walk in shoes without at least a four-inch heel.
“That’s the problem. We communicate about everything. Exceptthat. We’ve been married for months and still nothing! Maybe if I prove to him I can handle what he wants, he won’t feel so guilty every time he looks at me. He looks at me like he trapped me into this marriage.”
I paced the floor, hugging my arms across my chest. “I thought we could start slow. Round the bases, so to speak. I just need to be able to handle his dark side. What if he really is a monster and decides to let loose? I need to be ready.”
This time, George and Bethany shared a look. He grumbled something under his breath about the casket room and left the office.
Bethany hobbled to the office loveseat.
“Are you limping? I know you and George are into some sadomasochistic shit, but I’d never seen you in this much pain.”
She batted my hand away. “Shut up and hand me those pills on my desk. I had to pick up a guy who died in a washing machine. Positional asphyxia. Some guys like to use them for autoerotic wanking, and they get a little overzealous. He isn’t my first. I threw my back out, lifting him. So, yeah, I guess I do have a sex injury. I just didn’t get to come.”
She reclined slowly against the loveseat. “I thought you shared a bed when Chris was over. That didn’t incite some kind of primal urge to repeat the cuddlefest?”
“He couldn’t get away from me fast enough the next day. He spent the next two days behind his closed office door.”
“Hmm.” Bethany’s eyes sparked with a thought. “I bet I know what he was doing behind that door. You should have opened it. Maybe he wanted you to join in.”
“His message was clear enough. Now, not only am I not fucking my husband, I’m barely speaking to him.”
She groaned as she moved.
I sat next to her to rub the base of her spine. Bethany let out a sigh of relief.
“Are you sure you’re alright to work?”
“I just have one appointment I need to stay for. George is handling the services today. Interns have got basement duty. But getting back to the important matters, you shouldn’t have to handle anything when it comes to sex. Not emotionally, anyway. If you’re not enthusiastic about a kind of play, or an act—“
“But that’s just it. I’m overly enthusiastic. I want to do this. Icravehim. I’ve never felt so turned on by the idea of him unleashing, totally just losing all control. But every time we’ve started, I know it reminds him of his previous self, the self he hated.”
“You’re not going to help him overcome it by forcing an act he’s uncomfortable with.”
“You’re saying I need his enthusiastic consent. Even though I know he wants it.”
“Consent goes both ways. Especially with men operating under traumatic guilt.”
“I didn’t think of it like that.”
